#roll call rescue recruits

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

Doing some dum dum homework rn. Enjoy.

[sphnyspinspin]

Wip game

"how to parent a whirl"

Oh my gosh, how I love Whirl and Whirl Jr. lore drama. I may have revamped the plot a bit since I used this title for a different one-shot, but this is a potential storyline, and I was honestly throwing stuff at the wall.

But tbh THIS FIC does this prompt SO MUCH JUSTICE HOLY CRAP! I’m not downplaying my WIP, I’m just saying that this is where the mega-angsty Whirl and Whirl Jr. lore drama can be triangulated.

Basically Whirl Sr. has been psyching himself out, by trying to prepare himself for the talk with Whirl Jr. about his past. She is his family now so she automatically has a right to know how much of a piss-poor example her caretaker was in the far-far past… right?

Time flies by and Whir Jr. continues to see her mentor as this strong, noble, and fun-loving goofy guy who may be a bit of a meanie head sometimes, but means well. Ever since she was a sparkling she looked up to Whirl so much that she took on his name just because she admires the guy.

He may just be a humble clock-tinkerer, but he’s more than that, and she just knows it!

Whirl Jr. was at that stage in every bot’s life where she wanted to do more. Liking helping those you care about in any way you can, just like her mentor always taught her!

And when she got the brilliant idea to become a policebot, of all things, she was surprised at how quickly her mentor shot the idea down.

But that never stopped her from trying. So she persisted and begged Whirl Sr. for a chance to become a “hero of the people” non-stop, until he caved.

Now she has returned home after her second year of being a rescue recruit training at Earth’s, one and only, Rescue Bots Academy.

Whirl Sr. was supposed to tell her last year, but chickened out last minute. He had to tell her now. Or at least until the ‘Welcome Back’ party is over.

Whirl Jr. eventually finds him moping by himself on the rooftop, which transcends into them finally having… the talk.

It went just as expected. Whirl Sr. didn’t spare a single detail about how he lost his limbs. Or his actions while working for the council. Or how he acted during the war.

Suffice to say… Whirl Jr. was in shock, to say the least.

FYI I abandoned this concept and this draft but I still want to do something similar for my AU whenever I do more angst. This is so not revitalized, merely just me typing what comes to mind.

[dawngyu]

THE LAST SAFE PLACE

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

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

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

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

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

wordcount: 30k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were used to it by now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did you see the news?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sleeping."

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah. They definitely shouldn’t go outside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ju-won will come with us."

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

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

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

He's got guts.

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

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

"We leave in 10 minutes,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Defeat. Death. They’re dead.

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

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

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

A go signal. Finally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Captain. Orders!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ahhh!”

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N…" His voice was weak. Too weak.

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

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

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

"Leave me."

"No. Come on."

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

“I’m not having this conversation—”

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

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

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

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

Min Ju-won.

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

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

Arms went limp in your embrace.

Min Ju-won.

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

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

Death isn’t new to you.

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

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

No one could even bring his body back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

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

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

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

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

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

"Again?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Guys, the water’s stopped."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who’re you?"

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

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

Someone’s trying to break in?

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

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

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

Woah. She’s… really pretty.

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

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

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

"Who’re you?"

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

"Manager Jisoo. Hybe."

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

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

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

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

"How many of you are still in here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How desperately he’d needed them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Got it,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'M sorry,"

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

"No."

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

"Let's go,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soft. Warm. It feels different somehow.

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

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

He's here.

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

"Sure,"

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

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

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

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

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

"Didn’t you radio them, Do-hyun?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BANG.

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

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

Soobin. Yeonjun. Taehyun. Kai.

You.

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

Bandits?

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

“What the—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His four brothers weren’t with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure it’ll hold?”

“It will, trust me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.

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

Plans. Risks. Next steps.

“What’s the next plan?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m coming with you.”

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You already did,”

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

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

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

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

“That a woman can do a man’s job?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

The other one's face fell.

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

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

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

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

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

“Infected,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. Let’s just get it over with.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it get easier?”

“Never.”

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

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

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

Familiarity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s already too late.

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

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

He wants to see it again.

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

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

“Why do you think they’re in Jeonju?”

“Probably got a radio response,”

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

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

Seo-jun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

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

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

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

“A manual,”

“Hm.”

“That has gas in it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Red.

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

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

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

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

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

Red.

All you saw was red.

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

You'll kill them all.

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

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

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

BANG.

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

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

BANG.

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

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

BANG.

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

BANG.

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

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

He was crying because you had to do this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You killed them.

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

You barely registered him.

“Can you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One thing you can taste.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

“What?”

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

“No,”

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

“What about it?”

“Was that your first t—”

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

“You had to kill your teammates too?”

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

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

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

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

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

"You can rest now,"

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

“Are you done?”

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

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

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

“No.”

“You just mentioned her.”

“She’s famous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You promise.”

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

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

You jerked back, shaking your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His safe place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Survival.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Survival.

There's nothing more that terrified you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You waited for ten minutes, at most.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since the start,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He showers with his heart feeling impossibly heavy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Idiot,” you muttered, smirking despite yourself.

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

It never did.

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

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

Polaroids.

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

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

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

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

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

What mattered was seeing you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not when he’s missed you this much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you too.

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

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

You weren't alone.

Beomgyu.

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

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

"Hm?" He hummed.

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

"It's morning,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In fact, there was barely any washing done.

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

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

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

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

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

"Hold up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beomgyu stiffens. “Right now?"

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll see you soon,”

He holds you.

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

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

“KAI!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you see him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made you happy while it lasted.

This dream—this borrowed time you had.

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

“I love you too,”

YEAR 2030

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

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

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

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

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

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

If he wanted to—he would.

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

He holds you.

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

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

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

THE END.

[grandline-fics]

Hear me out please, Cross Guild playing UNO with Y/n? 👀

DESCRIPTION: They underestimate you during game night

WARNINGS:  i don't think any warnings are needed

CHARACTERS: Cross Guild

WORDS: 1,321

A/N: Thank you for this request! I had a lot of fun with this scenarion even though it was something different to come up with something. Hope you like what I wrote.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

These game nights were a relatively new addition to the Cross Guild dynamic, a simple suggestion among some of the lower ranking recruits to pass the time but one made a comment on how it helped enforce partnerships while also being a safer way to get out frustrations of the day. You’d overheard them talking about their more recent game night and became curious, noticing how more relaxed and happier they all seemed between jobs. As you walked by the large set of double doors of the trio’s meeting room you heard the angered conversation and panicked begging from the other side. If anyone needed to get their frustrations out through different means and enforce partnerships it was those three. 

With a sigh you left them to it, having no need to intrude in their ‘meeting’ just yet. After completing your duties you changed into comfier clothes and walked by the large communal lounge to the sound of playful arguing and laughter. Glancing in you saw the groups sat at tables, on floors, or the sofas. Everyone engaged in games or just watching in amusement. You noted even some of the higher ranks were mingling in the groups too. Still no sign of your Bosses though. With a small hum you reached into the cabinet where the games were kept and grabbed the first pack of cards you touched and left the others to their fun. 

You’d made one more stop on the way before you were outside the double doors once again and rolled your eyes to still hear the same muffled nonsense that you’d noticed a handful of hours ago. With a sharp knock you entered. Crocodile and Mihawk glared towards you at the sound of your entrance but held back the beginnings of their yells or threats when they saw it was you. Still they weren’t entirely happy though. Slowly your gaze slid across them and then down at the chopped apart Buggy, meeting his pleading gaze for rescue. “Is there an emergency?”

“In a manner of speaking.” You replied walking towards the meeting table, lightly tossing the deck of UNO cards on the table before carefully setting the four glasses and bottle of whiskey beside it. “Call this an emergency workplace resolution meeting. Game night.”

“Absolutely not!”

“I’m not a child.”

“That’s not going to solve them threatening to kill me!”

“Well then consider this me resignation party.” You said with a simple shrug, silencing their refusals and whining while sliding into your seat, face calm as you poured your own drink. 

Mihawk eyed you carefully for any sign of a bluff but still removed Yoru from its place near Buggy’s nose. Crocodile glared at you, teeth grinding into his cigar and removed his hook from Buggy’s back. With both threats of violence seemingly lifted Buggy gladly reassembled his body and rose from the floor, the only one to openly show worry at your threat. “You’d really leave?”

“What’s to stay for?” You asked, swirling the dark liquid with relaxed ease in the glass while smiling sweetly at the trio. “When I was hired it was to oversee the parts of this enterprise the three of you either lack the maturity or patience or general will to do and I do it exceptionally well. I was promised that I would not be bored in this job but quite frankly the three of you acting like homicidal children with each other is a bore. I’m not your nanny. So what are we deciding? Playing along or saying goodbye?”

Your question hung heavy in the room. None of the men were prepared to lose you. You were far too good at your job and your wage reflected that. They knew no-one else would be able to handle them individually the way you did while also achieving all of your duties effortlessly. The three of them exchanged looks with each other while you sat as relaxed as could be, leaving your fate in their hands. For the first time today the three Cross Guild leaders were unanimous in their choice. Crocodile poured his own glass and grumbled as he took his seat. “Deal the cards.”

“Still, UNO?” Mihawk remarked as he took his chair, reaching for a glass and the bottle once it was free. 

“Like I said, you were acting like children. Needed to see you could handle a child’s game first. We can always move on to something else after?” You suggested with a smirk as you shuffled the deck and dealt the cards. 

“UNO is fairer than other games, less chance for cheating.” Buggy muttered, pulling his cards towards him and the final glass. 

“Aww come on boys, don’t pout.” You consoled the trio with a calm smile as they threw their cards on the table as you won. Again. “It’s just a game.” 

“Stupid game.”

“You thought you going to win that one for sure, didn’t you Croc?” You asked with a growing grin while Crocodile glared harder, wanting nothing more than the skewer the entire deck with his hook. Still he couldn’t deny that this was the longest he’d spent in the same room as Mihawk and Buggy without any real animosity or desire to kill him. You on the other hand, he wasn’t best pleased with. More so because he hadn’t expected you to be capable of beating him like this. While it wasn’t a game like poker or blackjack, it was still cards and it stung a little but he couldn’t bring himself to be truly angry not when you proved your point. If anything he felt pride.

Mihawk was more relaxed about his losing streak, still a bit of a bruised ego but it was going to damage his reputation any. A little card game won out of chance and luck wasn’t going to rattle him. His mood was lighter, enjoying the way you showed a more playful and smug side of yourself now that everyone was getting along. As for Buggy he was delighted to feel safe with Cross Guild’s masterminds, he didn’t care if he was losing the game. In his eyes he was the real winner, that for once Mihawk and Crocodile were at someone else’s mercy for a change. “Another game or have you had enough?”

“It’s late.” Crocodile noted, finally catching sight of the clock on the wall. “We all have work in the morning.”

“Suit yourself.” You shrugged, sitting back in your seat. You would leave after you finished your drink. As you sipped your drink you lazily twirled one of the cards between your fingers.

“Next time we need a better game.” Mihawk stated as he slowly sipped his drink. You felt satisfaction grow as you silently listened to them plan when the very notion of playing a game was  initially so ridiculous. Then the conversation slowed and you blinked to see three sets of eyes locked in on the card still being manoeuvred deftly between your fingers. One moment it was a green 3, on the next twist it was a yellow plus two, over and over it continued, always changing. A small laugh broke through your lips, deciding to finally put them out of their misery and show that you weren’t playing fair.

“Little cheat.” Crocodile chuckled.  Buggy grinned and Mihawk smirked as you drained your glass and rose, setting the cards you’d had hidden up your sleeve on top of the pile of discarded ones. 

“Goodnight gentlemen thank you for a not boring evening.” You thanked them with a smile and a wink and turned on your heel, leaving them with a soft hum drifting from your lips that curved upwards. All three of them watched you leave, each of them now looking forward to the next game night even more although whether they could get along with each other until then was another matter entirely but for you they’d try.

----------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld

[lyjen]

In The Right Place Part 1 | Evan “Buck” Buckley

Summary: When a new recruit joins the 118, she immediately clashes with Buck. As (Y/n) gets partnered up with Buck during a rescue mission in an unstable, partly collapsed building, their teamwork becomes the only thing standing between survival and disaster.

Trope: Enemies to lovers

Feel free to send in a request!

9-1-1 Masterlist | Next Chapter >>>

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A deep sigh rolled from her lips as she turned off the motor of the car and got out the keys. Here she was, the new adventure she had been waiting for.

(Y/n) got transferred from her old firehouse down in Long Beach, the one she called home, to her soon to be called home in West Glendale, also known as the 118. Her stomach was filled with jitters, maybe it was the nerves, or maybe she was just excited to start somewhere new. She couldn’t quite place what she was feeling at that moment.

She had been doing this job for three years now, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Okay, here we go..” she mumbled under her breath as she opened her door on the driver's side and clamped her hand around the LAFD duffle bag as she stepped out of the car. (Y/n) took a second to scan the building she was about to walk into.

Without looking, she closed the car door as she took in a deep breath. It’s just another day. Nothing more, nothing less. (Y/n) clicked on the button of her car keys to lock her doors, and placed the keys into her bag as she started walking to the open garage doors of the 118.

Her boots clapped against the floor of the firehouse as she made her way through the garage doors into the firehouse. Her jaw was set, her uniform crisp as she scanned the room quietly with confidence as her eyes fell right in front of her, there were a few people in the gym at the back, but also a few were chatting around at some kind of briefing place right in front of the trucks and beside the locker room.

She could sense multiple eyes burning onto her skin as she walked towards the locker room she spotted. The second she stepped closer, even more eyes were locked onto her, as the voices stopped chatting for a moment, pausing as they took in the sight of the newcomer stepping into their fire station.

It wasn’t like there were hundreds of people looking at her, you could count them on two hands. But it sure felt like she was being stared at, as if she was an intruder.

“So, you’re the new recruit” one of the guy’s voices took over the silence in the room, his voice sounded teasing. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest. “Heard you’re the best at your old firehouse. Big shoes to fill here.” he added, as he leaned forward. Placing foot onto the small bright red bench in front of him.

“I don’t plan on filling anyone’s shoes,” she replied sharply and fiercely, locking her eyes with his. “Just doing my job. Try to keep up..” she paused for a second as she let her eyes wander to his name tag which was clicked onto his uniform. “Buckley.” she added. She didn’t miss a beat, and she knew it.

(Y/n) could hear a low chuckle coming from the other guy who was standing nearby Buck. ”Oh, this is going to get good.” he muttered under his breath as he switched looks between (Y/n) and his best friend as he fished, placing his watch on his wrist.

Buck tilted his head slightly, his grin slowly fading from his face. “I’ll keep up just fine. Just don’t trip over yourself trying to show off.” he shot back.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, but she didn’t bother to react to his words. She walked past him towards the locker room. She wasn’t here on a warpath, she was here to do her job.

Buck on the other hand, didn’t like someone infiltrating his family, his firehouse where he had been working for, for over five years now. He didn’t like change, and some new recruit had just done that. Infiltrating the place he called home.

Buck’s eyes followed her footsteps, his eyes filled with disapproval. “You hear that Hen?” Eddie grinned as he leaned over to Hen who had just exited the locker room, passing by (Y/n) on her way out. “I think Buck finally met someone who can outtalk him,” he added.

Hen softly chuckled at Eddie’s words as she stopped in her tracks. “I don’t think Buck is ready for this one. He usually likes people who’ll let him win.” she said as she locked her eyes on Buck.

He rolled his eyes at both their laughter, “Oh, come on” he reacted back at his colleagues. “I’m just.. being friendly.” he said, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

Eddie’s eyes grew with surprise when he heard those words fall off Buck’s lips. “Friendly?” he quipped, “If that’s friendly, I’d hate to see you when you’re hostile.” he continued as he shook his head as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Everyone, give it a rest,” Bobby’s voice cut through the room as he walked in with a clipboard in his hand.

Bobby’s eyes locked onto the new recruit who just exited the locker room. Bobby stepped forward with a welcoming smile, “You must be (Y/n). Captain Bobby Nash.” he held out his hand to her.

(Y/n) stepped forward, shaking his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, Captain.” she said as she gave him a small smile as the feeling of the jitters she felt when she entered had completely disappeared.

“Likewise,” Bobby said. “I’ve heard good things about you. Welcome to Station 118.” He glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the team, his brow raising slightly. “Though it seems you’ve already been introduced to some of the team.” He continued as he scanned the faces of his team.

“Just breaking the ice, Cap,” Buck said with an innocent look projected on his face as he folded his arms over his chest, sending him a smile.

Bobby sighed as he locked eyes with Buck for a quick second, but smiled as his eyes wandelend back to the female firefighter who was standing in front of his nose. He knew Buck wasn’t good with change, but (Y/n) was a good firefighter, maybe even the best at her old house. Someone they could use in their team. So he’ll just have to suck it up.

“Don’t worry about Buck,” Bobby said to (Y/n). “He’s all bark, no bite.” He added. Maybe a little too hard, so Buck would hear it, purposely.

But the second those words left Bobby’s mouth, Buck’s voice sounded through the space. “Are you sure of that Cap?” He interjected, his eyes locked on (Y/n). Typically Buck, he tried his best to shoot back at her, trying to make her feel intimidated.

(Y/n) smiled faintly, a challenge sparking in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder at Buck. “Well, then it’s a good thing I know how to handle both.” She answered back.

Hen’s laugh that quickly turned into a cough filled the room, as Eddie and Chimney both grinned at the situation that was happening. They were clearly enjoying the moment that was happening in front of their eyes.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Bobby said, though his tone was light. He didn’t want to let this get out of hand already. “Let’s give (Y/n) a proper welcome and get ready for the day.” He said as he placed the clipboard into his other hand and watched part of his team go towards the new recruit.

Buck on the other hand, had his hand placed on the back of his neck. Not knowing what to do with himself as he watched his closest colleagues making their way towards (Y/n). Buck watched her like a hawk, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Oh and Buck?” The captain’s voice sounded through his eardrums as he quickly turned on his heels and stepped closer to Bobby. “Yeah, Cap?”

Bobby gave him a pointed look as he placed his hand onto his shoulder. “Play nice.” He said as he patted his shoulder and turned away from Buck to go back to his office.

Leaving Buck a little bit confused. What?

He was pulled from his thoughts as he felt Hen nudging him with her elbow. “Hey-“ Buck said, a little offended as he looked at the person now standing next to him.

“Don’t,” she said with a grin as the both of them looked at Eddie and Chim who were chatting with (Y/n). “What?” Buck asked, all innocent as he kept his eyes locked on (Y/n).

“You’re already planning how to one-up them,” she said knowingly as she looked up at her friend. “You just can’t help yourself, can’t you?” she added.

“What? No- I- I would never.” he said seriously, but the moment he looked at Hen, his all innocent look faded and made place for a grin that was spread on his face. He folded his arms over his chest, as his eyes wandered back to the small trio, talking.

She wasn’t wrong.

______

The truck pulled to a stop, making (Y/n) unbuckle her seatbelt and hop out of the truck as she scanned the scene immediately. Basically burning the scene like a picture into her brain.

The scene was nothing but chaos.

A six-story apartment building had partly collapsed, the left side of the building was completely leaning onto the rubble on the bottom of the collapse. As if a part of a jenga tower had fallen.

The side of the collapsed part was completely gone. Almost like you were in some kind of decorating mode of an architect program.

Flames were coming from the lower floor as a loud noise took over the scene. The sound of metal creaking told the team just how unstable and fragile the building was at the moment.

This was her first call she would be doing with the team. She didn’t have the feeling she had to prove herself, but this was a new team, a new house, she had to show them what she was capable of.

Buck stepped out of the truck and directly opened the compartment where he had tossed in his helmet. He let the lid of the compartment lift itself by the gas springs as he locked his eyes on (Y/n) who was looking at the scene.

But he got pulled from his thoughts as Bobby’s voice cut through the noise of the scene. “Hen, Chim, assist with evac and set up a medical triage area. Buck, Eddie, (Y/n), you’re with me on search and rescue. Let’s get in there before this whole thing comes down!” Bobby commanded his team, making his team, including the newest addition nod and calling out they copied what he had just ordered.

With that said, Buck reached for his helmet, getting it out of the compartment he was standing in front of, as (Y/n) took place next to him, quickly sliding her helmet from the compartment too.

He shot a glance at (Y/n), as he followed her towards the other compartment to get their oxygen tanks.

