#but it's been almost a decade since so my memory of all that is so hazy

[dollettodraws]

was rewatching the box earlier, and I couldn’t help but think about how AvA 6/AvA s3 is going to mess up second so bad,,, like MORE than it already has

everyone’s already talked about vic and cho regarding it so I won’t reiterate it here, and idk if anyone else has talked about this so apologies in advance if they have but bruh just imagine this

in probably less than a day, your entire world changes- one second it’s just another regular day with you and your friends and all of a sudden you’re kidnapped alongside this other stick that as far as you’re aware is the most powerful dude ever, and ends up asking for your help and basically dragged you into a fight that wasn’t even yours. then you realise the one responsible is someone like you, a fellow hollowhead who has no special abilities compared to the immense power from dark and chosen. but then oh wait nvm you DO have powers, powers so intense that they had the potential to kill someone, and you can’t even properly process or talk about it with anyone since the moment you found out about this forgotten memory, they lock you up more intensely,,

and it’s only been 2 episodes so far, and there’s supposed to be 5 more, and I can only imagine how WILD it’s gonna get from here on out jdhjshdhcjd

eventually, second finds out his friends were after him, which probably wouldn’t surprise him given everything they’ve been through, but considering everything rocket corp has done so far, second would be extra fearful for them, and what would happen if they got their hands on em. and then he realises that yellow’s been kidnapped too, and suddenly he’s in even more distress.

second’s powers were activated through immense physical and mental trauma, so what’s going to happen to him next if he ends up activating them again in this season??? I can only speculate it’s going to be so much more fucked up, considering how dark season 3 has already been.

and then of course, there’s his relationship with alan, and how that’s going to be impacted (the character, not him irl)

despite the rough patch that was the beginning of their relationship, (yk, that rough patch being deleting his friends and threatening to delete him- wonder who that reminds me of haha :’D) they’ve been having it good and leaving at peace with each other +the colour gang for almost a decade at this point. alan is his creator, and he and the cg know that alan’s a good person. at least, now he is. but I have a feeling in season 3, alan’s past with his previous creations will come to light and suddenly second is questioning everything he thought he knew about the man that he sees as basically a father.

aside from second, literally all of alan’s creations have a vendetta against him (chosen is a bit iffy on this one, despite everything he’s still trying to protect alan from victim, but i still think there’d be a tinge of bitterness given everything he went through because of him).

when dark was the antagonist, his code led him to being extremely destructive, and (in my personal head canon lmao) he was doing everything he could to just fight against the fact that the one person he was SUPPOSED to destroy was his only true friend, and who better to destroy than the very person who gave him that code in the first place?

then there’s victim, who was created solely to be a discardable toy, something to play around with and beat up, and when he got bored, essentially tossed him into the void without a second thought. and now he’s back 17 years later, having taken everything he could from that less than 2 minutes he was alive and tortured, and created all this (rocket corp) to get back at alan and destroy him too.

and of course there’s chosen, who amongst the hollowheads seems to be the only one second can get along with- and he finds out that cho has been through literal hell and back, and that he was alan’s pop up slave and was left isolated and alone and met with nothing but neglect and disregard for the better part of 5 years, and his one confident was programmed to literally kill him, all thanks to, who else- but alan.

and second is in even more dismay and questioning everything. alan couldn’t have really done all that, right? he was a good person, he treats him and the cg so well,, and then he remembers.

wasn’t second going to be deleted by alan at the last second too?

he only let him live at the prospect he could offer something to him.

but that was years ago, he’s not like that anymore right? before, he could answer that question with confidence. I mean, he and the gang have messed up the pc multiple times at this point (ahem, AvM and the actual shorts lmfao) and he hasn’t punished them that gravely! but now that he knows the truth? would he get rid of them now?

aside from what might happen to him physically (given how we’ve seen how rocket corps handles things) the amount of damage this season is just going to do to second’s psyche is INSANE, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot now.

vic and cho, who are basically his brothers- they hate their creator for playing god with them and giving them the worst treatment possible. and then years later, he creates second, who was the only one to see alan’s good nature- and even though it’s not his fault, he would probably feel some sort of guilt and go over and over in his head as to why he didn’t end up like them. if he wasn’t a good animator, would his entire story be completely different?

not to mention that second is just so,,,different from the colour gang. he doesn’t look like them, he wasn’t created to be on a site like them, he was created to be, well- ‘the chosen one’s return’. he knew he was different before, but it didn’t bother him as much. and now, well I feel like this new season is just going to give second a massive identity and/or existential crisis

anyways I think about the hollowheads way too much I’m very normal about this ANYWAYS SNSNDNJDJDJD

#alan becker #animation vs animator #animator vs animation #ava tsc #ava the second coming #ava headcanons #does this count as a headcanon #idk but I’ll list it anyway idk how to tag this #I’ve just been thinking about this a lot lately. like…a lot a lot #second my poor baby #his entire family is fucked #doesn’t help that I picture him to be the youngest #ik alan said he was the oldest but the fact he came to life after the others were already around makes me question it #I should probably tag all my ramblings idk

[coloursflyaway]

I've been leaving comments on your fic because they're just wonderful & really hoping your inbox isn't flooded with prompts already because I'm longing for more "oh no the feelings are there all along" Edwin:

Nothing really changed between them since his second time in Hell, and Edwin wouldn't have it any other way. Except, now he's not sure how he used to keep his thoughts intact with Charles being around and... being Charles.

I love your character studies! They're so adorable, the way you write them.

Hi and thank you so much for the prompt, I had a ton of fun with it! ♥

The Most Tender Place In My Heart

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.200

Read on AO3

There is something said about the concept of hindsight, only that Edwin isn’t sure if it’s something good, per se. Because now that he knows what he feels for Charles, it’s like his brain is working overtime just to make sure that he is, in fact, in love with Charles, which is slightly ridiculous, since it only takes a single look for Edwin to confirm it again and again and again. It’s the way his heart flutters, his eyes get stuck on one of Charles’ features, his fingertips aching for the warm buzz touching Charles grants him. And yet, in those quiet moments between cases, or sometimes deep at night when they are both busy with their own research, Edwin’s mind wanders through the three decades they have known each other, searching and finding those moments in which Edwin could have known he was in love with Charles, had he ever allowed himself to consider the possibility.

Edwin goes down a trip down memory lane, and Charles needs someone to spell it out to him that he is in love.

There is something said about the concept of hindsight, only that Edwin isn’t sure if it’s something good, per se.

Because now that he knows what he feels for Charles, it’s like his brain is working overtime just to make sure that he is, in fact, in love with Charles, which is slightly ridiculous, since it only takes a single look for Edwin to confirm it again and again and again. It’s the way his heart flutters, his eyes get stuck on one of Charles’ features, his fingertips aching for the warm buzz touching Charles grants him. And yet, in those quiet moments between cases, or sometimes deep at night when they are both busy with their own research, Edwin’s mind wanders through the three decades they have known each other, searching and finding those moments in which Edwin could have known he was in love with Charles, had he ever allowed himself to consider the possibility.

It’s pointless, it’s quite distracting, and most importantly, Charles seems to be catching up on the fact that something is happening to Edwin, because it keeps happening.

Since, apparently, there is a plethora of instances for his treacherous brain to choose from.

It is the year 2002 and they are running through an abandoned school, the ghost of an enraged headmistress on their heels, whose spirit had gotten stuck to the metal ruler she is still brandishing. The ruler is the problem; it’s made of iron and it’s actually quite interesting that it doesn’t seem to hurt her at all, but burnt like hellfire when it had touched Edwin’s arm.

So, they are running to find somewhere to regroup and Charles is laughing. Why, Edwin isn’t quite sure, but there is no time to figure it out, at least not until Charles drags him into a supply closet, closing the door behind them. They’re very close like this, Edwin realises and isn’t sure why that seems to matter so much. It’s not like they haven’t been close before. And yet, his hands burn almost like he is touching iron, only pleasantly this time, as do his cheeks when Charles looks at him.

“Why are you laughing?”, he hisses to distract himself from the sensation; there is something wrong with it, but Edwin isn’t certain what. Hopefully it is no side effect from the iron before. “I fail to see anything funny about this!”

Charles grins at him and although they were just being chased by one of the few things that can cause them physical harm, he looks happy, he looks fond. Of Edwin. And that, at least, makes Edwin feel a bit better.

“It’s nothing”, Charles replies, although that is obviously untrue, because he is still smiling, “’s just that it reminds me of being in school so much. I used to spend quite some time running away from teachers back then. Only that this is better, of course. No detention, no letters to my parents and my best mate with me.”

And he reaches up to grasp Edwin’s upper arm, something he has started doing about ten years ago, and Edwin inexplicably feels like shivering, feels like pressing closer.

“Oi, Edwin!”, Charles calls out to him, looking amused when Edwin’s eyes focus back on him. “Where did you go?”

He must have spaced out, which is embarrassing, but, well. It’s the same school.

“We have been here before”, he replies weakly and Charles shakes his head, still fond of him, even after all these years.

“I know, that’s what I’ve been telling Crystal about”, he tells Edwin, gesturing towards Crystal, who is standing a few metres away, looking at a bulletin board of old, outdated flyers. “Is that what’s been happening to you, getting lost in old memories? Because I know you’re the brains of the operation, but I do notice these things.”

For a second, Edwin wants to deny it, but then again, he never made a habit out of lying to Charles and doesn’t want to start with it now. And in the end, it’s just memories they are talking about, harmless and innocent and in the end, also ones that Charles and he share.

So, he nods, and Charles gives him a smile, which almost feels like a reward.

“That’s cool”, Charles replies, although Edwin isn’t sure if agrees with the statement. “Tell me about it next time, yeah? Only if you want to, of course. But I’d really like to hear it.”

It is the year 1989, they have only known each other for a few weeks, and Charles pulls him into the first hug they ever share. He’s excited, because he has navigated them through the mirror successfully, something that had ended in disaster every other time, and Edwin has hardly even stepped through it when Charles’ arms are around him, dragging him close. He feels solid against Edwin’s chest, a faint buzz spreading across where they are touching, and Edwin doesn’t know how to react, because he hasn’t been touched like this – kindly, like he matters, with the intent to give comfort, not pain – in so long, he has quite forgotten what to do.

“Finally did it”, Charles says next to his ear, and pulls him closer still. He seems quite oblivious to the fact that Edwin is just standing there, and that’s good, because Edwin doesn’t think he could move if he tried to. It feels strange, being in Charles’ arms, makes him tingle, become overly aware of just where Charles’ arms are resting on his back, where his chin is digging into Edwin’s shoulder.

Maybe, he thinks, and it makes him giddy, like this is something forbidden, something sweet, he’ll be able to return the embrace the next time.

He considers it for far too long, especially because in the end, the decision turns out to be quite easy, based on one thing alone: Charles had asked for it.

They are back at the agency, Charles reorganising his backpack, and Edwin looks up at him from his book, and the words just tumble out, before he can stop them. “Do you remember the first time we hugged?”, he asks, and Charles makes a little sound, pulling their emergency bone saw from his backpack before looking over at Edwin.

“Yeah, sure. You were a little stiff back then, but I still remember how happy I was because you were so solid. I think you were the first thing I felt after I died, like, really felt”, he replies, then pauses for a moment so he can turn to face Edwin fully. “Why are you asking?”

If he still physically could, Edwin would be blushing, like this, he just feels flustered, phantom heat spreading down his throat, through his limbs until it touches his fingertips. “Ah”, he starts, rather unintelligently, “you were asking about the memories, the ones that distract me occasionally. You wanted me to tell you about them.”

Charles nods slowly, but his brows are furrowed like he is trying to put together a puzzle he doesn’t have all the pieces for yet. Edwin would very much prefer if he never found the missing ones. “Why that one?”, he eventually asks, and that’s the rest of the pieces, right there.

Of course, he could lie by omission, or just pretend he does not know the answer, but in the end, Charles will figure it out anyway. He is a detective after all. So instead, Edwin takes a deep breath he doesn’t need and rips the band aid off with one single sentence, even if it stings.

“Because I am fairly certain that I harboured some kind of romantic feeling for you even back then, only that I did not know how to recognise it.”

Silence stretches between them, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, and even if Edwin can feel the nervousness seep into the cracks of his mind as it continues, he says nothing; Charles deserves the time he needs to digest this.

So, he waits, and eventually, Charles’ eyes clear and he smiles at Edwin, a small, soft, tender curve of his lips that shouldn’t mean as much as it does.

“Thank you for telling me”, he says, and Edwin knows that he means it by the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. “And, if you want to, I’d like to hear the next one, too.”

It is the year 2017 and their hands brush together when they are standing in front of a very angry sorcerer, who has been shouting at them for the better part of ten minutes. Usually, it would pose little problem, but the reason they are standing here is that they have been summoned; the circle and the runes around them the only things keeping them here. The sorcerer will get sloppy, Edwin knows that, and he will come too close and Charles will hit him with his cricket bat, use his body to wipe away the runes, but until then, they are stuck here.

And their hands brush together, which they have done a thousand times before, only that now, Charles hooks his little finger around Edwin’s, gives it a little squeeze. It’s made to soothe him, and it does, and if Edwin thinks about it for the rest of the week, he refuses to wonder why.

“Back in the late 2010s”, he tells Charles on a case, Crystal just out of earshot. “You nearly took my hand when we had been summoned by one of those idiotic wizards and I thought about it for days. I am fairly certain I was in love with you back then, too.”

Charles looks over to him from where he is standing, eyes widening for a second, before they go soft once more. “I remember that, I think”, Charles says, and maybe they aren’t remembering the same sorcerer, the same situation, but that hardly matters. “Thank you for telling me.”

And later, much later, Charles takes his hand and intertwines their fingers, and it’s the same rush, the same buzz; Edwin thinks about it for the rest of the week and doesn’t pretend otherwise.

It is the year 1992 and they have just established the agency, found a psychic who would let them rent out the top floor for the cheap price of keeping an eye on his offspring after he had passed on.

“You know, this is pretty brills”, Charles says, laying on the floor and staring up at the ceiling, as if it was the open sky. “I never thought much about being dead, but so far, it’s been fantastic.”

“You think so?”, Edwin asks, sitting down next to his still-new friend. He won’t lie down, not with all the dust, the cobwebs, but he still wants to be closer to Charles if possible. “I wouldn’t hold it against you if you missed your life.”

“Nah, it’s all good”, Charles tells him, a lopsided smile on his plush lips and even if Edwin suspects that the statement won’t be true forever, in every situation, it is now. “Nowhere I’d rather be here, is there? Starting a detective agency with my best mate. Don’t you agree?”

He does, only that he suspects that, unlike for Charles, it’s an answer that won’t change again.

“Do you remember when we first started the agency?”, Edwin asks and Charles laughs, maybe for good reason. “Of course. How could I ever forget that?”

He sits down next to Edwin on the sofa, and his eyes are so kind, so warm that Edwin feels like he might fall in love with him all over again. “I wish I had lain down with you on the floor back then, on our first night here”, he tells Charles, and resists the urge to reach out and put a hand on his thigh, his knee, any part of his body he could reach.

“No, you don’t”, Charles answers, and there is still laughter in his voice, making it even more lovely. “You would have been impossible about it after, with all the dust and the dirt.”

“They can’t get dirty, they’re spectral”, Edwin protests, but Charles just shakes his head.

“It would have felt like it though, wouldn’t it? You would have known it and you would have been insufferable about it”, he says and he is right and knows it too. “Actually, maybe you should have laid down with me, it would have been pretty funny.”

And he laughs and Edwin joins in, and finally does reach out and rests his hand on Charles’ ankle, and revels in how right it feels.

It is the year 2011, they are in Florence to investigate a statue that is rumoured to start moving at night, a sure sign of some kind of haunting, and it’s night, the stars illuminating the sky like little pinpricks.

And Edwin looks over at Charles to say something, only for the words to die right there on his lips, because Charles looks so beautiful in the dim light. Almost ethereal, the deep shadows making his cheekbones sharper, his lashes darker, the quirk of his lips more pronounced.

Appreciating the human form is important, no matter the gender, Edwin tries to rationalise it later, but for weeks, there is something like apprehension whenever he looks over at his best friend.

They are walking through Norwich, trying to find an heirloom, and the sunlight catches the silver necklace Charles is wearing, making Edwin think of stars and the night sky and the brightness of his leash spells, only that this is one he wears happily, proudly.

“One time in Florence, you looked so beautiful it would have taken my breath away, if I had still been breathing”, he tells Charles, and it shouldn’t be so easy to do it. But Charles just looks at him, warmth and affection and understanding painted across his features in bold, impossibly to miss strokes, and Edwin wonders how it could ever be difficult instead.

“We haven’t been in Florence in ages”, Charles says, and Edwin nods.

“I remember it anyway”, he answers although Charles hasn’t even phrased the question yet, and he thinks it will stay at just that, but Charles hums, stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“You know”, he tells Edwin after a few moments, and he doesn’t sound reluctant, just like he is putting a thought into words for the first time, “sometimes, usually when it is rather late, I look over at you and I don’t want to look away again.”

And he smiles at Edwin, like it is nothing, nothing at all.

It is the year 1999 and Charles brings a book back from his walk. He doesn’t go out on his own often, but sometimes when Edwin gets too focussed on his research, he leaves so he can walk the streets aimlessly. Sometimes, he goes to see a concert, occasionally visits a club, and when he gets back to the agency, he tells Edwin all about it without fail.

This time, however, Charles doesn’t say a word, only puts the book down in front of Edwin and waits for him to look up. When Edwin does, there is a strange, faraway look in his eyes that Edwin doesn’t like at all.

“What is the matter?”, he asks, and then, when Charles does not reply, adds, “Did something happen?”

“I realised that I will be dead for a decade next week”, Charles finally answers, but the expression doesn’t change; Edwin wants nothing more than to reach up and wipe it from his face with his thumbs.

“I know”, Edwin says. It is an anniversary he has never brought up but also never forgotten.

“That’s more than half as long as I was alive”, Charles continues and sounds brittle somehow, “Isn’t that strange?”

“Yes”, Edwin agrees.

“So, I thought”, Charles starts and then stops, pushes a hand through his hair and leaves it mussed. “I thought, maybe you could read to me? It made me feel better back then, and I’m not quite sure how I feel now.”

And Edwin looks down at the book in front of him; it’s a detective story. G. K. Chesterton, someone whose work Edwin knows quite well.

“Of course”, he says, and gets up to fulfil his promise, “Anything you need, Charles, anything at all.”

“Do you remember the tenth anniversary of your death?”, Edwin asks, a finger resting on the spine of that particular G. K. Chesterton novel. The Man Who Was Thursday, not a particular favourite of his, but now a novel that holds a special place in his heart.

“Sure”, Charles says from where he is sitting on their armchair, legs dangling over the side of it. “What of it?”

“I should have hugged you, that night when you asked me to read to you”, Edwin says and pulls the book from its shelf.

“I would have liked that”, Charles answers, but there is no judgement in his voice, just fondness. Like it is enough that Edwin knows that now. “You can hug me now, if you want to.”

He puts down the comic he is reading and holds out his arms; makes Edwin laugh until his chest doesn’t feel heavy with sorrow any longer, and feels so right in his arms when Edwin comes over and embraces him, no matter how awkward the angle, the book digging into their sides.

“I think”, Edwin mutters into the space between Charles’s shoulder and neck just before he pulls away once more, “that if I had let myself back then, I would have liked it, too.”

It is the year 2004 and Charles grasps his arm when they are walking down the street, which feels like a luxury after spending two weeks on a case that allowed them hardly any moment of rest.

“Could we stop for a bit?”, Charles asks, and for a second, Edwin doesn’t know why he would want to, but then he hears the guitar playing, hears the girl’s voice ringing through the street. She’s a street musician and it’s close to Christmas so she is wearing a Santa hat as she sings, her fingers slowly turning blue from the cold.

And she’s pretty, but Edwin hardly notices, even if he fears that Charles does.

The tune sounds out of place, because it isn’t even close to December, yet the cafe Crystal drags them into is playing a carol. It isn’t the same on as it was back then, because this is not about fairytales and not about New York, but when Crystal leaves them at their table to get a drink, Edwin turns to Charles anyway.

“In 2004, you wanted to stop and listen to a singer on the street”, he tells him, words jumbled together by how quickly he is talking; he has to get this out before Crystal returns. As much as he likes her now, this is between Charles and he alone. “I was jealous because she was beautiful and you looked at her like you knew it.”

A moment passes, and then Charles laughs softly, reaches out to cover Edwin’s hand with his own where it is resting on the table. “Edwin, mate”, he says, and he sounds tender, loving, warm. “I’m sure she didn’t compare to you.”

It is the year 2006 and if he could still feel, the sun would be hot on his skin, warming up limbs that have forgotten the feeling. Like this, he only imagines it, and finds that the memory of sunshine feels the same as the memory of Charles smiling at him, Charles taking his hand as not to get lost in the dark, as Charles hugging him when he is happy, exhausted, relieved.

Edwin doesn’t try and imagine sunshine after that.

There is a single ray of sunlight coming through the window of their agency, illuminating a spot just right of Charles’ feet, and the memory hits Edwin so hard it would leave him gasping if he still breathed.

“You alright?”, Charles asks from where he is sitting and when he looks at Edwin, it really feels like sunshine, feels like warmth and a gentle breeze on a summer’s day. “Yes”, he answers and it’s true, because he’s finally basking in sunlight once more. “It’s just that I truly love you, Charles.”

“Love you, too”, Charles replies without missing a beat, a smile that feels like summer rain on Edwin’s skin.

He turns back to his book, and Edwin doesn’t expect more, doesn’t need more, but then, just a few seconds later, Charles looks up again. His brows are drawn together, like something is puzzling him, and Edwin, who was still watching, knows that whatever he will say will be important.

“Hey, so this might be a strange question, so if you don’t wanna answer it, that’s fine”, he says, and Edwin would tell him whatever he wanted to know. “But, like. How did you know you were in love with me?”

It’s not the question Edwin expected, it’s not a question he ever expected to answer, but Charles looks like he truly cares about his response, so Edwin swallows down the hint of panic rising in his throat.

“I had someone spell it out for me”, he says and thinks about Monty for a moment, his curiosity, his kind eyes and soft lips. “And as soon as I heard the words, I just knew they were true. Maybe that is why my mind keeps searching for all the times I could have known it before then.”

There is a pause in which Charles just watches him, then he gives Edwin a smile that looks strange on his lips, unfamiliar even after all the years they have known each other. “Thank you”, he says, and there is something in his voice too. “I really mean that. Thank you for trusting me.”

As if Edwin could do anything but.

It is the year 1995 and it’s so late it’s early again, and even though he doesn’t have a physical body, Edwin is still exhausted. They’re on a case and it’s just been dragging and dragging on without an end in sight, and no matter through how many books they go through, there seems to be no solution, no explanation, no way to stop the curse.

He’s all but swearing under his breath when he picks up another volume from the desk, thick and bound in dark linen. It’s the eighth one in a row and the letters are starting to blur in front of his eyes, but he has to make sense of this somehow; they cannot let the young man who hired them suffer any longer.

A grown escapes his lips, and a few moments later, there is a hand on his shoulder, another one gently closing the book in front of him. “I think that’s enough for today”, Charles says softly, and while the letters were hazy, his face is crystal clear.

“But-”, Edwin tries, but Charles just squeezes his shoulder and when he smiles down at Edwin, it feels like a benediction.

“We’ll continue tomorrow”, Charles tells him, and Edwin is powerless to do anything but nod.”For now, lets just go upstairs and watch the stars.”

London is spread out before them and it’s been decades since Edwin has truly missed feeling the wind against his skin, but he does so now as they settle back against the wall, Charles’ head tipped back to watch the night sky.

“I think I loved you even back in 1995”, Edwin tells him.

There is no response for a while, the silence not unpleasant, but unexpected. They have found a rhythm with these small confessions by now; Edwin will share a memory and Charles will give something back. It makes it easier for Edwin and he hopes, thinks, believes that it does the same for Charles.

Eventually, Charles turns his head, and his eyes are dark, unreadable, beautiful.

“I think I love you now”, he says, and for a few moments, Edwin doesn’t hear him.

“I know”, he answers when he does, and Charles smiles at him, fond and sweet, like he has missed Edwin for decades and only found him again.

“I don’t think you do”, he responds, unmoving, and something around them shifts; the stars grow brighter, the sky darker, the small corner of the roof they are sitting in smaller. “But I want you to.”

And he leans in and presses the softest, the sweetest, the most certain kiss to Edwin’s lips. It’s over before Edwin can react, but Charles stays close and watches his reaction, his gaze so intense it feels like a touch in its own right, a caress to Edwin’s skin.

“How…?”, he whispers into the space between them; it doesn’t feel real. How do you love me, he wants to ask, how did you fall in love with me,and how are you certain of it? And most importantly, how do you know it now, after so much time?

