#hope you will enjoy what I have to share before “the end”

[julietsf1]

The Idiot I Call Mine - Lando Norris x BestFriend! Reader

summary: best friends are supposed to share laughs, inside jokes, fries and the occasional late-night drive. what they’re not supposed to do is flirt like it’s a competitive sport or make you question every unspoken rule of friendship. at least, unless your name is Lando Norris apparently. (7.1k words)

content: fluff! friends to lovers; flirty dynamic; mutual pining

an: whaaat? a fic about another driver? yes loves. this is me coming forward as a secret Lando fan. I hope you'll enjoy as much as I did writing this :)

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Lando Norris has this annoying habit of always being right. It’s not even about anything important—it’s just little things. Like the time he guessed exactly how long it would take before I caved and ordered dessert, or when he said I’d end up watching a rom-com tonight even though I claimed I wanted “something deep and meaningful.”

“See?” he said smugly, leaning back on the couch as the opening credits of The Holiday  played. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Hardly,” I shot back, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “You just know I have a weak spot for Jude Law. That doesn’t make you psychic.”

“No, but it does make me an excellent best friend.” He winked, plucking the popcorn off his lap and popping it into his mouth like the show-off he was.

I rolled my eyes, pretending I wasn’t fighting a grin. Lando and I had been inseparable for years, the kind of best friends who finished each other’s sentences and shared a borderline unhealthy obsession with late-night McDonald’s runs. But lately, something had been… different.

Not bad, exactly. Just different. Maybe? I wasn’t even sure to be honest. 

“You’re staring again,” Lando said, breaking into my thoughts. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest in a way that felt entirely too casual and yet completely deliberate. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, and his smirk was the kind that could make even the most confident person question their sanity.

“I wasn’t staring,” I lied, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it in my mouth for good measure.

“You were absolutely staring,” he teased, leaning closer. “What’s on your mind, hmm? Thinking about how devastatingly handsome I am? It’s okay—you can admit it.”

“You’re such a joke,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed but failing miserably. “Devastatingly handsome? Please. You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin. “And yet, here you are, spending your Friday night with me. Interesting choice.”

“I’m here for the popcorn,” I deadpanned, though even I didn’t believe myself. “And because you begged me.”

“I didn’t beg,” he protested. “I suggested strongly. There’s a difference.”

This was us—lighthearted insults, jokes at each other’s expense, and an ease in our conversations that felt like home. If there was something different lately, I told myself it was just my imagination running wild. 

“Speaking of choices,” I said, leaning back against the couch. “What’s the deal with you and your phone wallpaper?”

“What about it?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, come on, Lando,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You really expect me to believe you just happened to pick a picture of me for your wallpaper?”

“It’s a great photo,” he said with a shrug. “You look happy. And let’s not pretend your wallpaper isn’t me.”

I froze, caught. He was right—my wallpaper was him, but that wasn’t the point.

“That’s different,” I said quickly. “You look stupid in yours. It’s funny.”

“Ah, so I’m your personal clown now?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock offense. “Good to know my humiliation brings you joy.”

“Always,” I said sweetly, tossing another piece of popcorn his way.

The movie played on in the background, but neither of us was really paying attention. We were too busy pushing each other’s buttons, like always.

“Hey,” Lando said after a while, his tone a little softer. “You’re coming to dinner at Mum’s next weekend, right?”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not really,” he said with a grin. “She’s already planning the menu. Something with pasta, probably. You know how she gets when you’re coming over.”

I smiled despite myself. His family had always treated me like one of their own, and his mum had a knack for making me feel special in ways that were both comforting and overwhelming.

“Well, in that case,” I said, pretending to think it over. “I guess I can clear my schedule.”

“Good,” he said, nudging me with his elbow. “I’d be bored without you there.”

It was moments like this—simple and familiar—that stuck with me longer than they should. The way he said things so casually, as if they didn’t carry any weight, even when they somehow did. 

“You’ve got something on your face,” I said suddenly, trying to distract myself.

“Where?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Right there,” I said, tapping the corner of my mouth.

He smirked, deliberately licking the spot where I’d pointed. “Better?”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” I said, shoving him away. But I was laughing, and so was he.

“You love it,” he said, and for once, I didn’t argue. Because maybe I did.

As the night went on, the teasing continued, each remark more loaded than the last. By the time the credits rolled, I wasn’t sure if it was the movie or Lando’s lingering glances that had me feeling so off-kilter.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he said, breaking the silence as he stood to clean up the popcorn bowl. “Something on your mind?”

“Just thinking,” I said vaguely, not meeting his gaze.

“About?” he pressed, leaning against the counter with a smirk that said he already knew the answer.

“Nothing important,” I said, grabbing my phone and pretending to scroll.

“Liar,” he said, his voice playful but probing. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know that?”

I glanced up at him, my heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it had been doing lately. He was standing there like he had all the time in the world, his green eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

“Goodnight, Lando,” I said finally, brushing past him on my way to the couch.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.

…

“You know, for someone who claims to be an athlete, you spend an alarming amount of time eating,” I said, glancing at Lando over the top of my menu.

“Carbs are fuel,” he replied, flashing me a grin. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand that we could’ve gone somewhere normal instead of whatever this place is,” I said, gesturing to the overly fancy restaurant. The kind of place where the wine glasses sparkled brighter than the chandeliers, and the menu was full of words I couldn’t pronounce.

“You’re so ungrateful,” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how hard it was to get a table here? I had to name-drop myself.”

“Wow,” I said dryly. “The struggle.”

“Exactly. And now you’re here, about to enjoy the finest pasta in town, thanks to me. A little gratitude wouldn’t kill you.”

“Gratitude? You dragged me here under false pretenses. You said this was a ‘low-key spot.’”

“It is low-key,” he argued, gesturing around. “For Monte Carlo standards.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto my face. This was just how things were with Lando—effortless, easy, and borderline ridiculous.

“Alright, what are you getting?” Lando asked, lowering his menu.

“Fettuccine Alfredo,” I said without hesitation.

“Of course you are,” he said, smirking. “Predictable.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I shot back. “What are you getting, then? Something groundbreaking? Life-changing? Revolutionary?”

“Tagliatelle al tartufo,” he said with a mockingly posh accent.

“Wow,” I said, feigning awe. “Truffle pasta. You’re really pushing the boundaries, Norris.”

“Don’t be jealous just because I have sophisticated taste,” he replied, the smirk never leaving his face.

“‘Sophisticated’ is one way to put it,” I muttered, pretending to study the menu again. “Another is ‘pretentious.’”

“You’ll be begging for a bite,” he said confidently, setting the menu down.

“Please,” I said, scoffing. “You’ll be stealing mine before the plates even hit the table.”

He leaned forward, his grin widening. “You know me so well.”

The food arrived soon after, and, as predicted, we switched plates halfway through without even discussing it. It was second nature by now, like so many other things about us.

“You know,” Lando said, twirling a forkful of fettuccine, “if this whole racing thing doesn’t work out, I could be a food critic.”

“Sure,” I said, deadpan. “Because people are dying to know what Lando Norris thinks about pasta.”

“They would be,” he said, undeterred. “My palate is unparalleled.”

“Your palate consists of pizza, chicken nuggets, and whatever I’m eating,” I shot back.

“And yet, here we are,” he said, gesturing to the table. “Me, enjoying this culinary masterpiece, and you, enjoying my company. Life is good.”

It was shaping up to be another night of easy conversation and mindless teasing until a voice interrupted us.

“Lando?”

I looked up to see two women standing at the edge of our table. They were both tall, blonde, and effortlessly elegant, the kind of women who looked like they belonged in a magazine spread rather than real life.

“Oh, hey!” Lando said, his face lighting up in recognition.

I glanced at him, watching as his entire demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He straightened up, his grin widening just enough to make my stomach twist.

“We haven’t seen you in forever,” one of the women said, her smile bright and practiced.

“I know,” Lando said, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. “It’s been a while.”

“You look great,” one of them said, her smile bright as she leaned in a little too close.

“So do you,” Lando replied, his tone polite but just warm enough to make me suddenly very interested in my water glass. The conversation floated around me, full of laughter and inside jokes I didn’t understand.

“And who’s this?” one of them finally asked, her gaze flicking to me with polite curiosity.

“This is Y/N,” Lando said, gesturing toward me with a casualness that felt too deliberate. “My best friend.”

Best friend. There it was again.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Likewise,” she replied, her tone perfectly pleasant.

They didn’t linger much longer—just enough to leave their mark before excusing themselves with a wave and a promise to “catch up soon.”

“Old friends of yours?” I asked once they were gone, my voice light but with a slight edge.

“Something like that,” Lando said, taking a sip of his water.

“Something like that?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, his smirk returning. “They’re sisters. I, uh… may have had a thing with both of them. At different times, obviously.”

My fork froze midair. “Both of them?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, laughing. “It’s not that weird.”

“It’s incredibly weird,” I said, shaking my head.

“I mean, it didn’t overlap or anything,” he added, as if that somehow made it better. “But yeah… sisters.”

I stared at him, equal parts amused and horrified. “That’s… impressive? I guess?”

“Thank you,” he said, grinning like he’d just been handed an award. “Think I should call them again?”

“Sure,” I forced a laugh, stabbing at my pasta. “And then ask if they have any other sisters you might’ve missed.”

He chuckled, clearly oblivious to the sarcasm in my tone. “Good idea. Always room for a hat trick.”

My stomach churned uncomfortably, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I focused on my plate, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way my mood had shifted.

…

The paddock was its usual chaotic self—teams rushing to prepare for practice sessions, fans peering over barriers for a glimpse of their favorite drivers, and media personnel darting between interviews. I decided to escape the madness for a bit, heading toward the staff catering building for a much-needed coffee.

The line was mercifully short, but as I joined it, I noticed someone already waiting near the front. Tall, dark-haired, and wearing a Ferrari polo with his name—Marco—stitched neatly on the chest. He turned slightly, catching my eye and offering a polite smile.

“Busy morning?” he asked, his tone warm and conversational.

“Something like that,” I replied with a small smile. “You?”

“Always,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But coffee makes it manageable, no?”

I nodded. “A universal truth.”

Marco stepped aside to let me order, a gesture so casual it almost went unnoticed. As I gave my order to the barista, I felt him glance at me again—not invasive, just curious.

“So, not Ferrari,” he said after I stepped back to wait for my coffee.

“Is it that obvious?” I joked.

“A little,” he admitted, his grin widening. “You’re far too relaxed to be one of us.”

“Should I be offended or flattered?” I asked, tilting my head playfully.

“Flattered,” he said easily. “Relaxed is a good thing.”

We fell into an easy rhythm as we waited. Marco was effortlessly charming, asking questions without prying and tossing in a few self-deprecating remarks about Ferrari’s chaos.

“You’re here with a team?” he asked eventually.

“A friend,” I said vaguely.

“Lucky friend,” he said, his tone light but genuine.

I laughed softly. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

Marco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation.

“There you are.”

I turned to see Lando approaching, his expression relaxed but his eyes sharper than usual.

“Hey,” I said, surprised. “I thought you were doing media.”

“Finished early,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flicked briefly to Marco, who stood quietly by my side. “And I figured I’d find you here.”

“Good instincts,” I said lightly, though something about his sudden appearance felt… deliberate.

Marco offered his hand to Lando, ever polite. “Marco. Ferrari engineering.”

“Lando,” he replied, shaking his hand. “McLaren driving.”

Marco chuckled. “I know who you are. Good to meet you.”

“You too,” Lando said, his tone friendly but with an edge I couldn’t quite place.

The barista called my name, and I turned to grab my coffee, giving them a moment to exchange polite words. By the time I returned, Marco was stepping away with his own drink.

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, offering me a small wave before disappearing into the crowd.

Lando watched him go before turning back to me. “Who was that?”

“Marco,” I said simply.

“And what was Marco talking to you about?” he asked, his tone too casual to be entirely innocent.

I raised an eyebrow. “Coffee, mostly. Why?”

“No reason,” he said quickly, taking a sip of my drink.

I studied him for a moment, noting the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” he said defensively.

“You’re definitely acting weird.”

Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely baffled.

“He was flirting,” Lando said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I blinked. “He was being nice.”

“Nice,” Lando repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”

“Lando, he’s just a guy who works for Ferrari,” I said, shaking my head.

“Exactly,” he said, as if that proved his point.

There was a beat of silence as I processed his words.

“You sound jealous,” I said finally, testing the waters.

“Jealous?” he scoffed, though the flicker of something in his eyes gave him away. “Hardly. I just think you can do way better than some guy who chats you up in the coffee line.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” he asked, smirking now.

“Yes,” I said firmly, though the warmth in my chest betrayed me.

We walked back toward the McLaren garage, his mood lightening with every step. By the time we arrived, he was back to his usual self—chatting with the mechanics and laughing at some joke I’d already missed.

But his words stayed with me, replaying in my mind as I sat down with my coffee. My coffee which Lando had somehow already drank half of. 

…

The McLaren lounge was a rare oasis of calm in the chaos of a race weekend. Engineers hustled past the windows, radios crackled with updates, and somewhere in the distance, an engine roared to life. But in here, it was all plush couches, soft lighting, and a distinct lack of urgency.

I was curled up on one end of the couch, flipping through a magazine, while Oscar and Lando lounged on the other side. Lando, as usual, couldn’t sit still. He was draped sideways over the armrest, absently spinning a water bottle in his hands.

“Alright,” Lando announced, breaking the comfortable silence. “Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?”

I looked up from my magazine, narrowing my eyes. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“It’s an important question,” he insisted, his grin wide and mischievous.

I pretended to ponder for a moment. “One horse-sized duck. Definitely.”

Lando gaped at me like I’d just declared something outrageous. “Terrible answer. Absolutely terrible.”

“It’s the smart answer,” I shot back, sitting up straighter. “You outmaneuver one big target instead of exhausting yourself trying to wrangle a hundred tiny ones.”

“Do you even know how terrifying a horse-sized duck would be?” Lando asked, his voice rising in mock disbelief.

“And do you know how terrifying a hundred duck-sized horses would be?” I countered, raising an eyebrow.

Lando leaned forward, his grin widening. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me you’d rather face one giant, angry duck with a wingspan bigger than this couch?”

“Absolutely,” I said confidently. “Ducks aren’t that scary.”

“They can bite, you know,” he shot back, gesturing dramatically. “One snap, and you’re done for.”

I smirked, leaning closer. “I think I’d survive. Besides, I have a secret weapon.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“You,” I said, deadpan. “I’ll just toss you in its path and run.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Wow. That’s cold, Y/N. I thought we were a team.”

“We are,” I said, grinning. “But only if you pick the right answer next time.”

For a moment, he was quiet, his grin faltering just slightly as he met my gaze. It wasn’t much, just a flicker of something softer beneath the banter. But it was enough to make my stomach do that annoying little flip I’d been trying to ignore.

“Lando,” Oscar interjected, his tone casual but pointed. “You’re staring.”

“I am not,” Lando said quickly, his ears turning the faintest shade of pink as he looked away.

“You are,” Oscar said, leaning back with a smirk.

“You’re imagining things,” Lando muttered, crossing his arms.

Oscar snorted but didn’t press the issue, instead grabbing his phone and scrolling through it idly. But the look he shot Lando wasn’t lost on me—or Lando, for that matter.

As the banter settled into silence, I decided to grab a drink from the catering area, leaving the two of them alone.

The moment the door swung shut behind me, Oscar struck. “Mate, you’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“About what?” Lando asked, feigning innocence as he fidgeted with the water bottle.

Oscar didn’t even look up from his phone. “About Y/N.”

“What about her?”

Oscar set his phone down, leveling Lando with a knowing look. “You’re acting like a lovesick puppy every time she’s around.”

Lando scoffed, though the tips of his ears betrayed him again. “That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends.”

“Sure,” Oscar said, dragging out the word like he was savoring it. “That’s why you light up like a Christmas tree whenever she walks in the room.”

“I do not,” Lando said defensively, but his voice lacked conviction.

“You do,” Oscar replied, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “Mate, you’re glaring holes into the back of her head every time she talks to someone else. And don’t even get me started on how you were watching her during the duck-and-horse debate like she’d just solved world peace.”

“That’s—” Lando started, then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.”

“Right,” Oscar said, his smirk firmly in place. “It’s exactly like that, but go off.”

Lando opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly searching for the right words. “It’s… we’ve known each other forever. It’s Y/N.”

Oscar nodded, as if that made sense, but his smirk didn’t waver. “Don’t you think it would be time to change that soon? You two are exhausting.”

Lando shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it.

“I’m just saying,” Oscar said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re completely gone for her. Admit it already.”

Lando groaned, leaning back against the couch and running a hand through his hair. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Oscar said, grinning now. “But I’m right.”

Lando didn’t respond, his gaze drifting to the door where I’d just left. And for the first time, he let himself wonder if maybe—just maybe—Oscar was onto something.

…

The moment we walked into George’s celebration, the energy hit like a wave. The room was packed with familiar faces—drivers, engineers, and friends—dressed to the nines in that effortless way people in motorsport always seemed to manage. String lights twinkled across the ceiling, soft jazz played over the speakers, and a steady hum of conversation filled the air.

“You’re going to owe me for this,” I teased, glancing at Lando. “Dragging me here after wasting twenty minutes deciding between two identical shirts.”

“They weren’t identical,” Lando replied with a roll of his eyes, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we weaved through the crowd. “One had a darker stitch.”

“Completely life-changing,” I said dryly, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

“See? You get it,” he shot back with a grin, steering us toward a booth near the bar.

The way his hand lingered, warm and steady, was something I tried not to think too much about. It was just Lando being Lando—playful, touchy, and completely oblivious to the little flips my stomach insisted on doing whenever he leaned too close.

We found our way to a booth not far from the bar, where Alexandra and Charles were already seated. Charles was gesturing animatedly about something, while Alexandra sat with her usual poised grace, sipping champagne. When she saw us, her face lit up.

“Enfin, vous êtes là !” Alexandra exclaimed, waving us over. (Finally, you’re here!)

“Lando a changé de chemise trois fois,” I replied, throwing him a look. (Lando changed his shirt three times.)

Charles chuckled, leaning back with a smirk. “Toujours dramatique, hein ?” (Always dramatic, huh?)

“English,” Lando whined as we slid into the booth. “You’re ganging up on me in French. It’s not fair.”

“Pauvre bébé,” I teased, patting his arm lightly. (Poor baby.)

“Whatever that means,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t upset.

The conversation flowed easily between the four of us. Lando, of course, dominated the chatter, weaving an elaborate story about George’s awkward rookie days. His expressions were so animated, his gestures so over-the-top, that even Charles—usually the calm and composed one—was cracking up by the end.

“That’s not true,” I said, nudging Lando with my elbow. “You’re exaggerating again.”

“I’m not!” he protested, his green eyes wide with mock innocence. “It’s all true. Every word.”

“Sure it is,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Back me up here!” he said, turning to Charles.

Charles raised a brow, taking a deliberate sip of his drink. “I wasn’t there, but… I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Alexandra laughed softly, glancing at me. “Toujours l’acteur dramatique, ce Lando.” (Always the drama actor, that Lando.)

“Hey,” Lando said, pointing at her. “I know that wasn’t a compliment.”

I smirked, leaning closer. “It absolutely wasn’t.”

He gasped dramatically, his hand over his chest. “Betrayed by my own friends. I’ll never recover.”

“You’ll survive,” I said, brushing him off, though the warmth in his gaze lingered just a beat too long.

Lando eventually excused himself to grab drinks, leaving me to chat with Alexandra and Charles. As soon as he was out of earshot, Alexandra leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Il est tellement évident qu’il a un faible pour toi,” she said softly, her voice full of amusement. (It’s so obvious he has a thing for you.)

“Quoi?” I asked, my cheeks heating instantly. (What?)

“Ouvre les yeux,” she said, smirking. (Open your eyes.)

Charles chuckled, sipping his drink as he watched the exchange. “C’est écrit partout sur son visage.” (It’s written all over his face.)

“Stop,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re imagining things.”

Alexandra raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, her expression saying everything her words didn’t.

At the bar, Lando was cornered by Carlos, who leaned casually against the counter, his expression smug. 

“You know,” Carlos said, his tone casual, “you’re not very subtle.”

“What are you talking about?” Lando asked, though his focus kept drifting toward the booth where I was sitting.

Carlos raised his drink, gesturing toward me. “You’ve been staring at her all night, hermano. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Lando stiffened, his grin faltering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just tell her,” Carlos said, swirling his drink lazily.

“It’s not that simple,” Lando replied, his voice quieter now.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because if I mess this up, I lose her,” Lando admitted, glancing toward our booth.

Carlos tilted his head, studying him. “You’re scared. That’s what this is.”

“Of course I’m scared,” Lando muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s my best friend. If it doesn’t work—”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Carlos interrupted, his voice softer now. “But you’d better do something soon.”

Carlos’s smirk softened slightly, but before Lando could reply, Liam Lawson appeared at the bar.

“Who’s the girl with Charles and Alexandra?” Liam asked, nodding toward the booth. “She single?”

Carlos grinned mischievously. “Yeah, she is—go for it.”

Lando’s head snapped toward Carlos, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Carlos.”

“What?” Carlos said, feigning innocence. “Just giving the kid a shot.”

…

Liam approached with the kind of confidence that only a Red Bull driver could pull off.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me. “You’re Y/N, right?”

I blinked, momentarily surprised but recovering quickly. “That’s me. And you are?”

“Liam Lawson,” he said, extending a hand.

I shook it, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Nice to meet you.”

“How do you know George?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world.

“Through Lando,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but measured. His easy demeanor was almost disarming, but there was something about the way he looked at me that made me hyper-aware of my surroundings.

“Ah, Lando,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Lucky guy. You two seem pretty close.”

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” I said simply, taking a sip of my drink and trying not to overthink his comment.

“Well,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “his loss if he hasn’t made a move yet.”

That caught me off guard. My gaze flicked to his, searching for any hint of a joke, but he was entirely serious—or at least good at pretending to be.

“Excuse me?” I asked, my voice betraying my surprise.

Liam grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying. If I were him, I wouldn’t be sitting over there, letting someone else steal your attention.”

The comment was bold, and I didn’t quite know how to respond. My thoughts were a mess of confusion, flattery, and something else I didn’t want to name. Before I could formulate a response, the familiar sound of Lando’s voice cut through the air.

“Liam,” he said smoothly, stepping up to the table. His tone was calm, but his green eyes held a sharpness that made me sit up a little straighter.

Liam glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Christian’s looking for you,” Lando said, his tone casual but firm. “Something about debrief notes.”

Liam frowned, clearly reluctant. “Now?”

“Yeah,” Lando said, nodding. “He seemed pretty keen.”

Liam hesitated, his gaze flicking between me and Lando like he was weighing his options. Finally, he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. “Alright. Nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“You too,” I replied, watching him leave with a mixture of relief and something I couldn’t quite pin down.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Lando lingered for a moment, his hands shoved into his pockets as he avoided my gaze.

“That,” Charles said, his tone thick with amusement, “was the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Lando shot him a glare, his ears turning faintly red. “Mind your own business, Charles.”

Charles just smirked, raising his glass in mock surrender. “Whatever you say.”

I didn’t say anything, but a flicker of suspicion settled in the back of my mind.

Had Lando just…? No. That would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?

“Let’s get a drink,” Alexandra said, pulling me to my feet.

…

As Alexandra and I made our way back toward the booth, she nudged me gently, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Lando looked like he was about to breathe fire earlier,” she said casually, sipping her drink.

I laughed softly, trying to deflect. “He’s always protective. It’s nothing.”

“Protective?” Alexandra repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That was not protective, chérie. That was jealousy.”

I opened my mouth to respond but stopped short as we neared the booth, Lando and Charles’s voices filtering through the hum of the room.

“It will just be awkward, mate,” Lando said, his tone low and almost resigned.

“Just talk about it,” Charles replied simply.

“It’s not that simple,” Lando muttered. “She will never be more than just a friend.”

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My chest tightened, and the air around me seemed to still. Alexandra’s hand touched my arm gently, but I barely noticed.

“I— I need some air,” I managed, turning away before she could respond.

The ache in my chest grew with every step I took, his words echoing in my head.

She will never be more than just a friend.

And just like that, everything I thought I’d imagined felt painfully real.

…

I turned my phone face down on the table at Gigi’s, willing myself not to glance at the screen again. The missed calls from Lando were piling up, his name lighting up my notifications every half hour like clockwork. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him—I did. But every time I thought about his voice, his laugh, his damn words, the ache in my chest tightened.

She will never be more than just a friend.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away as the waiter arrived with my order. The smell of rich, cheesy pasta wafted up, comforting in the way only food could be. I twirled a forkful absentmindedly, hoping the carbs would somehow fill the space that had been hollowed out the night before.