(Y/n) could feel his eyes burning into her skin, into her back as she felt Buck following her tracks to get her oxygen tank as soon as possible. He was getting on her nerves, at least that’s how she felt. But he didn’t even do that much.

(Y/n) got the oxygen tank from the right compartment, and took a few steps back from the truck so she could get ready to get inside. She placed the tank on the ground as she slipped her right arm through one of the loopholes and placed the tank onto her back.

Buck did exactly the same, but as (Y/n) pushed her other arm through the second loop and he placed the tank on his back, he glanced at her. “You ready for this?” he asked her, trying to sense if he could find any spark of anxiousness, or some weakness.

But she was focussed, she didn’t break the routine of preparing herself for going inside the burning building. She didn’t even spare him a glance. “Let’s just get it done.” she said as she stood up and clicked everything in place.

The four of the team that were assigned to the search and rescue entered the building, the air was thick with dust and smoke from the fallen structure. Every size of concrete could be found on the ground.

The entrance hall was a mess, like some kind of bomb had gone off. Broken beams, shattered glass and tons of concrete were spread throughout the space. Bobby scanned the area as he tried to communicate with his team. “We’re splitting up. Buck, take (Y/n) and head left. Check the upper floors. Me and Eddie will take the lower levels. Stay on the radio and watch for falling debris.” he commanded half of his team.

He wanted to roll his eyes so badly, but he didn’t. He knew he’d get a comment from his captain if he did. But why had Bobby paired him with her? Bobby knew he worked best with Eddie, they knew both what the other needed when they gave each other a glance.

But, Buck pushed his pride aside as he nodded at the Captain’s orders. He moved towards the already unstable staircase, as he looked back at (Y/n), who was checking her gear for a split second. “Come on, rookie. Clock is ticking.” he said, a bit annoyed.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes at the words that came out of his mouth. They climbed the unstable stairs, (Y/n) closely following her teammate. Suddenly the building started to shake and shudder violently. As if (Y/n) had stepped onto the vibration plate her mom used to have.

Dust was coming from the cracking ceiling above her, mixed with some small pieces of concrete down the space. But the small pieces became larger within a second, they became chunks.

(Y/n)’s eyes wandered to the ceiling above her as abruptly her stomach turned at the loud sound that overtook the scene. This wasn’t good.

A loud creak echoed from above, little cracks were being created, without a single thought, (Y/n)’s hand was placed onto Buck’s upper arm. She yanked him back on the fabric of his turn out jacket as hard as she could.

“Watch it!” she yelled, trying to be louder than the sound on the scene.

A piece of ceiling collapsed in front of Buck. He paused for a split second as he looked at the large piece of ceiling that could have landed on Buck himself. His eyes wandered to (Y/n), her hand was still holding his jacket, as he shrugged off her hand with a stupid grin on his face. “Relax. Close calls are part of the job.” he said.

He acted like he could’ve been hit by a pillow instead of a concrete ceiling. Was he just trying to be cool, or was he just that stupid? An expression appeared on (Y/n)’s face, which said: are you serious?

“Yeah, we’ll close calls get people killed,” (Y/n) sounded annoyed by his calm reaction. “Try paying attention.” She sighed, but Buck didn’t react to it. Instead he just resumed making his way to the first floor with (Y/n) on his heels, following him in his steps.

The second floor was even worse than the first, half of the hallway had completely come down.

The two of them were carefully but quickly sweeping the second floor right now, trying to search for victims. Cries for help sounded softly through the hall, entering Buck’s ears.

His pace quickened as he worms himself past the debris of the building that had broken and came down. “Someone’s still alive over there!”

His feet were moving quicker than his mind.

(Y/n) followed him, and caught up to him when he scanned the door where the voice came from. “Help! I’m in here! Please!” A female voice shouted, which sounded more muffled.

“LAFD ma’am, we’re coming to get you!” Buck reacted to the woman inside of the apartment, as he was making a plan on how to deal with the barricaded door in front of him.

The apartment door was being blocked by a massive steel beam that had fallen across the frame.

“We need to get this open now!” he said as Buck grabbed the halligan tool that he had attached like some kind of backpack or shoulder bag on his back.

But just when Buck placed his halligan between the door and the metal beam, to get it out of their way, (Y/n) held up a hand. “Hold on. The ceiling is unstable, one wrong move and it’s coming down on top of us.” she said as she inspected the ceiling above the two of them again.

“There’s no time to waste, we have to get her out!” Buck argued, placing the tool once again on the right spot. But just as Buck wanted to start to push and pull, (Y/n) stepped in front of him, placing her hand around the halligan to make him stop. “We do this wrong, and we’re digging out bodies instead of saving lives here, Buck.” she said with a firm tone.

He didn’t even look at her as he hesitated his own decision. His eyes were glued to the halligan, clearly doubting if he was making the right choice. But finally he nodded in frustration. She was right, he was wrong, and he knew it.

Together they quickly set up a support brace to hold the almost collapsing ceiling a little longer in place.

The building started to make more sounds when Buck placed the halligan in between the door and the frame, cracking it open. Cries of the woman grew louder the second the door was opened.

Smoke was taking over the entire room as the woman tried to breath and call out for help through the suffocating air. The woman was trapped underneath a large bookshelf. The multiple books were covering the floor.

Buck rushed across the room as he knelt beside the woman on his knees, “LAFD ma’m, we’re getting you out of here.” he tried to reassure her. “What is your name?” he asked the young woman, who was trapped. While (Y/n) quickly crouched behind the bookshelf, inspecting how it had pinned the female.

The metal frame had collapsed awkwardly, one corner was hitting the floor. (Y/n) planted both her hands against the bookcase, testing without actually lifting it, the weight and position.

The woman grunted at the weight that was being pushed onto her body due to gravity. “Ann” she gasped as she tried to breathe through the pain she was experiencing. “Ann, you’re going to be okay. My colleague will lift the bookshelf so we can slide you out from underneath, okay?” He explained to her as he connected his eyes with (Y/n), basically telling her what to do.

He was doing this on purpose, he wanted to test her. See if she really had it in her to lift that large bookshelf from the ground. But (Y/n) wasn’t going to let him get to her. She was going to lift that if he ordered her to do so.

“Are you sure you can hold it?” Buck asked her, sounding a little bit hesitant. What was he trying to do? Trying to see if she’d chicken out of it and switch places with him? He was for sure second guessing her abilities.

(Y/n) shot him a glare, “Just be quick about it.” she said as her eyes wandered from Buck towards the ceiling once again. “We don’t have much time.” she added as she motioned her head towards the cracks that were spreading across the ceiling.

She placed her boots firmly onto the floor, trying to merge her feet into the floor. She got this.

(Y/n) shifted her weight and pushed against the bookshelf with all her strength she had in her body. She could feel her muscles straining as the bookshelf disconnected itself from the ground.

“Now, Buck!” she gasped, trying to hold the weight.

Not even a millisecond after she told him to get in there, he assessed Ann checking her on any injuries. It almost felt like he was taking his sweet time to check on any injuries. “I can’t hold this forever, Buckley!” she groaned, annoyed.

Buck nodded as he smoothly but carefully placed the c-collar around the woman’s neck and slid her out from underneath. The woman cried in pain as Buck moved her, but once she was moved (Y/n) dropped the large piece of furniture.

In the perfect moment, they’d have asked for a backboard, but since this structure was about to come down, they didn’t have any other choice but to carry the woman down.

(Y/n) tried to catch her breath as she listened to the building, making more and more angry noises. This wasn’t good. “This building isn’t going to hold any longer!” (Y/n) said as she felt her normal rhythm of breathing come back. Buck had the woman in his arms, “Let’s get out of here!” he said as they moved across the apartment again, maneuvering towards the exit of the building.

They made it safely to the entrance of the apartment door again. Step by step, they tried their best to not make the building even angrier than it already was. (Y/n) followed him down the hall. But the building started to shake and rumble, making more and more debris fall down.

Dust was coming from the floor above them, but then another chunk of concrete made its way down. Directly pointed at Buck who was carrying Ann. “Buck, look out!” she yelled, as she gave him a hard push, pushing him out of the way. Just in time to avoid the debris, as the piece of concrete landed in between (Y/n) and Buck.

Buck quickly turned on his heels to see if his partner was okay. He stopped breathing for a second, until his eyes were met by (Y/n)’s. She was okay. For a quick second, they just stared at each other.

“You okay?” (Y/n) asked as she tried to catch her breath again. Buck nodded, “Yeah. Thanks.”

The building started to groan even louder than ever as the hallway started to just disappear from sight. As if someone had clicked on the delete button.

More rubble was crashing down not too far from where they were standing. Buck stumbled as he kept moving, the adrenaline had entered both their veins as they ran.

“Hurry!” (Y/n) yelled as she moved past Buck, grabbing his arm in her action to steady him as they ran down the stairs.

They were only one hallway left from reaching the outdoors again. (Y/n) could feel her legs wanting to cave in from underneath her. She used so much strength in pushing that bookcase up, her legs were trembling.

But she had to push through. She wasn’t going to give up. Pulling Buck on his arm as he was carrying the woman, they ran towards the light that was coming through the door of the entrance of the building.

An ear deafening noise echoed through the building. Making more dust and small pieces of debris falling from above. It sounded like thunder but way more angrier and intense.

Just a few more steps. They were so close.

On the last few steps, (Y/n) pulled Buck’s arm, pushing past herself, giving him just a little more speed.

Buck was just a few feet in front of her right now. Exiting the building three seconds earlier than (Y/n). Another crack sounded through the building as (Y/n) made her last few steps. She dived out the front door, falling onto the pavement as the entire building they were just in collapsed like a card house being blown down by air.

A huge plume of dust was sent in the air mixed with the smoke from the fire from inside. Buck was standing with his back towards the building as he protected the woman from the most dust. The woman was still conscious, but dizzy because of the amount of smoke that had entered her lungs.

(Y/n) pushed herself up, glaring at him as she caught their breath again, for the almost tenth time during this call. Hen took Ann over from Buck, bringing her back to triage as Buck turned on his heels facing the back of the one he was partnered with this call.

“See?” Buck with a grin on his face. “I told you we’d get her out.” he added. (Y/n) wasn’t amused. She closed her eyes as she shook her head softly to herself and sighed. She turned around to face Buck, who was still standing with that stupid grin on his face.

“And if I hadn’t stopped you back there, we’d be under that collapsed building right now.” she shot back, as she stepped closer. She took a deep breath, she had to calm down before she’d actually push him or do something she might regret. ”God, you’re insane-” (Y/n) said as she shook her head again, and walked past Buck making a beeline for triage.

She was not in the mood and didn’t have the energy to argue, but she wanted so badly to knock some sense into that brain.

Buck turned, as he followed her with his eyes. He opened his mouth to argue, but then Bobby appeared in Buck’s line of sight. “Buck, that’s enough.” he said with a sharp tone.

“But Cap-” Buck wanted to defend himself, but immediately got cut off by the voice of his captain. “No, no, no- I don’t want to hear it. Get to triage and regroup. We’re not done here.” Bobby pointed towards the triage, following Buck with his eyes as he walked towards the triage. Buck muttered something under his breath as he held his helmet in his hand.

(Y/n) took off her oxygen tank, placing it next to the ambulance to get some weight off of her. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she glanced over her shoulder. (Y/n) shook her head and she placed the oxygen mask by the tank.

“You’ve got your hands full with that one.” Another female voice said. (Y/n) turned on her heels as she heard the female voice talking. Hen was approaching her, giving her a knowing look. (Y/n) sighed as she brushed the dust from her gear. “If he keeps pulling stunts like that, I might actually lose it.”

Hen smiled at her knowing all too well what she meant. She shook her head, “I’ve seen him drive people crazy, but you? You’re giving him a run for his money.” she said.

Another sigh fell off her lips, taking off her helmet which she locked between her arm and the side of her body. She ran a hand through her hair that was covered in dust. “It’s like he’s got this hero complex, but zero common sense. He’s going to get himself or someone else killed one of these days if he keeps this attitude.”

Hen chuckled. “Oh, trust me, we’ve all been there with Buck. He’s got a habit of doing things before he thinks.” she said with a small smile.

(Y/n) crossed her arms, shooting a glance at Buck, who was checking on the victim they had saved minutes ago. “I don’t know how you guys put up with him.” she shrugged her shoulders as she looked at Hen with a desperate look in her eyes.

“Because when it matters most, he comes through,” Hen replied with a small smile as she glanced at the guy she thought of like a brother. “Annoying? Sure. Reckless? Sometimes. But his heart’s always in the right place.” she explained to (Y/n).

(Y/n) scoffed but couldn’t hide the corners of her mouth curling faintly. “Are you sure about that? His heart might be as stubborn as his head.” she said.

Hen laughed as she placed a hand on (Y/n)’s shoulder “Welcome to the 118. You’ll get used to him, eventually. And if you don’t? Well, at least it’ll be entertaining to watch you two go at it.” she told the newest recruit as she retrieved her hand.

(Y/n) shook her head, slipping their helmet back on. “If he pulls another stunt like that, ‘entertaining’ won’t be the word you’re using.” she laughed. Making Hen glance a smile at (Y/n) as they started walking back to regroup with the others. “Oh, I’m definitely going to enjoy having you around.”

_______

It has been quite a few hours into shift, and after the first call of the day. They had a few other smaller calls after the collapsed building one.

(Y/n) was sitting at the kitchen counter, her left elbow placed onto the surface as she had her chin placed onto her hand, reading the reports about what happened on scene. Looking for anything that might have been wrong in the report and they had to change.

It was already late at night, one by one, people were slowly going towards the bunk room, trying to get some sleep. But (Y/n) wanted this work to be done before she’d get to any other tasks. With her eyes locked on the papers that were spread over the counter, (Y/n) read the words in peace.

Buck walked towards the kitchen, on a mission to pour himself a cup of coffee as he swiftly glanced over at (Y/n) on his way to the kitchen. He almost never slept during a twenty four hour shift. He was standing with his back towards (Y/n), as he opened a cabinet from the kitchen and took a second to stare at the mugs on the shelves.

He glanced over his shoulder, looking at (Y/n) for a small second, and then back to the mugs. The feeling of guilt took over as he thought back to the first call of this morning. He let out a soft sigh as he grabbed two cups and got the can of coffee, pouring the two cups full.

With one cup of coffee in his left hand, and another one in his right hand he turned around as he walked over to (Y/n).

“Hey” Buck said, as he set one of the mugs down on the counter where she was reading. “Peace offering?” he added as he pushed the mug forward to (Y/n).

She looked up from her papers, and let her eyes wander to the mug he had placed in front of her. “Thanks” she said as she wrapped her hand around the cup and placed her other hand around it too to catch the warmth.

“Reviewing papers?” he said as he motioned his head towards the papers and placed his free hand onto the counter. Making her nod. “How is Ann? I mean you checked on her at triage.” (Y/n) asked curiously, as she looked at Buck. “She’s lucky, we got her out just in time.” he answered her question as he glanced over meeting her gaze.

(Y/n) nodded, as she let her eyes wander towards her mug again. The silence took over the conversation. It was a bit awkward maybe, especially after them arguing and Bobby coming in between the two of them to stop them.

“You did good this morning.” Buck finally said, breaking the silence. “Holding up that bookshelf.. You’re stronger than you look.” he added. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, making the corners of her mouth start to curl at the compliment she had just received. “And you’re heavier than you look. Pulling you forward and pushing you almost did me in.”

Buck scoffed and grinned at the words, as he ran a hand through his hair. “’ll take that as a compliment.” he said then, with a smile on his face. (Y/n) let out a soft laugh as she shook her head. “It wasn’t.”

At that exact moment, footsteps on the loft were coming closer. “You two are flirting already? Took longer than I thought.” Hen’s voice sounded. Making the both of them look to their side, finding Hen with a small grin on her face, glancing between the two of them.

“Not flirting!” (Y/n) defended herself, “She wishes” Buck added with a smirk, both saying the words at the same time. (Y/n)’s eyes shot towards Buck, “Keep pushing your luck Buckley.” she said.

Hen laughed as she continued walking, leaving the two alone again.

(Y/n) took a sip from her coffee as she turned her attention back to Buck, as did Buck. “I guess what I wanted to say is.. Thanks. I’d be a mess if you hadn’t pulled me out of there.” Buck continued as he swallowed the sip of coffee.

“You really need to stop acting like you’re indestructible, because you’re not. That stunt you pulled? Not smart.” she answered. Buck pushed himself off the counter as he placed his cup on the counter, his eyes softening. “Look, I get it. You think I’m reckless. And maybe you’re not wrong. But when someone’s life is on the line, I’m not going to waste time second guessing myself.”

(Y/n) closed her eyes for a quick second, as she placed her mug onto the counter too. “That’s not what I’m saying.” (Y/n)’s tone in voice shifted, her frustration overruling her voice, mixed with something deeper. “It’s not about you, it’s about the people who rely on you. Your team. The people you save. You get yourself hurt, and it doesn’t just affect you.” She could feel the tears burning in her eyes, trying to break through the barrier.

Buck opened his mouth to say something back, but her words were coming through harder than he had expected. For once, he didn’t have a quick comeback. She actually made him speechless.

(Y/n) shrugged her shoulders as she glanced away from him. “Just.. don’t make me have to dig you out of the rubble next time, okay?” she said. Buck looked at her for a moment before responding. “Deal” he said then, his voice quieter than before.

Her eyes wandered back, meeting his eyes and for a moment, it was only the two of them. The world around them didn’t seem to exist anymore. Buck’s usual annoying, macho behavior had left the room, leaving only quiet sincerity in his eyes.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all, Buckley.” (Y/n) said finally, her voice softer than usual. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like you like me.” Buck said as he quickly took a sip from his coffee with his eyebrows furrowed.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, as a smile appeared on her face. “Don’t push your luck.” she said as she gave him a small push on his arm.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

9-1-1 Masterlist | Next chapter >>>

[anothertimdrakestan]

Jealous Jason Todd Headcanon

~loooong requested hope you enjoy some brotherly competition~

- jason had no idea he wanted you until dick called "dibs" the first night he met jason's mysterious "friend" and newest bat-recruit

- at first, jason didn't care. like at all. but that never stopped him from being an asshole

- "my brother y/n really? what's there to like? i didn't see you as a musical theatre and dad-joke enjoyer" he'd scoff anytime dick tried to make a move

- that didn't stop richard fucking grayson.

- "hey! y/n! fancy seeing you here!" .. "it's the batcave dick i work here" .. "oh, well are you working all night? maybe we can grab some big belly burger after?" .. "we have patrol together you dork"

- honestly, it was endearing being adored, worshipped even. from handwritten poems, to a little mini batarang necklace, and all the weapons your heart could desire

- and for all his dork-tendencies, dick knew a thing or too about hand placement...

- "put me down richard" .. "you literally fell into my arms" .. "i would've landed on my feet" .. "sure princess, but aren't my arms a little better?" he'd tease, sweeping you bridal style out the back door of the gala you two had just rescued

- it was somewhere in between the gift giving, rooftop dates, and stolen glances that jason realized he might want -slightly, just a tiny bit- more.

- okay; he wanted you all to himself.

- but he's always been shit at explaining it

- where dick was obvious and flirtatious, jason started subtle: always inching closer to you, keeping a longing gaze set on your every move-even if it meant tripping himself up in battles- you noticed he would sooner get shot than let you catch a scrape

- and just like dick's coddling, it got annoying

- "jace i've been on the team for months, i think i can watch out for myself" .. "i know, i protect the people i care about" his response was almost a whisper, and before you could pry further, he disappeared, replaced with a familiar cheesy grin "hi y/n! wanna catch a movie tonight?" .. "uh, one sec dick! i need to check on jace"

- but jason was never anywhere to be found. every time he let you in, he disappeared just as quick.

- when you started toying with new weaponry jason was there, you still got butterflies remembering the way he pressed himself against you while fixing your form, his calloused fingertips lighting fires as he subtly adjusted your grip on your gun

- "jay is this right?" .. "mhm your grip is perfect, but the recoil will get you, slide your leg backwards to brace for the impact of firing" .. the minute his hand touched your thigh a shiver ran across your body, against your shaking will .. "oh, sorry i didn't mean to-" .. you cut him off "no it's good, you're good" but before you could turn around to unpack the cloud of tension in the room, jason cleared his throat and gruffly said "fire" ruining any chance of an emotional conversation. three perfect shots to the targets, and with a satisfying nod he was gone once again

- so when dick asked you out on a real date, to a restaurant whose menu alone gave you anxiety at the thought of ordering, you realized you had to give jason the ultimatum

- but for once in his (second) life, jason was way ahead of you.

