#i was so tempted to get the bad ending just so that he was alive ��️ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

niningtori · 3 months ago

Text

an iron man | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: beomgyu has only ever known how to live function as a rental sexbot. he fucks whoever and whatever comes his way with a forced smile plastered on his face. that is, until you, a self-proclaimed trainwreck, come along.

genre: android!au, sexbot!au, angst, romance, fluff (more than i ever thought i could ever write i fear...), skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

warnings: very brief and vague mentions of beomgyu being forced to engage in sexual acts he does not want with previous clients, skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

smut warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, praise, dacryphilia, sub!gyu

word count: 14.7k (trust i will not be writing this much again if this flops BWNWJSJEJDK)

notes: terrified to post this one because this is probably my favorite thing i've ever written and if it gets a bad reaction i might die :,) also very unsure if this is the best time to post it since it's during kinktober so i'm not sure if the demand is there but i love this work so so much i pray you all like it. if you don't read anything else from me, i hope that you read this bc i rlly care ab it :,) please don't be mean i beg

beomgyu doesn’t know how long he’s been living like this. living is an odd term, too, and it’s not just because “life” is ill-defined for an android, but because to call what he experiences a life feels like a bastardization of the term. his power is turned on at some point, usually late at night, he fucks or gets fucked by somebody he probably doesn’t know, then he does the same shit all over again. so yes, he may be “alive”, but he wouldn't dare to call what he experiences living. living is too precious of a term to be used so cheaply on a sex android who’s made available for rent for the highest bidder of the night.

he’s seen how people live through his scattered vignettes of human life. he only gets them when he’s powered on, but he soaks them up with pleasure because they’re the only thing he’s ever known. some people do it wildly, living unattached to everyone and everything. their lives are not completely dissimilar to his, in a way, except they have a choice in the matter. they have time to find themselves, what their likes and dislikes are, and they get to connect with people in a way he will never have the power to. others, though, live the kind of life he really wants. they live by loving and being loved, knowing and being known. he wonders what it’d be like to know somebody outside of whatever secret deviant sexual pleasures they have. he wonders what it’s like to be known, too, but he guesses you would need to have something for someone to care enough to know about in the first place. he has no such thing.

it’s a night like any other when he’s powered on by a total stranger. he briefly takes in his surroundings and notices that it’s a really nice place, but you wouldn’t be the first rich person to rent him — not by a longshot. next, he takes you in. now, there’s no reason for you to dress up, really. you have no need to tempt him, as he will be able to feign attraction no matter what you look like, but he still finds it odd that you seem to have forgone any effort to appeal to him, if only because most people’s fantasies require them to look and feel sexy; but you don’t look sexy at all. you look like you’ve just gotten home from a long day at work, and honestly? you kind of smell like it, too.

“do you think you could do the dishes for me? i’m exhausted,” you ask with a perfectly-timed yawn. what… ?

he short-circuits for a moment as he tries to think of an appropriate response. he’s never had anyone try to get him to do chores for them, but maybe this is some sort of weird roleplay? maybe you want him to act as a house husband for you before doing the deed, which isn’t necessarily a problem since he’s well-versed in acting, but there’s just one issue.

“i don’t know how,” he tells you honestly.

“you don’t know how to do dishes?” you ask curiously,

“it’s not in my programming,” he replies. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s embarrassed because of the way he hesitates and looks away from you when he says it. he can’t possibly feel that, though, so it must just be your imagination.

“oh… that’s alright. okay, do you know how to clean a room? mine’s kind of dirty,” you try.

“n-no,” he says, and he wishes the earth would just swallow him whole. he’s never failed at living up to expectations, and never so badly, at that. just what kind of fetish is this?

“that’s okay,” you sigh, and he may not fully understand it, but he can sense your disappointment. “well, what can you do?” and the question is not asked maliciously, but with what seems to be genuine wonder. ah. he knows how to answer this one. slowly, he walks up to you and loosens your hair. you look up at him in shock, but he just cups your face, swiping his thumb across your lower lip.

“i can do whatever you want me to, baby,” he whispers alluringly. “just tell me how you like it.” you’re so stunned at his switch in demeanor that you forget how to speak for a moment, but you quickly recollect yourself and pry his hands off of you.

“i don’t want you to do anything,” you insist. “i’m just tired. if you can’t help me clean, that’s alright. you can watch something if you’re bored. i think that’s it. well, goodnight.” beomgyu is malfunctioning at the moment. he thinks the gears in his head might be sparking while he tries to understand this new development. you don’t give him time to process it, though. you just slam your bedroom door shut behind you. he thinks he hears you lock it, too.

genuinely at a loss at the thought that he has nothing and no one to do, he sits himself on your couch. he tries not to make himself too at home at first, just barely making a dent on it and scooting to the very edge of the cushion as to not appear to be too relaxed. what if this is some sort of test? what if you’re actually going to come out soon so you two can fuck? until then, what should he do next? thoughts like this plague him until he accepts the fact that you are actually sleeping. your obnoxiously loud snoring is a dead giveaway, and he finally, finally feels brave enough to fiddle with your remote control.

he scrolls for something to watch. movies and shows have been on as background noise during sex before, so he’s somewhat familiar with them, but he’s never gotten the opportunity to pick for himself or actually pay attention to what's happening on screen. he settles on a romantic movie about a robot who joins human society. the robot falls in love with a human girl, but in the end, the robot has to leave the girl because the town won’t accept him, even after using him. she marries a human man and has children, and eventually grandchildren, too. she still loves the robot even though he’s gone, which he thinks is supposed to make him feel sorry for her, but all he can feel is pity for the robot, who spends the rest of his life alone.

it’s enough to make him cry, which he shouldn’t be able to do in a non-sexual setting, but he does it, anyway. it’s just so unfair to him. the girl is able to live a normal life while the robot is doomed to be alone forever. why? because he was born different? it’s not his fault that he was invented, but he spends the rest of his time on earth paying for the crime of existing in a world not built for him. the more beomgyu thinks about it, the more wronged he feels. he’s outright sobbing by the time you plop down on the couch beside him. he jumps up and straightens his posture while trying in vain to regain his composure.

“yeah, this movie makes me cry, too,” you quietly remark. he’s silent, not because he didn’t hear what you said, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to act after being caught red handed.

“can i ask you something?” you ask in lieu of his lack of a response.

“yes,” he feebly answers.

“why are you crying?” you question with a tilt of your head, but something in him tells him that you already know.

“because the movie made me sad,” he admits after a pause.

“are androids supposed to feel things like that?”

“... no,” he replies after a pause.

“then why can you?”

“i… i don't know. just please don’t say anything to my owners,” he pleads. he knows that if the company that owns him were to find out about this, he’d be scrapped in a heartbeat. or worse, they’d analyze him like a labrat to try to find the anomaly within him. his “life” as a sexbot will be over, and he’d really rather be a box of scraps than live as a case study in a lab somewhere.��

“it’s okay,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you watch him trying not to spiral. “i won’t tell them. it’ll be our secret.” beomgyu has never had a secret to share with anyone before, so he feels an overwhelming amount of excitement at the idea that he will finally have one. his chest feels warm at the thought.

“thank you,” he says with a grateful smile.

“no problem,” you reply with a yawn. “i’m tired, so i’m heading back to bed. i just wanted to get some water. goodnight, for real this time.”

“goodnight,” he murmurs softly. you return his words with a sleepy smile and go back into your room. he finds that he’s smiling even when you leave.

he spends the night consuming as much media as he conceivably can before he has to leave. usually, he'd be powered off after he’s done being used, so he greedily savors every moment he can. who knows if he'll ever get this chance again. when you wake up, you're surprised to see that he's exactly where you left him, still watching the screen intently.

“good morning,” you say while stretching your arms.

“good morning,” he replies.

“are you ready to be returned?” you ask.

“... yes,” he lies.

“okay. i think somebody will be here to pick you up in an hour or so. you hungry?”

“i don't really eat,” he bashfully answers. for some reason, he's embarrassed at the fact that you're treating him like a human while he's unable to fully act like one.

“oh. i guess that makes sense,” you nod.

things are quiet until he’s picked up, but it’s not an awkward silence. you sit next to him on the couch as you wolf down some breakfast and let him watch whatever he pleases. when he eventually hears knocking at your door, he feels an incomprehensible sense of dread.

“i think that's them,” you remark, breaking the silence.

“y-yeah,” he replies.

“well, it was nice to meet you,” you say, reaching out your hand for him. he’s unsure what to do with it. not missing a beat, you gently grab his hand and shake it. he's stunned at the physical contact, and he's still reeling when you let the man from the rental company in. you have a brief conversation with him before he walks towards beomgyu.

“goodbye,” you tell the android with a smile and a little wave.

“... good—” and the man switches him off.

the next time beomgyu is powered on, he’s in your house again. relief floods him when he realizes it. you don’t seem as exhausted as the last time he saw you. when that was, he has no idea, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was just last night because of the fact that he’s so popular he’s rented almost every day.

“hey,” you greet him with a smile. he’s still feeling relieved before he realizes that tonight might be the night where you ask him to have sex with you. maybe you were just tired last night and had no desire to fuck, but he can tell that you’re feeling more energetic tonight.

“i didn’t catch your name,” you add.

“... beomgyu. i’m part of the choi line, but i’m a custom model, so they gave me a name,” he tentatively replies.

“nice,” you nod, and you briefly introduce yourself before asking if he wants to watch a movie.

“watch… a movie?” is this some sort of euphemism for fucking? it wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard of something like this. as mentioned before, some people like movies as background noise.

“yeah, you can pick,” you say, casually plopping down on the couch and patting the cushion next to you. he hesitantly takes your cue, and he’s mentally preparing himself for what comes next before you take a blanket and cocoon yourself in it so tightly, it’d be impossible for him to touch you.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he jolts a bit when he realizes that he’s been staring in disbelief. “oh, are you cold? do you want a blanket, too?”

“‘m fine,” he replies.

“are you sure? the clothes they make you wear look a little thin,” you observe with your nose wrinkled, and he feels impossibly small under your surveying eye. “here, i’ll get you some sweats. i think soobin left some the last time he was here.”

“who’s soobin?” he asks a little too quickly. so quickly, in fact, he doesn’t even have time to process why he even asked.

“my friend. stay here, i’ll grab them for you.”

when you return, you have a long pair of sweatpants in hand and a big t-shirt.

“you can change in the bathroom. it’s down the hallway and to the left, okay?” he nods in response.

he strips his clothes off as best as he can, and it feels like he’s shedding a second skin. when he’s finished undressing, he pulls on the clothes you gave him and stares in the mirror. it’s in his programming to always be mindful of how he looks, but he feels especially self-conscious now that he’s wearing a normal outfit. he fixes up his hair and clears his throat before exiting your (messy) bathroom and making his way back into your living room. he finds you fiddling with your phone before you look up at him.

“took you long enough,” you tease, and he blushes, which stuns you. just how human is this guy?

“s-sorry, i —”

“hey, i’m just kidding. you’re fine. you look pretty good in those clothes — soobin would be jealous,” you chuckle. his ears perk up at the mention of soobin again. is he your boyfriend? he must be. why else would he have clothes at your house? is that why you don't want to sleep with beomgyu? because you have someone already? if that's the case, why rent him at all? but he is not brave enough to ask these questions, so he settles for a soft “thank you” and returns to his spot on the couch.

you toss him the remote and he catches it with ease before unsurely flipping through your streaming services. he finds something that piques his interest and turns to you with an uncertain look before you nod encouragingly. he selects it and lets it play. he doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself sinking further and further into the cushions as it progresses.

it’s a sweet movie — a romantic comedy about an amnesic woman whose memory is wiped clean every morning, but a man falls in love with her, anyway. she never remembers him, so he has to make her fall in love with him in a new way every day. he finds himself smiling throughout it, but a particularly funny scene has him actually laughing for the first time. it’s a squeaky sort of thing, and he has never laughed before, so he’s somewhat surprised as it leaves his throat. he looks to you in trepidation, but you just smile warmly and respond with a soft chuckle of your own. he finds that he looks to you every time a new development occurs, and you always answer encouragingly.

the end of the film surprises him. it’s bittersweet in that she never does get her memory back, but the man makes a video recounting their entire love story for her to watch every time she wakes up. it ends with them living happily together in spite of everything, and it’s enough to make him sob. he turns to you and sees that you’re teary-eyed as well, but you seem to be enjoying his reaction so much that there’s still a grin on your face. after the film ends, you can tell that he has something on his mind.

“what’s wrong? didn’t you like it?” you gently ask.

“i did. i just don’t understand,” he replies timidly.

“don’t understand what?”

“why he would do all of that for her, i guess,” he says.

“because he loves her. when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you always find a way,” you tell him, and the sentiment seems to strike a chord within him.

“even if they’re that different?”

“of course.”

beomgyu spends the following nights with this same routine. he’s switched on, sees you standing in front of him with a smile, gets comfortable, and watches as much media as he possibly can while you two chatter away about every scene. he learns much more from it than he ever did from experience with his previous renters, and he finds himself becoming more and more emotional by the day. you never try to question him or press him to explain any of his feelings, and it just makes him feel even more comfortable with you.

one day, he even feels comfortable enough to ask you a question. the question.

“can i ask you something?”

“of course! what is it?” you reply in earnest. beomgyu has never directly inquired about you.

“why do you rent me? i mean, i know we watch stuff together now, but why rent me in the first place?” and even when he feels exponentially more at ease with you than he ever has in any other context, he’s still nervous when he asks it.

“oh, my friend did it as a joke, i guess,” you shrug. “he thought i needed to get laid or something, but i’m not into stuff like that, so i just thought i’d ask you to help me clean. obviously, that’s what i actually need,” you giggle. what he feels at your words can only be described as disappointment. “stuff like that”? so you’re not into sleeping with sexbots? is it because you find them disgusting? is it because you find him disgusting? he’s not sure what he expected, but this wasn’t it.

“oh. so why don’t you buy a cleaning bot?” he asks softly, and while you are usually pretty perceptive of his emotions, you don’t register the fact that he’s at a loss right now.

“i dunno. my parents were always against that sort of thing. they thought it was wrong, i guess, so i didn’t grow up with them like everyone else did. i didn’t really have an opinion on them until i met you,” you tell him while grinning and lightly nudging him with your elbow. he tries his best to smile because, in theory, your words are really sweet. you see him as more than just another android, so why does he feel like that’s not enough?

the fragile connection you two have made seems even more fragile now. at least, it does to him. you only met each other because of a joke your friend just so happened to make, not because of fate or the divine intervention that he always sees in the movies. maybe in another world, your friend rented a different sexbot. maybe you’d even treat them the same way you treat him. the thought alone makes something ugly burn in his chest.

still, you are oblivious to the internal war raging within beomgyu.

“hey, i’ve got an idea,” you tell him, and he perks up a bit. “have you ever listened to music?”

“not really,” he replies solemnly. people have played it in the background of their sexual escapades, but he hasn’t really gotten the chance to listen the same way humans do. you finally register his crestfallen appearance, but you chalk it up to him feeling like he’s missing out.

“why don’t we listen to some? i can play a bunch of different genres so you can find what you like,” you suggest, and he agrees to it. truthfully, he doesn’t fully understand how music can be better than movies and shows, but he is curious to find out what makes it so special.

and special, it is. he doesn’t like every song you play, he realizes, but that’s only natural given how different they are from each other. he finds himself being drawn to the more emotional and moody ones, but he can’t help but enjoy the way you quietly sing and nod along to the more upbeat tunes.

as you continue to sit together, you begin to fiddle with your hair. you’re scoffing and loosening it for the umpteenth time before you’re about to give up, but beomgyu stops you.

“let me do it,” he says.

“do you know how?”

“i think i can. i’ve been watching you,” he says simply.

“... okay.”

you turn your back to him to give him access to your hair and he scoots closer to you. closer than you’ve ever been. his touch on your head is careful as he gently gathers your hair and begins to braid it. you’re not sure how much time passes because he’s actually quite slow, but it’s relaxing all the same. you find yourself softly humming to the tune of the song playing. the lyrics are a little dark, but you follow along in earnest, and beomgyu thinks he finally understands why people like music so much. for moments like this. he tries to soak up every detail he can, from the way the light hits your frame to the melody you hum, and he wishes this moment could last forever.

but you only have so much hair, so the moment does have to end, eventually. he ties up your hair and you pull out your phone camera to admire his handiwork. admittedly, it’s a lot better than anything you could’ve done. it seems that he’s a fast learner.

“this looks perfect! thanks, beoms,” you say warmly. he’s stunned for a second at the nickname.

“beoms?”

“yeah, like beomgyu. beoms,” you say with a casual shrug, and something in his chest blossoms. “i give all of my friends nicknames.” and something in his chest explodes at the title of “friend”.

“you do?” he asks excitedly.

“yeah. like, i call soobin ‘soobinie’ or ‘soobie’, sometimes,” you giggle, and the bloom of hope in his chest dies with it.

“are you two close?” he asks, even though he knows the answer will probably hurt him.

“very. he’s my best friend,” you answer fondly. oh. you’re beomgyu’s best friend — you’re beomgyu’s only friend, and tentatively at that. the idea that the deep connection he feels with you is even deeper with someone else, at least in your eyes, makes him feel sick. do you let soobin play with your hair? do you hum along to songs you’ve shown him while he does it? do you smile at him after he’s finished and compliment him on his skills? probably, probably, probably. the ugly feeling that was previously completely foreign to him now takes its usual place in his chest, and it makes his stomach hurt so much that if he could vomit, his metaphorical dinner would be all over the floor.

“oh,” is all he can say.

days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, but every time beomgyu awakens, he finds you smiling up at him. this can’t be good for your bank account — he’s quite expensive to rent, after all — but he’s far too afraid to actually bring it up. what if you realize just how much money you’re sinking into him and want to stop renting him? what will he do if you don’t want him anymore? he feels an incomparable sense of dread at the thought.

he prepares to sit on the couch and watch something, listen to music, or even play a video game with you. you two have gotten into them recently, and he’s discovered that he very much enjoys playing with you, even when you’re yelling at him and demanding that he stop letting you win. he can’t help but grin when he thinks about it. you start playing a song, and you do, indeed, invite him to sit on the couch, but you don’t sit down next to him and start babbling away about your day like you usually would.

“do you think you could do me a favor?” you ask.

“what, do you want me to wash your dishes?” he jokes, and you share a laugh before you say your next words, but all laughter and joy is profusely sucked out of him when you say them.

“no, smartass, but can you braid my hair for me? i’m going over to soobin’s tonight, and i want it out of my way.”

“soobin’s?”

“yeah, it’s been a while since i’ve stayed the night, and he said we’re way past due for it,” you tell him, and the world as beomgyu knows it comes crashing down around him.

“you’re staying the night with him?”

“mhm. he’s right, it’s been too long; but don’t worry, i bought a pass so you can play video games online. there’s even a headset so you can talk to people, if you want. maybe you’ll even make some friends,” you say while playfully waggling your eyebrows. beomgyu’s silence is pensive, to say the very least, and you worry that he’s apprehensive of making a friend that isn't you.

“seriously, you might like it. it’ll be good for you to meet more people, honestly. i’m sure it’s driving you crazy to only have me to talk to,” you jokingly add, but to beomgyu, it’s the worst joke he’s ever heard. no, it does not drive him crazy to only talk to you every day. in fact, even though he’s not conscious during the time you spend away from each other, he thinks, deep down, that he still somehow misses you when you’re apart. and no, he does not think he needs to have anyone but you. you are more than enough for him, so how could you ever think he needs more? again, he is taunted by that same strange and implacable feeling he’s been having ever since he met you, yet he can’t quite put his finger on it, even when he nods and tells you that he’ll try making new friends.

but as he brushes out your hair and you sing along to the words:

"i’m glad i didn’t die before i met you

but now i don’t care

i could go anywhere with you

and i’d probably be happy"

he finally understands what that feeling is. that warm, all-consuming feeling. that feeling of comfort, safety, and unconditional understanding. that feeling of infinite curiosity about the other person. that feeling of wanting to known and be known in a way so profound it physically aches.

yes, as he gathers your hair and ever-so-gently twists it in his hands in preparation for you staying the night with a man you clearly prefer over him, the feeling becomes clear as day. love. what he feels for you is love — an emotion he should never be able to even fathom, yet he does.

and it makes him loathe himself to a degree he never thought he was capable of.

he’s so put off by this sentiment, he almost can’t finish the braid because his hands are shaking so much, but somehow, he finishes, anyway.

“are you done?” you ask as you fiddle with your hair and look back at him.

“mhm,” he replies.

“yay! thank you!” you say giddily.

“you’re welcome,” he mumbles. you’re not stupid, so you notice that something is off about him, but you just assume it’s because he’s nervous about being left alone to make new friends. you feel guilty in a certain sense, but it’ll be good for him to branch out and meet new people, so you tuck the feeling away as best as you can before packing your nightly essentials and getting ready to leave.

“i’ll be back tomorrow morning,” you tell him, and he only nods with his lips pursed, which makes your heart feel sour.

“try not to miss me too much,” you tease, but it doesn’t seem to cheer him up in the slightest.

“have fun,” he replies weakly, and your previously sour heart now kind of aches, but you have to do this for him. you can't always be beside him for everything, right? besides, it's only for the night.

you open the door to leave, but before you go, you turn back to him and he senses hesitation in you. before he can question it, you’re opening your arms, and his eyes widen when he realizes you’re inviting him in for a hug. you almost regret doing it as soon as you open them for fear of making him uncomfortable, but he embraces you before you have time to process such feelings. on beomgyu’s end, he has always been wary of touch for obvious reasons, but he gravitates towards your open arms like he was meant to be in them.

he rests his chin on the top of your head for a moment and you spend an unknown length of time just standing with your arms wrapped around each other.

“i’ll miss you,” you admit, and before you can smack yourself for being so dramatic and sentimental over what will ultimately only be one night, you can swear you feel his grip tightening even more around you.

eventually, you break away and look up at him with a smile. you ruffle his hair and promise to see him later, and he answers you with a nod. then, you're leaving and locking the door behind you.

immediately, beomgyu feels a sense of loss he’s never felt before. after all, to experience loss, you must have something worth losing in the first place, and he has never had anything like that. at least, not until you. so he stands at the door for who knows how long, just like a puppy waiting for his owner to get home.

soobin can sense you’re out of it before you even finish crossing through his doorway, and it puts a halt to your typically overdramatic greeting.

“what’s the matter? are you feeling okay?” he questions concernedly as he pulls you in for a hug. you nod before you break apart from him and walk through the threshold.

“y-yeah. it’s just, i don’t know, i guess i just feel bad about leaving beomgyu all by himself,” you tell him as you plop down on his couch.

“the android you’ve been renting?” he asks incredulously. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about that, actually. why’re you renting it so much? i barely even see you anymore. is the sex that good?”

“you know i don’t use androids like that,” you snap in annoyance, partially because he’s calling beomgyu “it”.

“i know, which is why i’m so confused. why rent it in the first place if you’re not getting anything out of it?”

you struggle to answer his question. you promised beomgyu you’d keep his secret, but you trust soobin, and you know he won’t judge him, or worse, report him. besides, it’ll be good to have an unbiased third party weigh in on the situation. with this in mind, you tell him about beomgyu, skipping over some of the more personal details. he’s in disbelief at first and actually thinks you’re just fucking with him, but as you tell him more and more about the time you’ve spent together, his smile falls and his face turns serious.

“so that’s why i feel so guilty about leaving him alone,” you finish with a deep sigh. he’s silent for a few moments before collecting his thoughts.

“god, i can’t believe this is actually happening,” he whispers.

“i know. it’s insane, but it’s true. he’s just so… human. you should've seen the way he looked at me when i told him i was leaving. i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone look so sad before.”

“well, you’re right about him needing to make friends,” he says with a nod, and it validates all of your misgivings about leaving him alone. “but don’t you think you should, i don’t know, think about what all of this means?”

“what do you mean?” you ask, and in that moment, he knows you have no idea about the way beomgyu probably feels about you. he’s not 100% confident in his deductions, but the way you describe how beomgyu acts around you pretty much tells him everything he needs to know.

“i mean, you basically have a completely sentient creature who relies on you for everything. if he’s as human as you say he is, then he can probably feel everything that we do. right now, i’d guess that he feels like you’re all he knows.” and the sneaking sense of guilt that was previously threatening to creep up on you is now completely overwhelming. you’re all he knows. and you left him all alone to fend for himself and make his own friends. yes, he needs to learn how to make connections, but how could you expect him to know how to do that? it took weeks for him to finally seem comfortable around you, so how could he possibly know how to make them on his own? moreover, even though it's nothing to you, you're his entire world. he must feel like you abandoned him.

“i’ve gotta go,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks.

“i–i’ve gotta go home,” you repeat as you hurriedly stand up and hug him goodbye.

“wait! i think you should —”

“love you, bye!” you shout as you book it out of the doorway.

when you return home, you open the door to see beomgyu listlessly staring at the television screen. when he hears you, he turns to look at you with watery eyes. he looks so lost in this moment, and all of your suspicions are confirmed.

“beoms, i am so sorry,” you tell him as you rush over and throw your arms around him.

“for what?” he asks with a gulp as he stays in your embrace, shakily wrapping his arms around your waist.

“i’m sorry for leaving you all by yourself. i thought it was just for one night, so it’d be alright, but you don’t have anyone but me right now; and i realize that it’s unfair for me to expect you to meet other people all on your own when you’ve never had to do it before. if you want friends, i’ll help you, okay? i’ll be there with you as you do it,” you tell him, and you feel his body trembling.

“i-i’m sorry. i know it’s not a big deal, but when you’re not with me, i feel so scared. i… i don’t know how to do anything by myself. i’m s-sorry i need you so much,” he whispers, and your heart breaks.

“don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “how about this: i’ll join you online and we can talk to people together. then, when you’re ready, you can start hanging out with my friends in person, too, okay? we can keep going until you don’t need me anymore.” beomgyu outwardly agrees, which seems to put you at ease, but there’s just one issue: he’ll always need you.

gaming online is actually really fun, but making friends is hard for someone like beomgyu. he’s quiet and a little awkward at first, but after a few nights and with your help, he finally warms up to the people he games with. he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s even able to shit talk with them a little.

“fuckkk, that’s so unfair!” his new friend, kai, wails over the headset.

“it’s not unfair, you just suck,” beomgyu chuckles, and kai whines again. you laugh at their interaction before kai continues.

“how are you so fucking good at this game? you’ve only been playing for a few nights, and you’re already better than me!” he pouts.

“i’m just gifted,” beomgyu boasts.

“very true,” you add, and he beams, but kai’s next words throw him off-kilter.

“whatever. stop asking your girlfriend to argue with me — you two make me sick,” he jokes with his signature maniacal laugh, but the two of you are too stunned to laugh along. you look at each other in sheer embarrassment, and you can see beomgyu’s ears turning bright pink beneath his blond hair. you’re not sure why you feel so mortified, but you do. this is beomgyu, for god’s sake. there’s no earthly way you could ever see him in anything other than a purely platonic way, so why does your heart feel uneasy at the notion? while you’re still too stunned to speak, beomgyu tries to pipe up and respond.

“sh-she’s — we’re not, uh —”

“damn it!” kai yells as his character dies yet again, and any momentum beomgyu previously had to clear up the misunderstanding is killed stone dead in its tracks.

he turns to look at you unsurely, but the awkward moment seems to have passed for you as you laugh at kai’s character’s death. if only he could be as unfazed.

after kai goes offline, you two decide to quit gaming for the night. you turn to beomgyu nervously, and he immediately knows that you’re going to say something serious. he hopes beyond hope that it’s not about what kai said.

“can i ask you something?” and his heart sinks. oh god, you probably caught onto his feelings. he’s not sure he has the confidence to tell the truth, but how could he lie to you?

“y-yes,” he replies, voice a bit unsteady.

“okay, you can say no if you want, but soobin invited us to a get together he’s having pretty soon. it’s not anything too crazy, so there’ll only be a few of us. i think it’ll be a good start for you. maybe you’ll even make some new friends, you know?” he’s silent at your words just out of sheer shock. he’d definitely missed the mark when guessing your intentions.

“it’s okay to say no,” you hurriedly add, “but my friends are really nice, and i’d be with you the entire time. even if you don’t talk to anybody, you can talk to me.”

“okay,” he agrees before he can even really think about it. he guesses he’s just relieved that you still don’t know about his feelings, but part of him aches even still.

“really?” you ask incredulously. “oh my god! i have to tell soobin — he’ll be so excited!” you babble, and his lips curl upwards at how happy you are. he wishes he could always make you happy like this, and it seems that he’d agree to absolutely anything if you were the one asking.

work has been especially taxing today, which is nothing new, but you have this insatiable suspicion that something feels… off as you finish up for the day. as you’re about to head out for the night, you wonder what beomgyu will want to do once you get home. maybe he’ll want to play games with kai, or maybe he’ll want to watch a movie with you. maybe he’ll let you cuddle up to him for warmth, which he’s been very willing to do, lately. the unspoken rule that you two will never touch has become blurry for some reason, but you’re pretty touchy with all of your friends, so it only feels like a matter of course to you.

you’re thinking about all of the potential ways tonight could play out when it hits you: you didn’t reserve beomgyu. you spit out a curse and hurriedly take out your phone to book him, but it’s too late. he’s already assigned to someone for the night. fuck.

when you get home, you’re anxious beyond belief. you haven’t spent a night without beomgyu in months, but more importantly, he hasn’t spent a night without you. you try not to think about how scared he will be when he’s powered on in a stranger’s home. you hope he’s able to just switch back to his initial programming, but somehow, you just know it won’t be that easy. you feel sick with worry when you think about how someone so human will have to involuntarily turn his feelings off and pretend to enjoy something he’s being forced to do — with no compensation, no less. he must think you abandoned him. he must think you don’t care about him. how could you forget to reserve him when he needs you so much? fuck how busy you were with work, his wellbeing should have been your first priority.

so you sit and watch the hours tick by. you try to relax. you try to tell yourself it’s only for one night, and he’s been doing it for years, but something just feels wrong, wrong, wrong. you’re about to try to force yourself to go to sleep so the night ends more quickly when you hear a rapid knocking on your door. it’s strange for someone to call on you so late, indeed, but when you look through your peephole, you see none other than the very boy you’ve been worrying about.