Charles seems to hear all of it in just one word, because he moves his hand so he can link their little fingers together, and replies, “I had someone spell it out for me, memory by memory.”

And kisses Edwin again.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbd #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #i am genuinely unwell about them

[taegularities]

i'm hurt 🥲

#it's been 8 years and i still dream of my best friend who i was in love with in high school #last night was way too much though #like i met him again and replayed all the memories we had.. like dancing around in the rain #and since it was raining i told him to dance with me again even though it felt different #i knew he didn't feel shit for me bc he rejected me back in hs too but when i started talking about another guy he did NOT like it #and he admitted it... questioned me about him and then we kissed ??? #he told me to call him every now n then bc up until now it was always just him calling. like the jealousy was SO OBVIOUS #we kind of get together.. literally my 18 y/o's dream coming true like y'all i was SO IN LOVE WITH HIM LMAO #and then i ask him 'be honest did you feel something for me back in hs' and he just won't answer 🥲 keeps dodging the question... #suggests smth that sounds like a yes but then i woke up 😐 #i just wanted to let this out... idk it's crazy to me that even after all those years i still think of him #like if he approached me today and asked me out i just KNOW i'd give in. even though it's been almost a decade. i would definitely give in #first loves.. especially unrequited ones... leave an impact fr #my dream sounded like a fic i'd like to come true but well that's not how life works #anyways i'm just sentimental lol tdl ?? #personal

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 26

“Diamonds in the Mud” by Gerry Cinnamon

#song of the day #another song off that same excellent concept playlist by losersimonriley #there's so many more Scottish bands added to my circulation now it's wonderful #this is a song specifically about Glasgow being his hometown so he uses more of his accent for it which I love #I've been pestering my brothers with accent and slang fun facts for a while now #more or less since the first time somebody had Soap use a particular Scottish saying in their CoD fic and made me go over all !!!! #'innsidh na geòidh as t'fhoghar e' translates to 'the geese will tell it in autumn' and reading that nearly made me explode #because when I was a small child and I asked my uncle too many 'why' questions he told me not to worry about it #that the geese would tell me next fall #amazing to me to find out decades later through Call of Duty fanfiction that that's an actual phrase #preserved for who knows how many generations between the first Scottish folks who must've brought it to Appalachia #and then eventually my Uncle Tommy who decided to use it to turn the aggravation tables around on a child #I'm thinking about that again now not just because it still blows my mind a little bit #(really truly had so firmly accepted it as just my Uncle Tommy trolling me with nonsense. it's such a thing he'd do) #but also because of a specific bit from the end of the song 'it's thirteen degrees and there's folk in the street in the scud' #that's just under 60F (a blissfully warm sunny day in Glasgow it seems) and 'in the scud' means 'naked' #which is also a thing I've almost heard from my family! #my aunts up the mountain and therefore also my father at times would say 'in the scuff' (my aunts with a little tilt to the vowel sound) #there was a sort of connotation of it being a silly or immature or maybe drunken sort of naked. an unimpressive naked at least #like 'Tommy fell into the muddy end of the pond trying to catch that damnfool heron' (this is a true story btw. take that Uncle Tommy) #'when he got back his wife made him take off all his clothin in the yard and hose down first. had to walk into his house in th scuff' #and then all the old ladies cackle about Tommy walkin through his door 'both heads hangin low' and my dad winces a little bit #it's important I share all these memories with my siblings now. most of the family's dead and gone and the boys don't remember #very fun for me to tell the stories now and see Nick do the exact same wince at the slightly mean-spirited dick commentary #just a little family legacy in action. thank you Gerry Cinnamon #(in the spirit of song-of-the-day though I will share my favorite line without the contextual boost of silly ereborne family stories: #'I know a guy who's a lightweight / one or two jars and he's buckled #he's the guy that loses keys / has to break into his ain house and gets huckled' #ungodly fun to sing and I do know several of this guy. not related to them though. my whole family drinks like fish)

[justalittlebluetiefling]

Byakuya is one of the most complex characters in Bleach, presenting as villainous early on but with multiple layers of complexity that are explained throughout the franchise. He is calm and collected 98.5% of the time, and is incredibly powerful and controlled. His skill is rivaled by few, but respected by many. Without spoiling anything, he is truly a bedrock of the series and generally considered to be a fan favorite. There might be some better examples of this, but I believe he is a great example of the D&D high wizard analogue for the shinigami. Take that as you will, I have simply observed the characters you tend to favor in other stories and he sort of screams your type. That’s all. I certainly did not mean to offend or confuse with my comment.

No way, anon, you totally did not offend with your comment. It was SO entertaining to me. Reading all this, I am very intrigued to get further in the series than I did last time, because this is definitely my type.

#honestly when i first read the ask i half-squeaked half-laughed #probably because i'm still on the soul society rukia rescue arc and actually #i was on the renji v byakuya fight today #so the timing was actually hilarious #like i KNOW he flips sides for lack of a better phrase because i watched at least 100+ episodes back in the day #but it's been almost a decade since so my memory of all that is so hazy #erin answers things #anonymous

[tardis--dreams]

Pompeii came out 10 years ago: sounds right. that's not even that long ago?!

Last all time low concert was 5.5 years ago: absolutely not. that's literally impossible. that's like half a lifetime, the Fuck?!

#okay but hear me out #10 years ago i was in school. completely different part of my life than now. it feels 'accurate' to be a decade old #atl being over 5 years ago just hits with so much more force #because (sorry in advance) it really does almost feel like nothing changed at all since then #same university. even same study program. it feels so recent in my memory despite me knowing it was ages ago #but with corona it's even worse #because i still haven't registered it's been THREE fucking years and these 3 years still don't seem real #so idk it kinda feels like these years shouldn't be included in these 5.5 years #sorry #having an existential crisis over this

[bunnylovesani]

A Marriage Story

Summary: You met your husband Spencer at college and fell in love at first sight. A decade later, he’s struggling to be the man you need after spending months away in prison. Can you find your way back to each other even when outside influences want to keep you apart?

Content warnings: smut, fluff and angst all rolled into one, rough sex, oral sex, degradation, sub/dom dynamics, references to infidelity and divorce

WC: 10.7k

“Can’t sleep?” You peered into the living room to see your husband slouched across the sofa, sporting a stiff, groggy expression as he examined what looked to be a pine-green leatherbound book.

“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” He mumbled in response, barely looking up. Spencer was snarky by nature- it was something you’d grown accustomed to and even found endearing- but you were woefully unprepared for just how much would change following his stint in prison. 

“You can barely read in here, it’s so dark.” You grumbled as you stretched to turn on an orange light posted in the corner. Your fingertips brushed past the bobbly canvas of the lampshade as you recalled how the appliance was a wedding gift. You weren’t exactly sure who bestowed it to you but the memory made you a little misty-eyed. 

“And you don’t have your glasses either.” You muttered under your breath as you readily paced to your bedroom down the hall to retrieve his black-rimmed specs. “Here you go.” You extended your arm out, waiting for him to take them out of your grasp but he paid no notice. 

“Spence.” You nudged him but he just shook his head wordlessly and retreated into his pages even more, squinting profusely. Perching beside him, you tucked his unruly waves out of his face and nestled them behind his ear before carefully sliding on his glasses, letting them rest on the delicate bridge of his nose. 

“Thanks.” He whispered after a while and you tried your best not to sigh at the state of your husband. His under eyes throbbed purple, the darkness consuming them in a veiny, crescent spill. There was no avoiding the way Spencer’s eyes had gradually dullened, as if the light had drained from them entirely. 

“It’s 3 in the morning, my love. Clearly that stiff sofa isn’t doing you any favours, why don’t you try sleeping in our bed tonight?” You hummed, nervously pawing at his forearm in anticipation of his answer. 

“Not tonight.” He dismissed, shaking off your hand as he recoiled from you. 

“You always said that sleeping with me put your mind to rest. Let me scoop you up into my arms and I’ll bet those nightmares will ease right up.” You nuzzled into him playfully, badly craving that now unfamiliar warmth. It had been 3 months since Spencer returned home from jail and another 3 since you’d even slept in the same room. 

“That was back then.” He replied coldly, swallowing a lump in his throat before finally looking up to meet your gaze. “The sofa is just fine now.” 

“So you plan on spending the rest of our marriage sleeping in here, do you?” You laughed in disbelief, overwhelmed by the incredible misfortune that had struck your husband- and by cursed extension, you.

“I didn’t say that.” He ripped off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with tired frustration. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I have been more than understanding.” You observed the broken man hunched over before you with both pity and unbridled anger. “But my lenience has a limit. At some point, you have to get over it.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through.” He snapped back, almost interrupting. 

“Because you won’t tell me.” You countered, blood pressure rising over his incredulous obstinance. “How am I supposed to help you if you don’t let me?”

“I don’t need your help.” He scoffed, shuffling back as if the slightest contact with you made his skin crawl. 

“I am your wife.” You uttered solemnly, the words beginning to sound foreign to you both. “Or have you forgotten?”

“How could I? You never leave me alone.” He stated carelessly with such absurd cruelty that it made your heart split in two. 

“Who are you? I don’t even recognise you anymore.” Your voice trembled as tears swelled and you willed yourself not to fall apart entirely right then and there. 

“I don’t recognise myself either.” He murmured inaudibly.

Awkwardly plumping the pillows you had flattened as you rose, you straightened out your cotton nightie and headed towards the solitary bedroom, leaving Spencer glaring shamefully at the floor. 

“Do you remember our wedding day?” You whispered into the doorway, unsure whether he would even hear. 

“Of course I do.” He sighed heavily, as if the memory hurt him and he wasn’t too grateful for the reminder. 

Realising that those were the only words you’d be able to coax out of him tonight, you proceeded down the corridor and slumped into bed defeatedly. The right side of the bed was always kept empty, partly out of habit and partly out of hope that he might, by some miracle, change his mind one of these nights and join you. A particular quote that your husband once read aloud from a Nietzsche book sprang to mind: “In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.” He had laughed it off as the words left his perfect lips, dismissing the mournful proclamation as pessimistic melodrama- but now you wondered whether the boy genius had, for once, been wrong. Clutching a rumpled old pillow close to your chest, you thought back to better days as your melancholy lulled you to sleep. 

“Spencer, you’re so annoying.” You playfully slapped his forearm once you caught sight of the little drawings he was leaving in your notebook. “This journal is for my notes, not your mediocre art. Is that one meant to be me?” You pointed at the silly stickman with long hair and a speech bubble declaring ‘I love Spencer’. 

“Well you’re obviously not the ruggedly handsome one.” He gestured at the nerdy-looking bespectacled caricature of himself. It was evident he didn’t have the highest self regard but you couldn’t figure out why- to you, there was no one more perfect. “Do you write about me in your little diary?” He glided the pages out of your reach and began flicking through their contents with a sneer. Knowing exactly what he would find, you allowed him to skim through your written confession as you witnessed his expression soften. 

“I met a guy today in my criminology class.” He muttered, reading an early entry aloud. “I hardly know anything about him, but I’m already certain I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Is that crazy? To love a complete stranger? I think I would let him drive me into the furthest depths of insanity if it meant I could hold onto a piece of him forever.” 

You blushed hearing your own words spilling from his lips, recalling the day you met on your first day of college. 

“Wait.” Spencer put your notebook down before frantically rummaging through his backpack to retrieve his own. Yanking out a pine-green leatherbound journal, he flitted through its pages before turning it around and sliding it across the library desk. “Read this here.” He tapped a passage located right around the middle with an impatient forefinger. 

“Okay…” You drawled hesitantly, sliding your textbooks out of the way to focus on the script put before you. “I met a girl today. That doesn’t really happen to me. Liking aforementioned girl is even more of a rarity but today, I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. There I was, my nose deep in a second edition tome of Fundamentals of Research in Criminal Justice when someone who could only be described as a blinding ray of sunshine bounded into the lecture hall. When she took a seat in the back row beside me and made a deliciously snide comment over Garland’s incompetency in examining the Lombrosian Project, I knew I was a goner. Note to self: do further research on what it means to be ‘in love’.” 

“Yours was a little more romantic.” He chuckled, observing the incredulous look on your face. 

“Spence…” You shook your head as you grabbed his hand and tried unsuccessfully to convey the complexity of your feelings. “I- I don’t know what to say.” 

“I love you.” He said simply, like he had many times before but you never grew tired of hearing it. 

“I love you too.” You grinned, resisting the urge to kiss him and give surrounding students in the stuffy library a show. 

“Can I ask you something crazy? But promise not to think about it too much.” He chewed on his bottom lip with an almost crazed look in his eyes. 

“You can’t surprise me anymore.” You nodded, giggling. 

“Do you want to get married?” The question made you break out into a flurry of goosebumps, contradicting your last sentence entirely. 

“W-what?” You raised your eyebrows, listening intently for a sign that he was just teasing. 

“Right now. Lets go somewhere and get married.” You scanned his handsome face in shock as you realised he was being serious. 

“B-but we’re only 22. We’re so young.” 

“Yes, we are.” He calmly responded, allowing you to run through all your doubts.

“A-and we still haven’t graduated.” 

“No, we haven’t.” He shook his head.

“And oh, our parents would be so mad!”

“They very well might be. Marry me anyway.” He flashed a broad, toothy smile and the way it made your heart stop gave you the only indication you needed. 

“Okay.” You smiled. 

“Okay?!” He repeated in surprise.

“Okay. I’ll marry you.” 

Spencer shot out of his seat, lifting you up with him as he grabbed you by the face, planting excitable kisses over your lips and cheeks. 

“Don’t we need to make appointments for this kind of thing?” You squeaked out between kisses, the logistical cogs in your mind whirring. 

“Well, baby.” He paused, gazing into your eyes with a mischevious twinkle. “It’s a good thing we live in Vegas.” 

Grabbing each other’s hand with a fervour you thought would last forever, you headed straight to a walk-in chapel, where along with two drunken witnesses you dragged off the street and a pair of vending machine wedding bands, you officiated your love. The haughtily dressed minister, who resembled a cowboy more than a government official thanks to his white, studded getup- took several takes before agreeing to ordain the ceremony. “Crazy kids…” he muttered under his breath when you managed to persuade him, ushering you down the altar with a disapproving sigh.

Spencer marvelled at how you could look so beautiful in a cheap, rented veil and he vowed that day that he would never dare take you for granted. He would make damn sure to remember just how blessed he was, no matter what life threw at him. 

He remained true to his word for the most part, proceeding to spend the next decade or so faithfully by your side. As in most areas of his life, Spencer excelled at being a husband. After his first substantial promotion, he knew exactly what to spend all his savings on: he made a beeline to Tiffany’s for a long overdue engagement ring, surprising you with the small robin’s-egg-blue box on a random Tuesday night. You loved it, of course, and gushed over the lavish diamond, proudly flashing it to anyone who would let you- though you kept your tarnished old band on your bedside table and observed it with nostalgic fondness. 

Every promise Spencer made, Spencer kept. From the silly details down to the crux of your marriage, he was unfalteringly respectful, supportive and always appreciative. 

You certainly weren’t too shabby playing the part of his wife either. Dinner was always on the table, the house was always spick and span and you had no shortage of tight outfits to greet him home dressed up in. You hadn’t ever anticipated your role in life would be that of a housewife but Spencer made it easy- and if you had to be one, a loving, handsome genius was the man for the job. You figured you could do worse.

When the company you worked for years ago filed for bankruptcy and you were too burnt out to look elsewhere, your husband was more than happy to assume his new position as the breadwinner. 

While the thought of relying on a man used to inundate you with horror, this particular man was like something out of a movie- for him, you made every exception, choosing a life of domestic bliss in suburbia over the dreams you once had. You weren’t the most fulfilled woman in the world but you’d never had serious concerns- until this year. It wasn’t Spencer’s habit of overprioritising work, nor his stretch in prison- it wasn’t even the thousand yard stare that painted his face at all hours of the day following his release. 

It was the arrival of the sudden and unprecedented thought that he might actually leave you. 

As many fights as you’d had over the years, the possibility that Spencer may not be the man you spend the rest of your life with had never once crossed your mind- you had it ticked off as a definite and planned your life accordingly around that simple fact. You thought you had agreed that nothing could ever tear you apart. 

But now; the way he recoiled when you came near him and the disdain that dripped from his voice when he spoke to you had you reconsidering whether the man you knew would ever make a return. 

It was your biggest fear and everything your mother had warned you about; her nauseating words gnawed at you as you remembered how staunchly she opposed your impromptu decision to get married. She never really accepted Spencer- choosing instead to graciously tolerate him as a favour to you, but neither of you were under any illusions as to what her real thoughts on the matter were. 

“There you are, I was beginning to think you stood me up.” The lofty voice of your mother rang out and the air sharply shifted around her. 

“Sorry, mother. I- uh, woke up a little late. Got caught in the midday traffic.” You sniffled, trying your utmost to be subtle over the fact you’d spent all morning weeping pathetically in bed.

“Yes, I suppose that’s something you can afford being unemployed and childless.” She scoffed, suspiciously eyeing up your puffy face. “Though I suspect traffic isn’t to blame on this particular occasion.” 

“Of course it is.” You dismissed, taking a seat before her at the garden restaurant you had agreed to meet for lunch in. It was a little too snooty for your taste, but then so was she. 

Burying your face in the menu before she had the chance to inspect your somewhat ragged appearance further, you tried to ignore her heavy sighing. 

“I worry about you, you know.” She lowered your menu with a pristinely manicured finger. 

“Oh trust me, I know.” You rolled your eyes and snatched the menu back, eyeing up the scandalously named cocktails and wondering how many you could get away with ordering. 

“I’m being serious. Your whole life revolves around him. And he’s a mess. You know what that makes you?” She reached into her handbag and fished for a compact mirror.

“Please, enlighten me.” You groaned as she checked her mauve lipstick. 

“A mess by extension.” She haughtily added, snapping the mirror closed with a snappy click. “And it’s my job as your mother to set you straight.”

“Lucky me.” You muttered, disinterested. 

“Listen to me, young lady. I don’t care how old you get or how much you think you know, I know better. You need to come back down to Earth and realise that your marriage is failing.” She snakes her hand across the table and places it on top of your own. “Prison changes a man. He’s not the Spencer you once knew.”

“You think I don’t know that?” You retorted stroppily. “I know he’s changed but that doesn’t mean we’re going to- we’re not getting a- you know…”

“Divorce?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that.” You shrugged. 

“It fills me with deep concern that you can’t even say the word. How are you going to function when he leaves you?”

“Mother!” You gasped. 

“Oh, if and when, same thing.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively, her nimble pearl bracelets clinking against one another. “My point is, darling, you must accept that there’s a…significant possibility your life will change. You need to be ready for it.” 

“No.” You shook your head, refusing to let her words sink in. “Spence wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave me.”

“Oh?” She finally removed her sunglasses and you caught sight of the genuine concern in her steely eyes. “What did he say to you before you left this morning?” 

Your eyes shot to the floor as you remembered how he’d elected to go to work early, leaving the house without a farewell as was his routine these days. Seeing the anxiety and shame written all over your face, your mother sighed yet again. 

“Men in these situations often seek comfort in others.” She softened her tone but not her words. “You’re too close to the situation to make him feel better about it. You know too much.” 

“What are you trying to say?” You squinted. 

“He needs to feel like a man right now. And you can’t give him that.” She innocently sipped from the paper straw floating in her lemon water. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismissed her, the thought of Spencer cheating inconceivable. 

“Look out for the signs. If he’s working late too often, if he has secretive phone calls…” She trailed off. “It can’t hurt to pay attention.” 

Although you tried not to let them, her words had a nagging way of worming themselves into your brain and never coming back out. 

Later that evening, you returned to the empty confines of your house and spent several hours anxiously flitting your eyes to the clock on the wall. He should’ve been home early today. 

“Spence, is that you?” You called out once you heard the faint clicking of the door unlocking. The slow thudding of his heavy footsteps was heard before he entered your bedroom, looking very weary and sporting even more stubble than usual. 

“Who else would it be?” He asked with a shadow of a smile. Offering no explanation, he peeled off his blazer and loosened his tie as he perched on the edge of the bed. 

“Must be a really tough case you’re working on with the amount of overtime shifts you’ve been putting in.” You cleared your throat.

“It’s, uh, it’s been a tricky one. Yeah.” A deafening silence followed his obscure reply.

“Did you give any more thought to taking time off work?” You continued, yearning to wrap your arms around him but resisting. 

“No. I mean, yes I did, but I don’t want any time off. It wouldn’t help, I can hardly stand being at home.” You gulped at the hurtful connotation and he turned around to face you. “No, I didn’t mean like that. Not because of you. You know what I’m trying to say.” 

“Not sure I do.” You muttered under your breath. 

“I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep, stabilising breath. “I just need time.”

“Of course, Spence, I understand that. It’s only that- well,  i-it’s been 6 months. 6 months of me doting on you and letting you get away with acting and speaking to me however you like. At what point does it end?” Your words had a desperate tinge to them. “I need some kind of indication.”

“I can’t tell you the exact time and date that I will forget everything that happened to me.” He stood up with a huff and you knew you’d touched a nerve.

“Don’t get defensive, I’m just trying to talk to you.” You got up and stood beside him, laying a flat palm to his chest. “To get through to you somehow, anyhow.” 

You could feel his warm, unsteady breath on your skin as he scrunched his eyes shut, wanting to be anywhere but here. 

“Why can’t you talk to me? You used to be able to tell me everything.” Your voice cracked as you rubbed your thumb across his cheek pleadingly. 

“I can’t give you what you want. Not right now.” He gently lowered your hand and stared into your eyes apologetically. 

“We haven’t made love in so long.” You murmured hesitantly and he shot you an irksome look. You hated to bring it up but the pain of his rejection was getting too much to bear- you had to let him know how badly you needed him.

“Is that why you’ve been on my case so much lately?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. 

“No, of course not.” You sighed. “Not the only reason, at least.” 

“Sorry, baby. I’ve been too busy dealing with major trauma to factor in your sex drive.” He quipped sarcastically. 

“That’s not fair, Spencer.” You had anticipated such a response but your heart dropped anyway when you heard it. “It’s not just about that and you know it. I just miss my husband- all of him.”

“Things change.” He mumbled. 

“Well, will they ever change back?” You snapped a little. “Tell me right now, can I get my husband back? Matter of fact, do you even want to come back?” 

Your eyes betrayed you with a steady stream of tears pouring down your reddened cheeks. 

“Do you still want me?” Your voice quivered, praying he wouldn’t take this opportunity to shatter you completely. 

“Yes. I do.” He answered simply though there was an air of conflict about him. “I’ve loved being your husband. I just, I- not now. I just can’t. I can’t do it.” 

He shook his head and paced out to the hall, shutting the living room door loudly once he was safely inside. 

Your blood began to boil. All the grace and understanding you’d shown him this year and he couldn’t even finish a conversation without running away like a coward. 

“You bastard. Come back here right now, Reid.” You barked out, running after him. “Or so help me God-.” 

“You’ll do what?” He opened up, lean figure resting against the door frame. ”You gonna kill me, honey?” 

“I just might!” You shrieked frustratedly. “I’m so unbelievably sick of you doing nothing but sulking and feeling sorry for yourself. Enough is enough. Wake up and smell the fucking flowers!” You crossed your arms, exasperated and a small smirk spread across his handsome face. “You’re smiling.” 

“Such good attention to detail. This is exactly why I married you.” He winked and you slapped his arm a little too forcefully. “Yes, I’m smiling. You’re adorable when you’re bratty.”

“If being at my wits end with you means being a brat then yes, I’m the biggest brat in the world!” You started bawling- you knew it was irrational but you were too sensitive and overwhelmed with emotion to let his teasing slide.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, shh.” He pulled you in close, pressing your delicate head against his chest. “Come on, my love. You know I can’t stand seeing you cry.” 

“How come you’ve been letting me do it every night, then?” You whimpered, pitiful words swallowed by the fabric of his white work shirt.

“I didn’t think it was that bad.” He looked down at you, a noxious blend of guilt and sympathy flickering in his tired eyes. “I-I thought you understood.” 

“Understood what?” You let out a muffled murmur as you drew in his heady scent, the musky cologne combined with his sweat soothing your overwrought senses. 

“That even though I’m in a dark place-” He lowered his face until you felt his hot breath against your flushed cheeks. “It doesn’t, for a single second, mean that I don’t love you.” 

“Really?” You gazed up at him lamentably. “It was starting to feel that way, li-like nothing I did was good enough.” 

“I’m sorry.” He almost winced, his regret tangible in how tightly he held you. “It’s not you, you’re perfect. You’ve been patient and understanding and I’ve completely put our marriage on the back burner….there’s no excuse.” He fell back into the sofa, pulling you down into his lap as he gently spoke.