- "you said yes to dick?" jason was sitting at your desk when you entered your own room, overly dramatic but it was jason todd after all.

- "do i have a reason to say no?"

- "you hate fancy restaurants. you need like a week to plan what you'll order otherwise you'll just be stressed the whole time"

- you rolled your eyes, but jason wasn't finished: "and you hate movies, sitting in one place watching a film you probably haven't heard of, pretending to enjoy the nuance"

- he wasn't wrong. "whatever jace, that doesn't-" .. "i can tell you what's gonna happen. he'll order a wine too sweet for your taste, and talk to the waiter enough to make you want to crawl under the table. then after a perfectly lovely dinner he'll take you to a rooftop to 'show you the sights' and you'll have your first kiss. but you hate the city skyline, it reminds you you're far from home. you like the sound of the ocean and the rusting of the forest. you like something real."

- your heart was in your throat. but you needed something more: "say it jason. don't tell me the future with dick. fucking say it."

- jason stood up, closing the distance between you, eyes now desperate and wild: "say what? that i've loved you since the minute i lost you? that i feel like ive known you forever? that i don't need to learn to love you like he does, i was built for it? that i feel like i was made for you? how do i put it in a few useless words"

- "you just did jay." you whispered, letting him lock his lips in yours with a smile.

- "please go break richard's fucking heart and come home to me." he grumbled, to which you agreed, letting dick down softly and promising to set him up with one of your friends in return for his kindness- a deal which he wouldn't let you forget

- years later, it was more of a household joke, dick claiming he was the catalyst to your and jason's lovestory. to which jason wholly despised, but you never minded giving dick a little credit

[kallie-den]

Rescue Hound Chapter One

Kione Monax, a mercenary pilot, is hired to rescue the captured, brainwashed Sartha Thrace. But getting her home and healing her mind prove to be very different things - and Kione's feelings for the hero threaten to pull her into the darkness when she discovers just how malleable Sartha can be

A new Warhound story!! The preceding stories can be found at this tag

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I  write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

---

Nothing makes Kione Monax feel good the way being saddled up in the cockpit of a huge mech suit does.

Cause it pays really, really well. Duh.

Provided you’re the best, of course. Kione doubts any of those fifth-rate Imperial grunt pilots they never seem to run out of get paid more than a pittance—not that they’ll ever live long enough to spend it, if she’s the one they’re up against. But Kione? She’s the best. Nowadays, at least. And that means she can name her damn price and the rebels will pay it, no matter how sour the looks on their faces when she comes to collect.

It’s not all about the money, obviously. Kione would be the first to admit that there is a very clear and distinct pleasure in being the very best. To ruling the battlefield like a queen. To tapping into the merciless rhythm of combat, and feeling the beat change when she decides it’s the moment - the moment to kick her Theaboros’s reactor into the red and soar, allowing herself just a single moment to drink in the stupefied, upturned, defeated faces of her prey before she puts them out of their misery.

Fuck, it’s good. It really gets her hot.

But it’s not better than money, because money was what had bought her the Theaboros and its wings, and its state-of-the-art systems, and its fresh coats of paint—for vanity, although sometimes she lies and calls it ‘branding’—and all the fancy drinks she buys for the very best hookers before she buys them too. That’s what life is all about. Not principles. Lots of people get big, stupid ideas in their heads once they’re sitting behind the controls of a sixty-foot mechanical god. If your ideas are big enough and stupid enough they start calling you a hero, and Kione is very, very determined not to end up as one of those. They always die bad.

That’s how scumbag mercenaries like Kione wind up as the best.

Hey, merc, comes a terse voice over a shitty, crackling radio, just as Kione finishes planting the charges, you better be in position.

Kione sighs quietly to herself before she answers: “I am. Plan B is in place.”

Good, says the girl on the radio. Get ready. And remember: no work, no pay.

Kione rolls her eyes. Why do people always feel the need to remind her? Contrary to popular slander, mercenaries aren’t cowards or turncoats. Any mech-for-hire who pulls that kind of shit just saw their very last payday. And besides, Kione refuses to help out the imperials. Just out of self-interest, of course—there’s no place for free spirits like her in the kind of world they’d like to build. She’s bloodied their noses more times than she can count, and you’d think that would win her some actual gratitude from the rebels she fights alongside.

Hell no. Kione had fought with unit after unit, recruit after recruit, and each one proves to be just as naively idealistic as the last. They all think they’re put here to save the world, and they hate that Kione knows she’s only here to make some hard cash. The girl barking orders at Kione over the radio is one of those. An idealist. A firebrand. She’d flashed Kione a nice, mean look before they’d shipped out. Stars in her eyes, hell on her lips.

Kione knew then and there she’d have to fuck her, once they made it back. It wouldn’t be hard. Girls like that always went for her once they saw first-hand how good she was. She went for them, too. She just loved to make them choke on her.

She’s here. Cut the chatter. Everybody focus.

At once, Kione lets go of her sleazy fantasies and gets herself back in the zone. Not for the first time, she wonders about the targets. How many? How well-equipped are they? Guess she’ll find out soon enough. Not that she can see shit right now, hanging from the underside of this colossal bridge.

It’s a good place for an ambush and a great place to get yourself killed if a thousand tons of reinforced concrete come down on your head before you know what’s happening. That’s why Kione’s there. That’s the truth of mercenary work: you get the real shit jobs. The ones they don’t expect you to walk away from.

Suits Kione just fine. She’ll groan and grumble until they pay her double, then prove she’s worth every penny.

For now, though, there’s only waiting. That gets to Kione the same way it does to every soldier. Eventually, her mech’s sensors pick up vibrations. Footsteps on the bridge above. Another machine. A pretty big one, too—but only the one, which prompts some serious fucking questions. Who the hell are they ambushing here? A high-value target, clearly. Maybe an imperial higher-up. But those don’t fly solo. A pilot, then? Some ace? It’d have to be. Kione can’t think of any other reason they’d pay her fees for a gig like this.

It has to be someone good. Someone only she can beat.

Kione finds herself grinning.

More waiting. The target is moving slow. A nice, steady march. It gets closer, and closer, and closer, until Kione can hear each step; can feel them reverberating through her body. Until the enemy is directly above her. The enemy mech’s footfalls are heavy and almost familiar. Despite everything, Kione is all but bursting with anticipation. She loves getting to put a rival ace in the dirt. Nothing better. But she knows she needs to be patient. She’s not the first wave. She’s the coup de grâce.

The radio crackles again. Now! Open fire!

An instant later, the air trembles with the report of a dozen guns. The rebels scattered themselves across the bridge, each pilot picking their ambush spot to secure kill zones and neutralize cover. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The rebels don’t have a lot of advantages over the imperials, but this is one of them: they’re good at this kind of guerrilla shit. As the barrage wears on, Kione’s grin starts to slip. She’s beginning to think they won’t need her after all.

Then, one by one, the guns go silent.

Kione can pick out each machine as it goes dark, just from the sound. No two rebel mechs are alike; consistent supply and production lines are a fleeting fantasy so each machine is somebody’s pet project, customized according to parts and needs. That makes it all too easy for Kione to count.

One down. Two down. Three down.

What the fuck?

It’s hard to believe, but Kione can hear it happening. Up above, the enemy mech pounds the bridge with its footfalls. That thing must be moving like a hound out of hell, dodging beams and missiles, throwing itself at one rebel after another. Its engine is deafening; an insane scream of tortured metal and unholy combustion that fuels the carnage. Screaming is just about all Kione can hear over the radio, too. The rebels’ comms discipline has broken down. They can’t make sense of how fast it's gone wrong.

Merc! Where the fuck are you?

That’s her cue. It’s the moment—and with a worthy foe, too. Kione can’t stop herself laughing nastily into the radio as she retracts the anchors keeping her attached to the bridge and slips into freefall.

And again, when she punches ‘startup’ on Theaboros’s flight system.

Mechs can’t fly, yeah? Everyone knows that. It just doesn’t make a lot of sense. You want to fly, you get in a plane. You’d need a stupid amount of thrust to get something as big as a mech suit in the air. A big engine won’t help. The tyranny of the rocket equation will murder you. Weight means fuel, fuel means more weight. The aerodynamics would probably be shit too. And that’s not even getting into the economics problem. Nobody can spare that much reactor fuel for just one machine. The best way to square the circle would be to build the entire thing out of some kind of crazy cutting-edge superalloy, but those are hell to get and worse to maintain. No; a flying mech would be a ridiculous vanity project. The imperials would never sanction it, and the rebels could never afford it.

Good thing Kione Monax has never worked for free a day in her life.

It helps that she built Theaboros smart—or at least, paid other people to. It’s a slender beast; tall, upright, almost human-like in its posture. It weighs a fraction of most of its rivals, and so when it spreads the six sleek, silver pinions mounted on its back, Kione can actually feel them catch the air. Every little helps when you’re fighting gravity.

But what really, really helps is the state-of-the-art antimatter reactor surging to life and pumping out a steady stream of anti-Fermion particles that singe the air around her mech a deep, unearthly red as they annihilate and, for just a fraction of a second each, keep the fundamental forces of the universe at bay.

With that on her side? Fuck yeah, Theaboros can fly. And Kione falls a little more in love with it every time.

It flies now, with her gripping the joysticks, gliding the unnaturally nimble machine between cables and tresses as she boosts clear of the bridge’s superstructure and tilts up, pulling a tight loop that brings her down onto the deck, ready to give her target the surprise of a lifetime.

Except, no.

Kione is the one left with her jaw on the floor when she sees who she’s up against. All at once, she realizes she was wrong before. It’s not someone only she can beat, because it’s the one person she never ever managed to beat, in all the long evenings they spent sparring together.

It’s Sartha.

It’s Ancyor, anyway. Or most of it. Actually, it’s more like Ancyor died and came back wrong. The base frame is still there; Kione can tell as much from that dragging, lupine gait as it lurches across the bridge. The exoskeletal armor is the same too. If anything, it looks even more beat to hell than usual. But beneath that, it’s all wrong. The reactor. The weapon systems. The raised, pneumatic hackles that augment those deadly claws. They’ve all been replaced. Upgraded. Imperial tech. It gives Kione the creeps. It’s like someone’s wearing her dead friend’s skin.

Whatever they’ve done to it, it’s clear Ancyor has lost none of its effectiveness. In its terrible, wake, Kione counts four of the mechs she shipped out here with lying in shattered, ugly heaps. They went down bad. Catastrophic kills. If anything, it looks like Ancyor’s pilot took special pleasure in plucking out and crushing each cockpit. That really gives Kione the creeps. Even Imperial pilots usually don’t sink that low.

At least she knows it’s not Sartha in there.

Unsurprisingly, the remaining three rebels have gone to pieces. They’re backing away, giving up the only tactical advantages they have—prepped positions and unit cohesion—and the radio channel is full of little more than panicked screeching. The squad leader, the girl who was barking at Kione earlier, is trying to instill some kind of discipline. It’s not working. She’s too young. They all are.

Take her down, damn it! she yells, when she sees Theaboros land. This is what we’re paying you for.

“You got it,” Kione mutters.

In all honesty, she’s weighing up the pros and cons of simply hitting the bricks and running. But she reminds herself: this isn’t Sartha. Just a pale imitation.

And besides, there’s money on the line. Duh.

In any case, the choice gets taken away from her when Ancyor turns its awful snout in her direction and starts barreling toward her.

“Shit!”

At once, Kione kicks her mech’s flight system into high gear. She manages to get enough thrust to pull up and clear—but only just. Ancyor is even faster than the last time they fought. Kione wheels around in the air to find her target, extending and clasping her long spear in Theoboros’s right hand. Once the weapon is deployed, its tip starts glowing red-hot as her systems reroute surplus reactor heat. Kione would prefer to keep Sartha’s hellhound at a comfortable distance, but CQC is the only good way to finish a fight sure and quick.

As soon as Kione sets her sights, she realizes that Ancyor has already turned to look up at her. Silently, four openings appear in its torso. An instant later, four wire-guided harpoons are coming right at her.

That’s new. Fuck.

Two of them, she manages to dodge. One, she bats aside with the flat of her spear blade. But the fourth, kept on target by tiny thrusters, buries itself in one of Theaboros’s long, slender legs. That’s not good. The damage itself is fairly negligible. What’s not negligible is Ancyor’s massive weight as it pulls the wire taut and starts reeling her in.

And, at the same moment, launches itself into the air with enough force to crack the concrete under its feet.

Kione’s display is filled with warnings she’s pretty sure she’s never seen before. She dismisses them with a furious gesture, but all she sees on the viewscreen afterward is the ruin of Ancyor’s face coming at her at an insane speed. No time to cut herself free, and no aerial maneuver Kione can think of is going to make a damn bit of difference with another mech weighing her down like an anchor.

So, stupidly, she does the only thing she can think of: she points her jets in the opposite direction and blasts herself straight down toward Ancyor.

Fifty feet in the air above the bridge deck, two meteors collide.

Ancyor has sheer mass on its side, but Theaboros has gravity and thrust. Kione is no rookie; getting her head knocked around in the cockpit isn’t going to ruffle her. She’s focused on what counts: getting this damn dog off of her.

It’s not easy. Ancyor is scrambling all over her, its wickedly sharp chain-claws working to find purchase. It’s clear whoever’s behind the controls knows Sartha’s style. They want to keep the two mechs bound together, grappling, where Ancyor’s sheer savagery makes it invincible.

All Kione can do is wield her long, elegant spear like a brawler’s stick, keeping it between them, leveraging them to try and force Ancyor away. Unfortunately, Theaboros isn’t great at this kind of contest of strength. It’s just not built for it. Desperately, Kione uses the flight system’s jets to throw the two of them into a series of loops, heads over feet, hoping the g-forces will destabilize the beast.

Of course, it’s just as likely that what happens is that Theaboros goes down face-first into the bridge.

Splat.

But maybe it’s working. Ancyor is starting to peel off. The harpoon comes loose and one of its arms slips, windmilling through the air. Kione presses the advantage, wrenching her spear around to make Ancyor’s grip untenable. After one last lunge that goes clean past her shoulder, Sartha’s mech is sent tumbling back down to earth where it belongs.

Wiping sweat from her brow, Kione grins. Get down, dog. The sky is all hers.

Then she notices the warning lights. She stops grinning as she realizes that last lunge didn’t go clean past her shoulder at all. It hit exactly where it was meant to. It ripped off one of her goddamn wings.

Ah. Well, that’s really not good.

Theaboros isn’t dead in the air. At least, not quite. But the thing about wings is: however many you’ve got, you probably don’t wanna be on less than that. Lest she choke her reactor to death, Kione is forced to ease off and touch down on the bridge. Once her baby has cooled off, she should still be able to pull off a trick or two.

Merc? You still breathing?

Kione’s glad radio girl is still here. Judging from the guns Kione hears, her surviving squadmates are too. Maybe they can still do this.

“I have a name, you know,” she grunts.

Yeah? Get us back to base in one piece, maybe I’ll think about learning it.

Kione cackles at that. She likes a girl who can keep her head.

“You can buy me a drink instead,” she tells her. “You already know my name. If you’re not careful, I’ll make you say ‘please’ when you use-“

She cuts herself off when she sees what’s about to happen.

Kione never takes her eye off the ball, but it’s taken her a moment to stop seeing white. Now that she has her sights on Ancyor again, she’s realizing it’s not nearly as debilitated by its fall as she’d hoped. It always was freakishly tough. And it’s doing the worst thing it possibly could. Worse even than coming at Kione again while her flight system’s cooling down.

It’s going after the easy prey.

In a single bounding leap, Ancyor hurls itself at the rebel currently spray-and-praying it with ineffective beam fire. The poor bastard freezes up, and Ancyor lands squarely on their shoulders.

It doesn’t need weapons. Its weight does the work. Even Kione flinches from the crunching sound.

No!

It’s radio girl. So much for keeping her head. Maybe she knew them well. Maybe it’s just one loss too many. Either way, because she’s one of those rebel idealists, she’s doing the brave thing. The stupid thing.

Breaking cover. Trying to save her comrade.

Idiot. That’s exactly what a predator like Ancyor wants

There’s some distance between the two of them, but nothing Ancyor can’t cross in the blink of an eye. It’s happening half the bridge’s length away. Theaboros has a rifle, but the stopping power is nowhere near enough. Kione can already see exactly what’s going to happen. Radio girl is going down. No chance her last squadmate sticks around after that happens, which leaves Kione trapped in a one-on-one. Not good odds.

So, the right move is obvious: ditch. Now. The mission’s a bust. Losing Kione’s pay is better than losing her life. As long as she takes off right this second, she should be able to make it out clean.

All she’s gotta do is outrun the other rebel, right?

Kione sighs. It’s an easy choice. But here’s the rub: she really was looking forward to that drink with radio girl.

So much for letting the reactor cool.

As Theaboros throws itself forward at her command, Kione punches the reactor straight back into the red. The thrust alone has her in the air; Kione works the flight system with a master’s touch, pitching her machine slightly off-axis to compensate for the wing she lost. It’s a rough ride. Her baby’s running too hot. The wingtips are starting to disintegrate. Antimatter annihilation’s a bitch. Kione doesn’t want to think about how much the repair bill’s gonna come to this time.

Instead, she just grins.

You thought your ride was fast, Sartha? Think again.

Ancyor lunges. Radio girl is right under its outstretched claw. Theaboros is hurtling toward them at a truly unwise speed. In the cockpit, Kione is rattling around like crazy—but she doesn’t let up. She only has a fraction of a second. No time to shoot, no time to strike, no time to parry. Only time to do something dumb.

Theaboros rams into radio girl shoulder first, shoving her out of the way. She raises her left arm in a feeble bid to fend off their attacker. The impact with the rebel mech wreaks havoc on Theaboros’s frame.

And then Ancyor’s claws rip her arm off.

Shit.

No time to take stock of the damage. No room to get her balance. No heat overhead to spend on a boost. Ancyor just keeps coming. It switches targets to Theaboros without missing a beat. Kione stumbles back just barely out of reach, wheeling her spear in a furious series of parries and ripostes.

Not furious enough. Nothing’s as furious as Ancyor. It matches Kione step for step, blow for blow. Only a matter of time until one of them lands home. Kione grimaces. At least radio girl is free and clear—not that that’s worth much. Can’t get paid if you’re dead, and she’s sure starting to feel dead. Theaboros has taken up too much damage to put up an even fight.

Kione snorts, despite everything. What, is she making excuses for herself?

That’ll look great on her tombstone. Kione Monax: it wasn’t fair.

It stings that it’s not even true. Now that she’s at the right distance to get a good look at Ancyor, it’s plain enough that it took a fierce beating in the rebel ambush. Radio girl’s crew wasn’t so bad after all. They took some mean chunks out of its armor. All over Ancyor, clouds of leaking coolant hiss and exposed electricals crackle. At least one or two major servos are missing. It must be handling like a pig right about now, but it’s moving like nothing’s happened. Whoever’s behind the controls is just that good.

Which begs the question, doesn’t it?

Who the fuck is piloting that thing?

Sartha Thrace is dead. Kione made her peace with that a long time ago, and she has no time for stupid rumors. But now she can’t help but wonder. Who else could handle Ancyor like this? From their sparring sessions, Kione recognizes all the little trademark moves. Hell, the only reason she’s lasted this long is because she has a sense of Sartha’s cadence. It’s like she’s fighting her friend’s ghost.

No, not her ghost. Something worse. Sartha was never quite like this. Never quite so heedless of herself. Never so proud she wouldn’t simply retreat from this kind of ambush. This animal ferocity—Kione has seen it before, but it was always a rare thing. It came over Sartha only when something drove her to her very limit. This pilot? It’s like she’s got all of that side of Sartha, and nothing but. Her rage and violence, distilled. Purified.

A shiver runs down Kione’s spine. It’s so wrong.

Merc?

That’s her radio girl. Kione rolls her eyes. She’d been hoping the rebel pilot would just run. If both of them die trying to save each other, she’s gonna throw up. That’s just too much.

“You clear of the bridge?”

Yeah.

Thank the gods.

Her distraction almost spells her end. Theaboros is driven yet another step backward and almost trips off the side of the bridge. Kione glances behind. She’s out of space. Shit. Shit! There has to be something left. Kione knows it. She feels it. This can’t be the end. Not of her. Not yet. She’s too good. There has to be something.

A plan B.

Oh, right.

Kione checks her reactor. Flight still isn’t on the menu. It’s gonna be ugly.