The familiar growl of an engine outside pulled my attention from my plate. I glanced toward the window and froze.

The unmistakable silhouette of Lando’s Miura parked just outside, sleek and shining even under the soft glow of streetlights. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was, stepping out effortless as usual—but his expression wasn’t the easygoing grin I was used to. He looked… worried.

Before I could decide what to do, he spotted me through the window, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. He pushed through the door, his eyes locking onto mine immediately.

“There you are,” he said, relief evident in his tone as he approached my table.

I blinked, caught off guard. “Lando? What are you doing here?”

He pulled out the chair across from me, sitting down without asking. “Looking for you.”

My heart twisted. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been ignoring me all day,” he said, his voice quieter now.

I looked away, focusing on my fork. “I had my phone off that’s all.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he said finally, his voice softer but steady.

I glanced up, frowning. “What?”

“You always turn to cheesy Italian food when you’re upset,” he said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s your thing.”

The casual observation caught me off guard, a mix of warmth and frustration bubbling in my chest.

“So what?” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “You’re some kind of expert on me now?”

He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Y/N, I know you better than anyone. And I know something’s wrong.”

I didn’t answer, twisting my fork in the pasta and pretending to be engrossed in my meal. But the usual comfort it brought was absent, replaced by the uncomfortable weight of his gaze.

“You’re not yourself,” Lando said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, my tone clipped.

“Don’t lie to me,” he replied, his tone more serious than I was used to.

I set my fork down, the clink of metal against porcelain louder than it should have been. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking.”

His eyes softened, his frustration giving way to concern. “Y/N…”

“Lando, I’m fine,” I interrupted, though the words felt hollow.

He didn’t push further, but I could see the gears turning in his head. He sat back, glancing down at my half-finished plate of pasta before gesturing to the waiter.

“Can we get the check, please?” he asked, pulling out his wallet.

I frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Paying,” he said simply, standing as the waiter approached.

“For me?”

“Yes,” he said, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Come on.”

“Come on where?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

“You’ll see,” he said, extending a hand.

I hesitated for a moment before letting him pull me to my feet.

The warm night air hit us as we stepped out of Gigi’s, the soft sound of waves in the distance mingling with the faint hum of the city. Lando didn’t say anything, his grip on my hand firm but gentle as he led me toward Larvotto Beach, just a short walk away.

“Lando, seriously,” I said as we reached the sand. “What’s going on?”

He stopped, turning to face me, his green eyes brighter under the moonlight.

“We need to talk.” he said simply.

And just like that, my heart started racing, even though I had no idea what he was going to say.

The beach stretched out before us, quiet except for the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. The city lights glittered faintly in the distance, their reflection dancing on the dark water. Lando walked beside me, his shoulders tense, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

For once, I didn’t fill the silence. I didn’t trust myself to. My thoughts were a whirlwind—last night’s overheard words still fresh in my mind, colliding with the unexpected intensity of this moment.

We walked like that for a while, the sand soft beneath our feet, until Lando came to a sudden stop. He turned to face me, his green eyes catching the moonlight in a way that made my stomach twist.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

I crossed my arms, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “Try the beginning.”

He huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “The beginning’s too far back. I’d be here all night.”

“Good thing I don’t have anywhere else to be,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

For a moment, he just looked at me, his expression softening. “Y/N, I have a lot of friends. Like, a lot of friends.”

I blinked, confused. “Okay?”

“But none of them get to me the way you do,” he said, his voice dropping.

I stared at him, my breath catching. “What are you saying?”

He glanced out at the water, like he was searching for courage in the rolling waves. “I mean… you’re not just anyone to me. You never have been. You’re the first person I think of when something happens—good or bad. And the idea of upsetting you? It’s unbearable.”

My throat tightened as his words sank in.

“Like today,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “You ignored my calls, and I couldn’t stop thinking about whether I’d done something wrong. Whether I hurt you somehow. Because if I did…” He stopped, exhaling sharply, and shook his head. “I can’t stand the thought of you being upset because of me.”

I didn’t respond, too caught up in the flood of emotions his words were pulling from me.

“When you’re upset, it breaks my heart,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “And when you laugh… it’s like my entire day gets brighter. When you’re sad, it feels like my world’s falling apart.”

“Lando,” I started, but he held up a hand, shaking his head.

“I’m not done,” he said, his words tumbling out now, faster and more frantic. “I’ve been feeling like this for so long, and I thought I could just push it aside or pretend it didn’t matter, but it does. It matters so much. And if I messed up—if I’ve ruined this somehow—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You didn’t—”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted, his eyes locking onto mine. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to admit it. And I know this might change everything, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

I froze, his confession slamming into me with the force of a tidal wave.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know if this makes sense. I just… I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

Without thinking, I stepped closer, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

For a second, he was completely still, caught off guard. But then he kissed me back, his hands slipping to my waist as he pulled me closer. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it deepened quickly, making the world around me disappear.

When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us catching our breath.

“So… I’m guessing you feel the same?” he asked, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re so slow sometimes,” I murmured, shaking my head with a laugh.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes,” I said, smiling.

The relief on his face was almost comical. He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me tightly like he never wanted to let go.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he murmured into my hair.

“And I’ve wanted to hear it,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his chest.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “But… yesterday. Did I say something? Did I—”

I hesitated, my stomach twisting. “I overheard you talking to Charles.”

His face paled. “Oh.”

“You said I’d never be more than a friend,” I said, my voice wavering.

Lando winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, Y/N, that’s not how I meant it at all. I said that because I thought I didn’t stand a chance. Like… you’re so important to me, and I didn’t want to mess up what we already had by wanting something I thought I could never have.”

He looked at me with a mix of regret and hope. “I’m an idiot. It wasn’t because I didn’t want more—it’s because I didn’t think I could have it.”

“You are an idiot,” I said, my lips twitching into a small smile. “But you’re my idiot.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yours, huh? Bold claim.”

I tilted my head, my grin widening. “Think you can find someone else to deal with you the way I do?”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Deal with me? You mean worship my charm and tolerate my perfection?”

“Oh, please,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “The only thing I’m worshipping is the patience I’ve built up putting up with you.”

His hands slid to my waist, pulling me slightly closer, his smirk turning more mischievous. “You love me. Admit it.”

“Not a chance,” I said, even as my pulse quickened.

His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my eyes again, his voice softening but still teasing. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

Before I could respond, he closed the gap, kissing me again with a fierceness that took me by surprise. This wasn’t the hesitant, nervous kiss from before. It was confident, teasing, like everything we’d been holding back had finally snapped into place.

I kissed him back, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. His hands tightened on my waist, grounding me as he smiled against my lips, murmuring, “Still denying it?”

I broke the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, raising an eyebrow. “You think one kiss is going to make me fold?”

“Two,” he said smugly, leaning in for another without waiting for an answer.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t stop him, meeting him halfway this time. His lips curved into a grin mid-kiss, and I could feel his stupid, insufferable smugness radiating off him.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked when we pulled apart, my voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Unbelievably,” he replied, his grin widening as he rested his forehead against mine. “And don’t pretend you’re not.”

“Maybe I am,” I admitted, smirking. “But if you keep talking, I might start regretting it.”

He laughed, pulling me closer. “Alright, no more talking. For now.”

“Good,” I said, leaning in again, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else fell away.

The weight of everything unsaid was gone, replaced by the warmth of realizing we’d both been fighting our way toward the same truth: we’d always belonged to each other.

When we broke apart, Lando’s grin turned mischievous, and I immediately knew he was up to something. Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly and started toward the water.

“Lando! Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, squirming in his arms as laughter bubbled out of me.

“Payback for all those times you called me an idiot,” he teased, stopping just as the waves lapped at his shoes.

He finally set me down, his smirk smug and unapologetic. “Admit it. You love me anyway.”

Figures. I’m in love with someone who steals my fries and once confidently argued that dolphins were just “sea dogs.” I wouldn’t have it any other way though.

[dawngyu]

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.

[airaatsu]

Hiii, I really loved your first fic!!! I was wondering if you could do another threesome request with se-mi again and dae-ho this time 🙈. my absolute faves

Could be with se-mi and reader already being a thing but her gf has a crush on cute little dae-ho. Flirting and teasing him throughout the games while se-mi watches her gf get what she wants.

Dae ho finally gets the pretty girl but doesn’t realize he has to share until he hears her whimper for her pretty gf to join them ;)

«—Se-mi x F!Reader x Dae-ho—»

⁍Sharing is Caring⁌

Summary: Se-mi notices how her girlfriend currently has a crush on Dae-ho. Instead of getting mad and jealous as you suspected she would, she encourages you to hang out with him. Things take a turn and the two of them end up sharing you. Dae-ho and Se-mi reaches an agreement. Se-mi loves seeing her girlfriend get everything she wants, after all, it's what you deserve;)

A/N: This request was in my inbox for like, 2 days? 😭 I'm sorry this took so long😭😭🏃‍♀️💨 Anyway, hope you guys would enjoy this‼️ I'll be working on another fic later, pray I won't get writer's block🥲 (I SUCK AT SUMMARIES🤕)

Warnings: NSFW, p in v, creampie, fingerfucking, handjob, SMUTTTTT

Se-mi leaned against one of the metal beds. Her gaze lingering on you a bit longer, watching you stare at someone from that man, Gi-hun's group. She continued to stare at you before she let out a sigh, when you didn't seem to notice, she sat down next to you and let out another louder sigh.

"What is it?" You murmured, sitting up straight as you faced her. "What do you mean." Se-mi looked away, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. "You've been sighing since earlier. What is it?"

"I don't know. Why were you staring so much at that guy." She questioned, glancing at the group you were staring at earlier. A small pout forming on her lips. You peeked at them over your shoulder before looking back Se-mi, raising a questioning brow at her. "Are you jealous?" You teased, smirking as you poked at her sides.

"No I'm not." She shot you a glare before her gaze softened, grabbing your hands to stop them from poking her. "Why don't you just talk to him? That guy- Dae-ho or whatever his name is." She stood. "Se-mi.. you're not mad?" You asked, stuffing your hands in your pockets. She scoffed,"Mad? Why would I be." She replied, flicking her finger on your nose. You giggled, playfully pushing her. "Maybe because we're in a relationship? And I'm having a crush on someone?" You stood up. Wrapping your arm around hers.

"I'm not mad at you, babe.. besides, I'm quite good at sharing." Se-mi leaned closer, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips before pulling back. "If you really want him, go for it. I don't mind sharing my princess, and it's better with him than those.." She glanced at the purple haired man across the room from them, with that friend of his that was also a drug addict. "Assholes.."

"What do you think, babe?" Se-mi smirked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled, shaking your head. "Of course! Thank you!" You pulled her in a hug, peppering kisses on her face. Causing her to laugh at your sudden display of affection. "Alright, alright. Now go get pretty boy." She sighs, nudging you back into the direction of the group Dae-ho is in.

You and Dae-ho hit it off quite well. Perfect, really. He was such a cutie, a gentleman too. The way he blushed when you would tease and flirt with him even during the games was simply too adorable for you. The way he would look away and pull up the zipper of his jacket, causing the fabric to ride up and hide the lower half of his face whenever you teased him made you giggle. Right now, you were sitting beside him wuth his teammates. You listened to them talk and plan for the next game, but you couldn't help your attention being drawn to someone from across the room. Turning your head, you lock eyes with your girlfriend. Se-mi has been keeping her eyes on you ever since you approached Dae-ho. Watching the both of you converse, how your hand would linger on his arm a bit too long for it to be friendly. But she wasn't jealous, no, Se-mi could never be jealous because of that. Instead, she was enjoying the scene. It filled her with pride seeing how her princess could literally pull anyone without even trying much. The way Dae-ho looked at you was already a clear sign that you've already won his heart over with just a few touch and your sweet words. Whenever you giggled or laugh, Se-mi could see Dae-ho's eyes soften and a smile forming on his lips. Who could help it though? You're beautiful, she could see that, anyone and everyone could see that.

You didn't even know how you got here. Well, maybe you did.. making up an excuse to the guard and managing to sneak into the bathroom with Dae-ho in tow was something you thought would never happen. You were just going to tease him more, flirt with him, some subtle touches here and there. You never thought things would get too heated. But then it did. So here you are now, bent over one of the sinks. You're arms could barely hold yourself together, head dangling between your shoulders as Dae-ho's hips snapped against your own. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the empty bathroom save for you two. His left hand snaked from your hips to your neck, his hand wrapped around it, but he made sure it didn't hurt nor suffocate you. He pulled your head back gently, making you look at yourself in the mirror. Making you looked at your fucked out face, remnants of tear stains could be seen on your cheeks. You whimpered out his name, feeling his cock throb and twitch inside you. Dae-ho groaned into the nape of your neck, biting down on the sensitive skin, hard enough to leave a mark, but not enough to break skin. He gave your warm, gushing cunt one last sloppy thrust before you felt hot, thick liquid filling you up. Moaning out his name as you came around his cock, a white ring forming on the base of his dick while he continued to thrust in and out of you slowly, helping you come down from your high. He didn't even seem to notice the bathroom door open and close, not until you whimpered out a name.

"..Se-mi..!" You whimpered, your legs trembled, you would've collapsed on the floor if it wasn't for Dae-ho holding you by your hips. Keeping you steady. "Se-mi? Who.. why is she here?" Dae-ho whispered, glancing between you and at the newcomer. Confusion written all over his face. "Hm, you seem to be enjoying yourself, baby." Se-mi smiled, walking over to the two of you. She raised her hand, taking ahold of your chin, tilting it up a bit so you could look at her properly. "You can't even look at me properly, did pretty boy here fuck you that good?" She teased, using her thumb to wipe away the remnants of your tears on your cheeks. "What's happening here?" Dae-ho sounded super confused. His hips still connected to yours.

"Oh, did princess here not tell you?" Se-mi tore her eyes away from you and lands it on the man. "Tell me what?" Dae-ho questioned.

"That you're gonna have to share her." She replied, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. "Like I shared her to you."

All three of your jackets were now laid on the floor. With you laying on your back on the fabrics. You moaned into Se-mi's mouth, legs wrapped around her hips, her fingers stuffed inside your cunt, Dae-ho's cum oozing out of your tight heat while she pumped her fingers in snd out of you, her thumb flicking over your oversensitive clit. Making your melt under her touch. Meanwhile, Dae-ho was thrusting into your fist. The two of them seemed to have reached an agreement, that the two of them shared you.

"Come on, baby, you can give me one more, hm?" Se-mi whispered so sweetly into your ear,"Pretty boy here looks close too, seems like your hand just feels that good." She smirked, burying her face into the crook of your neck. Nibbling and kissing your neck, leaving subtle marks on the sensitive skin. You didn't last much longer, not with how Dae-ho fucked you earlier, and now with Se-mi.. you were just too sensitive. You came around Se-mi's fingers, making a mess on her hand. Dae-hi didn't last much longer as well, that much you can tell, his cock twitched, spurting out ropes of warm cum on your face.

Now you were an absolute mess.. but you know you love it.

[yuyusshinelight]

Dad thoughts feat ATEEZ: First Word

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️

♪ This post is about how I think they would be as parents; just that, some thoughts. This does NOT represent any of Ateez's members in any way.

♪ English is not my first language so sorry if there's any mistake.

Vocabulary just in case someone doesn't know:

Y/S/N — your son's name

Y/D/N — your daughter's name

Jagi — sweetheart, darling, etc...

Note: Hi my shining stars! First of all, happy new year! How has been your beginning of the year? I hope you all are fine🩷��. Mine has been so-so, I'm sick but I'm getting better now. So, taking advantage of being better today, I'm here to bring you a new scenario for our boys being dads cause I know how much you like those parenting headcanons. I hope not, but if there are any errors or something that is poorly structured, please let me know. I hope you like it and enjoy your reading. Love you all, my shining stars!!!

SEONGHWA

✰ Obviously his little star's first word was 'Daddy'. Seonghwa had spent all her short life repeating it every time he could for her to learn it before any other thing. The poor idol came back home after a hard day at work, wanting more than ever in his married life to lie on the couch with you on one side and your little star resting in his chest. What a beautiful surprise his baby gave him when she appeared crawling towards him to welcome him while mumbling what Seonghwa could perfectly understand as "Daddy". According to what you told him, your little girl had spent the whole afternoon calling him, which made Seonghwa die of love for your daughter but at the same time sad that he had missed her very first word. Good thing you had recorded it.

HONGJOONG

✰ His son's first word was so comical but so inappropriate for a kid of his age. It happened one night in which Hongjoong was in charge of bathing your kid. The so excited baby was splashing all over the place, laughing at how awesome those waves of foam were and making his father laugh too for how cute the scene was. Everything was fun and laughs from both father and son until some foam reached one of Hongjoong's eyes. The male was not aware of that swear word he let out unconsciously until he heard his baby say "Fuck". Good luck you didn't hear it because Hongjoong was more than sure that you would have been angry with him for that.

YUNHO

✰ The first word of Yunho's first son was 'Spiderman', followed almost immediately by 'Daddy'. It was one of Yunho's free days so he obviously decided to spend it entirely with his family. He played with your baby in your bed for an hour, you all went for a walk in the park, he did household chores while you spent time playing with your kid and his didactic toys... Yunho even ended up taking a nap with your baby. And now, while you were giving your kid his bath, Yunho was playing a bit with his PlayStation. A little moment for himself that ended up being shared with your son while you went to prepare dinner because Yunho liked to have his baby near even if he was playing. And then, it happened. The moment Yunho accommodated your son in his lap, the baby pointed at the TV saying "Spidman". That made Yunho look at him with wide eyes, calling you to come quickly as soon as your son said again "Daddy, Spidman".

✰ And, even though he spent months teaching his daughter how to say 'Daddy' because he wanted to be her first word, Yunho was more than excited with the fact that his daughter's first word was 'Brother'. It was one of the cutest things Yuhno had ever heard in his life. His baby called her brother right after she heard the front door. She hadn't even seen him but she already knew that her big brother was the one coming home. He even cried when his daughter hugged his son to welcome him with the widest smile and cutest giggle he had ever seen from her.

YEOSANG

✰ His daughter's first word was 'Chicken'. Surprising to both parents, who couldn't stop laughing for how cute sounded the word in your daughter's voice, but being strangely expected after hearing Yeosang repeat several times to your daughter, "We are eating fried chicken today. Mommy is making delicious fried chicken". It was a special date for Yeosang and you and you wanted to gift him with a meal you knew he would love: Korean fried chicken. What neither of you expected was that your special day would be even more special because it would be the day in which your daughter would say her very first word. It discouraged you both a little bit because you wanted his first word to be something like 'Daddy' or 'Mommy' but you're not complaining either, it was very funny.

SAN

✰ Every time he remembers, the idol can't hold back the tears. He has the moment tattooed in his memory to relive it exactly as it happened whenever he wants. But how not to do it if his first daughter's first words were 'Love you'? San was playing with his daughter to tickle her on your bed when you appeared and gave each one of them a quick kiss. Just after you said 'I love you' your baby repeated you, making both San and you look at each other and almost cry of happiness before kissing your daughter a thousand times more.

✰ With his second daughter was equal as cute as with his first one but so funny too. As every night since your daughter got her own big-girl room, San was with your eldest daughter, telling her a bed story and giving her all the kisses and hugs she asked for before finally tuck her tightly so that his little kitten would not get cold while you were rocking the baby to put her to sleep. Just when he was sure his daughter was sleeping, San turned the little purple bed-side light on and exited his daughter's room, going to his second child's room now to give her a goodnight kiss. What a funny surprise she gave him when as soon as he peeked through the door, the baby blurted out that sleepy 'Sannie'.

✰ And, as it could not be otherwise, his third son's first words were so cute too. Yes, in plural. His eldest daughter was playing peekaboo with her young brother while the second child was sleeping on the couch in your arms. Both San and you were looking at the cute scene with wide smiles when your son threw his head back to look at his father. San, who was smiling even wider, said "What happens, baby? What does big sister do?" Then your son laughed with his hand on his mouth but, even with his tiny fist playing with his lower lip, you two heard that clearly 'Big sister' from the baby.

MINGI

✰ The Song twins had the same first word. Indeed, they said it almost at the same time, first his daughter and then his son. Mingi will always remember that day. He had come back home later from the studio last night so when he arrived home your kids were already sleeping. He couldn't hug and kiss his babies as he wanted because he didn't want to wake them up, obviously, so, after a soft kiss in their tiny heads, the sad dad went to sleep. The beautiful moment happened the next morning, when he woke up and went to pick up his children to give them their breakfast. His daughter let out that tiny 'Daddy' that his son repeated seconds before, not giving Mingi even a second to process what was happening before they started to repeat it more and more times.

WOOYOUNG

✰ His first son's said 'Jagi' as first word. Always hearing his parents say it to each other, it was more than obvious that the baby would learn it sooner or later. The story is that Wooyoung was doing his best to entertain your kid while you were taking a bath. Your baby was at that stage in which every child developed that strong need to be with their mother or father and your son only wanted to be with you. Fortunately, your son didn't burst into tears like many other times, so you could take a quiet but short shower because you didn't want to push your luck farther. If you had known... The moment your son saw you he went from laughing with his father to crying because he wanted to be with mommy. You couldn't do anything else than to go to hold him in your arms obviously "Come with mommy" and as soon as you took your kid in your arms he called you 'Jagi', leaving both Wooyoung and you speechless.

✰ His second one's first word was 'Mommy'. You were preparing breakfast while Wooyoung was playing with your still sleepy children in your bed. It's not like he didn't want to help you, it was more like his little babies had him captive between the comfortable and warm sheets of your bed, giving him a lot of good morning kisses to which Wooyoung could do nothing but give them their corresponding kisses. But then your eldest son tried to get out of the bed on his own, that was the perfect signal to get up so, holding his second child in one arm and giving the first one his free hand, Wooyoung went to the kitchen with both kids. That was when your youngest son called you, making you turn to look at them with wide eyes and a big bright smile on your face.

JONGHO

✰ The first word of Jongho's little bear was 'Mommy'. He was alone at home with your child, a boy's day as Jongho told you. And by the moment their boy's day had been fairly uneventful. The child had eaten well, he took a nap without problems, they had been playing a lot... Until now. It was your son's bath time but the child did not want to take a bath. Or rather, he didn't want daddy to bathe him. According to your theories, it was because you played with him while bathing him and Jongho bathed and got him out quickly. In other words, you were calling him boring. Good thing he had already caught his son after running after him all over the living room. What a surprise Jongho got the moment he heard that little "Mommy" from his son as he was taking him to bathe "Your mother will not like having missed your first word, buddy".

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hiii! How do you think Aegon would be if reader left for a while like in that one thingy you did for Aemond. I feel like if he was left in the keep alone with just alicent and his family without his saving grace that the moment she came back he would be locking themselves in their rooms and not coming out for at least a few days so he could just heal from the hell that was being alone in the keep

Love this idea anon!!

There's nothing too explicit in this but it's Aegon so it's also definitely not entirely SFW. If you choose to venture beyond the cut then I hope you enjoy!

Firstly, this would have to be something that is just completely out of the question for him to attend. If it would be even slightly possible for him to go with you then he would, no questions asked.

(I'm now imagining a scene where your best friend who belongs to another powerful house outside of King's Landing asks you for help because they're expecting their first child. So you go to them and help them and support them during the birth... and Aegon came too of course. Your poor friend's husband had absolutely no idea what to do with himself. His wife was giving birth and the king was... in his living room??)

Anyway, point is that it would have to be something that he physically could not go to (and also something he couldnt just wait outside for, because he would do that too). I think the only real thing that could keep him back would be if it were safer for you for him to not be there? Like maybe you travel to one of the other kingdoms to negotiate with a powerful family you need to strengthen relationships with but they absolutely hate Targaryens. You're on good terms with them so you're by the best bet and Aegon knows if the family gets a whiff of him anywhere near they could become hostile and dangerous to you so he stays away.

He may have agreed to do that willingly but he's most certainly not going to take the weeks without you with any amount of grace. He will absolutely insufferable for that period of time and there's nothing anyone can do to change that.

Aegon knew he relied on you most, knew that in truth you made of the big decisions for the kingdom because he always consults you and always follows any advice you may give him. He also knew he was clingy, of course he knew. He followed you everywhere, always taking your hand and pouting if you have to be separate.

But despite knowing that, he's still shocked to realise how much he misses you? The first day after you left he got into a disagreement with someone on his small council that ended with him calling the person a cunt and ending the meeting early. The moment the left the room he immediately thought about how he wants to tell you about this that night, and then he realised you werent there. You wouldn't be with him that night. He couldnt tell you what happened.

Instances like those occur every day. He catches himself looking for you in every room he enters in the castle, and getting confused when you don't arrive for dinner and even more confused when you don't come to bed. No matter how many times he reminds himself that you arent there, he still constantly looks for you, like his body can't accept that you're not in the castle.