“beomgyu?” you say incredulously when you swing open the door. immediately, he embraces you, and you feel hot tears streaming down your neck as he nuzzles his face into it. you hold him as best as you can as you rub circles into his back and try to shush his cries.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” you tell him, and he whines. you try to break away to get a good look at him, but he just pulls you in even closer, as if you’re his only lifeline in this world, and in a way, you are.

after his breathing slows and his sobs die out, he reluctantly parts from you, so you hold his hand and lead him to your couch. his eyes are swollen and bloodshot while his nose is a bright pink, but he never once takes his eyes off of you for fear of letting you out of his sight. in his mind, you can’t leave as long as he can see you.

“are you alright?” you tentatively ask, hand still holding his and soothingly caressing it in an attempt to calm him down. he goes to nod before stopping himself and shaking his head in the negative. your eyes soften even more at the action.

“do you want to talk about what happened?” you try, and he nods before clearing his throat.

“i, um, i woke up and i was at this woman’s house. she… she wanted me to get undressed, but i didn’t want to, so she started doing it for me.” you wince at his words, but he’s not finished yet.

“she kept touching me, and it was so disgusting i just — i just couldn't stand it, so i ran away and came here. i don’t mean to make your life harder, and i won’t ask for you to stay the night with me anymore, but if you could just let me stay here, i promise i’ll learn how to clean or do anything you want. please, just don’t make me —”

“beomgyu, stop it,” you say softly, but firmly. “you are not making my life harder. you can stay here as much as you want and do whatever you want while you’re here. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for this to happen. i was just so busy with work, and by the time i realized it, somebody had already booked you. i promise you that it’ll never happen again, okay? so you don't have to be afraid. i’m not leaving you, and i won’t let anyone hurt you, either.”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look so relieved before. it looks as though you just saved his life, and to beomgyu, you essentially did. he holds your hand even tighter, as if you’re the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of this planet.

“wait here, i’ll get you some clothes,” you say gently, but as you go to leave, he holds you even tighter. your eyebrow quirks in a silent question at his actions, and he looks sheepish for a moment before saying his next words.

“c-can we just stay like this for a bit? just for a little while? i’m still scared,” he mumbles, and your heart melts.

“of course. come here,” you beckon, and he falls into your arms and rests his head on your shoulder, breathing your scent in as he tries to imprint this moment into his hardware. you stay like that for a while before you finally convince him to change out of his uncomfortable clothes. he reluctantly lets you go, and his eyes follow you everywhere you walk.

that night, you stay up later than usual to spend more time with him. he stays glued to your side and ensures that he’s always touching you in some way, which is endearing in a way you can’t seem to put into words. when you’re about to head to bed for the night, you swear you hear him whimper, but he lets you go, anyway. as you lay your head down and get comfortable under the covers, you hear a timid knocking on your door. you call him in, and his gaze shyly flickers between you and the floor.

“c-can i stay with you tonight? i won’t bother you, i swear. it’s just — i just still feel weird. y-you can say no! i just thought that —”

“come here,” you softly interrupt, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen. he closes the door behind him and shuffles towards you, stopping uncertainly at the edge of the bed in a silent plea for permission to enter it. you feel a weird, warm feeling in your chest when he does it. you scoot over and pat the open space next to you before he gathers enough courage to slide in. you cover him with your blanket, and he stiffly accepts it. you giggle at his awkwardness and cuddle up to him, placing your arms around his waist before thinking better of it. how could you just invade his personal space when he’s clearly traumatized? you go to remove your arms and scoot away before he firmly locks you in place.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, settling himself into your embrace and mindlessly toying with the ends of your hair.

“are you sure?” you ask.

“i’m sure.”

it isn't long before beomgyu hears your breathing slow down, and eventually he hears you begin to snore. he smiles at the sound. he can't really sleep, but he's perfectly content with watching you rest. he continues to play with your hair, and you nuzzle into his touch every so often. he doesn’t want to repeat the events leading up to tonight, but he would do it all over again — any number of times — with a smile on his face if it meant he got to be with you like this again.

the next morning, beomgyu waits for the usual delivery guy from the company to pick him up, but it’s currently way past the usual pickup time. he’s most certainly not complaining, but you don’t seem even remotely fazed by the matter. however, while you’re casually flipping through your streaming catalog literal hours after he’d already be gone, he can’t stop himself from asking:

“um, d-do you know when i’m being picked up?” you pause, and he worries that he may have said the wrong thing before you turn to him.

“do you want to be picked up?” you ask solemnly.

“n-no! of course not. it’s just, you know, i’d usually be gone by now, so i —”

“do you want to stay here? with me, i mean,” you interrupt.

“i… i do,” he replies with a gulp. usually, that’d be all you get from him, but it feels like the perfect opportunity to be honest about his feelings. “i always want to stay with you, but i know i’m expensive, and i don’t want to be a bother.” he looks ashamed as he admits it, but if he had the courage to look in your eyes, he’d note the fondness that lies within them.

“i told you that you’re not a bother to me. i also told you that you could stay here for as long as you want, remember?” and he does, so he nods.

“alright. i meant it when i said it last night, and i mean it now. if you want to be here, you can stay for as long as you’d like. you don't have to worry about your owners anymore, i promise.” and he thinks he’s never seen you as serious as you are now. he wonders what you mean before it dawns on him.

“you… did you buy me?” he asks in disbelief.

“y-yeah. i’m sorry, it sounds so gross when i hear it out loud, but that doesn’t mean that i own you or anything. what i really wanted to buy was your freedom, so you can stay as long as you want, but that also means that you can leave whenever you want, too.”

“i’m so sorry,” he says in a hushed, hurried tone. “i know i'm expensive. i’m really sorry.”

“money is not an object to me,” you dismiss in faux arrogance with a wave of your hand in hopes that it’ll lighten the mood, but beomgyu can’t stop the tears from falling over his waterlines, and you’re afraid your attempt to help him only made him feel more indebted to you. all worry is promptly washed away when you feel him pull you into his arms.

“thank you,” he just barely breathes out. “i don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back, but i’ll try, i swear.”

“you don’t have to do anything for me, beoms. i should’ve done it a lot sooner, but i’m just a little slow, i guess,” you muse, and he chuckles softly into your neck.

sleeping with beomgyu should’ve only happened once, but every night when you say you’re heading to bed, he looks at you with puppy eyes and you find yourself inviting him to come along. each time, he looks so excited that if he had a tail, it would most certainly be wagging. he obediently follows you to your room and settles into the empty space next to you before holding you in his arms as you drift off. he’s even taken to humming the tunes of songs he likes when you struggle to settle down, and his baritone voice lulls you to sleep like a charm every time. he spends his time by just looking at you and trying to reconcile with his new reality. this is real. he gets to spend however many nights he wants next to you, as per your own words. even if you didn’t mean them, he plans to take them seriously. he is perfectly content with spending the rest of his life just sleeping with you, looking at you, being with you.

soobin’s get together is tonight, and you look different than usual. your typical look is very casual, which makes sense because you’re only ever at home when you’re with him, but you are now primped and ready to be seen, and it makes him anxious because you look even more lovable. he knows these people are your friends, so they must’ve seen you dressed up before, but that only makes him all the more uneasy; they know a side of you he is only now seeing, and it makes that same old ugly feeling he's grown so accustomed to sprout in his chest.

when you arrive at soobin’s place, the first thing you do when soobin swings open the door is jump in his arms like you didn’t just see him a week ago. he spins you around with a dimpled grin that’s so sincere, beomgyu feels emotionally decimated by it. you both giggle as you break apart, and the jealousy beomgyu feels brewing within feels unpacifiable.

“is this beomgyu?” soobin asks, grin still very much apparent.

“yes! you’re gonna love him,” you answer giddily.

“it’s nice to meet you,” soobin says warmly while stretching out his hand, which beomgyu awkwardly shakes while he tries to force his lips to curl upwards in what he prays is a believable smile.

“nice to meet you,” he mumbles.

“everyone’s already here, but you’re late as always,” soobin playfully chastises, and you pout in response.

everyone greets you when you walk in, mostly by hugging you and lightheartedly scolding you for not coming out anymore. they’re very clearly bantering with you, but each reproach feels like a knife to beomgyu’s heart. he’s the reason you haven’t seen them in so long.

clueless to it all, you introduce him as your friend to everyone, which only makes him feel worse, somehow. he is just one friend out of many, meanwhile you’re his entire world. you’re far too caught up in the joy of seeing some of your favorite people after so long to notice his dismay, however.

you lead him to soobin’s couch to have a seat with you and one of your friends, taehyun maybe, offers him a drink, to which he awkwardly declines. you quickly follow up with something to the effect of “he isn’t much of a drinker,” and beomgyu nods in affirmation. you try your best to include beomgyu in conversation, but they’re all talking about people and places he doesn't know. all he knows is you, and the world you two built together seems smaller and smaller with every new topic of conversation.

he notices that soobin seems to be eyeing him somewhat strangely, though he tries his best to play it off. he could just attribute it to surface level curiosity, but his intuition tells him it’s much deeper than that. is soobin sizing up his competition? maybe so, but there’s not much to see. beomgyu is handsome, and he knows it, but soobin knows a side of you beomgyu has only ever heard stories about. you’ve told him about your friends and the goings on between you and your coworkers, but it pales in comparison to actually meeting them. he makes an internal note to ask even more questions than he usually does the next time you’re telling him about your day. until then, he sits as close to you as humanly possible and clings onto your arm, which is so second nature to you, you don't even notice that he’s doing it.

soobin, who is usually not the inquisitive type, can’t help but question the dynamic between you and beomgyu. at first, the lingering glances and intimate gestures were innocuous enough to be written off as mere friendliness, but when you whisper something in beomgyu’s ear and he flushes a bright pink, soobin knows he can’t ignore it any longer. he especially can’t ignore it when you turn away from beomgyu and he raises a hand to the ear you just whispered into as if he’s reliving the moment. well, time to test his theory.

soobin slides into the open cushion next to you and begins excitedly chattering about how pretty you look tonight, and he even takes your braided hair into his hands and twirls it between his fingers.

“your hair looks pretty,” he muses.

“beomgyu did it, actually,” you grin, and soobin glances over to said boy, who is currently glaring daggers at him. the look in beomgyu’s eyes is so intense, he almost wants to back off, but he has to get to the bottom of this.

“did he? you know, it’s been a while since you stayed over. wanna have a sleepover tonight? you have some clothes here from last time, and we can cuddle, i know you like that,” he says as innocently as he possibly can.

before you can even reply, beomgyu is slamming his hands on the coffee table. you turn to face him in surprise, and the look on his face is the angriest you’ve ever seen him. his eyes are dark and his nostrils are flared as he heavily breathes. he’s never been angry at all in front of you, actually, so to say you’re taken aback is the understatement of the century.

“beoms? what’s wrong?” you ask concernedly, completely turning away from soobin. your voice is enough to somewhat placate him, but before he can fully calm down, soobin is saying his next words.

“i’m sure he’s fine. beomgyu, you can find your way home tonight on your own, can’t you?” beomgyu is positively seething at this. before you can question him again, he’s gripping your hand so tightly it’s like it’s the only thing keeping him from drowning, so you excuse the both of you and drag him to the bathroom for some privacy.

“are you alright?” you ask, frantically scanning his figure for some sort of sign of pain or discomfort.

“i-i’m fine, i just, uh, i don’t feel good,” he says flatly.

“what’s wrong? is it too much? do we need to go home?” he’s so flustered, he barely registers that you’re calling your house “home”, but he still notices it in spite of everything, and it’s like a balm on his aching heart.

“y-yeah, can we go home? please?” he pleads, and you hurriedly nod.

“of course, just let me say bye to everyone before we leave, okay?” and he wants to say no, but he’s as weak as ever in front of you, so he relents.

that doesn’t stop him from gripping your hand, though, as you say goodbye to everyone. you go to give soobin your usual hug, but beomgyu pulls you back to him even more tightly. you write it off as him not feeling well and just wanting to leave as soon as possible, to which you oblige, and before you know it, you two are scurrying out of soobin’s place like there’s something chasing you.

as you’re driving home, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but it isn’t until you’re walking through your doorway that you check it.

soobie: we need to talk. call me as soon as you get home

you’re worried beyond belief at his serious tone, so you tell beomgyu that you’ve got to make a call before ducking into your bedroom. you don’t shut the door behind you, because why would you?

you quickly call soobin and the line connects after just one ring.

“what’s wrong?” you ask anxiously, and soobin just sighs, which makes you all the more anxious.

“we have to talk about beomgyu.”

“beomgyu? what about him? is something wrong?” you question.

“yeah, i mean, maybe. this might sound crazy, but i think — i know — he likes you.” you’re stunned silly for just a moment before bursting into laughter.

“likes me? what the hell are you talking about?” you dismiss, and you sense his agitation even through the phone.

“i’m serious. i had a feeling before, but tonight just confirmed it. he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment, just trying to process his words, but once your mind somewhat clears, you can’t help but deny, deny, deny.

“you’re wrong. it’s not like that at all. i’m just the first person who’s ever treated him nicely, and i —”

“you’re not listening,” he cuts in irritatedly. “he looked like he wanted to skin me alive tonight. how else do you explain that?”

“soobie,” you sigh. “you’ve got it all wrong. maybe you’re right and maybe he was feeling insecure, but that’s probably because i’m the only person he knows. he most likely just felt like you were stealing my attention away.”

“you’re always so dense about these things, you know?” he groans. “okay, look, i’m not sure how they came about, but i do know that he has feelings for you. maybe it started out as dependence, i’m not sure, but it’s definitely much more than that now.”

“that’s impossible,” you snort, actually feeling a bit impatient now. how could he possibly think that your relationship with beomgyu was anything other than platonic?

“why? because he’s a robot?” oh, that shuts you up. “just think about it. if he were a human, would you still be saying the same thing? like i said before, if he’s as human as you say he is, he can feel the same way we do, and he’s definitely capable of feeling love, too.” you are, again, stunned into silence. suddenly, as if there was a fog that covered your brain before, things that you never really considered become clear to you. the soft touches, the gentleness. sleeping in the same bed and waiting for you to get home. wanting you — needing you — around all the time. the way he plays with your hair. the way he’s so interested in everything you have to say. the clinginess, the dependence. it all makes so much more sense to you.

“i —” you begin, but you just so happen to glance up and see beomgyu right outside of your doorway… looking absolutely devastated.

“i’ve gotta go,” you tell soobin as you hang up, not even bothering to say your usual goodbye.

“beoms, did you hear us?” you ask tentatively, and he flinches a little bit before looking down at the floor and nodding.

you’re unsure of how to navigate this situation from here, but while you’re still trying to figure it out, beomgyu speaks.

“i-i’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly. “i understand if you don’t want me anymore.”

“w-what? no, i —”

“i’m just really sorry,” he says, looking as ashamed as a person ever could. “i know it’s wrong, i know it’s disgusting, but i —”

“beomgyu.”

“but i can’t help it. i wish i could, but i just can’t; and i understand if you want to return me or whatever, but if you could just —”

“beomgyu, stop it,” you interrupt firmly, no room for argument. he stares at you with defeated eyes, and you feel your heart break in two. “i am not disgusted, and i don’t want to return you.” his eyebrows furrow as if he doesn't quite understand, so you continue.

“your feelings are not disgusting to me, don’t ever say that again, okay? please? it makes me sad,” you plead, and he hesitantly nods. “i think it’s normal, actually. you don’t really know anybody else other than me, so of course you’re confused.”

“confused?” he asks incredulously, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“confused,” you nod. “it'll change once you meet more people, i swear.” you try to smile reassuringly, but suddenly, you see tears welling up in beomgyu’s eyes.

“beoms?” you carefully try.

“i don't need to meet more people. i just need you,” he chokes out. “don't tell me i'm confused because i'm not. i-i'd rather you just say you don't want to be with me than tell me that.” your heart clenches at his words, but he continues.

“i just want to be with you, no one else,” he tells you desperately. “i can understand if you don't feel the same way, but i can't stand to hear you say i don’t love you, because i do. i really, really do.” and as if you're dissociating, your mind is bombarded by times where he's shown you this exact sentiment. again, you go back to every intimate moment you two have ever shared. it was easy to just chalk it up to his lack of experience, but when he's telling you that's not the case so earnestly, is it truly possible to still believe it’s nothing? after a while, you decide that it most certainly is not.

the question is: do you feel the same way? you try to put a name to the feelings you have when you’re with him. the trust you have, the understanding. the desire to share everything you know and like with him, no matter how mundane it may seem to others; and consequently, the endearment towards him when you see how eager he is to listen. more than that, the intimacy between you two. how you like waking up to him smiling down at you, and how when something happens, he’s the first one you want to tell, good or bad. how when you listen to new music, you feel excited at the prospect of sharing it with him.

you realize you want to know more about him, the happy things and even the sad things. why he is the way that he is, why he thinks the way he thinks. the peace you feel when he’s running his fingers through your hair and holding you close when you watch the same film for the dozenth time. you try to picture a world where somebody else rented him. a world in which somebody else got to see him as soon as they wake up or as soon as they get home from a particularly grueling day at work, and you finally understand that you wouldn’t like that at all. but why? you’ve only ever thought of him as a friend, right? so why does it matter to you?

your eyes focus on beomgyu again, and you notice how utterly defeated he looks. his heart is on full display for you — and you alone — as tears stream freely down his pretty, doll-like face. are these tears just for you? you think so. is it safe to trust that these feelings he has for you are real? you’re not sure, but you want to. still, there’s something stopping you.

“i think… i think i feel the same way,” you admit, and his previously downtrodden appearance immediately lights up with hope. “but we shouldn’t.” and the words are like lead in your mouth.

“why not?” he asks, clearly distressed. you just gave him an inch, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take a mile. he never in a million years would have thought that you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so he can’t just let them go so easily.

“i just… it’s just not something that i can —”

“is it because i’m an android?” he questions, voice teeming with self-loathing.

“n-no! i mean, we’re just so different,” you tell him, trying to skirt around the topic as best as you possibly can, but he won’t have it.

“whatever it is, i’ll change it. please? i can do anything,” he pleads.

“it’s not like that. i want to, but we can't. i-i'll get older. i won't look the same — i won't be the same,” and it’s embarrassing as hell to admit it out loud, but you mean it. beomgyu’s urgent gaze softens, and he inches closer to you before he’s standing before you. he reaches out to gently cup your face and tenderly pushes your hair behind your ears.

“and what about me?”

“what about you?” you scoff, but you don't pull away from his touch, though your eyes do dart away. “you’ll still be you, and i’ll be old and —”

“what about when my parts start creaking? what about when i don’t remember things like i’m supposed to? you’ll still love me then, right?” he asks, but he already knows, and your eyes snap back to his.

“th-that’s different. you can get repairs. i can’t —”

“then i won’t. you’ll get old and gray and i’ll get rundown and out-of-date. i don’t care what happens, as long as i’m with you.” you’re silent in the wake of his heavy words, so he quickly continues.

“you told me that when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you said you always find a way, and i want to find a way to be with you.” your heart simultaneously warms and aches at this sentiment.

you consider what it would be like to be with him. things would be difficult, yes, but not impossible. maybe you’ll come to regret it someday, but you don’t want to think about that right now. you feel like the luckiest girl in the world when you think of the fact that somebody so beautiful, inside and out, wants to be with you. you don't think you’ve done anything particularly special for him, but he still wants and accepts you for everything that you are and ever will be.

“okay,” you say shakily, and you finally recognize that his hands are still very much cupping your face, fingers lovingly rubbing against your cheeks. he smiles in pure relief at your answer, but he makes no move to break away his hold on you.

you notice how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, and you decide you'll have mercy on him as you lean up to him and press a chaste kiss on his pouty lips before parting. he’s visibly red at the action, and you grin at how flustered he looks. on beomgyu’s end, he feels another bloom of excitement and swell of hope threatening to overcome him. when he looks at the playfulness in your eyes, he smiles even wider.

“i love you,” he whispers affectionately.

you pause before you tell him:

“i love you, too, beoms.”

that night, beomgyu is even clingier than usual. he sticks like gum to your side. when you head to sleep, he eagerly nestles in your bed and holds his arms wide open. you follow his lead and settle into his warm embrace. he sings you one of his favorite songs you’ve ever shown him. the last words you hear before you sink into sleep are:

“to die by your side

is such a heavenly way to die

to die by your side, well

the pleasure, the privilege is mine”

notes pt. 2: sfw work ends here!

you and beomgyu have been “together” for a few weeks now, so the relationship is still very new. surprisingly or not, things seem more or less the same. you guess you never realized just how intimate you two have always been until you put a label on things. the only tangible differences are that instead of just a mere hug when he greets you, he plants kisses all over your face before finding his ways to your lips. and when you’re watching movies or even just talking, he’ll steal a kiss or two. and when you head to bed, you know you can expect him to catch your lips like a man starved before you sleep. things get heated, sometimes, but they never lead to anything besides labored breaths and promises to calm himself down. you take his hesitancy as him wanting to take it slow and treasure your first time together, and you realize he still may be traumatized from the years he spent as a sexbot.

you have apologized to him for telling soobin his secret. you let him know your reasoning for telling him, and he accepted your apology quite graciously. honestly? he was never mad, and he tells you that very clearly, but you still feel somewhat guilty even when he says he understands. your guilt is only absolved when he says he’s thankful you told soobin because things may have never changed without his wise input. he says that he’s grateful to soobin for being a voice of reason in the face of your emotional density. you blushed when he told you this, and apologized for being so slow on the uptake, but he just assured you that he wouldn’t have you any other way, which made you love him even more, somehow.

you’re now about to go to soobin’s again for another get together with your friends. second time’s the charm, you cheekily told him when you brought it up, and he blushed in response. when you two walk through the doorway, everyone cheers. you greet everyone as usual, and beomgyu tries his best to keep his searing jealousy at bay, but his anxiety starts clawing at him as soobin seats himself next to you and asks you how you are.

you giggle and tell him you’re doing well, and he responds by updating you on his tumultuous work life. beomgyu immediately wonders why you haven’t told soobin about your new relationship. are you embarrassed to be seen with him? it’s not like he doesn’t understand, what with him technically being made out of wires and machinery. of course a human like you wouldn’t want to be seen with a metal man like him. you could have the entire world in your hands if you wanted, so what’s the point of playing pretend with a fake like him? maybe, if he were you, he’d be embarrassed, too. he likes to think that maybe you aren’t like that, but at the end of the day, how could you not be? he’s nothing more than a robot masquerading as the real thing.

his anxiety worsens the more in depth your conversation with soobin gets. you try to include him by briefly giving him context about the stories soobin tells, but he can’t stop himself from worrying. again, he feels like soobin is stealing you away from him, and his mood sours.

your other friends try to talk to him, too, but he’s very obviously in a bad mood as he watches you two continue to laugh together. when you finally do turn to beomgyu, you immediately notice how awful he looks.

“beoms? are you alright?” you ask gingerly, but beomgyu’s discomfort is not at all placated even at the term of endearment.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, and you’re genuinely in shock at his change of attitude. soobin looks very concerned, but he excuses himself to get a drink so you two can work it out, though he has an inkling of an idea of what’s triggering beomgyu.

“what’s wrong with you?” you ask concernedly, but he shakes his head sulkily.

“do you wanna go home?” you offer, and he immediately nods. you look torn for a second, but when you see how sad he looks, you know you can’t deny him.

you say your goodbyes to your friends and apologize for leaving early, but everyone says they understand. soobin makes you promise to host the next get together, though, to which you happily agree.

the ride home is mostly silent, but you look over to beomgyu in concern every so often. you grab his hand and squeeze it in a way you hope is comforting, but he doesn’t look any better at all.

when you enter your house, you immediately head to your bedroom, and he follows you in silence. you sit on the bed and pat the space next to you.

“beoms, what’s the matter?” you ask pleadingly as you grab his hands, and his heart, which was previously aching, is (a little) soothed by your concern.

“i-it’s nothing,” he answers, but you can tell that he’s lying because of the way he refuses to make eye contact with you.

“baby, i can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” you say. you’re right, and he knows you’re right, but you’re already doing him the favor of a lifetime just by deigning to be with him. how could he dare to ask for more? he’s ashamed at the thought, but you look so sincere, and he knows in his metaphorical heart that he needs to be able to communicate with you if you two are going to have any shot at a lasting relationship.

“i-i’m just j-jealous,” he sputters.

“oh, baby, why?” you ask.

“because i’m not like you,” he admits after a pause. “i already feel like i’m not good enough for you, so seeing you with someone who actually is makes me feel awful.”

“who? soobin?” and you’re absolutely petrified when he sheepishly nods.

“honey, it’s not like that at all,” you tell him. “we’re just friends, i promise.”

“but it would be so much easier to be with him. you wouldn’t have to be ashamed about telling everyone you’re with an android,” he argues.

“beomgyu, i am not ashamed of you. i just wasn’t sure if you felt comfortable with me telling everyone. if you want me to tell them, i’ll happily do it. you’re so good, how could i ever be embarrassed of you?” his eyes soften.

“do you mean it?” he asks, and you nod.

“do i not show it enough? how much i love you, i mean.” he furiously shakes his head no, but you know it’s a lie. beomgyu himself will admit that he needs more validation than most people, and it’s going to take him a while to ever get over it because of his own issues. that doesn’t mean you can’t try to help him, though, so you brush his cheek with your hands before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

“does this make you feel better?” you ask after you pull away, but he still looks somewhat depressed, so you pull him in again before pressing your lips against his. this time, you swipe your tongue on his pout, which makes him gasp. you tease your tongue against his and electricity thrums between you two when you do it. he reciprocates your enthusiasm immediately, and before long, you’re both sucking and teasing each other until you’re out of breath.

you pull away again and rest your forehead against his.

“better?” you question.

“a little,” he says. “m-maybe a little more?” you grin at his coquettishness, and you go in for another kiss. your tongues tangle, but you don’t stop there. your mouth travels, peppering kisses down his jaw to his sensitive neck. he shivers at the contact when you swipe your tongue over his unmarred skin before lightly sucking. he lets out a broken moan when you do it, and it reverberates throughout your entire body and straight to your core.

“better?” you ask again.

“m-more,” he pants.

“anything you want, baby,” you tease before your lips hungrily capture his. one of your hands snakes its way up his shirt, and he gasps when you roll his hardened nipple between your fingers. beomgyu is more sensitive than most people, as is the nature of his model, so every little touch drives him crazy.

you seem to have noticed this, so when your other hand palms his hardened length through his sweatpants and he almost screams, you have to bite back a giggle.

“d-don’t tease,” he begs, and you’d do anything for beomgyu, really, but not this time.

you palm him even more harshly and his breath catches in his throat.

“more?” you ask, and he fervently nods. you oblige, sliding your hand under his waistband and teasing the sensitive skin around his length. your fingers brush against it every so often, and he involuntarily bucks every time you do.

“c-can i touch you?” he practically implores.

“of course, my love,” you tell him as you remove your devious hands and pull your top off before unclipping your bra.

his mouth waters when he sees you, and you can see him gulp almost comically as his big hands meet your breasts. he copies your movement from earlier, rolling your sensitive buds between his very clearly experienced fingers. you let out a contented sigh at the action, but you won’t let this be all about you, so your hand sneaks it way back down his pants. this time, you grab his girthy cock and give it a harsh tug. his actions stutter, and you smirk devilishly at how fucked out he is when the fun part hasn’t even begun.

you pull at his waistband, and he eagerly tugs his pants and boxers off as soon you do it. he even goes as far as to tear his t-shirt off over his head before he pulls your half-naked body flush against his, falling onto the bed as he desperately kisses you for everything that you’re worth. eventually, he situates himself on top of you, rutting his thick, long cock onto your still clothed thigh. you didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at him before, but you’re able to look down at him now, and you realize his dick is gorgeous. just like every other part of him. it stands tall, blushing profusely at the tip and practically weeping precum. it’s a bit hooked, too, no doubt to elicit the most pleasure out of his clients. your pussy is drenched just thinking about how it’ll feel when it’s inside of you.

he almost rips your bottoms off of you and his mouth waters even more at the sight of your pussy, all slick and glistening in anticipation for what’s to come.

“so gorgeous,” he whispers as he prepares to lay himself between your legs, but you hook them around his waist before he can do so. tonight will be all about him, you’ve decided, so you tug him closer and put one of his pretty nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue on it and occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. your other hand continues to tweak the other one before you alternate between the two, causing him to let out a low, guttural groan.

eventually, he goes in for another kiss, all tongue and teeth and saliva, and you take one of your hands and harshly clench around the base of his throbbing cock.

“is this what you needed, beoms?” you tease, and he nods pathetically as you tug again, harder this time, and let your hands stroke all the way up to his reddened tip. your thumb glides over his slit, and he’s seeing stars.

“i don’t know why you’re so jealous of someone else, my love. you’re so perfect,” you praise, and his ears get even redder, somehow, in spite of the situation you’re both in.

“i — nghh — i don’t like when you’re with him,” he pants, in spite of everything you're doing to him. “only want you with me.”

“oh, baby, you have me,” you coo. “always.” and with that, you begin to feverishly jerk him off with one hand while the other returns to his nipple. his hips buck with every movement, and his eyes are screwed shut. you can tell he’s about to come before you completely take your hands off of him.

“n-no! w-why?” he asks with a crack in his voice, watery eyes shooting open at the sudden action.

“don’t you wanna come in my pussy, instead? it’s warmer and wetter than my hand,” you ask with faux innocence with a tilt of your head, and his previously aggrieved demeanor morphs back into pure lust.

“that’s what i thought,” you giggle as you grab his length and rub it against your slickness. he groans at the feeling, but you don’t immediately take him in, opting to instead roll your hips up, just barely letting his flared head catch against your entrance.

“baby, please,” he whines, and with a smirk, you finally wrap your legs around his waist and line him up with your entrance. you just barely take the tip in, easing it into your pussy, before you force him out again. he gasps raggedly at how tight you are, and he’s wound up so much, he feels like he’s on the brink of exploding. he’s about to take matters into his own hands before you guide him back inside of you, and he feels your walls struggling to accommodate him.

“s-so tight! h-how are you so tight?” he hisses, eyes reddened and face strained, but you’re far too busy with the euphoric feeling of him finally inside of you to reply. he eases in inch after throbbing inch, and it is a snug fit, indeed. he almost wonders if he’ll even fit, but though the stretch burns you, the pleasure is too great to ignore. finally, your walls slightly relax, and he’s able to completely sheath himself in you. you both moan as his tip pulsates against your cervix, and he considerately gives you time to adjust, walls contracting wildly around him, before he attempts to pull out and really begin.

“stop,” you command before he can do so, and his eyes fill with worry at your words.

“w-what’s wrong?” he stutters.

“oh, nothing,” you say between pants. “i just want to see how long you can last.”