“Radio girl?” Kione calls out, as Ancyor brings its claws up for an overhead blow. She raises her spear to meet it. Sparks fly as the weapons meet.

Who- yeah?

“Plan B. Blow it.”

To her infinite credit, radio girl doesn’t hesitate, which means Kione only knows it’s happening when the ten thousand-ton reinforced concrete bridge under her feet suddenly isn’t.

In desperation, Kione throws herself over the edge. A drop is one thing. But getting crushed? That’s what’ll kill you. Unfortunately for her, the bridge is already falling. She can’t kick off cleanly. Best she can do is scramble at asphalt and rebar that’s quickly turning into little more than dust while she overboosts her flight system as far as it’ll go.

It’s good enough—almost. For just a moment, Kione thinks she’s threaded the needle. She’s going to glide clear.

Then Ancyor comes flying at her one last time.

How it managed a leap like that, Kione will never know. The way it screams as it comes at her almost stops her heart. It gets close. Way too fucking close. But Kione manages to wheel her machine around, kicking its legs up and out of Ancyor’s reach.

Not the wings, though. It gets another one of those.

That’s bad. Extremely bad. Kione suddenly realizes she ought to have been more appreciative of only being down the one wing.

Mercifully, Ancyor falls away and disappears into the bridge’s wreckage at the base of the valley. That’s a mercy. But Theaboros isn’t much better off. Spitting smoke and almost completely out of control, the best Kione can do with it is a crash landing.

But hey, any landing you can walk away from. Right? And Theaboros can still walk. It just can’t do anything else.

Kione lets herself throw up in the cockpit. That’s a first.

A minute or two later, while she’s slowly picking herself up, radio girl comes skating down the wall of the valley. Her mech is a bit shit—common enough, for rebels—but it looks a damn sight better than Theaboros right now.

Holy shit, radio girl calls out. You’re alive! You… you saved me.

She’s got that naive awe in her voice, like she’s talking to some hero. Kione frowns. Can’t have that.

“Don’t get used to it,” Kione retorts gruffly. “You die, who’s gonna make sure I get paid? Duh.”

She senses radio girl bristle a little, but it’s not quite enough to penetrate that thick coat of rebel sincerity. Thank you, Kione, she replies earnestly.

Even though it almost makes her throw up again, Kione laughs thickly.

“Told you. You already know my name.”

Now she senses the other pilot blushing.

Well, shit, radio girl says after a moment, as her mech’s head turns toward the ruins of the bridge. We really fucked this up. I don’t know how I’m gonna explain this to command.

Kione happens to disagree with the ‘really fucked this up’ part of that assessment. She happens to think she pulled off a goddamn miracle, actually. But then, she still doesn’t know what they were really after. Who they were really after.

Wait, radio girl says slowly. Is that… oh gods, I think that’s her.

Before Kione can ask, she’s dashing for something she’s spotted in the wreckage. Kione makes Theaboros limp after her. When she spots it too, her eyes go wide.

It’s Ancyor.

It’s almost in one piece. Almost. Tough son of a bitch. Kione half-expects it to come roaring at them again, but once radio girl shifts the bridge pylon that landed on it, she sees that Ancyor has finally given up the ghost. It’s not beyond repairs but the torso is cracked open like an egg, leaking oil and worse in a steady stream. Looks like the protection systems deployed OK, at least.

Which means the pilot might actually be alive.

Sure enough, as radio girl peels away one half of Ancyor’s ruined cockpit, Kione sees her—and for the first time, she’s completely and utterly lost for words.

Lying there, battered and bleeding and unconscious but very definitely alive, dressed just like usual except for what looks freakishly like a fucking muzzle strapped to her head—is Sartha.

Sartha Thrace. The hero. Kione’s friend.

“She…” Kione splutters eventually, overcome. “But… how did… all this, just for…”

Yeah, radio girl answers. All this was for her.

There’s something in the rebel’s voice. Something at once sorrowful and unbearably hopeful. Kione has never heard anything quite like it. But, uncomfortably, she realizes it was in her voice too.

She’s the objective. We’re bringing Sartha Thrace home.

---

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who  support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following  patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

Artemis, Chloe, Grillfan65, The Secret Subject, Morriel, Dex, orangesya, dmtph, MegatronTarantulas, Madeline, BTYOR, Sarah, Mattilda, Emily Queen of sloths, Neana, Shadows exile, Abigail, Hypnogirl_Stephanie_, Jade, mintyasleep, Michael, Tasteful Ardour, Chris, Dennis, Full Blown Marxism, Morder, S, Brendon, Drone 8315, Jim, Erin, HannahSolaria, hellenberg, Kay, Miss_Praxis, Violet, Noct, Charlotte, Faun, BrinnShea, B, Foridin, Jennifer, EepyTimeTea, Phoenix, Jim, Sebastian, Joseph, Yaoups, Thomas, Liz, naivetynkohan, Basic dev, SuperJellyFrogEx, Katie, Lily, spyrocyndersam13, zzzz, Mal, Bouncyrou, Nimapode, Kunoichiru, Ash, Artemis, Geckonator, TheRealG, Anonymous, J, nathan, GladiusLumin, Ada, Marina, Space Prius, Alex, Michael, Thomas, Dasterin, Djura, Pluto, Daedalus, Joe, Mattilda, Ana, proletkvlt, DOLLICIOUS, Yodasgirl, Allie~, Cusco-, Griffin, Bouncyrou, Hazelpup, Jakitron, Leah, Alan, ravenfan, Ash, ferretfyre, Christopher

[mackjlee9]

okay so i got another idea with leon 🥴 totally up to you if you're interedted in writing it

i was thinking of something like reader being Leon's bisexual awakening since he was recruted by the government but he has never liked another man before so he literally was kinda clueless until Claire was like "sir the demons you're fighting is bisexuality" and everything inside Leon clicked cuz for YEARS man has been wondering "mhm why do i get this horrendous feeling when some atractive dude is talking to him and why I kinda wanna kiss him?" Until after the infinite darkness shit happens and reader finally asks Leon out and they finally smooch lmao. (I kinda see claire being the one setting them together bc seeing how oblivious both are is annoying.)

This ended up... A little different 😅

Leon Kennedy x Male!Reader [Fluff]

All the timelines in this one shot; after re2, before re4 (+mention of the mission), re:degeneration & re:infinite darkness.

Masterlist.

Resident Evil

Well, that's strange.

Leon just ignored the weird sensation he felt when his eyes landed on (M/n). This was the first time he had seen the man in person after being recruited to work for the U.S Government, however, he had heard a lot about him and he already looked up to him and admired him, of course, he never said that, especially after seeing how some reacted to being called "hero" and such, so he kept his admiration for himself.

(M/n) was known around for working close to the President, for getting his job done quickly and efficiently, and for deciding to stay alone everywhere he went.

With the few people Leon had talked to, that had known (M/n) for longer, they had told him how the (h/c) haired male had remained working without a partner for years, after his entire unit was wiped out when he had barely gotten started as an agent.

For years, Leon has spent every day of his life feeling like he was invisible to (M/n) since he was mostly focused on his task at hand or gone on a mission, but there was the occasional glance at him that would make him flinch and smile, or the rare moments where (M/n) would smile at him and Leon just couldn't hold back the bright smile growing on his face, looking down as his face heat up.

He's so handsome... I wanna kiss-

"Kennedy!" He was interrupted from his thoughts when he heard his name being called, one of his the President's agents was beckoning him to follow which he did, the stoic expression returning to his face, "Come on."

Just then Leon realized he was being taken to the President's office and he wondered what the reason could be. Did he do something wrong? Was he gonna get fired? Or... Terminated?

He was having a full panic attack in his brain but remained with an expressionless face as always, taking quiet steps into the office.

"I brought him over, sir," the President, Adam Graham, who was standing looking out the window, turned around to look at Leon. He signaled the couch for him to sit as he walked over too, sitting across from the blond.

"I have a mission for you, Leon."

Turns out, his daughter Ashley had been kidnapped when she was coming home from her college in Massachusetts and he was the agent assigned to rescue her. Leon itched to ask why him specifically when (M/n) was basically the best agent, and Adam smiled as he held back a chuckle, enjoying the confusion on Leon's face.

"Agent (L/n) was the one that recommended me to give you this mission, he has other stuff to do and apologized for not being able to do it himself, but he said he trusts your abilities," he stood up and extended his hand at Leon, "and so do I."

Leon felt his body getting warmer and he stood up, holding the President's hand with a firm grip, determination shining in his blue eyes.

"I will bring her back safe, sir."

//////

It was only a couple of days later when Leon arrives back home, and observes how Ashley runs straight to her father's arms, crying after everything they had gone through in Spain.

Leon sighs at the sight and rolls his right shoulder, feeling the tense muscles twitching slightly after all the stress he was put through... And now he had to do the paperwork, so annoying... I just want a beer, dinner, and fucking sleep for a month.

While he was debating whether he should silently leave or wait, a hand was placed on his shoulder, its warmth seeping through his shirt.

"Well done, Leon," it was (M/n). Leon turned to look at him, lips parting slightly and cheeks heating up at the sight of (M/n)'s gentle smile.

"I, uh... Thank you, sir," he stuttered for a moment before regaining his composure, talking with a serious tone, and he saw how (M/n)'s nose crinkled.

"There's no need to call me sir, just (M/n) is fine," Leon lets out a deep sigh when he hears the sound of (M/n)'s laugh. And again, he couldn't help but think how attractive the man was.

Leon was so confused and felt strange at these thoughts he kept having- that he always sort of had but were much more often and intense than in previous years, and he wondered why it happened, he just assumed it was the fact that he looked up to (M/n) and thought he was an impressive and very skilled agent, that he did, he really did, but there was something else there.

In the following months (M/n) and he had gotten quite close, and had been assigned partner on many missions.

And now, standing outside the airport and out of hearing range, observing with a confused frown how the woman he called friend was laughing at him.

"Can you not laugh at me, Claire? I'm being serious," the red-haired woman wiped the tears gathering in her eyes and stared into Leon's eyes, releasing muffled chuckles before she could articulate her sentence, "Claire."

Leon was about to leave as he felt like one of the few persons he could trust was making fun of him, but she held his arm as he apologized.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just..." Her smile widened, a painful glint shining in her eyes, "That thing you're feeling is called... Attraction, Leon, you feel attracted to (M/n), even if you're both guys," Leon's frown deepened, crossing his arms over his chest, more confused than before.

"But I'm not gay," Claire looked at him as if he was dumb, which well... He kind of was, but anyway-!

"I'm not saying you're gay, Leon," she placed her hand on his shoulder, "Do you feel attraction toward women?" The blond nodded, fully convinced of this fact and Claire chuckled again, "Do you feel attraction toward men?"

Now it took Leon a while longer to answer, blinking repeatedly every few seconds, searching in his memories if he had ever felt attracted toward a man, other than (M/n), and well... Yeah, he kind of did.

"I think so..." He mumbled, and Claire made eye contact with him.

"That's called bisexuality, Leon, and there's nothing wrong with that," while Claire turned around and started walking away, she glanced over her shoulder and winked at Leon, "Go ask him out, I'm sure he won't reject you anyway."

//////

The only wrong thing was realizing and coming to terms with that for Leon. Even more so because he has found himself staring for longer periods of time at (M/n)'s eyes, lips, neck, chest... His whole body was making him react like a horny teenager and well, he couldn't say he hated it, but he didn't want it to happen as often as it did, especially at work.

Leon just had to live with the knowledge of being bisexual... Which was proving to be harder than he had initially assumed. Feeling internally conflicted whenever he saw (M/n) working out and covered in sweat, or when they both walked into the bathroom to take a shower. Poor Leon, he was down bad and... Kind of horny too.

But now, after being done with a mission in Pittsburgh involving bioterrorism, they were both getting in the helicopter that had come to pick them up after being called on an important reunion with the President, wanting them to arrive as soon as possible.

The ride was pretty much silent, but there was a moment when his mind had started wandering around, the gruesome images they had seen back there flashing in his mind, making him sick to his stomach, and he knew Leon was thinking and feeling the same way with how quiet he was.

Looking at him, (M/n) saw Leon's hand laying still on his lap and he reached over to hold it, effectively catching him off-guard. Leon looked down at their hands before looking up at (M/n), who showed him a reassuring smile while squeezing his hand, telling him a silent 'I'm here'. Leon felt glad at the gesture and wordless reassurance, smiling back at (M/n) and squeezing his hand too.

He could feel how his heartbeat sped up, his stomach getting all tingly, and his face heating up with a blush. (M/n) saw Leon's whole body relax as he took a deep breath, turning to stare out the window again.

The pilot wanted to say something but soon realized he was gonna ruin some sort of moment so he remained quiet, only talking when he was approaching the heliport and required confirmation for landing.

//////

(M/n) almost didn't want to stay locked there until they came back, but the President had asked him to and he couldn't refuse an order from the man, so he did as told.

"Careful out there, Lee," Leon nodded and started running after Jason and Shen May, something wasn't right, but he didn't have the time to think about it, he had to enter the bunker and protect the President- everyone present if needed.

During the whole duration of this mission, (M/n) only craved one thing, being with Leon, and now, as they flew in the President's private jet to Penamstan he couldn't stop thinking about seeing and being with him. Leon hasn't communicated with him yet and even though he tried not to, he was worried, definitely worried about him despite knowing his abilities.

(M/n) followed the President and stood in the crowd, deciding on playing the part of a security guard. He observed Patrick stop Adam before he reached the podium and he told him something, before he resumed his way and stood there, speaking into the microphones. He was not too sure of what Adam had said, and couldn't pay much attention when, right as the President finished his speech, his phone rang in his pocket, taking it out and reading the message that showed on the screen.

"You wanna grab some dinner and a few beers back home?" (M/n) didn't find it in himself to feel mad at Leon when he was being this adorable without realizing it.

"Sure, but I expect an explanation, Kennedy," Leon saw the message pop up and he smiled at it, chuckling to himself and blushing as he walked away and into the elevator, completely oblivious to Claire's sweet smile.

Contacting Patrick briefly, Leon made his way toward them, nodding to the curly-haired male as a greeting, smiling and waving at (M/n) when he saw him walking toward them.

Standing there while they waited, Leon proceeded to explain to them what had happened, besides the brief explanation he had given to Patrick. Hearing everything made (M/n) really mad at himself for not excusing himself before running after Leon to help, he knew he wasn't a damsel in distress but... The thought that something could've happened to Leon and he wouldn't have known...

It was painful. And he realized that... He couldn't keep holding back his feelings for him anymore.

The three of them watched how the President left, and now they had to sort stuff out there, go to the U.S embassy and such, but now, with Patrick saying a quick bye, (M/n) and Leon have been left alone, staring at the sunset.

It was beautiful truly, but (M/n) would rather miss it just to stare at something beyond beautiful, something angelic and close to perfection.

His eyes were only looking at Leon, observing how pretty his blue eyes looked reflecting the warm colors of the sun, and he finally found it in himself to talk.

"A hero, eh?" Leon turned to look at him and (M/n) swears he saw him blushing before he glanced away with a chuckle.

"Is everyone gonna call me a hero now then?" (M/n) only smiled in response, and soon the silence continued, but neither of them minded, silences were always comfortable when they were together.

But there was still this nag in the back of (M/n)'s mind, thinking how everything could've gone to shit, and he needed Leon.

"Leon..." He heard (M/n) whispering his name and he turned to look at him, frowning when he realized the conflict obvious on his face, "Just... Hit me if you don't like it, okay?"

Before Leon had time to process his question, he saw (M/n) getting closer and closer, finally pressing their lips together. Leon was left wide-eyed, but a moan left his mouth at the feeling of (M/n)'s lips on his, lifting his arms and wrapping them around the (h/c) haired's neck, kissing him harder and a little bit rougher.

"I could never hit you," was the first thing Leon said when he pulled back, laughing a bit, "And you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he mumbled against (M/n)'s lips before kissing him again, their lips moving together in a slow pace, wide smiles plastered on their faces.

(M/n)'s hands placed themselves on Leon's hips, and pulled back again, pressing their forehead together.

"Exactly... How long, hm?" Leon chuckled feeling rather shy at the question, but rather more at the answer.

"About a year ago, when... I realized you were my bisexual awakening," (M/n) bit his lip and held in his chuckles.

"Well," he pulled Leon closer to his body, opening his eyes and leaning closer to Leon's ear, "I'll hope I can awaken more things in you, darling."

[barefoothighlander]

Hi! I hope you're well.

I have a request that may not be achievable and thats okay! Really, its just a thought.

What if the reader is a new recruit to the team and has the nickname 'Reaper' due to her skull Balaclava and skill (https://www.tumblr.com/men-wearing-masks/652072573328392192/skull-mask-week-day-47?source=share) from her other teams.

They're mainly a sniper but are amazing at everything. They're smaller than the rest of the team (I'm picturing an afab) but they're silent and bring death with them.

For example; Ghost is noticeable by his naturally intimidating presence but Reaper cannot be noticed unless you're actually looking for them, and when they pass, it feels as if a cold shiver has gone down your spine.

I picture this being a Ghost x reader because they're just as good as ghost, if not better, and everyone teases him about that. Making jokes about how reader is on top because a Reaper is higher up the chain than a ghost. Then I feel like on a mission reader gets sick of it, but in an attempt to be 'part of the team' they make a joke that's sexual in nature about her being on top which just sets ghost off.

If you don't do anything with this, totally understand, hope this wasn't just a silly rant though 'xD

Much love,

🔳

ok, sorry this took me so long to respond to I was trying to flesh it out but I hope it fits what you imagined

warnings: typical violence, death

“Hostiles are taken care of, you’re clear for entry” You call it in through your comms, you’re sat high on a hill, hidden from view by the dark as the team infiltrates.

“Copy Reaper, moving in”

You walk as Ghost and Soap make their way into the building, changing your sight to check in on windows.

“I’ve got eyes on two, south east window”

No response

“Alpha team I’ve got eyes on two, how copy?”

The comms are silent, you don’t think you just move, sprinting down the hill before you’re in front of the target building, you can hear the echoes of gunshots.

“Soap I’m at the entrance, what’s going on in there”

You hear someone inside yell, deciding to rush in to cover, you make your way through the rooms, clearing them before heading up the stairs to follow the noise. You see muzzle flashes at the end of the hallway, you slowly make your way down before turning into a room, Soaps backed against a wall struggling with one of the men, you raise your gun to fire but your arms are quickly pushed away,

“Reaper, on your left”

You struggle against the man in front of you, using your foot you kick at his knee knocking him down, your knife raising to plant in his neck before you pull it out, throwing it across the room, it lands in the shoulder of the man strangling Soap, he screams in pain and Soap is able to push him off to kill him.

“Thanks”

You nod your head, “Where’s Ghost?”

“We split down a hallway, comms went dead a few seconds after”

“Why do these always turn into rescue missions”

“Maybe he likes being saves by you”

You roll your eyes at him, picking up your gun and advancing around the building, there’s no sign of Ghost in the rooms.

“Stay inside, I’ll search the perimeter” You say

“Stick to the shadows” Soap winks

You make your way outside, creeping around the dark spots of the yard as you slice through the few remaining hostiles, you come across Ghost in the garage, he’s focused on some computer as you approach.

“Thought you went missing”

Your presence surprises him,

“Clear the building?”

“No thanks to you”

“I did my part” He gestures towards the two dead men on the opposite side of the room, “Got what we came for, let’s go”

You meet back up with Soap at the front of the house, making your way to the rendezvous point,

"You better thank your God that Reaper was here to save your ass LT"

"I was fine"

"Not counting the hostiles swarming you" You jump in

Ghost glares at you as the three of you make your way onto the heli for evac. Arriving back at base Ghost is practically silent, sparing you few words during your ride while Soap talks your ear off, there's something off about Ghost but you can't place it, you decide to leave it be.

The base is bustling when you arrive, people running everywhere, your attention being drawn all around until Price shouts for you,

"Reaper, need you on the next car out"

"Just me Sir?"

"Just you, need the best" He nudges your shoulder, you turn to see Ghost standing behind you, fists clenched at his side,

"You've got competition LT" Soap jokes running past you, Ghost walks away without a word, leaving you standing alone.

Your mission was a success, in and out, just you with Price covering from the sky. You managed to clear the building without being detected, sticking to the shadows as you dropped hostiles one by one.

Your muscles ached arriving back, simply wanting to shower and sleep except Soap had forced you invited you to join the team for a drink, figuring it was an easy way to fit into the team you accepted.