When you do finally arrive back the entire kingdom rejoices.

You don't even get to greet anyone before Aegon is just flinging himself in your arms and gripping you so hard he tears the fabric of your sleeve. He grips your hand extra tight as you walk back to your chambers.

You try to tell him that you have to update him and the small council on what you accomplished with the negotiations but Aegon is having none of it. He asks you if anything you did might cause an all out war in the next three days and when you say no, then he just says everything can wait then and drags you off to your shared quarters.

You expect him to be desperate and needy and very very horny, and while you are write about the first two you're actually wrong about the last one. Well, at least at first.

Once you've caught up and he's gotten to have a little nap in your arms then he'll wake up extremely horny but before that, he's mostly just desperate for your time and your attention? He wants to hear everything that happened and to tell you what happened with him, to make sure you're both caught up in each other's lives. And then he wants to lay in your arms until he can finally accept that you are indeed back.

So yeah, no one sees you for three days.

[lvrslvt3]

SNOWY ESCAPE | w.lenney

main masterlist | yt masterlist | will masterlist

౨ৎ will lenney x fem!reader

౨ৎ summary : reader is stuck sharing a room with her crush; willne.

౨ৎ warnings : none

౨ৎ notes : i need more will content, might do a part 2? Idk i need requests

"you know me, i never turn down a free holiday." you shrugged with a smile, the few people out of the group who were listening to you rolling there eyes. you had been recruited last minute on a skiing holiday that freezy had to pull out of because he was unwell. so even though you had no interest in it you were now here.

"cheapskate." arthur piped up and you shot him a feigned look of annoyance,"i thought you'd be happier seeing as you're sharing a room with your little boyfriend."

you gasped, slapping his arm repeatedly as he tried to push you off. you told him to apologise, and shut up, to which he finally did after recovering from his laughter. since you had took freezy's place you were now sharing a room with your long term crush — willne.

you had met him from your mutual friend, arthur tv, after he introduced you to the rest of the youtube group. you had instantly clicked. everyone else knew you had a crush but you hadn't made any moves on him, way too nervous.

"will you two stop being kids?" will called out as you finally left arthur, turning to face him quickly with as much composure as you could. "come on, let's put our stuff away before we get out."

you nodded and rushed after him, blushing as he took your suitcase with him aswell. you glanced back at your friends, giving them a nervous smile as chip and arthur gave you a thumbs up - hoping to up your confidence.

"our room is quite small," he stated as you walked up the stairs and down the hallway. the group had rented a massive cabin, it was filled with character and was the perfect getaway. "but we have a hot tub, so we win."

"wow, you're so lucky to be hot tubbing with freezy every night." you joked, to which he looked back with a cheeky smile, "i'll have you know, he would be the lucky one."

you laughed, already rosy cheeked as you finally got to the room at the very end of the hall. there was a large king sized bed in the centre of the room - which makes sense why the two men would be fine sharing it as it could fit about double of them.

"wow." you muttered as you studied the wooden accents, the paintings hung up and finally the doors which led to a small patio. there was string lights hung up on the canopy ceiling, the small balcony surrounded with a slightly dated, wooden railing with a large hot tub in the centre.

"you're gonna have to drag me out this room, fuck skiing." will decided after you two had raided the room, finding some chocolates, a bottle of champagne and some sweets that had been left for you to enjoy.

"I say we just lock ourselves in." you jokingly suggested after closing the door to the small en-suite. "go on then." will replied from his spot on the bed, relaxing into the thick quilt. you flushed red, wishing it was serious, and let out a chuckle.

after going out in the snow and having a few drinks at the bar the group has finally called it quits and headed to there rooms. you immediately stood at the window to look out at the hot tub, hands on your hips.

"what you thinking about?" will asked while coming to stand beside you. you glanced up at him, giving him a small smile while taking in his appearance. his hair was dishilived from wearing a beanie all day, and his cheekbones was tinted red with the cold from outside.

"i was thinking about warming up the hot tub and having some champagne," you answered while glancing back at the mountains as you gathered all the guts you had, "care to join?"

will threw his head back, lips pouting out slightly before looking down at you with a cheesy grin. "oh, may aswell." he rubbed his hands, and you cheered as you moved to your suitcase to find a swimsuit.

by the time you had settled on one and changed, will had heated up the hot tub and changed into some black swimming trunks. you came out only a few minutes later, snacks in your hands since he had already gotten the champagne and glasses.

"you brought a speaker?" you raised a brow at the faint, quiet music playing in the background. you were impressed by his playlist, only making him more attractive. you smiled at the sheepish expression, climbing into the hot tub after sitting ur snacks on the ledge.

will handed you a glass and popped open the champagne, pouring each of you a glass and settling the bottle out the way. "cheers to getting the best room." he announced whilst offering out his glass.

"cheers." you clinked yours against his, falling into a easy going conversation while you settled into the warm bubbles surrounding you, glancing from will to the beautiful snowy mountains you were facing. eventually, after sneaking downstairs to get another bottle of alcohol, you two had settled into a comfortable silence.

"will." you hummed, your head tilting over to him. he was already looking at you, letting out a small hum to let you know he was listening. "promise me you'll never shave your mullet."

the randomness of the sentence made him let out a warm, deep chuckle. his eyes closed and you stared at his smile lines, the sight of him so happy making you lighten up.

"right, okay. i'll keep it just for you, darlin'" he moved his arm from the back of the hot tub to your shoulder, patting it before only moving it back halfway so you could still feel the heat of his touch.

you leaned your head back and closed your eyes. you thought of the debrief you'd be having with your friends tomorow, and you almost wanted to kick your feet that you were in such a man's presence.

"we better get inside before we shrivel up into raisins." will commented as he finished the last few chocolates, beginning to climb out. he offered you a hand, which you took so you could climb out safely. "on you go, i'll clean up."

"you sure? i really don't mind."

"don't be silly." will waved you off, so you wrapped a towel around you and entered back into the room. somehow, in the heat of the hot tub, you hadn't realised how chilly it had gotten.

the rooms only source of heat was a fireplace that was slowly flickering away. you put some more wood into it, before going for a shower as quickly as you could and then changing into something comfortable.

by the time you had came out will had tidied and was now patiently waiting while scrolling through his phone. "all done." you commented while drying your hair with the towel.

"don't you have more layers?" he questioned while glancing up and down your frame, only wearing fluffy shorts and a vest top. you shook your head, "i can only sleep in shorts, and i only have enough hoodies for during the day. that's what happens when you learn about a holiday the day before i guess."

you moved to the round mirror, continuing to try and dry your hair before bed. suddenly, will appeared by your side and placed down a hoodie on the set of drawers infront of you. "i have plently spare, don't be afraid to ask."

before you could respond he slipped into the bathroom, leaving you to freak out in silence as you slipped it on and pinched yourself — life seeming way to good to be true.

"you're hair better be dry before you come into this bed." you commented as you pretended your full attention was on your book and not will who was putting away his things. he had changed into loose sweatshorts and a jumper.

"i'm not a freak," he responded while climbing into bed beside you, "i am completely dry, promise." he stayed awake for an extra half hour before finally turning off his phone, his lamp and bidding you a goodnight.

you finished most of your book before copying him, beginning to feel the chill as you stared into the room that was now in complete darkness. you could hear movements from somewhere in the house, and even though you knew it would be one of your friends it still unsettled you.

because of this you tossed and turned constantly, feeling safe with will there but also knowing the cabin you were in was fairly remote and the signal was terrible - meaning you couldn’t easily call for help.

“are you okay?” a dark, rough voice caused you to jump, spinning around to face a sleepy will. he was propped up on his elbow while the other hand rubbed at his eyes.

“shit, sorry.” you mumbled, “just a little on edge. guess it’s not smart reading a horror book when you’re in the prime place for a murderer to get you.”

“guess not.” will replied, laying back down before extending an arm out. “cmon,” he gestured with his hand, beckoning you over. you didn’t protest and instead immediately settled yourself in his arm, the warmth of his body calming your nerves. “i’ll protect ya from the killers, darlin’.”

“what you gonna do, tell them a joke?” that earned you a scoff, but one that he did with a smile on his face. “goodnight.” he tightened his grip for a second before loosening up, letting you lay comfortable as he closed his eyes.

“goodnight.” you muttered through a grin, blissfully closing your eyes. for the rest of the night you dreamed of will - not murderers.

“stop putting your cold feet on me.”

“stop snoring and i will.” you muttered back, staying close but trying to get comfortable. you liked to curl up while he spread out - which was difficult since you were in one of his arms facing his body. “and my feet are only cold cause you keep pulling the covers your way, sheet hogger.”

will groaned, his voice more attractive because of how tired he was. you were tempted to keep him up just so you could hear it. “turn over.”

“what?” you moved from his chest to look at him directly, raising your brows at the slightly suspicious request. his hair was dishelved from sleep, but the sight only made you like him more.

he twirled his finger around, and you rolled your eyes but followed his order. “okay, diva.” you muttered as you immediately began to miss your proximity.

however, will quickly came from behind you. he made sure you both were in the middle of the covers before spooning you. an arm slid under the pillow underneath your head and the other draped over your waist. this position felt a lot more intimate, your whole body melting into his.

“is this okay?” he asked in a hesitant tone. shivers ran down your spine as you felt his breath in your ear. “of course, this is perfect.” you spoke without thinking.

he let out a light chuckle before tightening his grip on you, an unspoken change happening between the two of you as the pair of you fell asleep - as content as you could be.

[jetsamsoul]

Open wide ~.ᐟ

A/N: guess who's baccckk...I was gone forever because I had to go to the depths of the ocean and drag Floyd back up for you all..true story not clickbait at all. (on a real note, I'm hoping to get back on that grind. Honestly.)

tags: Floyd Leech x gn!reader // very lightly proofread, messy bday blowjob, cheek tapping, deepthroat/gagging, swallowing, shrimpy nickname a couple times, basically Floyd is an idiot.

wc: 1.7k // ao3

It was well into the evening when you got a chance to catch Floyd one-on-one. No other students quivering through a birthday wish. Not a soul taking their chances to give him the presents he openly wished for. Or demanded, really. He had spent a large portion of his birthday exploring old, ‘inaccessible’ ruins aside Malleus, which had been his birthday gift to the mer. Even a small glimpse at the pair was a sight. An interesting and mildly frightening one. Now though, you would find him alone. Turned in for the night having skipped his shift at the lounge. Why work on such an important day?

You entered Floyd and Jade’s shared dorm room with three boxes carefully stacked in your arms. Two were meant for Floyd, the other for his twin. Floyd's head perked up from the book in his hands by the time you shut the door and walked to the end of his bed. The mer sat the book down, sitting up from his reading position. “aah-Shrimpy! Finally came to wish me a happy birthday?” he grinned, pulling you into a squeeze hug as usual after you set the boxes on his bed. “Sea Slug beat ya faaar to it ya know..”

“Yeah, I heard.” You rolled your eyes with a smile and a huff. You sat in front of Floyd on his bed, crossing your legs for comfort. It didn’t bother you that he was busy all day, but you certainly felt a hint of guilt. You wanted to have been with him in place of Malleus Draconia. It was definitely a gift suitable for Floyd...The prince had taken it very seriously to get Floyd the “coolest” gift ever.

“He took me out to these ruins.” He started, leaning back on his bed frame. ”Wish I could’ve brought Jade with me though, ya know? Feel like it's the type of thing he’d really enjoy.”

As Floyd continued to describe his day to you, his voice gradually faded out as you grew lost in thought observing the mer. You liked to watch the way his hands moved around when he talked, waving them around as if he hadn’t already had every ounce of your attention. That he allowed his hair to be less tame when compared to his twins. His choice of clothing like the sweats with colorful splatters on him now. The large hoodie he relaxed in looking so cozy, making you want to join him inside of it. His heterochromatic eyes that contrasted brightly against his fair skin, drawing your attention tenfold. Everything about him eased you in like a fishhook bearing the most appetizing bait. While his story went on, your hand massaged his leg and back. 

You wanted to do more for him. More than the gifts you had already brought for him. A gift that no one else would be able to bear for him. Something special. Intimate. To your luck, you already knew the privacy you had now would offer you enough time. Floyd’s voice was once again audible as you slipped back into the present moment, a minor grin sneaking across your cheeks. 

 Floyd raised a brow at your unknowing malicious expression, tilting his head centimeters to the side a piqued interest. “What?” his position adjusted upwards.  He bore a toothy grin, closing into your space as if he caught onto your plans before you could put a single thought into action. “What’s the face for?” You assumed he already knew. You hadn’t tried to mask your stares or cover up that you had been thinking about something. Placing a hand on his shoulder you leaned up, pulling him into a kiss. He smiled in the return, hands wrapping around you to force you closer. To further the closeness you brought your body up, spreading your legs to sit on top of his lap.  Between a break for air, you licked his jawline, kissing down till your lips met the outline of his collarbone. The mers hips pushed up into you, earning a gasp that put your eyes back on his. 

“So ‘s this why you came here to see me, Shrimpy?’ he eyed you up and down, presenting an eager look that you felt satisfied to receive. “you wanted to suck me off?”  His eyes widened with idea and without giving you a moment to reply he went on.  “Is it cause ‘ts my birthday?” his hand rubbed ` on your back as he waited, his other resting on your lower back.

You nodded to him, pressing your hands on his chest as a sign for him to lay back. Floyd caught on, leaning his back on the purple headboard behind him. You wanted to make him feel good. This would be one of the best ways to do just that. Your body followed his motion, laying your body close to his chest as you rolled your hips to create friction with his lap. Floyd's eyes were burned into your skin, you knew he was watching every move you made closely like a predator. Inching down, Floyd aided you by tugging down at his multi-color splotched sweats till his briefs were revealed alongside a distinctly growing bulge. The sight tugged a smile at your lips while you leaned down for your face to meet the tight fabric. Your tongue darted out to drag a stripe onto Floyd’s clothed cock, a repressed breath slipping past his lips. You rubbed his hard-on through the fabric, the mer watching you closely from above. Your thumb slipped under his waistband teasing the sensitive skin around his dick as your other hand rested on his hipline.

“C’mon..’js take it out already..” Floyd huffed, rubbing his hands along any bare bit of your body he could reach. “You’re gonna make it hurt..’ts not real nice to do on someone's birthday..” 

You glanced up at the mer for a short moment before focusing back on his lower half. Inching down the article, his dick sprang out as the briefs passed his thighs. You wrapped your hand around the base, immediately feeling a twitch on your palm. Floyd was always much more sensitive than you assumed him to be. All that fact did was rile you up more. You wet the rose-flushed tip of his cock, taking it into your mouth moments after. It was thick. Your jaw ached at the thought of keeping it in. Your hand pumped what didn’t fit in your mouth, extra saliva pooling at the end of your tongue. You started leisurely, listening to Floyd’s hushed groans of satisfaction. Your cheek bulged as you moved your head to the side, pushing him out of your mouth to catch a breath. You kept your hand busy with languid strokes to his length

“Ahh?” Floyd’s head perked up, his lazy eyes widening with amusement. “Can’t fit it all in?” He teased. In rebuttal you pushed him back into your mouth, holding back any reflex as your mouth inched down to meet the base of his cock. The mer above you hissed through his teeth, his leg moving up as he flexed his core to fuck his shaft further into your mouth. The movement forced a gag from you, your head instinctually retreating for air. You took in the precious breath, savoring it for the short moment it was before Floyd ran his hand through your scalp, gripping onto a chunk at the back of your head to control your movement. He led you back down, salty precum spreading on your tongue while Floyd held you in place to thrust into you at his leisure. In short time his pace quickened, his lengthy cock slamming continuously down your throat while you struggled not to choke on it.

Floyd moaned erratically from above, your throat convulsing around him as he pushed his limit. You pressed your hand on top of his lower stomach, pushing your mouth off him with a ‘pop’ and erotic gasp for air following. The mers eyes shifted to you as you kept your other hand tight around him.

“I’m gettin’ real close..” Floyd spoke with a whine, sitting up on his knees and taking hold of his throbbing appendage. “Do me a favor and get on the floor so I can have ya on your knees properly, kay?” he demanded, watching you obey his wish with ease. A grin smeared across his face as he sat himself on the edge of his bed above you, squeezing your face in his hand while the other lovingly tapped his erection on your cheek. “Alright, Shrimpy..Open wide~” Floyd snickered, swiftly slipping his cock into your mouth that fell widely agape the moment he asked you to. His hand that previously held your cheek shifted into your hair, fingers tightening around the base of your scalp to guide your mouth. You’re gagging immediately, the familiar feeling of being unable to properly breathe returning as his cock slammed against the back of your throat.

 You could feel your body reacting to Floyd, legs squeezing together as you tried to stay focused on him and not stick a hand down your pants. The vibrations of your explicit hums triggered Floyd’s hips to twitch desperately. His moans grew less controlled, breath held in his chest while you worked at his lower half. The mer gasped, hands squeezing the blankets surrounding him. “Fhh-ah-” His breath grew staggered, unable to finish any sentence he had started. He didn’t think twice about pulling himself out of your throat, his eyes shut tightly as he came what felt like straight down your throat. You took it all in, swallowing what bits had stayed in your mouth. After stilling for a short moment you pulled your mouth off him slowly,  licking at the leftover fluids on Floyd. He whined, sitting up properly as he stared down at you.

“Ah-? You swallowed allat?” he grinned, proud that he didn’t seem to taste bad.

You smiled, standing yourself up to lean in and give the mer a quick kiss. “Happy Birthday, Floyd.”

© 2024 JetsamSoul - All plagiarizing, translating transporting, modifying, etc. is prohibited.

[slxtarchive]

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 … you decided after colby’s surprised birthday get together, to give colby an extra present at the end of the night

✦ … “okay everyone ready? he’s going to be here any second now.” you shouted across the room.

you had planned a surprised birthday party for colby’s 28th birthday. you only had invited a few people knowing colby would rather only have his close friends be invited.

everyone nodded and sam stood beside you. “thanks so much for doing this yn. honestly im so happy he found you.”

your heart warmed at sam’s words. “of course.” you smiled hearing the front doorknob wiggle. you quickly looked around shushing everyone as sam went to turn off the lights.

you all heard the front doorknob jiggle and then the door open, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

you were all crouching in the corner before colby spoke up. “baby?” he whispered before he turned on the lights. everyone jumped up shouting, “surprise!!”

his face lit up shocked and a bit stunned. “holy shit!” his smile grew bigger once he laid eyes on you. he walked toward you as people greeted him happy birthday. he thanked them before making his way to you. “you did all of this for me?” his cheeks were flushed.

you bit back a grin. “of course…” you grabbed his face placing a light kiss. “let’s have fun.” you playfully winked.

the night went on, perfect and with no problems. it consisted of laughter, nostalgic conversations, and toasts to the beautiful birthday boy.

even though all his friends attended, colby found himself still beside you all night. his hand would occasionally find yours and squeeze it as if to ground himself through the night.

as the party was ending and everyone had left, it was just you two in your shared room. he changed just wearing his boxers while you were still in your mini dress. colby spoke quietly, “thank you yn. this was the best birthday gift ever.”

you fiddled with the zipper of your dress waiting for the perfect moment to present itself and it just did. “i’m glad you enjoyed yourself, you deserve it.” you walked forward crawling on the bed before straddling him. your hands combed through his hair as you spoke up again. “but i saved the best gift for last.” your voice dipped seductively.

colby’s eyes widened noticing how warm your centers felt as they connected. his cheek turned an adorable shade of pink as he felt himself stiffen in his boxers. he let out a hesitant sigh. “yn…” he murmured, his hands tentatively settling on your hips.

you leaned forward settling your lips against his ear. “shh.” you whispered leaning closer so you could whisper in his ear. “let me take care of you.”

his hands became tighter on your waist. “you always do, yn.” he said just as quietly as you did, feeling goosebumps spread throughout his body.

you tilted his head grabbing his jaw to look at you. “not like this. tonight is special… i want to make it special for you.” your eyes trailed down to his lips placing a soft kiss.

his eyes flicked between yours, searching. “you don’t have to do this for me…” he bit his lip nervously. “i don’t need all this especially since you’ve already done so much.. i…” his voice was soft and hesitant.

“it’s not about what you need baby. i want to do this for you.” your hands settled on the bottom of his stomach just above his v line. “if you’ll let me.” you whispered finally, not wanting him to become uncomfortable.

colby swallowed harshly, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of your dress as he processed your words. “you’re really something else, y’know that?”

you grinned brushing your nose against his wanting to connect your lips passionately but you held yourself back. “mm, i hope you mean good with that statement.”

he exhaled a shaky laugh relaxing a bit. “of course.” his hands moved down to rest on your soft thighs. “you’re too good to me yn.” his smile was gone and replaced with another expression you couldn’t quite read.

you leaned closer, your lips brushing against his. “you deserve it. let me show you…” your hands wrapped around his neck. “let me show you how much you mean to me.”

his breathing shuddered with a nod. his voice soft and vulnerable spoke up, “okay.” he whispered. “i trust you. jus’ … be patient with me, yeah?”

you nodded caressing his cheek. “always.”

colby’s face seemed to visibly relax as his hands made their way up and down your thighs. you took his hands and guided them behind you toward your back. “unzip my dress?” you asked quietly, licking your bottom lip.

he nodded, his shaky hands grasping the metal before pulling it down. as soon as it was off he helped slide it down your shoulders. once it was fully off he saw what you wore underneath.

he gulped eyes scanning down the delicate lace that was over your skin. his hands felt all over your body admiring how beautiful you looked. “how’d i get so lucky?” he whispered to himself.

your heart warmed smiling before pulling his face towards yours in a kiss. it was passionate filled with so much love and appreciation. you both made out for a while, grinding against each other doing anything for that sense of relief before you couldn’t wait any longer.

your hand came between you both palming his erection. he groaned loudly unable to control himself. his hands moved over your breasts then your hips. he couldn’t keep his hands off you.

his actions and desperate behavior gave you an idea. you smiled as you moved off of him quickly and grabbed his dark red tie that he had been previously wearing.

you took colby’s hands and wrapped the soft silk around his wrists before wrapping it around one of the bars behind him. when you finished the tie, he was successfully connected to the bed frame. you searched his face to make sure he was okay with it. he looked so helpless. he wore a pout as he tugged on the tie.

you grabbed his chin delicately tilting his head up to look at you rather than the lingerie you were wearing. “gonna be a good boy?” you whispered, your hands trailing down to the waistband of his boxers.

his chest moved up and down, his breaths shaky. your hand finally reached his v line. you slid your fingers inside getting closer and closer to where he needed you the most.

you teased him scratching his skin lightly. he whimpered bucking his hips up to you causing him to receive some friction. he let out a gasp. he kept his actions up, his hands tugging on the tie as he did so. you tutted, “be good. i’ll make you feel sooo good as long as you listen to me. can you do that?”

he tilted his head to the side with a pained expression before nodding. “mmph, yes … yes i’ll be good. please yn, you can touch me now please.” you’d never seen this side of colby before but you loved it.

you rubbed onto him once, earning a bit back moan from his lips. you loved the way he bit his own lip trying to control himself. the way his eyes squeezed shut. it was such a beautiful view. even though you would’ve liked to enjoy it longer, you couldn’t. your arousal was starting to leak through your underwear.

you felt yourself and how much you needed him. you looked up at colby to see his desperate stare already on you. “m’gonna ride you, can i do that?” he nodded tugging on the tie that was withholding him. you grinned at the restraint. “jus’ keep being good then maybe i’ll let you touch me, yeah?” he nodded as whines escaped his throat.

you looked down and slid colby’s boxers just enough for you to let out his hard cock. it was glistening with pre cum and twitched a bit at the sensation of not being suppressed by his boxers. you grabbed his dick and pumped a few times feeling it twitch in your hand before you took the fabric that was covering your center and pulled it to the side.

you got on your knees settling above his cock before you felt him nudge your center. you couldn’t help but let out a gasp. your eyes met colby’s. his mouth was wide open already feeling how soaked you were.

you went ahead and started to sink down onto him earning a guttural moan. you let out a tiny moan as well feeling how big and filling he was. “oh yes…” you sighed, loving the way he stretched you out.

you couldn’t waste any time, you need him so badly you started to move up and down immediately. you felt him already nudging your sweet spot. to maintain balance you placed your hands on his shoulders to give you strength and help you get less tired out.

long moans continuously escaped colby’s mouth. he was feeling euphoric. he wanted to touch you desperately. he wanted to feel your skin, how soft it felt, wanted to squeeze your hips. “m’please yn, let me touch you? i’ve been a good boy haven’t i? just wanna touch you.” he begged starting to thrust up into you.

your moans we’re cut off by his words. you opened your eyes trying to keep your movements up despite that pleasure coursing through your body. “beg me more.” you breathlessly demanded moving up and down onto his cock.

he gulped as your words echoed through the noise of your pretty pussy wrapped around your dick. the way whenever you dropped down all you heard was your skin slapping together.

he thought of your words again willing to do anything to be able to touch you. it would be too late if he waited any longer. “please! please… mommy please let me touch you. i’ve been so good…” he whined throwing his head back at the ride of pleasure that coursed through him.

the name he called you pushing you closer to the edge. “yeah? you’ve been my good boy?”

he nodded eagerly. “mhm! i have… i have…” the pleasure was at the tip of becoming too much when you finally grabbed hold of the tie on his hand pulling on one string. once colby felt the tie loosen he was quick to bring his hands up to your face and pull you to his capturing your lips.

your moans mixing together as you both grunted and gasped. your hands still on his shoulder as you moved up and down. it was one final thrust when you groaned harshly into colby’s mouth feeling your legs give out.

colby noticed and was quick to follow, feeling his dick twitch inside you and his hips buck once before he came, coating your walls white.

you found yourself grinding on his dick providing stimulation to your clit as you came down from your high.

your chest was heaving up and down as beads of sweat made their way down your forehead.

a few minutes later you were cuddling up close to colby with him still buried inside you. “i don’t wanna move.” he groaned, holding you closer.

you laughed pulling away really quickly to place a kiss on his lips. “a few more seconds then let’s shower, yeah?” you combed his sweaty hair back.