“w-what do you —”

and you interrupt him with a kiss. he ravenously reciprocates it, and he can’t help but unconsciously thrust his hips, tapping deliciously on the deepest parts of you, but you prevent him from ever fully pulling out. you tangle one of your hands through his hair and grip it — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him groan into your mouth.

“c-can i move?” he pleads, but you shake your head no.

“why?” he whimpers, but you just smirk as you kiss him again and bite his bottom lip.

he doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, but it’s far too long for his liking. he feels his dick swell, and you still refuse to let him move, but you teasingly scrape your fingers against his balls and it’s all he can do not to come.

“p-please let me move, it hurts,” he cries, tears now flowing from his eyes. for once, sex is all about beomgyu and what feels good to him. he could cry just from the sentiment alone, but his current tears are the direct result of how you’re teasing him.

“and where does it hurt, baby? use your words, i know you can.”

“h-hurts, my c-cock hurts,” he sputters out.

“and would pounding my pussy make you feel better?” you goad, and he whines even louder at the imagery.

“y-yes,” he sobs, and you smile as you say your next words.

“such a good boy. you can move.” and that’s all it takes, really, before he’s pulling out despite your cunt’s attempts to suck him back in, and ramming himself back inside of you again and again.

the curve of his cock hits places previously untouched, and your walls spasm around him at the sensation.

“does it feel good, beoms?”

“s-so good,” he mumbles as drool pools off of his tongue and out of his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “so warm and t-tight.” you clench against your will at his filthy words, and it makes a strangled cry leave his throat.

“pussy so good, baby. your pussy is the b-best,” he babbles, and your lips meet his again before your mouth travels down, sucking a blooming hickey onto his neck. he trembles at the pain that comes with the pleasure, but somehow, he still has the presence of mind to roll his skilled fingers against your clit. just a few touches, and you already feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel every spasm of yours, and it makes his dick twitch inside of you as he wildly fucks you open.

he’s drilling into you so hard, you have to dig your fingernails into the skin of his back to keep yourself grounded. with each thrust, you feel more and more like you’re about to burst.

“gonna come!” you whine.

“do it, baby. c-come all over my cock,” he pleads.

“come inside? want it so bad,” you mewl.

“of course, my angel. a-anything for you,” he tells you as he tenderly brushes your hair out of your sweaty face, and he hammers himself into you at an inhuman pace as you feel the pressure in you crescendo into a searing hot orgasm. you clench even tighter around him while you come, gripping him so forcefully he can barely pull out, so his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated before he rams himself into you one last time and paints your inner walls with his cum.

you two stay like that for a while, just panting and basking in the feeling of closeness you feel. he presses a kiss on your forehead as he relaxes his arms and lays on top of you. you giggle at the intimacy and he finds himself sharing your laughter, your joy.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says between breaths, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing. “i love you.”

“i love you, too, beoms,” you tell him, and you do love him. unconditionally.

notes pt. 3: :,) :,) :,)))))) i'm very sorry if this was disappointing but i hope it was worth it! i would love to hear your thoughts or answer any questions you may have about this fic/universe. feedback is needed to a disgusting degree bc i need validation to survive #sorry

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elihermit · 3 months ago

Note

Evan Buckley x female reader

His girlfriend gets into a car crash and he has to try and save her, he goes to the hospital with her and waits by her bedside for her to wake up. She ends up being paralysed from the waist down and when she wakes up and finds out she struggles to cope with it, she has physical therapy to try to regain her strength but she gets upset so buck tries to comfort her and helps her through it, when they get out of hospital he knows this is their new normal and he is positive and tries to support her. Please include lots of angst and fluff 🥹🫶 thank you xx

eternal sunshine

pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

summary: After a serious car crash, your lower body is paralyzed. You find it very hard to cope with, but Buck is not going to give up on you. Can you accept it?

word count: 2,4k

author’s note: thanks to an anon for this request, that’s a very special fic indeed, I hope you like it!

p.s. requests are open🫧

“(Y/N), I need you to stay awake. Please try for me, darling.” — you can hear Hen's voice, but it sounds like an echo. It's hard for you to stay conscious, you're gathering all your strength not to fall asleep, even though it sounds very tempting.

“Hen, I don’t feel my legs.” — panic rises in your throat, you feel sick. “Where’s Buck?”

Buck didn't have a shift today, but you were glad that familiar faces came to your rescue. You could trust them and not be afraid if something went wrong.

“We already called him, (Y/N), he’s on his way.” — at the same time, they took you out of that damn car and put you on a stretcher. You still couldn't feel your legs, but honestly, you couldn't feel your whole body. You were so afraid that fear paralyzed you. It’s probably normal.

You were carried to the ambulance, you felt that a couple more minutes and you would pass out. But you need to at least wait for Buck, he'll be so worried if he finds you unconscious.

“(Y/N)!” — you heard Buck's worried voice and felt his touch on your arm. He made it.

“Hey baby, I’m oka-“ — you couldn't finish the sentence, fatigue and fear took over and you blacked out.

You open your eyes already in the hospital. The bright light blinds your eyes and makes your head hurt even more. You didn't know how long you were lying like that, but your body was very numb.

“Hi, my love, welcome back.” — you hear Buck’s voice and turn your head in his direction. He's smiling at you, but his red and puffy eyes said he was crying.

You smile back at him and take his hand. You're just glad that it's finally over and you can recover. You close your eyes for a couple of seconds and exhale. You got out of this alive.

You open your eyes and the smile leaves your lips. You try to move your legs, but nothing works, you don't feel the whole lower part of your body. Panic engulfs your lungs and you start breathing faster.

“Buck, I can’t move my legs.” — your voice breaks and tears fill your eyes. You knew it was a bad sign when you were still at the scene of the accident.

“Shh, baby, you’re fine, breathe with me.” — Buck looks at you with a smile and tries to calm you down.

“I don’t need to breathe, tell me what’s going on.”

He looks at you and goes silent. He had hundreds of scenarios in his head about how he would tell you about it, but seeing how scared and confused you are, he just can't pronounce these words. He doesn't want to disappoint you.

But you didn't need to hear any words, everything was written on his face and it hurt more than any physical pain. A cry came out of your mouth. A terrible cry that turned into a scream. All the pain and all the resentment against yourself for getting in the car that damn day was reflected in this crying. Your whole body was shaking from how much you were crying. You were screaming. Buck pulled you into his arms and just held you. He's never seen you so lost and devastated, but he kept saying you weren't alone.

“Buck, what am I going to do? What are we going to do?” — you were able to tell between sobs.

You felt like you were suffocating and it was all becoming hysterical. Nothing will be the same as before. You'll be a burden, you won't be able to give Buck what you could have given him if you hadn't been paralyzed. Your life will be limited.

“We’re gonna fight, baby. And we will go through this as we have gone through all the difficulties before, okay?” — you shook your head in disagreement and turned away from him.

You can't look into Buck's eyes. You cannot accept that you will change not only your life, but also his. You would like to say that you are ready to fight, but you are not. You weren't ready for this and you don't know when you'll be ready.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” — he spoke softly and gently turned your head so that you could look at him. “Our best solution is physical therapy. You have every chance to gain your strength and get back on your feet. I've already talked to the doctors, just trust me.”

“But it can take years. I don't want you to waste your years like this.” — it's true, you'd rather let him go than drag him along, you'll be completely dependent on him.

“My years will be wasted if you're not by my side. Not for one second did I think to leave you in this. This is our fight.” — Buck reaches for your lips and leaves the most tender kiss. There is so much care and love in this kiss that you have no choice but to believe him.

4 months later

Your life consists of a hospital and constant physical therapy sessions. You're tired and exhausted, but you've never been the type to give up quickly.

When you felt that you were going off the path and starting to move in the opposite direction, Buck was there to take your hand and put you back on the right path. He was always smiling, supportive, and proud of your little victories more than you are. For you, these were not victories, but reminders that there is still a lot of work ahead.

Today was another physical therapy session and you finally convinced Buck that you'd be fine without him. He did not miss a single session and because of this he could take fewer shifts at work. You knew that he loves his job and that's literally what energizes him better than any coffee, so today you sent him to work.

But Maddie was with you today, Buck couldn't leave you all alone, even though the doctors at the hospital became your family.

Everything was going well, you did the usual exercises, your therapist gave you a massage of the lower extremities between exercises, then you switched to special simulators.

“Look how good you’re doing, your progress is wonderful.” — you heard Maddie behind your back and froze.

It triggered something inside you. All 4 months you tried to be strong, not to show how desperate you are on dark evenings. You didn't want to be pitied, you wanted to be treated without much distinction.

But everyone behaved around you as if you needed to be coddled. They think they're helping you, but it just reminds you of your condition every time.

And you don't see any fucking progress. What are you doing that is so amazing? You don't run, you don't dance, you don't even walk, you just take little clumsy steps. How dare they call it progress.

“Okay, that’s all for today.” — you still had 20 minutes of the session left, but you didn't feel like finishing it.

“Why? Are you in any pain?” — your therapist asked with a concerned look and stood in front of you.

“No, I just don’t want to do it anymore, so don’t push me.” — you said it and clenched your jaw. You could feel anger filling your body and you wanted to get back to your room before you started snapping at everyone.

You heard the door open and saw Buck. What the hell is he doing here? He's supposed to be at work, but instead he's back here and he's going to babysit you.

“How’s my baby doing?” — Buck squatted down to be on the same level with you and gave you the sweetest smile.

“What are you doing here?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You were so annoyed that you needed to calm down. The last thing you wanted to do was take all your anger out on Buck. He doesn't deserve it, he's the only one who didn't treat you very differently when you got paralyzed.

“I canceled my shift because I couldn't miss your session. I know you said you'd be fine, but I just couldn't.” — he took your hand, kissed your knuckles and looked at you with a loving look.

“We've already finished, help me get to my room.”

When you got to your room, Buck helped you get on the bed. You loved having Buck with you in the evenings because he filled you with that sense of security and confidence. When he had night shifts, it was the most depressing time of your day because you were alone with your thoughts.

“So why did you finish earlier today? I thought you still had 20 minutes of your session when I came.” — lying down on the bed next to you, Buck asked you.

“I didn’t feel like continuing.” — you put your head on his chest and started drawing with your fingers some random stuff on his arm. You always did this when you had a lot of thoughts in your head, but you couldn't formulate them into sentences in any way.

“Why baby? Is something bothering you? You know you can always tell me.” — he’s so sweet, that’s why you don’t deserve him.

“A lot is bothering me, Buck. The expressions on people's faces when they come to me, how everyone tells me about progress and how I've been your burden for 4 months, but you can't admit it.”

You felt tears forming in your eyes. Anger was replaced by sadness, which tore you apart from the inside. It's a feeling of helplessness and complete lack of interest in this fight. You wanted to give up everything, to be alone so that no one else would waste their time on you.

“I can’t admit something that isn’t true, (Y/N). You survived and it's not a burden, but a blessing. I thank the universe for every day with you.” — he pulled you closer to him. How he would like to take away all the pain that's inside you. Buck knew what was going on in your head, so he was always there to reassure you.

“Sometimes I think it would be better if I died than to drag you through something you don't have to go through.” — you whispered it so quietly that you didn't know if Buck had heard. You weren't even sure that you heard your own voice.

Buck's heart broke at those words. You've never been so vulnerable with him, usually you go through even the most difficult events with a big smile and an open heart. But this accident took away a piece of you. You were once cheerful, but now you are completely broken.

“I didn't doubt us for a second. I don't want to spend the rest of my life with someone else, it's always been you.” — Buck put his fingers under your chin and lifted your head so you could look at him. “I know that you don't see progress and it's hard for you to accept that it's moving so slowly. Do you know why you don't see progress? Because every day you are in your body and you don't see yourself from the outside. But I see you. And I see all your efforts and you're doing such a good job, baby.”

“It doesn't feel like enough.”

“But you’re enough in every fucking way. I still see those (y/e/c) eyes that I fell in love with, I still see that smile that immediately makes my day better and I still see that woman I want to call my wife one day.” — Buck kisses your forehead.

“Even when I’m like this?” — you don't know why you're still doubting it, you don't want to lose Buck, but you need these words from him to be sure that you're not dragging him down and he really wants it.

“Like what? An absolutely normal human being? Nothing changed for me and my feelings are still the same too.” — you kiss him. For the first time in 4 months, you felt normal and you fucking loved it.

“Now baby, we will be home in a week, I’m sure familiar walls are going to make you feel better.” — and he kissed you one more time.

A week later, you were at home, your therapist said that you were ready for this and now you will travel to sessions from your home. You don’t need to live in a hospital now. Honestly, you were excited, you were homesick, and you wanted to be in an environment that always made you feel comfortable and safe.

Buck opened the doors to your shared house and said with a smirk:

“Welcome back, babygirl.”

The next thing you saw were your friends, who were joyfully welcoming you back.

“Here’s my girl, finally I will be able to come here on my days off and talk with a smart person.” — Hen had a big smile on her face and hugged you tightly.

“Ouch, I thought I was your one and only, Hen.” — Chim put his hand over his heart as if he had been stabbed. “But seriously, Jee missed her Aunt (Y/N), she’s excited to be babysitted by her favorite person.”

You loved this little girl, so you were always happy to spend time with her when Chim and Maddie were busy.

“Yeah, honestly, I will be back tomorrow, we need to bring back our barbecue parties, I'm craving your signature ribs.” — Eddie made the chef’s kiss.

“I thought I was making the best food, but Eddie hasn't stopped talking about these ribs for 4 months.” — Bobby laughed and came up to you. “Welcome back, (Y/N), we missed you.” — he gave you that fatherly hug that you loved so much.

You looked at Buck and for the first time smiled so sincerely that your cheeks started to hurt. You knew that the path would be long and difficult, but you will definitely cope with it next to your loved ones. A lot has changed, but at the same time nothing has changed, you can still enjoy all the joys that have become a part of you with each of your friends.

Buck came up to you and kissed you. Tears of joy poured from your eyes, right now you realize that you have the strength to cope with these and your relationship with Buck has become even stronger and more sensual.

“I think I can get used to this.” — you said into Buck’s lips. “I love you, thank you for being by my side.”

“Forever and always, I love you.”

One more kiss and this is your new normal.

#911 abc #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 imagine #911 x reader #evan buck buckely #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley #eddie diaz #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz x you

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hurlingdown · 3 months ago

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Please 🍶 anon. I’m a married man 👉💍

Though that does give me so many good ideas..

Pretending to be Muzan’s husband, a slayer finding you both in the cities so you have to press him against the wall and kiss him breathless to keep undercover. One thing leads to another and you’re fucking him in both his female and male form. He is humiliated with the noises he’s making and the way his body is trembling in your hold, he’s almost tempted to kill you.. but then you give him the most earth shattering orgasm and suddenly you’re his right hand man. Fucking him in every room of the infinity castle, sucking him off against the tree in the middle of an abandoned path, eating him out bent over against a well in the middle of a town during the night.

He even slips up and calls you his husband to one of the upper moons.

Toji getting married for money.. unhappy but not on the streets. His fat, rich husband dragging him to a fancy party - he’s bored out of his mind but he’ll do anything for a bag, and then he feels eyes on the back of his head - a cursed spirit under the guise of a tall, handsome businessman, watching him with burning insatiable need.

Toji’s done a lot of fucked up things for money, but none of them felt this good. Back arching as the curse fucks him deep and hard, his stupid husband calling his name as he gets fucked in the bathroom stall. Another fat wad of cash shoved between his tits to answer him, calling out that he’s fine and he’ll be out in a minute as your second set of hands begins to stroke and prod at his already stuffed hole.

Maybe big bad husband Crocodile finding no other option to discipline Buggy, calling you in - his prized bodyguard - to fuck some manners into the clown. Grabbing a hold of his bottom half as Mihawk grabs his head, forcing him to look as you and Crocodile kiss atop his decapitated body, your cock sinking inside him slowly.

Or even being Caesar Clowns ‘Work husband’ - a title he gave you and pretended everyone else gave it to you and he was disgusted by the prospect, though he never once stopped using it - you’re his assistant, bringing him snacks and drinks, getting files and viles.

One day bringing him a magenta vile labelled ‘dangerous’ ‘do not drink’ ‘do not inhale’, you’re oh so careful with this stupid little bottle when you’re tripped - Caesars tendril of smoke whisping back into his cloud coat. But instead of the vile landing on you like he had planned, it lands straight into his big mouth, draining the contents as his face turns bright red. Not even a minute later he’s leaking and begging you on his hands and knees that he needs your babies in him, he needs your dick inside of him and for you to breed him like livestock. Fucking little creep was trying to roofie you, well now you had all the means for some revenge.

Anyway, the bunny Zoro fic was fucking delicious. I need that bunny boy to come back whining for reader to cuddle and snuggle and fuck him stupid again.

Love you Hurlers.

- 🐉

Btw, have you watched My Hero? I have been trying to find someone to talk about All Might with. The way they have him in this newest episode has my dick drippinggg 😫😫

MUZAN AND TOJI??? WHAT A GOOD DAY TO BE ALIVE. just finished reading another banger thirst in my inbox and then i'm placed face to face with this. i seriously love you all.

no kidding. sugar baby toji is the singular best take on his character in the world of fanfics, and reader being a curse fits so well, i'm in awe. and caesar clown and aphrodisiacs mix so well, holy fucking shit. i'm going to be super busy after this month ends.

and yeah, i've watched mha. :) i'm not caught up with the latest two seasons, but i'm familiar with the lore up to s5. go ahead and rant about all might!!! thank you for the obscenely delicious thirsts!!!

#✧ shooting stars.#🐉 anon

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oh-no-its-bird · 6 months ago

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Body swap through time Kakashi and Tobirama at like, ages 12/13ish

Kakashi wakes up as Senju Tobirama at the height of the Uchiha/Senju conflicts

Tobirama wakes up as Kakashi in the lead up to the Kyuubi incident

They're actually alarmingly similar in skill level and personality, so they're able to get away with the switch on a surface level, even to those who know them well. But problems very quickly arise when it comes to fighting or anything that requires knowledge of history

""Tobirama"" taking to the field with a totally different skill set and jutsus than he's ever used before (Izuna is taken so off guard, it gets bad, fast)

""Kakashi"" suddenly does not seem to respond to any ANBU signals or codes, and where as before he was a shoe in for becoming an ANBU captain he suddenly seems to be fucking up at every other opportunity. You'd think the guy WANTS to lose his job with how suddenly awful at it he is, but he's Kakashi. There is no world where that kid fucks anything up on purpose

They're both definatley in a "holy shit I can NOT tell anyone ab this" position— Kakashi would probably be fr killed as an imposter, and while Tobirama would probably be ok (especially since Minato would be in charge of his detainment n stuff) he doesn't know that?? As far as he's aware, he is in enemy territory and will act accordingly.

Kakashi doesn't know how tf to interact with Tajima or Hashirama, but especially Tajima. He probably uses the wrong forms of address for people bc Tobirama uses more old fashioned honorifics than Kakashi is used to (Anija/Chichuie vs Nii-san/Otou-san)

Kakashi refusing to kill Uchiha bc like, village loyalty fuck you. Also just in general he probably has feelings ab killing anyone with a sharingan on multiple levels. But not just not killing them but going out of his way to help— these aren't his Uchiha, yeah, but it definatley fucks him up to see ANY uchiha die when all his life Uchiha = konoha = his people

Oooo, Kakashi instinctivley channeling chakra through Tobirama's eye after a solid couple years of getting used to the sharingan, possibly accidentally doing,,, something there. Idk what tho but SOMETHING

Meanwhile Tobirama is in that stupid fucking village of his brothers (that he will not shut up about, especially at that specific age) and its???? Real??????? It worked?????????? Huh.

He's surrounded by Uchiha and can't find any Senju (Tsunade just left the village rip Tsunade) but if he investigates it looks like the Senju died out naturally? Impossible, it has to be some kind of Uchiha plot—!

Hes also struggling to come to terms with there being a STOLEN SHARINGAN IN HIS FUCKING EYE !!!!!!!! Made extra super fucked up by the difference in intense hatred and taboo of bloodline theft in modern/warring era (with it being even more taboo in the warring states, like THE ultimate evil to any shinobi)

Maybe he, as Kakashi, is supposed to go to like special Uchiha class where they teach him ab the Uchiha n stuff bc of the eye, and Tobirama is sitting there eating all this shit UP (enemy intel!!!) But also, like, lowkey brainwashed kid brought up to do nothing but kill this one specific group of people, literally being forced to at least pretend to embrace their culture. He's in such a unique position to learn from and about them, and it'll probably end with him being some kind of sympathetic.

It helps that in modern Konoha, where the Uchiha may be considered overly traditional/religious, that's actually just Tobirama's normal. So there's also this added layer of "being around the Uchiha feels the closest to home / least strange than being around literally anyone else" which just pisses him off even more tbh

I'm tempted to say that somehow Rin is still alive just so I can have that one specific Rin and Kakashi queerplatonic codependent relationship from my other post, and then Rin being the one to finally notice that Kakashi isn't Kakashi anymore

Both Tobirama and Kakashi kind of piecing together the life stories of each other, immersed in eachothers histories and paths without ever directly interacting even once. Constant wonderings ab what the other boy was like / might do here, and if they're really so similar that no one has noticed the switch and all those implications (bc on one hand, that's good!! But on the other hand uhh— has anyone at home noticed...? Bc if not, fucking ow??? But also like, probably for the best tbh.)

#birds fic talk #naruto #naruto au #senju tobirama #tobirama senju #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #kakashi #tobirama #time travel

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thekissofaphrodite · 1 year ago

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Can you do a smut part 2 for “Waterloo” where clarisse gets really jealous and tells reader that if she breaks up with her boyfriend she will ✨reward✨ reader so reader breaks up with her boyfriend after some contemplating. When clarisse found out that reader actually broke up with him she drags reader somewhere and smut pursues.

THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED IT??!??! HOLYSHII

Take a chance with me

Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader

PART 2 OF WATERLOO

Summary: After the incident in the bathrooms, Clarisse decided she had enough of your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend.

Warnings: (Light) SMUT. Cursing and cheating, misogynists (Remind me if i missed one!)

Author's note: THIS TOOK KINDA LONG SINCE THIS IS A COLLABORATION WITH MY BESTFRIEND, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS! (i added a little twist in the end)

Collab with -🍵 <33

It was another painful day with your boyfriend, Keith. Camp Half-Blood was still in its normal route, Daily Practices, Bonfire singalongs, Games, But there's someone who you can't stop thinking about.

Clarisse

Her chapped lips moving in sync with your soft ones while your lipstick smudged. It was all tempting.

But now here you are, With you boyfriend's gang, trying not to cringe every time they made a bad joke, You could only stare at Clarisse from afar, while she trained with her siblings, Yelling at them at the same time.

I love charlie, But you aren't mine.

"How 'bout you, Y/n? why're you here? shouldn't you supposed to be in tea parties making friendship bracelets and painting your nails?" Asked logan, One of Keith's friends. Then, all of them started laughing, You looked at your boyfriend, trying to spot any signs of empathy, But he, himself laughed along with his friends.

That bitch.

Then you snapped.

"The only thing that you should be doing right now is to keep that pretty little mouth shut" They walked towards you, Your boyfriend, Keith had the same look they had, Rage. You wondered for a second, Why was he looking at you like that? Why was he siding with the people who wronged you?

"How about you? Logan? Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on your Godly parent since you haven't been claimed yet?" You raised a brow at him while looking stern, "I'm certain any God would be embarrassed to have you as their son. Hence being unclaimed for almost two years straight" Your lips curled into a small smirk as you watched his eyes widened in fury.

The gang then stood up and looked at you, eyes fuming with anger as if it could eat you alive. You never meant it, You even felt sorry for the poor boy, But you couldn't help it, They were like this every time you were with them, Is it so bad to stand up for yourself?

You stepped back, carefully analyzing their faces, keeping an eye for any upcoming blows or attacks, As they slowly walked towards you, You bumped into someone.

She held her head high, towering over you even though you were only two inch shorter than her. Seeing Clarisse, you felt relief wash over you, internally sighing, You let your guard down a bit, but not entirely.

Shit. You thought. Your mind panicked thinking that you got cornered by them and on instinct you immediately thought of using your charm speak, trying to find an escape route. Yet determined to fight against them you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the amount of people you're about to fight.

As you were trying to find the right words to use against them, You felt a strong body behind you, you quickly turned around and saw none other than Clarisse La Rue. Her usual intimidating demeanour still plastered on her face as she glared at the group of boys.

"Is anything the matter?" She asked, Her eyes darting from you to the group of boys.

"None of your damn business, La Rue. Let us do our thing" One of the boys, Yuan, said.

" By 'thing' you mean terrorizing MY 'friend' her to death?" Hearing those words you refrain to sneak a glance at Clarisse, As if she didn't just fucked you inside the camp bathroom days ago.

Someone scoffed, It was Keith. Looking at Clarisse with a judgeful look.

"She's MY girlfriend, La Rue. Therefore my property." He said with a boastful look. "Who are you to stick your nose around our business? You're just an outsider in this.. —" Registering Clarisse's words, he sent a scowling look towards you, Forgetting the current situation he turned around to face you fully. "L/n." There was it again. The use of your surname and that warning tone he uses whenever you two argue.

You loathed moments like this. Every argument you had with him you always felt belittled while trying to fight for your rights, but it always ends up with Keith shifting the blame to you every.single.damn.time. "What? Levine." You answered firmly, But this time, You aren't backing down this war of words.

Your expression changed, Your eyes says it all, But you kept your head high. When Clarisse was about to defend you, you quickly stretched out your arm to refrain her from doing anything rash. "You've got the nerve to say that when YOU'RE the one who's following them around, doing EVERY SINGLE THING that they asked for!"

Keith then sneered at you, He was never used to you talking back, But here you are, standing proudly, ready to defend yourself. But of course, he bites back. "Friends? really? Impossible, You know your mother and her father had relations, Long story short, Fucking. Plus, look at La Rue, Compared to her, You're just an attention seeking lapdog"

At that moment, Clarisse was ready to pierce her spear into your shitty boyfriend's head, Thinking about it.. the sight of him with his head pierced pooling with blood made her quite satisfied.

Keith's expression changed, He knew what was gonna happened, That's why he stepped up and approached you, Trying to hold your hand.

"I'm sorry baby" He whispered,as he got a hold of your hands. "You know I didn't mean to insult you like that, I love you Y/n, you know that right baby? I love you so much Y/n". Clarisse raised her dark brows, Looking at you, waiting for your response.

"Okay...I forgive you.." You whispered, Your breathing became normal and you didn't know why, You didn't know why you always give in his sugar coated lies but you couldn't refuse his touch and those doe eyes of his. You could've easily be more mad at him but you knew better than adding fuel to the fire when a lot of people are watching.

Not long after hearing your response, Keith then smiled 'sweetly' as he hugged you. Pressing his nose against your soft hair as he inhaled your sweet scent.

Clarisse's POV

Clarisse stood there awkwardly, Watching you with careful eyes wondering, Why the fuck you forgave him and why the the fuck were you still willing to be with that sick bastard.

I clutched my spear in hand, whilst watching Y/n from afar, Already with her pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. It had been a week since that incident in the mess hall happened, I wondered why she would submit easily to his will, Just a simple apology wouldn't make the cut.

Then, I saw her kiss her boyfriend's lips before getting up, the sight of keith's lips touching her was enough to make me gag. I wanted to talk to you, shooting one last glance at my half siblings, I slipped away and followed Y/n.

Y/n was heading towards the Amphitheatre, I suppose she was there to meet her friends, But before she could even reach the steps, I pulled her aside near the armory, When her back hit the wall, I slammed the door shut and opened the small light switch.

She was about to scream, But as soon as the light illuminated the room and revealed me, She closed her mouth and sighed.

"Clarisse..What—" Before she could even answer i cupped her cheeks and looked into her eyes, Her brows furrowed, Her eyes darting to my eyes and lips.

Then, I kissed her, Not because of passion, Because i was mad at her, Because she was still with the boy either of us hated, Mad at her for kissing him every stupid arguments when she was supposed to be mine. I kissed her hoping that this is the final time I get to kiss her in the shadows. "Break up with him." I said to her in a whisper as I pulled away from the kiss, her eyes widened in shock, lips quivering nervously or was it excitement?

I waited eagerly for her response, Imagining all of the things we could do together without her boyfriend sticking his nose into our business, wanting her back while she's still in my arms. My trance was broken when I saw her face deplete in a disagreeing expression, I immediately pecked her lips before whispering in her ear. "Because if you do, I might just give you a special reward in return"

I winked at her, My arms still gripping her waist, "What kind of reward?" She asked, Her eyes beaming with hope. I then caressed her cheeks "You'll have to find out"

That sentence made her think for a moment, I watched her carefully, Praying to the Gods that she will agree, So that I can finally hold her hand and kiss her right in front of everyone. Loudly and Proudly.

After a moment, I was rewarded with the sight of her nodding in agreement, "Yeah, I'll do it" I smiled, so widely that my cheeks hurt, But I couldn't care less, She also smiled, Making my heart melt as i felt her lips touch mine.

It was now the next day, the day after that talk you had with Clarisse in the armor room and the day you'll finally dump your shitty ass boyfriend. Making you way through out the camp you walk towards cabin 9, opening the door you welcomed yourself into your boyfriend's- well soon to be ex boyfriend's cabin. As you were about to call out his name you heard a noise, "What if someone sees us, Honey?" You heard a female voice say — It was between a moan and a gasp.

You walk into the room more careful not to disturb their "love making", you cleared your throat. "Excuse me?" you said in an uninterested tone, you watch the two quickly pull away from each other, Keith even pushed the girl away, making her yelp as her body hit the cold ground.

You peaked through the small corner that seperated you and— well, Keith and and his lover. The girl that Keith was kissing sat on top of the counter you onced sat, Her hands roaming around your soon to be ex's body, Followed by his groan. "Then let them see my love, let them see how much we love each other" Keith said to his lover while letting out a small breathy chuckle.

At first you wanted to back down from all of this and break down in your cabin but then you remembered Clarisse's words.. 'Break up with him. Because if you do, I might just give you a special reward in return'. That's when you realize you're not going to lose anything except a little bit of face and reputation,but you'll be free from your shitty boyfriend's manipulation, you'll be free from the toxicity of this relationship, you'll finally be with Clarisse.

"What was that for?!" She yelled, her hair disheveled, But keith ignored her, Stuttering and trying to find right words to explain what you just walked into.

"Sweethea-"

Before he could even explain, You slapped him, Fast and Sharp, He tumbled lightly, But thanks to his muscular body, he managed to keep his balance. Keith clenched his jaw.