The team was already a few drinks down when you arrived, Ghost catching your attention as he sat in the corner, leaned back in his chair.

"There ya are" Soap shouts from across the pub, hollering you over to their table, you sit and he hands you a beer, you feel the cool glass against your warm palm, eyes darting around the room.

"So is there something about the masks that the rest of us don't get?" Soap asked, pointing between you and Ghost, you tilt your head in question,

"No, no correlation"

"Just coincidence?"

"Just coincidence" You nod

"Well just seems that LT's been knocked down a peg since you showed up, no longer the scary lad in a mask compared to you"

You glare to your side, you can see how Ghost's face contorts under his mask, fumes practically coming from his face,

"Ghost is just as good as me"

"Ghost can't do what you can believe me," Soap laughs, taking another sip of his drink

"That'll do Johnny" His voice booms in your ears,

"You think you're better than me Ghost?" You say, suddenly filled with courage, he doesn't afford you a response, he simply stares back at your masked face.

"You do" Your words are cut off by Johnny

"Is it that mask?" He turns to Ghost,

"What?"

"S'that why you're always buggin' Reaper, you like them, some sort of mask kink?"

Your eyes go wide at his words, your chest suddenly feeling tight,

"You like a strong woman LT?" Soap laughs

Ghost's next movements are quick, he stands from the table practically knocking over everyone's drinks before his hands are at Soap's throat, Price jumps to pull him off but it's no use.

"Keep your fuckin mouth closed Sargeant"

Soap sobers up instantly, nodding under Ghost's grip before being released, there are murmurs around the pub as Ghost exits, the air is thick with tension.

The rest of the night was quiet, the men keeping their jokes to themselves out of fear of Ghost somehow hearing. The next day on base was even more awkward, strange tension between the team had unfolded as Ghost barely spoke a word to anyone all day.

A few hours later you make your way to the gym, completely surprised to see the Lieutenant there you eye him as you enter, setting up on the large mat in the centre of the room.

You watch as he moves to stand in front of you, his stare pinning you down,

"Ready?" He asks, you nod before lunging at him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you dig your feet into the mat trying to push him backward.

You grapple for a few minutes, both of you refusing to tap out, intent on proving you are better than the other, you manage to trip him and he falls with his back flat on the mat. Your legs move to straddle over his torso, your arms pinning him down as you cover his form, your heavy breaths filling the air.

"Guess I really am on top" You laugh

Without a second thought, he thrusts his hips, throwing you off him so he can flip your form, pinning you against the mat, you're caged under his form as he pins you flat, there's no chance of getting out. You writhe against his grip but he doesn't falter, simply staring you down,

"Give up?"

"Not a chance" You continue to struggle against his grip,

"You're just gonna tire yourself out"

"Using weight against your opponent is cheating"

"It's smart, you're small but quick, and I'm more than double your size"

"Get off" You huff

"Tap out"

"Admit I'm better than you"

He laughs at your words, releasing his grip before standing, he lets you get up, your hands rubbing at your wrists as you move across the room, you turn around and he's in front of you. He forces you back his strides pushing you back until you collide with the wall, you tilt your head from him, his mouth inches from your ear, you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin.

"You may be better in the field" He pulls back to face you, his dark eyes glued to yours as your body stands still, "But I'm always on top" You can see his smirk under his mask as he leaves, you're frozen in your spot, his words replaying in your head.

[torialefay]

☀️ Everyday Idol 🌙 (Chapter 3)

✨ head on over to my masterlist if you haven’t read chapters 1 & 2!

✨possible bangchan x reader (f), possible jungkook x reader (f)

✨wc: 4.3k

✨ friends to lovers? possible love triangle? future angst and smut??? definitely fluff.

✨ summary: JYP Entertainment launches a new show and y/n somehow gets recruited. Even though she doesn’t particularly care about the outcome of the show, she does particularly care about one of the artists she met: Chris from Stray Kids. Does Chris feel the same or will a potential relationship with one of his friends overcome what y/n feels for him?

✨ author’s notes: pls pls pls let me know if you’d prefer shorter, more frequent chapters like this one, OR longer chapters posted about once per week. i’m heavily debating lol

✨ warnings: cursing from time to time.

Previous Chapter Recap:

Dang, another instagram notification. Maybe Jungkook WAS really into you. You tapped to open the chat again.

gnabnahc: Hey! I know this is random, but if you have any time tomorrow, could you meet me in my studio? I’ll be around in the morning and at lunch after hair & makeup. If you have time of course, I understand if not. I just wanted to talk to you about something.

‘Good fucking God,’ your heart dropped. “Anna… I need you. NOW!” you screamed.

——————————————————————————————————

Y/n’s POV:

Anna quickly bolted into the bathroom, thinking you’d accidentally cut yourself shaving or something. She was determined not to let you bleed out. Med student to the rescue!

When she arrived, she was surprised to see you totally fine, but also totally naked, sitting on the lid of the toilet.

“Okay… WHY?” She looked down at you, eyebrows raised.

“Just come here,” you motioned for her with your arm. You extended your phone out for her to grab it.

“This is some Hollywood movie shit,” she laughed, handing the phone back to you.

“This isn’t funny!” you exclaimed. “What in the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Well do you want to see him?”

“Duh.”

“Then you’re going to find a way to see him. Just tell him you can’t in the morning and that you can late into lunch.”

“Yeah, only one problem. I’m supposed to be meeting Jungkook for lunch,” you rolled your eyes, now wondering if she had paid attention at all to your prior conversation.

“Okay, so tell Jungkook beforehand that you don’t have much time because of your schedule, and then go meet Chan. Who says you can’t have it all?” she grinned, raising one eyebrow.

‘Okay, good plan. Solid plan,’ you thought. ‘Unless…’

“Okay but I don’t know how close Chan & JK are. What if JK is telling him that we’re getting lunch together? Then I just look like a two-timing bitch.”

“Alright, and how do you know that JK hasn’t already told him and Chan is going behind his back?” ��Ain’t no way he’d do that,’ you thought. “I’m just saying, in all of your time with Chan, he never once mentioned JK. In all of our time with Changbin and Felix, they never brought him up either. I honestly don’t think they’re that close. Both of their fandoms would have figured it out by now if they are.”

‘Alright, let’s look,’ you thought, pulling your phone in front of your face again. You went to “X” (you still couldn’t get used to calling it that instead of Twitter) and typed in “jungkook bangchan”. Surely the detectives on here would know a thing or two. You scrolled and scrolled. A few tweets about the same thing- the 97 liners grabbing dinner together, but it was more than just the two of them. Not a single picture of them together otherwise. Not a story about seeing them together either. Maybe Anna had a point.

“Fuck it, I’m gonna do it,” you said, not knowing where your newfound confidence came from. Anna started giggling and took a quick seat beside you on the edge of the hotel’s bathtub.

Your fingers began to type quickly, not allowing yourself time to think. Or rather, overthink.

Hey Chris! I could stop by late after lunch? I’m not sure of a specific time yet, but I can text you later when I find out?

Send.

“Okay, it’s done,” you breathed out… You sat there for a moment, absorbing all of the feelings and trying to get the nerves out.

“Pinch me,” you said to Anna with a huff coming out from your bottom lip.

She reached over, laughing, nipping you in the arm. “I’m so happy for you I could cry,” she continued, keeping that same big smile on her face. “Butttt,” she leaned in closer and began to whisper, “whoever you don’t take, just remember I’m single.” She winked and you started to laugh, pushing her away.

“Whatever,” you said jokingly. “BUT I have to shower. Now I have two guys to impress.”

——————————————

Chan’s POV:

‘It’s alright Chris, don’t be nervous,’ he thought to himself, still planted in his studio chair. ‘The worst she can say is no. Well I guess she could laugh at it and tell all of her friends that you’re whipped. In which case, you’re fucked. But she wouldn’t do that, right?’

Chan’s mind got the best of him and he decided to start pacing. He needed to get his mind on something else… but what? His new song! Yes, his new song. He had been working on a hook and just couldn’t figure out where he wanted to go with it. ‘I need Jisung,’ he thought. He sent a quick text his way to see if he was busy. He couldn’t help but to re-read the message he had sent you. He clicked on your profile to view all of the pictures. Your dogs, your friends, your birthday party. He pictured what he would look like included in each photo. He let his mind wonder, looking at one photo in particular. You had been at the beach. He didn’t stick to that photo because of anything you were wearing. You were fully clothed. There was just something about it. The way your smile was lit up like you had not a worry in the world. The way the sun cast a golden color all over your beautiful face. The fact that the beach was Chan’s favorite. He thought about what it would be like to be there with you. Walking along the shore, getting to know you better. What was your family like? How did you like your eggs cooked? Where was your favorite place in the world? He let himself get lost in the scenario.

*BUZZ*

Your instagram username flashed across the top of his screen. He clicked as soon as he possibly could.

Y/n’s Instagram username:

Hey Chris! I could stop by late after lunch? I’m not sure of a specific time yet, but I can text you later when I find out?

‘Yes Chris, Yes! See, it was just a rumor. A dumb rumor. I mean JK would have told you since you were the reason they had met. He couldn’t possibly be that into her after meeting her for 2 minutes. You worried for no reason.’ He was elated. Ecstatic even. He looked down to his phone, stupid grin on his face.

‘Felix, you’re fucking dead for giving me a heart attack like that,’ he thought.

The little shit quit responding. ‘He’s got about 4 hours to text back before I get home and jump him.’ Chan thought. He sunk down into his chair. All of his excitement was now replaced with confusion. This was gonna be a longggg night in the studio.

——————————————————————

Felix’s POV:

“SUCK ON THAT!” Felix screamed sarcastically. He had spent the last 2 hours plopped on the couch next to Changbin. They made it a point to get together once a week, no matter how busy, to play a few video games together. Today’s choice: League. Felix lowkey kinda sucked, and he knew that. But he didn’t care because Binnie sucked even more.

“No, you suck on this,” Changbin yelled back, putting Felix in a headlock and giving him a noogie.

“Ah! Ah! Ahhhhh!” Felix screamed for help, trying not to die laughing. “Someone help me!” he yelled, while grabbing at Changbin’s arms to rip him off. It was no use. No matter how much Felix flailed his body and thrashed left and right, Changbin’s hold was even tighter. Eventually, he ran out of energy and decided to just lie there. Changbin released him right after.

“So you admit defeat,” Changbin raised his eyebrow. Felix had a dazed look on his face, hair fluffed up from Bin’s relentless hand movements. He was just grappling for his breath back at this point.

“I’ll take that as a yes! Yay, next round!” Changbin said enthusiastically, turning back around to the tv.

‘Brain need oxygen. Can’t form word,’ Felix thought to himself. ‘Lol I can’t believe I just thought that. Felix you so silly.’ He smiled and focused his attention on the tv now too. Well, for a split second. Until Chan came barging in.

“Felix!” he called, like he was a tornado coming through the front door. He walked a few paces before setting foot into the living room. Felix just looked up with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Mate! Why did you do that?!” He walked over and snatched Felix’s controller from his hand.

“Damn, if you wanted to play, you just had to ask!” Felix said back seriously. You could see the annoyance growing louder on Chan’s face.

“Oh my gosh Felix. Your text, cunt!”

“My… OHHH my text,” he smirked while (horribly) trying to look inconspicuous.

“You better tell me what you know right now,” Chan threw his fist down. He was trying to “act” mad, but honestly he was really bad at acting. He actually was mad.

“I don’t know anything,” Felix smirked again. “I swearrrr. Don’t you trust me?” He smiled, squinting his eyes up at Chan with a suggestive look on his face.

“No I don’t, you little shit! Now tell me what you know!”

“Never!” Felix pouted.

“Tell me!”

“NO!”

“Tell me!”

“NOOO!”

“I will break this controller, don’t try me!”

“No you won’t.”

“Yes I will.”

“No you won’ttttt.”

“Yes I will.”

“Bet, do it then.”

Chan lifted the controller in the air and huffed out... “You’re right, I won’t.” He reached it back down to Felix.

Felix, now satisfied, took the controller and happily bobbed his head from side to side. “Thanks Channie-hyung!” he teased.

“Fuck off,” Chan retorted. ‘I hate being a father,’ Chan thought as he turned around to storm out. Once he was out the door, Changbin turned his body around to Felix.

“What don’t you know anything about?” Chanbin laughed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Felix said with a flirty smile. “All I’m saying is it involved your mentee. That’s all, can’t talk about it anymore! New game, let’s go!” Felix avoided Changbin’s stares at all cost, fixating on the tv. Eventually Bin turned around to face it too, continuing on like nothing ever happened.

‘Fuck, that was close. Felix baby, you’ve gotta stop being so messy… Lmao who am I kidding, I love this shit.’

———————————————————————————————

Y/n’s POV: The next day

You arrived to the JYP building 10 minutes early to your professionalism training. You knew you would be able to see the finalized schedule first thing when you got there. All you knew so far was professionalism training at 9, hair and makeup, lunch, and begin shooting intros for the show. You had no clue how long each would take though.

You ran up in front of the big bulletin board posted outside of the conference room. You saw the agenda:

• 9:00 AM- Professionalism Training; Level 5 conference room

• 11:00 AM - 2:00 PM- Hair and Makeup; Level 7 shooting room; See list below for names and scheduled times

• 11:00 AM - 2:00 PM- Lunch break

• 2:00 PM- Shooting program material with mentors; Level 10 shooting rooms #1-5

• 8:00 PM- Dinner and drinks at Nine Mile Restaurant (see email for location and directions)

You quickly scrolled through the list of names below to see when you’d be scheduled for hair & makeup:

• Y/l/n, y/f/n: 11:00 AM

‘Fuck yeah,’ you thought. ‘Getting hair and makeup done first. It shouldn’t take over an hour, right? Surely not. They have new people scheduled for 12 and 1, so yeah, you’re good. No more than an hour.’ You quickly took your phone out to send a message to the 2 boys waiting to hear back from you.

To: abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz

Hey, I should be good to go around noon today. Do you still want to meet me outside the JYP building?

SEND.

To: gnabnahc

I could meet you around 1-1:30 today? Does that work for you?

You let out a hot breath and headed into the conference room. There, you found Anna who had already walked in while you told her you’d check for both your names on the bulletin board. You saw a couple of other girls you had met as well through the night with Stray Kids. They were Seungmin and Han’s mentees. You had all instantly connected that night and you were excited to spend more time with them.

Once you were settled in, you gave into the gossip that everyone was discussing.

“Yeah, I heard her dad works for JYPE high up in marketing and that’s how she got in,” Sunnie whispered to the group.

“OMG I heard that too!” Anna bounced up and down. “I’m not even sure where I heard it from.”

“Literally same. I also heard that one of the new cast members was,” Kara leaned down low, “hooking up with Jungkook,” she giggled. You had to physically stop yourself from your jaw dropping on the floor. You were not SLEEPING with Jungkook. You hadn’t even had fucking lunch with him yet!

“OMG who?!” Sunnie questioned.

“I don’t know, it’s just what I heard some of the other girls saying. I don’t think anyone knows,” Kara added. “Which meanssss, we’re gonna have to keep an eye out for Jeon Jungkook ladies. See who the culprit is,” she laughed.

You and Anna looked at each other, trying to fake a laugh right along with them. You were sure she could see the panic in your eyes.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come over the speakers and the lights began to dim. ‘Let’s get this training over with.’

———— 3 hours later ————

Abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: Out front waiting on you :) I’ve got on a black mask and baseball cap in case you don’t recognize me. That’s kind of the point haha

y/n: On my way down!

Your nerves were starting to get to you, but you tied them down. This was just two people getting lunch after all. That’s literally it. Plus, why would you be nervous anyway? You were the one that made a great first impression anyway. He was the one who had something to prove.

Plus, not to brag, but you looked damn good. The hair and and makeup department definitely knows what they’re doing.

*DING*

You arrived at the ground floor and quickly made your way out of the main exit. You scanned your head first to the right, looking for a black cap, then to the left. The problem was… There were like 10 of them.

‘Fucking hell, why does everyone have to dress the same?’ you thought. You wondered off to the left, seeing if you could get a better look. Suddenly, a black figure appeared next to you. You turned to see a bright-eyed Jungkook, mask covering the lower half of his face, stood straight and proud with the most beautiful bouquet you’d ever seen. Pinks, purples, blues, greens. All of your favorite colors incorporated into one. Was this a sign?

“Y/n! Hi! I brought these for you,” you couldn’t see his mouth, but by how scrunched up his eyes got, you assumed he was smiling.

“Oh my goodness, they’re beautiful! You didn’t have to do that!” You smiled up at him and went in for a side hug. Surprisingly, it wasn’t even awkward. Jungkook just gave off such a charming, confident vibe.

“I wanted to. I saw them and automatically thought of you.” You blushed down into the bouquet you were now holding.

“You’re too sweet,” you flashed the biggest grin. ‘Okay, so maybe he’s better than I thought.’ “Where do you want to go?”

“How do you feel about bibimbap?”

“I love it!” You’d only had it once, but you assumed you’d still love it. “But just so you know, I really don’t have that much time today. I need to try to be back in an hour or so.”

“I completely understand. I’m just happy you could pencil some time in for me,” his hand grazed the side of yours, sending a shock up your arm. “I was gonna say that my favorite bibimbap place is right around the corner and I’d love to take you there.”

“Sounds good to me! Let’s go!”

He had a smile painted across his face looking down at you with the pretty flowers in your hand. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. “Follow me. And hold on to me if you need to. Wouldn’t want you getting lost in this crowd,” he chuckled, giving you a wink.

Your heart fluttered. Why was it fluttering?

Jungkook turned to lead you around the street. It was pretty packed, but what else would you expect in the middle of Seoul at lunch time. You could tell that JK was looking down slightly, making sure he didn’t get recognized. You ended up actually reaching to hold onto the back of his coat to make sure you didn’t get separated. You weren’t about to fight your way through the crowd to get a view of every Korean man currently wearing a black coat, hat, and mask. It would take all day.

You both made your way down the busy street, finally able to squeeze next to each other and talk about how your day was going so far. You know, all the basic boring stuff that you had to get out of the way. You soon reached a set of narrow, tall stairs almost hidden away.

“This way,” Jungkook said, taking the first step up. You looked down to see how tall the stairs were and mannnn you thought you were going to have to catapult yourself up.

Jungkook saw the hesitancy in your eyes and quickly leaned the upper half of his body down, holding one hand out for you to grab onto. You graciously took it, as he slowly ascended, making sure you followed him every step of the way. Once you reached the top, you finally jumped up onto the platform of the restaurant, now pressed right up to JK. He still had your hand in his.

“Nice job for a first timer,” he joked, squeezing your hand before he gently put it down and let it go. It was one of the most tender things you’d ever felt. He was handling you with such care.

You followed him as he walked a few steps to the door. He opened it for you and let you step inside first. Your eyes took a moment to focus as you acclimated to the new atmosphere. ‘It’s dark…’ you thought to yourself, eyes now tuning in. ‘And damn, it’s NICE.’ You looked around the the swanky bar to the left, wall topped off with liquors you kne you’d never afford in your lifetime- even on a doctor’s salary. Black tablecloths covered each table, with booths being tucked away into walls. Candles were the main source of the lighting and made for a seductive atmosphere.

“Hello, I had a reservation for Jeon Jungkook,” JK told the host at the stand on the right. She was beautiful, in formal all black attire and long, black hair.

“Of course. Right this way,” she stepped out from behind her podium and led you both to a booth at the far back of the restaurant. It was tucked out of the way, no other tables reaching beyond it. No one would have a reason to walk this way unless delivering food to the table directly.

“Will this do?” she looked to Jungkook.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he smiled as she left.

“Here, let me help you,” he reached out to you, gently taking your flowers and setting them on the far side of one of the booth’s benches. He walked behind you to grab onto one arm of your coat, allowing you to slip out easily. He held onto the coat and placed it next to the flowers.

“Watch out, it’s a step up,” he said, reaching for your hand. What is up with all these steps?

You looked into his eyes, silently thanking him for the thoughtfulness, while taking his hand. He led you over the two steps to the table and held tightly as you took the step up and over. Once you were settled in, he looked satisfied and took his place on the opposite side.

The rest of the meal was a whirlwind. You learned so many things about him. First, that he is an absolute devourer of bibimbap. Second, that he was actually really funny and down to earth… Charming too, but were you really going to admit that? Third, he actually had a super cute, bunny-like smile that popped up every time he caught you staring at him for too long.