“deal.”

© slxtarchive

[villainbait]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Sukuna x reader | Sukuna x genderless reader Rating: 16+ Tags: brief gore mention, canon sukuna behavior, angst, thriller, horror if you squint, drama, reincarnation, Summary: "I will find you." In your past life, you were Sukuna's jailer. In this one, you're simply an office worker hoping the King of Curses has simply forgotten you. Word Count: 750~ A/N: Sorry for the Sukuna jumpscare? I feel like most of you follow me for Sylus/LADS content, but I wrote this drabble as a warm up. ♥

“Hey, did you hear?” 

You half tune out the notorious office gossip, though you’d be lying if you didn’t sometimes enjoy hearing the petty drama happening within jujutsu society. The two in suits next to you were hardly attempting to keep their voices down, anyway. 

“The King of Curses is back.” 

You choke on your food. 

“Yeah man, he manifested after a thousand years inside some pink haired high school kid. Kid isn’t even a sorcerer, everyone’s shocked he didn’t die.” You took a chance and peeked at the guy sharing the gossip just in time to see him look disgusted. “I heard he actually ate the finger. What kind of psychopath just eats a cursed object, sorcerer or not?”  

Unbidden, a memory surfaced. 

“I will always find you, in every life if I must.” His four hands wrap around the bars despite the barrier and you feel the cursed energy keeping him confined shudder, but the wards hold fast as he slams himself against his cage. “You cannot escape me.”

The threat rings in your head like it was uttered yesterday, instead of a thousand years ago. 

“Get this, rumor is kid can control him.” 

You can’t help the dry snort of laughter that makes them look at you strangely but you ignore them and take a bite of your food that suddenly tastes like sandpaper as you fight the bubbling panic. 

The thought of your life being in the hands of a teenager’s control didn’t comfort you. You pulled out your phone and thumbed through your contacts, your finger hovering over Gojo Satoru’s number. Even if the head of the Gojo clan did answer your unknown call (unlikely), he was so lackadaisical that you had little hope of him taking you seriously at all.

The rest of the day ends in a blur of boring meetings and other tedious jobs that are handed down to worker bees like you and your other coworkers. Once or twice you were reprimanded by your superior for your lack of attention, but the conversation kept replaying that you had overheard at lunch; distracting you.

You tried to console yourself with the thought that Sukuna might have forgotten you, knowing full well he would never forget his gaoler. As you made your way to the train station, your anxiety eased with the realization that he didn’t know what you looked like in this century. You were lucky to have been reincarnated with a face that did not look like the original one you wore when you had met Ryomen Sukuna a thousand years ago when you had imprisoned him.

With his threat still ringing faintly in your ears, you stepped up to the yellow line and waited; your mind adrift as another long forgotten memory swirled beneath the surface.

His breath feathers across your ear and you shudder. “Beg me,” he murmurs, clawed fingertips raking across your stomach with a deceptively delicate touch. He could slice right through you, and you both knew it. “Beg me to save you.” 

“Sukuna,” you whispered his name with reverence and heard his breath catch from behind you. “Sukuna please, they’re coming.” 

“I’ll hear your explanation after,” he hissed and released you abruptly, joy splashing across his face at the prospect of a fight. It’s over before it had a chance to begin, the group of Heian sorcerers reduced to mere ribbons of flesh piled neatly on the ground. In an odd twist of fate, they had been hunting you, not Sukuna and he wanted to know why. It was clear you had intrigued him. 

“Weak.” Condescension drips from his tone, clearly unimpressed by their prowess and power. He flicks the remnants of flesh and blood from his fingers as if such filth is not worthy to touch his skin. 

He stalks towards you with the lazy ease of a prowling beast and you desperately want to run again. Not that you’d make it a single step, so you don’t even try. He reaches for you–

The announcement snaps you out of your thoughts as you’re pushed towards the entrance of the train.

“Rapid train bound for Shinjuku will be arriving at platform 3 shortly. Please stand back behind the yellow line and wait.”

Little did you know as you boarded the train, a certain pink-haired young man had been standing four rows down, staring curiously at you the entire time as a certain curse sweetly whispered convincingly to him.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 17 - Summer: In the Moonlight

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Your sister's birthday ball begins, but a surprise guest arrives...

Note: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a picture of Neuvillette with this little baby

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The first drops of precipitation landed on Neuvillette’s face. It took him a second to register it before he looked up at the grey skies.

“Aah...” he let out a sigh. While the rain and damp air soothed his mind, it also brought a heaviness to his mind. I should try to restrain myself for today. A birthday party should be a cheerful occasion, with sunny weather and clear skies.

Besides, he didn’t want to disappoint you more than he already did.

The trials had proceeded faster than he expected, though it was now late afternoon. They were mostly over petty offences and disputes. Even the Oratrice seemed to issue its verdicts a little quicker than usual, as though it was also impatient to get the day over with.

And now he was back at the Palais, standing in a corner outside the doors. He absentmindedly watched the people rushing about, looking for shelter from the rain.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his mind, imagining the flat surface of the sea. It seemed to work somewhat, but the sky remained leaden.

Throughout the centuries of his existence, Neuvillette had learned a few methods to settle his emotions after a trial. One of them was to distract himself with work, which was why he returned to his office even though he technically had the rest of the day to himself. He could have also returned home, but with Marie visiting family and you away for the whole day, the thought of going back to an empty, silent house seemed almost unbearable.

Yet another oddity that he noticed within himself recently. He usually relished quiet and solitude.

Shaking his head slightly, he entered the Palais and greeted Sedene before heading into his office, where he was met with a surprise but very welcome guest.

“Monsieur Neuvillette!” Sigewinne, the head nurse of Meropide, waved her hand merrily at him from the couch. Feeling  his mind lighten considerably at the mere sight of her, he strode over to her quickly. There was a tray of tea and cakes in front of her.

“Sigewinne, what a pleasant surprise. I did not know that you had a day off today.”

“Hee hee, I wanted to keep it a surprise!” she bounced over to him with two small boxes. “The Duke also sends his greetings, as well as two boxes of tea.”

“How generous of him. Give him my thanks when you return,” Neuvillette accepted the boxes and studied them. He recognized them as black tea leaves from a high-end brand. He could smell the fragrance of the tea leaves even through the packaging.

“The Duke says he’s giving you two so that you’ll have more to share with Madame. Oh, actually, he said ‘your friend.’ Don’t worry, Monsieur Neuvillette, I didn’t breathe a word about who Madame is to you. I doubt he knows anything.”

Neuvillette raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t pursue it any further. I suppose it’s alright if it’s Wriothesley, he thought. He is not the type of person to engage in idle gossip.

“He also says that he hopes Madame will like it, and that if she doesn’t, then feel free to ask him for another variety from his collection,” Sigewinne added.

“I do think she would enjoy it,” Neuvillette assured her, though he wondered about it. He didn’t believe he saw you drinking tea very much, except during the meeting with Furina. He did, however, remember seeing you drink Fonta on numerous occasions (it appears his endeavours to introduce you to the many varieties of water hadn’t yet borne fruit). Perhaps you preferred sweeter beverages. He tried to recall the pantry back home. Do we have enough sugar cubes or milk?

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” his musings were interrupted by Sigewinne’s voice. She was gazing up at him in confusion, her face tilted slightly.

Neuvillette shook his head, clearing it. “Pardon me, I was lost in my thoughts.” he said, then followed her to the couch, where they engaged in their usual conversation, which inevitably ended in her listening to his water commentary.

“Oh, by the way, Monsieur Neuvillette I really am looking forward to the sunflower viewing party in a few weeks. I can’t wait to finally meet Madame!” Sigewinne said after he finished talking about the properties of water from Mondstadt’s Cider Lake. “She sounds wonderful from what you’ve said of her. Did she come and watch your trials today? Has she already gone home? I don’t see her with you...”

“No...no, actually, she is currently attending her sister’s birthday party back home.”

“Oh, I see...” Sigewinne peered at his face, then glanced out the window. The rain seemed to have stopped completely, but there was no sign of the sun either. She suddenly turned back to peer into his face. “You must miss her.”

“Miss her? No, of course not. She will only be away until tomorrow,” Neuvillette said, almost automatically. But it was the truth. Besides, it was not as though he saw you every second of every day. In fact, it was rather common for him to only see you in the morning and at night. It should not be any different for this time, except for the fact that you would not be at home to greet him when he returned, or bid him good night or good morning...

Before I knew it, I’ve come to expect these things...

“Oh dear,” Sigewinne remarked as thunder rumbled. “Monsieur Neuvillette, how about we take a stroll through the streets? I’ve been wanting to check out the new beauty products on sale anyways.”

“Yes, let us do so,” Neuvillette agreed, then stood up. Guilt welled up within him. He didn’t feel himself lately, and he was letting it affect his emotional state far too much. He was even making Sigewinne worried about him.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind. “While we’re out, allow me to introduce you to a new drink called an ice cream soda. Madame introduced it to me yesterday. The flavor is quite intriguing. I do think you’ll like it.”

“Ooh, if you’re saying that, then I have to try it!” Sigewinne clapped her hands together excitedly.

A short time later, the two of them walked out of the ice cream shop with their drinks in hand, leaving behind astonished employees and gawking patrons. They sat down at a table in the back. Thankfully, the surrounding tables were empty due to the bad weather.

“This is good,” Sigewinne commented after she took a sip. “I especially love the fizzy soda bubbles. I’m going to tell the others about this later. ...Monsieur Neuvillette, what’s wrong? Your brow is furrowed. Do you not like yours?”

“No, that’s not it...” Neuvillette murmured, staring at his soda. How peculiar. He was sure he had ordered the same flavor you had bought for him. It tasted the same as well. He could tell that objectively, nothing had changed. But what was this sense of wrongness. Is it the soda, perhaps? Did the shop change the variety they used today? Should I inquire about it?

Neuvillette glanced at the shop entrance, which now had a line of people stretching out of it, and decided against it. The staff should not waste their precious time on his trivial question.

He turned back to Sigewinne, who was watching him closely. “There is nothing wrong with my drink, exactly. It is just that it doesn’t quite taste the same as it had yesterday, even though it is the same drink.”

“That is strange...” Sigewinne tilted her small head to the side, as if in thought. “It’s unlikely they would change the recipe in just a day, right? Maybe Madame asked them to add a little something extra. You should ask her.”

“Perhaps I shall,” Neuvillette nodded, then took another sip of his soda. It wasn’t just his imagination--it really did taste different. It had been so hot yesterday. Perhaps that affected things.

All he knew was that the sweetness of the ice cream soda you bought him lingered in his mouth for the whole day.

“What I mean is, Monsieur Neuvillette, you should go and ask Madame now.”

Neuvillette blinked. “Now?” he repeated.

Sigewinne nodded vigorously. “Uh-huh. We both know that you can reach the other side of Fontaine in just a few minutes, and Sedene told me before that you don’t have anything important scheduled for the rest of the day.”

“That’s true, but...I cannot simply show up at her family’s home unexpectedly for such a trivial reason. It will only draw unnecessary attention, and it is already so terribly late in the day...”

He found himself making excuses one after the other. They sounded empty to his ears, even though there was sound reason behind them.

He was no stranger to the clash between emotion and logic--it was something he struggled with all too often. This was no exception. He didn’t understand why that brief look of disappointment had flashed across your face when you asked him if he would like to accompany you to the birthday party. Surely you knew that it was better for you two to not be seen together too much. He did not understand why you had asked him in the first place, nor why the first thing on the tip of his tongue was to say “Yes,” nor why your subsequent justification for his sake had stung him.

If he went to you right now, would he find the answers to those questions?

“Monsieur Neuvillette...” Sigewinne crossed her arms. “It seems to me like you’re making excuses for yourself. If I invited you to my party, I would be happy that you showed up no matter how late. But if you’re worried about it, then...” she rummaged through her bag and took out a small vial. “Here! Give this to Madame’s sister.”

Neuvillette took the vial and examined the label. “A skin serum?”

“I made it myself! Skincare is all the rage among young ladies of the Court these days. Tell her that it’s from me. Everyone loves receiving gifts on their birthday, after all, so maybe this will help soften the blow of your lateness.”

“I’m still not sure if I should take leave for such an inconsequential matter,” Neuvillette hesitated, even as his mind was calculating the time it would take to go from the Court to your hometown near the mountains in the northeast. I do think I’ll be able to get there before dark. “What if an emergency comes up?”

“The Gardes can handle anything,” Sigewinne assured him. “And I don’t think it’s inconsequential at all! You were invited as a guest. I’m sure your presence there will make everyone very happy, including Madame.”

“If you say so, Sigewinne, then I suppose I could stop by for a little bit and give your present,” Neuvillette was already standing up. “I do apologize that I can’t spend more time with you today.”

“Don’t worry! We’ll see each other again at the sunflower viewing party at your house,” Sigewinne smiled at him. “I can’t wait to meet Madame.”

“I feel the same way. She would be delighted to meet you as well,” he said, and meant every word of it.

After saying his goodbyes, he quickly strode away, back to the Palais. I have to write a note of absence for Furina first, and then collect some things. What sort of water would be appropriate for a birthday party, I wonder...

“Monsieur Neuvillette is already very cute, but he’s gotten even more adorable lately,” Sigewinne murmured to herself as she observed the sun breaking through the dense clouds at last.

It was well into the evening now, and the ball was in full swing.

For an event planned on such short notice, you had to admit it turned out quite well. The large assembly-hall, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and glittering chandelier, was festooned with colorful flowers and garlands. There was even a small orchestra playing music, which relieved you of piano duty. The bulk of it was thanks to Dominic’s generosity, though you suspected that it was much out of a desire to throw a ball as it was due to his affection for your sister.

The guests dressed in accordance to the instructions on their invitations--everywhere you looked, you saw flowers in buttonholes, pinned to chests, and tucked under hair ribbons.

You, as well, was wearing a Pluie Lotus in your hair, which was tied up in a bun. You were wearing the old ballgown you had worn previous months ago, as the dress you had brought with you originally was more suited for a tea party than a ball. Justine had been quite incensed. “The next time I see him, I’m definitely going to tell him to buy you a closet full of gowns,” she declared.

The birthday girl was, of course, the center of attention. Right now, she was dancing with Dominic, her blithe laughter reaching the veranda where you were resting. The bottom of her skirts occasionally lifted off the floor, showing off her new shoes. You had given her your present before heading out to the assembly-hall, and she had wrapped you in a tight embrace and showered you with a profusion of thank-yous.

She and Dominic appeared to have grown even closer in the months since you last saw them together. He seemed to hold a genuine affection for her. It wouldn’t shock you if they ended up engaged to each other by the end of the year. That was certainly what your mother was hoping for. Though, from what you gathered from her conversations with her friends, there was some opposition from Dominic’s relatives, who looked down on your family’s small fortune and lack of connections.

Hmm, come to think of it, did she mean for me to overhear that part?

You were mostly busy with helping your mother coordinate the servants and helping with the guests (despite the fact that this was supposed to be a celebration for you as well), but you had already danced your fair share with two of Dominic’s friends, who quickly became popular with the young ladies in attendance. It wasn’t hard to see why--they were handsome and amiable. Even you thought that if you had met them a few years ago, you probably would have fallen in love with them by the end of the night.

You weren’t wild for dancing like Justine and her friends, but it was nice to enjoy it for once without having the ever-present burden of searching for potential husbands on your mind.

Surprisingly, you were enjoying yourself. The refreshments were tasty, the atmosphere was relaxing, and the company, which consisted mainly of your few relatives, family friends, and your sister’s many friends and their families, was similarly pleasant. Most people here were under the impression that you moved to the city in order to take part in the social season. Now, if only your best friend Anne were here, it would all be just perfect...

You leaned against the banister and tilted your head back, gazing up at the bright moon. You were enjoying yourself, yes, but being around family friends and neighbors always had an odd way of tiring you out faster than climbing the hills near the town or trekking all the way to the ruins.

I wonder what’s he doing right now...

The thought was accompanied by a twinge of guilt. In Fontaine, dancing was considered a social activity much like going to the theater. There was nothing inherently romantic about it, and this was a ball, after all--it was to be expected. Besides, it was the perfect chance for networking. In your future line of work, forming connections was everything. And...why does it feel like I’m justifying cheating?

You shook your head to clear it. Really, the only incriminating thing here was that you were at a ball without Neuvillette’s knowledge, and even that was debatable. And I am planning on telling him about all of this after I come home.

As a part of her harebrained scheme to “make Monsieur Neuvillette jealous,” Justine took pictures of you when you danced. You told her that there was no way that a mature and levelheaded man like him would get jealous over the horrible transgression of you dancing at a ball held by your own family, but she dismissed your objections. “My romance intuition is saying otherwise,” she said, and that was that. She, like your mother, was also a voracious reader of romance novels. “Once I get them developed, I’ll send them to him.”

Honestly, you had no idea what went on in that girl’s mind sometimes. You made a mental note to apologize to Neuvillette in advance once you returned.

“Aah...” you let out a yawn, feeling strangely tired. It felt like centuries since you participated in a function with so many people. Having to talk to so many people and smile and remember what you talked about with them last time...it felt uncanny and surreal to do those things. It was like putting on an old sweater after a long period of time but finding that it didn’t fit quite right. At least they lost interest after you mostly gave them vague, noncommittal answers.

It’s like one of those old tales where the protagonist returns home after spending half the year in fairyland and finds herself unable to cope with her mundane life.

As soon as that thought flitted across your mind, you laughed at yourself. What a ridiculous comparison!You had simply grown too accustomed to living in Neuvillette’s quiet house and only going out when you felt like it.

To everyone here, you were still the plain and taciturn baron’s daughter, and you had no desire to change that impression. There was comfort in being who everyone thought you were and not straying from it. But there was a small part of you that wondered just what would happen if you told everyone that you were the Iudex’s wife. You were almost tempted, just to see their reactions. The keyword was “almost.”

You had never carried a secret like this before. It was nerve-wracking, thrilling, and also lonely. It felt like there was yet another bubble separating you from everyone else--protective, yes, but also tempting to exult in the excitement of popping it before having to deal with the consequences.

One of your favorite novel series as a child had been about an unassuming young lady who moonlighted as a brilliant detective. You had often wondered why she let herself almost get caught in nearly every installment--well now, you felt that you understood a little.

Maybe this is why masquerade balls are so popular these days? Maybe I could suggest to Justine about holding one for her next birthday. Hmm, I wonder if she’d be married by then...

You glanced over at the ballroom, where Justine and Dominic were laughing together. He seemed like a good-hearted young man who clearly had a lot of affection for your sister. As a choice of husband, he was quite adequate. Judging from the conversations you overheard, most of the guests agreed with you on that.

“My dear niece, here you are!” a harried-looking woman rushed towards you with three young children in tow. It was your aunt Cecile and her triplets. She was your mother’s younger sister. “I must go to the ladies’ room for a bit. Please watch over the children for me!”

“Sure,” you nodded, and she immediately left. You had a feeling she was going to be in the ladies’ room for a while.

You looked at the six-year-old triplets, who looked back at you with big, rounded eyes. They were two boys and one girl, and could be quite a handful. Their father was currently abroad on a business trip, so you pitied your aunt all the more.

“Cousin, when’s supper?” the oldest boy, Albert, asked you, tugging on the hem of his vest.

“Very soon,” you assured him. Honestly, you were wondering the same thing.

Albert frowned, and his siblings let out grumbles. To prevent something truly disastrous from happening, you took out three chocolate bonbons from your pocket. “Here you go,” you dropped the candies into their palms. Their eyes lit up, and they quickly stuffed the sweets into their mouths. You had been saving them for yourself, but this was a worthy sacrifice.

“I like your socks, Adrien,” you nodded at the ankles of the second-oldest boy. His blue socks clashed horribly with his suit, which meant that he probably threw a tantrum to keep them all. “Are those blue wavy things snakes?”

“Nope, this is the Hydro Dragon!” he wiggled his feet. “Auntie knitted them for me.” 

“I see,” you said. He was referring to your mother, whose skill in needlework was renowned in town. Knitting was her specialty, and it was something you could never quite the hang of, despite many attempts. “You’re still interested in the Hydro Dragon?” 

“Uh-huh. Could you show us your drawings again later? I really like the one with the giant fangs and horns.” 

“Alright, but only if you promise not to rip them out of my sketchbook this time.” 

“The Hydro Dragon’s a boring old crybaby. I’d much rather meet an Oceanid. They’re so much prettier, and they don’t make it rain every time they cry. It’s raining every day now and I hardly have the chance to play outside,” the youngest girl, Aimee, declared. 

“It has been raining a lot lately,” you agreed, but thought of Neuvillette again. He evidently had power over rain, even if he wouldn’t admit it to you—why wouldn’t he stop it? “But don’t you think calling it a ‘boring old crybaby’ will hurt its feelings and make it cry even more?” 

Aimee gasped upon hearing that and quickly looked up at the sky. There were clouds drifting across the moon. Would it rain tonight? One could never be quite sure these days. 

Just as you ushered the children back in, the bell for supper rang. Finally!  

The banquet hall was set up self-served buffet-style. The menu consisted of roast chicken, lamb ribs, salad, and Justine’s favorite desserts—ice jellies and cupcakes. The triple-layered cake was, of course, the centerpiece. You had to restrain the triplets from running over to it. 

Best of all, there was champagne. You sorely needed a drink. 

Aunt Cecile eventually returned, and as it turned out, you were sharing a table with her, the triplets, and one of Dominic’s friends whose name you didn’t know, for you hadn’t been introduced to him yet. He gave one look at the triplets and heaved an annoyed sigh and plopped down in his chair. Well, they can’t all be winners, you thought.  

For the next hour of supper, you busied yourself with helping Aunt Cecile feed the triplets, pouring tea, and going around the tables asking after everyone. The supper was delicious, and the cake, as expected, was very popular and quickly finished. Luckily, you had saved two slices beforehand for Neuvillette and Marie.  

Dominic’s friend didn’t say a word to any of you as he ate his food. You had heard him quietly scoff at the old but well-polished cutlery and china. His sour mood was so palpable that even the triplets, who had no shyness when it came to talking to strangers, visibly shrunk away from him. Honestly, why was he even here? 

In any case, after supper, there was more dancing. Slower dances this time, which means that it was time for you to head for the bench. I wish I brought a book...well, Mother will kill me if she saw me with one, though.

You stretched your arms and fingers, feeling sleepy. Truthfully, you really wanted to crawl into bed now, but there were still a few more hours to go until the ball ended.  

As you were doing so, a conversation between Dominic and your disagreeable tablemate caught your ear.  

“Gabriel, you should dance more. This is a ball, after all. I’m sure your mood will be much lifted if you danced with someone here. Everyone here is so cheerful and agreeable. Haven’t your parents been nagging you to find someone lately?” Dominic was talking to his friend, whose name was apparently Gabriel. Considering their vastly different personalities, you wondered just how their friendship started. 

“I highly doubt I would be able to find a suitable match among this crowd. I think it would be better for me to take my leave. Inform the hosts for me.” 

“Come on, just one more dance. You've only danced with Miss Justine so far, so...” Uh oh, you thought as Dominic looked around, inching backwards toward the piano. Unfortunately, you were too slow—his eyes alighted upon you, and he broke into a smile. “Ah, Miss [Name], just the person I wanted to see. Let me introduce you to a good friend of mine.” 