"Save it, Keith. I don't wanna hear excuses coming from your mouth that once touched mine! You're disgusting"

You glared at the girl, ready to attack her, but your instinct stopped you, You looked at them with red eyes one last time before leaving. You didn't care if they started kissing again, You didn't care if they talked shit about you, All you cared about is that you're free.

After storming out of the hephaestus cabin, Your first thought was Clarisse, There was no more plotting on how to conduct your affair without him seeing, for the Gods see everything.

You then ran around camp, trying to spot your lover for you had missed her so dearly, craving her touch every second that passes by.

Then, You noticed every camper huddled into small groups, heading towards the camp fire, the ares cabin slowly emptying itself, But Clarisse was nowhere to be found, You felt disappointed but there was a little hope inside you, That's why you walked towards her cabin, You could've sworn you saw her silhouette, Peaking, You saw her sitting on the edge of her bed.

She looked- Nervous...? But her face changed when she saw you, The Ares girl stood up and ran towards you.

"Well?" She asked breathily, Waiting for the response that can change your lives.

"We're over, Him and I" Clarisse felt like a big heavy boulder has been lifted up her shoulders, She then proceeded to cup your cheeks, Her eyes glistening with love.

"Good, He doesn't deserve you" She whispered before kissing you, Pushing you into her bed, You groaned and ran your fingers through her messy curls as she bit your lower lip. You let out a small moan before feeling her palms going in your inner thighs, She pushed you, until you felt your legs touch her bed, She laid you down, straddling you. Clarisse pulled away, taking the matters into her own hands, she undressed you herself, revealing your red bra, It lifted your breasts, That made her smile, watching it rise up and down.

You then tugged on her shirt, Desperate to see her, Clarisse smiled and undressed herself, Her bra was a black one, with laces, But it didn't held your breasts up, It seems like her bra was merely a decoration.

It all then happened so fast, Clarisse's sweaty body pressed against yours as you two moaned, Legs intertwined, moaning each other's names. Her peppering your neck with hickeys mercilessly while her legs rubbed between your thighs creating unimaginable frictions, Her fingers inside you, Curling themselves. Clarisse watched you carefully, gasping and moaning gripping her sheets for dear life, She didn't care if her fresh sheets were stained, as long as it came from you.

Clarisse pressed her lips against your red ones, Gripping the back of neck, pressing you closer to her, she whispered "He doesn't love you like I do, Honey.." She then proceeded to kiss you, trailing her lips down to your breasts.

You two were so lost in eachother you didn't even noticed it, An invisible golden net dropped down the ceiling, You screamed as Clarisse fought against the net, But it was so strong and thin, No matter how hard Clarisse looked, She couldn't even see it. You and Clarisse both thrashed and fought against the metal, Until a shadow emerged from the doorway.

Keith.

He looked quite broken, seeing the scene before him, his face said it all, He had not want to believe it, and it hurt him...To the core.

For a second, Clarisse almost felt sorry for the wrench...Almost. But then his face hardened and he burst into a fury. He cursed obscenities to you, And then called out into everyone to see the shameful scene. And in their hoards, they came running. Clarisse turned to you and shielded you as best she can from their prying eyes. Courses of laughter ran out around us and The Hephaestus Boy looked satisfied.

He called out mocking words, and threatening to keep you and Clarisse naked and trapped for all eternity as a punishment.

But Clarisse held her head high and spoke;

"If i had a choice, There is no place i'd rather be...Trapped with the love of my life? What a punishment indeed..." Clarisse mocked him, Then all of the Demigods started laughing...But this time, at the little fool, Keith. And he shrunk in on himself, he turned red in embarrassment.

No one knew that you and keith had broken up, That's why you and clarisse were the hot gossip.

The Hephaestus boy stormed out, as the fit of laughter became louder, dragging with him the net that had trapped you two, But Clarisse couldn't care less, She demanded the door to be shut and be alone with you, so the campers did left.

As Selene crossed the skies with her silver chariot, You laid with Clarisse and dozed of, Still bare from the activities you guys had done.

And when Helios crossed the skies in the morning, Clarisse wrapped her arms around you and inhaled your scent, Knowing that you're hers...Loudly and Proudly.

A/N: HOLYSHI THIS TOOK SO LONG. I ADDED A LITTLE TWIST SINCE I WANNA MAKE THE 'The history book on the shelf, is always repeating itself' ACCURATE! WHATCHA THINK ABOUT IT? SORRY THIS TOOK LONG! <33 I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS!

-🍵

#xy/n #clarisse la rue x reader #clarrise pjo #clarisse la rue #percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn #pjo tv show #waterloo

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coff33andb00ks · 7 months ago

Text

Poison - LN

Hopeless, Part 3 {1 - Hopeless} {2 - Luxury}

Lando Norris x fem!reader / reader x Charles Leclerc) summary: perfect couldn't keep this love alive, we were always meant to say goodbye songs: already gone by sleeping at last word count: 5414 warnings: angst, reader says things she shouldn't, angst, lando says worse things, angst, charles is a bad fiance, alcohol use, oscar remains the only truly decent person in this series, angst, mentions of sexual situations (not explicit), oh and angst (not a happy ending) a.n.: I've really enjoyed writing this little series. thank you all for being as obsessed with heartbroken lando as I am <3 note: this picks up immediately after the ending of the first part {Hopeless}

You can't bring yourself to read Lando's texts. You're still in shock yourself, the last twelve hours a whirlwind that still has you spinning. So you leave that message thread untouched, and when he calls you for the tenth time you send it to voicemail, knowing you won't listen to it.

The one you listened to first thing this morning left an ache in your heart you're sure will never go away.

Is it true? You… A shaky breath, like he was fighting tears. You can't. What about – call me. Please.

You can't call him. You can't even read his texts, you don't know if you'll ever be able to speak to him. Your phone buzzes and you look at the voicemail notification, turning your phone facedown on the nightstand. Not now. You need to catch up with everything that's happened.

Behind you Charles groans and you squeeze your eyes shut as his arm tightens around you. He nuzzles the back of your head, humming while he presses kisses to your shoulder.

"Good morning," he murmurs.

You murmur it back to him, watching his hand slide down your arm to clasp yours. He lifts it, the morning sunlight catching the diamond on your finger. You're engaged. You still can't believe it. How had you gone from arguing in the garage to this? The night rewinds in your mind while Charles whispers sweet words.

The argument. Why? He'd said he'd wanted to spend the summer break in St. Tropez. After promising you over and over he would spend it with your family back in the States. St. Tropez was just a couple hours from Monaco, he could go there anytime, you rarely got to see your family. But it was his summer break, his money, his choice. Four words had burned on your tongue but you'd held them back, finally storming off to cool down.

Lando would take me.

Because of course he would. It wasn't a secret between you that he'd do everything within his power to make you happy. And you'd stood in the chilly night air, tempted to ask him to come with you to Cali for break, because you knew how much he loved LA. Then Charles had found you and…

Said all the right things.

Apologized. Validated your feelings. He'd forgotten, he was sorry, he would cancel his plans of course, the two of you would spend a lovely two weeks in California. He was so sorry, please, he would make it right.

And you'd forgiven him. As you always did.

He starts to pull away from you now, and you know it's time to get up and get ready for race day. The hotel room is a ridiculous mess, clothes from last night all over the floor, tipped over candles, scattered roses. You inwardly cringe, nodding when Charles suggests leaving a large tip for housekeeping. You tidy up a little while he's in the shower, because you can't not do it.

The ring feels heavy on your hand and you stop gathering the discarded clothes to stare at it. It's beautiful, if a little on the gaudy side, a large diamond solitaire set in platinum, diamonds all around.

"I know I have made mistakes, mon amour. But you have stood by my side and made me a better man. Please, say you'll stay by my side forever?"

It had all been too much. The roses, the candles, your favorite wine, the adoration in his eyes. You'd said yes, knowing you couldn't take the pain of saying no. And you couldn't take it back. It was too late.

Late night calls to his family in Monaco, FaceTiming with your sister and mom. Candlelit photos posted to social media.

You're going to marry Charles.

It's supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life but you feel like your world is turned upside down. You're supposed to be over the moon, already planning the wedding that you've had in mind since you were a little girl.

"We'll have the wedding of your dreams, chérie."

"What about your dream wedding?"

"My dream was you."

He'd said the right things.

You shower, standing under the hot water to ease the slight aches from the night before. He'd been more passionate than ever before, driving you over the edge countless times, twisting and bending your body with his, near constantly moaning his love for you.

There's a crowd of fans outside the hotel and you blink in surprise when they begin screaming their congratulations, still unused to the attention even after being with him for over a year. You smile and stay at his side while he signs a few things, wondering if you look as shell-shocked as you feel.

Leclerc's camera shy girlfriend, they call you online. Apparently you're goals, and you wonder what they would think if they knew the truth.

At the track it's even crazier, and you're reminded that he was called the grid's most eligible bachelor when you first began dating. How'd you pin him down, y/n?

You wish you knew.

By the time you reach the motorhome you never want to hear the word congratulations again. You stop outside, letting Leo down so he can do his business, freezing when you spot a McLaren uniform.

It's Oscar. You breathe a sigh of relief, nodding when Charles kisses your cheek and says he has to go chat with Max.

"C'mon, Leo," you encourage while the puppy sniffs the ground.

"Y/n."

You look up, smiling faintly as Oscar approaches. "Hey."

He looks at you, then at your left hand, slowly lifting his eyes to your face again. "Big night, yeah?"

"Yeah." Your cheeks hurt from your forced smile. "I guess it's a shock to everyone."

"Eh… You're right," he says. Squatting down to pet Leo, he stays down, watching the puppy. "Have you seen Lando?"

"I think Oscar suspects."

It's mumbled between heated kisses in the club bathroom. Lando moans, head falling back when your hands slip inside his jeans. "No he doesn't."

"He keeps looking at us." The heavy bass vibrates the door you're pressed against, and his hands push at your dress.

"Everyone's looking at you tonight."

Your protest to that dies on a moan because he's inside you and you forget Oscar exists.

"Not today," you tell him. Finally Leo pees in the tiny scrap of grass he found and you bend to pick him up.

"Have you talked to him?" Oscar asks softly.

"Is he missing?"

Oscar sighs, pushing upright. "He's in the garage."

You glance in that direction, even though you can't see the McLaren garage from where you are. Sighing, you hold Leo close, arms aching to hold someone else. Then, like he knows you're looking, you hear your phone start to vibrate in your purse. You don't have to look to know it's Lando.

"Are you happy?"

Your head slowly turns and you hold your breath as you look at Oscar. "What?"

"Your engagement."

You part your lips to tell him yes. To push the forced smile back into place and play the part of ecstatically happy fiancée to the Charles Leclerc. But all you can do is look at him while your phone stops buzzing. You don't know why you can pretend for everyone else, but not for Oscar.

He sighs, obviously reading the answer on your face. Giving his head a little shake, he folds his arms over his chest.

"I didn't—" You stop, not wanting to say the words out loud. You can't.

He tips his head to one side. "Didn't what."

Didn't mean to hurt Lando. Didn't mean to fall in love with him. Didn't mean to ruin your life. Didn't mean to make such a mess of everything. You blink, the past few months rushing through your mind.

"He deserves the truth, y/n." He says the words softly, and you don't get to ask which he before he turns and walks away.

Ferrari is ecstatic. Good press is good press, and apparently Charles getting engaged is great press. They want photos, a quick interview for their social media. They want you front and center in the garage, and the PR person encourages you to kiss Charles before he gets into his car.

You watch from inside the garage, feeling as though you're more on display than usual, a camera always cutting to you. Charles wins and you're forced to finally see Lando, who gets p2, because it would be weird if you didn't go out to congratulate your fiancé. During the chaos he turns to you and you're frozen, staring into his eyes.

He's smiling but there's heartbreak in his eyes. And you want to do whatever it takes to send it as far from as possible.

Someone bumps into him and he catches himself before he stumbles into you, his lips mouthing your name. Despite the noise around you, you can hear his pained sigh and then he's gone, eyes on you until he's swallowed up by the cameras.

The Monaco anthem. Charles beaming as he looks down at you from the podium. Champagne. He's so happy you can't help but smile.

Whenever your eyes stray to Lando next to him your smile dies.

The alcohol isn't doing its job. Lando downs another drink, heart beating to the same rapid beat of the song playing, and he tries to part the crowd with his mind, thoughts jumbled but he knows what he wants to see.

You.

The dancing, drinking bodies part and his desperate eyes finally land on you. Champagne has been flowing steadily since you and Charles walked in. The it couple.

He wish he could vomit, but all he can muster is a grimace, perfectly timed with a kiss between the happy couple. Taking a drink, he leans against the wall, head and heart pounding as he wills the alcohol to do what it's supposed to and numb everything. Instead it's only enhanced every bit of the pain and torture that's been in him since the first unanswered text.

"Mate."

It's Osc. He reaches out, grabbing his teammate's shoulder. "Osc!" He's happy to see him. Osc knows. Osc understands. Good old Oscar. "Sorry for calling you a sponge cat."

"Fuck, how much have you had?" Oscar asks.

"Don't worry 'bout me." He lifts his glass to take a sip, whining when it never reaches his mouth. Watching it, it occurs to him that Oscar took it from him. "Hey…"

"C'mon."

"Can we get me another drink? Some muppet stole mine," he says, leaning against his friend as he's led away.

"Sure, mate," Oscar yells above the music.

"Yay." Slinging an arm around him, Lando barely notices where they're going. He is pretty sure the bar is in the other direction… But Oscar knows best. "You're my best mate, mate, ya know that?"

Oscar patts his back. "Yeah."

"Thanks." Yay, a best mate. "Didn't mean it when I said you was a pain in my fuckin' ass, mate. Said it with love."

Oscar sighs so loudly Lando hears it over the music. "I know."

He blinks and they're outside. The air feels weird in his lungs and he coughs, swaying a little as he tries to catch himself on the back of the building. "Jesus."

"Do you wanna go?" Oscar asks.

He doesn't know. "But she's here." He's still not numb and he realizes there's not enough drinks in the world to deaden the pain. "She's here, Osc."

"I know." There's sympathy in his voice.

"Why'd she do it?" His voice cracks and he tries to breathe, tries to stop the tears but they're already burning his eyes. He pushes the heels of his palms against his face. "She loves me."

"Lando…"

"We n-never said it but we like, couldn't yeah? But I know she does. She told me." It doesn't sound right but he can't care right now, too busy trying to keep the tears from falling. "I love us."

"Us?"

"It's how we say it. Because we can't say it."

Need it. This. Us. Love it. This. Us.

"I love her, Osc." The last word breaks on a sob and he presses his hands tightly to his eyes but there's no stopping the tears. "Wasn't supposed to. Know that. But how can I not love her? Even before we had sex I loved her."

"Oh, mate." It's sad and understanding and there's a gentle hand on his shoulder.

And it all comes pouring out. A bit mixed up but he knows Oscar's smart enough to put it in the right order. How he had a little crush but liked being your friend. The feelings grew but he never dreamed – okay, sometimes he'd dreamed, he wasn't a fucking saint – you felt the same. How he truly never expected for those dreams to become reality or how lifechanging it would be. And while he tells it he lets the tears fall because trying to stop them is pointless.

"She's everything," he gasps, bracing his hands on his knees to keep from spinning with the world around him.

"I know, I know," Oscar says gently.

"I gotta go. Can… Can't watch them be so happy." And he laughs through the tears. "I want her happy but I can't see it."

"C'mon, we'll go."

He blinks, sways, and he's in his hotel room. A bottle of water appears in his hands and he stares at it then slowly lifts his head. "Osc."

"It's alright, drink it." His voice is warbles and Lando shakes his head to make sense of what's happening.

"She's gonna marry him," he whispers.

"Not right now, yeah? Drink your water."

"Why's it hurt so much," he mumbles after sipping the water. "Love's s'posed to be the best thing."

"It can be," Oscar says. "But sometimes it hurts."

"It's why I stayed away from it for so long. Didn't wanna get hurt." He leans his head back, feels the softness of the pillow. "But…"

"But you fell."

"Yeah," he whispers. "Dived right in and was over my head 'fore I knew it was happening. And… This time it hurts. A lot."

Oscar hums and Lando reaches out, slapping his arm.

"Thanks Osc."

"Anytime, Lando."

He's silent, and just when Oscar is moving to turn off the lights he speaks again. "You think they'll get married in Monaco?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"She wants a beach wedding. There's a spot near her parents'… Like a look over place?" Still clutching the empty water bottle, he gestures with his hand. "Showed me pictures once. Pretty place."

"Yeah?" Oscar turns off the lights and returns to the chair by the bed.

"Sunset. She wants it at sunset. With her niece as flower girl. Doesn't want anything big or fancy. Just people she loves who love her."

"Sounds nice."

"And a honeymoon in Ireland. It's where her nan's from, and she loves it. County Waterford. That's why she loves that crystal thing I got her for her birthday."

"What'd you get her?"

"A vase. Cuz she loves the crystal. And flowers."

Your coworkers are over the moon. A wedding! So exciting! Ah, young love! Have you picked out a date? Color scheme? Where will it be?

No, but you're thinking next spring. Blush pink and sage green. You're looking at different places.

Yes, you're so excited. Still hasn't set in that you're engaged. Oh of course you've never been happier. You're so in love.

You hate yourself for having become an expert in lying. The venue has already been reserved. Charles flew your mom out, and your dress is being made . It's easy to just let everyone else do the planning for you, because it's not your dream wedding.

Not that you've spoken to him. You haven't seen him since the club the night after your engagement. And then, only for a split second. You've opted to stay at home, lying to Charles and saying you were doing wedding planning.

No one needs to know that you spend race weekends in front of your laptop, hugging your knees and watching every scrap of footage you can of Lando. Just to check on him. Because you still can't bring yourself to return his calls and texts. They don't come as often now, and he no longer leaves you voicemails, but you haven't been able to tap his name on your phone.

And you're too much of a fucking coward to show up at a race and see him in person.

He looks okay. A little tired, and maybe you're the only one that notices his smile doesn't reach his eyes. Maybe not. Maybe others can tell that he's a little more subdued in post-race interviews. Or maybe not.

"And are you looking forward to the break?" the interviewer asks.

He smiles. "Yeah… Hoping to spend some time alone. Get out of my head for a bit, yeah?"

"Anywhere special?"

"Nah, just away from everything. A quiet beach or something." He shrugs in that slightly self-conscious way that always makes you want to hold him.

He walks off and you drain the last of your wine, closing the laptop and dragging a hand over your face. You have to finish packing for the trip back home. Snatching out your earbuds, you reach for your phone. Open your messages.

Stare at Lando's name and open the thread. It'll be tomorrow before Charles gets home, you can spend the night crying over texts.

-Were you gonna tell me? -he's cheated on you since day one why would you marry him -does he make you happy? -if he makes you happy I'll be happy for you -tell me he makes you happy -please y/n -talk to me

Those were from six weeks ago. For four weeks it was more of the same. Until…

-I miss you -miss your smile. and your laugh. and that cute little snort that you hate but I think it's beautiful. -miss your hugs. they always make me feel like I'm safe -I just miss you -I miss you dancing in my living room and pretending not to notice when I steal cupcakes. -I even miss your fucking sushi.

Your eyes well with tears. You miss him, too. You miss his hyena laugh and how he'd forget the simplest of words when explaining something. You miss his hugs, how you always felt like nothing could affect you as long as you were in his arms. You miss the dancing, spinning and bouncing until you were breathless and dizzy. You even miss his fucking chicken nuggets.

-Will you come to Spa? -Just wanna see you again. -Guess you're not coming. -Hope you're doing ok. He told Osc you're going back home for break. I know you're excited. Cali girl. -I wish I knew I could see you over break. -Call me when you can -there's so much I never got to say -that I cant put in a text -I miss us

You stare at that last text, sent five minutes before the start of the race, and you let out a sob. And before you can stop yourself you're composing a text. You delete the words and start over several times, finally closing your messages with a frustrated groan. Your finger hovers over the call button, and you punch it, taking a deep breath before you tap Lando's name on the favorites list, where it's been since he called you his bestie.

It rings once. And you realize he's probably busy, probably in another interview or—

"Hello?" He sounds panicked. Out of breath. Like he can't believe it's you.

"Lando," you whisper.

"God – fuck, hang on—" There's rustling and you can hear others speaking in the background. "Yeah, I know, it's an emergency," he says in a rush to someone and you muffle a sob, because now you're crying you can't stop. You hear him saying something about having to take this, he's sorry. "You still there?"

"Y-yeah."

"I'm – hang on, I gotta get somewhere quiet."

You can imagine him sprinting away from the crowd, avoiding eye contact so no one tries to talk to him. Putting it on speaker, you set the phone down and hug your knees to your chest while you listen to the rustling and heavy breaths. Next to you Leo whines softly, leaning against you and you reach to absently pet him.

"Y/n."

"I'm here," you sniffle.

"Are you—"

"I'm sorry."

He's panting, and you hear his shaky breath. "Are you ok?"

No. "Y-yeah."

"Why?" he whispers. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was all so sudden, Lando." A flimsy excuse. You could have easily texted him that night.

"I had to find out from fucking Instagram. Half the world knew before I did." There's a thud, and you wonder if he's punched the wall or slammed his head against it.

"I'm sorry," you say again because it's all you can say. "I was in shock, I guess. He posted the picture before I even called my mom."

"Are you happy?" he asks after a moment, just as you're beginning to think he's not going to say anything else.

You don't answer right away. "I—"

"I love you. Never thought I could love like I love you. Thought I loved but it was just…bullshit before you. It was fucked up and you were never mine, but I needed you. I've never not needed you. I still can't fold a fucking shirt proper. Y-you were everything and I know I was stupid to think we could make it, but I never wanted anything more than us." He's rambling, breathless, and you can hear the pain and desperation in his voice.

You press your face to your knees, shoulders shaking. "Lan—"

"But it's not gonna happen is it?" he asks and his voice breaks, shattering your heart. "You're gonna marry him. And I'm… I'm gonna have to smile and be happy for you even though I'm nothing."

"You're my friend," you sob.

"Friend." It sounds like the vilest curse word. "Friend? Tell me one friend who knows how your pussy tastes."

"Lando, please." You know you deserve it, but it hurts.

"I let you into my soul," he murmurs. "I'm supposed to just be your friend again?"

You can't answer him, because you know you can't ask that of him.

"I can't, y/n." There's a tremor in his voice and the shattered pieces of your heart crack. "I can't go back. I… I can't pretend we never happened and go back to just game talk and dancing and baking. I… I only want you to be happy, but I can't do that."

"I know," you whimper.

"You were everything," he whispers. "You still are."

"I loved us," you say softly.

"I needed us. But us…was always doomed wasn't it?"

"I suppose so." Sniffling, you lift your head, shakily tapping to ignore Charles's incoming call.

"Are you happy?"

Despite everything, you can't lie to him. You can lie to Charles. Your mom. Even your grandmother, whose said time and time again she doesn't like Charles. But you'll never be able to lie to Lando. "No."

There's silence, then he lets out a pained sound. "Don't marry him, y/n."

Charles doesn't notice your mood when he gets home. He's riding high off another win, talking excitedly about planned improvements for next year and how he's actually got the chance to be champion this year. He's so goddamned happy you can't help but smile a little, knowing all too well how downtrodden he's been over his career in the past. There's relaxation to be had now, though, and his first day of break is spent on his yacht, sunning and swimming and he's still so happy.

The next day you fly home, and despite the jet lag you're bouncing because it's so good to be back home. Charles has been here twice now but still you point out landmarks from your childhood and you can tell he's faking his enthusiasm. He loves America, he's always said because it created you, but you know he doesn't like it. He can take it in small doses. You push away the worry that by the end of your trip he'll be tense and irritable.

There are days at the beach, three nights up in the mountains, the weekend in Vegas. With each day that passes you tell yourself you can do this. You still hurt. You still miss Lando, who hasn't texted or called since the night of Spa. But it gets a little easier, and as you sit in your hotel room watching the sunrise over the Strip you realize you almost feel happy.

Charles's phone dings and you step away from the window to switch it to silent. He groans in his sleep and you smile, watching him push his face deeper into the pillow. Glancing at the phone screen, you shrug.

You don't recognize the name. You can't remember ever meeting a Cassidy or Charles mentioning her. Pushing away the doubt, you switch the phone to silent, about to set it on the nightstand when it buzzes with another message from her.

It might be someone from Ferrari. You chew on your lip, finally unlocking the phone and opening the message thread.

-miss u 💞

You barely see the text, your eyes instead on the nude photo that was sent just before. You don't know her. Scrolling up, you exhale harshly as your eyes scan the back-and-forth messages, ranging from a simple miss u to it's not fair chérie, I wish we could run away together. Interspersed are photos of her and him, and you grip the phone tighter, remembering his insistence that neither of you send nudes.

Yet he's apparently had no problem sending Cassidy pictures of his dick. Or receiving pictures of her. There are even videos and you can't stop yourself from dropping onto the couch, scrolling further up, needing to know how long it had been going on.

-marrying her won't change a thing, chérie

By the time he wakes you've gotten to the start of their messages. All the way back in November. It had been mostly innocent at first, but you'd been revolted to see photos of him in your mom's house, in your old bedroom, at Christmas, when he hadn't so much as wanted to kiss you with tongue because it was rude.

"Bonjour, chérie," he greets you as he stretches.

You say nothing, twisting the heavy, gaudy ring around your finger. His phone lies in your lap and you know he's looking for it when he looks to the nightstand.

"We go to the Big Bear today, yes?"

You stay silent, swallowing hard. You know you have no right to be angry – after all, hadn't you done the same with Lando? But you are. Because you and Lando had evolved from friends to lovers, and it hadn't lasted eight months. And you'd cut everything off with him the moment the ring had been placed on your finger.

"Chérie?" He looks confused. "What is wrong?"

"Oh, you were talking to me?" you ask.

He blinks, rubbing his face. "Yes? Who else would I be talking to? We're alone."

"Right." You draw in a deep breath and pick up his phone, tossing it towards him. "I thought maybe you were talking to Cassidy."

Despite his quick reflexes he fumbles, the phone landing on the floor with a thud. You can see the blood drain from his face. "Chérie—"

"Don't call me that," you gasp. "Not when you called her that. Last night, remember?"

"She doesn't mean anything to me," he says, snatching his phone off the floor. "It is just a fling."

"A fling doesn't last eight months, Charles." You stand up, tucking your robe tightly around yourself. "A fling isn't a chérie."

"Ché – y/n—"

"You sent her a video of you masturbating from my grandma's bathroom!" you screech, jerking away when he reaches for you. "What next? Gonna invite her to the wedding? I'm sure the priest won't mind you bending her – what was it? – perfect ass over and fucking her until she can't remember her own name. God, you're disgusting."

"I have a problem," he says, and you can hear the edge in his voice. It's just like the last time, when he—

"How many girls are you fucking?" you gasp.

"I'm not…" He hangs his head, muttering under his breath. "They don't mean anything."

"That doesn't make it better," you groan. Snatching clothes from the open suitcase on the floor, you hurriedly put them on. "You said last time that it was a mistake. That it would never happen again."

Charles raises his head. "I lied."

You blink at him. "Oh my god."

"No, chérie, don't leave."

"I believed you. I fell for ever fucking lie." You shake your head in disbelief, grabbing up your phone and purse.

"Please, please, let me explain." He takes a step towards you, stopping when you shoot him a glare.

"No." You squeeze your eyes shut.

Don't marry him, y/n.

"I can't believe I trusted you. I gave up everything for you. Because I thought you were true. I thought that the last time was the only time. I thought… I thought you loved me," you whisper, twisting the ring again.

"I do. More than anything."

"But you can't. You can't love me more than anything and tell Cassidy that marrying me won't change anything. You can't stand here and say you love me while some woman I don't know has pictures of your dick."

"Please, I can… I can change—"

You let out a harsh laugh. "Do you know what I gave up for you? I left a job I loved to work in fucking Monaco because you needed me with you. I had to let friendships I've had since high school fade because I'm so far away I can't keep in touch all the time. I—" You choke on a sob.

I've never not needed you.

"I gave up someone that truly loved me, that made me happier than I deserved. Because I wanted us to make it," you whisper. You see the confusion on his face.

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter. H-he won't have anything to do with me now, because I chose you." Tears blur your vision and you wrench the ring from your finger. You want to throw it in his face, tell him it was Lando, let out your anger by telling him what you'd done. But you can't do that to Lando. With care you set the ring on the dresser.

"Chérie… Please, not like this," he says.

It hits you that he's probably not upset over you leaving. He's upset because he always does the leaving. "I'll go to the apartment and get my stuff while you're at Zandvoort," you say. "I'll leave my keys."

"Where will you go?"

"Don't pretend to care now."

"I wanted us to make it too," he says softly. And you almost believe him.

"Apparently not enough," you murmur.

His phone vibrates again and he huffs. "Yeah hang on, getting texts," he says, pushing his headset back and reaching for the phone.

Even though he deleted the contact he recognizes the number. Opening the message, he glances at the screen, watching Max cycle through the available cars. Swallowing his worry, he looks at the phone.

-I'm leaving Monaco. -I ended the engagement and broke up with him. -I just wanted to let you know. I don't expect anything. -I still miss us. -Good luck, Lando. Take care.

He reads them over again, ignoring Max and the game. His chest aches and he lets out his breath in a rush. About to reply, he pauses, seeing a text from Oscar.

-Still coming to Melbourne for a few days?

He smiles, quickly tapping out a reply.

-Flight leaves tonight 2am my time. Can't wait.

Going back, he stares at the number. Then, pushing down the familiar ache, he swipes to delete it, watching it disappear. There's a sense of finality to it and he tosses his phone down and rubs his hands over his face. He pulls his headset back into place.

"You good?" Max asks.

"Yeah, just junk." He stretches his arms above his head then drums his hands on the desk. "Right, let's fucking do this."

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #my writings > ln #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #my writings > cl

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magnagaruzenmon · 7 days ago

Text

Stay Alive

The first part of heavy metal, and woo this is a doozy to start on…fuck you dino. Also happy new years. I hope you've been having fun with Daigo's holiday specials, because this is the last one for now

I just wanna thank @coldfanbou and @lustspren for writing cool stuff. No smut yet needed to world build hope that’s okay.

“Ah, come on, Daigo, it’ll be fun! Picture this: a three-day music festival entirely dedicated to girl groups. Some of your favorites—Dreamcatcher, Twice, Eunbi, and so many more! How could you say no to that?”

Jonas’s enthusiasm was infectious, but I wasn’t in the mood. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The chaos from recent riots at music festivals played on a loop in my mind—overcrowding, fights breaking out, people getting hurt. I’d seen it up close before, and I wasn’t eager to put myself in the middle of it again.