“God it was just the weight of it all- the weight of how long it was taking me to shake it off. The longer it took, the more I felt like a failure and I couldn’t stand coming home to you every night and disappointing you. Seeing the unfalteringly hopeful look on your face and knowing it’d be wiped off after one conversation with me…I started avoiding you.”

“Spence…” You wilted like a flower at his confession.

“But that was selfish, I know that.” He took your face in his hands and professed earnestly. “I can’t apologise enough, my love.” 

“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Your heart leapt as your husband’s familiar warmth flooded you- and while you were grateful to get a glimpse of the old Spencer, you were also confused by the abrupt shift in his demeanour- if not suspicious. 

“Honestly? You getting pissed off flipped a switch in me.” He looked just as puzzled as you at the admission. “All this time you haven’t gotten mad once- even when you’re upset, you’re always sweet. I guess it took you acting out of character to make me see just how badly I’ve been treating you. You brought me to my senses by threatening me.” 

“And I’ll make good on that threat if you keep shutting me out.” You wagged a finger at him and he chuckled, clasping your hand and planting a soft kiss over it. 

“If I ever talk to you like that again, you have my full permission to kill me.” 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You scowled at him playfully and he patted your damp cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, drying the remnants of your tears. 

“I was reading my journal from our college days last night.” He admitted as you soaked up how good it felt to be in his arms again. 

“I knew that dusty old green thing looked familiar!” You bit your lip to contain the smile about to burst through. “Why were you looking through that?” 

“I needed a reminder of what kind of man I vowed to be. To stay true to that little nerd who couldn’t believe his luck when he got to marry you.” He pressed his forehead against yours as he filled your head with words you’d spent the last 6 months dreaming about. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to sleep in our bed again tonight.”

“You mean it, Spence? You really don’t have to if you don’t-“

“No, I really do. You’re my home, baby. And I’ve been away from home for too long.” He pulled you in closer until his lips gently met yours, kissing you so sweetly you thought you might melt. 

“God, I missed you.” You whispered as a shudder ran down your spine, his touch proving to be too much after you’d spent so long deprived. 

“I missed you more. I promise I’ll make it up to you. For all my mistakes.” He cooed but you weren’t even paying attention, all your focus centred on the dizzying way his large palm stroked your back. 

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He whispered, nudging his shoulder against your own. 

“Mhm…” You moaned lazily, allowing him to drag you up and guide you into the comfort of your bedroom, which instantly seemed more welcoming now that you knew he was finally joining you. 

“There, all tucked in.” He beamed after stuffing the edges of the duvet beneath your languid body. “I just need to change and brush my teeth, I’ll be right in.” He kissed your forehead and sauntered over to the adjoining bathroom. 

Before you could surrender to sleep, you pawed clumsily at the nightstand in search of your phone, overcome with the urge to message your mother- you just had to let her know she was wrong. Composing a text to assure her your marriage was no longer in danger, you sent it through with a satisfied sigh. Unexpectedly, the screen lit up not a moment after you’d put it down, accompanied by a quiet chirp that let you know she had sent one back. 

“Don’t let your guard down. Guilt is a powerful thing.” Her ominous words pulsed off the screen and left you feeling queasy. 

“Remember what I said. Look for the signs.” A second text flashed across the screen. 

You dropped the phone with a shaky clatter, as if your hands couldn’t wait to be rid of the thing. How could she remain insistent that Spencer had been cheating when he’d given next to no indication of it? You would’ve chalked it all down to her longstanding aversion to him and fallen into a peaceful slumber- if it wasn’t for the muttering you heard coming from the other side of the bathroom door. 

Like a jumpy cat, you raised yourself against the headboard at once and listened with bated breath. Struggling to make out a complete sentence as the running water smothered his words, you cautiously crept over to the door and ever so slightly pressed your ear against it. 

“I appreciate that but I can’t. We’ll have to reschedule.” Spencer’s muffled voice rang out, sounding slightly stressed. “No, I’m not thinking about leaving. I know I need you. Yes. Everything’s fine, I’m just not free tonight.” 

You let out an exasperated breath, in pure disbelief over what you’d overheard. Before you could gather your thoughts, the tap stopped running and you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, prompting you to leap into bed and swathe yourself amongst the covers. 

“You asleep already, baby?” He whispered when he emerged from the bathroom, pressing his warm, pyjama-clad body flat against yours. You said nothing, remaining as still as a church mouse as he cosily nestled his face into the crook of your neck and dozed off. While your husband enjoyed the best sleep he’d had in the better part of a year, you spent the remainder of the night staring into the expanse of your dark ceiling, paralysed with fear. 

A Saturday morning was usually yours and Spencer’s favourite day of the week; it meant you could sleep in, have breakfast in bed and make love until noon all in glorious succession. This particular Saturday was markedly different- partly because Spencer had been called into work- and partly because you couldn’t go a second without driving yourself crazy thinking about his affair. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Hotch is insisting he needs the whole team together.” Spencer rolled his eyes as he hopped around in a struggle to get his socks on. You sat up in bed and nodded complacently, not wanting to set off any alarm bells to your profiler husband. “Hey babe?” He asked, fiddling with his tie. 

“Hm?” You smiled innocuously. 

“How would you feel if you had to start working again?” He bit his lip and looked at you, full of intrigue. “Would you manage?”

“Umm, I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, caught off guard completely by his question. “Why do you ask?” 

“Didn’t you have dreams? Goals you wanted to accomplish?” He asked sincerely and a thinly veiled panic began to rise in you. 

“Sure, I guess. I didn’t plan on abandoning them but- I don’t know, life got in the way and other things took priority.” 

“Hm. Okay.” He looked absorbed in thought as he grabbed his blazer. “I’ve got to run- how about I meet you for dinner at that new steakhouse in town? We’ve got a lot of things to discuss.” 

“We do?” You gulped. 

“I know I do.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead as you desperately tried to read his body language. “See you later.” 

“Bye, honey.” You choked out as he breezed out the door, leaving you with bile rising up your throat. 

You hated to admit it, but your mother was right. 

“And-and then he told her he needed her!” You blubbed down the phone when you finally plucked up the courage to call her later that day. “And don’t you dare say you told me so!”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” Your mother retorted dishonestly. 

“But that’s not all- before he left this morning, he was asking me how I’d feel if I had to start working again!” You whined, your body racked with so much anxiety it made you nauseous. 

“He’s trying to gauge how you’d cope if you no longer had him to financially rely on.” She sighed knowingly. “He’s trying to subconsciously prepare you. It’s almost thoughtful- in his own strange, dysfunctional way. Typical Spencer.”

“You really think this is it? He’s done with me?” You sniffed, desperately hanging onto the last thread of hope. “This might just all be a big misunderstanding.”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, the late nights, the phone call, the interrogation about your career. And the spontaneous apologetic outburst. It’s clear to see he’s bursting at the seams with guilt.” She tutted, feigning sympathy- but you knew she’d been waiting for Spencer to slip up for years. As much as it might have pained her to see her daughter like this, the satisfaction of knowing Spencer was almost out of her life outweighed the anguish. 

“So now what do I do?” You whinged, the last thread snapped. 

“You’re going to dress up in the tightest outfit you have, drive down to that restaurant and tell him you want a divorce.” She instructed with her signature self-assured candidness. 

“B-but I don’t want a divorce.” You mumbled meekly, acutely aware of how pitiable you sounded. 

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.” 

Her words resounded in your aching brain as you rummaged through your closet looking for an outfit that fit the brief, ultimately settling on a satin black mini dress- Spencer’s favourite. 

Driving to the restaurant rehearsing your parting words was nothing short of excruciating. You adored your husband just as much as you did the day you first met; spotting him in that lecture hall, shiny brown hair slicked back as he twiddled a pen between his spindly fingers and scrunched his eyebrows up in displeasure at the set text. It was like a bolt of lightning struck you- love at first sight. 

How did you get to the point of divorce? Your brain was racked with potential guesses as to where along the line you lost him. Were you not interesting enough? You wanted to get your career back on track but you assumed Spencer would prefer a stay-at-home wife. Is that where you went wrong? Perhaps some woman at work was more engaging, perhaps he had more mutual interests with her than his boring wife. 

Pulling into the parking lot, you braced yourself to head for the entrance and find your soon-to-be ex-husband. Who would get the car in the divorce? He paid for it so you supposed the courts would award it to him. 

“Oh God.” You muttered under your breath, head spinning as you waited inside for a hostess. If you went by that logic, you’d be left with nothing. 

“Do you have a reservation?” The young worker hobbled over breathlessly. 

“Uh- probably, under a Mr Reid.” You twiddled your thumbs as she searched her database.

“Oh, he’s already been seated, just down there.” She pointed in his direction and you saw the back of his head, luscious curls nestling around the base of his neck. You sighed, he was going to be a tough one to get over. 

“Baby, there you are.” He rose from his seat to plant a quick kiss on your cheek and as always, pull out your chair. Where were you going to find someone as gentlemanly as him? “Are you okay?” 

“Sure.” You managed a small smile though you were sure he saw right through it. 

“I’ve already ordered us some wine, they had that white zinfandel you like.” He said, pouring you a glass.

“Trying to get me drunk, Reid?” You swirled the liquid around, inhaling the sweet aroma. 

“From half a bottle?” He chuckled nervously, your mannerisms already causing suspicion. “No, I want you sober for tonight.” 

“That’s unkind.” You muttered unintelligibly, knocking back your glass in one go. 

“Woah, slow down.” He cautioned as you clinked your glass against the bottle, prompting him to hesitantly pour you another. 

“You sure everything’s okay?” 

“Yes, great. What did you need to talk to me about?” You braced yourself for impact. 

“Okay, well, I know it would be a big change but just hear me out. I think in the long run, it’d be better for you if-“

“Actually, no. Everything’s not okay.” You slurred, the alcohol already impairing your senses. 

“Oh? What’s the matter?” He asked anxiously, fidgeting with his wedding band. 

“I want a divorce.” You blurted out tastelessly.

“You- what?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he blinked rapidly. “A divorce?”

“You heard me.” You gulped, trying your hardest to be stern even though you were about to fall apart. “You’ve run out of chances with me.” 

“Baby, what? I-I know it’s been rocky but I thought we talked it through? You seemed just fine last night, I don’t understand.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised so high a painful-looking row of wrinkles stacked up on his forehead. 

“I thought we were fine too, but I was wrong.” You took another glug of liquid courage as you avoided eye contact, knowing you would cave if you took even one glance at his big, round eyes. 

“I know I don’t have much room to complain after what I’ve put you through but can’t we at least talk about it first?” He pleaded, heart jumping out of his chest. 

“What is there to talk about, Spencer? You couldn’t come to me so you closed yourself off and found comfort in another woman- God knows how long this has been going on while I’ve been here pining after you like an idiot-“

“What?” He raised his hand, signalling you to pause your rambling.

“Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been cheating on me.” You scoffed, determined not to fall victim to his gaslighting. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” His mournful expression was replaced by one of bewilderment. 

“I heard you last night on the phone to her. Who is she?” You cocked your head, a little smug over the fact that you’d caught him- what kind of a genius calls his mistress while his wife’s next door? 

To your surprise, Spencer broke out into a laugh, taking his head into his hands as he shook it in relief. “You got me, baby. You caught me.” He smiled dazedly. 

“I did, so I don’t know why you’re smiling.” You scowled.

“You caught me talking to my therapist.” He shot you an unimpressed glare. “I started seeing her 2 weeks ago and I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t want you getting your hopes up. But Jesus, baby. Divorce? That’s where you landed?” 

“It’s not just that!” You jumped to your own defence. “How do you explain all the late nights at work- and that conversation we had this morning about my career?”

“That’s what I was going to talk to you about today. I got you a job.” He stated. 

“Huh? Why?” You gawked, hesitant to believe anything he said. 

He took a deep breath, shuffling his chair a little closer and taking your hand. 

“Look, baby, I know you try your hardest to be a great wife. Too hard, if anything, and you’ve always been exceptional and far too good for me. As much as I love your dedication, you need to think about your own needs and prioritise those for a change. It’s no secret that you’ve been feeling unfulfilled for a while now, I can see it from a mile away. I should’ve addressed it sooner but, well, you know.”

“Spence?” You shook your head in uncertainty, wondering how you could’ve been so wrong.

“I should’ve never let you give your career up. I should’ve pushed you harder but I just loved having you at home all the time, it’s selfish, I know. My job is stressful but it gives me a sense of purpose, one I know you crave.” He explained, trying not to giggle at your awestruck face and your inability to form a single sentence. “What I’m saying is, I want to see you reignite that old passion you had. How would you feel about joining me in the BAU?” 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for his admission and tears of shock and immense relief began coursing down your face. “Spencer, I can’t believe this.”

“In hindsight, I should’ve talked to you about it first but I thought it might be a nice surprise- I’m an idiot, you don’t have to take it, of course, if you don’t want to.” He backtracked, suddenly aware of how flawed his plan was. 

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a very long time.” You uttered softly. 

“R-really? You want to do it?” He raised his eyebrows in that adorably curious way of his. 

“I don’t know how you managed to figure out I wanted a job before I did, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I want to do it.” You nodded, too consumed with excitement to mull over your embarrassingly wrong assumptions.

“Now, it’s only a low-level position for the time being, just to ease you into the transition but you have the potential to-“

“I’ll be with you.” You smiled simply.

“Yes, for the most part. I thought it’d be a good way to spend more time together- not including the times when I’d have to fly out and can’t take you with me yet, although-“

“Spencer.” You interrupted him. “Thank you.” 

“Well, of course. Anything for you.” He squeezed your hands and you felt the anxiety throb away. “Can’t believe you thought I was cheating.”

“You gave me some major indicators!” You scrunched your face up awkwardly. “And my mother pointed out that-“

“Ah, there we go.” He sighed, unimpressed. “That woman has had it out for me for the better part of a decade.” 

“Sorry, baby, you know she has a talent for burrowing inside my head.” You confessed shyly, aware you should’ve known better. 

“I’m going to talk to her.” Spencer declared.

“Huh?” 

“First thing tomorrow, we’re going to her house and I’m throwing it all out there. After a decade of pent-up resentment, it’s time.” 

Spencer usually avoided your mother at all costs, electing to work overtime on weekends when she decided to visit and often coming down with mysterious ailments during the holidays that prevented him from attending her get-togethers.

“Can’t wait to see how that turns out.” You chuckled gleefully. “And therapy, baby? Wow. I’m so proud of you.” 

“I was sceptical at first but I think it’s helping- I’m learning to compartmentalise the issues and most importantly, not take them out on you.” He stared into your eyes and your breath hitched; even after so many years, he had a way of making you feel impossibly shy. 

“You sound like a new man, Mr Reid.” You teased, the wine floating around your bloodstream in a way that made you deliciously fuzzy.

“It’s all because of you, Mrs Reid.” A smirk tugged at his lips. 

“So we’re really okay?” You asked in disbelief, immeasurably relieved that the rollercoaster seemed to be at an end. “What now?”

“I’ll tell you.” He drawled in a softly seductive tone. “We’re going to order dinner and dessert, I’m going to get you a little too drunk.” He dropped his hand to your thigh, trailing up it as he spoke. “And then I’m going to take you home and fuck you.” 

“Oh.” You squeaked, breaking into tingles at the prospect. 

“That sound good, doll?” He kneaded your inner thigh and you felt your body go numb as words failed you. “I thought so.”

Seeing that the bottle on your table was glisteningly empty, Spencer beckoned over a waiter.

“Give me your most expensive wine.” He smirked while ordering. “We’re celebrating.”

Although he was a law-abiding federal agent, Spencer ran more than a few red lights that evening given the ravenous way his wife stared at him from the passenger seat, crawling out of her skin with the desire to touch him. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, you were both in a desperate rush to get inside. You clawed at Spencer’s shirt while he shakily tried to unlock the door, trembling with anticipation. 

“H-hang on, baby.” The sound of clinking keys mixed with his groans. “God…”

You left messy, wet kisses all down his neck as he finally pushed the door open, taking you into his arms and guiding you indoors. 

“Right- mm, here.” You whined between kisses, gesturing at the sofa as you kicked your heels off. 

“My desperate girl, can’t even wait long enough to get to the bedroom.” He teased as he pushed you down onto the couch, hooking onto the waistband of your tights with his bony fingers and slowly dragging them down your legs- leaving small kisses down your thighs and calves in the process. 

You let out impatient whimpers as he folded your dress up over itself and dragged down your panties.

“Were these your ‘I’m a strong woman’ divorce panties?” He chuckled as he yanked the tiny lace garment off your feet and threw it behind him. 

“I needed as much confidence as I could muster.” You pulled him closer by the tie for a heated kiss. “I was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“You could never lose me.” He stared into your eyes with a dizzying intensity that made all the blood rush to your heat. “You’re my wife…” He drawled huskily as he ripped the front panel of your dress open. “Until the day I die.” Looping his fingers around it, he tore the material further with a loud tug, leaving your bare tits bouncing out of the tight fabric. “You jump to conclusions like it’s a full-time job.” He pressed his lips against your hot skin. “But I love you.” You wanted to laugh but a moan escaped your lips instead when he wrapped his tongue around one nipple, grasping the other with a rough hand. “And my God, do you have the best tits I’ve ever seen.” 

You raked your fingers through his thick, messy hair as you squirmed beneath him, sure that if he made you wait any longer you’d start crying. 

“Patience, baby. You’ll get it.” He whispered, dragging his lips down your body and leaving goosebumps in his wake. He left sloppy, open-mouth kisses along your thighs, so near your heat you could feel his warm breath fanning it. 

“P-please, Spence, please.” You muttered, bucking your hips to close the distance between you.

“You know I always give my girl what she wants.” He breathed heavily, snaking his arms around your shaky hips and tugging you closer to drag his tongue across your clit. You melted into the sofa as he sucked on your most sensitive spot, locking you into an unescapable vice with his strong arms. 

“Mmh…” You threw your head back, still squirming as he ate you with such passion and hunger that you committed every godless detail to memory. His hair became increasingly dishevelled as you twisted it into messy knots, fidgeting with the curls as he licked broad stripes up your clit with fanatical force. 

“Fuck, fuck…” You grew delirious as he sped up, legs trembling from how good he was making you feel; you desperately pressed yourself further against his mouth, wanting to be devoured until there was nothing left. 

“Can-can I, please, can you- oh God.” You rambled nonsensically as he showed no sign of slowing down, worshipping you with his tongue until you felt like blacking out. He groaned in approval as he flitted across your wet slit aggressively, knowing it pushed you over the brink every time. It had been months since he’d had you wrapped around his neck like this, panting in that slutty way that drove him wild- and as much as he wanted to savour it, he couldn’t wait much longer to have you. As you pushed his head down, he sucked so sloppily that the sounds emanating were nothing short of pornographic.

“Spencer!” You moaned out sinfully while you came, gripping his shoulders with your thighs as you dissolved into a mushy, whiney mess. Your hips twitched as he pulled away from you, wiping the drool from his mouth with the sleeve of his collared shirt. 

“No need to yell, I’m right here.” He grinned, deriving great pleasure from seeing you fall apart. 

“Oh God, I’ve forgotten how good you are that.” You winced, trembling from the force of your release. 

“I’ll make sure you never forget again.” He smirked into the kiss as he pressed his lips against yours, barely giving you any time to come to as he ripped off the remnants of your dress. “Sorry about that, doll- I’ll buy you a new one.” 

“It was my divorce dress, I never would’ve worn it again.” You giggled as you helped him out of his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers, desperate to feel him inside you. Your back arched instinctively as soon as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit; your head rolled back as you felt him slide in teasingly slow, letting you feel every last inch as he spread you apart and scattered sensual kisses down your neck. An obscene moan left your lips when he buried himself as deep inside you as he could. 

“Spence, fuck, I don’t know if- ah.” You struggled to get the words out as he stared down at you with amusement. “Too big, I-“

“A few months without my dick and you’ve forgotten how to take it?” He jeers, a twisted smile radiating from him. “That’s no good at all, baby. We’re gonna have to teach you all over again.” 

You bit your lip to conceal the whimper that threatened to spill as you nodded obediently, hanging off his every word. 

“Breathe.” He pulled out by just an inch or two, ensuring you would barely notice before slowly pushing his hips forward and plunging himself to the hilt. 

His hair dangled over his forehead, the unruly locks almost tickling you as he hovered above you, waiting for you to adjust to his thick length. 

“Mm…” You peeped, looking at him coyly like butter wouldn’t melt. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours before you nodded. With the thousands of times you’d made love, he knew the meaning of every subtle cue and whimper; he knew you were often too shy to speak so he let you get away with using your varying whines as a form of communication. His dirty talk overwhelmed you, leaving you flustered and speechless- and he knew just how much you loved it.  

Spencer pulled out half his length this time, grabbing you by the jaw to hold you lovingly as he thrusted in and out, making sure to look you in the eyes as his swollen cock massaged your walls. Ever the shy one, you tried averting eye contact and looking away from his intense glare but he gently guided you back with a firm hand. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he made love to you, your twisted eyebrows and parted lips too sweet to ignore.  

You cried out when his thrusts grew rougher, panting heavily as he fucked you even harder than you remembered. 

“You can take it, baby.” He cooed as he fucked you deep and slow. “I know you can.” He pulled out almost all the way before plunging his cock back in, coated in glistening arousal. “Deep breaths for me, doll.” He breathed with you, setting a tempo as you struggled to get anything but your whorish moans out.

“You like it when I stretch this little pussy out?” He groaned, wet flesh and skin smacking against hip bone. “Yeah you do.” He smirked as your cheeks flushed red at his lewd words. “How were you going to go through with a divorce? You can’t even tell me you like the way I fuck you.” 

“Spencer!” You gasped, partly at his vulgarity and partly at the way his tip just brushed against your deepest spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“What, baby?” His hands trailed their way down to your hips as he sat up, gripping the handles of your body tightly as he fucked you onto himself. “We both know you could never find someone who fucks you this good again. Who pounds into your cunt exactly the way you need it.” Your jaw dropped at his crude words- he’d always had a penchant for making you flustered but it was clear that prison had made him even rougher around the edges. As much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you couldn’t deny the truth to what he’d said; there was no upgrading after Spencer.

“You’re cockier than I remember.” You manage to breathe out, glassy eyes watering with overstimulation. 

“And you’re tighter than I remember.” He smirked maniacally as he started rubbing rough circles into your clit, not slowing down the way he was sorely pummelling into you. “Goddamn, angel, you take me so well.” He muttered under his breath as he observed the mouthwatering way in which your pussy swallowed his entire length, gushing with arousal as the wet smacking intensified. 

He swooped down to kiss you, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth as he pushed your knees against your chest. “You feel that?” He shuddered, guiding your hand to your stomach where his member was poking through the flesh, leaving an imprint.

“Uh huh.” You panted.

“You like having my cock this deep in your guts?” In an unexpected move, he pressed down on your lower stomach as you nodded to his question desperately. You screamed in blinding ecstasy as you reached your peak, the borderline cruel way in which Spencer continued pounding against your sweet spot proving too much to take. 

“Look at that, I got my answer.” He licked his lips at the sight of his cock glazed in creamy arousal as he pulled out with a groan. You lay motionless on the cushy sofa, limbs numb as you noticed the scowl Spencer was sporting on his chiselled face, small beads of sweat running down his temples. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled darkly. 

“Resting?” You upturned your eyebrows sweetly. 

Before you could protest, he dragged you down the sofa and turned you over, positioning you to arch your back and expose your throbbing pussy to him. 

“You think I’m going to let you get away with one round?” He spanked your ass with a firm, open palm. “I know you’ve been whining about this all the time to your friends. I know how desperate you’ve been for your husband to fuck you. Well, honey- I’ll give you something to talk about.” Before you could respond, he guided his veiny cock into your squishy walls, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch as he pounded into you from the back. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He demanded as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up, holding your back flush against his body. “You wanted to be fucked like a whore? Answer me.” 

“Yes! Yes, Spence, I want it so bad, treat me like a slut.” You surprised yourself with your sinful words, the rough treatment prompting you to act out of character. He pushed you back onto the bed, holding you down as he drilled into you with dizzying speed. The couch squeaked with the force of your face getting pressed into the pillows as you panted so breathily you thought your heart might give out. You bit into the cushions as drool seeped freely from your mouth and wet the dark grey fabric. 

“Harder…” You murmured, barely audible.

“What was that?” Spencer asked in disbelief, slowing down a little to make your words out clearly. 

“Harder. I want you to fuck me to within an inch of my life.” You confessed sultrily and a dangerous smirk crept across your husband’s face. 

“Anything for you.” He was more than happy to comply with your request.