You actually got along very well. ‘What a pleasant surprise,’ you thought. Conversation was just so easy with him. Maybe you didn’t get into the deep stuff with him like you did with Chan, but so what? This was only lunch. What did you expect him to do, give you his entire life story? He oozed confidence and playfulness, something you were envious of. Maybe, after more time with him, you thought you could learn to have those qualities as well.

You were both laughing over a story of how you accidentally cursed at someone in Korean on your second day here when all of a sudden, your phone lit up. 1:02 PM. Dang, it went by that fast?

“I think I’m running out of time,” you looked down with puppy dog eyes, motioning him to look at your phone.

“Awww, it’s alright. We better get you back on time though. The last thing I need is someone from JYP on my ass,” he laughed.

A small laugh left your mouth too as you both moved to exit the booth. He helped you put your coat back on and placed the flowers back into your hands. He grabbed 3 bills of 50,000 won out of his wallet, and placed it on top of the bill on the table. ‘Damn, this man’s a good tipper.’

“Here,” you scrambled to grab your own wallet out of your coat pocket. “At least let me pay half,” you started to take some money out.

“No, no y/n,” he grasped onto your forearm for a short moment. “Put your money up. Please. It’s on me.”

“Are you sure? I promise I don’t mind one bit to pay. Let me just-“ you stopped talking as you watched his eyebrows lift and his eyes get wide, small grin on his face as if saying “watch yourself now.” He was still holding tightly to your arm, not letting you lift it.

“Okay, okay,” you smiled, putting your wallet away. “But I owe you!”

He smiled at that. “Come on, let’s get you back.”

——————————————————

Chan’s POV:

He had been a nervous wreck thinking about seeing you. Thinking about what he should say in order for you to be interested in him. He knew through your messages to him that you’d be there closer to 1:15, so he made sure he’d get back in time.

He tried to calm his nerves by going out to grab an iced tea really quickly at a local shop. He couldn’t stomach any food- not right now. Once he finally got the chilly beverage in his hands, he walked his way back out into the cold. Only a couple minute walk from the company building.

‘Alright Chris, pull yourself together. Whatever you say, she’s gonna understand. She’s great, so of course she’s gonna understand. She may even be just as nervous as you, you never know.’ He let his mind wonder. He started to picture a scenario. One of you seated next to him in his studio. He had finally worked up the courage to ask you on a date- a proper date. Maybe he jumbled up the words a little bit, but you found it endearing. You nodded your head excitedly, saying how you’d love to go on a date with him. He would take you somewhere nice, somewhere you would get dressed up for him. You’d drink red wine and talk about anything and everything- what you loved and what your passions were. Your eyes would have a certain sparkle that only happened when you looked at him. By the end of the date, you’d be asking when you could see him again. He’d hold your hand, your warm little hand, as you left to say your goodbyes.

As wonderful as the daydream was, Chan suddenly snapped out of it. He froze, standing rigid, then almost tumbling back. There’s no way.

There you stood in front of him. With all the beauty that you were. But you were with someone. A man. Chan squinted to see what he could make out. Jungkook? Fuck, that was definitely Jungkook.

You were smiling up at him and clung onto him for a long hug. He gave in, leaning his head down to plant a small kiss on the top of your forehead. You giggled, waved goodbye, then ran inside the company building.

With that, Chan felt his heart shatter for the very first time.

Through the building’s glass walls, he watched as you made your way a little further, then stopped to bring your phone out. 10 seconds later, he felt a buzz from his phone

From: y/n’s instagram

Hey, I’m here :) Should I head on up to you?

He wanted to cry.

------------------------------------------------

✨ Continue to ➡️ Chapter 4

✨if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging <3

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 7

Chapter 7 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Bobby observes the new probie, curious about this kid as he starts acting out and tossing his career down the drain with stunts like stealing a fire engine or refusing the teen mom access to the ambulance. Meanwhile, Buck and Eddie are both trying to find the new balance of how much they should let go and how much they can still hold on.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slowburn)