“I don’t know…” I hesitated, glancing at the stack of bills on my counter that never seemed to shrink. “It’s just—with all the violence lately, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jonas let out an exaggerated sigh on the other end of the line. “Daigo, you’re killing me here. Look, I need someone I can trust for this gig. You’ve got experience, you’re good under pressure, and—let’s be real—you’re the biggest fangirl I know when it comes to these groups.”

I chuckled despite myself. “Fangirl? That’s rich coming from the guy who cried when LOONA disbanded.”

“That was different, and you know it!” Jonas shot back, feigning indignation. “Tell you what, though. You help me out this one time, and I’ll sweeten the deal: I’ll get you backstage access for your top three groups. You can say hi, do the whole meet-and-greet thing, and—” he paused for dramatic effect, “I’ll pay you double time.”

“Double time and a meet-and-greet?” I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You must be desperate.”

“Desperate doesn’t even cover it,” Jonas admitted. “But I know you, Daigo. You’ll do it. You just need a little incentive.”

I leaned forward, considering his offer. The idea of meeting Dreamcatcher, Twice, and Eunbi backstage was tempting. Hell, it was more than tempting—it was a dream come true. But I wasn’t about to let him off easy.

“Okay,” I said, dragging the word out. “I’ll do it. But on one condition: you pay me in advance for the regular eight-hour shifts. When overtime inevitably hits—and we both know it will—you can pay me after.”

I expected him to balk, to try to negotiate or talk me down. Instead, Jonas practically shouted into the phone. “Fine! Deal!”

I sighed, shaking my head. “You’re way too excited about this. I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

“Only if you don’t bring something for your bias to sign!” Jonas teased, and before I could respond, he added, “I’ll send you the details. And, Daigo? Thanks, man. I owe you big time.”

As I hung up, I stared at my phone, torn between dread and anticipation. The job might be chaos, sure, but the thought of meeting my idols backstage was enough to nudge me into action. Maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t be so bad.

The first two days of the festival passed in a blur. I worked with Lightsum alongside a guy named Dinozen, a chill dude with a sharp sense of humor, and covered the super-secret IZ*ONE reunion stage with someone named Dexter, a no-nonsense guy who seemed to have everything under control. Unsurprisingly, the girls were all the sweetest. Chowon, Sakura, and Eunbi even signed my photocards, which was an experience I’d never forget.

Hyewon, though, surprised me. She noticed my Night of the Living Dead phone case while I was setting up security near the backstage area.

“Oh my God, is that Romero’s Night of the Living Dead?” she asked, her eyes lighting up as she leaned in closer to get a better look.

“Yeah,” I said, holding up the phone so she could see it better. “You’re a fan?”

“Are you kidding? I love zombie movies. Do you like Train to Busan?”

“Of course! A classic,” I replied, and we spent a few minutes geeking out about the genre before she got whisked away for rehearsals.

The last day of the festival was intense, to say the least. The lineup was packed: IVE, LE SSERAFIM, QWER, GFRIEND (yes, Eunha and Lil Uzi Vert were there), KISS OF LIFE, Dreamcatcher, and finally, Twice.

For the first two stages, Sakura, Chaewon, Yujin, and Wonyoung spotted me lingering around during the early morning soundchecks.

“Did you even sleep last night?” Wonyoung called out, grinning mischievously as she approached with the others in tow.

“Barely,” I admitted, stifling a yawn.

“You’re here earlier than us! Are you secretly a sasaeng?” Sakura teased, elbowing me lightly as the others burst into laughter.

“Yeah, what’s your bias list?” Chaewon added with mock suspicion, crossing her arms and squinting at me.

“Okay, first of all,” I said, holding up a finger, “I’m not a sasaeng. Second, I’m here working. You know, security?”

“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say,” Yujin quipped.

“Don’t worry, oppa, we’ll keep your secret,” Wonyoung said, winking.

“Oppa?!” I exclaimed, rolling my eyes at their antics. “You’re all impossible.”

Truth be told, I didn’t mind. Their teasing broke the ice, and by the end of their set, they were thanking me profusely for keeping everything running smoothly.

Later, I found myself working security for GFRIEND. Eunha caught me lingering backstage and decided to strike up a conversation.

“You’re awfully quiet for a security guy,” she said, tilting her head. “Do we intimidate you?”

“Not at all,” I said with a smirk. “I’m just professional. But since we’re chatting—big fan, by the way.”

Eunha grinned, leaning in slightly. “Oh? Do you have a favorite song?”

“‘Time for the Moon Night.’ No contest.”

“Good choice,” she said, clearly pleased. “You’ve got good taste. But…” She paused, her expression turning playful. “What’s your bias list for Twice?”

“You’re not getting that out of me,” I said, laughing.

“Oh, come on!” she said, punching my arm lightly before getting called away for rehearsal.

QWER was an entirely different vibe. From the moment they showed up, they were absolute chaos gremlins. Magenta spotted my Ultraman keychain dangling from my belt and let out a gasp loud enough to make heads turn.

“Is that Ultraman?!” she exclaimed, running over.

“Yeah. You a fan?”

“Am I a fan?!” she said, practically bouncing on her heels. “Ultraman Tiga is my favorite! What about you?”

We ended up on a massive tangent about tokusatsu, until Hina chimed in about Final Fantasy when I mentioned I love girls who can fight like Tifa from FFVII. “Tifa’s the best, hands down,” she said, crossing her arms as if daring anyone to argue.

“Agreed,” I said, nodding. “What’s your go-to build for her?”

“Oh, don’t get her started,” Chodan cut in, laughing. “But seriously, what’s your take on League of Legends?” After hearing me say someone was inting in the previous conversation.

That led to another rabbit hole of nerd talk, with Chodan grilling me about champs and strategies while Magenta playfully teased her for his “tryhard vibes.”

After their performance, Magenta pulled me aside. “Hey, if you want a job after this, come to Korea,” she said, a surprising seriousness in her tone. “I’m sure we can find a spot for you.”

I rolled my eyes, thinking it was just more teasing. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get right on that.”

“No, really,” she said, locking eyes with me. “Think about it. You’d fit in.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard, but before I could respond, she was already running off to join the others.

Sure! Here’s an expanded version of the scene with more dialogue and detail:

Dreamcatcher’s set was a whirlwind. They came in, stole the show with their energy and charisma, and left just as quickly. It was clear they were pros, used to the hectic schedule of being on tour. I barely had a chance to speak with them, but as I was walking backstage, Yoohyeon caught sight of my shirt peeking out from under my security uniform.

“Wait—is that a Kaiju No. 8 shirt?” she asked, pointing excitedly.

I froze, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. Big fan of the series.”

“Same here!” Yoohyeon said, her eyes lighting up. “Dami got me into it. Isn’t Kafka’s transformation just the coolest?”

Dami, standing nearby, smirked. “Yoohyeon keeps trying to get everyone in the group to read it.”

“It’s worth it!” Siyeon chimed in, adjusting her jacket. “But, seriously, where’d you get that shirt? I’ve been looking for merch everywhere.”

I laughed nervously. “Online. Limited drop, though, so it might be hard to find now.”

“Lucky,” Dami said, shaking her head. “Anyway, we’d better go. Tour schedule’s tight.”

They waved as they hurried out, leaving me feeling both starstruck and a little bummed that I didn’t have more time to talk to them.

As Dreamcatcher’s bus pulled away, Twice was arriving. Their energy was palpable even before they stepped out, fans screaming from behind the barricades as they made their way inside. I was checking the perimeter when I heard a familiar voice.

“You were at our LA concert a few years ago.”

I turned to see Dahyun, smiling warmly as she approached. For a second, I was stunned.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “How did you remember that?”

Dahyun tilted her head, still smiling. “We don’t have many fans that look like…you, so I always try to remember their faces. Plus, you brought that light-up ring instead of our Candybong.”

I laughed, embarrassed but also flattered. “Yeah, the Candybong was sold out, so I improvised.”

“Well, it worked! We all thought it was cool.”

Before I could say anything else, the ground beneath us seemed to shift. setting everyone on edge.

“What was that?” someone whispered behind me.

And then the screams began.

From the crowd near the main stage, people started to thrash and convulse, their movements jerky and unnatural. Others began growling, their voices guttural and animalistic. The sight was surreal—like something out of a horror movie.

“Everyone, move!” I yelled, springing into action.

I turned to Dahyun and the rest of Twice. “Get to the evacuation buses. Now!”

They didn’t argue, following my lead as I herded them and the remaining girl groups backstage toward the buses. The screams and chaos grew louder as the infected began attacking others in the crowd, tearing into them with horrifying ferocity.

“Keep moving!” I shouted, adrenaline surging as I kept the idols together, forming a protective barrier between them and the chaos.

One by one, the groups boarded the buses. I stayed behind to make sure everyone was accounted for, scanning the area for any stragglers.

“Daigo, get on!” someone shouted from inside the last bus.

As I turned to board, a hand grabbed me, yanking me backward with incredible strength. The bus door shut just as I lost my footing.

The man who had grabbed me was no longer human. His eyes were bloodshot, black veins bulging across his face and neck like spiderwebs. He growled, the sound primal and terrifying, before lunging at me.

I struggled against him, barely managing to shove him off, but not before his teeth sank into my arm. Pain shot through me as I kicked him away, slamming a nearby door into his face before scrambling to my car.

Blood was dripping from my arm as I started the engine, my hands shaking. My phone buzzed with an emergency alert:

“EMERGENCY ALERT: FERAL RAGE VIRUS OUTBREAK IN LOS ANGELES. AVOID INFECTED INDIVIDUALS. IF BITTEN, SELF-ISOLATE IMMEDIATELY.”

A wave of dread washed over me as the words sank in. A zombie apocalypse—and I’d been bitten.

By the time I got home, I was running on autopilot. I found a note from my family on the kitchen counter:

“We evacuated. Stay safe. We love you.”

I smiled faintly, relieved that they had made it out, even as the reality of my situation settled in. I sat down on the couch, clutching my arm as I waited—waited for the inevitable.

But as the hours passed, nothing happened. No fever, no loss of control, no primal urge to attack. Just silence.

Something was wrong—or maybe something was right. Whatever it was, I wasn’t turning. At least, not yet. 28 weeks later

California had been decimated by the undead in a matter of days. The infection spread faster than anyone could have predicted, turning the Golden State into a graveyard of abandoned cities and roaming hordes of the infected. Military barricades crumbled, evacuation plans failed, and those who were lucky got out while they could. Planes were packed with desperate refugees, cars clogged the highways leading east, and boats left the coastlines overcrowded with those willing to risk open waters.

For me, leaving wasn’t an option.

I didn’t have the luxury of escape, not because I couldn’t find a way out, but because of the bite on my arm. By the time the infection reached its peak, there were no confirmed cases of immunity. A bite was a death sentence—or worse, an eternity as one of the infected. The thought of being trapped in that kind of existence kept me grounded, unwilling to risk spreading the infection to anyone else.

But something strange happened.

I didn’t turn.

Days turned into weeks, and then months. The black veins that had crawled up my arm after the attack faded away within hours, leaving only a faint scar where the infected’s teeth had punctured my skin. I waited for the fever to come, for the primal urges, for the hallucinations people had described before losing themselves. None of it happened.

In fact, the only time I got remotely sick was from a bad batch of shrimp I’d scavenged off an abandoned food truck near the Santa Monica pier.

At first, I thought maybe I was just a late bloomer, that the virus would eventually catch up to me and take over. I avoided people, avoided crowded safe zones, not wanting to risk spreading whatever was inside me. I spent most of my time moving quietly through the ruins of Los Angeles, scavenging supplies and avoiding the Zs as best I could.

The thing was, the Zs avoided me too.

It wasn’t immediate, but over time, I started noticing that they didn’t react to me the way they did to others. If I stayed still, they would stumble past as if I weren’t even there. If I walked into a horde, they would part like a school of fish around a predator.

It was unsettling at first, terrifying even, but I couldn’t deny the advantage it gave me. I became a ghost in the city, slipping through once-busy streets and long-abandoned suburbs. I didn’t need to hide anymore.

Whatever was inside me, whatever had stopped the virus from taking hold, had made me different.

And in a world where survival was everything, being different wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

At first, surviving felt like an achievement. I kept moving, kept scavenging, and avoided any unnecessary risks. But as the weeks bled into months, that sense of urgency faded, replaced by something else: boredom.

The excitement of sneaking through an abandoned city, the thrill of dodging Zs, even the satisfaction of finding a can of beans in the back of an overturned truck—it all started to feel routine. The days blurred together.

Wake up. Scavenge. Avoid Zs. Sleep.

For a while, I wandered aimlessly. I retraced old memories, revisiting places I’d once loved. The Santa Monica Pier, now eerily quiet except for the creak of its abandoned rides. Griffith Park, where the Hollywood sign still stood, a crumbling symbol of a bygone world. But eventually, even nostalgia wasn’t enough to fill the emptiness.

So I headed south.

San Diego seemed as good a place as any to settle. The Zs were thinner here, the population having fled or been wiped out in the first waves of the outbreak. The weather was mild, the ocean breeze cutting through the silence, and the naval base offered plenty of resources for the taking if I could get past the wreckage.

I found an old house in a quiet suburb, tucked away behind overgrown trees and hedges. It was small but sturdy, with thick walls and a decent vantage point from the second floor. The backyard had a rusted swing set, a reminder of the family that had once lived here.

Over time, I turned it into my safe haven.

The front door was reinforced with scrap metal I’d scavenged from a nearby junkyard. Windows were boarded up, and the second-floor balcony became my lookout point. I rigged up a crude rainwater collection system with a tarp and some old gutters and managed to get a small solar panel working, enough to power a single lightbulb and charge my radio.

I spent my days scavenging for supplies, fortifying the house, and exploring the surrounding neighborhoods. Grocery stores, gas stations, and even old military supply depots had been picked clean, but every once in a while, I’d find something useful—tools, canned food, medicine.

It was a life, I suppose.

But it was also mind-numbingly dull.

I tried to keep myself busy. I’d read old books I found in abandoned houses, patch holes in my clothes, and even attempted to learn how to cook properly with the limited ingredients I had. But there were only so many ways to make canned beans and rice interesting, and only so many times I could read Dune before the words started to blur together.

The worst part was the silence.

I used to think I hated noise—traffic jams, crowded malls, loud neighbors. But now, I would have given anything to hear another human voice, even just in passing. The only sounds were the distant groans of Zs, the wind rattling through broken windows, and the occasional creak of the house settling under its own weight.

Sometimes, I’d sit on the roof at night, staring at the stars and wondering if there was anyone else out there. Were there other people like me, survivors trying to rebuild? Or was I really the last one left, wandering through the ruins of the world?

Whatever the answer, one thing was clear: this life wasn’t sustainable.

I needed a purpose. Something to do, somewhere to go. Anything to break the monotony.

But until then, I kept moving through the same routine, day after day, wondering how long I could keep going before the boredom consumed me entirely.

Life alone in San Diego wasn’t just about surviving anymore—it was about mastering survival. The boredom had driven me to find ways to fill my days, and in doing so, I’d turned what was once a simple safe house into a fortress of modern conveniences.

The first breakthrough came with the solar panels. I’d stumbled across a half-abandoned solar farm about a mile from my safe house. It had been overrun with Zs, but they didn’t notice me as I worked my way through the facility, scavenging what I could. I started small, hauling back a single panel and an inverter to test if I could rig it up to charge my car battery. When that worked, I went back for more.

It took weeks of trial and error, piecing together wiring and jerry-rigging connections, but eventually, I had enough solar power to light my house, charge a working phone, and even run a small TV. The TV only played old DVDs I found in people’s basements or streaming content saved offline, but it was better than staring at the walls in silence.

Next, I tackled the water situation. Collecting rainwater was easy enough, but I wanted something more. I scavenged pipes, valves, and even an old water heater from a hardware store and figured out how to reroute collected water through the system. After several failed attempts—and one near-disaster involving a busted valve and a flooded basement—I managed to create a working setup. Hot water was a luxury I never thought I’d have again, but on cold nights, a hot shower made all the difference.

Siphoning gas was easier than I expected, though it came with risks. I learned to be fast and cautious, always checking my surroundings before sticking the hose into an abandoned car or truck. Over time, I built up a stockpile of fuel, which I stored in metal barrels I kept in the garage. The gas wasn’t just for the occasional use of my car but also for running a small generator when the solar panels didn’t get enough sunlight.

The freezers were my crowning achievement. I found a pair of them in a strip mall appliance store that had been untouched—probably because most people didn’t think about long-term food storage during the chaos of an apocalypse. Getting them back to my safe house was a nightmare involving a borrowed pickup truck, a makeshift ramp, and more muscle than I thought I had. But once I hooked them up to the solar grid, they became indispensable.

One freezer was stocked with frozen food I’d scavenged from long-abandoned grocery stores, still surprisingly edible thanks to the cold temperatures in the freezers I’d found them in. The other I filled with supplies I processed myself—vacuum-sealed meats, vegetables, and even some wild game I managed to hunt with a crossbow I’d picked up along the way.

Over time, I built up reserves that would have made a doomsday prepper jealous: shelves lined with canned goods, jars of pickled vegetables, packets of instant coffee, and more tools and spare parts than I’d probably ever need.

I even managed to get my hands on a working smartphone, though the lack of cell service meant it was little more than a glorified camera and notepad. Still, I found ways to make it useful, storing downloaded survival guides, maps of San Diego, and even the occasional audiobook.

It wasn’t the life I’d imagined for myself, but it was a life nonetheless.

Yet as I sat in my makeshift living room one evening, surrounded by the quiet hum of the solar-powered TV and the faint glow of LED lights, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the silence pressing down on me. I had everything I needed to survive and more, but I still felt the gnawing emptiness of isolation.

I’d conquered boredom with ingenuity, but what I couldn’t conquer was the longing for human connection. For someone to talk to, to laugh with, to share all these little victories with.

The sound of glass crunching underfoot woke me, followed by the unmistakable creak of the front door being pushed open. I sighed, sitting up and grabbing the mattock I kept leaned against my nightstand. Another break-in. It had been months since any zombies had even stumbled across my safe house, and I’d started to think I was truly alone out here.

Guess not.

Descending the stairs quietly, I prepared for the worst. My muscles tensed as I reached the ground floor, but when I rounded the corner into the living room, I froze at the sight of the intruders. They were surprisingly not undead.

A group of about ten people stood huddled together, illuminated by the dim glow of my solar-powered lights. Among them were familiar faces that stopped me dead in my tracks: Loona alum Hyeju, Twice’s Jeongyeon and Dahyun, Yunjin from Le Sserafim, Chodan from QWER, and Yena from IZ*ONE.

Their wide-eyed stares mirrored my own surprise, though for different reasons.

“You know,” I said, breaking the silence and hefting the mattock onto my shoulder, “you could have just knocked.”

The group flinched slightly, but Dahyun and Chodan were the first to recover.

“Daigo?” they said in unison, their voices filled with disbelief.

I nodded, leaning the mattock against the wall. “The one and only. Now,” I said, gesturing toward the group, “how can I help you survivors out?”

Dahyun stepped forward, her face a mix of relief and confusion. “We didn’t think… I mean, we heard rumors that someone was living out here, but we didn’t expect it to be you.”

“Well, here I am,” I said, crossing my arms. “Looking exactly like I did last time you saw me, minus the security guard uniform.”

Chodan laughed, though it was more from nerves than humor. “Leave it to Daigo to survive the apocalypse and somehow look like he’s thriving.”

“I’ve had some practice,” I replied, motioning toward the group. “Now, you all look like you’ve been through hell. Sit down, and let’s figure out what you need.”

Hyeju finally spoke up, her voice quiet but firm. “We’re out of options. Supplies are running low, and we’ve been moving nonstop for weeks. We need food, shelter—anything you can spare.”

Yunjin, standing close to Hyeju, added, “We didn’t mean to break in. We thought this place was abandoned.”

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at the reinforced door now hanging slightly ajar. “Does this look abandoned to you? The lights didn’t give it away?”

Yena chimed in, her tone apologetic. “In our defense, we’ve seen plenty of powered-up places that were overrun. We didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Fair enough,” I said, letting out a breath. “Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today. Follow me.”

I led the group into the dining room, which I’d converted into a makeshift supply depot. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with canned goods, first aid supplies, and neatly folded clothes. Two freezers hummed quietly in the corner, a rare sound in the apocalypse.

“Holy crap,” Jeongyeon whispered, her eyes scanning the room. “You’ve got more here than most of the settlements we’ve passed through.”

“Like I said,” I replied, opening one of the freezers to reveal vacuum-sealed packages of meat and frozen vegetables, “I’ve had practice. Take what you need, but don’t get greedy. This isn’t a charity.”

The group quickly got to work organizing supplies, redistributing their belongings, and planning what they needed most. Meanwhile, Dahyun lingered near me, her expression unreadable.

“You really made it out here on your own,” she said softly, her voice tinged with disbelief and something close to admiration. “I thought… I thought you might’ve been gone, like everyone else.”

“Would’ve been,” I replied with a small, wry smile, “but I got bit. Bright side? Didn’t turn.”

Her brows furrowed slightly as she digested that information. “You’re immune?”

“Guess so. Though it wasn’t a walk in the park,” I admitted. “But what about you? Didn’t expect to see you out here.”

Dahyun shrugged, her gaze dropping to the floor. “We’ve been running since day one. Some of us made it; others didn’t. It’s been… rough.”

I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to. “I can imagine. Well, you’re safe here for now. Take a breather. You’ve earned it.”

The tension in her shoulders eased slightly, and she gave me a small, grateful smile before joining the others.

For the first time in months, my house felt alive. Voices filled the air as the group settled in, sharing stories and laughter over the first real meal they’d had in days. They were hesitant at first, like the silence of survival had been ingrained into their instincts. But as the night went on, the weight on their shoulders seemed to lift, even if only temporarily.

After everyone had eaten and showered, Chodan approached me, her sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on me.

“You know,” she began, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, “you’re living like a king here. You could easily take your talents to a settlement and help a lot of people.”

I sighed, setting my water bottle down and rolling up my sleeve to show her the faint remnants of my bite mark.

“I’m infected. Can’t really risk being around people. I could turn at any moment.”

Chodan raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Really?” she said, before lifting her shirt just enough to reveal a faint scar near her side.

My brain short-circuited for a moment. It had been months since I’d seen anyone this close, let alone someone this… distracting. I quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise in my face.

“Relax, caveman,” she teased, lowering her shirt. “Just showing you my bite mark. I got bit three weeks ago. The gestation period is supposed to be 48 hours max, and yet… here I am. Still human. So, either we’re both lucky, or we’re both immune. Oh, and by the way,” she added with a mischievous grin, “Dahyun got bit too. Day before yesterday.”

“Wait, what?” I blinked, looking over at Dahyun, who was now watching us with a sheepish expression.

“It’s true,” Dahyun admitted, stepping closer. “I was afraid to say anything at first, but… then I collapsed. As you can see i got better.”

I nodded slowly, piecing it together. “Well, I got bit 28 weeks ago—so I guess I’m either immune or just incredibly unlucky.”

Chodan’s eyebrows shot up. “Twenty-eight weeks? That’s… day zero.”

I nodded again. “Yeah. It happened during the initial outbreak.”

Her expression shifted, a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “Did you hear anything on the first day? There were reports of a high-pitched whine right before people started turning.”

I frowned, thinking back. “Nope. Didn’t hear a thing.”

Chodan’s eyes widened. “Oh. Then you’re truly immune.”

I squinted at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if delivering a secret. “The virus can’t infect you at all. If you didn’t hear the sound, it means your body isn’t affected by the signal it sends. You can’t turn, period.”

“But,” I interjected, “when I got bit, my veins turned black.”

“Did you have any other symptoms? Fever? Rage? Loss of consciousness?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Nope. Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought,” Chodan said, standing upright again. “You’re not a regular immune, though. You’re not a Slayer either.”

“Wait—Slayer?” I asked, now thoroughly confused.

Hyeju, who had been quietly observing, chimed in. “Slayers are people who’ve had the virus evolve them instead of killing or turning them. We’re stronger, faster… better, basically.”

I glanced around at the group, now realizing the mix of reactions on their faces. “Wait—you’re all Slayers?”

Chodan grinned. “Me, Hyeju, and Dahyun, yeah.”

“Oh, thanks for explaining it so thoroughly, Hyeju,” I said, shooting her a grateful look.

Hyeju smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome, Daigo. Oh, and thanks for the food.”

“You’re very welcome,” I replied, shaking my head. Of course, my safe house had gone from a sanctuary to a den of superpowered survivors in less than a day.

After the group had cleaned themselves up and prepared to leave, I directed them to the vehicles scattered throughout the neighborhood.

“They should still be working,” I explained, gesturing to the trucks and sedans.

The group looked at me in surprise. “Wait, you’ve been keeping all these in working condition?” Dahyun asked, her eyebrows raised.

I shook my head. “Not exactly. I haven’t repaired them or anything major, but I’ve kept the batteries charged, fluids topped up, and tires inflated. Basic upkeep,” I said with a shrug.

A few of them smiled as they hopped into the trucks. The group packed quickly, clearly practiced in loading supplies efficiently, though their movements carried the exhaustion of constant survival.

As the last of the supplies were loaded, Chodan and Dahyun approached me. They exchanged a glance before Dahyun stepped forward, her voice almost pleading.

“Please come with us,” she said.

Chodan chimed in, her tone more assertive. “We kind of need someone like you.”

I raised an eyebrow, leaning casually on my mattock. “You need a socially awkward hothead?”

Chodan laughed, but Dahyun shook her head, her expression serious. “No. A leader.”

I blinked, caught off guard by her sincerity. My gut reaction was to brush it off, but something in her tone gave me pause. I mulled it over for a moment before sighing. “Sure. Why not?”

The group let out a collective breath of relief, and I found myself helping them secure the last of their supplies before climbing into my car and following their convoy.

When we arrived at their settlement near the military base, my optimism took a nosedive. The place was barely holding together. Makeshift walls surrounded a cluster of tents and scavenged buildings. People wandered the grounds with hollow eyes, looking malnourished and weary.

“Jeez,” I muttered under my breath. “This is what you’re working with?”

As we parked, Eunha stood with a young man near the entrance. They were holding hands, their expressions tinged with equal parts hope and surprise as they saw the trucks pull in.

Yunjin jumped out of one of the vehicles, her voice ringing with triumph. “We got food! And water!”

The settlement erupted into cheers, a wave of relief sweeping over the ragged residents.

I, however, was less than impressed. “Wait, wait, wait,” I called out, holding up a hand. “You have access to water, energy, and military-grade weapons, and yet you look like you’re on the brink of starvation?”

The young man was the first to respond, his voice heavy with frustration. “The base proper is overrun. If you’re so eager to fix it, be my guest.”

I turned to the group, stunned. “So you’re telling me you haven’t even secured the base?”

The residents nodded sheepishly. I groaned, rubbing my temples. Without a word, I popped the trunk of my car and began pulling out weapons: a pair of customized gauntlets and boots I’d tinkered with during my long months alone.

“What are you doing?” one of the settlers asked nervously.

I sighed, strapping on the gear. “Making sure you all don’t die,” I muttered.

Before I could head toward the base, Chodan and Dahyun stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

“You can’t go in there,” Chodan said firmly. “There are rippers and changers inside.”

I froze, the names sparking a connection in my mind. Rippers—zombies with bladed arms capable of slicing through steel—and changers—fast, intelligent zombies that evolved in real time. Apex predators in a world of monsters.

“Are there whippers and spitters?” I asked, scanning the group for confirmation.

Everyone looked at me blankly. “What?” Chodan asked.

“Big zombies that spew acid, napalm, or spikes,” I clarified. “Or ones with long tongues that whip around like grappling hooks?”

Chodan and Dahyun exchanged a glance before shaking their heads. “No. None of that,” Dahyun said.

I gave them a thumbs-up. “Great. Then I’m going in, pummeling anything that moves and isn’t human, and we’ll secure the base so we can all stop living in this mess.”

I started toward the base, but Chodan stepped closer—so close I could feel her breath on my chest. My heart stuttered for a moment, and I cursed my brain for its caveman reaction.

“Daigo,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “You can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “For how I fight? Not really. Besides, as long as I follow the first rule of zombie apocalypses, I’ll be fine.”

The group stared at me, confused. “What’s that?” Dahyun finally asked.

I grinned. “Be smart, not scared.”

Without another word, I climbed the fence.

Before I could take another step, Chodan effortlessly vaulted over the fence after me in a single, graceful bound. I looked at her and realized she could easily fend off whatever was in there.

Chodan smirked, falling into step beside me. “You’re going to need me in there,” she said.

I glanced at her, then back at the base. “Guess we’ll see.”

We walked in with weapons raised, every sense heightened as we approached the entrance to the base. The stench of rot and decay hit us like a wall, the ground littered with body parts and unidentifiable chunks of flesh. The once-pristine military structure was now a grotesque tableau of death. Every step squelched against blood-soaked concrete, a grim reminder of what waited for us inside.

The first zombie to spot us let out a guttural screech, its twisted body lurching forward at an unnatural speed. Its milky-white eyes locked onto me as it sprinted, claws outstretched. I snapped my fingers, and flames erupted from my gauntlets and boots, wrapping around them like living entities.

With a single step forward, I swung my fist. The punch connected with the zombie's head, obliterating it in an instant. The headless body collapsed to the floor in a heap, twitching violently before going still.

I glanced over at Chodan, who raised an eyebrow in surprise, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Not bad,” she said, her tone impressed but still teasing.

I shrugged, brushing off her compliment. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Over the next few minutes, more zombies emerged from the shadows, drawn by the noise and the scent of fresh prey. Five of them charged at me in quick succession. I moved through them with a fiery ferocity, each punch igniting their decaying flesh. With every strike, I could feel the heat coursing through my body, the fire making short work of the infected.

Just as I finished off the last one, I turned to see Chodan spring into action. She unsheathed a short katana—I think it’s called a wakizashi or something like that—and moved with a lethal grace that was mesmerizing. Each slice of her blade was precise, every motion deliberate.

She ducked and spun, her strikes fluid and elegant as she danced through the undead. Her blade flashed in the dim light, leaving trails of crimson in the air. Within moments, the horde around her lay in pieces. It wasn’t just impressive—it was downright sexy. (What can I say? I like women who can fight, and after six months of isolation, watching Chodan in action was… distracting, to say the least.)

Together, we made our way deeper into the base, clearing out every corridor, room, and hallway we came across. Along the way, we gathered access cards and files, carefully choosing the ones that weren’t completely soaked in blood or viscera. Mapping out the base was crucial if we wanted to make it a safe haven.