You spent all night tangled up in each other’s bodies, taking turns being mind numbingly rough and tooth achingly sweet. He whispered confessions of love in your ear one minute and he pinned you down hard enough to leave bruises the next. It was, without a doubt, the best night of your life.

Waking up the next day in Spencer’s arms gave you more euphoria than any drug ever could. He smelled of last night’s wine and sweat, intermingled with the floral detergent of your freshly washed sheets. 

“Good morning, baby.” He cooed when he saw your eyes flutter open. “Or rather, good afternoon. How’d you sleep?” 

“Never better.” Your husky voice replied. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while.” 

“I guess I’ll have to carry you to your mother’s, then.” He chuckled, pulling you in closer so that your head rested on his smooth, bare chest. 

“What? You’re not still serious about doing that.” You looked up at him pleadingly. 

“Oh, yes I am.” He scolded playfully. “She convinced you I was having an affair and encouraged you to get a divorce. I’d say there’s a conversation to be had there.”

“You know, I really wish you weren’t so respectable sometimes.” You dreaded the prospect of such a confrontation. 

“There was nothing respectable about the way I was splitting you open last night.” He countered mischeviously and you rolled your eyes to distract from the blush creeping over your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll buy us breakfast on the way. Get dressed.” 

“But Spence!” You tried to argue but he had already climbed out of bed, humming showtunes on his way to the bathroom. With a hefty sigh, you swung your legs round the side of the bed and started searching for your underwear. 

“Are you sure? It’s not too late to turn around.” You twiddled your thumbs standing outside your mother’s house, her near-black wooden door looming over you as you waited for her to answer. 

“Yes. Stop being a wimp.” Spencer replied just before the door swung open.

“Oh. Hi darling.” She eyed you up before slowly turning her head. “Hello Spencer.” 

“There’s my favourite mother-in-law. We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast.” He lifted the brown paper bag containing drive through diner food. 

“As if I’d eat that.” She raised her eyebrows contemptously. 

“Come on, mom, are you gonna let us in or not?” You piped up after seeing she had no intentions of making things easy for Spencer. 

“Yes, fine, in you come.” She opened the door wide and stepped aside, letting you both enter her lavish home. 

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” He commented a little snarkily, noticing the extensive remodeling work that had been done.

“Oh yes, we did it last spring. I suppose you haven’t been round for years so you wouldn’t know. Are you avoiding me, Spencer?” She took a seat across from you both in the living room. 

“Me? Never. Just like you’d never convince my wife to get a divorce, right?” He quipped and your stomach twisted over how little it took them to start arguing- you’d only just walked in through the door. 

“I’ve only ever advocated for what’s best for her.” She stuck her nose up at her son-in-law. 

“And why are you so certain that’s not me?” He snapped, genuine curiousity tinging his voice. 

“You’re not good enough.” She replied with a resoluteness that must’ve hurt. 

“Why, mom? What’s so bad about Spence?” You asked. 

“He’s just not who you were supposed to end up with. You were not meant to give up your life to be a housewife to a mediocre man.” She answered simply, like she didn’t even have to think about it. 

“So you resent him because of my career choices?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little as she shrugged. “Mother, I chose to leave the field. He had nothing to do with it, he supported me-“

“Oh, I bet he did. Having a woman at home to cook and clean must’ve been too tempting of an offer to pass up.” She scratched at her right arm- a leftover habit from the nicotine patches she used years ago. She claimed she quit smoking but you suspected she’d be in dire need of a cigarette after this conversation. 

“That’s ridiculous-“

“She’s right.” Spencer interrupted you. “I was more than happy to have you at home. I preferred it, really. And I didn’t say a word even though I knew you were making a mistake, even though I knew it wouldn’t make you happy.” 

“See. The pipe cleaner admits it.” She scoffed and you shot her a venomous glare. “Not to mention what you’ve put her through this year.” 

“I know I haven’t by any means been a good husband, but I wouldn’t cheat and I’d never want a divorce. I’m trying to make things right.” He confessed earnestly. 

“How?” She scowled, clearly believing him to be beyond redemption. 

“He got me a job at the BAU.” You chimed in, wanting to see the smugness wiped off her face. 

“And I’m seeing a therapist.” Spencer continued. “I’m determined to be better.” 

She sat there in silence, incapable as always of expressing any remorse. 

“I love your daughter and I’m not going anywhere. I’d like it very much if we could somehow start over.” He shot her those puppy dog eyes of his and you sincerely believed if she didn’t give in, she must be the only woman in the world immune to his charms. 

“Alright. Alright, Spencer.” She sighed after a short contemplation. “If my little girl is happy, I suppose I have no choice.” 

“The bastard actually managed it.” You thought as you witnessed his beaming smile flood the room with light, his vibrancy so infectious you knew even your mother noticed. 

“Glad to hear it, mom.” He joked and she choked on the water she had begun to sip.

“Don’t push it.”

“Told you it’d all work out.” He said excitedly while he opened the car door for you, practically skipping out of your mother’s house. 

“I know, and she actually invited you round?!” You shook your head in disbelief as he started the engine and drove away from her gated residence. 

“Maybe we’ll make these trips a weekly habit.” He suggested, resting his hand soundly on your thigh. 

“Not every week. I need some alone with my handsome husband.” You gushed, admiring his perfect side profile. 

“You must have me confused with someone else, lady.” He chuckled as he switched on the radio. “Oh my God, baby! This song!” 

“No way, I haven’t heard this since, since-“

“That time in college.” He winked at you and you threw your head back in laughter, precious memories flooding your mind as the familiar pop tune hummed on. 

“Yeah. That was the first and last time we ever do it on a carnival pedal boat.” 

“Hey, never say never- I see a lake right over there.” He pointed out the window as you drove by.

“I don’t think so, buddy.” You slapped his arm playfully. “Those days are behind us, we’re old and boring now.”

“If this is boredom, sign me up for eternity.” A warm smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“God, I love you, Spencer Reid.” 

“I love you even more, Mrs Reid.”

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #matthew gray gubler

[just-ornstein]

[JK]  My first job was as an Assistant Producer for a video game company called Interplay in Irvine, CA. I had recently graduated from Boston University's School of Fine Arts with an MFA in Directing (I started out as a theatre nerd), but also had some limited coding experience and a passion for computers. It didn't look like I'd be able to make a living directing plays, so I decided to combine entertainment and technology (before it was cool!) and pitched myself to Brian Fargo, Interplay's CEO. He gave me my first break. I packed up and moved out west, and I've been producing games ever since.

[JK] I loved my time at EA. I was there for almost a full decade, and learned a tremendous amount about game-making, and met the most talented and driven people, who I remain in touch with today. EA gave me many opportunities, and never stopped betting on me. I worked on The Sims for nearly 5 years, and then afterwards, I worked on console action games as part of the Visceral studio. I was the Creative Director for the 2007 game "The Simpsons", and was the Executive Producer and Creative Director for the 2009 game "Dante's Inferno".

[JK] I haven't played in a long while, but I do recall that after the game shipped, my wife and I played the retail version for some time -- we created ourselves, and experimented with having a baby ahead of the actual birth of our son (in 2007). Even though I'd been part of the development team, and understood deeply how the simulation worked, I was still continually surprised at how "real" our Sims felt, and how accurate their responses were to having a baby in the house. It really felt like "us"!

Now for some of the development and lore related questions:

[JK] So I ended up in the incredibly fortunate position of creating the shipping neighborhoods for The Sims 2, and recruiting a few teammates to help me as we went along. 

Around the same time, we started using the Buy/Build tools to make houses we could save, and also bring them into each new build of the game (correcting for any bugs and incompatibilities). With the import tool, we could load Sims into these houses. In time, this "vanguard QA" process turned into a creative endeavor to define the "saved state" of the neighborhoods we would actually end up shipping with the game.

On playtesting & the leftover sims data on various lots:

Basically, we were in the late stages of development, and the Save Game functionality wasn't quite working. In order to test the game properly, you really needed to have a lot of assets, and a lot of Sims with histories (as if you'd been playing them for weeks) to test out everything the game had to offer. So I started defining a set of characters in a spreadsheet, with all their tuning variables, and worked with engineering to create an importer, so that with each new build, I could essentially "load" a kind of massive saved game, and quickly start playing and testing. 

It was fairly organic, and as the game's functionality improved, so did our starter houses and families. 

The thought process behind the creation of the iconic three neighborhoods:

I would not say it was particularly planned out ahead of time. We knew we needed a few saved houses to ship with the game; Sims 1, after all, had the Goth house, and Bob Newbie's house. But there wasn't necessarily a clear direction for what the neighborhood would be for Sims 2. We needed the game to be far enough along, so that the neighborhood could be a proper showcase for all the features in the game. With each new feature that turned alpha, I had a new tool in my toolbox, and I could expand the houses and families I was working on. Once we had the multi-neighborhood functionality, I decided we would not just have 1 starter neighborhood, but 3. With the Aging feature, Memories, a few wacky objects, plus a huge catalog of architectural and decorative content, I felt we had enough material for 3 truly distinct neighborhoods. And we added a couple of people to what became the "Neighborhood Team" around that time.

Later, when we created Strangetown, and eventually Veronaville, I believe we went back and changed Pleasantville to Pleasantview... because I liked the alliteration of "Verona-Ville", and there was no sense in having two "villes". (To this day, by the way, I still don't know whether to capitalize the "V" -- this was hotly debated at the time!)

Pleasantview:

Anyway, to answer your question, we of course started with Pleasantview. As I recall, we were not quite committed to multiple neighborhoods at first, and I think it was called Pleasantville initially, which was kind of a nod to Simsville... but without calling it Simsville, which was a little too on the nose. (There had also been an ill-fated game in development at Maxis at the time, called SimsVille, which was cancelled.) It's been suggested that Pleasantville referred to the movie, but I don't think I ever saw that movie, and we just felt that Pleasantville kind of captured the feeling of the game, and the relaxing, simple, idyllic world of the Sims.

Pleasantview started as a place to capture the aging feature, which was all new to The Sims 2. We knew we had toddlers, teens, and elders to play with, so we started making families that reflected the various stages of family life: the single mom with 3 young kids, the parents with two teens, the old rich guy with two young gold-diggers, etc. We also had a much greater variety of ethnicity to play with than Sims 1, and we had all new variables like sexual orientation and memories. All these things made for rich fodder for a great diversity of families. Then, once we had family trees, and tombstones that carried the actual data for the dead Sims, the doors really blew open. We started asking ourselves, "What if Bella and Mortimer Goth could be characters in Sims 2, but aged 25 years? And what if Cassandra is grown up? And what if Bella is actually missing, and that could be a fun mystery hanging over the whole game?" And then finally the "Big Life Moments" went into the game -- like weddings and birthdays -- and we could sort of tee these up in the Save Game, so that they would happen within the first few minutes of playing the families. This served both as a tutorial for the features, but also a great story-telling device.

Anyway, it all just flowed from there, as we started creating connections between families, relationships, histories, family trees, and stories that we could weave into the game, using only the simulation features that were available to us. It was a really fun and creative time, and we wrote all of the lore of Sims 2 within a couple of months, and then just brought it to life in the game.

Strangetown:

Strangetown was kind of a no-brainer. We needed an alternate neighborhood for all the paranormal stuff the Sims was known for: alien abduction, male pregnancy, science experiments, ghosts, etc. We had the desert terrain, which created a nice contrast to the lush Pleasantville, and gave it an obvious Area 51 vibe.

The fact that Veronaville is the oldest file probably reflects the fact that it was finished first, not that it was started first. That's my guess anyway. It was the simplest neighborhood, in many ways, and didn't have as much complexity in terms of features like staged big life moments, getting the abduction timing right, the alien DNA thing (which I think was somewhat buggy up until the end), etc.  So it's possible that we simply had Veronaville "in the can", while we put the last polish on Pleasantville (which was the first and most important neighborhood, in terms of making a good impression) and Strangeville (which was tricky technically).

Veronaville:

But my personal favorite was Veronaville. We had this cool Tudor style collection in the Build mode catalog, and I wanted to ship some houses that showed off those assets. We also had the teen thing going on in the aging game, plus a lot of romance features, as well as enemies. I have always been a Shakespeare buff since graduate school, so putting all that together, I got the idea that our third neighborhood should be a modern-day telling of the Romeo and Juliet story. It was Montys and Capps (instead of Montagues and Capulets), and it just kind of wrote itself. We had fun creating the past family trees, where everyone had died young because they kept killing each other off in the ongoing vendetta.

[JK] You know, I have never seen The Lone Gunmen, and I don't remember making any kind of direct references with the Strangetown Sims, other than the general Area 51 theme, as you point out. Charles London helped out a lot with naming Sims, and I'm pretty sure we owe "Vidcund" and "Lazlo" to him ... though many team members pitched in creatively. He may have had something in mind, but for me, I largely went off of very generic and stereotypical ideas when crafting these neighborhoods. I kind of wanted them to be almost "groaners" ... they were meant to be tropes in every sense of the word. And then we snuck in some easter eggs. But largely, we were trying to create a completely original lore.

[JK] Well, I think we kind of pushed it with The Sims 2, to be honest, and I remember getting a little blow-back about Bunny Broke, for example. Bunny Broke was the original name for Brandi Broke. Not everyone found that funny, as I recall, and I can understand that. It must have been changed before we shipped.

We also almost shipped the first outwardly gay Sims in those neighborhoods, which was bold for EA back in 2004. My recollection was that we had set up the Dreamers to be gay (Dirk and Darren), but I'm looking back now and see that's not the case. So I'm either remembering incorrectly (probably) or something changed during development.

In general we just did things that we found funny and clever, and we just pulled from all the tropes of American life.

[JK] The alien abduction started in Sims 1, with a telescope object that was introduced in the "Livin' Large" expansion pack. That's when some of the wackier ideas got introduced into the Sims lore. That pack shipped just before I joined Maxis in 2001; when I got there, the team had shipped "House Party" and was underway on "Hot Date". So I couldn't tell you how the original idea came about, but The Sims had this 50's Americana vibe from the beginning, and UFOs kind of played right into that. So the alien abduction telescope was a no-brainer to bring back in Sims 2. The male pregnancy was a new twist on the Sims 1 telescope thing. It must have been that the new version (Sims 2) gave us the tech and flexibility to have male Sims become pregnant, so while this was turned "off" for the core game, we decided to take advantage of this and make a storyline out of it. I think this really grew out of the fact that we had aliens, and alien DNA, and so it was not complicated to pre-bake a baby that would come out as an alien when born. The idea of a bunch of guys living together, and then one gets abducted, impregnated, and then gives birth to an alien baby ... I mean, I think we just all thought that was hilarious, in a sit-com kind of way. Not sure there was much more to it than that. Everything usually came from the designers discovering ways to tweak and play with the tech, to get to funny outcomes.

[JK] Possibly we were just testing the functionality of the Wants/Fears and Memories systems throughout development, and some stuff got left over.

[JK] I can't remember, but that sounds like something we would have done! I'm pretty sure we laid the groundwork for more stories that we ended up delivering :) But The Sims 2 was a great foundation for a lot of continued lore that followed.

--

I once again want to thank Jonathan Knight for granting me this opportunity and taking the time from his busy schedule to answer my questions.

#BURNING LORE QUESTIONS FINALLY ANSWERED!! :D #the sims 2 #ts2 #sims 2 #ea games #ea #electronic arts #sims #the sims #strangetown #veronaville #pleasantview #jonathan knight interview #the sims 2 development #sims 2 development #sims 2 beta #I'm so glad I got this opportunity man.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。so this is what it means to be in love | gojo satoru

wc: 8.9k

summary: gojo finds out what it really means to be in love. 

contains: f!reader in mind, friends to lovers (prev. slowburn), suggestive scenes, might be mature/mildly explicit? (i only mention ‘butt’ once though…), ‘being in love’ as a journey, almost like a falls in love first (you) vs. falls in love harder (gojo), they fight, they swear, character death/s mentioned, shibuya onwards spoilers, lots and lots and lots of love

a/n: this is better read after the other parts in the collection but can work as a stand alone too!, there’s a jump between this and tell me about love (show me how) so gojo would have developed a lot in the relationship since then! 

collection masterlist: conversations on love  +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave <- you are here + (extended scene) too good to be mine -> 3.5a. this feeling inside of me—

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!)

Gojo catches onto love slowly.

He takes the hand you leave open just for him, and closes the space between your palms, reducing infinity. 

Maybe he’s felt it all this time without knowing; after all, love looks a lot less profound as friends in your early 20’s. 

But being in it—being in love? That’s uncharted territory. 

Gojo’s been to a lot of places, has travelled back and forth from point-to-point endlessly. He’s survived battles, a war, near-death, and cursed spirits reincarnate; he’s got eyes—two bright blue and an extra four hidden, ones that see beyond human comprehension. Unearthing this simple truth shouldn’t shake him, shouldn’t even faze him. If anything, he should have seen it coming—

Except, he doesn’t. 

It sneaks up on him, bit by bit, until he finds that being in love means getting to experience you all over again, just differently.

.

.

.

It starts with the little things. 

Gojo has known you for so long (a decade and a few years more), but has only recently begun to notice everything: how your baby hairs stick out in the humidity of summer, the way you purse your lips in thought before finally deciding on a drink to order. You play with your fingernails subconsciously, out of habit, the soft taps on your nail beds an accompaniment of anxious conversations you’ve had since you were 23. 

He knows you always blink twice before focusing on him, and it’s a mystery whether this is a recent development or something he’s just never noticed, but if you’re trying to enchant him by the flutter of your eyelashes, he wants to let you know that it’s working—except, he knows that you aren’t, because you’re just like that: a daydream without even trying. 

These aren’t new things; he’s sure he’s probably encountered them all before, but lately they’ve evolved into cute things, and there’s no hiding the slight curve of his lips every time he spots them. 

.

The sun is beaming brighter this summer, the ocean a faraway blur from the beach towel you set up under the shade. Going to the beach is never your go-to when you think of an extremely hot afternoon, but Yuuji’s been eyeing a weekend getaway since sorcerer work’s lessened significantly. 

‘It’s a good effort,’ Gojo convinces you, ‘to get everyone together again.’

And it is—you see it now: Yuuji and Megumi preparing to fling Yuuta into the water while Nobara and Maki race along the shoreline. Toge stays close to Panda but he watches fondly, eyes crinkling every now and then, happy. 

When you blink, the image of them softens—a captured memory in the heat haze. 

The only older ones here are you and Gojo; Shoko’s always disliked the stickiness of sunblock on her skin, and Ijichi’s new position has made him constantly busy. Somewhere in the distance, you can maybe envision Nanami. He wouldn’t come if you or Gojo asked, but if it were Yuuji—

You rub at your eye, resting your chin on your hand as you will your tear ducts to please, don’t cry. 

Yuuji's been smiling a lot more lately, an observation you note from the way his ears are perked up every time you look his way. It’ll never be the same as it used to be but it’s relieving to know that he can exist living as himself now. Just Yuuji. 

You hug your knees tighter to your chest, wrapping your arms around it. Your place under the coconut tree provides ample enough shade but your back still burns from Gojo haphazardly slathering sunscreen on it after hearing an ice cream stand from miles away. 

The mind is a weird place to be at times like this—split into bittersweet reminiscing and telling yourself to just take this moment and breathe, to live in it. You think about Megumi, and how you hurt for him, always will, for all that he’s lost despite every attempt to avoid it.

You should have been there for Tsumiki, you could have been there for both of them. 

Your guilt never leaves you even on days that shine as vividly as this, but perhaps that’s the silver lining—that they’re still with you, always. You can carry pieces of them to these places, and scatter them to the wind, to the sand, to the sea, and maybe to the ice cream stand Gojo’s waiting in line of, surrounded entirely by kids. They all rise to half his size, but if you squint, you think the bounce in his step makes him blend right in. 

A chuckle escapes you. 

You could sort through your memories and land on one where he looks just like this—freakishly large limbs towering over a tiny, excited Tsumiki. Back then, an ice cream stop after school consisted of your pseudo-family of four, with Megumi on your hand and Tsumiki on his leg, both gripping tightly to combat a chilly 10°C.

Things are different now, evidently. Megumi’s outgrown it, and Tsumiki is no longer here. But Gojo has stayed the same, and it’s comforting to know that he will continue to be this Satoru, your Satoru, even when some things are gone. 

You don’t realize you’ve spaced out until he waves the ice cream cone while walking towards you.  

Gojo is a sight in trunks the color of his eyes, with seahorses and starfishes in an alternating pattern of peachy-pink against cerulean blue. 

You could have sworn you asked for your own cone, but he plops down beside you holding only one. For the both of you. The side-eye you give him is almost criminal, if not deadly, but your lips twitch from the smile you’re hiding (terribly). 

He raises an eyebrow and you break character, shaking your head while laughing. 

“Did you eat the other one on the way here?” you tease, craning your neck to lick at the bottom scoop (vanilla-strawberry-vanilla, Gojo’s signature order). 

Your tongue lands dangerously close to his fingers, and he feels it, but his eyes only land on you—your lips, how they part for your tongue to glide smoothly on his–both of your–dessert. You look every bit of an angel in the soft, pale hues of your bikini, but Gojo’s thoughts are anything but saintly. 

He blushes furiously, the tips of his ears and nose bright red as he turns away from you quickly. 

“I’m fulfilling your dream of sharing an ice cream cone with me.” he tilts his chin up, proud, smirking slightly. He jokes about it knowing full well that this is his dream come true, just by the look of you. 

You stay quiet, rolling your eyes but never meanly, no. You only ever do it fondly—he knows, being on the receiving end of it one too many times. 

The beach towel scrunches when you scoot closer, looping your arm around his as you both rest your elbows on your knees. Gojo holds the cone between you two, tipping it towards you when it’s your turn to lick. 

He shouldn’t stare, shouldn’t hyperfixate, but it’s so cute how you get the tiniest bit of ice cream on the tip of your nose—as if it belongs there, soft and sweet just like the rest of you. 

You look up to find Gojo gazing at you, eyes glimmering like sunlight on the ocean, and a tiny smile that only widens when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, scrunching your nose in an effort to stop yourself from grinning. 

When Gojo looks at you this way, as if you are his favorite place rediscovered, your heart thumps furiously against your ribcage. 

“What…” you drawl, your smile impossible to hide in the lilt of your voice. 

Gojo thinks he can count every eyelash, every speck of sand dotting your face, and stil not be bored of you. He can’t stop beaming. 

Is this what it means to be in love with you? 

“Nothing.” he replies, almost giggling, a little bashful but with every inch of sincerity. You know that smile, the only one that holds every ounce of Satoru. Gojo smiles big and wide to everyone else, but this small one you know, is reserved just for you. 

He leans in, lips coming closer to brush against the tip of your nose. Your eyes fall shut, instinctively, and the pink dot is wiped clean, a hint of strawberry dancing on his palate. He’s done this more times than he can count, has gotten this near to know that close will never be close enough, but you still jolt a bit—PDA has never been your thing. 

When he pulls away, you continue to stare at each other, locked in a gaze until the ice cream begins to drip down his fingers and onto the beach towel. It misses his trunks by a hair and you both laugh at how he belatedly tries to escape it even though it’s already there. 

It’s indescribable, this moment, seeing you in slow motion, laughing as bright as the sun—the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. It takes every bit of him to look away so he can wipe his hands clean from the dripping dessert.

You hand him a packet of wipes and beckon him to sit in front of you after. Squeezed onto the palm of your hand is a copious amount of sunscreen you plan to slather all over him. A touch-up, if you will. 

Gojo has sensitive skin, pale as bond paper and burns just as quickly. The high points of his face are already reddening, warm to the touch when you dab at them with sunscreen. 

You’re so near, so close, sitting cross-legged in front of him with your knees touching his. The tip of your tongue sticks out just slightly as you focus on his skin. 

Even though he knows, he still wonders what your lips would taste like, SPF chapstick and crumbly bits from the wafer cone. He wonders what your eyelashes would feel like, fluttering over his own. 

The light casts a halo around you and he thinks it’s fitting for all that you do. You pamper him like this, slather love all over his chest and back, massage it in so it dissolves into him—and he feels it so deep that he tastes it.

How can your love be so sweet? He thinks, sighing as your fingers work sunscreen up his neck from his collarbone. You always apply his skincare like this: upwards, gently—‘no tugging, please!’—something about keeping his baby face even when he’s old. 

“You should join them,” you mumble, rubbing more product onto the nape of his neck. You’re leaning over his shoulder, neck brushed against his cheek. 

Gojo hums, watching everyone from a distance. It’s been a while since he’s had a day like this. 

“But maybe after 30 minutes, so the sunblock doesn’t wash off. You’re already burning.” you note, coming back to sit. 

Of course, he’s already burning. How can he not when the sun is right in front of him? 

.