You reluctantly went over to them. Dominic’s friend’s frown deepened as he recognized you. “Miss [Name], this sullen man next to me is my cousin and friend Gabriel. Gabriel, this is Miss Justine’s sister,” Dominic said. 

“A pleasure,” you said, curtsying and trying your best to sound genuine. You had to keep up appearances for your sister’s sake.  

“Mine as well,” Gabriel said, bowing. He scrutinized you. “You don’t resemble your sister very much,” he commented with a barely concealed sneer.  

“So I’ve heard,” you said, keeping the smile on your face and looking straight into his eyes. Such insinuations had long stopped bothering you, and if some uppity snob thought that he could hurt your feelings so easily, then he had another thing coming.

“Now then, I think it would be delightful if the two of you got to know each other through dancing. I’d wager that you get along quite well. After all, both of you love reading thick, lengthy books. What do you say, Miss [Name]?” You didn’t know if Dominic was too good-natured to hear the insult in his friend’s words, or if he was trying to breeze past it.

Gabriel stared at you. You could tell what he was thinking. He wanted you to decline. So he’s enough of a gentleman in that aspect, huh, you mused.

“I’d be delighted to dance. It does make for some good exercise after that wonderful meal,” you smiled at Dominic. Gabriel made a sound in his throat, but his feelings hardly mattered to you.

He led you to the dance floor, holding your hand between his fingers like he was holding a dirty rag. You would be more offended if you didn’t find it so amusing. Maybe you were a little lightheaded from the champagne. No wonder he’s having trouble finding a wife, if he can’t even perform the most basic of courtesies, you thought, holding back a smile.

Of course, considering how you were in a similar situation not too long ago (and technically, still in), perhaps you shouldn’t be quick to mock him. Still, I would like to think that my etiquette is far better than his.

The dance began. Much to your annoyance, he was quite a good dancer, though lacking passion. Neither of you said a word as you spun around to the music. It was supposed to be his responsibility to start the conversation anyway.

“...So, you like books?” he said after five minutes of complete silence.

“Yes,” you said simply. As far as you were concerned, he could do all the work here.

“What’s your favorite book? Let me guess, for a lady like you, it’d be some lowbrow romance like The Lochknight’s Passion, right?”

He wasn’t even pretending to be gentlemanly anymore. Once again, you wondered how someone as warm-hearted and friendly as Dominic became friends with someone like him, even if they were cousins. Honestly, you didn’t even like The Lochknight’s Passion all that much, but you suddenly felt a fervent need to defend it.

“I beg your pardon, but I don’t see what’s so lowbrow about The Lochknight’s Passion. It may not be the most profound piece of literature in the world, but its prose is beautiful, and the author has clearly done extensive research into the era.”

Gabriel snorted. “You don’t read a lot, do you? It might have some decent, crowd-pleasing lines here and there for a romance, but it is still nothing but saccharine nonsense.”

Your partner, taking your silence for abashment, continued. “Romance novels are a waste of paper and ink. They are nothing more than formulaic drivel penned to satisfy the masses’ base desires and lower the collective intellect. True literature challenges, reveals, and exposes. Romance novels do nothing but coddle. It appears that Fontaine is far behind Sumeru in this aspect.”

For someone who professed to despise romance novels so much, he sure did have a lot to say about them. You, of course, didn’t voice that thought.

“Sumeru?” you repeated.

“Indeed. As a Dastur of Haravatat--the school of semiotics and linguistics, if you don’t know--I have the good fortune of being exposed to so many truly sublime works of literature and being a part of an institution that actively promotes them to the populace. I pity Fontainians in that aspect.”

“So, what kind of books do you like?”

“Philosophical treatises, poetry collections, historical texts. I am rather fond of The Fall of the Faded Castle, I suppose.”

You frowned. The Fall of the Faded Castle was one of your favorite works as well, and you also enjoyed reading history books. But the last thing you wanted to do right now was to agree with him.

You and Gabriel eventually neared the doors. He was still talking. Well, more like monologuing. All you did was nod and say “uh-huh.” Archons, this dance felt like it was going on forever. If only Anne were here. She loves ridiculous things...

Peals of laughter caught your ear. It came in the direction of your sister, who was sitting on a couch and surrounded by her friends. She had her legs stretched in front of her as she admired her shoes again.

Gabriel had turned his head towards her as well. His eyes narrowed in disapproval. “Who gave those shoes to her? I know it wasn’t Dominic. Surely they aren’t from another gentleman caller?”

“They’re from a family friend,” you lied smoothly. It was technically the truth, anyways.

Gabriel gave you a probing look. You calmly looked back at him.

“If you say so. But, I would suggest that your sister make it clear in the future if she is entertaining more than one gentleman caller. It would be terrible if a misunderstanding were to occur. It’s so easy for frivolous, flighty girls like her to ruin their reputations.”

He didn’t sound as though he thought it would be terrible at all. Was he one of the relatives who opposed the potential engagement?

But more than that, he had insulted your sister. Okay, I don’t care about being polite anymore. He’s going down!

Just then, the doors opened slightly, and the doorman slipped through with a look of barely concealed alarm on his face. He briskly strode towards your parents, whispering something urgently to them. Identical expressions of shock appeared on their faces.

A few moments later, your parents headed your way with the doorman. “My sincerest apologies, Mr. Gabriel,” your father said. “But I’m afraid that I must ask you to relinquish my daughter for a few moments.”

Gabriel sniffed contemptuously, but obliged. You hastily curtsied to him, feeling a sense of foreboding in your chest.

As you went to the door with your father and the doorman, your mother joined up with you, Justine in tow. She also looked confused.

Once you were in the lobby, the doorman led your family to a small sitting room. “He’s waiting in here,” he informed you, then quickly took his leave.

Oh no, oh no, oh no...

You should have known the moment you saw the doorman’s face.

“Neuvillette!” you blurted out without thinking. “What are you doing here?”

“Sweetheart, mind your tone,” your mother scolded, but it was automatic and half-hearted. She was also gaping at the tall figure standing by the mantelpiece, like the rest of your family.

He turned to face you. He was holding a package in his arms. When his gaze landed on you, his eyes seemed to widen slightly. Maybe it was just a trick of the light.

“Good evening, everyone,” he inclined his head. Your family, having gotten over their shock, hastily bowed and curtsied. “I do apologize for my unannounced late visit. I went to your residence first, but your housekeeper informed me of the change of plans, and it took me some time to find the assembly-hall. I am here to deliver a birthday present on behalf of a friend of mine to Miss Justine.”

He proceeded to take out a small vial with a bow tied around it and presented it to your sister. Justine didn’t look at it--she was still staring at his face, her expression a mixture of disbelief and elation. She was trembling slightly. You had almost forgotten about her huge, unbridled admiration for him. Where has that bravado from earlier gone?

“This is a handmade skin serum from my friend, Sigewinne,” he informed her when she didn’t say anything for a few moments. “She also wishes you a most joyous and wonderful birthday.”

Justine still didn’t react. Fearing that she was having an internal freakout, you nudged her gently. That seemed to shake her out of it. She held out her trembling hands and accepted the vial, which she clasped to her chest.

“Oh...oh, oh, thank you so very much, Monsieur Neuvillette! And to Miss Sigewinne as well! What a wonderful, thoughtful gift. I love skincare items,” she babbled quickly. “I will treasure this gift for the rest of my life. A-And, I do apologize for the abrupt change in plans. Had I known that you were coming, I would have never held this ball in the first place.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. It is all due to my own capriciousness for coming here despite stating otherwise.”

“It’s no matter. We can adapt. First, we’ll announce your visit to everyone. They would all be delighted by your presence,” your mother clapped her hands cheerfully. No doubt, she was thinking of all the ways she could lord this over her friends for the next few years.

“I’m afraid that I will not be staying for long. I only meant to give Miss Justine the present and take my leave after.”

“You’re leaving already? But you just got here,” Justine exclaimed. “We would love to have you stay.”

“Neuvillette has had a busy day already, and I’m sure he’ll be very busy tomorrow. Besides, you know he doesn’t attend social functions like this very often,” you reminded her, even as your mind reeled. You couldn’t quite believe that Neuvillette travelled all the way here just to drop off a present.

There had to be something else going on. It was better to get it over with now rather than later. Waiting in dread was the worst feeling in the world.

Neuvillette, sensing your gaze, turned to you. You observed him carefully. You could sense something like reservation, an unspoken thought, dwelling in the depths of his eyes.

It was in that moment that you knew. He was here for you.

The thought gave rise to a strange, ticklish feeling in your chest.

You turned to your family. “Could you all please give us some privacy?”

Justine pouted, but your father was already leading her to the door. “Come now, dear, leave your sister and her husband alone.”

She begrudgingly followed him, but then ran back to you. “Ask him to stay! He’ll listen if you ask him to,” she whispered into your ear before getting dragged off by your parents.

As soon as the door closed, you quickly led Neuvillette to the corner furthest away from it. You knew your sister well enough to expect that she would be attempting to eavesdrop.

“So, what is it? Did something happen?” you peered up at him, trying to read his expression.

“What do you mean?” his brow furrowed.

“You came here personally to tell me something, didn’t you? It must be serious if it couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

“It is nothing of the sort. I genuinely did want to give your sister Sigewinne’s present.”

“You could have simply sent it by mail. Justine wouldn’t have cared if it was late. She’d treasure anything you give her.”

“I could not do that,” Neuvillette said in protest. “A birthday present should be given in person, especially if it is for someone as important as your sister.”

It was just like him to say something like that.

“But that isn’t the only reason why you came here, right? You want to tell me something, don’t you?” you looked him in the eye. “Come on, tell me. Or it will torment me all night until I return to the city tomorrow.”

“...I can never hide anything from you, can I?” he murmured after a pause, then cleared his throat. “I had a rather trivial question that I wished to ask you, but seeing as how there had been an abrupt change of plans this evening, I deemed that it would be more suitable to ask it at a later time.”

Neuvillette took another pause after saying that. He seemed to be trying to find the right words. You waited patiently.

When he spoke again, his question caught you completely off guard. “Were you...disappointed when I initially declined the invitation to your sister’s birthday celebration?”

“I beg your pardon?” You couldn’t quite understand his words at first.

He repeated the question, then added, “I apologize for involving you in my own personal quandaries. It has been bothering me for some time. I understand if you do not wish to answer my question.”

Quandary? This is a quandary for him? Just when you thought you understood Neuvillette a little, he did or say something that made you realize you didn’t really know him at all.

Still, he seemed as serious about this as he was about everything else. You had meet him on that level, at least.

You strained your mind, recalling that day in your bedroom. It felt like an eternity had passed since then, even though it was only a few days (you still weren’t sure if you should tell your family about the meeting with Furina. In all honesty, it wasn’t something you wanted to revisit).

“I suppose I was a little. I don’t really know why I even asked in the first place, and I should have checked your schedule beforehand. I’m sorry if I gave you mixed signals. Well, considering that the private tea party was changed last minute to a ball, I think it was for the best.”

The furrow between Neuvillette’s brows deepened. It appeared that he wasn’t quite satisfied with your answer. His violet eyes bore into yours, searching their depths. You suddenly had the feeling that you were on trial, being compelled to tell the truth.

“I...I also thought it would be nice to show you around my hometown,” you admitted in a smaller voice. “Since you showed me your favorite places, I thought I might show you mine.”

Neuvillette was silent for a few moments. A rush of embarrassment flooded your chest, and you looked down awkwardly at the carpet.

“I see, so that’s why.” Something in how he said those words made you look up. His head was turned away slightly, and his hand was lifted to his mouth. Without knowing why, your heart beat a little faster. He turned to look at you again. “Then it is truly a shame that I came too late. Perhaps another time, then?”

“Sure,” you nodded quickly, even as you wondered when--or if--that time would ever come. “Um, is that all?”

“No, there is something else I wish to ask you,” Neuvillette clasped his hands together, a grave look on his face. You braced yourself for yet another quandary.

“Do you enjoy tea?”

“What?”

“I am asking this because I was recently given two boxes of black tea from a friend of mine, but I do not know if it is the sort you like, or if you like tea at all.”

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he?

“I like tea well enough,” you answered. It was a staple at your household, like most Fontainian families. You preferred drinking chocolate or Fonta far more, though you didn’t say that out loud. “I especially prefer it with sugar cubes and biscuits.”

“Sugar cubes and biscuits...” Neuvillette repeated, as though making a mental note to himself. “I shall ask Marie to buy those items at once.”

“I’m looking forward to trying the tea, then,” you said. “So, um, does that mean you’ll be returning now?”

“Yes, I suppose I am,” he nodded.

“But it’s such a late hour to be making that journey all the way home...”

“I can manage. Do not worry about me, Madame, and focus on enjoying your evening.”

Neuvillette probably commanded his own personal vessel, but it had rained recently and the winds over the sea could get cold. The round trip between here and the city took hours. If he had rushed here right after the trials were over, then did he even have the time to eat dinner?

All those thoughts flooded through your mind at that moment.

And besides...imagining him going home alone in the dark...seems so terribly lonely.

Ask him to stay, Justine’s whisper returned to you. You tried in vain to push it aside.

Neuvillette’s face was impassive. He was watching you expectantly, as though he was waiting for you to say something. Or as though he wanted you to say something. Maybe you were just projecting your own desires onto him.

But did that mean you wanted him to stay?

You weren’t sure. There were a hundred reasons why that would be a bad idea. A hundred different scenarios where things could go wrong. And yet, and yet...

A bag on the table caught your eye. You opened it and found that it contained two bottles of pure, refreshing water.

“Oh, did you bring that for us?” The bottles had no labels on them, but months of listening to his water lectures had familiarized you with his collection. “This is pure water distilled from mountain snow melt, right?”

“Yes, it is. I know it is not the most suitable beverage for a ball,” he said quickly. He seemed almost embarrassed. “I only chose it on the assumption that I will be attending a tea party. If I had known earlier, I would have chosen heated water from Natlan, or the rich waters of Fontaine’s waterfalls.”

“Pfft!” you smothered a laugh. He seemed so genuinely apologetic that it was clear that he had been fretting over this quite a bit. I really don’t understand what goes on in his mind at all, you thought, a rush of warmth flooding your chest. You suddenly had the urge to pat his head.

“Madame?” Neuvillette’s eyes widened. I know I don’t smile very often, but does he really have to react like that?

“It’s nothing,” you said, trying to keep a straight face, and cleared your throat. “Actually, Neuvillette, your water would be a great boon to us, even if it is unsuitable for a ball. The only beverages available are champagne and this homemade punch made by my mother’s friend that tastes like grass. There wasn’t even any Fonta.”

“How dreadful,” he remarked. You couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Neuvillette, do you have any plans for the rest of the night? Do you need to go to work early tomorrow?”

“I do not,” Neuvillette shook his head. He still seemed to be waiting. Or maybe he genuinely was oblivious as to what you were about to ask.

“I see, then...” you took in a breath, feeling strangely nervous even though this should be the most natural, obvious thing in the world. “Then you should attend the ball. My sister...no, everyone, including me, would love to have you there.”

Neuvillette was silent. Did he need more convincing? Should you be doing more convincing? He was probably confused by you asking this in the first place, knowing how secret your relationship must remain. There was nothing logical about this. It was the complete opposite of that.

But you once made a promise to be honest to yourself and live your life accordingly. You weren’t sure you were fulfilling that promise correctly, but you had a strange feeling that this was part of it.

The logical, rational, proper thing to do would be to agree with him and send him back to your house to rest for the night.

But I’m a little sick of always being logical, rational, and proper. And I think...Neuvillette might just feel the same way.

After all, he could have taken his leave right after you answered his questions.

“Neuvillette, first, I want you to know that you’re free to leave at any time. We’ll just say you have important Iudex business to attend to. Who can question that? You can go to my house, where our housekeeper, Mrs. Bernard, will take good care of you. We have a detached guesthouse as well, so there’s no need to worry about privacy. No, wait, you should wait here so that you can ride our carriage home after the ball ends. But you are staying the night. There is no question about that. If you’re worried about people talking to the media about your presence here, then I wholeheartedly support you making everyone sign confidentiality agreements. But I do think you should dance at least once with my sister. She...admires you greatly, and it would make her whole year, maybe even decade, if she had the opportunity to dance with you. And, um, if you want, you can tell everyone about the water you brought. No one here has ever drank mountain snow melt water before. We get all our water from the wells. ” You were aware that you were rambling. That seemed to happen with an irregularly common frequency with Neuvillette. “Umm...oh, and it would be good for you to mingle with your people and all that. Lady Furina would approve, I’m sure. And--”

“Yes, I shall attend the ball,” Neuvillette uncharacteristically interrupted you. You could hear the mirth in his voice. “You’ve made some very convincing arguments, Madame, but you need only have said that you wanted me here. I am merely thankful that you don’t find my presence here distressing.”

“That would never happen,” you said, aghast, and found that you did mean it. Perhaps if it were anyone else, you would have been highly annoyed. But it was simply too difficult to be angry at Neuvillette. “Actually, I should thank you for showing up. I was in a foul mood not too long ago because of my dance partner. ...Oh, I’ll tell you about him later. And, um, I should apologize for...um, dancing with other men behind your back.”

“Why should you apologize for dancing at a ball? It is not your fault that the ball was already planned without your knowledge.”

“Yes, but still, I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings. I removed my ring as well, after all,” you said, staring awkwardly at the painting frame behind him, even as you thought, See, Justine, this is how a mature man behaves!

“Then I shall do the same,” he said. You watched as he took off his right glove, revealing long, slender fingers, the silver ring glinting on his ring finger. For some reason, you felt you had to look away.

“I am worried that I’m not dressed appropriately for the occasion,” Neuvillette mused after he tucked his ring in his breast pocket and put his glove back on, looking down at his robes. More like he’s overdressed. But that reminded of you something.

Spying a vase of fresh flowers in the room, you headed toward it and took out a Rainbow Rose.

“Neuvillette, let me help you put this in your lapel’s buttonhole,” you gestured for him to bend down, which he did, and carefully threaded the flower’s stem through the buttonhole.

“Ah, yes, the dress code on the invitation. I had forgotten about that,” he murmured. His breath brushed against your ear, and you suppressed a shiver.

He straightened, and then his eyes flicked to your hair. “A Pluie Lotus,” he said. Lifting his arm, he reached out to brush his fingers against it. “You look beautiful tonight. I should apologize for not telling you that earlier.”

“I, I...” Archons, what were you supposed to say during times like this? “Thank you. You...you look beautiful too.”

“Thank you,” Neuvillette smiled softly, gazing down at you. His hand lingered on the back of your head. For a few moments, neither of you spoke as you stared at each other. The fireplace’s light cast dancing shadows on the planes of Neuvillette’s face. His lavender eyes and horns almost seemed to glow.

Perhaps you would have stayed like that for longer, if not for the rapid knocking on the door. The two of you blinked at the same time, his hand pulling away as though it was scalded. The spell--or whatever that was--broken.

“Now, let’s get back to my family, before my sister breaks down the door.”

When you and Neuvillette emerged from the sitting room, you found your family staring at you. Justine’s cheeks were puffing out, as though she was hiding a smile.

“What?” you frowned. Did they overhear everything?

Your family looked at each other. “Nothing,” they chorused.

In the end, it seemed that there was no need for anyone to sign confidentiality agreements or anything of the sort. For it appeared that most of the attendees had become terribly inebriated from a cask of wine that one of the guests brought with him in the time your family was absent from the ballroom. You doubted they would even remember whose ball they attended next morning.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), it seemed that Neuvillette’s surprising appearance had broken through the fog of alcohol somewhat. They stared at him as though a rare animal had trotted into the ballroom before peppering your parents with questions.

Neuvillette’s appearance at this humble countryside ball was given a simple explanation: your parents had sent him an invitation, and he accepted. That was all. It wasn’t as if there was any way to argue against it, because that was exactly what happened. They say that the best lies have the truth mixed in with them, after all.

The ball, which had been slowly winding down after supper, was reinvigorated. All the men were eager to introduce themselves to the Iudex, and all the women were desirous of having their own fairytale moment with him. The stampede to freshen up in the ladies’ room was a sight to behold.

The water that Neuvillette brought with him was very much appreciated, though you suspected that it was more because it was excellent for quenching thirst rather than its flavor profile. You also suspected everyone was simply too drunk to register his impromptu water commentary or too awed by his presence here in the first place to engage with it. But you couldn’t say anything when you saw Neuvillette look so elated at everyone coming up to him with cups and thanking him for his contribution.

There were a few guests who made snide comments, but a few “accidental” steps on the feet managed to silence them well enough.

Soon enough, everyone was clamoring for the dancing to resume. Of course, the first dance had to be with the belle of the ball.

Justine had foisted the role of photographer onto you. You stood at the edge of the room with the Kamera.

After spending an inordinate amount of time in the ladies’ room with her makeup bag and hairbrush, Justine looked more radiant than ever. She and Neuvillette standing across from each other under the chandelier was a sight that captured the eyes of everyone in the room.

The music began. The two spun around the dance floor, as smoothly as water. They seemed to flow with the notes of the violins and piano. Neuvillette was an excellent dancer, as one would expect. His elegant bearing and footwork, the way his coattails whipped around him as he turned (miraculously, he hadn’t stepped on them once), the chandelier light gilded his long hair, and the raptness of his expression, as though his partner was the only person in the room, were all complemented by the youthful, blushing beauty of your sister, made it difficult to look away from them. The room itself took on a mystical, hushed quality, as though this was a scene in a fairytale.

You told yourself to stop thinking and focus on finding the best angles and lighting.

There was a loud round of applause after the dance was over. The two bowed gracefully towards the audience. Justine looked as though she was about to faint on the spot.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Monsieur Neuvillette actually came here because he was attracted by Miss Justine’s beauty,” you heard one of your neighbors, Mrs. Girard, say to her friend nearby.

“Oh yes. Miss Justine is so lovely that I dare say she can capture the hearts of any man, even someone like Monsieur Neuvillette. Why shouldn’t she aim higher? Perhaps the baron will see one of his daughters married by the end of the year after all,” her friend commented. Luckily, Dominic wasn’t anywhere near them.

When they noticed you there, they didn’t apologize or even look embarrassed. Instead, they sidled closer.

“Miss [Name], what do you think? Miss Justine and Monsieur Neuvillette make a beautiful couple, don’t you think?” the woman in the pink dress said.

One thing about living in a small town where everyone knew each other was that most people had no reservations about talking about you right in front of your face.

“Oh...I don’t know...” you replied vaguely. “She’s still young... and they’re so different...”

“Certainly, I’m not saying that they should get married right away. But in a few years, who knows? I think a lively young lady like Miss Justine would be a good match for someone as serious and solemn as him. They do say opposites attract, after all.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” you said simply, wanting this conversation to be over.

“And it could be good for you as well, Miss [Name]! You would stand to benefit from the match and also find a suitable husband.”

“Mm,” you managed. I...did not expect this to happen.

“Wait, is he...coming over here!?” Mrs. Girard’s friend exclaimed, her hands flying up to her mouth.

You turned. Neuvillette was indeed walking in this direction. He was looking directly at you.

Panic inexplicably welled up within you. Maybe this is a mistake after all.

Neuvillette stopped a short distance before you. He extended his elbow. “Miss [Name], may I have this dance?”

You stared at him, your breath caught in your throat. Your first instinct was to decline. We can’t do this in front of everyone!

But that was ridiculous. Like Neuvillette said, this was a ball and dancing was to be expected. All the more so in this situation, since you were the sister of the lady he just danced with.

But dancing with him in public...it feels like we’re bringing everything out in the open.

Your old teacher’s words came back to you once more, brushing against your ears like a breeze. Be honest with yourself.

You looked at Neuvillette’s outstretched elbow, then raised your head to look into his eyes. The rest of his face was as composed as ever--but his eyes seemed to shine brightly, full of anticipation and--dare you believe it?--hope.

Before you knew it, you had slipped your arm through his elbow. “Yes,” you breathed.

“Sister, let me hold the Kamera,” Justine came out of nowhere and took the device from you.

He led you to the center of the room. The two of you turned to face each other, so close that you could almost feel the warmth of his chest. Wow, he’s really tall, you thought dumbly, as though you didn’t live with him and saw him everyday.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Justine chatting with the musicians. What was that girl up to?

“Madame, you seem stiff. Are you nervous?” Neuvillette murmured in a low voice that only you could hear.

“A little bit,” you admitted. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. “I don’t know why, though. I’ve danced with other men tonight and I never felt this way with them.”

“That is odd,” he tilted his head to the side, his silver locks swaying as he did so. “I do not know if this advice will help, but you should try your best to block out the crowd and focus only on me.”

The music began. You startled at the familiar first notes. This piece was commonly played at weddings for the bride and groom’s first dance!