Two grueling hours later, we emerged from the base, our task for the day complete.

The camp was waiting for us when we returned. Their faces lit up in shock and awe at the sight of us alive and—well, mostly intact. Thanks to the fiery nature of my weapons, I was relatively clean, save for a few smudges of soot. Chodan, on the other hand, looked like she’d walked straight out of Kill Bill. Her clothes were drenched in blood, and her katana was dripping crimson.

The group stared for a moment before breaking into cheers. Their joy was infectious, and I found myself smiling despite the exhaustion.

Over the next two weeks, the slayers and I worked tirelessly to clear the rest of the base. The deeper sections were overrun, and each encounter with the infected felt like a battle against time and attrition. We couldn’t risk leaving a single zombie behind, knowing even one could cause a mini-outbreak once the camp moved in.

During this time, we also worked to fully map out the base, identifying areas that could be repurposed for agriculture, water purification, and living quarters. One of the larger open-air courtyards became the designated zone for growing vegetables and fruits, a necessary counterbalance to the endless supply of fish we’d soon be consuming.

By the end of the second week, we had restored power to the base and set up a desalination system to provide fresh water. The once-derelict military base was beginning to transform into a functional, self-sufficient community. By the end of the month, we had fortified the perimeter, secured resources, and established a sustainable living environment that could endure the apocalypse indefinitely.

Yet, despite our progress, I couldn’t shake the restless feeling gnawing at the back of my mind.

Sensing this, Yunjin and Hyeju decided to lift everyone’s spirits by organizing a celebration. The party was small but lively, with music, laughter, and a rare sense of warmth filling the air. People danced and shared stories, the weight of survival temporarily forgotten.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt connected—to them, to this place, and maybe even to something greater than myself.

The celebration was in full swing by the time I made my way to the center of the courtyard. Lanterns we’d scavenged from the base cast a warm glow over the party, and the air buzzed with a mix of laughter, music, and the clinking of makeshift cups. For the first time in months, the weight of the apocalypse seemed to lift, even if only temporarily.

I leaned against a crate of supplies, enjoying the scene as I nursed a glass of something Yunjin had proudly labeled “party punch.” (It tasted like motor oil with a hint of lemon, but hey, it was the thought that counted.)

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Dahyun making her way toward me. Her smile was soft, and there was something unspoken in her eyes. “Hey,” she said, holding up her cup as she leaned against the crate beside me.

“Hey,” I replied, offering a small smile.

“I was just thinking,” she began, “none of this would’ve been possible without you. Clearing the base, organizing everything—you’ve done more in a few weeks than we’ve managed in months.”

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. “It’s not like I did it alone. You all worked just as hard.”

She shook her head, her expression earnest. “Don’t sell yourself short, Daigo. You brought people together. That’s not something everyone can do.”

Before I could respond, Chodan appeared on my other side, seemingly out of nowhere. She slid in smoothly, her confident smirk firmly in place. “Are we talking about how great Daigo is? Because I’ve got a list.”

I blinked, caught off guard by her sudden arrival. Dahyun stiffened beside me, her relaxed posture shifting as her grip tightened on her cup.

“Didn’t realize I had a fan club,” I joked, trying to ease the tension.

Chodan ignored me, her gaze focused on Dahyun. “You’re right, though,” she said, her tone just a little too pointed. “Daigo’s been a real asset. Honestly, I don’t know how we managed without him.”

“Guess you’ll have to start getting used to it,” Dahyun replied, her smile polite but strained. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

Chodan tilted her head, her smirk widening. “Oh, I don’t know. He might decide to come on a few missions with me. You know, something more exciting than farming and base maintenance.”

“Farming is exciting when it’s keeping people alive,” Dahyun shot back, her voice calm but firm. “Not everyone needs to play the hero to make a difference.”

I glanced between the two of them, sensing the subtle sparks flying. “Uh, you guys okay?” I asked, trying to break the tension.

“Perfectly fine,” Dahyun said quickly, taking a sip of her drink.

“Just fine,” Chodan echoed, crossing her arms as she leaned closer to me. “Speaking of heroes, Daigo, you’ve got to tell me how you learned to fight like that. I’ve never seen anyone take on a group of zombies the way you did.”

Dahyun raised an eyebrow. “It’s not all about fighting. He’s got other skills too, like keeping the base running and making sure we don’t starve. That’s just as important.”

“Of course,” Chodan replied smoothly, her tone dripping with faux agreement. “But let’s be real—there’s no base to run if you can’t keep it safe.” She turned to me, her expression playful but loaded. “Right, Daigo?”

I felt like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh… I mean, both are important?”

Dahyun rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression now. “Nice save,” she said, bumping her shoulder lightly against mine.

Chodan laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Guess that’s why he’s the leader, huh?”

The three of us stood there for a moment, the awkwardness lingering but not entirely unpleasant. As the party carried on around us, I couldn’t help but feel a little flattered, even if the attention was overwhelming.

Yunjin’s voice cut through the noise, calling everyone to the center for a toast. I used the opportunity to excuse myself, slipping away from the growing crowd and finding a quieter corner to breathe.

As I leaned against the wall, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. The apocalypse sure had a funny way of complicating things.

The camp had grown exponentially since we first cleared the base. Word spread fast, and survivors from across the region trickled in, desperate for safety and stability. Among the newcomers were two slayers: Hyewon, a quiet yet sharp-eyed scout from a decimated group, and Tsuki, a high-energy fighter with a knack for unconventional tactics.

Their arrival was a turning point.

I was inspecting the desalination system one morning when Hyewon approached me, her movements were measured but purposeful. She didn’t say much at first—just hovered nearby, watching as I adjusted a valve. Finally, she spoke.

“You really run this place?” she asked, her tone neutral but her eyes cautious.

“I guess so,” I replied with a shrug. “Not much of a title, but I try to keep things running smoothly.”

She nodded, her expression softening slightly. “You treat slayers… differently.”

“Differently how?”

“Like people,” she said simply. “My last group didn’t.”

Before I could respond, Tsuki bounded up, her energy a stark contrast to Hyewon’s reserved demeanor.

“This place is amazing!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels. “Food, water, even showers! And no one’s looking at us like we’re monsters.” She paused, giving me a wide grin. “You’re the boss, right?”

“I wouldn’t call myself that,” I said, standing up and wiping my hands on a rag. “But I try to keep everyone alive.”

“Well, count me in!” Tsuki declared, sticking out her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Hyewon, still standing a few feet away, added quietly, “Me neither.”

At first, their attachment was subtle. Hyewon would shadow me during supply runs, her sharp eyes scanning for threats. Tsuki, on the other hand, was more overt, always offering to help with repairs or sparring with other slayers under my supervision.

But as more survivors arrived, the camp’s dynamics began to shift. With new faces came new opinions—and new power struggles.

One evening, after a long day of clearing more space in the base for new arrivals, a meeting was called in the main hall. It was supposed to be a discussion about resource management, but it quickly spiraled into a debate over leadership.

“Daigo’s done a great job, but we need more structure,” a man named Mark, one of the newer arrivals, said. “We can’t just rely on one person’s decisions.”

“I agree,” chimed in Lisa, a former teacher who’d quickly become a voice for the non-slayer survivors. “We should have a council or something. It’s too risky to have all the power in one person’s hands.”

“I don’t think he’s been abusing it,” Dahyun countered, her voice calm but firm.

Mark shot her a look. “That’s not the point. The camp’s grown too big for one person to handle.”

Before I could speak, Tsuki jumped to her feet.

“Are you kidding me?” she said, her voice rising. “Daigo’s the reason this place isn’t a pile of ash. If it weren’t for him, half of you wouldn’t even be here!”

Hyewon, still seated, added quietly but pointedly, “He treats slayers like equals. That’s more than I can say for most of you.”

The room grew tense, the divide between slayers and non-slayers suddenly glaring.

“I’m not saying we don’t appreciate him,” Mark said, his tone defensive. “But this camp belongs to all of us, not just the slayers.”

“And yet you’re here because of us,” Chodan interjected, standing next to Dahyun. “You think you’d survive a day out there without us?”

The argument grew louder, voices overlapping as the group fractured into factions. Some sided with Mark and Lisa, calling for more democratic leadership. Others, particularly the slayers, stood by me, pointing out the unique challenges we faced in keeping everyone alive.

I raised my hand, and slowly the room quieted.

“Enough,” I said, my voice firm but not angry. “This isn’t about me, or anyone else. It’s about survival. We can figure out the leadership structure later. Right now, we focus on what matters: keeping this camp safe and functional.”

The room was silent for a moment, then Lisa spoke up. “Fair enough. But this conversation isn’t over.”

She and Mark left the hall, and slowly, others followed, leaving only the slayers and a few loyal survivors. Tsuki crossed her arms, glaring at the door.

“They don’t get it,” she muttered.

“They’re scared,” I said, leaning against the table. “Can’t blame them for that.”

Hyewon stood, her gaze steady. “You’re too nice, Daigo. But that’s why we trust you.”

Chodan nodded, and even Dahyun offered a rare smile.

As the others filed out, I sat alone in the hall for a while, the weight of the growing camp pressing down on me. Leadership wasn’t something I’d ever asked for, but it seemed I didn’t have much of a choice.

Later that night I found myself struggling to sleep. My quarters were as simple as it got: a small bed with a lumpy mattress, a desk buried under maps and scavenged files, and a single lamp casting just enough light to keep the darkness at bay. After the day I’d had, all I wanted was to pass out. But sleep wasn’t coming easily. Too many faces were swimming in my head—worried faces, hopeful faces, faces looking to me for answers.

I was lying there, staring at the ceiling, when a soft knock came at the door.

“It’s open,” I called, too tired to sit up.

The door creaked open, and I glanced over to see Chodan stepping inside. She looked calm, but I knew her well enough by now to notice the subtle tension in her posture.

“Hey,” she said, closing the door behind her. “Figured you’d still be awake.”

“Barely,” I muttered, letting my head fall back onto the pillow. “What’s up?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she walked over to the bed and knelt down beside me. Before I could ask what she was doing, I felt her hands on my shoulders.

“What are you—”

“You’re tense,” she interrupted, already working at the knots in my muscles. “Let me help.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come. Her hands were strong, and as much as I wanted to protest, I couldn’t deny it felt good. So I just sighed and let her work, the tension slowly melting away.

“You’ve got your hands full,” she said after a while, her tone light. “Especially with your little ducklings.”

“My what now?” I asked, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye.

“Hyewon and Tsuki,” she said with a smirk. “They’ve imprinted on you like a couple of baby ducks.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes. “They’re not ducklings. They’re just… adjusting.”

“Adjusting to following you around like lost puppies?” she teased. “You can’t take two steps without one of them popping up to ask if you need anything.”

“They’re slayers,” I said defensively. “They’ve been through hell. Of course they’re going to stick close to someone who treats them with basic respect.”

Chodan’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “And that’s exactly why they follow you, you know. Most people don’t look at us the way you do.”

“The way I do?”

“Like we’re just people,” she said quietly. “Not monsters. Not weapons. Just… people.”

I was silent for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. “Because you are just people,” I said finally. “You didn’t ask for this any more than the rest of us asked for zombies. You’re just trying to survive like everyone else.”

Chodan’s hands stilled on my shoulders, and when I looked over, her expression was softer than I’d ever seen it.

“That’s not how everyone sees it,” she said. “Since more survivors started showing up, Dahyun and I… we’ve felt it. The whispers, the stares. It’s like we don’t belong here anymore. Like we’re dangerous.”

I sat up, brushing her hands aside so I could look her in the eye. “You belong here,” I said firmly. “Both of you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

She studied me for a long moment, then smiled—a small, genuine smile that made her look younger, almost vulnerable. “You’re a strange guy, Daigo,” she said. “But I think that’s why people follow you. Even when they don’t agree with you, they trust you.”

I chuckled, leaning back against the wall. “Strange, huh? I’ll take it.”

Chodan tilted her head, her smile turning sly again. “You know, you’ve done more than any of us. You’re not a slayer, but you’ve taken down more zombies than all of us combined. And you’re immune on top of that. It’s like you’re something else entirely.”

“Just a guy with a lot of stubbornness and a decent punch,” I said with a shrug.

She shook her head. “No, you’re more than that. You’ve earned a title.”

I raised an eyebrow. “A title?”

She nodded, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yeah. From now on, you’re ‘The Vanquisher.’”

I laughed, shaking my head. “The Vanquisher? That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” she said with a grin. “But it fits. You’re the guy who doesn’t back down, no matter what’s in front of you. And you’ve given all of us hope. You deserve it.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I managed, “Thanks, Chodan. That… means a lot.”

She stood, stretching and giving me one last playful look. “Get some rest, Vanquisher. Tomorrow’s another busy day.”

As she left the room, I lay back down, the weight on my chest feeling a little lighter. For the first time in weeks, I drifted off to sleep with a small smile on my face.

The door to my quarters closed softly behind Chodan, but her teasing smirk lingered in my mind as I lay back down. Her parting remark about my “little ducklings” had been a low blow. She wasn’t wrong, though. Tsuki and Hyewon had latched onto me like lost kids, which wasn’t a problem—until you factored in Chodan and Dahyun, who had both been… friendlier lately.

I didn’t know what to make of it. They were strong, capable women, and maybe I was imagining things, but their lingering glances and playful jabs felt like more than camaraderie. It was something I’d need to ask them about. Tomorrow, I decided.

Only tomorrow didn’t start the way I planned.

The yelling pulled me from a restless sleep. I threw on my boots and stepped out into the chilly morning air to find Gil, Eunha’s boyfriend, squaring off with one of Martin’s goons.

“You left her to die!” Gil snarled, shoving the guy hard enough that he stumbled.

Martin’s man pushed back, and before things escalated further, I stepped between them. “What’s going on here?”

Gil’s chest was heaving, his hands clenched into fists. “Eunha’s out there, Daigo. Alone. She got bit because of them!”

Martin sauntered up, wearing his usual smug expression. “It’s simple,” he said, shrugging like this wasn’t life and death. “She wasn’t cut out for supply runs. Not my problem.”

For a second, I was too stunned to respond. I glanced back at Gil, who looked ready to explode, and said the only thing I could. “Let’s go get her.”

The commotion had drawn a crowd. Lisa’s group, always eager for drama, arrived first. Mark wasn’t far behind, his posse trailing like shadows.

“What’s going on?” Lisa asked, her tone sharp.

“This crazy bastard is going to help that lovesick idiot find his zombie girlfriend,” Martin sneered.

I ignored him, turning instead to Chodan and Dahyun, who had pushed their way through the growing throng. I handed them the site keycards without a word. If something happened to me, they’d keep the camp together.

Before I could leave, Tsuki and Hyewon appeared, weapons already strapped on.

“We’re coming with you,” Tsuki said, her tone resolute.

I sighed but didn’t argue. It wasn’t worth the fight. The four of us set out, Gil fuming silently at my side while Hyewon and Tsuki kept pace behind us.

Once we were out of earshot of the camp, my frustration boiled over.

“Those idiots are going to get everyone killed,” I growled, my voice low but seething.

Gil, Tsuki, and Hyewon stopped in their tracks, stunned.

“They’re so caught up in their fear and egos that they’re making stupid choices,” I continued, pacing now. “And when they screw up, people die. Or worse, they turn into slayers.”

Gil looked at me, shocked. “I… I didn’t realize…”

I stopped and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my temper in check. “It’s not your fault, Gil. You’re good. They’re the ones twisting everything. These supply runs? They’re not about survival. They’re about power. Credibility. They’re trying to build themselves up while tearing the rest of us down.”

The others didn’t reply, their silence heavy. We reached the edge of the horde soon after. Eunha was there, fighting for her life, her movements erratic but fierce.

I whistled, drawing the zombies’ attention away from her. “Let’s get her out of this mess.”

When we returned to the camp, Eunha was barely conscious. Her slayer transformation was starting, and it wasn’t going to be pleasant. I sent Gil to the infirmary with her while I headed back toward the center of camp.

That’s when I saw them—a new group of survivors, all slayers. And among them, three familiar faces: Momo Hirai, Sana Minatozaki, and Mina Myoui.

Dahyun’s cry of joy echoed through the air as she ran to embrace her friends. The reunion was heartwarming, but it didn’t last long. Lisa, Mark, and Martin arrived like clockwork, their expressions darkening the moment they spotted the new arrivals.

“Who are they?” Lisa demanded, her voice like a whip crack.

Sana stepped forward, her radiant smile disarming. “We’re survivors, just like you. And we’re slayers. We can help.”

The word “slayers” hit like a bomb. I watched as Lisa’s face twisted in disgust, while Mark and Martin exchanged uneasy glances.

“No,” Lisa said, her voice dripping with venom. “We have enough slayers already.”

Something inside me snapped.

I stepped forward, my presence enough to silence the crowd. “I am sick and tired of your bullshit,” I said, my voice low and measured, every word cutting like a blade.

The tension in the air was palpable as I continued, “We’re all just trying to survive, and you three are doing the absolute most while somehow doing the least. You put people in danger, then leave them for dead. Why? For what? Por qué? 무어?”

Lisa, to her credit, didn’t back down. “You protect these freaks because two of them are your paramours,” she spat.

The camp went deathly quiet. My vision blurred at the edges as my anger surged. For a brief moment, I felt something—something primal, something dark—stir within me.

I stepped closer to Lisa, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Do you know what the Black Rage is?”

She hesitated, but her defiance didn’t waver. “No.”

I leaned in, my gaze locked on hers. “It’s from Warhammer 40k. There’s a militia cursed with it because their leader, Sanguinius, sacrificed himself to save the galaxy. It’s a state of murderous blind rage that festers in the soul, brought out under massive stress. Your words, Lisa, are pushing me there.”

She paled but didn’t respond.

I straightened, addressing the entire camp now. “If you don’t want slayers here, you can leave. But while I’m leading this settlement, you will treat them with respect and dignity. Am I clear?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Finally, Lisa turned and stormed off, Mark and Martin trailing behind her.

As I looked back at the camp, my eyes met Sana’s. She smiled softly, a look of gratitude and understanding that made the tension in my chest ease just a little.

Scene: “The Breaking Point” (Revised Ending)

The silence was unbearable as Lisa stormed off, Mark and Martin following behind like shadows. I exhaled deeply, trying to steady my racing heart. The crowd began to disperse, though I could feel their eyes on me—some wide with awe, others wary, as if they’d seen something they couldn’t quite explain.

My knuckles ached. I looked down and realized my fists were clenched so tightly they’d gone white. Slowly, I loosened them, flexing my fingers as I willed the anger to fade.

That’s when I heard it—a whisper, faint but undeniable.

“Daigo?”

I turned to see Tsuki and Hyewon standing nearby, both looking more shaken than I’d ever seen them. Tsuki’s usual bubbly demeanor was gone, replaced by an unease that didn’t suit her. Hyewon seemed like she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.

The two exchanged glances before Tsuki stepped forward hesitantly. “Your eyes…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What about them?” I asked, frowning.

“They… changed,” she said. “For a second, they weren’t… normal.”

Hyewon nodded, adding softly, “And we heard something.”

“What do you mean, something?” I asked, feeling a knot form in my stomach.

“It was like… a crack,” Tsuki said, her hands gesturing as if she could grasp the sound. “Not outside. Inside you. Like something broke open.”

I stared at them, my mind racing. A part of me wanted to brush it off, to say they were imagining things. But the way they looked at me—half in awe, half in fear—told me they weren’t exaggerating.

“I don’t know what you think you saw or heard,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. “But I’m fine.”

Tsuki frowned, stepping closer. “Are you? Because I don’t think anyone else could have stood up to Lisa like that. Or said what you did.”

Hyewon nodded again, her voice gaining strength. “You didn’t just talk to them, Daigo. You commanded them. It was… different.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I’m just tired of their crap, that’s all.”

“But it’s more than that,” Tsuki pressed. “You don’t act like the rest of us. You don’t feel like the rest of us. Even the slayers here—none of us have done what you’ve done. It’s like…” She hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Like what?” I asked, my patience wearing thin.

“Like you’re something else,” she said, meeting my eyes with a mixture of curiosity and reverence.

Hyewon nodded one last time, her expression solemn. “Something more.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t. Instead, I turned and walked away, their voices echoing in my mind.

Scene: “Something More” (Expanded)

Something more.

The words lingered in my head like an echo, an itch I couldn’t scratch. As I made my way back to my quarters, exhaustion hit me like a freight train. My legs gave out beneath me, and the world went dark.

When I came to, the sterile smell of the infirmary greeted me. My body ached in ways I couldn’t describe. The faint hum of machinery filled the air, and the soft glow of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.

A familiar voice pulled me back to reality. “Well, you did turn,” the nurse said, her smile a mix of wariness and curiosity.

I frowned, propping myself up on the thin cot. “I’m immune,” I replied, my voice gravelly.

The nurse raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into an almost playful smirk. “Didn’t say normal,” she retorted.

She moved to the counter and grabbed a set of charts and X-rays, holding them up for me to see. “Take a look at this.”

The first X-ray showed something alien—a massive growth in my chest, a twisted knot of tissue that seemed to intertwine with every major organ. My stomach churned just looking at it.

“What the hell is that?” I asked, the unease creeping into my voice.

“That,” the nurse said, flipping to the next image, “was in your chest.”

I blinked. The second X-ray was… different. The growth was gone. In its place was something just as bizarre: a second heart, perfectly formed and sitting comfortably next to the first.

I stared at the images, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. “How?” was all I managed to say.

The nurse set the charts down and folded her arms. “When you were exposed to the necrophage virus, your body didn’t react like a normal immune person’s. Instead of fighting it off or succumbing to it, your body… evolved. It built that growth to house the virus, to contain it. And then, over time, your body started to metabolize the virus, integrating it into your cells.”

I rubbed my temples, trying to keep up. “So, what? I was a carrier?”

The nurse shook her head. “Not quite. The virus never spread from you like it would from a typical carrier. Instead, it stayed inside that structure. But yesterday, something changed. That growth cracked open. Your body finished… whatever it was doing.”

I felt a cold sweat forming. “What does that mean? Am I a slayer now?”

The nurse tilted her head, studying me like I was some rare specimen. “Honestly? I don’t know what you are,” she admitted. “But here’s what I do know: your body has fully integrated the virus into its DNA. You’ve got new cells—ones I’m calling D-cells, because, well…” She grinned. “Your name’s Daigo. Thought it was fitting.”

I rolled my eyes, but her grin didn’t falter.

“These D-cells are doing things I’ve never seen before,” she continued. “They’re healing you, regulating you, enhancing you. And that second heart? It’s not just an extra organ. It’s part of the whole system now, like your body’s leveling up in ways I can’t fully understand yet. I’ll need to do more tests, but…” She hesitated.

“But what?” I pressed.

She leaned in slightly, her tone turning serious. “Daigo, you’re not human anymore. Not entirely, anyway.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I sat there, letting them sink in.

After a moment, I swung my legs off the cot and stood up, testing my balance. My body felt… different. Stronger. Lighter, even.

The nurse watched me carefully. “Also,” she added with a sly smile, “don’t tell anyone about this. I’m the only one who knows, and honestly? I like you in charge. My boyfriend is a slayer and you make us feel welcome. Don’t want anyone getting ideas.”

I chuckled despite myself. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Just don’t go growing a third heart or sprouting wings, okay?” she teased, already jotting down notes on her clipboard.

I walked out of the infirmary, her words replaying in my mind. Not human anymore.

And yet, as unsettling as that was, a part of me couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for the future.

I barely made it ten steps from the infirmary when I heard hurried footsteps behind me. I turned just as Dahyun came barreling toward me, her eyes wide and shimmering with emotion. Before I could say a word, her arms were around me, clutching me like I was about to disappear.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

“For what?” I asked, startled.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, her hands still gripping my jacket. “For Momo, Sana, and Mina. For bringing them in, for standing up for them. For keeping them safe.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of her gratitude. “Dahyun, they’re survivors. Of course I’m going to protect them.”

She shook her head fiercely. “No, it’s more than that. You didn’t just let them in; you defended them. You treated them like people. You don’t know how rare that is for slayers—how rare that is for us.” Her voice wavered on the last word, and I realized she was trembling.

I placed my hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “Hey, it’s okay. They’re here now. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Her grip on my jacket tightened. “You don’t understand. Do you know what it felt like to see them again? To see their faces after thinking I’d never—” She stopped, her voice catching in her throat.

I waited, giving her the space to collect herself.

“They were my family,” she continued softly. “Before all of this, before the outbreak… we were together. We were everything to each other. And then I lost them. I thought I’d never see them again.”

Her tears spilled over, but she didn’t seem to care. “And now they’re here, alive, because of you.”

I didn’t know what to say. Words felt inadequate, so I did the only thing I could think of: I pulled her into a hug. She buried her face in my chest, her sobs muffled against me.

“You’re safe now,” I said quietly. “All of you.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken between us.

When Dahyun finally pulled back, her expression had shifted. The tears were still there, but her gaze was steady, determined.

“You’re more than just a leader, Daigo,” she said. “You’re… you’re a protector. For all of us.”

I scratched the back of my neck, feeling a little uncomfortable with the intensity of her praise. “I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

She smiled, a mixture of sadness and warmth. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Before I could respond, she leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. It wasn’t romantic—it was more like a gesture of gratitude, of trust.

“Thank you,” she said again, her voice steady now. “For everything.”

Scene: “Two Heartbeats”

As Dahyun hugged me, her head pressed against my chest, I noticed her shift slightly. Her body stiffened, and she pulled back just enough to stare at me, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Wait…” she whispered, her hands pressing gently against my chest. “Daigo…”

I froze. “What is it?”

Her gaze darted to my chest, then back to my face. “I… I felt two heartbeats.”

I tried to play it off, forcing a dry chuckle. “You must be imagining things. Probably the adrenaline—”

“Don’t lie to me,” she interrupted, her tone firm, her eyes narrowing. “Daigo, I know what I felt.”

For a moment, I debated what to say. The nurse’s words about keeping it secret echoed in my mind. I let out a slow breath, keeping my voice calm but firm.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” I said, lowering my voice. “Not a soul. Promise me.”

Dahyun’s eyes widened, but she nodded. “I promise. But… Daigo, what’s going on? What’s happening to you?”

I hesitated, knowing I owed her some explanation. “It’s… complicated. I’ll explain later, okay? Just trust me for now.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded slowly. “Okay. But I’m not letting this go.”

“Fair enough,” I said, offering her a faint smile to ease the tension. “Just… keep it between us.”

She nodded again, reluctantly letting the subject drop, but the concern in her eyes didn’t fade as she walked away.

Scene: “Confrontation”

Later that evening, I was back in my quarters, sprawled on my bed, trying to process everything. My body felt heavier than usual, like my own heartbeat—their rhythm—was a constant reminder that I was no longer the same.

A knock on my door snapped me out of my thoughts. Before I could answer, the door creaked open, and Dahyun and Chodan stepped inside.

I sat up, my instincts telling me this wasn’t a casual visit. “What’s up?”

Chodan folded her arms, her gaze sharp. “Don’t ‘what’s up’ us, Daigo. Dahyun told me.”

I shot Dahyun a look, but she raised her hands defensively. “I didn’t tell her everything! Just… enough. We’re worried about you.”

Chodan stepped closer, her voice softer now. “She said you’ve got two heartbeats. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

I sighed, knowing there was no avoiding this. “Close the door,” I said.

Dahyun obeyed, and both of them sat down on the edge of the bed, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

“I went to the infirmary earlier,” I began. “After I collapsed. The nurse ran some tests… and apparently, I’m not human anymore.”

Both of their eyes widened.

“Not human?” Dahyun echoed.

Chodan leaned forward. “Explain.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the weight of their stares. “The virus… the necrophage or whatever it’s called. It didn’t infect me like it does everyone else. My body ignored it, adapted to it instead. It built this… structure in my chest to house the virus, and eventually, it merged with me on a cellular level.”

Dahyun looked horrified. “So… you’re infected?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Not like that. I’m immune, but the virus evolved inside me. It’s part of me now. My body has these new cells—D-cells, the nurse called them. They heal me, regulate me, even enhance me a little. But when that structure in my chest broke open, it triggered something… different. That’s when the second heart formed.”

Chodan whistled low, sitting back. “Damn. That’s… a lot.”

“You think?” I said dryly.

Dahyun looked at me, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“The nurse told me to keep it secret,” I admitted. “If people find out, it could cause chaos. They already look to me as a leader. If they knew I wasn’t… normal, it could go either way. They’d either worship me like some kind of savior or fear me like a monster. Neither is good for the camp.”

Chodan nodded slowly, processing. “Okay, I get it. But Daigo, you can’t keep this to yourself. If something happens—”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” I cut her off, my tone firmer than I intended. “I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. And for now, the fewer people who know, the better.”

Dahyun hesitated, then reached out to place a hand on mine. “We won’t tell anyone. But you have to promise us something.”

“What?” I asked.

Chodan leaned in, her tone serious. “If anything changes—if you start feeling worse, or different—you come to us. No hiding, no tough-guy act. Deal?”

I looked between them, seeing the genuine concern in their eyes. I nodded. “Deal.”

Dahyun exhaled in relief, and Chodan gave me a faint smirk. “Good. Now get some rest, Vanquisher. You’ve got a camp full of idiots to deal with tomorrow.”

I chuckled despite myself. “Thanks for the reminder.”

As the door clicked shut behind them, I hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Hey… can you two stay the night with me?”

Dahyun and Chodan both turned to me, their eyes widening in surprise. They exchanged a quick glance, silent communication passing between them, before Dahyun gave a small smile and nodded.

“Of course,” she said softly.

“Sure thing, big guy,” Chodan added, her tone teasing but warm.

I felt a small wave of relief as they started settling in. At first, there was some debate about the sleeping arrangement.

“You’re in the middle,” Chodan declared, pointing at me.

Dahyun laughed, shaking her head. “No way. If he’s in the middle, he’ll be too stiff to sleep. I’ll take the middle.”

Chodan raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive,” Dahyun replied, giving her a playful shove.

In the end, Dahyun ended up sandwiched between us. Somehow, it felt… right. Too right.

As we all lay there, I couldn’t help but notice the way their warmth seeped into me, calming a part of my mind that was always on high alert. Their presence, their quiet breathing, the shared comfort—it was disgusting how good it felt.

I slept better that night than I had in years.

The morning light filtered through the cracked blinds, and I woke to find Dahyun already sitting up, her hair slightly mussed as she stretched. Chodan was still sprawled out, half-asleep, but her eyes opened when she noticed me stir.

“Morning,” Dahyun said with a smile, her voice soft and pleasant.