You join everyone for a game of beach volleyball in the sunset of the afternoon. You’re transported back to high school, the last time you did this—you and Satoru against Shoko and Suguru, with Haibara keeping score. 

From the way Gojo’s eyes are glossed over, you can tell he’s thinking about it too, the memory having seared itself into your brains forever, it seems. 

Being paired together should feel familiar—the same, but it doesn’t—isn’t, because Gojo can’t concentrate, sneaking glances to notice all the little things about you that he never used to. Your skin shines from the combination of sweat and sunscreen, and when you crash into him it’s both sticky and slippery. He should really ask for a time-out before you blind him completely. 

You look unfairly good in your bikini, too good he can barely hear you calling for him; between the ocean and his blood rushing, any other sound is drowned out into nothing. 

Maki and Yuuji absolutely demolish the both of you, reaching 15 first in the final set. Gojo blames the loss on you of course, even though he’s missed every pass you’ve sent his way and netted 60% of his spikes. 

And maybe it technically is your fault—you and your (very distracting) little things. But it’s entirely on him that he’s fallen for it, fallen for you as much as this. 

.

.

.

Gojo thinks of love differently when he sees a picture of himself and all it does is remind him of you.

There’s a photo tucked safely in his wallet (saved and set as his homescreen too). Shoko snorts when she walks in on him printing it, all six-foot-three of him hunched over the small inkjet printer in the faculty room. 

“It’s all digital now, Satoru,” she scoffs, taking a puff on her cigarette. 

Gojo doesn’t say anything even though he knows it’s true, too focused on watching the printer push out the two-by-three inch image he’s about to cut into. 

Print photos aren’t as important anymore when cloud storage spaces are just as–if not more–accessible, but Gojo is admittedly sentimental despite every front he puts up to hide it. 

He’s kept every single gift you’ve given him and camouflaged it as decoration in his office, and the family drawing 10-year-old Tsumiki made is still folded between the pages of a self-help book Yaga had given him when he first decided to teach. 

When every moment is experienced so vividly, seen through a muddle of infinite energies, there are those he wishes could stay still—ones that take up space to remind him: ‘this is real, it happened, and here is proof that it did’. 

He already has one of all of you, fresh-faced and barely pushing the peaks of youth at 16. A tangle of arms wrapped around each other—one of his gripping tightly on Suguru, and the other hanging loosely over you. Utahime is crouched in front, holding the hand you’ve placed on her shoulder while pulling Shoko into a semi-squish-semi-hug (because out of the four of you, Shoko is her favorite—completely valid; if given the choice, she’d be your favorite too). Nanami and Haibara stay close to Suguru, squatting low to balance the photo, and Haibara is smiling, the ever cheery grin Suguru loves to dote on, while Nanami is Nanami—sharp features and a serious gaze that you all know he’ll grow into someday, handsome with age. 

For the longest time, Gojo has kept that photo hidden, locked away in the drawer of his bedside table as if keeping it there means the memory will stay guarded forever—untouched, unspoiled, unruined. 

It would have stayed there if you didn’t stumble upon it while looking for his painkillers during another one of his skull-crushing migraines. 

You approach him with the image hesitantly, eyes damp and glossy. Years have faded the colors ever so slightly, but the corners remain crisp from being stowed away neatly. You say sorry, that you shouldn’t have looked through his things, but you remember the moment it was taken so fondly: a visit to the Kyoto campus on a one-day break to train with other students. 

Gojo has many theories about time and the multitude of spaces it takes—like how a person can exist at different points in time, disparate at each instance, and still take up the same big chunk of space. The opposite can be true too, that someone can live finitely (just once) and occupy spaces in every place you look: the face of a passerby down the road, a sign at the corner of the street, or even a photograph that immortalizes people you once knew. 

He only shares when you ask, aware that he tends to be a bit of a nerd about it whenever it’s brought up, but you don't mind. You like listening to it all, no matter how insightful or confusing they are for you to make sense—a version of him not many get to witness. His explanations are comprehensible for the most part, except—

When Gojo tells you that he’s kept the image in his drawer, hidden, because exposing it to the space-time that exists now will erase every reminder that it ever happened, you hug him tightly. 

Your sniffles are heard from the way his head is tucked into the crook of your neck, your fingers gripping strands of his hair in empathy. 

He considers your near-tears as a sign that the memory is long gone, decayed into the brittling tragedy of reality. But you smile, the corners of your lips bittersweet as you express disbelief that he’s kept it all this time. 

You tell him delicately that some precious things are meant to be celebrated, put out to be remembered—to be experienced. 

And it becomes clearer to him then, by the look in your eyes and remembrance soft-spoken, that what good is a photo unseen? 

What good is a love unwitnessed?

When you gift him a frame a year after finding the photo, he hangs it by the wall next to his office door. The image is painful to look at, always has been (even when it was hidden in his drawer)—during Suguru’s defection, and death anniversaries especially. 

The recent one for Nanami was heavy; the first time he’s ever been able to process grief fully. 

Gojo can argue that it grows more difficult every time he catches a glimpse of it from his desk, but you have a way of honoring pain that doesn’t make it sting as bad—that turns it into a reminder of a love that was once there, of feelings that hurt as evidence that someone cared. 

Now, he wants another photo printed, one of just the two of you. Not because it hurts, but because he wants this precious thing to be remembered and seen—for this love to be witnessed too. 

It’s self-timered, snapped under the shade of a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. The picture is far from perfect: your eyes bright and mouth open mid-fear of his phone falling off the bridge railing. 

You may look a teensy bit funny, but Gojo will always find it cute. Anyone can see it, at how he looks at you in that moment—like you are every bit worthy of the distance travelled and seasons waited. He gazes at you fondly, eyes holding clear skies and pink lips curling into a small smile. 

It’s cheesy, but if you ask him what he thinks about this year’s flowers, he’ll tell you none of them (not even any of them combined) could compare to you. The cherry blossoms could be gone and he’d still see them everywhere (in the softness of your lips, the fullness of your cheeks, the radiance you emit when you are truly, solely content and happy). 

He remembers that afternoon well: the spring breeze that jolts his phone sideways, his hand resting on your lower back, unseen in the image. There’s no real reason for visiting the blossoms on this day of all days, but Gojo doesn’t believe in coincidences, and he’s counted down exactly to a year since you both had your first kiss.

It’s so silly, because he’s never thought of things like this before. He knows you probably don’t think much of it either considering that neither of you have made anything official yet since. 

And he feels a little stupid for that, honestly. 

You have a drawer of his clothes for the nights he stays over (more often than not), and even though you go on these little trips that are so obviously dates, you both still just tell everyone you’re ‘hanging out’.

He’s not fooling anyone here, not when he looks at you then with the feeling of his chest expanding, stretching to accommodate the overflows of his affection since learning the ways to love you—tenderness caught in little pixels of eternity.  

When Gojo goes through all 179 photos from that afternoon, he filters out the ones to delete and picks this one out especially—favorites and resizes it to fit his home screen and his wallet too. 

There’s something about the look on his face that reminds him of every time he’s caught the same one on you. 

He slides the photo into the little sleeve behind his credit card, catching himself smiling—this must be because of you, he thinks, and the bits and pieces of yourself that have somehow become part of him slowly, sneaking into him unknowingly.

If this is what it means to be in love, with you, then he’s fucked. 

Don’t you know that he’s insatiable? These traces of you will only make him want the whole of you. 

.

You find the photo while he rushes to the restaurant restroom. On ‘hang out’s like this, you insist on splitting the bill, but Gojo has always been stubborn and you’ve learned that you can never argue. 

He hands you his wallet to pay with his card, and when you slide it out, the photo falls. It’s face down on the floor when you pick it up, fully expecting it to be a photocard of some idol you know Gojo follows. 

But it isn’t, and your smile widens. 

When Gojo comes back, you’re looking up at him affectionately, biting your lips as if to stop yourself from speaking—the same way he always does. 

It’s funny because, slotted between your two fingers is the photo he’s kind of flustered you found, but he has no time to be embarrassed when he sees a little bit of himself in the way you’re staring at him right now.

.

.

.

“So, Yuuji asked if we were together.” 

You quirk an eyebrow, looking up at Gojo from the pile of laundry you’ve begun folding on your bed. He emerges from the bathroom, ruffling his hair with a towel. 

Over the past year, Gojo has spent his weekends off with you, sleeping over and traipsing around your room in his pajama set as if he’s lived here just as long as you. 

You snort as you fold, amused that this is even a question to begin with. Yuuji’s always been known for being exceptionally dense, but you didn’t think it was this bad. Gojo was especially touchy with you during that beach trip, and you’re sure Megumi and Nobara have caught up to let him know by now, somehow. 

“What made him ask?” 

“I think he wants to take you away.” Gojo teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he throws the towel on the chair across your vanity. 

You roll your eyes, still sweetly, indulging him, “Sure.” 

It’s now a running joke that Gojo’s threatened about Yuuji stealing you; you’ve always had a soft spot for bright eyes and even brighter souls and Yuuji is as close to that as anyone can get.

It’s not like that though, it could never be; Yuuji is just like your Megumi—the two boys you want to protect and care for in hopes of treating them better than their lives have ever. 

Gojo feels the same, you know, otherwise he wouldn’t have guided them as much as he has (despite his... questionable ways). Still, your hands have always been gentler, kinder—and though shorter, have always outstretched much farther than his. 

You have a way of inching yourself into people’s lives that just fits. He’s experienced it first-hand, can’t even dare to imagine what his life would be like if you didn’t. 

He walks across the room to you, bed dipping as he steadies a knee before draping his entire body over your shoulders. 

Now that you think about it, it makes sense that Yuuji’s confused, because Gojo has always been extremely touchy to everyone, just never when the feelings mattered, with you. Kiss him once, though, and it snowballs into an avalanche of firsts. And what he’s about to do right now, he thinks, might just trigger another one to form all together. 

“As if I’d let him.” he mumbles right by your ear, chin tucked by the crook of your neck. It tickles when he speaks, his nose poking at your cheeks. 

“Who put you in charge?” you scoff jokingly, unfazed. 

He moves away from you in disbelief, mouth open as he stares at you mindlessly folding.

To be fair, he can’t fault you. You aren’t technically official even though you have kind-of-been for a little over a year. There’s no particular reason, just that you haven’t talked about it—part because you wanted him to approach it whenever he was ready, and also, because it just never seemed like a priority.

You laugh as he stares at you, stunned into silence, the pout on his face borrowed from all the versions of yours. 

There’s no point of contention because you’ve only ever loved Gojo since you were 17. 

“Kidding,” you kiss his cheek as an apology. 

“Don’t even joke about that.” he huffs, you’re starting to take after him a little too much.

“You’re mine.” he murmurs after, arms wrapped around your waist and legs stretched out wide to encase you. 

He says it as if it is the simplest truth. 

Your heartbeat quickens, too loud and pounding; this is the first time you’ve ever heard this from him, and a part of you thinks this is just another one of those flirty side-comments he makes on a whim.

“You tell him that?” you hope he can’t hear your voice shake as he nuzzles your neck, your fingers trembling on the pair of socks you have yet to roll. 

He hums, hugging you tighter. He waits for you to finish folding before letting you lean against him, offering his fingers for you to fiddle with. They’re cold, long and slender, veiny just by a bit, and he always gives them to you like they’re yours, you like to think. 

There’s an inhale, a breath of hesitation, before he exhales.  

“Something like it.” 

You don’t say anything, only nod, and it’s nerve-wracking. He’s so nervous even though he knows he doesn’t have to be because it’s just you. And there’s no need to doubt what you’re feeling. But—

“You are though,” he pauses, “right?” 

He has to be sure. This is a testament to you more than himself that he’s learned to ask instead of bulldozing you like he does with everyone else. Who else will he pick that up from but you? 

There’s hesitation you hear that you think shouldn’t be there anymore; the fact that you’ve given so much of yourself to this man and he still thinks you’re unsure—

“‘Cause I’m yours.” he speaks, clearly, definitively, before you can even answer. And you know—you’ve known ever since that party years ago. A simple admittance: ‘I’m taken’. 

You turn around to face him, eyes shimmering. 

Can he see? You’re meant for him only. 

All you’ve ever wanted was to love him; everything else he’s done up until this point is already more than you could ever imagine. The labels can only do so much to capture the gravity of what you are to one another: years of history unpacked into a mishmash of feelings overlapping—it’s a lot.

You sit cross legged in front of him, your knees touching his. He’s biting his lips again, an anxious habit you want to kiss away. 

Gojo has proven far too much of himself already that he’s serious with you—your kind-of-confession, that confrontation, and the days after, all the ways you’ve both learned to love each other. 

You cup his cheeks. 

A single word cannot possibly define what he is to you.

“I mean, o-only if you want me to be.” he adds on, blue eyes darting back and forth.

Gojo runs his mouth almost all the time and you’ve never heard him stutter once in his life. Except now. 

He’s endearing like this—a version of him you are slowly discovering. 

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” you finally say, and it’s a relief. 

He feels good, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pull you closer, hugging you tighter as you both smile. 

He kisses you once, twice, maybe a million times all over, travelling across your eyelids, the center of your forehead, down to the corners of your mouth before landing a real one right on your lips. 

Gojo always looks pretty but he looks prettiest like this, worry-free, with love in his eyes and nothing but pure happiness in the way he holds you. 

He won’t tell you that Yuuji asked about your anniversary, not if you were together. 

At least now he has an answer.

Gojo stares at you like he wants to say something, a thank you maybe, but he bites his lips instead. No words will ever amount to this feeling, he thinks, of his chest expanding and heart hammering. So he kisses you with all of it, trailing soft smacks of his lips down your neck, tickling. The tips of his hair are still wet from his shower, leaving droplets on your skin as he nips. 

You laugh—sprinkled in love. 

“S-stop!” you push him away, “Satoru,” giggling, “tickles!” 

“We have to consummate it now.” he whispers, grabbing you by the waist to place you on his lap, squeezing your sides while nibbling at your neck playfully. 

You roll your eyes at his antics, “It’s not–” you laugh out loud when he pinches your hips, “–marriage, Satoru.” 

Oh, if only you knew, he thinks. 

The image you’ve planted in his head is dangerous when he’s this drunk on love right now. 

More decades, more years spent with you? In another life, or maybe even in this one, if time permits, he wouldn’t mind making that come true. 

.

It’s crazy how much things can change—for all his life, he’s ruled out the possibility of love ever taking root in his ribcage. 

You’ve managed to make it feel so easy, so good, even when he was shit-terrified not knowing how to love you like he should. 

Now, he thinks, how could he ever miss out on love this way? A love this good, with you? 

.

.

.

For all of Gojo’s life, he’s never had to be anyone else—always the strongest, the only one. He’s never had to change anything about himself, because what’s there to improve when you’re already the best?

In a way, this is why it works with you. You’ve taken him as he is, all the good and ugly and never asked for anything more than what he can give. 

But being this in love with you—it’s foreign. There are pieces within him shifting, all on their own without him knowing. 

How he wants to be better, for you. To be good enough to deserve all of it, and give back more of it too. 

Gojo doesn’t realize how much love has changed him until he feels it uprooting every insecurity he never even knew existed, pulling it all up to the surface. 

When things are going great, it’s hard to imagine them ever going the other way. 

.

.

.

“You don’t mean that.” you mumble, voice trembling.

Gojo stares at you, at your lips quivering and the fists clenched to your sides. There are tears collecting in pools by your eyes, and if there’s anything else he hates in this world, it’s seeing you cry. 

So why?

Why couldn’t he just shut up? 

“Please tell me you don’t mean that,” you take a step closer, gripping the edge of his jacket, “Satoru.” your voice cracks, begging. 

It’s an out-of-body experience when Gojo registers that he’s fucked up, and he sees himself now, bird’s-eye-view, and thinks this is the worst thing he could do to you after all you’ve been through. 

“I need some time to think,” he says, finally, the only words coming out of his mouth—but he can’t hear himself speaking. 

He should have said sorry, taken it all back, he thinks, not make it worse by leaving. 

He heads for the door, heart crunching under each footstep away from you. 

Is this what being in love’s supposed to do? Break his heart while yours is bleeding?

.

You’re too good for Gojo, in every sense of the word—and he knows it.

You are far too kind, far too generous, far too patient with him. You give him more love than he deserves, definitely, and admittedly enough, with how he is, you have been settling for the bare minimum but that’s on him, not on you. 

He had no right speaking to you the way he did, hurting you with accusations born from insecurities he’s never before had to deal with. 

He knows it. 

Who accuses you of ‘meddling’ as if everything out of you doesn’t come from the goodness of your heart? Of provoking you with ‘chasing the bare minimum’ as if he isn’t aware that that’s all he’s given you to work with? 

Utahime was right in telling you to be careful with him, and he doesn’t blame her for it. He would have done the same. 

He should have told you there was something brewing inside of him already—should have talked to you instead of bursting from all the things people have been saying lately.

Gojo hasn’t spoken to you in three days and the feeling this compares to is worse than anything else he’s ever had to face. 

.

He knocks on your door at night, a little past dinner and too early for bedtime. They echo loudly within the walls of your apartment, and you drag yourself up despite your obvious look of heartbreak. 

Gojo hears your footsteps and everything moves entirely too slowly; the lock, taking far too long to turn, the gap between the door and the door frame widening incrementally. Even your face comes into view as if in stop motion, frame-by-frame, gradually.

His hands are in his pockets, lips bitten to bleed. He’s pretty sure he isn’t breathing when he takes you in—puffy eyes and a sweater that belongs to him. 

(Is it sick of him to say that he still finds you beautiful this way? Even when you look every bit the part of heartache?) 

Gojo didn’t have a plan coming here, didn’t have a list of things to say, just the feeling that he needed to talk to you, see you, even just be around you today. 

When your eyes meet, it’s quiet. You stare into him for one–two–three– (Can you tell that they’re watery? Can you see they’re puffed up too?) and then open the door wider to let him in. You head straight to the kitchen, never once looking back while dragging your feet. 

He stands outside a few seconds more, waiting for you to take it back—but you don’t, so he walks in and closes the door.

He’s been in your apartment plenty of times before, has practically lived in it by how often he stays over. But this is the first time he’s felt wholly out of place, not knowing where to put himself, just standing in the space between your kitchen counter and the living room awkwardly.

You push a glass of water towards him and he can’t stop staring at it—at you, at your fingers that he wants nothing more now but to hold. 

Even with all his faults, all his wrongs, you open your arms for him to walk into, allow him in as if he didn’t just hurt you. 

And he wants to cry, at the fact that this place still feels like home, at how it’ll always feel that way wherever you go. 

How are you still treating him so kindly? Still taking care of him? A glass of water is one too many for someone like him. 

You turn away from him to pour yourself your own then he speaks—

“You should be angry with me.” Gojo says softly, but you hear it. 

You pause, tilting the pitcher back upright. 

“Why aren’t you angry at me?” he says, a little louder this time, more desperate, more pleading.

Why are you never angry at me? he wants to ask. 

You turn around to face him, putting the pitcher down.

Under your kitchen lights, his eyes shine like sunlight on the ocean, waves lapping on the shore. You think it might be a trick of the light, but his lips tremble when he closes them, as if he can’t speak any more. 

It’s just as you’ve said, there’s no point being angry with him when your heart can never take it. 

You always give Gojo the benefit of the doubt, and though he’s hurt you—though this might be the most painful thing he’s told you yet, you know that he’s been under immense pressure lately. Stressed beyond belief from negotiating with the government on policies for jujutsu society. 

It’s not an excuse, you know, but Gojo always has his reasons. He'll tell you eventually, you believe that much. 

You give him a sad smile, struggling to stop your tears from spilling. His fists are clenched too tightly, nails digging in hard enough to bleed. He hasn’t moved since coming in, so you push yourself off the kitchen sink towards him. 

You take his hands first, unfurl each finger pressed upon his palm and rub gently. He cries quietly for a love so pure that only you would attempt to ease his hurt despite the pain he’s dealt you. 

You tiptoe second, pulling the sleeves of your (his) sweater before reaching up to wipe his eyes—beautiful and blue just like you’ve always known, droplets of the ocean at your fingertips. 

“Be mad,” he whispers, “please.” squeezing his eyes tightly. 

It hurts more when you aren’t, he thinks. 

His hand comes up to grip your wrist, bringing it down to cup his cheek. You stroke your thumb across his skin, soothing, loving, and that’s all it takes for him to pull you in. He hugs you tight, arms wrapped around you, clutching. 

He wouldn’t deserve you. In any life.

Gojo’s never cried this much before, head pressed to your neck as you rub circles along his back, shushing him softly. You start sniffling too, small at first until it turns into soft hiccups when you finally cry. 

Your grip on him tightens. 

“‘M sorry.” he mumbles, lips moving against your neck. 

“‘S–” you hiccup, “–okay.” 

“Stop saying that when it’s not,” he presses against you, nuzzling your neck, “I hurt you.”

“Then don’t–” another hiccup, “–call yourself–” hic, “–bare minimum.” you cry harder. 

Gojo knows your heart and the tears that leak out of your eyes; he knows they hold pain for more than just yourself but every single person in your life. You, crying now, is evidence of that truth—shedding tears for him not just because of him when he thinks he’s the bare minimum. 

This must be what it means to be truly, deeply loved, he thinks, to have someone know what you mean without even having to speak it—to know your heart, and all the good and bad parts of it. 

“I don’t think I’m good enough to you,” he admits, pulling himself away from you.

When he sees your face, wet, with your nose and eyes puffed up from crying, he decides that he hates it more than anything else. Makes it sick to his stomach, even. 

He cradles your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your tears. A whole hand of his could cover your face entirely, but he always, without fail, holds you delicately. 

“That’s not–” hic, “–true.” you gather your breathing, holding him by the wrists as he presses his forehead against yours. “Only I get to decide that. Not anyone, not you.” 

You kiss his lips, a small peck before nudging his nose with yours. You soothe each other this way—in the quiet, swaying to your own tune. 

“You’re good to me plenty, Satoru.” you whisper, once both of you have settled. 

He opens his eyes to look at you, smiling sadly as he cradles your face, “I didn’t mean it.” 

Whatever he told you that day, taking it all out on you.

“I know.” you mumble, nodding. 

You always do. 

.

.

.

Gojo has always loved you, in some type of way—as friends, colleagues, a-little-bit-more-but-less-than what you are today. 

But how he feels right now? It’s kind of ridiculous, borderline out-of-hand, and it’s driving him insane. 

It’s such a simple, ordinary thing for you to do: you rush up to him, phone in hand and scroll to some video you found online. You’re so excited, a bounce in your step as if he’s the first and only person you want to show this to. Your eyes shine bright with a megawatt smile to match, and you’re talking so, so fast, completely lit up like fireworks in the making. 

He knows you think that he’s listening but, he couldn’t care less about it honestly. Sorry. Not when the words go in one ear and out the other, because all that registers is how adorable you are, giddy and everything. 

He makes a joke—completely unrelated, but you find it so funny. Then you’re laughing, full on smacking his arm, doubled over, arms hugging your stomach, guffawing. Your feet are kicking the air as you sink deeper into your couch. Gojo’s standing in front of you, post-enactment of some impression he made, and he’s frozen in place but warm all over. 

Seeing you laugh like this, smile like this, being so pretty when you’re happy, the pounding in his chest goes crazy. 

This isn’t the first time he’s made you laugh; he does it all the time. You almost always roll your eyes and chuckle, sometimes giggle with your eyes squinting and laugh lines creasing. But it might be the first time it’s like this: with you so bright, more than the sun and every other star in the sky. 

And he thinks, this is all he could ever want—to make you happy for the rest of his life. 

There’s too much of this feeling inside of him, clawing at his throat, itching to get out. He’s filled with it, has been filled with it for so long that it’s starting to overflow and if he doesn’t say this now he might just—

“I’m so in love with you.” 

Gojo breathes it out, as if finally releasing it after all this time. You don’t think he processes it because he just stands there, in the middle of your living room, staring at you. 

Your laughter dies with maybe a little part of you too (in a good way). 

He looks so sweet, so sincere, and you see his heart, so big, so honest and pure. You get flashbacks of every Satoru you have ever known, at 15, 17, 23, to now. 

It’s not like either of you don’t know; it’s plain as day, how you feel about each other—and you would have been fine going on without ever having to hear him speak of love this way.

But hearing it now, it’s far better than anything you could have imagined. 

You stare at him. He stares at you. 

He’s shocked too. 

You don’t want to embarrass him, especially if he didn’t mean to say it, so you chuckle, moving on to break the quiet.

“I can unhear it if you want,” you offer shyly, genuinely. 

Gojo looks at you, confused, before a pout makes its way onto his face. You sit up on your couch, playing with your fingers as you look up at him.

Sure, he practically blurted it out, maybe in the heat of the moment, or something, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And he’s realizing that the only thing he really wants from this—

“Though…” you continue, biting your lips, “I think I’m pretty in love with you too.” 