You thought about going to the musicians to get them to change the music, but the thought flew away from your mind when you felt Neuvillette wrap his arm around your waist, drawing you closer until your chests were a millimeter’s length from touching. You could rest your head on his shoulder, if you so wished. His other hand took yours, holding it as though it was made of glass. Reflexively, you put your free hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not familiar with the steps for this dance. I-I might step on your feet,” you blurted.

Neuvillette’s eyes softened. “Do not worry, Madame. Simply follow my lead.”

Dancing had never been something you were interested in. You worked hard to learn the steps not out of any passion or even liking for dancing, but only because it was expected of you. You had never understood what it meant to be “carried along by the music.”

But dancing with Neuvillette was very different. You were suddenly aware of everything--the press of his arm around your waist, the warmth of his body, the way his hair shone in the light, his intent gaze upon your face. Following his lead felt like the most natural thing in the world, as though the two of you were one.

How could you care about the crowd when he was right in front of you?

Time seemed to stop. The background noise melted away. Until it felt like it was only the two of you in the room.

You found yourself wishing that this moment would continue for just a second longer.

But your hopes were inevitably betrayed. The music came to an end. There was some applause. You didn’t hear anyone comment that the two of you would make a good match or that you looked perfect together or anything of the sort.

You snuck a peek at Neuvillette, wanting to see his reaction. If that dance inspired any emotions in him, it didn’t show on his face.

But that doesn’t matter. Because that moment only belongs to me, no matter how brief it was.

The rest of your time at the ball was comparatively uneventful. For some reason, everyone wanted you to introduce them to Neuvillette. Much to your annoyance, you witnessed many too-flirtatious smiles, lingering handshakes, and thrusting of bosoms, but they didn’t seem to have any effect on Neuvillette. He was probably used to it. Still, they should remember who they’re dealing with here!

You also found yourself with the task of taking pictures as they danced. At some point, you considered charging.

“Sister, you should really stop glaring at all the woman he dances with,” Justine whispered to you at one point. “It’s getting obvious.”

“I’m not glaring. I’m just watching, like everyone else,” you protested.

“If you say so,” she grinned and flounced away.

Neuvillette didn’t have it as easy. When he wasn’t dancing, he was engaged in conversation. To his credit, he never turned anyone away and treated everyone with his customary politeness. You worried that he was exhausting himself, but he assured you that he was fine when you quietly asked him about it (under the guise of asking after guests, of course).

“At least have some cake. I saved a slice for you,” you urged him. Left to his own devices, he would most likely have nothing but water for his meals. With Marie away today, you doubted he ate anything that could be called dinner.

He stared dubiously at the slice of cake offered to him. Then, he picked at it with his fork and brought a bite to his mouth. “This is delicious,” he said, eyes brightening.

“Mrs. Bernard is a wizard when it comes to baking,” you said proudly.

“The moistness of the cake is just right,” he said after taking another bite. You stifled a laugh.

As he ate, three small figures slowly approached him. It was the triplets. When Neuvillette turned to them, Aimee and Adrien yelped and hid behind Albert.

To a child, someone as tall as Neuvillette would be scary, you thought as you watched him go very still.

“Hey, come on, introduce yourselves to Monsieur Neuvillette,” you encouraged them to come closer. They remained where they were, staring up at him with wide eyes. You had to step in.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, these are my cousins, Albert, Aimee, and Adrien.”

“Um...greetings, children, I am the Iudex. It is a great pleasure to meet you,” Neuvillette lifted his hand and left it hanging in the air. Belatedly, he bent down to match their heights. He doesn’t interact with actual human children much, does he? You’d think that with the Melusines, he’d have more experience.

“Can I have your cake?” Adrien said.

“You’ve already had three during supper. You know you’re not supposed to have too much sweets before bedtime,” you reminded him. “What would the Hydro Dragon think? You’ll make him cry again, and he’s done enough of that already, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re right...” the little boy said dejectedly.

Next to you, Neuvillette let out a small cough.

“Children, don’t bother Monsieur Neuvillette!” your aunt ran up to them and hurried them away amidst a chorus of protests.

“Remember to show us your Hydro Dragon sketches!” Adrien reminded you over his shoulder.

“Sorry about that,” you said to him after they left.

“It’s to be expected of children,” he replied. Then, after a beat, he asked, “Hydro Dragon sketches?”

“Oh, they’re talking about my old sketch books. I used to be really interested in dragons when I was little,” In fact, it was your amateurish sketches that led to your old teacher taking you on as a student.

“But not anymore?”

“No, I suppose I became more interested in drawing ancient ruins and knights at some point.”

“I see...” Neuvillette looked thoughtful. He turned to you. “May I--”

Before he could finish his sentence, more people came up to him. You sidled away to give him some space.

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite decipher before turning his attention to the newcomers.

I wonder what he was going to say, you thought.

The ball came to an end at around eleven. The guests left in very good spirits. Their consensus was that Neuvillette was a most welcome addition to the celebration, if somewhat overly formal and distant. Some of the young ladies worried that they had offended him in some way because of his lack of conversation when they were dancing, but you assured him that it was no fault on their part and that Neuvillette was simply that kind of person (of course, you said this out of earshot from him).

After seeing the guests off and overseeing cleanup, it was finally time for your family to return home.

Since the carriage couldn’t fit everyone, it was decided that your aunt and her sleepy children would be sent on ahead, while the rest of you would walk. It was a short distance from the assembly-hall and your house.

Neuvillette had insisted on walking with the rest of your family, and so your odd little party leisurely strolled along the moonlit country paths, passing by vast meadows and shadowed houses.

As you half-listened to your family chatting about the ball, you found yourself turning your head to the side to gaze at the mountains in the distance. The moonlight lent their silhouettes a mysterious allure that wasn’t present during the daytime. In the darkness, the meadow looked like a silent and motionless sea. The scent of the air after a fresh scent made you want to lie down in the grass and close your eyes.

Even though you saw this view a thousand times in your lifetime, you felt strangely excited right now despite your general tiredness. It feels like something is about to happen.

“Madame, you’ve stopped walking,” you were interrupted from your reverie by Neuvillette, who joined you when you remained behind. “I would suggest that you stay in the group. It’s not safe to be walk alone in the dark.”

“I know,” you said, reminded of the incident. “I’m just admiring the view.”

Neuvillette followed your gaze. His eyes seemed to glow faintly even in the dark. “Ah, yes. It truly is a magnificent view,” he murmured, his voice sounding as though it was coming from far off in the distance.

“The mountains look even more spectacular during the day,” you told him as the two of you resumed walking. “If you decide to take another day off, you should consider spending it here.”

“I certainly will,” Neuvillette said. Then, there was a pause, before he added, “I do not mean to pry or ruin your good mood, but I couldn’t help but notice from talking to your parents that you haven’t told them about the assault you suffered previously.”

“Yes...I haven’t found the right time to break it to them yet,” you admitted, looking down at your feet.

“Why not now?”

“Now?” You looked ahead, where your family was in lively conversation with each other. “I don’t know... maybe tomorrow will be better?”

“I do not see what difference it will make when you tell them. In my experience, it causes greater distress when you delay such things. Do not worry, Madame. I shall help you with the explanation, should you wish for it.”

“Yeah...you’re right. I should do it now.” You smiled at him. He stared at you for a moment, then turned his head forward. You felt something warm brush against the back of your hand and felt braver.

You sped up a little to catch up with your family. “Um, excuse me, everyone. But I have something important to tell you.”

Justine immediately turned around with a gasp, a wide smile on her face. “Wait, don’t tell me!” she exclaimed.

You gave her an odd look before recounting what happened to you on that night. Neuvillette occasionally supplemented your account, mainly on the judicial side of things, and assured your family that the culprit shall be on trial in the coming months or so.

By the time you finished talking, your family had stopped walking and were staring at you in stunned silence. It was to be expected, considering what they just heard.

Justine was the first to speak. “I thought you were going to say you were pregnant!” she cried.

“What!?” you shouted. You could feel Neuvillette stiffen next to you.

For the next ten minutes or so, you endured a terrible scolding from your parents and your sister’s wails and persistent questions about the details (she had been getting into crime novels recently). Neuvillette, bless his heart, tried to come to your rescue, but apparently even the Iudex of Fontaine was no match for your mother when she was furious.

After it finally ended, your parents thanked him profusely. “Oh, thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette, for saving our foolish daughter who I thought knew better than to stay out on the streets after dark!” your mother clung to his hand. “I must apologize for her again.”

“The only one who needs to apologize is the culprit,” Neuvillette told her as he gently loosened her grip. “I promise to do everything in my power to ensure he faces justice for his deeds.”

“That Moreau is lucky that I can’t get my hands on him right now!” your father waved his spindly arm.

“You will tell us the trial date, right?” Justine asked Neuvillette.

“You will be the first to know,” he told her.

Knowing that the incident was resolved for the time being and that all the crucial matters were in the best hands, your family breathed a sigh of relief.

The lights of your house appeared in the distance. You were almost home when your father suddenly stopped in front of the gate and turned to look at Neuvillette with a serious air about him.

“Monsieur Neuvillette. I want to apologize as well. To be quite honest, me and my wife were quite suspicious of you for a long time ever since you visited us all those months ago. Did you know that we thought at first that you were playing some sort of cruel joke on our daughter?”

He chuckled after saying that, even though you didn’t think it was something to laugh about.

“Oh, yes, that’s true,” your mother joined in. “You probably already know this, sir, but there are all sorts of horrors that a young lady without fortune or connections can encounter in this world. We know, of course, that you’re a righteous and principled man, but we don’t actually know you. I hope you understand what I mean.”

“And yet you still gave me away?” you pointed out.

“Well, it is Monsieur Neuvillette, after all. And you were going to be a governess! Can you believe that? A governess of all things? Being a spinster is far more preferable to such a miserable profession,” your mother directed that last part to Neuvillette. He did not look at you, thankfully. “She lost heart after some earlier disappointments, but that doesn’t mean--”

“Mother!” you snapped. “There’s no need to recount ancient history.”

Your mother looked like she wanted to argue, but your father patted her on the shoulder.

“To put it briefly, we didn’t know what to make of things until you sent us that wonderful letter. And then our daughter asked for our family sunflower seeds, and that put us at ease somewhat. Now that we saw for ourselves how much you treasure our daughter, we can finally be truly relieved. Thank you, sir. We are truly fortunate to have someone like you as a member of our family now.”

Letter? What letter? Neuvillette never told you about this.

“There is no need to thank me. I am only performing my duty as her husband. I’m also fortunate that I was able to meet all of you through her,” he said. “I do hope we can continue this acquaintance for a long time.”

 “Of course!” They said in unison. Now it was your parents’ turn to look flustered. Oh no, they’re completely under his spell...

“My sister might seem cold and blunt on the outside, but she really does have a delicate heart,” Justine stepped forward, looking uncharacteristically serious. “If you hurt her in any way, I’ll never forgive you.”

Neuvillette looked around at your family, then his eyes landed on you. You half-expected him to start walking away. You certainly wanted to.

I’ve been living in a fantasy all this time...

Neuvillette bent down so that he was looking at Justine at eye level. “As I have promised before, I shall spare no effort to make your sister happy and to care for her.”

“And you must never cheat on her or take any mistresses,” Justine reminded him.

“Justine!” you shouted, feeling your cheeks warm.

“But of course. I have no interest in any other women except for her.” Neuvillette promised her solemnly.

He probably said something so extreme because of the pressure, you rationalized quickly.

Justine let out an embarrassed little giggle when he said that. Your parents laughed as well.

“Invite us to tea some time soon, okay?” they said to you. You forced a smile and nodded. Your chest felt heavy. I just want to fall into bed and sleep...

“Ahem, anyways, let’s get the sleeping arrangements sorted out,” you said a little too loudly, before marching up the steps to your house. You suddenly didn’t want to look at Neuvillette. At least he would be staying in the guesthouse and leaving early in the morning. A little time apart was what you needed right now.

However, you soon found your hopes dashed. Three things happened at once:

Your aunt and cousins were already staying in your room. “The guesthouse is, of course, the only suitable place for someone of Monsieur Neuvillette’s stature to stay,” Mrs. Bernard said.

Your sister was inviting some of her friends over for a sleepover, so you couldn’t stay in her room either. “Sorry about that, it was a bit of a last minute decision,” Justine gave you a wink.

Therefore, it was decided (against your fervent protests) that you would be sharing the same bed as Monsieur Neuvillette for the night. “It’s only one night, dear,” your mother told you. “Sharing the same bed as your husband is not exactly the worst predicament in the world.”

Oh, it is. It most certainly is.

And that was how you ended in the small guesthouse with Neuvillette.

“Madame...Madame!” Neuvillette’s voice came to you from far away. You snapped your head up and found yourself on the receiving end of Neuvillette’s worried gaze. It was then that you realized that you were breathing heavily through your nostrils.

“Pardon me. I didn’t hear what you said. Could you repeat it?” you gritted through your teeth, trying to fight the rising urge to run out of the guesthouse and scream into the darkness. You honestly needed to have a talk with your parents for indulging Justine far too much sometimes, and talk to Justine for her propensity of toying with people just for her own amusement.

Neuvillette stared at you for a long moment. He looked disturbed, like he was witnessing something terrifying But right now, you were too angry and frustrated to smooth your face into its usual composed expression.

“My apologies, Madame. It seems I made the wrong choice. I shall thank your parents for their kindness, and then take my leave.”

“No!” you exclaimed with more force than you intended and tugged on his cuff. “This isn’t your fault. It’s my family’s. This is just something we’ll have to put up with. We’re mature, responsible adults. Nothing except sleeping will happen in this room tonight.”

“I didn’t expect anything else,” Neuvillette raised an eyebrow.

“Neither did I. After all, we are mature, responsible adults who would never even think of doing anything inappropriate.”

“...Yes, of course,” There was a pause before he spoke. Something in his eyes flickered. It was almost like guilt. That’s weird, you thought, but moved on.

“If we make a big fuss over this, we would only be providing amusement for my family. Therefore, we will act like normal.”

“We will,” he nodded.

“Good. I am saying all of this out loud so that we are both on the same page.” It felt a little ridiculous telling Neuvillette of all people how to behave, but really, this was more for the sake of calming your nerves than anything else.

The bed was neatly made and the pillows were fluffed. Two changes of clothes for you and Neuvillette laid upon it. You recognized the lace of your nightgown, and the other one must be your grandfather’s old clothes--they were the only ones that would fit a man of Neuvillette’s stature. The linen closet held towels and bathrobes. The toiletries were neatly lined up on the bathroom sink.

“So...I’ll let you use the bathroom first,” you said.

“No, Madame, I insist that you shall bathe first.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. You had a feeling this back-and-forth would go on for a long time if you let it.

You grabbed a towel and bathrobe, then turned around to get your nightgown when you froze.

Neuvillette was sitting on the chair next to the bed, unbuttoning his spats. He had already taken off his gloves and placed them on the bedside table. His long, pale fingers nimbly undid each of the small buttons, one by one. You watched him for a moment, transfixed.

He looked up from his work. “Is something the matter, Madame?” he asked.

“No, it’s nothing,” you said quickly as you realized you had been staring. “I won’t take long.”

With that, you went to the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind you. You leaned against the door, sighing. You didn’t need to look into the mirror to see how flustered you looked.

You washed the makeup off your face, scrubbing it much harder than necessary, then undid the pins in your hair. You then proceeded to undo the lacing on the back of your dress when you ran into a major problem--it was nearly impossible for you to do it on your own.

You frowned at yourself in the mirror. This dress was one of the new clothes you bought in the Court. Justine had helped you lace it up before the ball, but with your current sleeping arrangements...

You looked at the door, then back at yourself in the mirror. You briefly considered using scissors, but decided against it. It was too drastic an action, and you did like this dress.

There was no other choice.

Taking deep breaths, you slowly opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

Neuvillette had taken off his spats and his shoes by now. He had also removed his robe and undid his cravat. You chose not to look at the sharp lines of his clavicle peeking out from behind his collar.

“Um...Neuvillette,” you took a breath before continuing, willing your heart to stop beating so quickly. Better to get it all out at once. “Could you help me undo the laces on my dress?”

“Certainly,” he said. You turned your back to him and tried to think about something else, anything else as he set to work. You could tell that he was being carefully, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible as he pulled the laces through the eyelet holes. But from time to time, the pads of his fingers or his knuckles would brush against your back, sending mini electric currents down your spine. His breaths ruffled the top of your head. Even with your back facing him, you could feel his steady concentration on you. Were there that many laces on your dress? It felt like it was taking an eternity compared to when Justine did them for you.

Or maybe...he’s taking his time on purpose? A small voice whispered, but you swiftly batted it away. Preposterous.

“There, it’s done, Madame,” Neuvillette said. His voice sounded lower than before. You clenched the folds of your skirt and reminded yourself of your own words earlier.

“Thank you,” you said, not daring to look at his face. It was only until you retreated into the bathroom that you realized that your shoulders had been tensed up the whole time.

Alright, I admit it--I’m attracted to Neuvillette. So what? Half of Fontaine is! Your heart annoyingly clenched when your mind flashed back to the amorous looks and flirtatious gazes directed at Neuvillette tonight. So what if I’m affected by his touch more than I should or that hearing his voice next to my ear make my knees go weak sometimes? None of that should change how I behave around him.

Your emotions had been all over the place tonight. It was more than you could bear. If your monthly cycle hadn’t ended merely a week ago, you would have thought this was all brought on by hormones. You had never felt like this before--not even in the deepest throes of puberty. The mass of emotions swirling within you seemed likely to explode out of your body at any minute.

A thought struck you. What if Neuvillette read your emotions? You didn’t know how he did it or what kind of information he could glean from them, but you were sure it would only lead to humiliation on your part. That is exactly why I need to get a handle on them, so that I won’t make him uncomfortable.

You ran the bath, then filled it to the brim with bubbles, and got in. The bubbles soaking into your skin managed to calm you down somewhat, enough that you could attempt to look at the situation rationally the way your old teacher taught you, laying out the facts like how you’d lay out your painting tools.

You were to sleep in the same bed with him. There was no getting around that fact. There were no other beds in the guesthouse, and you most certainly couldn’t ask Neuvillette to sleep on the floor. You yourself weren’t too enthused about sleeping on the floor either. So, the bed was where you would both sleep for the night.

Now, what was the problem there?

The bed was a queen size. It was roomy enough for two people to sleep comfortably without ever touching each other as long as they remained where they were. That was easy enough for you--you usually slept like a log. You couldn’t imagine Neuvillette being the type to toss and turn either. If he needed space, then you should be fine sleeping at the very edge of the bed.

Then, there was the elephant in the room: sharing a bed with Neuvillette. Like all young noble ladies, you were taught that you should never let a man into your bed if he didn’t intend to marry you right after. Of course, you doubt any etiquette manual in the world could tell you what to do if you were forced to spend the night in the same bed with your in-name-only husband. But really, when you think about it, wasn’t this pretty much the same as having a sleepover with a friend? You’ve slept over at Anne’s house plenty of times as a child, and vice-versa. Wasn’t this the same? Except for the fact that he was a man and the Chief Justice and someone you were probably a little attracted to...but those were irrelevant details.

Besides, there’s nothing between us. I admit, I enjoy looking at him, but that’s really as far as it goes. And I know for a fact that he has no such interest in me either. So, really, it’s just two friends sharing the same bed, just like me and Anne back in the day.

There was nothing inherently awkward about sleeping in the same bed together. If you thought of it as sleeping with a stuffed animal or something like that, then you could bear with it. It’s just one night.

Your teacher had always told you that perspective was everything. Reality is simply what we make of it. ...Though I don’t think this is quite what she had in mind.

You wondered what she’d think of this mess you had gotten yourself into. She’d probably find it funny.

Feeling sufficiently clear-headed and cheered, you finished with your bath and spent a few minutes cleaning everything up, then changed into your nightgown and bathrobe. After mentally bracing yourself in the mirror, you flung the door open. Maybe with a bit too much force, because Neuvillette’s head shot up from where he was sitting in the armchair.

“Neuvillette, the bath’s all yours. If you need any help with working it, just let me know,” you informed him airily. When he didn’t respond right away, you prompted him. “Neuvillette?”

“...Hmm? Ah, thank you, Madame, I shall not be long,” Neuvillette shook his head, as though clearing it, and quickly strode into the bathroom with his change of clothes. You noticed that he didn’t look at you as he passed by. What a gentleman.

Right after he closed the door, you slipped into bed. As you thought, there was plenty of room for both you and him to sleep comfortably while maintaining a respectful distance from each other. Now all you had to do was work on falling asleep. You considered going to the kitchen and getting a warm glass of milk, but decided against it. Maybe I’ll just count sheep.

However, your efforts were continuously waylaid by the music from the ball looping around in your head. It remained stuck in your head even when you changed tactics to count the number of spots in the ceiling. Come on, concentrate, I want to fall asleep before Neuv--

The bathroom door opened just then, and all hopes of falling asleep flew out of your mind.

Your grandfather’s old clothes fit Neuvillette remarkably well. Yet, for some strange inexplicable reason, he had opted to unbutton the top few buttons, exposing a sliver of pale chest. Don’t look don’t look don’t look! You chanted inside your head, yet your eyes had other ideas.

You had never noticed it before, but the layers he usually wore concealed his lithe, willowy build. He seemed almost delicate and ethereal, like a breeze could blow him away. You now understood why he put up with such an impractical outfit most of the time.

He looked different with his hair unbound as well. The long silver waves streamed down his back like a waterfall, lending him a wild, untamed impression. He looked less like a Chief Justice and more like a cover model for one of those cheesy paperback romances, except for the fact he wasn’t shirtless. It was incredible what a simple change in hairstyle could do.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this. You lamented inside your head. You were very tempted to run back inside your house and squeeze into Justine’s bed. You’d even put up with the triplets kicking you in the face during the night. But you knew you couldn’t do that. I am a mature, sensible woman with principles, you told yourself firmly. I will simply...not look at him for the rest of the night.

You turned your back towards him as he walked to the other side of the bed, trying to calm your breathing. However, when you didn’t sense him getting into bed, you dared to slowly turn around to see what was going on.

He was sitting in the armchair. his hands clasped in his lap. When he saw you looking at him, he quickly turned his gaze to the floor. That’s a little excessive, isn’t it? This isn’t the first time he saw me lying in bed.

“Neuvillette, why aren’t you getting in bed? Did you wash your hair?”

“I have not.” His answer was curt.

“Then you should come to bed. Look, there’s plenty of room for you,” you lifted the corner of the comforter and patted the bedspread next to you. He eyed it warily, as though you had laid a trap there.

“I think...it would be more appropriate if I were to join you after you fall asleep, Madame. It would be more comfortable for you as well, I’m sure. Do feel free to turn off the lights.” Neuvillette sounded strange. You didn’t think you had ever heard him like this before.

“But, doesn’t that mean you’ll be watching me sleep?” you pointed out. From the look on his face, you could tell that he hadn’t thought of that. “And you have to leave early tomorrow, right? You should get plenty of rest.”

“I am used to staying awake at late hours.”

Now that made you frown. “I won’t be able to sleep well if you don’t sleep,” you told him. “I’m also used to staying up late, so I don’t mind. I can just sleep on the boat ride back tomorrow.”

There was a long silence before he slowly got up and approached the bed. He gingerly laid down and turned his back to you. Even from here, you could see his tensed shoulder muscles. Which were quite broad.

Lady Furina said he never had relationships before...does that also include strictly physical ones?

Now that was something you should not think while sleeping in the same bed as him. But still, you felt a little less nervous now that you suspected that both of you were in the same boat.

You studied his horns. Was it uncomfortable for him to sleep on his back? Did he have a special pillow in his room? When you touched his horns before, they were solid but flexible, not like the horns of a goat or a bull. Did it hurt if he put too much pressure on them? He did say they were sensitive.

“Neuvillette, I’m going to turn off the lights now,” you whispered without knowing why.

You heard a “Mmm” and turned off the lights, plunging the room into darkness. The only light now came from the moon shining through the window above the bed.

The darkness did nothing to make you sleepy. You sensed that the same went for Neuvillette. You heard the shifting of the comforter next to you. He must be sleeping on his back now; with your eyes now adjusted to the dark, you could see the contours of his nose.

For a while, both of you remained that way, staring up the darkened ceiling. The image of fish in a can of sardines popped into your mind, and you let out a stifled laugh. It sounded too loud in the silent room.

“Madame?” you heard him whisper.

“It’s nothing.” Then after some thought, you asked, “Is everything comfortable? Do you need anything, like another pillow?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine.”

“How about the clothes? Are they fitting all right?”

“Yes.”

“Um...are you hungry? I can fetch something from the kitchen for you.”

“No, I’ve already ate. Your housekeeper, Mrs. Bernard, was kind enough to serve me a light meal when I called upon your house.”