Chodan grinned lazily, propping herself up on an elbow. “You look like you actually slept for once.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I did.”

As I sat up, I glanced between them, both looking so at ease, so… perfect in this moment. My chest tightened with something I couldn’t quite name, and before I could stop myself, the words came out.

“Okay, it’s official. I love both of you.”

The room froze. Dahyun’s cheeks turned a deep red, her lips parting in surprise. Chodan, for once, looked genuinely caught off guard, her usual confidence replaced with wide eyes and a blush creeping up her neck.

“W-What?” Dahyun stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chodan let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of her head. “Well, uh… that’s one hell of a way to start the morning.”

I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling more exposed than I ever had in my life. But I pressed on, because if I didn’t say it now, I might never.

“Listen, I don’t want to hurt either of you,” I said, my voice quieter now. “But I also don’t want to be alone anymore. I… I don’t think I can handle choosing between you. I care about both of you too much.”

They both stared at me for a long moment, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I couldn’t read the room.

Dahyun finally broke the silence, her voice trembling but sincere. “We… we don’t want to hurt you either, Daigo.”

Chodan nodded, her usual bravado replaced with something softer. “Yeah. We get it.”

The tension eased slightly, and I gave them a small, grateful smile. “Thank you. For understanding.”

I stood up, stretching and preparing myself for another day in the chaos outside. “Let’s just take things one step at a time, okay?”

As I headed for the door, I glanced back at them one last time. Dahyun was fiddling with the hem of her shirt, her blush still lingering, while Chodan gave me a look that was equal parts amused and thoughtful.

I stepped outside, the weight of the camp’s problems settling back onto my shoulders. But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel completely alone.

The morning air was crisp, the faint hum of the camp stirring to life all around me. But the moment I stepped into the central yard, I could feel the tension in the air like a cord stretched too tight. Mark, Lisa, and Martin were waiting for me near the supply tent, their expressions carefully neutral. Too carefully neutral.

“Daigo,” Lisa greeted, her voice dripping with faux warmth. “We wanted to have a word with you about some… concerns.”

I stopped a few feet from them, crossing my arms. “Concerns about what?”

Martin stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back like some kind of self-appointed general. “Leadership. We’ve been talking, and we’re worried you might be… overburdened.”

The words were polite, but the tone was anything but.

“Overburdened,” I repeated, my eyes narrowing.

Mark, who had been quiet until now, leaned against a nearby crate, feigning nonchalance. “It’s not personal, Daigo. It’s just… you’re young. This camp needs someone with experience, someone who knows how to make the hard calls.”

I felt a flicker of something at the edge of my vision—something imperceptible to anyone else but clear as day to me. My mind was racing, processing their every movement, every twitch, every glance they cast at each other. Their words didn’t align with their bodies.

Lisa’s arms were crossed tightly, her fingers gripping her elbows like she was holding herself together. Her gaze darted between Mark and Martin when she spoke, looking for approval she didn’t fully trust she’d get.

Martin’s jaw was clenched, his shoulders slightly hunched, as if he were bracing for something. He avoided making eye contact with Mark altogether, his focus squarely on me.

Mark’s relaxed posture was an act, his fingers tapping a subtle rhythm on the crate’s edge. The tapping stopped every time Lisa spoke, only to resume when Martin chimed in.

They weren’t united. Not really.

They weren’t a team; they were a loose coalition of distrust, bound together by their mutual disdain for Slayers—and for me.

“You think I’m ill-suited for leadership,” I said, cutting through whatever diplomatic phrasing they were about to throw at me.

Lisa hesitated, her lips parting as if to argue, but Martin stepped in quickly. “We just think the camp might benefit from a more… collective approach.”

“Right,” I said slowly. “A collective approach where the three of you call the shots.”

Mark smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re not saying that. We just think you’ve got a lot on your plate. You’ve been making some questionable calls, like bringing in more Slayers. It’s upsetting people.”

I tilted my head, my mind still cataloging every twitch and glance. Lisa didn’t agree with Mark’s phrasing; her lips pressed into a thin line when he spoke. Martin didn’t either—his fingers flexed briefly, like he wanted to grab Mark by the collar and shut him up.

They weren’t here for the camp. They were here for themselves.

“You know what I think?” I said, my voice calm, almost conversational.

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“I think the three of you don’t trust each other any more than you trust me,” I said bluntly. “And the only thing keeping you from tearing each other apart is your shared desire for power.”

Their reactions were immediate, though none of them spoke. Lisa’s arms uncrossed, her hands balling into fists. Martin’s shoulders squared, and his mouth opened as if to argue, but I cut him off.

“You think because I’m younger than you, you can manipulate me. Make me doubt myself. Convince me that I’m not capable of leading this camp. But let me tell you something.”

I took a step closer, my voice low but firm.

“I’ve seen what fear and desperation do to people. I’ve seen what happens when you let ambition cloud your judgment. This camp doesn’t need more politicians. It needs people who are willing to get their hands dirty. People who put survival over ego.”

Lisa took a step back, her confidence faltering. Mark’s smirk disappeared entirely, replaced by a tight-lipped glare. Martin, for all his posturing, looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“I don’t trust you,” I said plainly. “Not because you disagree with me, but because I see through you. And if you think you can divide this camp, undermine me, or turn people against each other, let me make one thing clear: I won’t let that happen.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Are we done here?” I asked, my tone making it clear the conversation was over.

Lisa opened her mouth, then closed it, glaring at me like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Mark and Martin exchanged a glance, their earlier bravado now replaced with unease.

“Yeah,” Martin finally muttered, his voice lacking the confidence it had earlier. “We’re done.”

They turned and walked away, their uneasy silence speaking louder than any argument could have.

Lust’s voice slid into my thoughts before I even saw her.

“Brooding doesn’t suit you, Daigo.”

I turned and found her leaning against a pole, arms crossed, watching me like I was some puzzle she’d already figured out. Lust always had this effortless confidence about her, like she knew exactly where she stood and where everyone else didn’t.

“Lust,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “What do you want?”

She tilted her head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Saw you dealing with the Three Stooges over there. Figured I’d save you before your brain melted from their bullshit.”

I huffed out a faint laugh despite myself. “Thanks, but I’m good. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

She pushed off the pole and took a slow step forward, her smirk fading into something more serious. “Alright, then. Let’s cut to the chase. We need to talk about the Slayers’ place in this camp.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, but I kept my face blank. “Go on.”

She gestured around us with a sweep of her arm. “This camp is crumbling, Daigo. You can feel it, can’t you? The survivors are scared of us. Some of them outright hate us. And those three idiots you just dealt with? They’re not going to stop until they take control. They see us as a threat—something they can’t predict, something they can’t control.”

“They’re wrong,” I said firmly.

“Of course they are,” she shot back with a shrug. “But what does that matter? What matters is perception. And right now, we’re the monsters under their beds, the things keeping them up at night.”

I folded my arms, trying to keep my frustration in check. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” she said, stepping closer, “is that maybe it’s time for us to move on.”

Her words threw me off balance. “You’re suggesting the Slayers leave the camp?”

“Not all of us,” she clarified. “But yeah, most of us. Think about it, Daigo. We’re stronger, faster, harder to kill. We don’t need the same resources they do. Half of them are terrified every time we walk past. We could be more useful out there—clearing zones, securing supplies, doing what we do best—without dragging this camp deeper into its own mess.”

I clenched my jaw, my thoughts racing. She wasn’t wrong. The tension between the Slayers and the regular survivors had been growing for weeks. Still, leaving? That felt like giving up.

“And what about the people here?” I asked. “The ones who rely on us? The ones who see us as hope?”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, she dropped the smirk she always wore like armor. “You think I don’t care about them? I do. But you can’t save everyone, Daigo. And if we stay here too long, we’re just going to make things worse—for them and for us.”

Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit. I looked away, staring at the horizon as doubts churned in my mind. “And where would we go?”

“That’s the thing about Slayers, isn’t it?” she said, her voice quieter now. “We don’t belong anywhere. We carve out a place for ourselves, or we die trying.”

I let her words sink in, the weight of them pressing down on my shoulders. She wasn’t wrong, but leaving wasn’t a decision I could make lightly.

“You’re not wrong,” I admitted, finally breaking the silence. “But I can’t make this decision on a whim.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she said, her tone softer now. “You’re the leader. It’s your call. But think about it—for all our sakes.”

She turned to leave but paused and glanced back over her shoulder, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve got a good heart, Daigo. Even if you’ve got two of them now.”

A few days later, I woke up to chaos. Shouting, pounding on my door—it felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. Still half-asleep, I fumbled for my gauntlets and boots, instinct kicking in. Before I could even ask what was happening, the door slammed open, and a tide of bodies surged into my quarters.

They were on me before I could process anything. Arms grabbed at me, forcing my weapons from my hands. I swung once, twice, but there were too many. Too many voices, too many hands pulling me down. My head was spinning, and the shouts all blurred together until they were just noise.

“Traitor.” “Unfit.” “You’ve failed us.”

I heard bits and pieces, but none of it made sense. The more I struggled, the tighter they held me, their grip like iron as they dragged me out into the open. The morning sun was too bright, and the cold bit into my skin as if punishing me for something I didn’t even understand.

I tried to speak, but no one was listening. I stumbled as they pushed me forward, my boots scraping against the ground. The gauntlets weighed heavy on my wrists, my only connection to the strength I once thought I had.

They forced me past the camp’s main gates. My camp. The place I’d fought to protect. The people I’d bled for. And now, I was being tossed out like I was nothing.

The crowd gathered, a sea of faces filled with contempt, distrust, and apathy. No one spoke for me. No one stood in my defense.

Mark stood at the front, smug as ever, his voice carrying over the noise like a judge pronouncing a sentence. “You were a fool to think you could lead this place. You were never cut out for it. Now, get out.”

I clenched my fists, the leather of my gauntlets creaking under the strain. “You think this will end well for you?” My voice sounded weak even to me, the weight of it all pressing down.

Mark just smirked. “It’s not about you anymore.”

With that, he shoved me hard, sending me stumbling into the dirt. Behind me, the gates slammed shut, the echo like a final punctuation to the betrayal.

For a moment, I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My chest felt hollow, like someone had reached in and pulled out whatever kept me standing all this time. My gauntlets and boots—the only things they’d left me—felt like relics of a life I no longer belonged to.

I got to my feet eventually, numb and directionless, and started walking. Each step away from the camp felt heavier than the last. The cold air stung my face, but I didn’t bother wiping the tears that streaked my cheeks. They froze against my skin like scars.

By the time I reached my old safe house, I felt like a ghost, moving on autopilot. My motorcycle sat there, still as I’d left it, a reminder of a time when I thought I was building something good. I climbed on, gripping the handlebars, and kicked it to life.

I drove for hours, the road stretching endlessly ahead of me. California disappeared in the rearview mirror, replaced by the barren landscapes of Arizona. At a checkpoint, a guard asked for my name and my race.

“Daigo,” I said, my voice dry. “And I’m a Vanquisher.”

The guard laughed. “Well, you’re definitely not a zombie. Too funny for that.”

I forced a chuckle, but it felt hollow.

Eventually, I found myself in Colorado. The air was quiet there, too quiet. There were no zombies, no people, no purpose. Just me and my thoughts. I settled into a rhythm: work, eat, sleep. Repeat.

But the loneliness clawed at me. Nights were the worst. I’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking of Dahyun, Chodan, my ducklings. The camp. Even the ones who betrayed me. I missed them all, and the ache never went away.

Twenty-eight days passed like that. I told myself I was healing, but really, I was just surviving. Then I heard the news: a new group of slayers was moving into the area. I didn’t think much of it until I saw their vehicles rolling in.

The sight of familiar license plates made my chest tighten. I sat on my porch, sipping fruit punch, watching them unload. It was all too familiar. Too close to home.

Then I heard their voices. Two voices I’d know anywhere.

“Do you hear that?” “Yeah, it sounds like someone on this block has two hearts.”

I froze, my drink forgotten, and stood. When I saw them—Chodan and Dahyun—my heart felt like it might break all over again. They turned, and when they saw me, Chodan’s eyes welled up with tears as she rushed forward to hug me.

“Hey, big guy,” Dahyun said, her voice soft but steady.

I tried to smile, but it faltered when I saw the two men behind them. Slayers, obviously, their postures protective as they approached. My heart sank as Chodan and Dahyun introduced them—boyfriends.

I nodded, polite and distant, the ache in my chest threatening to swallow me whole. “Daigo,” I said, offering a handshake. “Just an old friend.”

They smiled, the moment slipping through my fingers like sand, and left me standing there.

As I walked back into my empty house, I felt the weight of my exile all over again. Even now, even here, I was still on the outside looking in.

#kpop fanfic #twice fanfic #qwer chodan #twice dahyun #qwer fanfic #zombie au

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authoratmidnight · 2 months ago

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Unfortunately I have robots on the brain + a love for a good heel face turn.

So fuck it, Knock Out/Break Down defection.

It starts with Breakdown getting abducted by M.E.C.H. and Megatron writing him off as dead/not worth saving. After all, he let *humans8 get the drop on him, whatever happens is his own fault.

Knock Out is appalled and rightly so. They're just, gonna abandon one of their own? He's not a flier tho so going to rescue Breakdown himself is not going to be fast.

Which means that when the Autobots end up rescuing him, there is no Decepticons to show up. No one ever arrives to save him. Only his enemies.

And by the time Knock Out *does* show up, there's no one there. No Breakdown, no Autobots, no M.E.C.H. and he has to return dejected and empty handed. And worse, no one seems to care. (this also means he has no idea of Breakdown's fate, is he alive? dead?)

So they drag him back to the base so Ratchet can patch him up cause he is in rough shape mind you. And it is just, weird all around.

On the Autobots' side of things is the glaring fact that there is a Decepticon in their base. He's not trying to kill them but like, he IS there. It's so weird.

On Breakdown's side it's the fact that his enemy is helping him, providing him aid. That his enemy seems to care more about him than his own comrades. And of course, watching how they interact with each other, with Optimus is eye opening. The differences between them is startling.

The rest of the Autobots do respect Optimus but they don't live in fear of him, not how they do around Megatron. He's not scary, he doesn't yell lose his temper at them, he doesn't strike them and break things. He's, nice.

And while they banter with each other and sometimes argue, it's never mean spirited or cruel.

He stays there for a bit to recover and he starts to wonder, what he should do? He can't possibly go back to the Decepticons, they'd never take him back, especially after this. But, it's clearly not safe to be out on his own given that M.E.C.H. is out there and what they did to him.

So he does the almost unthinkable. Asks if he would be allowed to stay with them for now. Just while he decides what he wants to do. If he has to stay in the base then he will. They decide to allow it because well, he hasn't really done anything to them thus far.

Trying to interact with them is so awkward though, and he spends most of his time doing essentially grunt work around the base. The first one to speak to him and extend a hand is Bulkhead. They are rivals after all and Bulkhead is the only one he has a prior history with. It's so weird not trying to punch each other out, even if Bulkhead says they can go for another round at a later time and he will kick his tailpipe.

(the whole time Knock Out is moping and feeling disheartened cause he just wants his guy back)

Eventually, the Autobots do sort of warm up to Breakdown. When he's not punching them out he's not really so bad.

At some point, he goes out on a mission with Bulkhead (listen, he's recovered and he can't stay inside all the time, he's going stir crazy, and if anyone can handle him it's Bulkhead). And leaving the shielded protection of the base alerts the Decepticons that he is alive, cause they have his life signal again.

And Knock Out is not taking no for an answer on going to find him. He'll piggy back on Starscream or the Seekers if he must.

Cue a VERY dramatic meeting of Knock Out and Breakdown, made all the more tense and dramatic given that he's in the company of an Autobot and NOT trying to fight him. Naturally, Knock Out tries to convince him to go back, and it IS tempting, if only cause going back means Knock Out is there. But he can't exactly guarantee that Breakdown won't be punished for, all this, so he has to decline.

Insert a moment of him really showing which side he's on (perhaps not even consciously) when he protects Bulkhead from another Vehicon or something. Bulkhead is shook cause a part of him was expecting Breakdown to go with Knock Out. this doe sin fact help endear him a bit more to the Autobots.

But now, Knock Out knows that Breakdown is alive. And by the Allspark he WILL be reunited with his partner one way or another. Of course, he can't contact him, he's shielded by the autobot base. But he does leave it from time to time, and then he can pick up his signal. Ofc he keeps this a secret b/c once it came to light that Breakdown was siding with the autobots he was marked as a traitor. No one talks about him anymore, and they certainly aren't gonna try and bring him back.

He absolutely is plotting ways to get out and meet with him/contact him, to at the very least just talk with him. And eventually somehow he does. Catches Breakdown when he's out alone (or at least, the bot he went out with is not in the immediate vicinity to be seen). And it's tense and emotional. Cause Breakdown is still deeply hurt that no one but his (former) enemies came to save him. Makes a bot think. Knock Out swears he did try to come, he was the only one that wanted to.

The conversation is interrupted when whichever Autobot was with him comes back and Knock Out books it. Even if he wanted to leave with Breakdown, there's some thing he needs to take care of on The Nemesis (basically purging any files regarding either of them/deleting them from the database so they can't be tracked anymore).

Which he does do and has to beat one hell of a hasty retreat when Soundwave catches on and alerts the others as to what he's doing. This is effectively his point of no return. He ground bridges out, with Cons on his tail. And calls to Breakdown for a rescue (I'm thinking, before they parted on their last meeting he gave him some kind of communicator or something).

Breakdown is quite surprised when he does get a distress call from Knock Out, who is currently running for his damn life cause if they catch him they will kill him. And frankly he does like living.

Breakdown DOES end up going to get him, by plugging the coordinates he got into the ground bridge and bridging out (he's watched Ratchet AND Knock Out do this, he knows how to do it). Which also means the Autobots are chasing after him cause dude what the hell??

They do manage to find Knock Out, still running for his life. And Breakdown is gonna bring him back even if they complain (also he may or may not be wounded, I haven't decided yet, tho wounded would be some fun :p)

So now the Autobots have TWO Decepticons in their base and boy is it weird. Also now they gotta explain this to Optimus (who more just wants to know why Breakdown went behind his back, you could have asked bro. (Better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission I suppose).

Also explaining this to the humans. Breakdown was one thing but Knock Out? oof.

(Knock Out has some second thought upon meeting the humans b/c oh NO they're everywhere and gonna get their grimey weird hands all over him and yes ok he knows his alt mode is sick as hell but NO they can't go for a spin in him! Someone help!)

It would, imo, be a really funny dynamic. Also Knock Out has dirt on the Cons I'm sure. He is a petty bitch

(The second amusing option I had for getting Knock Out there was finding him while out on a mission, maybe after he sneakily purged what needed to be purged, and he just goes 'well, if I'm not being invited back, I guess you'll have to take me prisoner?' and Breakdown just rolls his eyes and "apprehends" him and brings him back. Literally no one is buying this at all lol)

Part fix it fic, part heel face turn, all totally shameless KOBD lol

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #knock out/breakdown #knock out #breakdown #kobd #maccadam #i may just write this myself but i gotta finish my Smokescreen fic first haha #i had to google what ya'll call this ship #i was sure there was some kind of ship name #i love a good heel face turn #i call this one 'leaving your toxic work environment'

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popponn · 1 year ago

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so what if you are michael kaiser's ex. like just one of many, the one that broke up with him a year ago. the catch is that despite hating this guy's guts, somehow you always ends up meeting him again at least 3 times a month. 20 times, if you are particularly unlucky that month.

your friend drags you to a party? bam, kaiser is there—with a new date. a job meeting with someone in the cafe? wow kaiser is sitting two tables away. you got lost in some big city in another country with your phone battery dying? would you look at that—it's kaiser.

and, probably the worst part, it isn't as if kaiser isn't also sick of you. he is probably your #1 hater at this point. gone was the charming bad boy from the first date and only a bitter ex is left.

the funny part is that this particular bitter ex is one that accompanies you in the party when your friend left you ("my date gets boring," he said); one that looks ready to punch a guy and helps you when your client turns out to be an asshole ("why did i help you?" he parrots your question. "if i ignored that it will just be worse for me in the way that i don't want it to be."); and the one who makes sure you reach your hotel safely ("idiots like you need pity to stay alive.")

the one that doesn't want any present he gave to you returned, but also the one who scoffs whenever you ask "Why?" or "Why the fuck?"

(if kaiser is also one that couldn't swallow his pride to ask you back, that's for everyone except you to know.)

(and if you still never date anyone after breaking up with him that's your own problem and no one else's.)

i have been itching to write ex!kaiser since like. idk. last month?? a bit tempted to also include the 'we knew each other too long to cut each other off' trope, but that's for another time. he is enough of a complicated asshole already. so it's just 'exes who still clearly have feeling for each other' + 'exes who acts like sworn enemy' with a pinch of 'everyone knows and are sick of them' trope. this dude and this idea is hilarious to me because like he is kind of a himedere in my head, but he is so interesting and not just t h a t in a very 'i want to punch him' way. but anyway very brainrot but this guy, i believe, despite his narcissistic tendencies and all his self centered issues, seems like someone who will love deeply when it came for the one™. like dude is like that with soccer, the capital c commitment is strong. it's just reaching that stage that's hard, because he is also capital a asshole.

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #bllk x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #bllk kaiser #michael kaiser #blurbs #fic ideas #for later again #probably soon because this one seems shorter if written but hey #who knows. kaiser is full of surprise #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #maybe one day soon

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4ng3l-shortc4k3 · 2 months ago

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Cw: yandere behavior, murder, cannibalism(?), mentions of mating

Okay enough Solomon talk I want to introduce a yandere who lives near the bottom of the ocean. Sounds crazy right? Yeah well so is he and his name is Nen. He's a sea serpent and he would most likely meet you on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere

He'll be mean to you at first mostly because he doesn't understand why you're being so awful to him. He literally saved you and you can't even thank him?? That's being selfish! At least to him it is. Then its only a matter of time where he softens you up with how nice he is that you'll end up wanting to stay

He's a yandere in the sense that he'll kidnap you thinking you're in trouble or something, drag you down in his underwater kingdom, and trap you there without a form of leaving. But its okay because he promises he'll help you!! And by helping he means distracting you with the tempting promises of what he has to offer so you'll never leave.

At least you're able to breathe underwater because of him draining all the water inside the castle so now everyone is forced to use their more humane forms rather than their animalistic ones they were used to. It doesn't help that you are the reason Nen starts changing the castle around to where it fits your mortal body's needs better than the rest. He'd neglect his people in order to make you happy which doesn't do wonders to your guilty conscience

Except he's also terribly clingy to you. You will be followed everywhere you go. You'll sit on his lap, you'll sleep in his bed, and he will get jealous of everyone and anyone who dares to talk to you. But here's the kicker he won't do anything about it because of how happy you are and he can't ruin that

So he'll bid his time mostly doing his best to keep you with him close by. He doesn't mind when you make friends with the servants just stop trying to flirt with them! He'll even let you have your own room if you at least stop your behavior before he ends up eating- I mean firing the staff members

When you start having feelings for Nen he would be overjoyed and he'll celebrate with you. Yet he doesn't understand how relationships work much less mating. He's been alive for thousands upon thousands of years ruling his precious kingdom yet never figured out how to have sex with someone so you're going to have to teach him yourself

He's also very capable of being aloof most of the time. He'd be so happy being in your arms despite quite literally being way taller than you that he'll forget vital information for when you two start properly courting. He'd forget so often about such important things that when you get upset with him he'll end up begging for your forgiveness. Its not easy especially when he gets too upset because he'll transform into this big and scary sea serpent just like when you first met him

When like this its best to evacuate with the others because he will start destroying the castle often times eating the unlucky servants and guards who weren't able to escape on time. He doesn't mean to make a mess but you simply wouldn't forgive him and he couldn't help it. It was a poor excuse especially when he tells you that he can't control himself when highly emotional but there was nothing you could do about it even if you did end up believing his ridiculous excuse

But in the end you'll forgive him anyways and he'll be back to his silly himbo nature of not understanding every innuendo you throw his way. Or how he doesn't understand modern things. Did I mention he's a very traditional guy? But he'll break the rules for you in a heartbeat so it really isn't all that bad. As long as you could handle the eating and the accidental tantrums then truly you're in a perfect undersea paradise where you are more of the king than the queen. Not like Nen would mind you taking his role in the first place when he's so busy idolizing you all the time

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #bottom male character #oc x reader #top male reader #yandere oc

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flightfoot · 2 months ago

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Any fic recs of Adrien dealing with the fallout of finding out his dad is hawkmoth?

Oh yeah, this is a popular plotline and tends to lead to some great fics!

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Bubblegum Soul by @wehadabondingmoment

"The impulse to throw away his ring, to slam it on the ground and watch its metallic splinters chap away at his soul, got more tempting by the second. Maybe, for a moment, he would learn what it meant to be alive." (Or: Hawk Moth has been defeated and Adrien is suffering more than ever. Armed with unhealthy coping mechanisms and the knowledge that he apparently isn't human, he embarks on a journey of self-discovery.) (Except that his father isn't quite ready to give up just yet.)

Poor Adrien. His father's defeated, but that doesn't mean that he's alright. Dealing with finding out that he's a sentimonster via his father attempting to order him around... that's harsh.

And it doesn't help that while he gets one ring back pretty quickly, he doesn't realize that he has a second amok...

If you like angsty sentiadrien fic, this'll be right up your alley! It's M-rated, but I'm not sure why. Maybe because Adrien's just kind of in a bad headspace?

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Disintegrated Pancakes by @scribeofrhapsody

Adrien had started expecting the family breakfasts. He had NOT been expecting his father to collapse in the middle of one.

I’m shocked I haven’t seen more of this sort of thing, with Adrien finding out his father’s Monarch via seeing the Cataclysm wound. I love that Alya gets involved in this, being the person Adrien runs into after fleeing the room, and then Adrien getting to talk things out with Gabriel and Nathalie. Thankfully Gabriel is at least not completely incapable of being reasoned with here, or things could have gone worse than they did. It’s a nice little read, though with an ambiguous ending (at least at the time when I write this).

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all of your flaws and all of my flaws (are laid out one-by-one) by @coffeebanana

Ladybug and Marinette have both been acting strangely since Monarch’s defeat, and Chat Noir would give anything to know why—to be able to help them. He just…didn’t expect his answers to come when Ladybug drags him to his father’s statue in the middle of the night along with a bag full of spray paint.

If you felt unsatisfied with Adrien being left in the dark about Monarch, with Ladybug lying about Gabriel being a hero, this is a great fic to read. Marinette’s breaking down keeping this secret, seeing people treat Gabriel as the hero she told people he was, until she finally snaps and has to do SOMETHING, has to tell SOMEONE the truth.

Which Chat takes pretty well! He knows how persuasive his father could be, and he’s mostly just relieved at finally hearing someone say that Gabriel wasn’t a hero. It’s still a lot to cope with though.

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Of Crisp Days and Crispier Cakes by @scribeofrhapsody

Gabriel wants to not be sick. Adrien wants to make a cake. Nathalie wants a chill birthday. Maybe they can help each other. Maybe it’ll be a disaster.

So this starts off as just the cute fluff fic of Adrien and Gabriel attempting to make Nathalie a birthday cake that the summary indicates, but soon evolves into a more action-filled drama fic when Gabriel makes the terrible decision to akumatize a cashier while sick… a cashier who happens to be in the same shop as Nathalie and Adrien. Who are willing to put their secret identities at risk in order to save each other.

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After Irritation Do Us Start by @scribeofrhapsody

It was the most difficult decision of his life, but Gabriel did it. He let go of Hawk Moth. He moved on from Emilie. Now, all he wants is to enjoy life with his son and new wife. Unfortunately, a certain nephew of his seems to be determined to unearth what Gabriel needs to remain buried.

I love this look at what could have happened if during the season 3 finale, Gabriel had decided enough was enough and given up on being a supervillain, moving on with Nathalie instead. How much better things could have been if he’d just decided to stop - though Adrien still wouldn’t be happy to discover why Hawk Moth had suddenly stopped attacking.

Oh yeah, there’s an OC here called Gerald who Adrien’s puzzled by, since he’d never heard of this guy before the past year. At the end of the story you find out why he’s included in the story. It’s not a major thing, but it is kind of funny and fits well with the rest of the story.

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Family by @unecoccinellenoire

“You know,” Nino grins, “if you need advice on being a big brother in a year or two I’m sure I could help.” The bottom of Adrien’s stomach dropped out. — Adrien struggles with the concept of his father and Nathalie having children.

So this is a world where Adrien and Marinette managed to defeat Gabriel, taking his Miraculous, with them giving him an ultimatum: they won’t out him as being Hawk Moth so long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble and does right by Adrien. Gabriel does, in fact, move on finally to Nathalie, giving Adrien a lot of mixed feelings to deal with. He still loves them both despite everything, but he’s also angry at them and he definitely does NOT want them to have children, both because he thinks they’d like any biological child they had more (he’s also harboring guilt from indirectly being the cause of his mom’s death), and because frankly, they screwed up too much with Adrien for him to want them to inflict that on another child.

And then there’s also Adrien dealing with the realization that he’s a Senti on top of that and wondering why he and Felix look the way they do, what Emilie’s reasons were.

It’s mostly just Adrien getting to talk things out, navigating this emotionally fraught situation he finds himself in now that the dust is settled.

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and I thought I heard you sing by @into-september

When Hawkmoth has been defeated and unmasked, Marinette is left with two problems and no solutions. First, that Adrien is further out of her reach than ever before, and no-one can tell her how to get to him. Second, that Cat Noir is far more troubled than she knew, and the only thing she can do is wait for him at the place they agreed to meet.

It’s your classic “Hawkmoth’s defeated and taken into custody but that means Adrien’s in for a rough time” sort of fic. Everyone’s worried about Adrien and wants to give him what comfort and support that they can, but he’s being hidden away from everyone (which I mean, honestly that’s a good move), so that’s not really possible. Plus, Ladybug’s noticed that Chat’s having a tough time in his civilian life, which worries her.

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If only I could break free by megetstoread

It started with Adrien being upset about going away, but led to a lot of revelations.

Another Sentiadrien fic here! After telling Adrien that he’s being sent to London, Gabriel takes advantage of Adrien being distraught to akumatize him. Luckily Ladybug’s right there and deakumatizes him before he can even do anything, but it shakes both her and Chat, leading to her allowing him to tell her a lot more about his home life than usual, and for her and Adrien to investigate to see whether there might be more to Adrien’s inability to stand against his father than just psychological abuse.