The little laugh you make has him, completely. 

The grin that breaks on his face is infectious. Gojo, who is normally so pale, is now pink all over—red by his ears and down his neck. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that can be found in yours too. 

This moment right here feels like first loves—teens first saying ‘I love you’. 

“You think?” he asks incredulously, joking, “So you’re not sure?” he walks closer to you. 

You laugh, candy for his cravings, and take his hand to kiss each knuckle before guiding it to your cheek. He runs a thumb across your skin, affection on his fingertips. His index finger hooks itself under your chin, tilting it to rest on his stomach as you look up at him. 

A kiss to your forehead, tenderly, gently. 

The best part about being in love? 

He gets to be in it with you. 

.

.

.

Gojo can’t sleep. 

It’s not anything new—4 hours on average, maybe 6 on a good night. He doesn’t remember a time when sleep ever came easily.

Sleeping with you, beside you, has helped, but it’s never solved the problem. You’ve gotten him to a full 8 hours before, but never consecutively, and he’s starting to think that if you can’t do it, nothing ever will. 

Your sleeping positions change every night, but they always come out as some variation of hugging. Gojo firmly believes that he might as well sleep alone if you aren’t touching. 

Tonight, you’re spooning, arm slung over his waist and palm right on his chest, fingers interlaced with his. Your legs stay tangled together with soft puffs of air blowing at the back of his neck. 

He opens his eyes and checks the clock by his bedside. 3:24 a.m. 

He sighs deeply, carefully maneuvering his body to slip away from you. You used to wake up the first few times this happened, worried about an emergency or some kind of accident. Being a sorcerer trains you for things like that. 

You’ve always known Gojo had bad sleep, just not the severity of it. 

You don’t wake up to it as much as you used to, having grown accustomed to it after more nights together, but on the off-chance that you do, Gojo always kisses your forehead gently as if to tell you that it’s okay, you can go back to sleep.

You don’t wake up now, thankfully, so he grabs his phone and heads for the kitchen. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest tonight, far heavier than others he’s woken up from. He pours himself a glass of water before hopping on the kitchen counter, ready to sort through the bowl of candy sitting on the island. 

The date today is October 31. Halloween. It’s been a few years since Shibuya but he still feels like he’s suffocating. 

In the train station. In the box.

In front of Suguru—or Kenjaku, both, whatever. 

He’s gone to therapy, just like you wanted, for the both of you, and grieving has been an interesting concept to wrap his head around since.

But no matter how much he trains his mind to deal with it, his body will always remember the feeling. 

He snaps out of it when he hears your footsteps padding on the floorboards. Your figure emerges from the hallway, bed hair and eyes still sleepy, squinting. 

“Satoru?” you rub at your eyes, his sleep shirt entirely too long as the sleeves extend past your fingertips. The extra fabric swings in the air. “You okay?” you whisper, approaching him. 

Waking you up is the last thing he could ever want right now, but it’s hard when you’re also the only one he can talk about this with. When you know what it’s like to grieve everyone too.  

He has every intention of brushing it off, of telling you to go to sleep, but one look at you—one look at him and it’s like you just know. He doesn’t even need to explain. 

It isn’t hard to piece together, knowing what today is and seeing him choked up the way he is. You tell Gojo it’s your intuition, but he has a tell, and maybe you’re the only one who knows it. 

His eyes—they’ve always given him away. There’s the Satoru you know, then a Satoru that’s far removed, gone away. You can spot it though, the moment it loses its sparkle, the moment it turns from blue to gray. 

He feels a little selfish sharing this with you; he’s not the only one who’s lost people. You have too. 

You stand in front of him and offer a sad smile, outstretching your arms as an invite, as if to tell him: you can stay here for as long as you’d like. 

He moves into your space slowly, hopping off the kitchen island to slump against you. 

He doesn’t hug you yet, not immediately, hands still shaky at the memory. You rub his back, hooking your chin on his shoulder as he bends down to rest his head by your cheek. 

You take his hand delicately, bringing them to your lips so you can kiss every fingertip gently. When you finish, he wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whisper, like a hushed secret. 

And he wants to, but also, there isn’t anything else to say that you don’t know already. You were there the first few times he had therapy, and when he felt comfortable enough to go alone, he told you all about it anyway right after. 

If there’s a secret to fighting the Gojo Satoru with guaranteed victory, they’d only have to get to you—he’d be gone, entirely. You know too much of him, own too many parts of him already. 

He chuckles dryly, vibrating by your neck. A step back and he’s leaning against the counter, bringing you closer by the hip, thumb stroking. He tucks away strands of your hair behind your ear, flattening down the bird’s nest that it is from your sleep. 

“Nothing you haven’t heard before, pretty.”

Gojo’s been more tender lately, especially in the night when his piercing eyes turn soft, gazing. 

You pout, the same one since you were 16. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it, the way he calls you such sweet, honeyed things; you’ve only recently begun to call him ‘baby’ and that alone has been enough to make your head spin. 

Still, he wouldn’t be your Satoru if he didn’t surprise you. With how he is now, it’s hard to imagine a time when this was all so difficult for him, when even the slightest bit of your hands touching was challenging. 

It’s hard to imagine that both of you are here now, living in the same space, by the kitchen at night, with the contents of your hearts memorized—the sorrow, the pain, the joy, all the love, every single one. 

He kisses your nose, and that’s comfort alone. 

This is his reality now, with you, and it’s safe.

It’s good. 

“Do you want to make waffles?” he hears you mumble, running your hands over his chest, soothing.  

The clock reads 3:56 a.m. Early breakfast doesn’t sound so bad, could also be a midnight snack.

(But he knows what you’re doing). 

You don’t tell him to try to go back to sleep, never forcing anything you know he can’t do. Instead, you offer yourself to stay up with him, keep him company. Whatever he needs. 

(And he loves that about you). 

.

.

.

Gojo will forever argue that you might have fallen first, but he’s definitely fallen harder. 

He could map out every single location he’s laid his love on—your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes, the curve of your nose, and your lips, the same ones he’s kissed and nipped, bitten until he gets his fill. 

Your neck and chest—a canvas for his desires. He glides a finger across your collarbone before lightly tapping on it thrice. 

There’s the little dip at the base of your spine, and your thighs—

Oh, he could get lost in them. 

He knows. 

He has. Many times.

There’s an animal inside of him that only answers to you. 

When you kiss his neck and grip his back, soft moans by his ear—short and sweet. He’s a gone man, wholly devoted to you, and you only. 

You breathe his name out, “Satoru,” raspily, and he sinks into you—everything, all that he has spilling in the depths of you. 

How can he possibly contain all this love?

It’s scary how so much of him already belongs to you, all these years—how you’ve been carrying pieces of him, all versions of him throughout every birthday, every moment you’ve touched his life and have it irrevocably changed. 

.

“Are you happy?” he mumbles by your ear, voice deep and lazy. 

It’s the morning, sunlight barely peeking through your curtains. Gojo hugs you from behind, arms caging you as he traces little hearts on your sides. 

“Right now?” you whisper back, chuckling, “That’s not fair.” 

He nips at your ear, a small bite, before you turn to face him.

He supposes you’re right, it isn’t fair to ask that now; both your bodies are sore, well-exhausted, and littered with conversations on love. 

Gojo is pretty in the mornings just like he is all the time, his hair lending well to sunlight as much as it does to the moonlight. And his eyes—they shine a different shade during the day compared to the night. 

You though, you’re an entirely different creature of your own: a goddess in bedsheets and pillows, wrapped in immaculate white.  

You giggle when you face him, nose-to-nose, and he pulls you in tighter, grips you by the butt to slot you in right where you belong. 

Are you happy with me? 

He wonders, and you can read it—his eyes his greatest tell. You kiss him tenderly, lips moving gently against his. Then you smile, sincerely, before whispering—

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!) thank you notes: to @stellamancer for being there since the very start!! col wouldn’t even exist without you!! you’re every much part of the creation of this as i am :'), to @crysugu for being so ever supportive, cheering me on all the time!! and for loving col reader as much as i do!! and to you reading this and everyone else who has loved this collection so far!!  of course!! a credit to all the writers whose works have inspired the way i view and write gojo: to @seravphs for teen dad!gojo and cruel summer influences, i draw so much of the way i understand these characters and their dynamics from you and your beautiful way of writing them and i hope my interpretation gives justice to that!!, to @augustinewrites for keeping up with the fushigojos, this series and the way you write them, with so much love, has always pushed for me to view gojo that way!! you’ve inspired so much of my understanding that gojo does believe in love and that when he falls in it, he falls in it hard!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #satoru #shotorus.writes #col #algorithm pls love me

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.1)

W/C: 3.5k #full is NSFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, mentions of abuse, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna has FEELINGS but is BAD AT FEELINGS, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, soz if anything is clunky asdkjf; i can only reread the same fic so many times for editing sadge

A/N: Decided to separate this into parts since I'm dying to post some of it lol I've held it in a chokehold in the shadows of my WIPs for too long, some of it has to come out before I explode o(--( there is more to come!

tag: @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9

The scripture was incomplete, worn away by age.

…herein lays the God...imprisoned...by...Disgraced One…

Yet the society felt this, the coffin uncovered decades ago, could be an invaluable asset. The vessel was decrepit and ancient, yet still stood strong against the test of time and the wear of nature. Seal papers, no doubt left by a monk of sorts, covered the entirety of its surface, hiding away rotting wood and rusted bands of metal from modern sorcerer's curious eyes.

Few knew why the higher ups kept the vessel under lock and key. Fewer knew why they kept it at all; however, those few understood the importance of such a relic. They'd been the ones to seek it out, to steal it away before malicious forces took it for themselves, warping the supposed deity inside for their own, malevolent purpose, whatever that may be.

And with Ryoumen Sukuna's fingers being found one by one, they could not allow anyone to possess humanity's failsafe: you. A great being imprisoned by the devil.

“Anything?” Gojo trilled, patting Yuuji’s shoulders frantically as he stood behind him and beheld the wooden tub covered in sigils. 

“Uh…” Yuuji tried to focus on Sukuna’s presence inside of him. He didn’t seem intrigued or frightened, nor did he seem too bothered with the idea of them trying to smite him down with a sealed god–he was, however, annoyed that Yuuji continued to poke and prod at him. 

Piss off, runt. 

“Yep. Nope. Sukuna doesn't care,” Yuuji sighed. “He's getting all pissy now that I'm bothering him, though.” 

Gojo laughed and patted Yuuji's shoulders a few more times before all but twirling towards the bound box. “Well, that's a pretty good sign that he's not the one that did this, then! In that case,” he started, walking up to the seal papers keeping everything locked down, “let's pop ‘er open.” 

Before Yuuji could even wonder if that was a good idea, the white-haired witch used an overzealous amount of cursed energy and disintegrated every scrap of seal paper. 

Yuuji braced for impact. Surely something terrible like a bankai or a spirit bomb would send them flying once the coffin came undone. Surely they'd pay for this, for unleashing whatever godly spirit laid locked up for far too long, only to release it back into the modern age and–

“Huh. Weird.”

Yuuji cracked open an eye and saw the dull shine of tattered onyx fur, and his control slipped with a blitz of vertigo. 

Markings flared across his skin as he stormed toward the coffin, heart howling with thoughts and memories crashing through a shared mind; a face he didn't know but knew so well bloomed at the forefront of it all, eyes framed in pointed scarlet, skin bathed in ancient, dappled sunlight.

They reached the edge of the coffin and gripped the edges, splintering the wood as they took in the sight; crimson and curse decay pooled around a figure, curled up and half-submerged. Several black, tattered tails spilled free from the tub, no longer crushed from the force of the lid sealing them inside, but they were bent awkwardly and matted with whatever tincture lay at the bottom.

Then there was the so-called god in the middle of it all–you. Still. Quiet. Curled up in a haori far too big for you. Eyes closed. Almost peaceful.

Confusion tore at Sukuna while nausea ripped through Yuuji; he couldn't bear to look at such a morose scene.

So, Sukuna pushed him aside.

[Heian Era]

You were never supposed to be anything more than a trinket. 

You were a gift from some family trying to show off for Sukuna, so much so that they offered him a delicacy, something he surely didn't have yet–a yokai. A kitsune, to be more exact. One with peculiar black tails. 

Sukuna found it interesting, and similarly desperate, to be brought such a creature as tribute. Certainly, it was meant to be seen as a high honour, yet somehow it felt…off. Why would humans give up something so powerful? 

Unexpectedly, it'd be you who told him. 

They submit me for the sake of convenience and mockery, your withering voice whispered where no one else could hear. You sounded weak. Tired. Maybe afraid, yet brave enough to reach towards the king and unveil the intentions of the men who brought you before him. 

Sukuna's eyes flicked to you, his feigned interest in what the sorcerers said falling straight into dismissal. You were much more intriguing. 

“Oh?” Sukuna asked, a smile creeping onto his face. The speakers ceased their jabbering and stared at your back with fierce intensity. Sukuna grinned wider. Oh, how he loved the way fear twisted mortal faces. 

You didn't shift or crumple into yourself under the eyes of so many, however. You pushed on with what little energy and life you had, so intent on dragging that clan through the mud. 

What I say is true, you assured simply. I expect to die today–

“Speak so everyone hears you, fox,” Sukuna commanded.

“--so I–I–” you coughed and cleared your throat, trying to rid your voice of the scratchy, weakness it struggled through. “I wish to not die with regrets.

"They have rendered me ill and unable to produce children, they see the black of my tails and regard me as an ill omen; yet they bring me to you, daring to spin sweet tales about the value of such an offering. But they lie,” You hissed. Your eyes glinted with molten malice, and Sukuna fell captivated.

“They throw me to you as they would diseased meat to dogs.” 

The courtyard fell silent, and Sukuna basked in it. You really were such a little troublemaker. A quietly chaotic force of nature. 

The king stood, rolling his shoulders as he did, and his pride flared as you dropped to your knees before him in respect. He walked to you and patted your head as one might a child's before appraising the sorcerers stood before him. 

“What a disappointment,” Sukuna sighed, raising another hand. The couple took up position, pooling their cursed energy in hopes of fending off the monster standing before them. The effort was quite cute. “Here I thought your clan might actually earn my mercy.” His hand dropped as the two lunged. Then, the two clansmen fell, too, both in neat, vertical halves. Quite overkill, yes, but he had a point to make. 

Where he expected a reaction from you, he got nothing. Only panting and poorly-stifled coughs came from you, racking through the entirety of your skin and bones frame. Sukuna could see it up close now, the way your body trembled from fatigue, the sickly greying of your skin, the scent of disease clinging to you. 

That wouldn't do. Sukuna liked his things to be in good shape. 

“Uraume,” Sukuna droned as he stared down at you, “fix this.”

It took some time, but you managed to recover. It was an unnerving experience, with the way Uraume tended to you with sincerity. Perhaps it was genuinity born from their devotion to Ryoumen Sukuna, but you greedily soaked it in, filling your stomach with the care they offered you. 

Sukuna didn't bother much with you, not that you really minded; you were much more content to be fed and forgotten than hunted down by the creature that supposedly took ownership of you without enforcing it. If he didn't cause harm or good, if he simply existed somewhere else and forgot you breathed the same air as him, you'd still be at peace. 

But he was more intrigued than you gave him credit for. 

“Ho? So this is where you scamper off to,” Sukuna hummed, leaning over you as you dozed in the nice little spot you'd made for yourself in the garden, right under the crimson cover of a maple tree. You jumped the slightest bit, your daydreams and sunbathing interrupted by the brute’s silhouette eclipsing the sun, but you settled again quickly. The beast of a man wasn't a cause for panic in your little world, after all. 

“Does it displease you?” You inquired, fixing your hair and straightening out your robes. 

Sukuna held onto an overhead branch of the tree as he looked down at you. “Pets are supposed to play in the yard, aren't they?” He smirked as you pursed your lips and flicked your tail before calming it with hasty pets. “What, you don't like being my pet?” 

“I would not refer to myself as a pet,” you countered as the man sat down with you and leaned against the tree. The king's presence calmed you. With him, you knew you were invincible. 

“Pft. Then pray tell what your damn role is around here.” One set of arms folded behind his head while the other set crossed over his chest. “Pets are freeloaders. Pretty sure that's exactly what you are.”

You huffed. “Freeloader. Tch. How rude.” 

“Lookit that. You're copping an attitude now that you're fat and fed. Used to be so much more polite.” 

“Fat and–I am not fat.” You headbutted his side lightly, something that would make more sense had you been in your fox form. You grinding your forehead against him suggested this was more of a human move, however. “I am perfectly normal now. I was brittle and nonexistent prior to now. This is a grand improvement.”

Sukuna scoffed a laugh and looked down at your head pressed up against his side. “Thanks to me,” he boasted. 

“Yes,” you agreed. You held onto his haori and looked up at him, placid and intense. “It is thanks to you. I would not be here if not for your mercy and intervention.” 

Sukuna raised a brow as he regarded you. “Hm. And what will you do to repay me?” 

“My very presence grants you luck, good fortune and fertility.” You tilted your head. “I already repay you by being here.”

Tch. But the gardens and surrounding lands did look more lush and lively since your arrival, he couldn't deny that fact. But he was a king; he could always ask for more and expect to get it. 

“What more?” He prodded.

Your tail flicked as you thought. “What would you ask of me?” 

“Something you haven't given another,” Sukuna replied. Ugh, your flowery, poetry-y, bullshit speak was rubbing off on him. 

You stared at him, gemstone eyes glinting with earthen hues and shards of gold in the yawning afternoon sun. The leaves bristled just perfectly, letting in dapples of citrus sunlight as if trying to make this moment something special, as if to burn your ethereal presence into history for all eternity. All this, just while you thought of what to give him. Perhaps a riddle is what you wanted. Perhaps purple prose suited your fancy. Perhaps it was something else. 

You sat up, carefully raising yourself onto your knees before leaning up towards the hulking king. He turned his face to you in interest, feeling a sort of natural energy begin to pool around the both of you, reaching from the far depths of the earth and the wide stretch of the sky to converge on your existence as you framed his face with gentle hands, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

It lasted only a second. But a second was long enough to catch the scent of petrichor and petals on your skin, to indulge in the heat of wildfires raging in your soul, to feel the blasphemy of you against him; then, you parted. 

“For now,” you murmured, and Sukuna swore he saw your single tail fan out into nine, “I give you my divine favor, Ryoumen Sukuna.”

You wondered if your favor was enough. He'd been gone some time, off to accept a duel from the snotty shitheads Sukuna had received you from. Apparently, having two of the eldest boys murdered rubbed them the wrong way. Sukuna was glad for it, you knew–the man lived and breathed for a fight. 

Of course, you stayed put. Uraume assured you'd be fine on your own, and Sukuna reminded his staff they'd all be eaten alive by the king himself if anything uncouth were to take place in his absence. It was more so that Sukuna didn't like the idea of idiots touching his stuff than it was the notion you were important to him, from your understanding. 

Regardless, the time alone left you restless. That king made you invincible. Without him, you were nothing more than the scared kit locked away in darkness, never to emerge lest your stubbornness trick them. But things were different here. Everyday was filled with unknowns and uncertainties when the two you'd forged fragile bonds with fell absent. 

So, you thought of how to repay Sukuna. Your divine favor would only do so much, after all–you didn't think a man like that really needed the extra luck, but he seemed more than intrigued by the manner of delivering the blessing; you remembered how he looked at you, eyes half-lidded, shielding you from the inferno burning out of control. He grumbled something low in his chest, just loud enough that you heard: 

You better be here when I get back.

“Ah–” The thrill those catastrophic words gave you nearly led to stabbing yourself with the needle. You tutted and regained focus, continuing to carefully embroider the sleeves of one of Sukuna's many plain black haori.

You learned how to sew and embroider from watching an elder from that clan work her magic on old, tattered clothes. She never spoke to you nor regarded you, but she never turned you away the rare times you watched her fix garments; you thought it was beautiful–the art of turning something mundane into something meaningful.

Though you wondered if Ryoumen Sukuna, the most powerful sorcerer, the most feared man alive, had a desire for anything useless and meaningful. 

The answer came quickly. You'd found yourself void of confidence when the monarch returned to his palace after (obviously) winning whatever duel he'd agreed to; you weren't sure if you were to congratulate him, celebrate him or something more. On top of that, he'd eventually find that haori you'd slaved over for days, and you weren't sure you could take the heartbreak of dismissal. 

However, those fears were quashed when, from a new little secret garden hovel, you spied the man donning the very haori you slaved over; it wasn't a flashy piece, you didn't want to subtract from the marvel that was the king of curses, so you opted for using black, shimmery thread to weave intricate twisting trees and blackened blooms along the sleeve. Only if the design caught the light would one be able to notice it. 

But that was enough for you. Knowing he accepted such a meaningless gift was reassuring of your place in his world. 

So, you finally let Uraume convince you to stay in the room they'd prepared for you. 

“No need to be nervous,” you hummed, that undying urge inside you to take care of something helping you soothe the young woman's nerves. You fixed her hair, your deft fingers carefully slipping strands into place before sliding a decorative pin in to hold it all together. You took a step back to appraise her, Sukuna's latest concubine. 

“I–thank you.” Sachiko blushed fiercely and bowed the slightest bit, not risking a deep bow for the fear of her hair falling loose. “I can see why all the girls love you.” 

You laughed, low and warm. “Well, it's hard not to love someone who takes care of you, no?” Gently, you tilted her chin up and leaned in, carefully examining the red lacquer staining her lips. The colour matched her kimono and the gems in that exquisite hairpin keeping dark locks at bay. “But I'm glad. I know it's difficult to find respite in these times.” 

Sachiko held her breath as she looked over the natural paint of crimson adorning your eyes. “I-I, um–yes, I do agree.” 

You hummed and carefully fixed the smallest smudge on the corner of her mouth. “Mh. So I hope you do your best to please him.” 

“I will!” Sachiko promised. “But–I wish to–may I give you something?” 

“Of course.” 

She gathered her kimono up in her hands and leaned up toward you. You leaned down, expecting a secret or hushed words, but perfect red lips pressed against your skin instead. And you were dumbfounded; you'd never been kissed before. You'd never had a lady show that interest in you. 

Sachiko got down from her tiptoes and hid her mouth with her sleeve. “Just for good luck!” She squeaked before bowing and hastily running through the doors where Sukuna would no doubt be waiting for his woman for the evening’s events. 

You looked at the doors sliding closed and caught a glimpse of Sukuna stood before the young woman, his frame swallowing hers as you looked on. And you caught a glimpse of his eyes, his stare of shock and utter vexation–clearly, he'd seen the short woman give you a kiss for good luck. 

You turned away, choosing to abandon the girl to her demise as your fingers ghosted against your lips in wonder. 

He showed up in your chambers later that night. You were still awake, quietly embroidering another haori; this time, it was for Uraume. They insisted they didn't want to burden you, but they crumbled under your more insistent insistence, and accepted the offer on the condition it looked subtle and muted. 

Sukuna padded toward you, hardly bothering to announce himself or ask to join you (ugh, how annoying) before plopping himself onto the futon beside you, sighing as he laid down. 

“I see you finished early,” you commented, jumping the littlest bit when large hands caught your flickering tails. He didn't hurt you, no; he was simply an overgrown toddler with a penchant for examining whatever wiggled before him. 

“That woman kissed you,” Sukuna answered, unhelpful. “Ruined it.” 

“Ah. Well. I didn't expect it either.” You cleared your throat, feeling an unexpected bubble of embarrassment rise in your chest. “I have…I've never been given a kiss before. Not from what I can recall, at the very least.” 

“The hell are you talking about?” Sukuna grouched. “You planted one on me in the gardens.” 

“Giving is not receiving,” you corrected, flicking your tail so as to hit his face. “I've never given a kiss on another's lips, regardless. Though I find myself wondering why I–” 

You yowled when he yanked your tail like he meant to rip the thing off, and you whirled on him, eyes drawn into slits and chunky fangs bared as you dug your nails into his wrist in an effort to make him let go.

Yet the king looked unfazed. He sat up and  tugged you closer by your tail, yank after yank, ripping an impressive collection of vexed noises from you until his broad hand caught you by the throat. You clawed at his wrist and forearm, scrambling to find purchase, idly wondering if he'd finally had enough of you and sought to put you down after dirtying one of his concubines–

But he kissed you instead. His lips were warm and dry, not quite soft yet not unwelcoming. Sukuna knew what he was doing, too; his tongue licked at your bottom lip before pushing inside to finally taste you and taint you from within just a little bit. 

Your grip on him laxed the slightest bit, and you even eased into his hold as he, too, refused to harm you further. If you weren't aware of his malevolent spirit, you might've thought him gentle in that long, simple moment–a special brand of “gentle” that was wholly Sukuna's. Kind, but jagged around the edges. 