“I see... I’m glad to hear that.” Something about that bugged you, but you let it slide for now.

“So, did you enjoy the ball? I know you don’t care for them, but I hope you had a good time at this one, at least.”

“I have. Out of all the balls I’ve attended recently, I believe I enjoyed myself the most at this one.”

“How many balls have you attended recently?”

“Three, including this one.”

“Wait, you attended two other balls this year? Why didn’t you--” your voice trailed off.

“I’ve attended one last year, and the other in the year before that.”

“Oh...I see.” You didn’t know why you felt so relieved. “I think...it’s good to attend a ball at least once a year. It’s nice to mingle with people in that sort of atmosphere.”

“Mm, I agree.”

“And it’s fun to dance sometimes. You did a lot of it today, though.”

“Yes. But some fatigue is worth it if it is to please others.”

“Haha, you’re such a kind person...” you laughed weakly. “So, was there anyone who you especially enjoyed dancing with?”

For a moment, there was no response. Then, you saw him turn his head to look at you. “What do you mean?”

What did you mean? You didn’t know why you were talking about this at all. But the darkness was a comforting shield that surrounded your heart. “I mean, if there was anyone who, you know, caught your eye. Balls are the most common places for people to fall in love, after all. I know you said all of those things to my family to put them at ease, but if you do develop an interest in someone, then--”

You stopped talking when he moved himself closer. The moonlight illuminated the strands of hair near his face. His eyes glinted faintly. His face was inches away from yours.

“If you doubt my faithfulness to you, Madame, then I shall assure you, no matter how many times you need to hear it from me, that I will never take any lovers or mistresses as long as we are married.”

“I wasn’t going to say that...” you briefly turned your head to look at him, then immediately faced the ceiling again. Nope, still can’t do it. “I was going to say that if you were to fall in love, then you should tell me so that I can move out of your house as soon as possible. I have no intention of being a part of any drama of that sort.”

For a moment, there was silence. “I shall be sure to do so,” he said. Was that a smile in his voice? You couldn’t tell, as the thought of looking at him right now made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

What about you? What will you do if I fell in love with someone else and wanted to be with them? The question lingered on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t summon the courage to voice it. Why had you brought this up in the first place?

“Speaking of my parents,” you quickly changed the subject. Dwelling on this topic made your skin itch. “What was that about a letter you sent them?”

“Ah, that. A few weeks after we wedded, I received a letter expressing their concerns about my intentions with you and wrote them a reply to reassure them. I’ve also invited them to my office, where we had a long and fruitful talk. I think it set much of their worries at ease.”

“I didn’t know about that. Why didn’t you ask me to join? I think that would have helped as well.”

“That was because...you were not talking to me during that time. Also, your parents asked me not to tell you about the meeting.”

“But you still should have told me regardless. It’s important.”

“I’m aware. I apologize. I have made many such mistakes in the course of our relationship.” He sounded genuinely disheartened.

“At least you’ve told me now,” you said consolingly. “I hope there aren’t any other secrets you’ve been keeping from me.”

You meant it teasingly, but the sharp intake of breath told you otherwise. “Neuvillette?”

“I…I must confess a most appalling deed I’ve committed against you,” You could not see his expression in the dark, but you imagined that furrow between his brows was quite deep right now.

“W-What is it?” His tone put you on edge. You began to wonder if you should escape from the room for a different reason.

“I…” he faltered, before rallying once more. “When I carried you back to your room that night—when you fell asleep in my study—I kissed your forehead while you slept.”

You thought you misheard at first. Neuvillette kissed your forehead? While you slept? You searched through your memories, trying to remember that night. You vaguely recalled being carried back to your room, but nothing after that.

“You did nothing else?” you felt strangely calm despite the revelation.

“No,” he said almost immediately. “I swear to you, upon my role as the Iudex, that I shall never overstep your personal boundaries.”

“But you kissed me on the forehead while I was sleeping,” you pointed out.

“Yes, I did,” he murmured. “I understand if you wish to cast me out of your house.”

You were silent for a moment, mostly because you wanted to make him nervous. He was watching you closely.

You turned to face the ceiling again. “I won’t do that. It will only bring scandal if I made the Chief Justice sleep outside in the damp grass. But what I do want to know is…why?”

“Why?” Neuvillette repeated.

“Why did you do it? Was there something about my forehead that made you want to kiss it?”

He didn’t respond right away; he truly seemed to be thinking about your question. “I do not know why I did it,” he said at last. “My apologies. I do not have a satisfactory answer for you. Not that there can be a suitable explanation for my actions.”

“Hmm,” you turned to look at him again. “You know, my mother used to kiss me and my sister on the forehead when she tucked us into bed as children. Maybe…it’s something like that?”

It was nonsense and both of you knew it. Even you weren’t sure why you said it. To lend him a lifeline? To provide an easy-to-accept explanation for this…act before you could think too deeply about it?

“…Perhaps,” Neuvillette said. You couldn’t tell if he truly believed it or not.

Honestly, I could see him kissing the Melusines’ foreheads to tuck them into bed if he lived with them.

The logical, rational part of you knew that you should be angrier at the violation of your boundaries. You should be scared. You should be not be wanting to remember the press of his lips against your forehead. You shouldn’t be thinking about his lips at all.

Neuvillette, why is it that my emotions always seem to not function properly when I’m with you? Can you teach me how to be as composed and in control of myself as you?

“Neuvillette, this doesn’t mean I forgive you,” you informed him in an attempt to gain back a smidgen of rationality, leaning closer. You had to admit, after being so flustered by him for most of the night, it was kind of fun having the upper hand. “You agree that, as the victim in this case, that I get to decide your punishment?”

Neuvillette nodded, a lock of hair falling across his face. His eyes remained on you, as if transfixed. He was hanging onto your every word.

In later days, you would blame the enveloping darkness, the gentle whisper of the rain that started before you knew it, and the champagne-caused headiness for what you were about to say.

“I’ll do the same thing to you. At some point, during the night—I won’t tell you when—I’ll go to your room and kiss you on your forehead.”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you wanted to swallow them. Oh no, what if he takes this as flirting? Is this flirting? Does it count as flirting if there was no intent of flirtation? I better clear this up.

“I, I mean it in a strictly platonic way,” you hurriedly added. Good job on maintaining that stern aura, me.

Neuvillette’s gaze rove over your face before it briefly landed on your lips, lingering on your lips for a heartbeat, or maybe two. Then, he raised his eyes to meet yours. Something he saw there made him narrow his eyes.

He leaned closer until all you could see were his pupils.

“I shall await your visit, then, Madame.”

Early next morning, a certain letter from a certain Hydro Archon informed Neuvillette that she had kindly taken the initiative of clearing his schedule for the day to “give all the time that my dear Iudex needs to spend with his wife. No need to thank me!”

As for what happened after that, that would be a story for another time.

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Taglist: @just-simping-over-genshin, @xalphafox, @jqnehr, @favficdump, @thetwinkims, @cielclassy, @the-mxs-of-many, @mxyarylla, @lynettezz, @rosedpetal, @blue-sapphire-ink, @cringeycookies, @cherie-soup, @rilllvri, @anyaeuh, @sek0ya, @sawendel

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 56

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,890ish

Summary: Wade, Laura, and Logan find themselves in the TVA, prepared to do whatever it takes to bring you home and take care of you.

Notes: This can be a tough one. Hope y'all enjoy it. Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan didn’t bother asking Wade how he got his yellow and blue suit fixed up, he honestly didn’t care enough. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists as he stood in the TVA. All that mattered was getting you back. You deserved happiness and a place to experience that. Logan would do what he could to make that happen. Laura was standing at his side, defensive and ready for an attack, while Deadpool was in front, leading the charge. TVA agents were surrounding them, with Hunter B-15 pushing to the front.

“There she is!” Wade exclaimed. “The woman in charge! Though, I did hear the author thought about bringing Loki into this, but you’ll do just fine.”

“The three of you need to leave,” B-15 said.

“Oh, not a chance in hell. We are looking for my Buttercup and will not be leaving without her.”

“She broke the conditions of her return to your timeline.”

“Look, sugarplum,” Wade pulled out one of his katana’s and pointed it at B-15, causing the agents around to arm themselves, “this isn’t a request. I will happily let my pack of wolves cut through you all to get the information we want, but I’m sure you don’t want to clean up that mess. Trust me, I’ve been there. Some stains never come out.”

Logan stepped forward with a growl, claws coming out with a snikt. The claws in Laura’s hands released as well, a signal to the TVA that they weren’t going anywhere without you. With a glare, Logan’s eyes barely glanced past B-15, noticing a screen that was showing you curled up in a field, on fire.

“She’s in The Void,” Logan murmured, fists clenching tighter.

Without another word, all hell broke loose. Claws and swords were flying as the agents tried to gain control of the situation.

“Peanut!” Wade exclaimed. Logan turned just in time to see Wade toss a TemPad in his direction. He caught it with ease. “Press the button! Little Wolf and I got it from here.”

Logan pressed the button and ran through the orange Time Door, closing it before anyone could follow after him. With a deep inhale through his nose, he could smell your smoke and it was strong. He spun around to see a large fire going in the field, a few miles away. Logan took off towards it. TVA agents began coming through Time Doors along the way. He grunted and roared as he used his claws to kill each agent that tried to cross his path. No one was going to stop him from getting to you and bringing you home. 

As soon as Logan reached the flames, he ran right in, stopping the agents from coming after him.

“Y/N!” Logan yelled. He coughed as he fought through the smoke and flames, not caring that his suit and skin was burning. “Y/N!”

“Lo—Logan?”

It was quiet and pained. Logan knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he didn’t have heightened senses. But it was there. You were there, nearby. 

“I’m here, sweetheart!” He shouted. “I’m bringing you home! Just let me see you!”

“I–I can’t,” he could hear the sob in your throat. “It’s too much... It’s all too much… I just want it to end…”

Logan continued to head in the direction of your voice. “I know, doll. You’ve been so strong. But you don’t need to carry it all on your own anymore. I… I’m here. Just let me get to you, sweetheart.”

The fire in the center extinguished, leaving a ring of roaring fire on the outer edges and smoke. He coughed as he tried to wave the smoke away enough to see you. You were curled up in the blackened grass, a dazed look in your eyes, your clothes barely hanging on with various burns peeking through. Logan rushed over and fell to his knees in front of you. His hand came up to your face, gently trying to get your attention.

“Logan,” you sobbed.

He shushed you as he pulled you into him. One of his arms secured you to him while his other hand cradled your head into his neck. “I’ve got you… I’m here… I’m taking you home.”

“I have no home.”

Logan understood the feeling. He had felt that way until Wade crashed into his life, bringing the rest of you along with him. “Yes, you do, sweetheart… you have Wade and Althea and Laura… you have me… you will always have me.” 

He held you tighter as multiple Time Doors appeared and more agents marched through, surrounding the two of you. He kept your head in his neck so that you couldn’t see what was going on.

“Alright, alright, enough of the dramatics,” Wade said as he, Laura, and B-15 came through one of the doorways.

“We have reached an understanding,” B-15 stated. “Y/N can return with you. But your TemPads and time jumpers must be returned.”

Logan tossed the one he had towards her before resuming his grip on you. You tried to curl up further into Logan as you felt the eyes of the others on you. B-15 opened another doorway. 

“That will take you home,” B-15 informed. “I am truly sorry about all of this.”

Logan scoffed as he stood up and walked through the doorway without another word. It led to your apartment where he immediately headed to your bathroom. He walked in and tried to set you down. You gripped him tighter.

“I need to set you down, sweetheart,” his voice was calm and reassuring. “Need to get you cleaned up.”

“No,” you shook your head, wincing at the action. “Everything hurts.”

“I know, but you need to be cleaned up and cooled down. You’re still overheating which can’t be helping your pain.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, loosening your grip on him.

With great care, Logan set you down on the counter. He didn’t let you go until he felt that you could hold yourself up enough.

“I’m going to turn on the shower,” he told you. He waited patiently for any sort of response from you. You gave him a single nod before he was quickly turning around to move to get the shower going. Once he had done that, he was back in front of you. His eyes ran over the burnt clothes, barely giving you any coverage. “Can I get you out of these clothes?” Logan watched as you bit the inside of your cheek, giving yourself a moment to think it over. “No funny business, darlin’, just taking care of you.”

You gave him a nod, not meeting his gaze. With great care, Logan began to free you from the tattered clothing. His eyes remained on your face as he worked, trying to show you that he meant what he said and so that he didn’t have to see the burns littering your skin. You whined and whimpered as the movements caused you pain. Once you were free of your clothing, Logan stepped back.

“I can leave you to–”

“Please don’t leave,” your voice was quiet and full of desperation. “I don’t want to be alone… I can’t…”

Logan stripped off his Wolverine suit, leaving him in his boxers before stepping back up to you. More delicate than you could imagine from the man, he picked you up and took you into the shower. He kept a firm arm around you as he set your legs down. 

“Do you want your hair or body washed first?” he softly asked. You shrugged, looking down. One of his hands came up and hooked a finger under your chin, gently guided your head up to look at him. “I’m not gonna do anything more without a verbal answer, darlin’. Hair or body?”

“Body,” you whispered.

Logan nodded before grabbing your washcloth and squeezing some body soap on it. With great care, Logan began lathering you up with soap. You were practically a doll in his arms, barely keeping yourself up as he took care of you. Once your body was clean, Logan moved to your hair. You leaned back against him as he used his calloused hands to massage the soap into your hair. Your eyes closed as you let him take care of you.

It felt natural for Logan to take care of you, despite that the two of you weren’t from the same timeline, and didn’t share the same history. It made him crave for more moments to take care of you.

By the time Logan was done cleaning you up, you were practically unconscious. He turned off the shower and reached out for a towel, carefully wrapping it around you. He carried you out of the bathroom and headed to your room, catching a glimpse of a lingering, worried Laura in the hall.

“Can you get her dried up and changed, kid?” He quietly asked.

Laura nodded and quickly headed into your room. Logan followed and gently set you down on your bed. You weakly reached out for him, whining in pain.

“I’ll go grab some medication,” he said before slipping out of the room. 

Not caring that he was still wet from the shower and only in his boxers, Logan headed to where he knew you kept the medication in the kitchen. Wade was in the kitchen, making a mess.

“Woah, Peanut!” Wade exclaimed, upon seeing Logan’s state. “Now is not the time to be putting down moves. My favorite superhero is not okay and I will not allow you to use her!”

“Shut the fuck up, idiot,” Logan muttered. “She asked me to help her.”

“Well you could help us all by getting your soaked body dry a little more. I know the readers don’t mind that you’re standing here in your boxers but you’ve got water on the floor. This isn’t a water park.”

“Fine. Grab some meds and get them to Y/N. I’m gonna change.”

~~~

Back in your room, Laura was holding back tears as she helped you dry off and into some comfy clothes.

“I’m so sorry, mom,” she cried. “I didn’t mean any of it… you’re my mom. I love you. I wouldn’t be here without you… I’m so sorry…”

You were barely registering anything around you. The pain, emotional and physical, was all consuming. Laura helped you with great care and trembling hands, tucking you into your bed once she was done.

“Okay! I got the meds! I also brought some water!” Wade exclaimed as he waltzed into the room. He immediately became somber as he took in the sight of you weakly laying there and Laura crying over you, holding your hand. 

“All she’s ever done is put me first,” Laura mumbled. “How could I treat her so bad?”

Wade sighed, coming over and sitting on the other side of you. “She’ll forgive you… Help me get these meds in her? I’ll sit her up.”

Laura nodded, taking the pills and water from Wade. Wade carefully helped you sit up, wincing at the painful cry that let your lips.

“Sorry, Buttercup,” Wade said softly. “We just need you to take some meds. It will help.”

“Here you go, mom,” Laura said, placing the meds in your mouth. 

For a brief moment, her mind snapped back to when she watched you and her father do the same thing for Charles. Her heart broke at the memory and the situation you were currently in. She silently wished that her father were here, he would be better suited to handle this. 

She guided the water bottle up to your lips and was grateful when you swallowed the meds down.

“There you go,” Wade cooed, like you were a child. “Gonna get you all better, Buttercup. Can’t lose my favorite super hero just yet. Haven’t even gotten your opinion on the new Emberine fic I’m putting together.”

“No one wants to read that shit,” Logan murmured as he came into the room, dressed in a tight black t-shirt and gray sweats.

“Actually, I have over seven thousand followers than say otherwise.”

“Bullshit,” Logan scoffed. His eyes focused on you as he came to stand at the end of your bed. “How is she?”

“Our Little Flame here is in a lot of pain. But she’s a fighter.”

“She needs rest,” Laura said quietly, guilt weighing heavily on her. 

“She shouldn’t be alone,” Logan said. “We should take shifts.”

“And I get the first shift!” Wade quickly rose his hand. “You two assholes still need to make up from the damage you did. Now, scurry off. Big Brother Wade is taking over.”

Laura gave your hand a squeeze as she stood up. She leaned over you and pressed a kiss to your head. “I’m sorry, mom,” she whispered. “I love you.” She slowly let your hand go and left the room.

“I’ll be in the living room,” Logan stated. “Let me know if anythin’ is needed.”

“Don’t you worry, Peanut! I’ve got everything under control.”

Logan sighed, looking at you for another moment before leaving the room.

“I know you’re sleeping, but I’ve got fics to write and stories to read.” Seemingly out of nowhere, Wade pulled out his laptop and opened it up. “You do not wanna know where I’ve been keeping this thing. I’ve been waiting too long to share some of these fics with you. The first one is about what I think would have happened if your dear Wolvie never lost his memories. I think you’re really gonna like it or it will just make you sad, so I guess it’s good that you’re asleep now. I’m gonna read it anyway.”

~~~

Logan couldn’t sleep, neither could Laura. The two ended up silently sitting at the dinner table, a tense awkward silence between the two of them.

“I’m sorry,” Laura eventually spoke up, her voice quiet. “You shouldn’t have had to step in… I just… She’s been carrying so much and her powers dwindling is terrifying… It’s my father all over again.”

“What do you mean?” Logan questioned.

“The adamantium in him poisoned him… He didn’t exactly die from it, but it didn’t help either… He aged in the span of that week faster than I new possible. His healing stopped and everything was painful for him… And now I’m watching my mom go through it… She’s done everything for me. She pushed aside all her pain and grief to raise me… She never deserved those hurtful words.”

“No, she didn’t,” Logan responded. “But,” he leaned forward to try and catch Laura’s eye, “it’s also not all on you. Your mom has clearly had things building up inside her for a lot time. It was only time before Y/N broke like this.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.” Laura’s gaze dropped to her hands, rubbing over the spots where her claws extend. 

“What else is bothering you, kid?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar.”

She sighed. “It’s… you.”

Logan tried to not be too surprised at her honesty. “Me?”

“You look exactly like my father… exactly like my mother’s husband… but you’re not him. You don’t share the same memories. You… treat me better than he ever treated me. But you’re still not him.”

“I’m not trying to replace him, kid. I’m just trying to be friends—“

“Yeah? And what happens when that leads to more on either one of your ends? Will you walk away if seeing you becomes too much for her or will you break her heart when she feels more than you do? Or is she just a replacement for the Y/N you lost?”

Laura’s words hit Logan harder than he wished they would. Was his presence making everything worse for you? It clearly was harder on Laura than he originally thought. Before he could let his thoughts spiral too much, Logan stood up and strode down the hall. He reached your room to find you still asleep and Wade furiously typing away at a computer.

“Oh, Peanut, just in time!” Wade greeted, not too loud to prevent you from walking up. “I just finished a new fic. I’m sure that it will grow on you. It’s obviously an Emberine fic with a smutty—“

“Get the fuck out,” Logan grumbled. “It’s my shift.”

“Fine.” Wade closed the laptop and leapt from the bed. “I’ll go see if Laura wants to hear my stories. Don’t do anything stupid, Peanut.” Then he was gone.

Logan took a deep breath before taking Wade’s spot on the bed. He couldn’t look at your sleeping form right now, keeping his eyes on the picture of you and your original Logan on the dresser.

“I’m sorry if I’m making things worse,” he whispered. “I just… I haven’t had people in so long… I haven’t let anyone close. I thought that I’d give it a shot… That I wouldn’t walk away… But I will, if it’s too much for you… I’ve really enjoyed becoming friends with you.” 

His head snapped down as some of your fingers brushed against his hand.

“Don’t,” you rasped, eyes still closed as everything still weighed on you. “Don’t… I need friends, too…” Your hand moved to lay on top of Logan’s as your eyes opened a fraction. “Thank you… for bringing me home.”

“Anytime, doll. It’s what friends do.”

next chapter >

[pinkkop]

For the past while I've been wanting to start doing weekly post about the QL's I'm watching and the new year is the perfect opportunity to start doing just that!

It'll be a place where i can share my thoughts on the BL and GL shows while I'm watching them and leave my final thoughts as well.

This week I've just left the shows in alphabetical order but I'll probably start sorting them from most to least liked next week. Also I hope this post doesn't feel too long since I don't know where I'd place a cut 😊

Let me know if there's anything you find confusing or if there's anything I could do better for next week.

QL Recap for Week 1 The 30th of December to 5th of January

🇹🇭 Caged Again Ep. 9 of 10 ----- Watching on: Gagaoolala

I'm still enjoying this a lot but it's definitely lost some of its spark. 

🇹🇭 Fourever You Ep. 15 of 16 ---------- Watching on: Gray

I'd completely forgotten that WeTV starts fast-tracking the episodes towards the end so color me surprised when I saw that ep 15 was also available and unsurprisingly I watched it the second I realized. I lost interest in Ter and Hill a couple of episodes ago so I don't pay much attention to them anymore. I am however really enjoying Johan and North. I feel like I haven't seen this kind of pairing before. I'm really enjoying the slow development of North slowly learning who Johan is and opening up to him and then Johan slowly opening up to North as well. I'm not a fan of when characters get unnecessarily jealous of their romantic interest's friends or have a problem with friends being close like when Hill saw a problem with how North and Ter cuddle. On top of this I don't like when a character makes decisions for their romantic interest unless they are small decisions, which meant that I also wasn't a fan of how Hill and Johan fixed the "problem" with Ter and North cuddling. Like who the fuck just moves their boyfriend out of their place and into yours without asking first 🤯. Those two things are the only major gripes I have with this show right now and I mostly just try to ignore them because Johan and North are still hella cute and I love that they are finally officially dating without drawing it out unnecessarily (looking at you, Hill and Ter).

🇯🇵 Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu Ep. 9 of 10 ----- Watching on: Gagaoolala

I'm not sure where they are heading and what Hirukawa is thinking with how he is acting but I've really enjoyed this show as a whole so I trust that it'll all make sense next week with the final episode.

🇹🇭 Perfect 10 Liners Ep. 11 of 24 ------- Watching on: Youtube

I really like Gun and Yotha as a pairing and I'm definitely invested in this show but it's not at the top of the list.

🇹🇭 Petrichor Ep. 6 of 10 ----------- Watching on: iQiYi

So many reveals this episode! This show is not quite the same level of brain-rot as Spare Me Your Mercy was for me but I'm having a good time and I'm invested in the story.

🇹🇭 Sangmin Dinneaw Ep. 2 of 8 ----------- Watching on: iQiYi

The first episode was promising and I'm always a fan of characters having sexual fantasies because it gives a good insight into the character's feelings, both because of the fantasy but also with how they react to it. Episode two made me feel more like I was watching a pulp drama and I'll admit that I'm not a big fan of the over the top acting of some of the characters which seems like those characters will keep being a part of the story going forward. It's just not a type of humor I find funny but so far it's not enough for me to drop this show. The trailer was steeped in it though so who knows how much of the show will focus on that kind of humor.

🇹🇼 See Your Love Ep. 12 of 13 ---- Watching on: Gagaoolala

These two are just the cutest and I'm enjoying them so much. The small touches and the casual kisses are so good and it makes them feel really real and like a good match in a way that not all BL couples do when we get to experience them after they get together. I love how Shaopeng's deafness is still a part of the plot but not in the sense that it needs to be fixed, it's just a natural part of him and it bleeds into all aspects of the plot in a really great way. Honestly this is just such a solid show! 10/10 would recommend. I'd just like for the episodes to be just 5-10 min longer so I could get more of the second couple.

🇹🇭 ThamePo Heart That Skips a Beat Ep. 4 of 13 -------- Watching on: Youtube

I'm still absolutely on board with this show. The plot of getting the band together feels a little simple but I really don't mind it because it works well with Thame and Poo getting to know each other. After this episode I wonder whether Jun actually believed what he said about Thame to Po. Like does he really believe that Thame isn't interested in Po or is he just trying to avoid them getting together? Either way it was so delicious to see Po start doubting himself but then Thame once again showing loudly with his actions that he is so interested in Po and that Po is a priority to him. Like who talks on the phone for hours, falls asleep still on the call and then just keeps being on the phone when you wake up again and then pretty much serenades the other person in the morning 🤯 Absolute bonkers behavior from Thame and I'm so here for it. This actually makes me wonder how self-aware Thame actually is? Does he know that he has feelings for Po? 