Warnings: insecurity, child endangerment (baby in the pipe call)

~~~

Chapter 7: The Curious Case of the New Recruit

When Bobby offers Evan Buckley a job, he doesn’t think the other will take it. He’s done his training in Texas, broke records there, but not everyone wants to relocate halfway across the country when there are perfectly good jobs nearby. However, Bobby offers anyway, because they can use someone like him on the team. Someone who is younger than the core team they have, still reckless, someone to push them out of their habits and comfort zones.

However, now Buck is here and he’s not entirely what Bobby expected. Sure, he’s hardworking and competent as his paperwork says, also quite impulsive and more than willing to do the crazy rescues, but he has a maturity Bobby didn’t expect and can’t place.

Bobby has observed Buck to be a strange contradiction in a way.

It starts in the first week, Buck has watched Bobby cook a few family meals, when he approaches him while he’s cooking. “Can I help? I’m not an amazing cook, but I know some things and I’d like to get better.”

“You can cook?” Chimney asks skeptically where he is hanging around at the kitchen island, probably hoping to snatch up some snacks as Bobby cooks.

“Yeah, only one in the house that can,” Buck grins as he gives a fond head shake, whoever his roommates are, he doesn’t seem to mind that they don’t contribute to the chore.

Bobby figures that building a good report in the kitchen will be helpful to getting Buck to listen out there, so he happily instates him as sous chef, pleased when it seems he wasn’t lying and is capable of basics such as cutting without it becoming a medical emergency and watching the pans.

The cooking indeed seems to help in Buck listening to him out on the field. It’s a good way to integrate him into the team too, because despite his sociable nature, Buck doesn’t make an extended effort to become a part of the team outside of their job.

Bobby hasn’t realized this, since he tries not to engage with the team outside of the firehouse either, until he hears Chimney say: “He’s doing it again. He always says no or starts tapping on his phone before saying yes. It’s like we’re his second choice and he doesn’t want to come to team bonding drinks.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Chim,” Hen replies with an eye roll.

“Buck doesn’t go out drinking with you two?” he finds himself asking, worried for a moment that Buck might also be in recovery, but too awkward to say, and if he should reach out.

“He does, just says no often enough too and he always has to check before he says yes,” Hen shrugs. “I figure he’s checking if they don’t have a party planned he’d rather go to.”

“Or he has to see if his hook up of the evening is worth it in comparison to us,” Chim grouches. “He probably has enough of them lined up that he can be picky about it, the lucky bastard. You see how they throw themselves at him on calls.”

“But he’s not worrying when you do go out?” Bobby prods.

Hen gives him an understanding look, then shakes her head: “Nah, he drinks a couple of beers, but enough water too. He’s always capable of driving home safely. He drinks pretty responsibly for someone who probably only just tumbled out of party culture and seemingly still lives in a frat house.”

Bobby is glad to hear that and lets it go for now, not wanting to open up himself without it being necessary. Still, he keeps an eye out for worrying behavior, but other than him being too eager to attempt risky rescues and feats of daring, the only thing that is slightly worrying is the amount of flirting he does while on the job.

It hasn’t bled into unprofessional yet, but Buck is teetering on the edge and Bobby is waiting on the moment he steps over and he’ll have to reprimand Buck about it. He wishes the kid would keep it in his pants until he’s off the clock, it’s not as if he has a lot to do then.

Of course, Bobby can’t know that Buck does have a lot to do off the clock.

With Eddie being on the mend and Abuela and Pepa helping, parenting has become easier, but Buck is still part of pick up duty, groceries, chores and family time. He usually doesn’t have to worry too much about it when the others go out drinking because Hen is also on a family schedule, but he likes to make sure Eddie is okay for the night alone with Chris on the days he does want to go out with his team, which isn’t always, since he still loves getting to spend his Diaz boys.

However, Buck has been weaning himself off living that domestic life with Eddie. It’s also the reason he hasn’t mentioned either him or Chris at work, because even if they’re married, he knows it isn’t actually like that. It’s not permanent and being in LA has only solidified that for him.

Eddie is working on regaining his strength, soon he’ll be good enough to apply to the fire academy too, having decided it’s a good sounding job from Buck’s stories and something he actually has transferrable skills for. And he’ll do great. He’ll be a firefighter in no time and Buck knows that Eddie can support Chris from the income, since he himself is doing that right now.

It’s only a matter of time before Buck isn’t necessary as a co-parent anymore. Out here, Eddie can actually meet people he’d want to marry for real and then he’ll divorce Buck and he’ll be just the best friend who babysits sometimes.

Hence the flirting.

Which he does on the job.

It’s stupid to try and preemptively fill the void with flirting, but getting that attention makes him feel better, makes him feel like he could have a life after Eddie – even though he’ll never be able to move on from Eddie – so he basks in it.

But he keeps it on the job, doesn’t take it home. Doesn’t want to miss the time he still has with Eddie and Chris, doesn’t want Eddie to see, just in case, so Buck will always be available to him, should he suddenly fall madly in love with him and want to declare that. Like he said, stupid.

And he keeps checking if Eddie is okay when he is asked to go out with his team, hoping that Eddie will say that he needs him home. Wants him home…

What Buck doesn’t know, is that Eddie has been letting him go, saying yes to him staying out as much as he can. Because he feels guilty, so guilty about keeping Buck there. He can picture him going out, flourishing as a young person in a big city, doing his own thing and not being responsible for a child for a bit.

Eddie wants to hold on, likes the life they have together, but he can’t, because Buck deserves to be a young adult for a bit, to stick around until Eddie can do it on his own and then be free of the harsh truth of being a teen parent, even out of teenagehood.

He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard to let Buck go. Buck was just an easy solution after Shannon left, but he’s made himself at home with Eddie. He has a hard time being around people in general, but being around Buck is so easy. Raising Chris with him is so easy. He wants to keep that, keep Buck, but he knows he can’t keep Buck there either. Not when he deserves so much better than Eddie can give him.

So, he enjoys all the time they do have together, the lazy nights on the couch, the days in the park with Chris, the grocery runs and the chaotic mornings. And when those are over, he lets him go. He lets him go out with the friends he has from work, the work he enjoys doing, even if he started out, because he needed to support Eddie and Chris. He’s not thinking about it. He’s not.

Just like Buck isn’t thinking about how easily Eddie lets him go, more and more as time passes and it goes better and better with him. He’s not thinking about how time is running out. He’s not.

Buck is just maybe also spiraling a little and for him that looks like more and more flirting and a new dating app on his phone. He’s never had the healthiest relationship with sex. And now he’s doing something even more stupid. Stealing a firetruck to have sex on the job kind of stupid.

He knows it’s stupid as he does it and he knows it’s stupid when he comes back, but he’s always been a fake it to you make it kind of guy and these people assume he’s some frat dude, might as well live up to expectations. Buck has always tried to live up everyone’s expectations. Always fucked up too. Bitterly thinks that this is not that out of character for him, being Chris’s papi fits less with his track record than this.

Bobby just thinks he has figured Buck out, when he goes and does this. He knows Buck as someone who cares about his job, maybe a bit more about the thrills than the people they save, but he takes it seriously, even if he can be a little unprofessional when flirted with. To have Buck, who cares so much disregard the job like this is weird and it sets Bobby’s teeth on edge.

And looking at Buck now, shrugging: “Come on, Bobby. See the fire, put out the fire. The rest is blah-blah.” Bobby doesn’t recognize the kid he’s come to know.

He knows that Chimney is correct that he goes easy on Buck, but he can’t help it. Sure, Buck can be a cocky little shit, but not like this. It’s out of character and Bobby feels like he should extend him some grace. Plus, there is just something about Buck that makes Bobby want to help him, especially when this feels more like a cry for help than anything else.

Bobby can’t just reach out and offer help, he is too unworthy to form the connections necessary to do so, but he can go easy on him, can continue to not give up on him. So that’s what he does.

The call they’re on, makes him question if he made the right call. It’s like Buck is a different person as they learn what happened and his compassion for the mom goes flying out the window. Bobby knows calls with kids can be rough and Buck hasn’t been on many yet. Sees in his face that he does not like it one bit that a baby is in harm’s way.

But they’ve been on calls where Buck has been compassionate to people who got others hurt, however, that is gone when he yells: “Is that the mother? No, screw her. Look what she did.”

“She’s a child,” Athena screams back.

“Doesn’t matter, you don’t abandon your kid. You fight for them and you stay. You don’t just leave them, no matter how old you are when you have them,” Buck snarls back, before Bobby can interrupt and force Buck to take the mom too, because he is practically refusing.

In the ambulance he watches Buck with the baby, how much he cares about the little one and how wary he is about letting the mom near the baby. But also how he lets her hold the baby’s hand when she reaches out. It’s as if he wants to protect the baby, but also wants the mother to want the infant.

It strikes Bobby that it may very well be that Buck is taking this call very personally. The words he yelled at Athena stick with him and he wonders if Buck is the kid of a teen mom himself, if he was abandoned and that’s why he is taking this so hard.

Then Bobby realizes he has never heard Buck talk about his parents, or his home life at all. For how open he is about almost everything, he is actually quite the closed book. A mystery. It only adds to his worry about what might be going on with Buck. Because even if that would his explain his behavior on this call, it doesn’t explain the behavior before that.

Again he should be reprimanding Buck, but he can’t bring himself to, he feels too much compassion for the kid. Athena, however, has no such qualms, getting out of her cruiser and storming across the parking lot to confront Buck. “Hey! You do not get to decide who lives and dies.”

“Really?” Buck shoots back, looking cocky, something that is both in character and out of place here. It feels like a mask. “Cause I was under the impression that kind of was my job.”

“That mother was no less of a child than her baby. You’re gonna get someone killed,” Athena tells him.

“She was going to get that baby killed. She had no right to just leave a baby, she could have died in that pipe. You get a kid, you step up,” Buck replies, cockiness falling to reveal anger.

It looks wrong on his face, mentally Bobby adds another point for Buck coming from a teen mom home himself, as he looks at the stranger reflected on the familiar face of their probie.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Athena says, righteous anger in the face of Buck’s attitude.

“Sometimes it is and I know what call I’ll make if it comes to that,” Buck replies, not getting out of her face, but defiantly jutting out his chin.

“And you’ll screw up then, like you nearly screwed up today,” Athena informs him bluntly. “And next time you do that, it’ll be your last.” With that said, she stalks off, clearly done with them, Bobby can’t blame her.

He shares a look with Hen, who is as perturbed by the situation as he is. Buck doesn’t seem to think anything is wrong with how he reacted, despite endangering a young girls life. It’s clear that he thinks he’s right when he says: “What?” when he sees them looking.

There are a hundred things Bobby wants to say, but none of them come out. Buck still looks like that stranger instead of their Buck and Bobby wants to believe that this is a one off that he just needs help and a kind hand. So he just says: “Get in the truck,” ignoring Hen’s judgmental eyebrows about it.

Two days later he truly regrets giving Buck a soft hand. He’d hoped that it would work better with him, seeing how well he does with gentle encouragements in the kitchen, but that clearly hasn’t worked. The teen mom should have been his strike two and stealing the firetruck again to have sex, that is strike three. Buck should be out. Buck is out.

Bobby can’t keep being kind, he has to make the hard choice, has to be fair. He should have said more when Buck flirted with the snake lady, he should have never let it get this far in the first place. He can’t keep covering for Buck’s behavior.

“You’re fired,” he tells him, watching how Buck’s face drops.

“What?” he chokes, voice high pitched. “Wait, that’s not fair. You said I got three strikes.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bobby has decided on his course of action and he is going to stick with it, no more exceptions for Buck even if he looks like a kicked puppy. “You’ve made this choice yourself, and you rubbed it in my face. The same exact infraction two days after I wrote you up. You’re out of line and you’re not taking this job seriously. So you’re out.”

Bobby starts to walk away and Buck feels like he can’t breathe, he’s felt like that since Bobby first told him he was fired, since the baby in the pipe.

He has been spiraling since before that of course, but that call got to him. A kid being abandoned by their mom… He could so easily see Chris in the place of that baby, unwanted by mom. Chris has already been through so much and Buck’s chest feels tight, because at some point he’s going to have to abandon Chris too. He doesn’t want to, but Eddie will divorce him and he’ll go from papi to uncle Buck if he’s lucky and that terrifies him.

So, he spiraled more, internalized it all until he needed something to try and dull the ache. He tried hanging out with his Diaz boys, but that just made him more aware of the count down, the finite time he has left. Which left this as his other coping mechanism.

He is aware that he’s been self destructing, but his self destruction was never – never – supposed to touch Chris and Eddie. Never. And now it has. Buck has fucked it up, screwed up again and now he is going to fuck up Chris’s life early, even though he never meant to do so all.

Before now, he has not felt fear like this and he feels like crying as he pleads: “Wait, Bobby! Bobby, I- I need this job. Please, don’t do this to me. I have people that rely on me and my income, I- I really need this job. At least until the end of my probie year.”

Bobby looks back and Buck looks absolutely devastated. He is again reminded of a kicked puppy and he wants to help Buck, he does. However, he needs to keep his resolve. He can’t keep giving Buck a free pass. Besides, what or who could he possibly be funding?

So, he shakes his head firmly: “No, I don’t care that you can’t fund your little frat house parties anymore, you can find another job. You can disrespect yourself like this, but but you are done disrespecting our firehouse and this fire department.”

“That’s not what I’m funding,” Buck frowns, he looks hurt, though resigned, Bobby vaguely wonders what that is about. “I got a-”

“No,” he cuts him off, “I don’t wanna hear it. I said you’re done.”

And with that he walks away. He drives back in the car he came in, leaving Buck to take down the ladder and drive the engine back to the firehouse. As Buck is doing that, he retreats into his office, not wanting to give the young man a chance to talk him out of it. This is his decision, he should stay firm on it. Though he can’t find it within himself to start on the firing paperwork. Not yet.

He refrains from going out there to watch Buck get changed and pack his stuff, not wanting the other to get a chance to change his mind. Still, he is almost grateful for the call that comes in, giving him a chance to interrupt Hen and Buck talking, wanting to check up on him in some way.

Buck looks defeated. It looks wrong on him. Bobby wants to fix that and that scares him, he has kept to himself for years now. He doesn’t like that he feels responsible for Buck, wants him to do well. Bobby isn’t meant to be alive, to be connected. And he is becoming connected to Buck, feels paternal over him. Cares for him in a way he doesn’t about the other firefighters under his command.

So, he tells himself he made the right call in letting Buck go. He can’t help Buck, it’s not his job and Buck is endangering the people he is supposed to be saving. The ones that will make it right.

Still, he can’t help but ask Hen what their talk was about. Hen shrugs, looking thoughtful. “He really needs his job, says he has people to support.”

“Yeah, right,” Chimney snorts. “Supplying booze isn’t supporting people.”

“I don’t know, he looked serious,” Hen frowns. “He asked how long he’ll keep his insurance, then if he could tell me something.”

Bobby remembers Buck on that roof, saying people depended on him, he’d made the same assumption Chimney did, but now he worries if he was wrong. If there is something more, something to explain his behavior both recently and the maturity he could show that seemed out of place in the rest of his frat boy persona.

He is burning with curiosity about what Buck might have wanted to tell her. But he’ll likely never find out, Buck will be gone when they get back from this call. Life will resume as normal. It’s for the best that way.

Yet, when Hen tells him what she’s done, the second chance she has given Buck on Bobby’s behalf, he can’t help but be grateful.

And he is even more grateful when Athena calls, giving props to Buck for his work. If the woman who was yelling at him two days ago can have a change of heart about him, Bobby has a case to keep Buck there. Then he can justify it to himself.

However, he needs to know Buck has grown from the experience, that he won’t shoot in that cocky, the Devil may care attitude to cover himself. So he doesn’t say a thing and just stands there, watching Buck climb out of the engine.

“I know what this looks like,” Buck tells him. Good, he is aware that what he did is wrong and willing to explain his behavior. Two pluses for Buck.

“Looks like you took the engine out in your street clothes.”

“I didn’t exactly have time to change,” Buck sulks, looking as if he expects to be reprimanded without getting a chance to explain himself. Again.

Bobby feels a stab of guilt and he tries to make up for it by saying: “Sargent Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are. Told her she was half right.”

“You’re giving me another chance?” Buck asks and he looks so hopeful, so relieved that Bobby can’t help but feel he made the right call. Though the relief niggles something in his brain.

“You’ve used up all your chances,” he still says, watching Buck stiffen, before he adds: “But so have I. Because I have somehow failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.”

It makes the most sense to Bobby. Buck is young, this is his first big job, he might not be as aware of what it takes to keep a job and what a responsibility it is. He is sociable and nice enough, but saving people likely isn’t as much of a priority as the thrilling stunts they do to rescue people. He likely only just got comfortable enough here to pull something like this and the fact that it coincided with that baby call is nothing more than a coincidence. But he’s learned from it now.

“You’re wrong,” Buck surprises him. “I absolutely do know what a privilege it is to serve here and I am sorry for not showing that. I love my job and I don’t want to jeopardize it. Ever. I take it very seriously and I will continue to do so.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bobby says, but he knows it’s fond, so he doesn’t look back. “Your shift is not over yet. Go get dressed.”

Then he walks away. Behind him, he hears Buck ask Hen: “Do you think he put in the paperwork yet and I need to be rehired, because that could mess with admin stuff, right?”

“Don’t ask me, only Cap knows that, but I don’t think he filed it yet if he managed to fill it all out,” Hen answers. “By the way, what did you want to tell me, before we got called away?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter anymore now, just wanted to make my case, so you could make it to Bobby, but guess I did that for myself,” Buck replies, cockiness back, but in the usual playful manner of his.

Hen clearly believes him, playfully threatening: “Shove off, probie. You’re still on thin ice.”

However, Bobby isn’t sure if that is the whole truth, the words from the roof and what Hen said in the engine are still ringing in his head, but he doesn’t have any evidence to back it up. Plus, he has no definitive reason to think so with what he has seen in the kid.

Still, it plays on his mind as the two disappear from his hearing range and it rears its head once more when Buck comes into his office a little later, looking a little shy, which is unusual for him. “I, uhm- I wanted to check if you officially fired me or just said it and never got around to it?” Quickly he assures: “Either way I am so happy to have my job back, I just wanted to know if it’ll impact anything, like, uhm- like my insurance?”

As he did to Hen, he is mentioning insurance again. “It won’t affect anything, I never got around to doing the paperwork and I’m not doing the extra work to make a point when you already learned your lesson,” Bobby tells him kindly. To satiate his own curiosity, he adds: “Is there a specific reason you’re asking?”

“Oh, uh, no, Cap,” Buck smiles and Bobby knows he’s lying.

“You can trust me with anything, you know that, right?” Bobby pushes.

Now the smile becomes real and Buck nods: “I know. It’s- it’s private, but it doesn’t effect me in the field. Just want to be on top of everything, you know. Be an adult.”

Bobby wants to push more, get a proper answer, but he has his own skeletons in the closet, he won’t go digging for those of someone else when it doesn’t impact their work. Buck might have a sickly grandma, who raised him or something, that is a dependent. Someone he doesn’t actively care for, but supports financially.

That night, Buck goes home, still shaking a little. Eddie is on the couch, still awake despite it being a god awful hour since his meds make him sleepy so his whole rhythm is thrown off. He smiles when he sees Buck, then frowns when he collapses on the couch next to him, burrowing his face in the couch cushions.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, sounding a little worried as he prods Buck.

He can never know how Buck almost screwed up. How he almost put them in financial trouble and fucked up their insurance; the exact same thing that forced Eddie to sign up for the army. He can’t let Eddie find out that he’s an irresponsible idiot. Can’t give Eddie a reason to kick him to the curb early.

So, he murmurs: “Long day. Rough,” hoping the muffling of the couch pillow will hide the way he lies.

Eddie’s hand appears on his leg, startling him slightly, before he relaxes into the comforting squeeze. The action fills Buck with both fondness and guilt. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah,” Buck says, because Eddie will know if he comes up with something. He does free his face from the cushion and rearranges himself on the couch so that he can watch the telenovella Eddie has on.

“Alright, but you can if you want to,” Eddie offers.

Buck’s heart feels just about ready to burst. “Thanks,” he smiles, selfishly allowing himself to bask in this feeling, ignoring how he nearly screwed it all up and how some day he is going to lose it. He is not going to risk anything like that again. He’ll deal differently.

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

Oh my god…

I can’t believe I’m saying this but…

I…I’m considering re-re-designing both RCRR(Roll Call Rescue Recruits) teams. Since I just went nutz with how I drew them in the Zine I took part in. I’m not sure if I should simplify the designs or just draw them with I drew them in the Zine.

Tbh I might do both since I have A LOT of free time now.

[simp-ly-writes]

Medals, Meetings, & Contracts

Can be read as a standalone: In my Shadow (pt.2)

Pairing: Commander Philip Graves x Shadow!Reader

Summary: You have became a deeply valued asset as Shadow Company, your time spent with the commander only grows alongside your unknown feelings towards him- yet when a mission arises, what does that mean for your future?

Warnings: mentions of jealousy and light teasing.

A/N: In all honesty, I forgot I started to write this a while back but I hope you enjoy this new part nonetheless! :)

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

In my Shadow Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

↳ Building a new routine in a different organization, timezone, and country entirely was easier and more enjoyable than you expected with your team by your side

↳ Yet your squad had grown as well, you were freshly in charge of five new members, now a nine person strong task force it definitely made the days go by quicker and easier, not everyone had to go on the mission at the same time, you could be working on a mission from various angles within various countries all at the same time

↳ Your management skills from back in Europe were coming into full effect as the officials at Shadow Company could not be happier with your performance in the months to follow since your arrival

↳ You felt nothing but pride swell in your chest as you placed the logo on your gear and headed out of your apartment each morning to converse with the other shadows, hearing their backgrounds, stories, accomplishments and failures alike- it was a productive atmosphere that had you pushing your team towards greatness

↳ And greatness you achieved, the team was a crowning achievement of the recruiting board as your mission success rate pummelled any past records- hostage rescues, check! world-saving documents- stolen, social attacks settled in the dirt with officials safe and sound , back at home

↳ Various commissioners always wrote letters in praise of your teams work- the additional badges on your formal uniforms only became fuller, each beaming proudly in the sunlight

↳ Soon enough you were reporting directly towards the commander himself, you were given weekly meetings with him (as his assistant told you through various passive-aggressive emails and voicemails that you debated bringing up in converastion)

↳ Your meetings were always enjoyable, he usually ordered coffee (or tea) with lunch as you both discussed recent and future missions with a fair deal of light arguing, sarcasm, and a few eye-rolling puns from your end, time would fly-by as you got to know each other more

↳ Soon enough, handshakes were small hugs before and after meetings alongside a hand on your shoulder as he led you out of his office became more apparent in actions as well as to your squad members with raised eyebrows and somewhat sealed-lips as they texted the home-team back in England of your adventures

↳ During one of these meetings, Graves would casually drop that you all would be going on a combined attack with the British SAS as he pulls your chair closer to his, showing you a map on his computer, barley paying attention to the information being displayed in your shock- you failed to hear the commander add he was joining to ensure the success of this mission

↳ A few days later you were picking at your squads uniforms once more as the elevator ascended towards the chairmans office, Graves stood in a suit (much to your distraction), his assistant chatting annoyingly in the corner as she flipped through various documents on her tablet- she kept the type clicking sound on as you bashed your forehead against your team member with a groan as he chuckled and rubbed your shoulder lightly before whispering for you to shut the hell up too

↳ The numbers above climbed as Graves drowned out the various meetings being called, all scheduled with the shareholders before he left with your team, his eyes narrowing slightly at your... unprofessionalism with your squad mate...

↳ ...The elevator dings and Graves is back to facing forwards as he fixes his tie and exits the elevator before trailing down the carpeted floors and up to the commissioners office where a surprise awaited you both

↳ In the room stood Laswell and Price off to the side, observing the world go by through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You stood in the doorframe, shock coursing through your veins- you were supposed to meet them in England not here. Your team mates shove you out of the way going up to introduce themselves as you see Graves walk in front you, pressing a hand in between your shoulders as he introduces you to the commissioner.

↳ Laswell and Price look at each other before looking back at you and your commander opening various folders against the commissioners desk. Your hands slightly float over one another as you both point out to various strategies and points of interest

↳ The meeting goes smoothly as Graves invites the British members back to headquarters for a much needed catch-up as your team cheers out from behind you and demands drinks as well, as you shake hands goodbye to the commissioner, apologizing for your teams rowdiness with a blush-covering your face as you hear the assistant hiss at Graves from behind, he was late to something now apparently as your notes form the desk

↳ Back at headquarters, you are interrogated by Laswell and Price to say the least as they demand to know how the Shadows are treating you- how Graves is treating you and if there is any possible way that you would come back to the SAS

↳ When Graves gets wind of this counter-offer, hells he is stalking up to the meeting room you all are settled into, pulling your chair closer to one he places himself in as he disregards the others in the room and tilting your chair so that your knees are in between his own as he ensures your loyalty to the company. The next moment a promotion contract is being waved in your face before he saunters back out of the room with a mock salute towards Laswell and the Captain with a wink directed towards yourself as the door slams closed and a whistles sounds down the hall

↳ Hiding behind yet another new contract, you blush heavily- very much embarrassed by your commanders apparent outburst, "I guess I'll take that as a no?" Price comments with a light chuckle in his voice as Laswell rolls her eyes and opens her palm, shaking it slightly in a silent demand to read the new contract given

↳ You hand her the document at the request she puts it into your mailbox in the commons building before making your way for nightly PT once more with your team. They all look towards you with knowing looks as you groan out into the night sky- when would you catch a break?

↳ The next morning you were rushing out of bed at the sound of your alarm, falling into the wall as you kicked your boots on and tightened your belt. The rest of your gear would have to wait as you chucked it all into a rucksack and dashed towards the honking truck in the parking lot- it was time for your biggest mission yet.

╰┈➤ A/N: hope you all enjoyed this, I know its a bit different to what I usually write... anyways, want a part 3 or even something else, let me know- I love hearing, or-well reading your ideas :)

In my Shadow Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

[lizzieisright]

Avengers!AU as I promised. It's rushed because the movie is fucking 2.5 hours long and I'm not rewriting the whole thing, because this is just for fun. I also didn't proofread it, sorry for mistakes/misspellings.

Cap!Abby x Black Widow!Reader if you squint really hard.

Also I gave the reader Natasha's last name (the proper one, not the weird one, sorry, it bothers me to this day).

So we start with Shield base getting attacked by Jinx (Loki) so she could take Tesseract and destroy the Earth because it's her sister's precious place. Sevika (Nick Fury) gets pissed off at the blue haired maniac of a girl and she loses Manny (Hawkeye) so she is furious.  

You (Black Widow) are somewhere in Russia, in the middle of interrogation, when Maria Hill calls to inform you that your buddy is now a baddie and you kick everyone's asses and immediately get on a new mission. You head off to India to persuade Caitlyn Kiramann (Hulk) to help Shield find Jinx and rescue Manny, promising it's only about her physics knowledge and not about the green giant woman she can turn into. 

At the same time Sevika makes it to Captain Anderson, to persuade Abby to help Shield. Abby, still not really adjusted, still so mad, agrees. (Now can you imagine that scene when Steve is beating the punching bag and you can see his back and ass and biceps? Imagine it with Abby). 