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The Parable of the Caller by @nemaliwrites

A week after Hawk Moth’s identity has been revealed, Adrien finds himself with nowhere to go, nothing he can do, and worst of all, strange gaps in his memory he can’t explain. In a stroke of luck, he stumbles upon a burner phone filled with voicemails from one of the Saviors of Paris: Chat Noir himself, who disappeared following Hawk Moth’s arrest.

But with each new voicemail Adrien listens to, he’s forced to confront the fact that there might be some kind of connection between himself and Chat Noir — and discovering it might leave him more broken than before.

I absolutely adore this fic, it’s a fantastic character study for Adrien! Basically in this universe, Ladybug and Chat Noir talked about who should be Guardian, with Chat eventually convincing her that he should be the one to take it on, primarily due to the whole “the Guardian gets amnesia about Miraculous-related matters” situation, and wanting to protect Ladybug from that. Then he finds out Gabriel is Hawk Moth, they take him down, and he relinquishes the Miracle Box and his guardianship to Su Han - all without having a Reveal with Ladybug, since well, he’s not in the greatest shape mentally at the time.

It’s a real treat to see Adrien’s thoughts and feelings about one of the Heroes of Paris leaving him all these voicemails, treating him like this close friend for reasons he doesn’t understand, and just seeing Chat Noir as this outside person. He’s got a very different viewpoint on Chat when looking from the outside than he would from the inside, with being able to see his heroic and good qualities far more easily when he doesn’t know that he is Chat.

Also Marinette’s struggling in the background of the fic with the loss of her partner and guilt over sending Adrien’s father to prison. It gets touched on at various points, and you can tell that she’s having her own story off to the side that we’re just not entirely privy to, what with this tale being told entirely from Adrien’s perspective.

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drowning (in plain sight) by @buggachat

Everybody had expected Monarch's defeat to be a moment of triumph. Nobody had expected Gabriel Agreste, unmasked and mind frayed from continual abuse of the miraculous, crying out to all who would listen and making Paris certain of one thing:

His son, Adrien Agreste, is one of his sentimonsters.

And now he's missing.

Nobody can find him— not even the superheroes, and not even his closest friends. But Marinette, Nino, and Alya aren't ones to give up so easily. They'll find him, no matter what it takes.

(But, geez, would it kill Chat Noir to lend a hand?)

I’m sure everyone saw this one coming. If there’s one thing buggachat’s good at, storywise, it’s capturing raw, tumultuous emotions, frantic breakdowns as the characters desperately try to navigate bad situations. This was a real treat to read, as I’m betting most people reading this will agree, given just how popular the fic has been. It also has a ton of fanart, both by buggachat and by random fans, if you go looking for it (there’s a drowning in plain sight tag which I’d advise perusing).

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Not a Monster at All by @book-sandwich

Adrien Agreste overhears a conversation he shouldn't, and a revelation sends him falling onto the terrace of the only person he can trust: his good friend (?) Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Takes place sometime after the first two episodes of season 5!

As you can probably guess from the title, this is a Sentimonster Adrien, Monarch takedown fic. Adrien’s going through a tough time, and Marinette’s just trying to be there for him as his whole world’s collapsing around him. Unfrotunately, they still don’t know what the object is, or how likely Gabriel would be to control Adrien if he hinted that he knew the truth, which leaves Adrien in a precarious position - still not having done an identity reveal doesn’t help matters.

It’s a really solid fic for the genre, though since it started up before the later parts of season 5, there are a few things that don’t match up with the canon information we obtained later on.

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Under Oath by @eoscenes

In the aftermath of Hawk Moth's defeat, Ladybug finds her heart torn between her schoolgirl crush and her superhero partner ― who returns, after an unexplained hiatus, more irresistible than ever.

⋆☆⋆

Gabriel Agreste is unmasked, and Paris rises up in the aftermath.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng must weather Paris' anxious protesters, ravenous reporters, a scattered team of judiciary investigators, and her conflicting feelings for two different boys. In the eye of this storm is the elusive Adrien Agreste, the primary witness in his own father's trial, who might just hold the secret to finding the Peacock Miraculous.

(If only she wasn't in love with him.)

Meanwhile, locked away in Le Grand Paris hotel, Adrien grapples with his responsibilities to a city that can't decide if it hates or loves him. Keeping his daytime persona and Chat Noir separate entities becomes even harder when Ladybug, whom he has finally decided to get over, starts visiting him at night, determined to figure his secrets out.

(If only he wasn't in love with her.)

When an unknown figure returns with the Peacock Miraculous, Ladybug and Chat Noir will have to save their city once more — or lose each other trying.

I love how this fic shows Adrien just breaking down over the reveal of Hawk Moth’s identity, he’s in a Very Bad Place for a substantial portion of the fic, and being a suspect and witness in the case does NOT help. It’s got the most detailed “Adrien suffering the consequences of the backlash to his father’s prosecution” plot that I’ve seen.

Still, things get better with time, slowly, gradually. It’s not all at once, or a completely linear road, but he’s got his friends, even after everything.

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run boy run by Anonymous

Nino was sprawled on the floor of his room with Alya when his phone chimed, in the quiet of a premature autumnal sunset. It was one of those lazy evenings that had become rare lately. Contrary to popular belief, he and Alya could get studying done when in the same room, and he was elbows-deep in late assignments, which meant his phone was on Do Not Disturb, which meant the notification could only have come from one person. ADRIEN 🐈: cmoe ove rnow ADRIEN 🐈: like riggt now ADRIEN 🐈: plag NINO: that is literally incomprehensible NINO: wait is that you plagg ADRIEN 🐈: mov faster

So this is a “Adrien finds out that his father is Hawkmoth and consults with Nino about what to do” fic, with Nino throwing Hawkmoth off Adrien’s track, though inadvertently at his own expense. Love Nino’s perspective here, and I always enjoy a good Hawkmoth-takedown fic!

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When the Morning Comes by @into-september

Gabriel Agreste has been unmasked as Hawkmoth, and the girl who was fighting him all these years turns out to be Tom Dupain's daughter. And standing between them is Adrien Agreste with his life in shatters that Tom Dupain has no way of piecing together. But baking is at least a place to start.

I love how this not only digs into Adrien’s character, but Tom’s as well, especially how both of them have been estranged from their fathers. I haven’t seen that come up much.

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missing person (at the window) by @coffeebanana

Adrien expected to spend another night staring at the ceiling and ignoring his friends' messages, as he'd done every night since his father was unmasked as Shadow Moth. But when Ladybug falls through his bedroom window, he gets a little more than he bargained for.

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This Distance Between Us by @coffeebanana

After defeating Monarch, the search for the Peacock Miraculous brings Ladybug and Chat Noir to a hotel room in London. But it's hard to enjoy the victory when Ladybug can't figure out why Chat's been so quiet, why he seems so sad. How's she supposed to help if she has no idea what's wrong?

This is a great Sentiadrien fic, with Chat freaking out about it and feeling like he’s not worthy of Ladybug’s affections, but not telling her what’s actually wrong because he thinks she won’t want him anymore if she knows. Of course, he’s wrong about that. Also there’s a pretty intense confrontation with Felix, pissing Chat Noir off is a bad idea.

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Waiting series by @11jj11

First fic: Waiting

Every night Ladybug sat atop the Eiffel Tower, waiting for her partner.

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Temporary Place To Stay by walkingonthestars

Caline Bustier hears the news. Caline Bustier worries about her student, whose father has just been exposed as Hawk Moth and arrested. Caline Bustier impulsively takes in said student. Caline Bustier does not know the half of what she's just gotten into.

#adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #ask #ml fanfic rec #miraculous ladybug

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starlost97 · 11 months ago

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— last.

summary: You and Arthur were exactly like each other. And as much as this could be good, it was also a problem. (based on the song "cowboy like me" by Taylor Swift)

tags: fluff, personal favorite, Arthur Leclerc is a player, Reader is a player, based on a Taylor Swift song, f!reader.

characters: Arthur Leclerc.

warnings: none.

a/n: i'm actually SO proud of this one. like really proud.

word count: 650.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

People said that you and Arthur were the perfect match. Two people with a terrible reputation, never going to their own home after night outs and neverending dating rumors.

However, people didn’t understand it. How could you trust someone so similar to you? You knew very well how untrustworthy you were when it came to love. Always giving out a fake number, leaving before they wake up and not saying anything too personal.

Arthur was exactly like that. Just like you.

But there was something different about him. About his kiss. Sometimes slow, but sometimes so passionate. So torturous but so addicting. You couldn’t get enough of it, and Arthur wished that he couldn’t say the same.

The ghost of your lips on his, the memory of your warmth against his body and the feeling of having you in his arms was something that didn’t stop haunting him since your first night together.

It wasn’t something that he could explain. Not one of his friends could comprehend the effect that you had on Arthur. He knew very well how bad it could go. How you could destroy him.

But as in the myth of Icarus, he couldn’t help but go directly into the sun. The beauty of freedom to him, and the temptation of diving into true love to Arthur.

And if he did fall, it would be in love. He just didn’t know if he would end up in hell.

But hell wouldn't sound so lovely.

As your voice echoed around the room and that heavenly voice brought butterflies to his stomach, he smiled. He could never get used to it. To listening to your voice. To being with you. To you.

“But I said, ‘Dancing is a dangerous game’.”

Arthur’s smile turned into a smirk as he remembered the countless nights they spent dancing. Not only in parties, events, but also alone in each other’s places, being illuminated only by the street lights that invaded their apartments.

God, he loved having his hands on you. Guiding your body to the rhythm of the song and feeling your smile against his lips when he squeezed her waist.

It drove him crazy. Everything about you was maddening. How could you be so perfect? So tempting? So addicting?

Self-preservation left his body and it seemed like it was never there. Vulnerability never gave him comfort, but there was something so erotic about being exposed to you. To someone who could do anything to him, from destroying to making him the happiest man alive. God, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter.

Your beauty was enough to make him want to watch you do anything. He would’ve loved to be destroyed by you, watch as your pretty little mind created the most perfect of plans to manipulate him.

You for sure had what was necessary to do it. He was completely — and happily — vulnerable.

“Now you hang from my lips,” You sang, looking Arthur in the eyes. “like the Gardens of Babylon.”

Uncertainty. He wanted to take that away from you, but still, there was something beautiful about choosing to trust. All the stakes were against him, but yet, the overwhelming passion was enough to make you vulnerable to him. And that was very much an honor to him.

He was honored to have you entirely.

When you finished the song, Arthur waited for you to come to him, as you always did after the shows. He watched as your figure became clearer, and how the long green dress complimented your skin.

You smiled at him, and that alone could’ve killed him.

“I couldn’t have expressed us in any better way, darling.” He said, pulling you into his lap and looking into your eyes. “You’re my only true love, and also my last.”

You were the only experience of true love that Arthur ever had, and he’ll keep it that way.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #fluff #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc #taylor swift song

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rea-grimm · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, I hope you are well. Once again, one of your faithful followers (Luffy Dragon fan 💖) comes with a new request (if you can, obviously).

the last chapter of op made me realize that Sanji ignores and is less gentlemanly towards women who show signs of liking him. I wonder if we can get something where the reader is obviously in love with Sanji (corpse of the boyfriend) and he is completely indifferent or clueless about it, while following his behavior in love with other girls and being a great "dude, look what you have in front of you" "

xo ♥️ congratulations on the 2500 likes

Hi, I had quite tought week, but I’m better now. Hope you are well too. I’m happy to hear from you. You have really good request. ❤️

Hope you enjoy this.

Dude, look what you have in front of you- Corpse Sanji

You were head over heels in love with Sanji. Everyone on board knew it, but the only cook was completely blind to you. Yes, he treated you almost the same way he treated Nami or Robin. Although sometimes you had the impression that he took you more for granted. As a sidekick and nakama.

How you wished he felt for you the way you felt for him. To try to woo you like he tried to woo other girls who rejected him when they found out the truth.

You were sorry to see him melt over the other girls. How he got down on one knee and kept asking for their hand in marriage. You knew that was one of the main reasons he was among the living. His biggest regret.

When you saw him with other girls, it always made your heart skip a beat and you had to do everything you could to not let it show on yourself.

The new island was a new opportunity for the chef to find a new girl. You were out shopping and you passed a small square with a small group of beautiful girls among the people.

As soon as Sanji saw the beauties, he dropped his shopping bags and headed towards them. He showered them with compliments before getting down on one knee and asking for their hand in marriage. The girls were just giggling.

You picked up your bags and walked to the side with them when the wind picked up out of nowhere. This wind was a bad omen for Sanji as it blew his bangs to the side, exposing his eye. Or rather an empty socket where the eye should have been.

The girls he had been focusing on until now ran away screaming and left him kneeling on the ground alone, with a completely broken expression.

The cook walked over to you brokenly, lit a cigarette and took your bags, saying he would take them on the ship. He hated these reactions. It reminded him so much that he was no longer alive. Just a corpse waiting for a miracle.

You wanted to somehow improve his mood, so you used this opportunity and went to the shop you passed on the way. To a shop that sold prosthetics. From limbs, dentures, and eyes. You knew what eye colour to choose for him. No one else you knew had eyes as blue as his.

On the boat you gave him your little gift, like a little thing, a souvenir you would call it. The others were there too and they all saw how happy Sanji was. Heart in his eyes, he hugged you on his knees.

You and everyone else had already started to think that this would make the cook notice you and see how you felt about him. Nothing could be further from the truth as nothing has changed at all. As soon as another girl flashed past him, or Nami and Robin, his head was in the clouds.

Despite all this, you had the impression that it would end like this and sighed in disappointment. You felt like you were chasing an even more impossible dream than your captain was chasing.

You saw that things with Sanji were difficult and apparently impossible and you slowly gave up. You didn't even know how, but you found your solace in the swordsman and the doctor.

Both of them supported you and Zoro even offered to knock some sense into the cook. It sounded tempting, but you talked him out of it.

This small change didn't go unnoticed by Sanji and he got the impression that you had started something with the swordsman. He didn't understand at all what you saw in that mosshead. That's why he also went to see him, what was his problem, that you spent so much time with him.

Zoro didn't understand at all. It was the chef's bad luck, he had his chance with you. And even though you tried to act like you got over it, Zoro knew full well that you would do anything for a cook.

“Dude, look what you have in front of you,” he said instead, pointing over his shoulder at you. You stood with your back to them, playing the new board game he got in town with Chopper.

Sanji looked at you and he had no idea what mosshead was talking about. Robin, who heard everything, joined in. The two of them then explained it to him.

When Sanji finally saw through it, he made you a dinner with everything you liked as an apology and asked you out on a date. You could see in him that he was serious and so you decided to give him one more chance.

Sanji Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #undead sanji #Monster Piece

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amorgansgal · 6 months ago

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A Quiet Evening

Finally posting part 6 of my fat female tav/reader x Gale fic! I'm still not quite pleased with how it ends, but I think I would spend months rewriting that over and over again and still not be satisfied. So it is what it is. I hope you all enjoy! I think I might leave this as the last one.

Fat Female Tav/Reader x Gale

CW: Sexual content, oral sex, penetrative sex, some reference to suicide

It filled your mind. Every time you saw Gale or had a quiet moment to yourself you would think about the charge Mystra had given him. Every time you all ventured out into the shadow curse lands, trying to get closer to Moonrise towers so you could find out more about Ketheric’s immortality and invulnerability, you felt like you were choking. And it wasn’t on the dark, ever present shadows that made the atmosphere heavy and gloomy. A tight thorny vine had wrapped itself around your heart and lungs, making it difficult to breathe and you wished you could claw it out of your throat. But it felt impossible to even talk to Gale about it. He seemed so determined to act like nothing was wrong, even though you occasionally caught the melancholy behind his eyes at times. You were so wrapped up in your own concerns, both for him and undoing the shadow curse, that it was sometimes days when you would share a kiss. And even then the kiss was distracted and half-hearted. It was no longer the passionate storm that left you clinging to him. You missed him, but you were so fearful about loving him again if it was all for naught, if in just a few days or weeks he would do as his goddess bid and destroyed himself to stop the Absolute.

You kept meaning to talk to him more about it, to beg him to reconsider, to tell him that you selfishly wanted him to stay alive, because he meant the world to you and you didn’t want to face the world without him, that you both had already lost so much time to mistakes and fear that it wouldn’t be fair to lose him entirely when you’d had so little together. That Mystra was content to let him throw his life away, but you cared about him so deeply that you feared the wound he would leave in your life with his departing would never heal.

Now you were trudging back to camp, tired and drained after a long day in a strange, dark hospital and Astarion had been clever enough to convince a mad surgeon to let his creepy, deranged nurses practise on him, rather than on you all. Then when you found a lute within the hospital and realised it belonged to the flaming fist who was lying in the Last Light Inn, still muttering his strange song about Thaniel, you had to return to the inn and been fortunate to revive him from his cursed slumber. You insisted on rest though, even though Halsin wanted to find Thaniel while he was lost in the shadow curse. It would keep for one more day and you were keen to see Gale again.

When you finally reached the campfire though and warmed your cold fingers, you could see that it was not Gale who was waiting by his tent, but his simulacrum. You frowned in puzzlement and approached it, wondering why Gale hadn’t just written a note for everyone to read if he needed to go somewhere. You approached it apprehensively.

“Good evening!” the simulacrum cried, rather exuberantly. “I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He wishes to extend to you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale.”

This was even stranger. Why couldn’t he have just asked you for a private conversation in person? Why was he making his simulacrum do it instead? You almost felt tempted to say no and that whatever Gale had to say he could say it when he got back to camp. But you supposed you were too curious about it to deny him and also you felt a bit bad for being so moody and sullen, but it was harder now to feel cheerful or good about anything.

“Very well, where is he?”

The Simulacrum beamed and gestured to a path that curved round the riverbank. “Simply follow yonder path and soon you will find him.”

You nodded. “I’ll be there soon, if you can tell him that. I’m just going to wash off and change.”

The simulacrum gave a rather flamboyant bow and you wondered if Gale had intended for his copy to come across that way or if it had caught wind of his more excitable, extravagant side. It made you smile for once, and you quickly washed off in the nearby river. The air was still cold and you wrapped a cloak around you, before following the path along the river and into the forest. It didn’t take you long to see your wizard, sat on the ground, his arms outstretched towards the heavens, little flickers of the weave floating through the air and as you came near him you could see he had conjured up a galaxy of shimmering stars.

The sky was bluey-green with streaks of purple overhead and for a moment you were mesmerised by the sight, until Gale turned to look at you. He lowered his hands and leaned back, and you headed over to join him. You sat down and were rather surprised to see the dark, intense look in his gaze, it instantly brought you back to your academy days when he had begged to let him have you. You quickly looked away, though you could not deny the rush of desire you felt at his keen look or the hot flush on your cheeks.

After a moment of silence, Gale began to speak, “I love this time of night. There’s an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d almost believe the dawn would never break… The cradle of eternity, the timelessness of lovers, that most beautiful of fantasies.”

You had lifted your head to look up at the sky again and caught his eye once more. That intent look had returned and he was watching you, as though you were the beautiful stars overhead, the most incredible wonder he could conjure up. You bit you lip hard, struggling to come up with anything to say. He sounded so poetic, so caught up in the magic, that you didn’t want to disturb it. You wished you could rest your head on his shoulder, but you felt strangely nervous.

He smiled softly at you, almost wistful, and continued speaking, “The curse is still present of course - just veiled and at arm’s length for now. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight? Tonight is different. This may be my last night alive, I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder. I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do feel a little lighter… but I am not so sure.”

You sighed heavily and clasped your hands together over your legs. “I still refuse to believe that,” you insisted. “There has to be another way.”

He laughed quietly and reached out to tenderly stroked the curve of your ear, making you shiver at the touch. “I am always grateful for your dogged determination and I know I was so lucky to meet you again, to get to hold your hand and kiss you again. I had thought on it, very often when you left, hells even with Mystra-”

“You don’t have to lie, Gale,” you said quickly. “I won’t be offended that you forgot about me, especially when you were with-”

Gale scowled, though it was still gentle and playful. “I’m more offended that you think I would lie at all. I often thought back on it, wondering if I could have done something different and it was the first time I got in trouble with Mystra… I unthinkingly compared your kisses in my head, forgetting she could easily delve into my mind and read it like a book. She was not best pleased.”

“I don’t think I was a very good kisser then-”

“Well, neither was I, but I liked that about it. It was messy, desperate, passionate,” he glanced at you and smiled wickedly. But the smile gradually drifted away and he stroked your cheek again. “One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime and prise the fear from my heart. I know this is all unreal but I created it for you. You must know that you’re… you’re very special to me. If things were different, if I had not been a complete fool at the academy, or even if I had but I got to meet you again in different circumstances, then I’d have taken time to do things properly. To say it all better. But time is short.”

He sighed heavily, then looked up at you again. “I’m in love with you. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped loving you.”

Your breath caught in your lungs at his confession, at his deeply longing, earnest gaze and for a moment you just sat there dumbfounded, until Gale shifted, his eyes flickered between desire and fear. “Sorry,” you breathed out.

“Sorry?” he questioned. “You’re sorry you don’t love me or you’re sorry I love you?”

“No!” you said with a laugh, a rush of swirling emotions had taken you by surprise, you were torn between joy that he had confessed to loving you, that ever clinging fear he would still do Mystra’s bidding and destroy himself in order to earn some petty form of forgiveness, anger that she had asked it of him, regret that you had lost so much time, and love… deep, overwhelming, deliciously sweet love for him, for this man who had been inspired by you to conjure stars. “I love you. I love you more than I could possibly ever say.”

He smiled. “Well that’s a relief. It would be a shame to keep up my habit of making an ass of myself!” He got to his feet, then offered you a hand and helped you up. Gale drew you close to him. “I want it to be perfect - to bond with you in the way that the gods do… intertwining our spirits in visions of the weave.”

He sounded so excited, yet you hesitated. You loved him, wholeheartedly, and you loved magic and you loved his excitement when he spoke of magic. But strangely you didn’t want visions and illusions and the weave or Mystra or anything else like that, you just wanted the man before you. You wanted the warmth of his hands on you, the feel of his lips on your neck.

“Gale, I just… can we make our first time just with us? No magic, no illusions or visions, just us.”

He looked staggered by the idea, as though you had utterly thrown him. “Are you sure? I could conjure up any sight you could dream of and a few you could not. I could use the weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning. I could do more than woo you, I could wow you.”

You raised a brow. “I think I remember your attempt to both woo and wow me.”

“Ah… well it wouldn’t be like that. I like to think I have become more considerate since then.”

You came closer to him and kissed him. He let out a small moan as you did, his arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you even closer till you were pressed against him. His lips trailed down your cheek and neck. Gale lifted his head, looking almost drunk and dizzy with love for you and you instinctively smiled at the half-lidded gaze and his messy hair. “Are you sure?” he asked again. “You just want me? Ordinary Gale?”

“You’re still extraordinary, but yes, that’s all I want.”

He smiled at you, his thumb still rubbing over the back of your hand and he almost looked apprehensive, as though you might run off all over again. You looked down at the rough blanket Gale had brought with him to sit on. And while you were all for sticking to mortal pleasures, you figured you could both do with at least some comfort and you would allow yourself one bit of magic. You gestured with your hand and conjured a bed. It looked rather strange in the forest, with plush pillows and blue-grey covers, but Gale’s eyes glimmered with excitement.

“A very good idea,” he said.

You suddenly felt rather bashful about him seeing you. He’d seen your most intimate parts, but you had kept your top on. Perhaps if you could just undress as quickly as possible and climb into bed, he wouldn’t see all of you. You turned away and began to work on your corset.

“Uh… what are you doing?” he asked.

“Undressing.”

“Don’t I get that pleasure?” he wrapped an arm around your waist, halting your efforts and gently pressed kisses against your neck. “We might only have a few more nights together, but I want to take all the time in the world with you. I want to unwrap you, treasure you, make you feel like the goddess you are.”

You let out a small snort of contempt. “I’m no goddess.”

“Yes, you are,” his hands cleverly worked at the laces of the corset and finally freed you from the confines. “I would know.” He cupped your breasts through the linen shirt you wore and he let out a small groan, teasing your nipples into hard little buds and making you bite your lip hard to stay quiet as a little spike of desire rushed through you. He turned you to face him, cupping your face and kissing you, then tugged off your shirt. You instinctively put your arms over your chest. Gale frowned and tutted, then pulled your arms away.

“You’re too beautiful to hide away,” he murmured as he lowered his head again to kiss your cheek and necks, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and making you gasp. You clenched a fistful of his hair in your hand and couldn’t help leaning back so he would keep kissing you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and you wondered if he’d have the strength to hold you up if you were getting so weak at the knees.

“Gods, I’ve thought about this for years,” he said. He let go of you, suddenly frantic and desperate, he made quick work of your breeches, then pulled off his own shirt as though he couldn’t bear the thought of waiting for a single moment. You climbed onto the bed and turned to face him, you thought about wriggling under the covers, but he was already crawling over you. You felt rather shy about touching him, he was so handsome. All lean muscle and firm chest and a little trail of hair that ran down to his groin. You quickly brought your eyes back to his face, your cheeks warm even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. Gods, you were acting like you were still your 20-something virgin self! You’d seen a cock before and felt Gale’s hardness pressed against you many times, but actually seeing it- you hadn’t expected it to be quite so long.

“It’s just as well you wear a robe,” you said and could’ve cursed yourself for coming out with something so fantastically stupidly, that you wanted to immediately dive under the covers and hide away forever!

Gale stopped, a wicked smile on his lips, his body hovering over yours so you certainly couldn’t hide even if you wanted to! “Excuse me… are you saying I’m well endowed?”

You covered your face with your hands. “Please, don’t tease me… it’s been a long day and I wasn’t thinking.”

He tugged your hands away from your face and ran his hands down your body. A battle of desire waged war with the age old feeling of shame and discomfort at your soft, fat belly and the rolls around your waist. You still struggled with the idea that he might find you in any way desirable.

“For a woman who is so very smart and intelligent,” he said, pressing kisses down your body, until he reached your thighs, “Some of my favourite moments are when you’re not thinking and just say whatever’s in your head.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“Admittedly, part of me does want to crow it from the rooftops, but I shall not tell a soul that my love thinks I am impressively girthed!” He gave your thighs two loving kisses. “I have dreamt of your thighs, how tight you had them wrapped around my head, the sweet noises you made.”

He slipped his arms underneath your knees and opened you up to him. His eyes darkened on seeing your slit and you clenched your hand tightly to stop yourself from covering it up. “Let us see if you still make those same noises or if they have changed.”

All had been forgotten, you were at sea, adrift and awashed in pleasure, no longer caring about your size or if Gale found you desirable or if he still longed for Mystra. His tongue was magic, it had to be, the way he could so easily draw you to the peak and keep you there, tantalisingly, achingly close, and you were a mess, begging and pleading and gasping for pleasure. You occasionally caught glimpses of his smug smile, but he would swiftly return to his work. You could feel him rutting against the bed and heard his moans, and the thought of him being so utterly turned on by your own pleasure, by the taste of you, by the warmth and weight of your thighs made you utterly desperate to cum.

“Gale please!” you cried. “Please let me cum, please, I’ll do anything!”

He raised his head, his hair sticking to his forehead, his mouth and beard drenched with your slick, a brilliant smile on his lips. “Anything?”

“Gale!” you howled.

“I think you’ve earned it, you can cum, my love.” He buried himself back between your thighs and fiercely sucked and licked on your clit, slipping his fingers inside your aching, needy cunt that clenched around the digits tightly as you unravelled and the waves of unrelenting pleasure made you moan loudly, uncaringly at the stars overhead.

You caught your breath back and Gale slipped up your body, his cock twitched against your dripping slit. He kissed you, that desperate, heady kiss of him wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re still utterly delicious,” he murmured, he was instinctively rolling his hips, his cock becoming slick with your desire and you could feel how easy it would be for him to slip inside you. Though you saw a flicker of concern in his eyes and he stilled, gripping the cover tightly in one hand. You gently cupped his face, stroking his cheek. “We can stop, if you want,” he said.

“What?” you asked, still a little delirious from the wonderful orgasm he had just wrought from you.

“We can stop, if you’re not comfortable or would rather not… I remember last time, I remember…”

“Gale,” you soothed, kissing him. “Forget what happened in the past. We’re both here, we both want this, I’m not running away again.”

He smiled, relief flooding his face. “Good,” he said, and his cock easily slipped inside you, making you gasp at the sensation. Gale whined and buried his face against your neck. “Fuck, you feel good.” He took a shuddery breath and raised his head. “I won’t lie, it’s been years and…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence, he groaned again and sharply inhaled. “I haven’t lain with anyone or touched myself… because of the orb… so I can’t promise I’ll last long, especially because you feel so, so good. And I’m sorry if-”

You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into another kiss. “Gale, just have me, you’ve already given me pleasure and I just want you. This doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be you.”

Gale smiled, his hands stroking down to your thighs and gripped them. “I will try to make this perfect, all the same.” He thrust in slow and deep and let out another tight moan. “Gods above you feel perfect.” He lowered his head to your breast, lathering the breast with kisses and then enveloping the nipple with his warm, wet mouth, sucking on it till the tight feeling in your belly was too much to bear and you wriggled against him, though he would not let you go.

He clung onto you, as though you might melt away into the bed, but soon the self control he had slipped and he pressed your legs wider, thrusting into you furiously, his mouth everywhere, your breasts, your neck, your jaw, your lips. You breathed him in, he smelled like home, like Waterdeep, bergamot and sage and roses and books and the seasalt air. You gasped as his hips smacked loudly into yours and he frantically kissed you, as though he would swallow the sound. He pressed his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes.

“I’m close.”

You kissed him, tasting his mouth and teasingly nipping at his lower lip. “Come inside me.”

He let out a tight moan and buried his face against your neck, you groaned as he bit down hard on the flesh and felt him cum deep inside you, his hips still grinding, the last few weak thrusts, until he stilled and breathed hard.

Eventually, he slowly raised his head, his expression so full of adoration and happiness that you smiled in turn. Gale kissed you and carefully moved off you. You rolled onto your side to look at him and he smiled, his fingers trailed down your face to your shoulder, he entwined his fingers with yours.

“Thank you,” Gale said.

You laughed a little at that and he kissed you again. “I wish I could stay awake with you forever,” you murmured, feeling sated and absurdly happy. Gale curled up next to you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, gently nuzzling kisses against your shoulder and neck.

“We need to sleep, it’s been a long day, doubtless it will be a longer one tomorrow,” he said.

Despite how much you wanted to stay awake, a deep, sweet, dreamless sleep called to you and for the first time in weeks you felt utterly peaceful and content, safe in Gale’s arms.

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