🇹🇭 The Boy Next World Ep. 1 of 10 ----------- Watching on: iQiYi

This is definitely a show where I needed to lower my expectations before watching the first episode because I've really been looking forward to this and I'd much rather set my expectations low and be happily surprise. I really liked the production quality of this show after the first episode and Boss and Noeul are doing really well. I'm definitely still excited about this show even if the first ep left me a little confused but I think that's to be expected when a show introduces concepts like parallel universes so I'm expecting that it'll make sense with time.

🇹🇭 Your Sky Ep. 8 of 12 ----------- Watching on: iQiYi

These two are so damn cute! This show just keeps being this little happy bubble for me. I'm glad they didn't drag out the misunderstanding so now they just gotta figure out how to bone. I like Real and Hia a lot as well but we don't really get enough of them for me to get completely invested. So far I'm not entirely sure what Hia thinks and feels because we've only really seen glimpses of Real realizing he has feelings for Hia. I'm guessing we'll get more of them while Fah and Rak figure out how to be a couple. 

That's it for this week!

For links and airing schedule check out World of BL (Only for BLs)

[izayoichan]

The future of this blog, kinda part two? (sorry for the wall of text.. again!) It's been a lot of trying to find the love for sims again for me, trying to find the fun. But I have come to the conclusion, that right now, it just is not. I have not uppdated, opened, touched the for anything but taking a couple of screenshots because I comissioned poses so I wanted to use them, or I just felt (stupidly I guess) that I had to so this blog had sims content. That is what this blog is to me, its linked with sims, the story I started creating with them, and friends that also love sims. But like mentioned, for me the fun of sims is gone. (Thank you EA, for constantly making sims worse and worse and boring to the point where it's for me just not worth spending energy on). So I will from tomorrow let what I have left of the story that's already written post twice a day until it's done. I will at the same time share all the last sims screenshots I have lying around that I have kept to myself because spoilers and me having the need to be a little secrety, and when that is all posted and ended, I will make a post with a new blog, a new start for me to find my fun again. I don't want to delete what is here, because I am actually proud of it, that I managed to share and write a story for the first time. So instead I am making a new blog, where I will post random screenshots, random things I find, reblog more stuff that I find pretty and so on. I am working on going back to streaming for fun as well, but that will take time and some effort as I want certain things, and I want to do them right and properly. (Live 2d avatars are not easy, cheap or fast to have done!) So the progress on that might be on my new blog as well, and maybe when time comes, I will have clips of sillness and me grumbling and cursing the game while I once more fail miserably at Elden Ring. Yes, I will still follow a lot of the same people, because although my relationship with sims is (for now) at an end, I still love your stories, and your little pixel figures. I am not breaking away from that, I am breaking away from my own stuff. Do I feel like I let people down, a little, but I know that's just how my brain works and that this is doing what is best for me outweighs that worry. (specially after talking to some people about it for some input, and them saying I should do what it best for me. See I am listening!) A little health update at the end, for those interrested: I am slowly doing better, new doctor and new scans have brought more understanding, more peace of mind, and I am back on most of my pain meds, which means my body is slowly stabalizing into a new place. Not quite as good as I was before "hell year" started, but also not as bad as I have been. I'll take every step in the right direction with a big smile on my face.

So for now, enjoy the sims content that will come. And when the time comes, perhaps I will be seeing a lot of you on the new page as well!

[kindaorangey]

recently i've been thinking about rowan omondi in terms of the "supportive black best friend" trope. i've had this idea for a while that it would be interesting to see a story that deals specifically with the psychological effects of being the designated "support friend", especially in cases where that character addressing/expressing their own emotions and advocating for themself would be stigmatised because of their race... and obviously, rowan fits into this neatly, actively repressing and refusing to talk about his feelings because he isn't usually given this sort of support by his friends, it's usually him who's supporting them. and i guess on a metatextual level, once he begins to address his own emotional repression and step down from that support role, you could view it as him becoming cognisant of his own role as the "supportive black best friend".

[mayspicer]

Ok, the boss is no more! There were some super stressful moments but surprisingly we all survived o:

My animal companion got hit with disintegrate, but we had hero points to make him avoid it. I would cry actually, because disintegrate means no resurrection x_x

The war is prevented! At least this one, because Cayden's party is right at the center of a much bigger one just starting. Today we saved the country. Cayden is trying to not even save the whole world, just maybe slow the whole thing down and save as much people as possible...

[storusangel]

STUDY SESSIONS

a/n: ohhhh my god, i finally finished this. it's been half finished for months but i did it!! hope you guys enjoy!

cw: fem!reader, dom!satosugu, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweet girl), slight petplay (like if you squint really hard), fingering, manhandling, double vag pen., biting, squirting, creampie, oral f!receiving, overstim, aftercare, MINORS DNI

word count: 4.5k

satoru and suguru are the stars of your university.

they have it all — the looks, the grades, the girls (and guys). and in your shared BIO 141 class, better known as your human anatomy and physiology class, they’re known for being top of the class, never having failed an exam. you, however, have been falling behind in that said class. 

but it truly isn’t your fault. you can’t help that the two men sit at a perfect angle for you to gawk and stare at them for the entirety of class. yeah, it’s not your fault at all! in fact, it’s your stupid professor’s fault for placing the two pieces of eye candy directly in your line of view!

it’s tuesday again and your professor is rambling on about the limbic system or something of the sort. you don’t really comprehend what he’s saying because it seems the two pieces of eye candy have gotten matching tattoos. a dark betta fish on suguru’s right bicep and a lighter one on satoru’s left. 

you can’t help but let your mind wander to how those arms would look holding you up as they’re pounding into you. dirty words being whispered into your ear as you try your best to keep up with them. “such a good slut for u-“

your name being called out by your professor yanks you out of your trance. you blink twice, ripping your eyes of the two boys but not before they could catch you staring at them. 

“i asked you a question.”

“s-sorry professor” you wince at how silly you sound stuttering after being caught daydreaming in class.

your professor just sighs and instead of repeating his question, he tells you to stay after class to meet with him. you can feel the eyes of your classmates boring into you, the immature snickers make you want to go back to your dorm and stay there forever.

or better yet, go to satoru and suguru’s shared apartment and let them fuck the embarrassment away.

you shake your head in an attempt to refocus your attention. before you can tune in to what your professor has to say, you see satoru and suguru steal a quick glance at you and whisper to each other. 

“gojo and geto, i’d like you two after class as well”  

once more, the class erupts into whispering to their nearest friend before the professor regains their attention once and for all. you also stop your mind from wandering too far into your daydreams about what could happen after class and return your attention back to the professor who was clearly irritated. 

in an effort to save yourself from embarrassment, you head down to see your professor as soon as class ends to end the conversation before the two boys can tune in. 

“i assume you understand why i wanted to see you?” his voice is sharp, an underlying tone of dissatisfaction.

“yes sir, i know my grade in your class need some work but i will do my best to bring it up” 

his reply is quick. “i know you will because gojo and geto will be tutoring you.”

you truly don’t know how to feel. getting the chance to be around your crushes is both amazing and horrible. thinking about how they definitely know you’ve been staring at them every class makes you feel nauseous. thinking about being perceived isn’t your favorite thing, but thinking about how they’ll be around you, teaching you the course that you’ve completely missed out on due to your very vivid daydreams. 

“wait, what?” god, satoru’s voice sounded much sexier when it was right behind you. 

“you heard me. both of you will be helping her understand her classwork until the end of the semester.” and your professor's voice sounded much scarier when it was in right front of you. “i’ll know if you two have truly put enough effort in when i see her grade on our next exam.”

you’re too ashamed to make eye contact with the two boys, a wave of embarrassment flooding your face knowing that your two crushes now know your biggest academic insecurity. the room is silent until suguru speaks up, “okay, we’ll need your number though” yeah, suguru’s voice was just as sexy as satoru’s. 

you hear your name being called. you finally make eye contact. “sorry, what?” your voice is meek, smaller than you remember it to be. satoru laughs, “your number, sweetheart. so we can set a date for our sessions. you know, the tutoring ones?” satoru calling you sweetheart makes you want to implode, he has to know what he does to you. what they do to you. 

“oh, here” you leave as soon as you give them your number. suguru’s “we’ll text about planning later” giving you the greenlight to get the hell out of there before you somehow manage to embarrass yourself even further.

-

xxx-xxx-xxxx added you and xxx-xxx-xxxx into a chat

unknown: you free this weekend?

you: who is this???

unknown: aw man :( all that staring in class and you can’t even remember who we are, we’re hurt baby

- 

you stare at the message. okay. so you know who it is. and you also know that they know your grades are horrible because you’ve spent almost every class openly drooling over them. no big deal. it’s not like your sessions will be in a private area.

-

unknown: satoru and i talked, we think it’ll be best to tutor you at our place since there’ll be less distractions there.

-

okay then. you’ll just have to work on your nerves before this weekend. you have time. right now you’ll be using that time to try and get over the fact that satoru called you baby.

the next few days pass by a little too slow for your liking but soon you’re getting ready for your date with the two boys. wait, tutoring session with the two boys. you couldn’t help but dress up a little, adding a matching set underneath your skirt and blouse.

-

satoru: i’m outside, come out whenever you’re ready

you: coming out now! which car is yours?

satoru: you’ll know it when you see it ;)

-

you head out slightly confused but when you see a white corvette flashing its blinkers at you, you understand what satoru meant. before you reach his car, satoru gets out to open the door for you. the small giggle you let out doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 

a wave of confidence runs through your veins as you tell him he’s “quite the gentlemen” when he buckles your seatbelt for you before sitting in the driver's seat himself. his response is a quick wink and then you two are off to their apartment. you try not to stare too hard at him throughout the ride but you can’t help but let yourself indulge in a few glances that lasted longer than they should’ve.

soon enough you two have reached the apartment and satoru parks the car. this time you don’t hide your staring. his effortless moves have you squeezing your thighs together. why is this turning you on??? you have got to be ovulating. 

satoru calls out your name. “you ready?” you blink. “o-oh, yeah i’m ready.” he grins and unbuckles you before sliding out the car to open your door. their apartment is cleaner than you expected, and also way larger than you expected it to be. “you finally back satoru?” you turn around to see suguru in sweatpants and stark contrast to satoru’s shorts. “hi, thanks again for tutoring me” you say. they both let out a soft chuckle and suguru returns the greeting.

they show you to a room that you truly didn’t expect for them to have in their place. there’s a shelf stacked with different books and another bigger one beside it with their trophies. there are two desks but one of them is currently situated with three chairs. you’re deep in thought about how you would love to be bent over the desks as the two boys make you take them over and over and over again.

this time it’s suguru calling your name to draw you out of your daydream. “you can take a seat on the middle chair. do you have anything in specific that you need help understanding?” oh right, you came here to be tutored. “um, everything? well not like everything but maybe the latest subject? i haven’t had the time to actually go over the notes i took.” 

a lie, you didn’t take any notes. your notebook is filled with small doodles and occasionally a sentence from a slide the professor left on the screen for too long. you place your hands in your lap when the two boys take a seat on either side of you. “no need to be nervous, sweetheart. we’re here to help you.” satoru has got to know that him and his stupidly attractive voice aren’t helping you and you want to turn to suguru for help but he’s just as bad. “he’s right, pretty girl. you’ve got to relax, you won’t be able to remember anything when you’re shaking like that.”

to make it even worse, they each place a hand on your bare thighs. satoru rubs his soft fingers up and down while suguru squeezes your thigh gently before using a thumb to make circular motions in a single spot. you can feel your body heating up and it takes everything in you to not squeeze your thighs together because it would make your want need for them way too obvious and quite frankly, you’re still embarrassed they caught you staring.

satoru makes eye contact with suguru, a silent communication between the two of them. he gives your thigh a gentle pat before he starts to speak. “do you work better with rewards, baby?” you turn to look at him. you aren’t sure what he means exactly and you’re feeling a little overstimulated by all the touching, the pet names, and their attention in general. you’re by no means a virgin, though you aren’t too far from it, but for some reason they make you so nervous you can’t think straight. 

suguru says your name in a voice that sounds like it’s reserved for scolding puppies but right now it just turns you on even more than you are. “answer satoru, he’s not big on being ignored” apparently you don’t turn your head fast enough because satoru’s hand moves from your thigh to grasp your face gently, but not too gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “he’s right, baby. i don’t want to be rough with you just yet. i’m gonna ask again and i expect an answer. would you like us to give you rewards?” despite his words being slightly threatening, you bite your lip to hold back a whine. you squeak out a “yes please” and return to suppressing your whines because suguru still has moved his hand further up your skirt, his fingers grazing dangerously close to your soaked slit. 

“good girl. now let's get started” satoru removes his hand from your jaw but suguru only moves his hand back down to your lower thigh, giving you one more squeeze. the tutoring session goes something like this; suguru and satoru take turns explaining different topics covered during your last class. once they’re done, satoru quizzes you. everytime you answer correctly, suguru moves his hand up and satoru praises you. but every time you fail to answer a question correctly or fast enough, suguru slips his hand away and satoru reminds you that “only smart girls get rewards”. 

this method seems to work because you’re starting to answer correctly more often until you’re only answering correctly and suguru’s fingers are grazing your panties. “oh, she’s soaked, satoru. i think this sweet thing deserves a bigger reward. she’s been listening so well” a small whimper leaves your lips and you turn your head to satoru, your eyes begging for something more than some light touches accompanied by a few praises. 

to prove his point even further you really do start to beg. “please satoru, i need it so bad. ‘ve been so good, please” you can tell it works because he immediately coos at you. “d’awh, i think she deserves a reward too, suguru. we should give it to her” and with that satoru leans in, pressing his lips into yours. his soft, pillowy lips against yours make you almost forget suguru’s hands are on your panties.

almost. 

suguru pulls your panties to the side, raking his middle and ring finger through your folds, collecting your slick. he traces them downwards before bringing them back up to circle around your clit once, twice, three times and then he repeats the process. once he’s deemed his fingers wet enough, he slips one in pumping and curling wasting no time before adding in a second one. 

kissing down your neck, satoru rips your blouse open and pushes your bra down. lithe fingers trace around your nipple making you arch into satoru. you let out a breathy moan into satoru’s mouth, followed by more whines when suguru adds a third finger and starts to scissor them to stretch you out. you can feel satoru smirk against your lips when you start to struggle to kiss back. 

satoru removes his mouth from you, drinking in the sight of you. the sweet, shy girl in their class who couldn’t help but keep her eyes off of the two boys. the same girl who struggled to keep eye contact and who was barely vocal when they were present is now writhing in their chair. your back arching into satoru, a silent plea for him to keep touching you. and your hips grinding on suguru’s fingers, begging him to keep going. 

and most importantly, your voice has finally found itself to be heard. your pleas of “can’t, ‘s too much” and “wan’ more, please don’t stop, please” echo throughout the room. satoru takes two of his own fingers and pats them on your lips, a signal for you to open your mouth. you comply, wishing they would keep praising you. as if he can hear your thoughts, satoru mutters a “atta girl” when he slips his fingers into your mouth. 

he lets them hit the back of your throat a few times and when you gag, he pulls them back. not entirely, but just enough so that you’re still drooling on them but aren’t entirely gagging. he moves his fingers in a scissoring motion for some time and then he pulls them out. before you can even think about missing his fingers in your mouth, he moves them down to your clit, rubbing calculated circles. 

suguru moves his fingers faster, curling them upwards till they hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “i think our sweet girls about to cum, satoru” suguru breaks the silence between him and satoru. “i think so too” you can’t tell if it’s the way they’re talking about you as if you weren’t there but you cum the second the two speak, your body shaking as they help you ride it out. suguru shallowly pumping his fingers in while satoru slows his circles on your clit. suguru leans in to give you a kiss, his lips doing most of the work as your body recovers from your mindblowing orgasm. 

you yelp into suguru’s mouth when satoru pats your clit a little too hard. you want to say something but he taps your clit one more time before watching more slick dribble out of your cunt and onto the chair. suguru is the first to speak. his lips trail towards your ear leaving soft kisses in each place he covers. “you did so well for us, sweetheart. how’re you feeling?” as he speaks, satoru wipes the tears from your eyes and rubs comforting circles on your cheek.

your heart throbs at the attention. you understand what suguru is asking; are you still up for more? or are you done for the time being? you bite your lip before you speak.

“m-more, please. want more. want both of you. please.” satoru places a gentle kiss on your lips. “you’re so good for us, baby. a perfect listener. you think you can take us both? you think your tight little hole can fit both of us?” you moan out loud at his words.

“i don’t know, satoru. she might not be able to handle us.” suguru’s teasing you and you know it, but you don’t care. the thought of them leaving you so wet and needy for them may have your cunt clenching on nothing but you think you might die if you don’t feel them stretching you out.

“nonono, please. please don’t. need it so bad. need you two so bad. wan’ your cocks in me, now. don’t care if it hurts” you think you might’ve broken them because now it’s them who can’t wait till you're done speaking. 

suguru stands up, dragging you up with him before he rips your panties off in one go. satoru, now standing behind you, is pushing your skirt as far up as it can go before pulling his dick out of his pants. suguru following his lead. 

they each keep one hand on a hip, keeping you upright. you feel satoru slip his dick between your folds from behind you, coating himself in your slick before pushing the tip into you. “oh, fuck. satoru, you’re so big” you hear suguru groan from in front of you. he’s using the same hand he fingered you with to stroke himself, waiting for you to adjust to satoru. 

satoru slowly pushes all the way in, stopping every inch or so when you let out a whine of discomfort. “breathe, baby. breathe” satoru may think he’s helping but his velvety voice in your ear is only turning you on more. your pussy doing anything but loosening up. after some time, you slowly grind your hips back onto him, letting him know you’re ready for him to move.

he starts with shallow thrusts and soon he’s going all the way back out before slamming his hips forward. your body shakes in their arms. you’re sure if they let go, you’d fall onto the floor. satoru’s pace doesn’t stay that way forever, though. you cry out a “s’toru, mo-move please” when you feel him slow his thrusts until he comes to a complete stop. 

“shhh, baby. suguru needs to feel you too, doesn’t he?” your eyes widen. you recall your words from earlier, you still want them more than anything but a feeling of uncertainty hits you. as if they can feel your unease, satoru nuzzles his nose into your neck while suguru rubs comforting circles into your hip. suguru gives you a kiss, wet and open mouthed. “you’ve been so good for us, yeah? we’ll take care of you” suguru whispers in your ear. his voice makes you clench harder around satoru.

you know satoru felt it because his mouth hasn’t left your neck and you can feel a grin spreading on his face. “we’ll go slow for you, sweetheart. you don’t need to do anything but be good for us. you can do that, right baby?” they wait for your response. though they’re both aching to be inside of you, they want to make sure you feel the same.

the room is silent when you speak. “p-please, wanna’ be your good girl” and they’re off. satoru stays still inside of you, instead moving one arm to wrap around your waist and his other hand to spread your pussy for suguru. “you gotta relax, sweet girl. there’s no way suguru’s gonna fit when you’re clenching down on me like that” suguru chuckles at the other man's words before he starts to squeeze his way in. satoru moves the fingers that were spreading you open to your clit, rubbing circles as suguru continues to push himself inside of you. 

your whines only get louder when they’re both finally inside of you. suguru is the first to speak. “you look so pretty like this. all stretched out on our dicks. i think we should keep her satoru.” satoru hums in agreement. “i think we should too. it’d be so nice to come home to her waiting so patiently for us to fuck her, take care of her” he lowers his voice adding a “and to love her” before you can process his words, satoru pulls all the way out and all the way back in. you let out a borderline pornographic moan and you feel them both twitch at the sound. 

“p-please move” you sniffle. and move they do. when suguru pulls out, satoru pushes in. and when satoru pulls out, suguru pushes in. the room filled with your whines and cries of “‘s too much”, “can’t take it”, and “wan’ more”. they do their best to give you everything you need. satoru uses a hand coated with your slick to make you face him so he can smash his lips against yours. 

he’s rough with his kiss. shoving his tongue down your throat, making you suck on it and pulling it out just so he can nibble on your lips. suguru, on the other hand, has made himself busy with your neck. he leaves bite marks wherever he can, kissing the same area he bit softly as if he was soothing the pain. “ha-harder”

satoru breaks the kiss with a groan. “our girl is so greedy, suguru. should we give her what she wants? i’m not sure i heard a please” suguru, still busy with your neck, grunts softly in feigned disappointment. “i thought we had trained her better than that. maybe we shouldn’t give it to her” you shake your head at their words “no! n-no please. i’m sor-ry, i’ll be good. don’ stop, please”

this seems to satisfy them because they listen. and they listen well. they not only move harder, but somehow deeper too. suguru has one of your legs lifted in the air while satoru keeps you steady at your waist. your moans get louder and louder, a warning that you’re getting close. you know satoru and suguru are aware but you know better than to cum without asking. 

“c-can i? please ‘ve been so good, wanna cum s-so bad” you’re practically sobbing and they can feel themselves throbbing around you. satoru kisses your cheek and says something along the lines of “you can cum, baby” but you aren’t listening because suguru bit that spot on your neck and satoru hit that spot in your cunt and you’re seeing stars when you squirt on them. 

they only get in a few more thrusts before they fill you up with their cum. “holy shit” satoru chuckles “didn’t know you were a squirter, baby” you whine out in embarrassment, wanting to hide your face in your hands but you feel too tired to do anything.  

you whimper when suguru pulls out, followed by satoru. the feeling of being empty being foreign after being stuffed so full. suguru carefully places your leg down, making sure satoru is still holding you up. you’re not sure what he has planned because he has that stupid grin on his face that he and satoru share when they’re about to do something devious. 

when around forty seconds have passed and the only thing that’s happened is satoru leaving wet kisses along your back, you think you’re in the clear but your legs being moved. each one gently placed on the shoulder of a very handsome suguru who is currently on his knees between your legs. you want to protest, tell them you’re still recovering from the last orgasm but suguru presses a kiss to your clit. 

the constant stimulation has your clit protruding out, begging for attention, so how could he not kiss it some more? the sounds from between your legs are no less than obscene. suguru is groaning into your cunt. he kisses, sucks, bites, and you would be a fucking liar to say that it doesn’t feel as good as it hurts. “you have the sweetest pussy, pretty” he moans out between kisses “tastes so good”

satoru thinks he’s going to go insane. he would much rather be between your legs but he knows there’ll be more chances for him to do so in the future. for now, he’ll focus on pressing those kisses you seem to love on your back and neck while using one hand to show each of your tits equal amounts of attention. and also whispering dirty words into your ear that only shove you closer and closer to the edge you’ve been teetering on. 

“does suguru’s tongue feel good, baby? you like being used by us? you wanna come all over his face like a good girl?” you do. you want to be nothing but the best for them. you wish they would never stop praising you. “y-yes, fuck, wanna be your good girl. wan’ to cum so bad, please can i?” you know nothing of pride, you only know suguru and satoru are making you feel so good that you can barely remember your own name.

it’s only when suguru says your name in that rough voice of his before telling you to come that you remember. you cum hard on his face, his mouth never stopping but only slowing down and moving to place gentle kisses on your clit. “you did so well for us, sweetheart” satoru moves his hands up and down your sides to sooth your trembling body. when suguru leaves to grab a washcloth to clean you up, satoru is still whispering comforting praises into your ear. he backs up to sit himself in a chair and tugs you into his lap. “shhh, it’s okay, baby. i got you”

suguru returns with a wet washcloth. “can you open up for me, pretty? jus’ gonna clean you, nothing else” satoru knows your body is capable of moving just yet so he takes your whine as the okay for him to spread you open for his friend. once suguru’s done, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

suguru dresses you in one of his oversized shirts before satoru takes you to his bed. they let you sleep while they clean themselves up before joining you in bed as well. you wake up later that night to two sleeping boys and an ache between your legs. they each are touching you in their own ways, suguru nuzzled into your neck and satoru’s hand wrapped possessively around your waist. you find yourself drifting back into sleep and the next time you wake up, there’s a note on the bedside table.

“we stepped out for a bit but we’ll be back soon with breakfast, baby ;)” 

-

tuesday comes by again once more and this time you’re the only one staying behind. the past three days have been spent “studying” at suguru and satoru’s place and you’re finally ready to hear about your test results from your professor. when he returns your paper, you know there’s only one thing to do.

you text the two boys a picture of your grade on your exam making sure the big 98% written on top of a “nice work!” is clearly shown.

-you: i think i deserve a reward

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