He started pulling back, though, and you followed after his touch like a bewitched maiden chasing after the lips of a lover. You nipped at the air like that'd do something for you, but soon settled on leaning into the hand holding you still, even if your throat scratched and ached because of it. 

You found Sukuna's calm stare watching you when you opened your eyes a crack. For once, you thought he looked content; the cruel, mocking lines of his face had smoothed and relaxed, and that annoying, cocky smirk he'd been born sporting had been replaced with a placid, normal lilt. Even the inferno blazing in crimson depths eased into pools of yawning embers–warm and spirited, yet contained. 

The sight relaxed you despite the confusion it brought to your rationale. 

“That,” Sukuna said, so odd and quiet, but powerful and judicial. “Is your first.” His thumb stroked against the side of your neck, pausing to feel the pitter patter of your heart thrumming under his mercy. “It'd serve you to remember that.” 

You nodded shallowly. “Of course.” 

Pleased, he let go of your quite breakable neck and moved like he was about to get up. You grabbed at his hand and pressed his palm to the side of your face like he was cupping your cheek. Your insistence on touching gave the beast pause, but he settled again, content to let you keep him hostage for as long as you wanted.

And you indulged in the simple favour. You nuzzled into his palm with a very fox-like chitter as a bassy, quiet trill of a purr lazily rolled through your chest, eventually reaching Sukuna himself. It somehow had him feeling content. Relaxed. Like he was basking in the warmth of the sun. 

“I request another,” you chirped, and Sukuna quirked a brow. 

“Another?” 

“Kiss.” 

Sukuna twitched a smirk. “It'll cost ya.” 

“Oh?” 

“Give me another blessing.”

And you agreed.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Sunrise

soldier!san x soldier!reader

military dilf/milf agents working in the special forces au

word count: ~29k

genres and warnings: mostly angst, sometimes fluffy, smut (mdni), violence warnings, past trauma, blood and weapons, basically its war but san makes it better <3

synopsis: you and san are majors in the special forces, having trained together after your sector was occupied. you both work as partners in your team now, surviving through hell together and having each other's back. you think the idea of romance while being in the military is stupid for a number of reasons, but san thinks otherwise and decides to prove his point, making you question your beliefs.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we talked about ateez as military dilfs and this happened LOL)

“I’ve had enough of grown men acting like children,” you muttered to yourself, trying to find the scissors in the box of instruments, shuffling them loudly and not realising you were holding your breath until the patient in front of you helped by picking the scissors right out as if they had been right there the entire time time. 

“What was that?”

You glared at the grown man you had referred to now having heard your complaint, a faint smirk crawling on his lips as if taunting you- and perhaps, he was. You were acting like a child too. You were feeling like a child ready to burst at him.

You said nothing, only cut the gauze and secured it around the wound you had just stitched. His eyes continued to bore holes into you and you continued to ignore it as you took the ointment and a cotton swab, applying it gently on his grazed cheekbone. 

“You’re clenching your jaw a bit too hard right now, Major Seo. You don’t want to end up being unable to sleep because your jaw hurts… again.”

Referring to the time you hurt your jaw- the only time you lost your footing even in your own memory. It made it on your Top Embarrassing Moments list, and he was a part of every item on that list. And the fact that your squad wouldn’t let you live it down made it worse. After all, you had lost your footing and bumped into a shelf because Major Choi caught your eye when he was taking off his jacket.

Major Choi San. Your squad member but probably your worst enemy too. 

“At least I didn’t cut my arm trying to run after a cat, Major Choi.”

“The cat might have stepped on a landmine-”

“The cats are not that dumb,” you put a bandage on his cheekbone and intentionally pressed it harder than you had to, making sure this jab hurt with the one you had made verbally- referring to the time he almost stepped on a landmine after drinking. He had been grounded for weeks after and you had enjoyed every bit of peace that followed. “We literally have a mission in two days, Major.”

“Ah, don’t tell me you care,” Major Choi scoffed out loud and you couldn’t help but glance around you, noticing very well how the other nurses were eyeing the two of you while they treated their patients. You understood them but at the same time, you didn’t. You understood that most of them found him intimidating and for all the right reasons. You didn’t (though that was questionable too) because you two had trained together since the very beginning. 

So, why did Major Choi refuse to be treated by anyone else other than you? Was it simply to get on your nerves? In that case, he should know he was already doing a good enough job. Or was it because you two were the only ones who were still here, still alive, after spending almost a decade on the field together? Or maybe it was because of that one time you both shared a traumatic experience-

You didn’t care enough, you told yourself. 

“Of course I care,” you began, wrapping up the sprawled instruments on the trolley. “I will have to do twice the amount of work without you. And my risk of dying increases by a solid 14 percent. Of course I’d rather have you on the team.”

Major Choi rolled his eyes, getting up and wearing his jacket again, watching you close the medical kits and roll the trolley to a corner, shaking his head in amusement when you flipped a finger at him and went ahead to report him. He followed right behind you, wondering how to bait you into not reporting to their leader at all.

“Major Seo,” he called but you ignored him, knowing that ‘pleading’ tone very well. “Major Seo… Pretty.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you felt a sharp pain go through your skull. He was always making something up with your last name ‘Seo’, adding adjectives so he could call you something like ‘so angry’ or ‘so bossy’. You hated it and it had been a mistake to react to it in the beginning because he never let it go again.

“Say something like that again and you’ll have me presenting an exaggerated report. You won’t be seeing sunlight for a while, Major.”

“So feisty,” he shook his head and you stopped, turning to glare at him and he realised then, shaking his head furiously. “I didn’t mean it like that. Promise.”

You sighed, tuning out his rambling and knocking at the squad leader’s door. When you heard the familiar clearing of his throat as an answer, you stepped inside and the two of you saluted in synchronisation until the man nodded.

“Sergeant Kim, reporting to you from Squad 8,” you called and the sergeant scoffed.

“Major Choi got in trouble again?”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Major Choi decided to speak for himself. “I was… saving a cat from a landmine.”

“How many times have I told you to leave the cats alone, Major?”

“17 times as of now, Sergeant!” Major Choi saluted and you stifled a smile. The Sergeant asked you to report the damage and you did- it wasn’t too bad but if you had to go on the mission tomorrow instead of the day after like planned, he wouldn’t be able to join.

“If we have to go to the field tomorrow,” Sergeant Kim concluded, “You’ll stay back.”

“But, Sergeant-”

“And we better have clean rooms and a fresh meal when we get back,” Sergeant Kim glared at him. “If we go the day after… then you can join.”

You felt the Major shift from one foot to another and were reminded of the boy he used to be- when he was still Choi San and not Major Choi- suddenly feeling nostalgic. Some habits never changed. The Major cleared his throat and saluted in answer and you followed, leaving to go back to your rooms. 

You both walked in silence as you approached the dorms and just as you were about to part ways, you heard Major Choi clear his throat and you spared a glance.

“I won’t be staying back, even if we have to go tomorrow,” his gaze was steel. “You, of all people, should know that.”

“I don’t want to risk bringing an injured squad member who could be a liability to the rest of us. You know that.”

The Major stifled a groan but before he could insist, you continued. “Do you remember the last time we took an injured member with us?”

His eyes flashed. “This is only a cut to my arm. It’s not something that will affect our mission.”

“Your aim could be affected. Whatever, there’s no point arguing with you,” you groaned, tired and ready to hit the bed and knock yourself out. “You’ll stay behind if we’re going tomorrow, end of the discussion.”

“We’ll see,” he said and you knew he meant that there was no way he wouldn’t join. You hoped Sergeant Kim, at least, wouldn’t give in to him tomorrow. You really could not lose another squad member just because they insisted on joining despite being injured, no matter how small the injury might be. 

So you did the only thing you could do- pray you wouldn’t have to go to the field tomorrow. But you knew that as a Major in the Special Forces, you always had to expect the worst. You did not have the luxury of hoping for a miracle. All you could do was pray and ignore the gnawing feeling in your gut which was answer enough.

And it was not like your prayers were answered because as you woke up at the crack of dawn, you noticed that it wasn’t as noisy as it used to be. Already knowing what was ahead, you wore your black and grey uniform and got ready, taking a few deep breaths in the room before straightening and stepping outside.

It was awfully empty too- none of the others from your squad or other squads exiting their rooms with puffy eyes or tired figures. When you heard the sound of a door opening, you turned to see your own squad member, Major Yu, looking as confused as you.

“Where are the others?” She asked.

“Exactly what I’m wondering,” you frowned. “Did they perhaps dispatch Squad 6 last night?”

“Not when I was awake,” she wiped the sleep from her eyes. “Let’s go. We might have to prepare for the mission today, it seems.”

With a sinking heart, you both decided to go to the Sergeant’s office first and just as you had thought, the mission had taken an unexpected turn last night. The secret operation the other squads had been on for the past few days had been discovered and Squad 6 had been dispatched to help them, but they needed to change shifts now. 

“It’s getting uglier- the enemy won’t let them go so easily,” Sergeant Kim said. “We’re carrying out our operation in 3 hours from now, so prepare for it. Make no mistakes- but first… eat breakfast. I don’t want any of you looking pale because you didn’t eat.”

Major Yu smiled at that and the two of you saluted, about to exit when you turned. “Major Choi San insists on joining the operation.”

“He’s ready to go,” the Sergeant shook his head and you gaped at him. “He got up quite early today. As if he knew.”

Indeed, you spotted him in the cafeteria gulping down his breakfast as if he was short on time when he looked as prepared as one could be, dressed in his gear and loaded with weapons. You rolled your eyes, taking your tray of food to sit at the table next to him.

“All this effort. Did you change your bandages?”

The Major stopped in the middle of stuffing his face with rice. “Uh… I thought I had to change it later?”

“You’re going to the field, you fool,” you couldn’t believe it. “What are you gonna do, ask me to change your bandage when we’re getting fired at from every direction?”

“Oh, but you’d do that for me, won’t you?” He teased and you pretended to throw up, Major Yu laughing at the two of you as she joined you. “Don’t worry. We can get the bandage changed now. I’ll undress for you-”

“And, there he is,” Major Yu sighed. “I really wonder what you’ve got against this poor girl, Major Choi. You should go to the medical ward- we have to prepare too.”

“Then the bandages can wait-”

“Ugh, okay, I’ll change them for you, we don’t want them infected,” you muttered, already feeling done for the day. He always had to be so stubborn. You simply did not have the time to entertain him. You had things to do- but first, you would change his bandages so he could get off your back and let you prepare in peace.

You had to admit- you were slightly amused to see him struggle unloading himself and taking off all the complicated belts and ropes before finally being able to take off his shirt so you could inspect his upper arm. You shook your head. “That’s what you get for being over-efficient. You could have waited until I woke up, but no. You had to be present before any of your squad members.”

“I knew you were not going to let me go, so I did what I had to.”

Even though working in the Special Forces had turned your heart to rock, it still fluttered whenever the man in front of you looked at you funny or said something like this. However, your face didn’t reveal any of it and you prayed he wasn’t observant enough to notice. 

“Well, I can’t stop you now,” you sighed in relief to see he was healing up well. “Be careful not to rip your stitches. I’ll be carrying a kit so if you feel like something is wrong, you need to tell me before it gets worse, okay?”

“Yes, boss.”

“And stop being so casual with me,” you glared at him before taping a new bandage to his arm and securing it well this time. 

“I literally called you ‘boss’,” Major Choi chuckled to himself. You poked your tongue in your cheek as you glared at him- or tried to, but his eyes curving when he laughed always put a smile on your own face. He noticed that and said, “You’re allowed to smile.”

“Whatever,” you chuckled. “Be careful out there, okay? We’re marching to Sector 1. It cannot get any more dangerous than that.”

“I know,” his tone grew grim and you knew you were both recalling the life-threatening situation you faced the last time you were there- about two years ago. “You’ll have my back, won’t you?”

“And you’ll have mine,” you said and he nodded. “Let’s all come back alive, okay?”

It was always like this between you two- especially after that incident a couple years ago. You two may tease each other to death and be out for each other like enemies but you trusted each other the most out of anyone else. Time and time again, you both proved what being a team meant. The Major got up and opened his mouth as if to say something but shook his head instead, and you resisted the urge to ask him to finish his thought, instead saying you’ll join him in the office after getting ready and went to prepare for the operation in your room.

It was a mechanical process now- gearing up in your uniform which was so black you would become one with the shadows, docking up on layers and ropes and packing your bag with all the necessities- a medical kit, some food rations, water, your radio and all the necessary equipment. Lastly, you hid weapons everywhere on yourself where you could, the only visible ones the guns around your belt and a sniper hanging by your shoulder.

You went to the office and found Major Kang and Major Choi Jongho already present, chatting with Major Yu. Your squad- and naturally, the rest started referring to Major Choi Jongho as ‘Major CJ’ which started as a joke first until it wasn’t anymore. You settled down near them and said hello, joining in the conversation- Major Yu detailing the events of the morning to them.

“So I genuinely thought someone had died, or worse, because it hasn’t been this silent around here since the time Major Han said she found Sergeant Kim attractive out loud,” Major Yu said and Major Kang burst into his trademark giggle that made everyone around him laugh. “So I found her looking as confused as me and she had that funny look on her face- you know the one she makes when she either has no idea what’s going on or when Major Choi says something weird-”

You rolled your eyes. Major Yu had to be the most laid back person in your squad and sometimes you wished she wasn’t so observant. “Whatever Major Choi does doesn’t affect me.”

“He literally makes you almost cry, but okay, we can pretend we don’t see that,” Major CJ said and the others grinned at you giving them the side-eye. 

“Where’s he now, anyway?” You wondered. “He was up and ready so early that I’m wondering if he went to bed like that-”

“And of course you wonder how I go to bed,” Major Choi said, entering the room and having heard the last part, making you wonder how he always managed to appear at the worst possible timing. “I had to do what I had to.”

“Still, I think it’s too much,” Major Kang shook his head. “We don’t take injured people to the field. You know the rules.”

“But this mission requires my presence- everyone’s presence. We’re all going in, whether you guys like it or not.”

“Alright,” you shrugged. “If you become a liability, we’ll leave you on the field and return. At least my nurse duties will decrease by half.”

“And I’d have the room to myself!” Major Kang cheered and Major CJ grinned. Major Choi, however, was sulking deeper with every passing minute and Major Yu poked his elbow right where you had stitched it, making him scowl and you wondered if she did it on purpose. 

“Ay, you know we wouldn’t do that to you,” she assured him. “But you have to admit, the thought of having one less person to write reports about is very tempting to me-”

“Please,” Major Choi groaned out loud and you silently laughed, knowing they were all trying to raise his spirits before the mission because he was the type to get very serious before going to the field.

A few moments later, Sergeant Kim and Major Han arrived in the office and all of you got up and saluted your leader before he settled down with you, now forming a little circle so he could look all of you in the eyes as he instructed you and shared the details. 

“I’m happy to see all of you present and healthy,” Sergeant Kim glared at Major Choi who pretended to be interested in the very boring ceiling all of a sudden. “We’re leaving in exactly 30 minutes from now and we will be on standby at the border of Sector 1 before we go in to extract Squad 7. Squad 5 will take care of Squad 6 so if you come across anyone from Squad 6, you will take them with you but alert 5 before you take another step, is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir!” Everyone said in unison.

“Just like always, we’re splitting into teams- I’m leading with Delta and Sierra as Team 1,” Sergeant Kim referred to Major Kang and Major Yu who straightened and nodded. “Fox and Victor as Team 3, Charlie and Echo as Team 2.”

You being Echo and Charlie being Major Choi- you met eyes for a moment before nodding. Sergeant Kim continued, “If the two of you require assistance, you will call either Fox or Victor,” he referred to Major Han and Major CJ. “And if they cannot join you, then Delta or Sierra will. You’re at the heart of the operation, though, so be careful, okay?”

“Okay,” Major Choi’s grip on his rifle tightened- something that went unobserved by most but then again, you were familiar with every movement of his body. 

“And lastly,” Sergeant Kim sighed- you all knew how much he hated delivering the final instruction which was- “If any of you is indisposed, you all know the rules. Our first priority is making sure the mission succeeds- and this time, it’s to extract Squad 7 who hold important data with them. Help will come later, till then… you’ll be on your own. May the fates be with you.”

A collective sigh went through the room- it wasn’t because of the fear of being indisposed, but the fear someone else would be and you would have to leave them behind. That was the hardest part. Sergeant Kim got up. “You are allowed to request backup, remember that. I will be back in 30- check each other’s gears.”

The half an hour passed by in a flurry of light jokes, assuring taps, fixing some part of the gear and then waiting until Sergeant Kim arrived in gear and the seven of you proceeded to move to the basement where three cars waited for you with additional soldiers. You and Major Choi got inside your car and travelled in silence for the rest of the way, watching the expanse of barren fields until you reached the border of Sector 1. You leaned a bit to see the silhouette of buildings that were at the heart of Sector 1- a city that had once bloomed with life, now dead and infiltrated with terrorists. 

The city that had once been your home- and Major Choi’s, who was also staring into the distance with glazed eyes.

You proceeded to turn on the radio setup and connect it with the rest of the teams while Major Choi lazily cleaned his guns, sighing deeply in between. Once you were done testing your radios, you relaxed back and he finally spoke.

“Do you think we would have come across each other if Eden hadn’t attacked our home?”

You blinked at the sudden and personal question- another unusual thing from Major Choi today- you didn’t like being personal during a mission and he knew it. But the way you both had been stealing glances at what was once your home, you supposed curiosity got the better of him.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe? At some point of our life? Sector 1 isn’t too big.”

“I sometimes wonder if we were fated to meet each other,” he mused. “From being homeless to finding a place in the army- we have been together for a while, haven’t we?”

You pursed your lips- it still stung whenever you recalled the dark times. “Do you sometimes wonder what it would have been like if we didn’t make it in the army?”

“All the time,” he admitted, sounding grim. “But we… We kept each other in check. We still do.”  You smiled at that and he joined, whispering, “We’ve kept each other alive.”

“Or maybe you have been stupid enough to not let me die- not without you,” you pointed out. “I still wonder what went through your head that one time you disobeyed all orders, risked your title and stayed back for me when I was indisposed.”

“But you did the same for me so many times,” he cocked his head. “You’ve risked your life for me more times than I can count.”

“We do that for everyone in our team,” you reminded him, though you knew he saw right through you. “We disobey orders all the time. I’m surprised they haven’t shuffled us around yet. Also, can you stop being sentimental right before a life-threatening mission?” You couldn’t help it and you both laughed. “There’s a time for everything, Major Choi San.”

He raised a brow at the way you called his name and you looked away- you could never meet his gaze long enough. Luckily, the radio sounded with your leader’s voice instructing you all to get out and walk on foot to the base in Sector 1 with your designated members and routes. You bumped fists with Major Choi before securing each other’s helmets, getting off the car and following the familiar barren road to the outskirts of the town, careful to avoid eyes but glad it was very hazy today.

The two of you walked in sync until you reached the abandoned hospital which was your station. You took the lead, he provided cover and you entered the building, inspecting it thoroughly as you made way to the 4th floor and took out the binoculars to monitor any sort of activity and help Sergeant Kim’s team get to the heart of the city. A few hours passed like that, mostly in silence, occasional comments or instructions passed through the radio, and you almost, almost relaxed until a loud blast shook you to the core, making you both instinctively duck down and cover each other, trying not to lose your footing as the ground beneath your feet rumbled.

A whistle rang in your ear and you took a few deep breaths- it wasn’t the first time you experienced a blast up close but it always made your heart sink in the worst possible way. You felt Major Choi squeezing your shoulder- you were alright. He was alright. You motioned okay at him and he peeked up from the window to inspect the damage and you followed after a moment. The six-story building that had been two streets away from you was now turning into rubble. 

“That is Squad 6’s station,” you said. “Squad 7 might have been in there. We should move.”

Major Choi nodded and spoke on his radio. “Alpha- you heard that?”

“Loud and clear,” Sergeant Kim’s voice sounded grim. “Do not move right now. You’re the closest- you might meet trouble on the way. Wait for my instruction.”

“Copy that,” he replied and you both decided to move up another floor and see if you could spot the enemy somewhere. You did- a couple of men in cloaks leaving from the West Exit and you alerted Team 3 who went to inspect as per your instructions.

“We have about 20 minutes until it gets dark, and then you can inspect the damage to Squad 6’s station while on your way to the enemy’s base,” Sergeant Kim ordered. “We have retrieved two of Squad 7’s members. Team 3?”

“We have retrieved three of Squad 6’s members,” Major CJ reported. “That leaves one member from each team- Squad 6 here says they were last seen near the enemy base.”

“Team 2 will take care of it then,” the Sergeant concluded. “Meet me at the North Exit, Victor and Fox. We’ll take care of the enemy there.”

“Copy that,” the rest of you reported and you prayed silently that everyone would make it back alive. Meanwhile, Major Choi offered you a sandwich from his bag and you ate it while you kept watch, thankful that your station still hadn’t been exposed to the enemy.

As soon as the sun set, you put on your night vision goggles and started following Major Choi out, hands gripping the rifle. You both trod like cats- silent and alert. You reached the rubble of what was once Squad 6’s base in a few minutes and searched for any signs of life but found none. 

“They must be around the enemy base somewhere then,” you said. “Let’s follow their last location.”

Your partner agreed and you both walked in silence yet again, hiding behind walls and rubble until you could spot the enemy base in your vision, noticing a few men walking around it, probably on guard duty. 

“What if they’re held hostage?” You asked.

“Our mission is to extract them wherever they are,” Major Choi reminded. “We can request backup.”

“Let’s inspect the area first and then create a distraction before we move inside,” you suggested and he agreed.

All your senses felt heightened as you parted ways- mostly because you felt a bit defenceless that he wasn’t providing cover like he usually did. All you could think about was remaining alert and not missing anything, and you counted seconds until you spotted the Major again and joined him, containing in your sigh of relief because the mission wasn’t over yet.

“Request backup?” You asked.

“I’ll ask them to meet us right here after we’re done extracting the agents,” he said and you nodded, watching him speak into his radio while you tightened your gloves, buzzing with eagerness to get this mission done and over with. The two of you went through interconnected buildings and doorways until you stood outside a door in the basement of one of the buildings that connected inside the enemy base- some path they probably hadn’t learned about, if you were lucky, since they had quite recently changed bases. You were about to break the door when the Major grabbed your wrist-

Quite gently, you noticed.

“If things go south, you know what to do, right?”

You scoffed. “Who are we kidding, Major? We were never ones to obey orders- at least not from each other.”

Major Choi groaned loudly, almost in amusement. “If things go south, you will call for an immediate backup request, not wait for me and make your way out, is that clear?”

You did not like being talked to in that tone so you snatched your wrist and poked his chest with your gloved finger. “The last time I told you this… don’t even get me started.”

You both stared at each other, none of you giving in, his eyes locked on yours- the only thing you could see with the masks and the helmets. Your finger was still poking into his chest and he finally sighed, taking your hand in his and drawing it away. You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. “If things look bleak, let’s not make them worse, okay?”

“Okay,” his voice was laced with amusement and you glared at him.

“I won’t be surprised if we have to change partners soon.”

“I won’t let them,” Major Choi promised. “You’re the only one I trust.”

“What did I tell you about not being sentimental during missions?” You broke the door, grimacing at the loud sounds that rang through the basement. “Let’s move, Charlie.”

“Got you, Echo,” he patted your back and you both stepped into the darkness, wearing your goggles again.

Every sound from that point on caught your attention. You could hear the Major’s breathing so you trained your ears to ignore it and focus on the other sounds. You walked along the path that only got narrower with each step and waited a few moments at the door which was the entrance inside the enemy base, letting the Major do his thing and check for any signs of life with his equipment.

“Empty room,” he whispered. “Go.”

You nodded and began unlocking the door with a set of pins, humming when it clicked in place and you opened the door- or tried to, since it was blocked. Major Choi helped you push it until the gap was big enough for you two to pass through and you carefully stepped inside.

“You remember the layout?” You asked and he nodded. “This must be the only storage room in the basement. Where do you reckon they would keep their hostages?”

“In the basement… in the cells. If not, they’ve defected.”

“Unless-”

“Unless that’s their strategy,” he completed and you nodded, glad your partner was one to follow his instinct and heart instead of the book, which if you were honest simply did not have a few principles right. “Let’s inspect the cells first.”

“You ready?”

Major Choi mirrored your motions- adjusting his guns and fixing the daggers in his sleeves. “Let’s get the party started.”

After that, it was a flash of blood and screams as you both exited the storage room, exterminating any enemy in sight until you reached the cells and found one of your agents inside, a bloody mess himself. You broke his chains and asked his name and when he said his codename ‘Bravo’, you were glad he was in his senses.

“Where’s Agent Oscar?” You asked and he shook his head.