Now Maria Hill has the most insufferable person to recruit: Ellie Williams. The Iron Woman is not someone who'd want to work with Shield, she is not a team player and prone to anger, so Maria just wants to bash her head on the elevator door while she gets to her floor on the Williams tower. Thank God for Dina (Pepper) who can make Williams do anything, because Ellie takes the documents and starts working on it. (She is a little excited: she'd get to work with Caitlyn Kiramann! But she also sees Captain Anderson and rolls her eyes: she heard too much about her)

During the flight to the helicarrier Maria gives Abby her new uniform and Abby politely thanks her while inside she screams in agony: didn't Shield watch the war chronicles? Did they see that this atrocity with a fucking skirt was her performance costume? (I have personal vendetta against Cap's costume in this movie)  

The first person Abby meets on the helicarrier is you. 

"Agent Romanova. Captain Anderson." Maria introduces you to each other and you nod politely.

The deep winter in your eyes makes Abby feel understood. She doesn't know you, doesn't trust you, but she feels like you two have something in common. (It's a trauma and a sense of humour). Her cheerful naive side died in arctic ice, and what was left now found a familiar soul in you. 

"You really revived American patriotism." You chuckle and Abby chuckles too. "I didn't think miracles would still happen in our time, but here you are."

Abby wouldn't call it a miracle, so she stays silent. And then a tall woman stumbles into her, so Abby steadies her by her shoulders. Abby saw this face before: she watched the reports about Hulk. But this woman looks delicate and nervous, and the stark difference makes Abby stop for a second. 

"Doctor Kiramann." You say politely, but Abby hears a small laugh in your voice. It's indistinguishable, but Abby spent enough time around people who didn't laugh to know how it sounds.

"Agent Romanova." Dr Kiramann says with apprehension, like you're scaring her, and it definitely amuses you. "Captain Anderson, nice to meet you."

Abby smiles and shakes her dainty hand - not like the one that crushed buildings.

"The word says you're going to find the cube." 

"Yes. Is it the only thing?" Dr Kiramann asks nervously.

"The only thing I care about." Abby shrugs. It doesn't matter to her if Caitlyn can destroy all of them in a fit of rage - they need to anger her first, and Abby can't think what they will need to do for it. After all, she'll be in a lab. 

"Ladies, we need to move." You tell them and lead them inside while helicarrier gets in the air.

Caitlyn helps locate the cube and you and Abby go to Germany to stop Jinx. You thank God for years of training because when you see Abby in her old uniform it's so hard to not laugh. She looks uncomfortable and you pretend this is perfectly normal and mundane while you pilot the jet. 

"Shield didn't do their homework." You note offhandedly and Abby chuckles. 

"I hope this uniform is stronger than it looks. I usually didn't wear my costume to the battlefield." 

"I'm sure Hill made it bulletproof." Abby knows you're making fun of her and somehow this is the most pleasant conversation she had since she woke up. "Okay, she is there and she is doing some crazy shit." You point at Jinx as you get closer. "Good luck Cap." 

Abby salutes you with two fingers and jumps out of the quinjet while you get your cannons aimed at blue-haired disaster.

Seeing Abby fight Jinx is very satisfying, even if this tank of a woman is wearing a skirt. Actually - it's even better. Captain Anderson is in amazing form for 90 years old.

Hearing AC/DC in your headphones - not as good, you have to admit. 

"Agent Romanova, did you miss me?" You hear Williams' smirk and chuckle. The same annoying cocky clowness as always. 

Well, watching Iron Woman blast Jinx is also very satisfying. 

"Make your move, Smurfette." Ellie says and you snort. 

"Miss Williams." Abby politely nods while they watch Jinx surrender.

"Captain." Ellie decides Anderson is not as annoying as the stories about her. 

Jinx annoys the shit out of you, but she also worries you: she gave up too easily. Captain Anderson looks as suspicious as you are, and three of you have a private moment in the pit. 

"Something is not right."

"You mean that the Fairy with Turquoise Hair let you win? I mean, for a grandma you're pretty fit, but she could have knocked you out." Ellie looks Captain Anderson over and you know she is hitting on Abby. Abby, on the other hand, doesn't know it and just rolls her eyes. 

Then you hear the thunder and you get tense, while Jinx starts giggling. 

"What, you enjoy lightning so much?" Ellie smirks, but Abby is assessing the situation.

"Oh-ho-ho, you're in for a treat, girls." Jinx starts laughing and gets up just in time for the hatch to open and a pink haired woman to come in, grab Jinx by her collar and jump back out. 

"Yeah, no. I'm sitting this one out. " You know Vi, and you don't plan on fucking with her. But those two can try. 

"Williams, where are you going? We need a plan to attack." Abby feels rusty and she doesn't like improvisation, she likes to know who she is against. 

"I have a plan. Attack."

"Cocky motherfucker." You murmur and watch Abby grab a parachute. "Where are you going? They're gods."

"I don't believe in them, ma'am." Abby says and jumps out. 

For some reason your hand finds the cross on your neck. 

(I'm sorry I'm not rewriting the Thor and Loki scene) Vi chews Jinx out for lying and pretending to be dead and Jinx invites her to go fuck herself just before Ellie knocks Vi off. Jinx laughs and sits down, curious how this will play out. 

The three of them beef it out, but only when Vi hits Abby's shield with her hammer everything ends. Abby is tired and wants to fucking strangle Williams, but she resorts to making peace with a goddess. 

"We find the cube and you can take your sister back." 

The escort Jinx to the helicarrier and when she passes the lab where Caitlyn is working she winks at her and makes kissy lips, creeping Caitlyn out. 

Sevika is finally in a good mood as she tells Jinx what will happen to her if she tries to escape. Jinx nods like an A-student, pissing Sevika off. 

 "Ooh." Jinx laughs. "It burns you to come so close. To have the Tesseract, to have power, unlimited power. And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share, and then to be reminded what real power is."

"Well, you let me know if Real Power wants a magazine or something."

Jinx asks for cosmopolitan and a caramel macchiato.

"She is unhinged." Caitlyn says and moves away from the screen. 

"Have care how you speak. Jinx is beyond reason, but she is of Asgard, and she is my sister." Vi says and you look at her. Blissful idiot.

"She killed 80 people in two days." And took my fucking best friend, you think. 

"She is adopted."

"Why is she looking for Iridium?" Caitlyn asks Vi like this golden retriever of a goddess would know. Vi panics, but Ellie saves her. 

"It's a stabilising agent." Ellie looks at Vi in her muscled glory and you want to roll your eyes. "No hard feelings, warrior princess."

Why doesn't Vi hit Williams again is a mystery. 

Ellie and Caitlyn talk about physics and you want to ask for a raise, while Abby looks as confused as you feel. 

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Kiramann. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster." 

Can Ellie Williams meet a woman and not flirt with her? 

"Thanks." Caitlyn even blushes a little. 

Ellie doesn't trust Fury and she is one of the smartest people on Earth, so after she innocently banters with Caitlyn while they work, she bickers with Abby and then she brings up her suspicions.

"You think Sevika is hiding something?" Abby asks.

"She is the spy. Her secrets have secrets."

"You don't find it weird they didn't ask Ellie to work on Tesseract when Williams tower has been running on clean energy for over a year now?"

Abby thinks, but doesn't say anything. 

You are sent to interrogate Jinx, and she looks so happy to see you. 

"You should read this article on skin care, agent Romanova. Would be of use."

"If it's about hyaluronic acid I don't need it." You say and Jinx closes her magazine.

"Soooo. What made you visit me? Wanna braid each other's hair and talk about boys?" Jinx looks as you stumble for words. "Or about the boy."

"Once you win, what will happen to Alvarez?"

"How sweet." Jinx cooes. "Your world is going to be destroyed and you bargain for your little boyfriend. True love." Jinx wipes non-existent tears. "You know what, sweets? Your honeybun is my plaything now. So when I win, and when everything on this pathetic little planet is destroyed, I will make Alvarez skin you and he will be conscious the whole time, and when he is done with you, I will make him cut his hands off for killing his boo. How about this?" Jinx smiles.

You swallow, pale from the horror.

"You're a monster." You say, terrified.

"No-no-no, sweetheart." Jinx eyes are dramatically big. "You brought the monster." 

You chuckle. 

"Oh, so Dr Kiramann is your target. Thank you for your cooperation." You nod and leave, leaving Jinx pissed. 

After that everything goes to hell. Everyone gets pissed at each other, Caitlyn hates your fucking guts for lying, Abby and Ellie almost go out to fight each other when the explosion hits. 

You fall down with still pissed off Dr Kiramann and she is not happy to see you. Her other side is not happy too, judging by her heavy breathing. 

"We're okay. Caitlyn, you're okay." 

She growls at you, and you notice you're stuck under a metal bar. You're stuck under a heavy piece of metal with Caitlyn who is halfway into Hulk territory. 

"I swear I'll get you out of here, whatever it takes." You tell her, but her voice is not hers anymore. 

"Whatever it takes?!" She growls and you get your leg out just in time, because Hulk hates you and she is definitely going to kill you. 

You run with all you have, screaming into your earpiece. 

"Can someone help me out here before Dr Kiramann tears me to fucking shreds?"

"I could take her." You hear Vi answering.

"Great, hurry the fuck up!"

Vi manages to knock Hulk out and give you time to escape, so you hide and try to put yourself together. At the same time Ellie and Abby who hated each other's guts a second ago, work together to restart the engine and not fall into the fucking ocean.

Ellie looks at the engine, but can't figure out what's wrong.

"Joel, run diagnostics." Ellie says and looks at the print of the engine when her assistant shows it to her with all damage on display. It doesn't look good. "I'll get inside and restart it manually." Ellie tells Abby. 

"It will shred you." Abby tells her and rip her skirt off in annoyance, only leaving tights on. 

"That's why you need to reverse it so I could slip out."

"And how do I do that?" 

"Red lever on the wall." Ellie goes inside the engine and starts pushing the rotor arms.

Abby stays by red level. 

Sevika is super not happy: her ship is getting destroyed and right now it's fucking Alvarez who is definitely going to free Jinx. 

"Does anybody copy?"

You swallow the terror and answer. 

"I copy."

If Manny needs his butt kicked he will get it kicked. 

Vi runs to detainer just to get into typical Jinx fog. She stumbles around, trying to find Jinx, hearing her giggles everywhere, but she hears a click and the fog disappears. Vi is in the container, and Jinx and smirking at her across the room.

"You Asgardians are supposed to be invincible. Who do you think will win? You or the beast?" Jinx jumps on the control panel and presses the button. "Boop."

"JINX!" Vi growls as she falls down. 

"Bye-bye sister!" Jinx spits and runs away. 

Abby is under attack, and she fights for her fucking life while Ellie is already saying goodbye to hers as she is simultaneously screaming at cap to PULL THE FUCKING LEVER ANDERSON JUST FUCKING DO IT

"Working on it." Abby says as she kicks the last enemy into the air.

But then she is in the air and she barely holds to some kind of wire while Williams is still screaming at her. Her suit is getting so damaged Ellie wants to cry and Joel is being so annoying by telling her the exact percent of damage. 

"I know man, stop upsetting me." Ellie says when she hits the floor with her chest again. "Cap, come on!!!"

Abby wants to tell her to shut the fuck up as she climbs the wire, but she needs to be quick so she saves time to pull the lever. As she pulls it, there is another gunfire, but Ellie flies in and knocks the man out. 

Jinx pissed everyone off. Everyone who is still on a helicarrier wants to get her head. While Manny is recovering from mind control, restrained, Abby comes to you and you notice that the skirt is gone. 

"Do you think there are any pants I could use?" Captain Anderson asks sheepishly. You assess Abby's size and go to Manny's closet to take a pair of blue cargo pants. 

"Sorry, don't have anything with stripes." 

Abby rolls her eyes playfully and leaves to change. 

"(Y/n)?" You turn around and Manny's eyes are clear. 

"Do I need to punch you again?"

"What did I do?"

"Not important. It wasn't you."

"I still did it." Manny chuckles. 

"Do you want to join our revenge party?" You ask as you let Manny out. "Cap will come here in a minute to ask us to go and fight that bitch."

"Cap as in Captain Abigail Anderson, as in fucking Captain America?"

"You can fangirl later. Yes."

Right on cue Abby appears in her new pants, her ridiculous helmet under her arm.

"She is going to take Williams tower. Are you in?"

"Maybe if I put an arrow through her eye I'd be able to sleep at night." Manny says grimly and you nod to Abby.

"In a minute."

Ellie is so pissed. This blue-haired nature mistake dared to put her portal shit on her tower. On the tower she built for Dina, the best woman in her life, and Jinx wants to parade her alien army from her porch! 

"That device has a shield, don't shoot it, kid." Joel tells Ellie and she rolls her eyes but listens. 

She lands her suit and walks to the bar to find Jinx watching her TV. She is watching The Simpsons. 

"Hello Marge, I'm home." Ellie imitates Homer as she searches for her bracelets. Jinx looks up to her, annoyed at the comparison.

"Oh, iron girl. What, you want to beg me too?"

"Actually I came to threaten you."

"Really? With what? Terrible jokes? I already have an old man to do it, what do I have to fear?"

"The Avengers." It makes Ellie cringe. "It's our little team of heroes."

"Yeah, I've met them." Jinx snorts. 

"Well, we needed some team-building, and you provided it." Ellie put one of the bracelets on. "But let's see. We have your sister, a literal goddess; a living legend who actually lives up to the legend (to my surprise); the kindest woman with breath-taking anger management issues; and a couple of assassins whose body count goes into the hundreds. And you, you've managed to piss off every single one of them." Ellie puts the second bracelet on. 

"I have an army, dum-dum."

"We have Hulk."

Jinx huffs in disbelief and slowly makes her way to Ellie. 

"Well, iron girl, I think your team will be a little busy fighting you to stop me."

Jinx taps Ellie's chest and they both are confused as nothing happens.

"It never happened before."

"That's what he said." Ellie snorts, but then Jinx grabs her by her throat, her chipped nails digging into her skin. "Joel, any time now."

"I will destroy you." Jinx hisses and throws Ellie out of the window. 

"Joel for fuck's sake!" Ellie screams as she falls, but the suit catches her signals and Ellie manages to not die. Again. 

Ellie stabilises herself and looks up to see a bunch of aliens coming out of the portal. 

"Right. Army." 

Manny flies close enough for all you comms to connect and Ellie leads you to a new set of enemies. You shoot all of them before Jinx blasts the jet engine and Manny has to make an emergency landing. 

You exit the jet and the first thing you see is a giant flying slug. You look at Manny and both of your heads have the same thought, and the thought is what the fuck. 

Manny notices people trapped and you both cover for Abby so she could run and give orders to police. You and Manny free the civilians and go back to shooting the alien assholes. 

It's weird, but it also isn't: they are enemies who just look strange, and their weapons are not complicated. You steal one and figure out how to shoot in a second, and these things don't have the bullets to run out, so you roll with it. 

By the time Abby comes back, Vi comes to you too and fries the rest of the assholes. You sigh in relief and put the stick down, listening to what Abby has to say, but just as she opens her mouth you hear a bicycle horn. 

Caitlyn is half-naked, drives the bicycle with one hand while her other holds what looks like a towel or a sheet. 

"I apologise, I had to take public transport." Caitlyn says and everyone stares at her for just a second, mainly focusing on long long naked legs.

Is everyone on this team gay? 

Well no, Manny is still straight. 

"I'm in need of some clothes." Caitlyn blushes and everyone rushes to find something until Ellie sends one of her small bots to Caitlyn. 

"It will stretch, big girl." You hear over the comms.

Caitlyn gets covered by some kind of material and she smiles at you, apologetic. 

"I'm so sorry."

"We could use some of that right now, actually." You tell her and Caitlyn nods, while she puts her long hair into a bun. 

“Dr Kiramann, it’s time to get really angry.” Captain Anderson says, still so delicately polite. Captain America is a sweetheart, and you feel your dead heart flutter.

"I have just enough repressed anger." Caitlyn turns towards the giant slug that Ellie leads to her. Caitlyn’s skin turns green as she grows bigger and bigger, and she becomes 8ft tall, her noodle arms grow muscles that put to shame Abby and Vi combined. It’s not Caitlyn anymore, it’s Hulk, and she is terrifying.

Hulk swings her fist and smashes the slug in the nose, making it flip on itself. You hear Vi gasp just before Abby jumps next to you and puts the shield over your head as pieces of meat fly everywhere. She holds you with her other arm, protecting you.

"Thanks Cap." 

"Ma'am." Abby nods.

By that time Ellie joins you, and all six of you are finally in one place.

"Call in, Captain." Ellie says.

Watching captain Anderson work is magical. Her fighting skills are impeccable, sure, but her immediate assessment of the situation and planning is just… it's nice to have someone so talented to be your leader. You don't argue, you just listen and do what Abby tells you to do. Ellie takes Manny and flies away, Vi flies away as well to fry the bastards as Abby put it, Hulk is just straight up having fun beating aliens up, and it leaves you with Abby.

Fighting alongside Abby is effortless. She is strong and big while you're agile and fast and you work as a team, looking out for each other and the best ways to attack. And while you're a killer, you aim to eliminate the threat, Abby is a protector to the bone and you catch her shielding you a few times. It's strange, but sweet - you’re not used to teamwork, to someone watching your back except Manny. The fighting is exhausting, it’s not your usual gig - you’ll have to hit the gym and not be an embarrassment like this - and you don’t see the end to it.

"You know we can't keep this up. We need to close that thing." You shout as you put more bullets into aliens.

"It has a shield on it." Ellie reiterates in your comms.

"Well maybe it's not about guns, Williams." You sigh. “I need a ride.” You look up at flying monsters. “And I just found it. I could use a boost though.”

Abby looks at you as you gain distance so you could run up, and gets into the position, angling her shield for you.

"You sure about it?"

"It would be fun." You shrug and run at Abby, and she boosts you into the air the moment your boot touches her shield. You catch on one of the aliens and fly to the tower.

Hulk is fighting alongside Vi and she is not happy about their previous quarrel, but Vi is very honourable and takes it in her own hands to make up with the beast. 

"It's my honour to be in battle with you, fair Hulk." Vi says and Hulk grins at her.

"Hulk likes." The green woman roars and they destroy a new slug together. 

"Williams, they sent the nuke." Sevika says and Ellie stops for a second, her little bombs still flying from her shoulders. 

"Are you fucking kidding me." 

At the same time you’ve found a way to stop Tesseract and you hold Jinx's sceptre, penetrating the shield around the cube.

“I’ll close it.” You shout into the comms, not really expecting anyone to protest, but Ellie stops you.

“Not until I get rid of the nuke.”   

Ellie catches the nuke and flies into the portal.

“Dina will kill you.” Joel tells her as he makes a call, but she is not answering.

“Not if I kill myself first.”

The last thing Ellie sees is the alien ship blowing up.

You close the portal when Ellie flies out of it, and all of you are relieved - she made it. Until Vi notices she is not stopping, and she swings her hammer to fly and catch her, but Hulk is faster - she climbs the building, makes a powerful jump and catches Ellie. 

It takes a very loud roar to wake her up.

“Did anyone kiss me?” You hear over the comms and roll her eyes. Everything is back to normal.

Manhattan is ruined, Williams’ tower is left with an a on it, and you all sit at the small cafe eating shawarma. You’re not a stranger to it, but the rest of the team are not as pleased as you are. Caitlyn is wrapped in Vi’s cape because even Ellie’s materials can’t handle Hulk yet, Ellie didn’t get out of her suit for this, Vi has a wound on her side, Manny looks half-dead from exhaustion, you lost your guns and Abby’s face is so dirty you want to clean her up like a toddler.

“Let’s never do this again.”

“Save the world or eat shawarma?”

"Both."

[lady-pug]

if we could wake up

Chapter I of Wouldn't It Be Nice

Summary: You sustain a head injury while on a mission but Whiskey isn’t fast enough to administer the alpha gel, so your memories of your time at Statesman don’t come back. Instead, you only remember up until the day before you were recruited and your memory ends up being reset every night. Jack makes it his mission to make you fall in love with him everyday (50 First Dates AU)

Pairing: Jack Daniels | Agent Whiskey x Reader

Word count: 1,1k

Warnings: major head injury (bullet to the head, but it's reversed using Statesman technology), memory loss

Notes: Hello dearest readers, it is I. I bring thee something that has been sitting among my WIPs for over two (I kid you not) whole years. I’ve had chapters one and two of this story completely ready stored in my files alongside all my other WIPs and simply never remembered to publish it FOR OVER TWO YEARS! Shame on me, wtf. Which makes me quite sad because it was one of my favorites to work on when I first came up with this idea. But anyways here it is.

I distinctly remember having come up with the idea for this after watching ‘50 First Dates’ four times in the same week (if it wasn’t clear by now this is my all time favorite rom-com) and thinking it fit right up with this cowboy right here.

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this story, and if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Bullets were flying, coming from everywhere. Whiskey could barely look over the cover he was hiding behind before someone was shooting at him.

“Ginger!” he screamed into the earpiece “Cider’s down!”

“What happened?” he heard the static voice of Agent Ginger Ale, or as her friends liked to call her, Elizabeth or Liz, over the comms.

“Dunno. Some goons are shooting at us. She just went down.” he ducked again after failing to locate his partner “Can’t even find her. Probably shot at.”

“Get to her immediately. If she got hit in the head you need to administer the alpha gel as soon as possible!”

“I’m trying here, Ging! Ain’t as easy with twenty guys aiming at your head.”

“Use one of those stunning bombs I made you.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to use those prototypes yet.”

“That’s all you got now!” he could tell Ginger was becoming agitated “Just do it, Jack!”

He did just that. Picking up one of the stunning bombs in his pocket he threw it as hard as he could towards the barricade. A loud, piercing sound erupted almost immediately, hurting his ears even from where he was. Poor goons, he thought. With his ears still ringing, he took off using his whip and lasso to take out the men one by one.

Once the place was clear and no other enemies could be detected, he ran towards the place he last saw you. Where you had gone down. He came to a halt, however, his heart dropping to his stomach when his eyes landed on your slumped form, a bullet hole on your temple and blood covering the ground.

“Shit, Ging! They blew her brains out.”

“Administer the gel, quick! It’s been way too long already.”

He fumbled with the equipment, almost dropping the roll of gel, before he quickly placed  it over your face, making sure to cover the wound.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you. Ging is going to fix your pretty little head in no time, yeah?”

The gel inflated and seemed to be doing its job. 

“Ginger, the gel’s been administered. What now?”

“I’m sending a rescue team your way. Try keeping her head slightly elevated.” she said “And Jack? She’s going to be okay.”

Jack nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He moved around and propped his back against a tree, his legs extended in front of him. As carefully as he could, he dragged your body, laying your head on his lap, running his fingers through your hair.

“You are going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise.”

The following hours were amongst the longest of his life. Jack would even go as far as to say it was almost as long as the hours he went without any news from his wife the day she had died. As soon as the plane landed on the tarmac, a gurney was ready to take you, rolling you to Ginger’s lab.

She wouldn’t allow him to go inside. The machine you were currently hooked onto had nanoparticles working on your brain to regenerate your neurons, astrocytes and neuroglia, or something sciency he couldn’t quite understand. He was in absolute agony not knowing how you were.  

Finally, after what seemed like weeks, Ginger finally walked out of the lab. He scrambled to his feet from where he was sitting slumped against the wall in front of the lab’s doors.

“How is she?” he blurted out.

“Stable. But the damage to her brain was extensive. And the alpha gel wasn’t administered within the correct window of time.”

“Shit, Liz- I- If I had gotten to her quicker…”

“Hey, hey Jack” she laid a hand on his shoulder “It’s not your fault. There were 23 men shooting at the both of you. Our entire elite squad couldn’t take them all out that quick. You did all you could.”

He sighed, only half believing her.

“What does that mean to her?”

It was Ginger’s turn to sigh.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll only be able to assess the real extent of the damage once she wakes up.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Why don’t you take a shower, maybe try taking a nap? I’ll wake you up if anything changes.”

He nodded, actually wanting desperately to clean up now that Ginger mentioned it, but already knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink until he knew you were safe. 

Jack walked slowly back towards his quarters, almost dragging his feet into the shower. The water seemed to sooth his aches, but not his worries. He couldn’t get the image of your form, suddenly dropping lifeless, out of his head. Everytime he closed his eyes that scene replayed in the back of his eyelids like some sick, twisted film.

He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t lose another person he- shit, did he love you? You have been partners for years now, always had each other's backs. You were one of the few people he truly trusted, someone he felt comfortable enough to open up and be vulnerable. To be himself. Recently, he’s started feeling something more than just the friendship you’ve nourished for the past years. He felt the urge to protect you, even though he knew for a fact you could look after yourself. He wanted to kiss you goodnight and wake up next to you the following morning. So did he love you? 

Yeah. Yeah, he did. He knew that now. And he couldn’t lose you.

Laying on his bed, his hair was still wet from the shower when Ginger pinged him. He was out of bed and halfway across the base in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t remember running that fast in years. Bursting through the door of the lab, he found you sitting on one of the pristine white beds, Ginger in front of you holding a clipboard.

“Sweetheart…”

Both you and Ginger looked at him with wide eyes. Ginger walked around your bed in his direction.

“Whiskey, wait-” but he didn’t listen.

“Sweetheart, thank all things sacred, you’re okay!” 

He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around you in the tightest embrace you two had ever shared. He pulled back, hardly noticing the way you stiffened in his embrace, cupping your cheeks so he could look into your eyes.

“Jack-” he faintly registered Ginger’s voice behind him, but he didn’t truly care. All he cared about was that you were safe. That is until you opened your mouth to talk.

“I’m sorry,” you smiled politely at him “but who are you?”

[ask-happy-hotel]

Happy Hotel episode description

Pre-Pilot.

Alice" Alastor" Escapes from his captor after seven years. He is reunited with Vox and tells him about his hotel idea. Meanwhile Princess Charlotte is getting in trouble with her mother. Also Cherri Bomb has to deal with Valentino and is Offered a place to stay at the Hazbin hotel by Alice and Vox.

Pilot ( That's entertainment)

Vox has Booked Alice an interview with Katy killjoy to get his Hotel out there. Cherri helps her best friend Angel dust defeat Husk and his dice boys. Alice Vox and Cherri meet Charlotte, Emily and Sir Pentious. Husk tries to Attack the Hotel only to be defeated by Charlotte. Who changes the name To the Happy Hotel.

Episode 1 ( Overture)

After Charlotte gives an Embarrassing commercial of the happy hotel. She gets a call from her mother who tells her to meet up with Adam. Not wanting to obey her mom the rebellious princess sends Alice instead. Who gladly accepts. Too bad Adam is a major narcissist jerk. Vox tries to make a new commercial and a deal with the princess is made. Also oops extermination is now in 6 months.

Episode 2 ( Princess killed the Excorsist)

We get an introduction to the Vees, Valentino, Velvette and Vaggie a former Excorsist angel who got her heart broke by Charlotte and now wants revenge. After finding out the Princess has finally left her castle She sends in a Spy. Husk. He joins the Hotel much to Cherri and Vox chagrin. However with the power of forgiveness and sorry. Husk decides to join the hotel for real.

Episode 3 ( Roll the Dice)

After Husk demonstrates how he doesn't trust anyone. Alice suggests Trust exercises. He recruits Vox in a leadership role. Charlotte has to take the dice boys to a royal meeting. Where she finds out that Carmilla has killed an Excorsist Angel. The others slowly learn to trust one another.

Episode 4 ( Masquerade)

Cherri has to go to work for her sexual abuse Boss Valentino. After Alice accidentally ruins things She is forced to work much harder. She goes back to the Happy Hotel to get some drinks only for Sir Pentious to not give her any hard ones. Cherri leaves in frustration and anger and Sir Pentious follows and rescues her from a bunch of perverts. He explains that at one time he was looking at being an overlord and almost got there. When something happened and he had to sell his soul to the princess. The two bond and go back to the Happy Hotel.

Episode 5 ( Mom Beat Sis)

Alice's adopted Hell mom Rosie is invited for a visit. After seven years she feels a bit estranged from her fawn baby. Charlotte decides to take advantage of that. We also learn she is on a leash with someone. Her ex boyfriend Seviathan comes over to try to win his love back. ( It doesn't work) She kicks him out after he brings danger to the hotel. Rosie and Alice make amends again. And she Tells him she can get him to heaven.

Episode 6 ( Welcome to Heaven)

Angel dust takes , Cherri, Emily and Husk who has a crush on him to a Sex club. Where Alot of awkward shenanigans happen. Alice and Vox go to heaven. They meet Sera and Nifty. Where Secrets are revealed. Including one where Vox was at one time the leader of the Vees. Cherri finally stands up to her boss Valentino.

Episode 7 ( Hello Daddy)

After finding out Vox was the leader of the Vees. Alice feels heartbroken. Charlotte uses that to her advantage and gets a deal. She takes him to meet her father who agrees to help with the extermination. Unfortunately he can't do anything unless his daughter life is threatened. Vox meets up with Carmilla and gets some training on how to defeat Angels. Lucifer helps Alice forgive Vox. Which he does.

Episode 8 ( The Show Must go on)

The night before Extermination The gang celebrates their last day. Husk nearly confesses to Angel dust. Vox finally after seven years confesses to Alice. Who reciprocates. ( He is Demiromantic Asexual in this). The next day is extermination day. Adam lute and the others come down. Charlotte fights Adam but is forced to retreat when She is heavily injured. Husk finally Confesses to Angel dust but is destroyed by Adam. Prompting Alice to finally unleash his full Radio demon self. Lucifer Comes in to help. But when Alice is Injured Mama Rosie goes in her Overlord form and attacks Adam. He is Spared by Alice but accidentally killed by a Clumsy Emily. Lute takes her Sisters and they all leave. A new Hotel is Made. Roo ( Alice Captor ) finally locates her pet. Husk is real carnation to Heaven. And we Meet an old Friend of Alice. Mimsy who is has been in heaven for Seven years after she made a deal with someone.

Some info on my Ask Happy Hotel.

Everything has already happened so you can Ask about how they feel about things and stuff like that