“They might have taken him for questioning- I heard the guards talk.”

You clenched your jaw- this was going to get messier then, especially with the Major already firing at the incoming stream of enemy guards. “You can walk?”

“Yes,” he said and you accompanied him to the storage room, the Major providing cover. You instructed Agent Bravo to follow the path to the exit where backup would arrive in a few minutes, handed him a loaded gun and secured the door after him. You joined the Major who had just finished with a fresh wave of guards.

“They’re onto us. Let’s make it quick. I’ll shell them.”

You nodded and you took the lead this time, taking the stairs and firing at anyone who was unfortunate enough to get in your way and you made your way up another flight after inspecting the rooms on the ground level. Thankfully, you and Major Choi only had minor scratches and grazes right now- nothing that kept you from moving forward.

You took a sharp turn but got pulled back as a bullet passed, missing you by a fraction. You spared a glance at Major Choi who gave you a warning look and you heard what he meant loud and clear- ‘be careful’. Before you could continue, he took the lead and you provided cover, letting him guide you both to the end of the hallway where he turned-

And found himself faced with 5 guns pointed at his head. You were outnumbered.

You paused as well, a couple of guards aiming their own gun at you from the other end. You clicked your tongue twice and your partner understood, raising his hands in surrender and you followed suit- but what the enemy did not know was that you had learned a few magic tricks when you were little. You never thought you’d use them in the military, but here you were, a grenade rolling down the hallway out of nowhere and you clicked your fingers.

Three.

The guards shouted and you rolled another grenade with a tap of your feet, the others wondering where the hell it appeared from when your own hands had been raised as long as the Major’s. 

Two.

Major Choi watched one of the guards point his guns at Agent Oscar who said a silent prayer as he looked up at the ceiling. 

One.

You smirked to yourself, clicking your tongue again. The guards in front of you took cover while the ones in the room shouted at each other, trying to come up with an escape plan now that the grenade was right at their feet but failing.

Zero.

You and Major Choi switched positions in a flash and while he covered you with his body, you shot at the 5 men in a series while the grenade behind you burst. Unfortunately, one of them managed to shoot at you and the bullet landed in your calf though your reaction only lasted a few seconds. You felt the Major’s body shake against yours as rubble fell on the two of you. You ignored the pain burning though your entire body and glanced up, sighing in relief when you saw that Oscar was fine.

“We’re exiting from the window,” Major Choi got up and started planting the hook to the wall and dropped the rope down the building, groaning when he spotted movement outside the building too. He aimed at them with his rifle and got rid of them while you took care of any approaching guards, finding a few moments of peace.

“We’re sliding down first- he can’t walk properly,” Major Choi had noticed Oscar’s mutilated leg. “You’ll follow after I give the signal, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed heavily.

“You good?” He scanned you, noticing the blood dripping down. You nodded but he made quick work of pulling a piece of cloth from his bag and tying it around your leg, securing the bullet inside, the pain dimming since it wouldn’t jab with every movement you made now. Oscar stood watch in the meanwhile, inquiring about the rest of his squad and you told him they were extracted, which made his eyes fill with life again.

“Let’s move,” Major Choi called Oscar and you went back to covering for them while they escaped through the window. You sighed in relief when your radio sounded to alert you that they had made it to the ground safely but the relief didn’t last long as a bunch of guards came in your vision and you hid.

“Come down, now,” Major Choi called and you took a deep breath, knowing you would have to jump a good distance since you didn’t have enough time to simply slide down the rope all the way down. As if Major Choi had read your thoughts, he was there to cushion your jump and the three of you disappeared inside the alleyway, trying to navigate back to the spot where backup would be waiting. 

However, luck was not on your side tonight. One moment you were jogging to the building in front of you and the next, the three of you were thrown into the air, the bright fire blinding you momentarily despite your protective goggles. For a few seconds, all you did was stare at the sky, wondering if you had died or if the sky was simply so cloudy that not a single star could be seen. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar groan that you came back to your senses and crawled towards your partner.

“San- Are you okay?” You managed to ask- he seemed to have hit his head somewhere, blood trickling down his forehead.

“I’m good,” he exhaled. “Oscar?”

Oscar didn’t respond and you panicked, crawling desperately towards the limp figure and found his pulse growing fainter. You began dragging him with Major Choi to the nearest cover- a big chunk of cement and you stopped, out of breath. You took off your mask and checked your radio but it had broken. You muttered a series of curses, throwing your helmet away in anger while you planned your escape.

“Take Oscar with you to the basement- backup will be waiting,” you hoisted yourself up so you could lean against the rock. “I’ll join you.”

Major Choi narrowed his eyes, taking off his own mask. “You can’t walk, can you?”

“I don’t think I can right now, but I’ll be fine- I’ll be following close, I just need to catch my breath,” you coughed, mouth very dry. “Go, now. I can hide.”

“I’ll come back for you-”

“Don’t you dare,” you seethed. “It’s already been a bad day. Just take Oscar to the backup and wait for me there- do not send anyone else.”

“I won’t leave you in this state,” Major Choi announced- a plain and simple statement.

“Just go,” you begged. “Our mission won’t be complete until we deliver Oscar back. I’ll be fine- no one will come and check in here for a while. I’ll hide elsewhere.”

Major Choi looked conflicted, glancing back and forth between you and Oscar until you nudged his thigh with your boot. He crawled towards you, throwing off his helmet and your hand instinctively went to inspect his injury, sighing internally when you found it wasn’t as bad as you thought. 

What surprised you was him locking his forehead with yours as he said, “I promise I’ll be back.”

Before you could respond in any way, he had drawn back and was dragging Oscar, navigating through the rubble and meeting your eyes, pointing towards north. You understood and made a note to yourself to kill him if you made it out of here alive tonight. For now, you were going to hide in the rubble and watch them until they were out of sight. As soon as they were out of your vision, you relaxed and sat back down-

And heard the most horrible sound of gunshots in the direction Major Choi had gone- so horrible that your entire being shook. You immediately stood up and took out your binoculars to try and see if you could spot them but it was no use. 

You sat back down, looking up at the dark sky- where had it all gone wrong? It was like they were prepared, like they knew you were coming. Was there a rat in your base? Or was it obvious that the Special Forces never left their agents in the enemy’s hands? Were they expecting you because they knew you so well now?

You were glad it was so dark that the tears in your eyes didn’t blur your vision- there wasn’t anything to see anyway so you blindly started crawling towards north, staying as low as possible- you weren’t sure you could walk without limping now anyway. You went from hiding behind one chunk of rubble to another, checking your watch and knowing you didn’t have much time until someone would come to check if you made it out alive. 

After crawling endlessly, you checked your watch- it took you about forty minutes to simply reach the end of the destruction the blast had caused. You hid under a rock yet again, out of breath and with trembling hands you took out your bottle from the bag and drank a few sips, storing the rest for later in case you needed it. You could see your surroundings now thanks to the faint glow of streetlights in the distance and wondered if you should inspect your wound- Major Choi had done a good job of binding it. You decided to let it be and rest for a few minutes before moving forwards.

Forwards. For how long? You were already feeling groggy. Your eyes were twitching and you weren’t sure if you could remain awake if you weren’t moving.

So you decided to move. You prayed Major Choi would come back for you and disobey every order because only then you could know he was alive. For once, you wanted him to come back, because if he died-

You heard footsteps and you aimed your gun at the source, seeing the silhouette of someone walk, almost limp in your direction- the walk looked strangely familiar-

You lowered your gun when the outlines of his body became visible- it was Major Choi. He was alive-

“I searched for you everywhere,” Major Choi whispered harshly as he crouched down and a whimper escaped your mouth as he crushed you in a hug. “I thought I lost you, y/n.”

You shivered due to a number of reasons- he hadn’t called you by your name in a very, very long time. The last time he did was to wake you up when you both had been hostages together and even that had been years ago. The last time he hugged you was a memory you had almost forgotten too-

Not forgotten. Pushed in the deepest part of your memory so it wouldn’t come to you at unexpected times.

You were amazed by how awake you felt now that his arms were around you, his hand in your hair keeping your face tucked in the crook of his neck. You sighed deeply, your uneven breaths synchronising. You tugged at his shirt and perhaps, it was a wrong move. Perhaps he was suddenly aware of the position you were in because he pulled back-

You didn’t want him to pull back.

“I-” you cleared your throat. “I heard the gunshots- are you okay? Where’s Oscar?” You heard him suck in his breath when your hand touched his arm as you were drawing back and you touched the spot again, finding it wet and sticky-

Blood.

“What happened?”

“They must have spotted us- they fired. The first one hit Oscar in the head. I’m sorry-”

“But you’re okay?” You asked. “Only this?”

“Yeah, but we lost Oscar-” his voice shook and you put your hands on his.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Oscar might not have made it anyway- his pulse was very faint after the blast. You’re okay- god, I thought they got you, San, I really thought they did-”

You felt his body language shift after you called his name and you wondered just how much you both missed normal physical contact, normal human interactions since only the sound of your names on each other’s lips was making you react- perhaps even more than the casual displays of affection. You shook your head, willing yourself to focus. “What do we do?”

“Our retreat spot is compromised,” Major Choi said, “I think we should head to safety first before we come up with a plan or try to revive your radio. Mine got lost.”

“Okay,” you breathed. “Where to?”

“North, I think,” he sighed. “We mentioned north quite a few times today to the squad. They should get the hint and find us there.”

“They should,” you agreed and he got up. You followed but stumbled on your feet and he caught your arm right on time. 

“Can you walk?”

“Let me try,” you said, looking around before taking a step and biting your lips so harshly it almost drew blood- the pain in your leg was burning you at this point. “I think I’ll be fine… after a few steps.”

“You don’t look fine… Major.”

You glared at him, taking another step and this time unable to control the hiss of pain. He tsk-ed. “Get on my back- it’ll save us time.”

“I’m sorry but you’re not in the best shape either,” you pointed out. “And there’s no way I’m getting on your back-”

“Major, now is not the time for the little game we play of who makes it out in better shape,” he took a step forward and you instinctively took one back, making him groan. “Get on my back- don’t make me carry you like a princess.”

“Fine,” you gave up, “You better run then. There’s no way they wouldn’t spot us.”

With that, you hopped on his back and he hooked his arms under your legs. Silently, he carried you all the way towards the north, never stopping to catch his breath though you could see he was struggling- after all, he was tired too. When you could see the North Exit gate, you motioned for him to go to find someplace to hide- there would surely be enemy prowling here after Team 1’s successful mission. So the Major finally slowed down and turned in an alley and you helped yourself down.

“I don’t think we should risk going inside one of these,” he said, glancing at the abandoned structures of what had to be houses or shops once. “We should wait until sunrise before we try something. Let’s hide somewhere- come on.”

He took your hand and you both trod silently, sticking to the walls until you found a spot where it looked like whoever cared had collected rubble there to keep the rest of the city clean. A shed roof lay on the floor, twisted, and you pointed towards it. San helped you walk towards it and you finally collapsed on the ground under it, stifling a groan. Now that you allowed yourself to relax, the weariness was catching up and making your head spin.

Major Choi didn’t miss it- he immediately dug into his bag and handed you his bottle and two of the sandwiches he still had left. You asked him to conserve the water, glad you had your own bottle and took the sandwich, though the overwhelmingness of everything was making you nauseous.

“Can I inspect your wound?” Major Choi asked. You shook your head. 

“I don’t think I can be quiet if you try to extract the bullet- I think… I think I’ve lost a lot of blood,” you gulped, patting your trousers and finding them wet. “I shouldn’t sleep tonight.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t,” he took a deep breath and you could see the worry on his face even in the very faint light. “Someone should find us in the morning.”

“You’re okay, aren’t you? Anything odd you’re feeling?”

“Just the dull pain now,” he admitted. 

“You shouldn’t have come back, Major,” you chuckled, finishing the sandwich and urging him to eat his. He shook his head, offering it to you and you grabbed it only to stuff it in his mouth, making him chuckle. “You should have stayed behind. I would have been fine- someone would have come in the morning.”

“You know me,” He finished the sandwich in two bites, drinking a sip of water. “I don’t like making it back alone.”

You clicked your tongue in disappointment. “It’s a wonder they haven’t fired you yet. It really is.”

“I could say the same for you,” he raised a brow, shifting so he could sit beside you, back resting against the shed roof. “You’re not any different from me.”

You didn’t answer, recalling the old times. For a few moments, you were both silent and then the Major tapped your thigh and you hummed to tell him you were still awake.

“Don’t fall asleep- keep talking,” he ordered and you sighed. 

“You’re better at talking. I’m better at listening.”

“Just keep talking, for heaven’s sake,” he shifted to be closer to you so your shoulders were touching now. “Don’t say anything out loud- only whisper so you don’t get thirsty.”

“Okay,” you coughed a little, clenching your eyes shut when you felt a fresh wave of pain consume you. You felt the Major’s bare hands snake in yours and you smiled faintly.

“You shouldn’t have joined the mission today. Things could have been very different.”

“We’ll talk about that when we get back,” he dismissed. “Tell me what you want to do when you get back.”

“Sleep,” you laughed a little and he grinned. “What’s the time?”

“Almost midnight.”

“Damn it,” you sighed deeply. “I don’t think I’ll make it-”

“No,” he squeezed your hand. “I’m with you. I’m not letting anything happen to you. I won’t lose you- not like this.”

“Whatever,” you shrugged though you had to admit you were pleased to hear it. “Wait- isn’t that what I said when we were held hostages in Eden?”

“You remember?” He asked. You two hadn’t talked about the events of those three very, very long nights you had spent as hostages in Eden’s territory. “I thought you deleted that memory or something- you never addressed it again.”

“It’s not a good memory,” you said.

“True… but some of my favourite memories are from those days,” he began. “I made it out alive solely because you refused to let me die.”

“Is that why you’re doing the same right now?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he said and you looked at your interlocked hands. “Maybe I like us as a team and don’t want to lose you. Maybe I like you even as a friend- after all, we’ve been together for so long, haven’t we?”

“Back when we were still a boy and a girl,” you recalled. “What happened to us… San?”

There it was. The unintentional squeeze of his hand. You glanced at him and he met your eyes.

“Do you like it when I call you by your name?”

“Don’t you, y/n?”

Something like butterflies in your stomach as his deep voice sounded made you suck in a breath. “Well then… should I call you San? At least for tonight? Just like the old times?”

“Just like the old times,” he smiled, looking ahead. “How did we get here?”

“We refused to let each other go because we were rivals back then, of sorts… I’d say we still are- but we’re better as a team than rivals, aren’t we?” You said and San agreed. “It would just be even better if you stopped being an ass to me in routine.”

“It’s because I love to see you all riled up,” he said, body shaking with laughter. “It’s so easy to rile you up.”

You yawned big and wide and San waited until you were done. “You with me?”

“I am,” you told him. “Tell me then- do you do it on purpose? Only let me treat your wounds? I’m not your personal nurse, you know.”

“You know my reason,” San muttered. “Otherwise you would have downright refused. You know, don’t you?”

“Because you don’t like to show your scars to anyone… And because I’ve seen every scar on your body since the beginning, haven’t I?”

“You’re the only one who looks without judgement,” he admitted. “You know I wasn’t always the best.”

“Look at you now!” you said dramatically. “The best of the best.”

“We are, as a team,” San pointed out. “You remember how bad we are when partnered with other members.”

“Ah, right,” you giggled and San looked at you in horror. “We don’t really coordinate with others, do we?”

“What is that sound you just produced,” San scoffed. “I wonder what other sounds you make, Major.”

“You want to find out?”

San looked away- how come you both had switched roles now? “Looks like the blood loss is really getting to your head now.”

“It is,” you admitted, sinking down a bit and resting your head on your partner’s shoulder, feeling him freeze for just a moment before he relaxed. “I don’t think I should talk anymore.”

“I’ll keep you awake with pain if I have to,” he promised and you grimaced- you had done the same to him once too. No doubt he would return the favour. “If I see you getting groggy, I’m going to press on the wound, you hear me?”

You almost cried- the pain was already too much, but you knew he was right. “Why are you being like this?”

“I would do this for anyone- I cannot let you die on my watch,” he announced. “Which reminds me- give me your radio.”

“Oh, right. Are you sure I’m not the only one suffering from blood loss?” You said which he ignored, crossing his legs as he started inspecting the radio remains. You lit your watch to provide him with better light and watched him twist wires and cut them with his teeth, attempting to revive it-

For a very small moment, the sound of static came through and you both almost rejoiced until it died down. You asked San to do whatever he just did again and he did but it wasn’t any use now. The radio was dead. 

You both slumped back to your original positions and this time you were the one who found San’s hand and squeezed it in assurance. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fine,” he sighed. “Stop considering yourself dead already. If you survived that moment when we were surrounded by seven guards earlier, you can survive the night too. Good work there, by the way.”

You grinned. “How did you know what I was planning? I was half worried you’d misunderstand the signal and get us all killed.”

“Oh please, when have I ever made that mistake?”

“Are we forgetting that one time when I was waving at you from a distance and you thought I was saying hi-” you paused when San chuckled.

“You were saying ‘get the hell away’, I know,” he shook his head. “I was just curious why.”

“You keep telling yourself that. The fact is, you made a mistake which got us both grounded for two weeks.”

“Yet here we are,” he scoffed. “Still a team. The best of the best.”

“Are we?” You thought out loud. “When we’re always at death’s door?”

“Well, let’s see,” San took a deep breath. “9 out of 10 missions are successful- that’s a pretty high rating for someone in Special Forces, don’t you think? And even if we’re compromised, we’ve never lost data. Even now, I retrieved the chip from Oscar,” he patted his pocket and you looked proud. “We just have to make it back alive now, so hang in there, alright?”

You were silent for a few moments, focusing on San absently caressing your hand and glancing at you a few times to make sure you were awake. You checked the time- there were still about 3 hours until sunrise.

San grunted in pain and you opened your eyes, realising you had almost dozed off. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said but you noticed his eyes twitching. 

“How bad did you hit your head back then, Major Choi San?”

He rolled his eyes but you could tell it had to be something related to his head injury because his other injuries were minor. “I’m fine.”

“Can I see it? Properly?”

“I said I’m fine.”

And that’s how you knew he wasn’t. You shifted, ignoring the pain exploding through your leg as you put your injured leg over the Major’s to get half on top of him and access the other side of his head- the one you had noticed he kept away from your vision. San grabbed your wrists in an attempt to stop you but you glared at him, tski-ing in warning and he gave up, letting you inspect it.

It looked like a normal gash and it had stopped bleeding, so maybe it was a concussion. You sighed. “Are you feeling nauseous? Dizzy?”

“A little,” he admitted.

You pouted, going back to sitting next to him. “Looks like I’ll be the one keeping you awake for the night.”

He laughed to himself and you joined. “You’re making it sound like it's an awful task.”

“It is,” you rubbed your face. “Let’s not fall asleep, Choi San. Your turn to tell me what you would like to do when you go back.”

“Sleep,” he laughed and you poked his thigh. “Okay, I’d like to get a few days off. Should I get you some days off too?”

“What will we even do in our free time?” 

“We could go somewhere,” he looked at you. “Remember Sector 6?”

You didn’t expect him to bring up Sector 6. It was the one time you both almost crossed boundaries with each other- your squad had gotten a few days off and all of you decided to spend those days like ‘normal people’ in the ‘normal’ sector- the one known for its lively atmosphere. The town that never sleeps, it was called. Somehow, you and San strayed away from the rest of the team and had a night you would try to forget for the next few years, the one you were still trying to forget-

It wasn’t even anything much. You two had drank and danced in a club. You two had joked about getting hooked up except you two couldn’t stay away from each other even when you tried. Whenever you looked at someone, San would make some comment about what type of a person they were. You were ashamed to admit you did the same to him too- so you two only danced with each other- 

Only looked at each other. 

Something had changed after that. You couldn’t shake off the ghost of his hands on your waist, on your shoulders, a comfortable weight. You called each other by your names and it almost felt like you two were only civilians, friends who were flirting with each other. At one point, he had hugged you and told you that you were the best thing that happened to him, though you were pretty sure he forgot all about that the next day, since he claimed he remembered nothing- he wasn’t good with his drinks, so you believed him.

Until he brought it up again, now.

“Sector 6?” You scoffed. “Why would you want to go there again?”

“Do I really need a reason to relive that again?”

So cryptic. You tried to make sense of his words but you couldn’t.

“Well, if we live through tonight, might think about it then,” you said, trying not to recall the things you had said to San that night. Things you wished he really had forgotten. 

“Do you think we’ll live to see the sunrise?”

You glanced at San. He looked weary- perhaps, he really did need a break. You rarely ever saw him look weary. You did not like him with such low spirits. You only squeezed his hand and let the silence fall- you were both too tired to continue talking anyway, so you both resorted to tapping out morse code. It was nostalgic to talk that way, though all you were tapping was curses and ‘awake?’, it made you reminisce about your time together as agents. You supposed you would let the memories flash by- after all, you might really not live to see the sunrise. 

The two hours following had to be the longest of your life. Your fingers were tired from tapping to each other, but at least that meant you were alive. You would occasionally drink a sip of water or shake each other. Sometimes you would recall a funny memory and share a brief laugh. But by the end of it, you were both so groggy that you had to press into San’s now ripped stitches to make him wake up, earning a groan that was too loud for your liking. You also made him press on your wound and you cried this time. The pain was nowhere near dull.

You didn’t notice the sky getting lighter until the rays of sun hit your face and you looked at San who was almost dozing off. You shook him.

“Hey. We lived to see the sunrise.”

San opened his eyes, blinking a few times and you watched the sun cast shadows on the sharp angles of his face. His brown eyes looked warm as he smiled.

“We really did live to see the sunrise…”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. All you two had to do now was wait for a signal- there was this new kernel of hope in your heart that you would make it out alive now- even if backup never comes, you two would make it out alive somehow-

“I wish to see the rest of my sunrises with you too.”

You stopped in the middle of shuffling through your bag, not having the strength to meet his eyes- you recognised this tone of his voice so well you knew how he would be looking at you anyway. However, you couldn’t help the smile creeping up on your face and you took out your medical kit, finally having enough light and the newfound energy to do something about San’s wounds at least. 

“That’s… not something you should be saying to me. You do not wish to see the rest of your sunrises with your partner in Special Forces, Major.”

“And if I do?”

You finally looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “I think I should have done something about your wounds earlier. You’re in a worse state than I am, and I am the one who got hit by a goddamn bullet.”

San chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and letting you take care of his stitches- he knew you were doing it not because it was necessary but because you would have something to focus on. Perhaps you were dizzy for a different reason now, in which case…

“You think I don’t mean it?”

“Major Choi San,” you warned-

“Look at me, y/n,” he called and you sighed deeply, finishing cleaning his wound and then meeting his eyes, your heart sinking at the way he was gazing at you. “You know I don’t lie. You know that. Everything that I say… I mean it. I really, really do wish we’ll be together for a long time.”

“You like working as a team that much?” You tried joking but he shook his head, his hand finding yours and snaking up to caress your wrist. You gulped, finally looking at him and the two of you just stared at each other for a few moments.

“Whatever’s going on in your head… don’t say it. Not now.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think I’ll be able to make logical decisions right now,” you muttered, taking your hand away from him with immense willpower. 

If you expected San’s spirits to lower, he was smirking too hard for that right now. “So that means there is something, isn’t it? How long are we going to pretend we don’t like each other like that?”

“San-”

You heard the familiar sound of a high pitched frequency and turned towards the source, San getting up immediately and taking a look around, spotting a black flag raised in the air- backup.

“Finally,” you groaned in relief. “Help me up.”

“Finish your thoughts first,” San hovered over you and you rolled your eyes, knowing there was no way out of this.

“God, you’re insufferable,” you laughed, raising your hand and he helped you up, purposely pulling you to him so you bumped into his chest and you smacked it. “I think you’re the most annoying person in my life, but I like you anyway.”

“Perhaps you’re right- must be the blood loss speaking,” he couldn’t believe his ears. Normally, you would have pointed your gun at him and threatened to blow his brains out if he ever said something like that. “Let’s talk about it when we get back. For now… thank you for being alive, y/n.”

“Thank you for coming back for me too, San,” you felt way too emotional all of a sudden. “I really thought something happened to you when I heard the gunshots- I just… thank you.”

The Major brought a hand to your face and caressed it as if it was something he did every other day. He planted a lingering kiss to your forehead and you bit the inside of your cheek to contain the sigh that threatened to leave your mouth. He simply smiled when he met your eyes as he drew back and motioned for you to follow him.

—---------------------

Your team leader allowed you to rest first before he came to check on you both in the evening, looking scarier than ever, especially having caught you both with ‘stupid snacks’ like he used to refer to them, giggling like kids with the rest of your team.

“Major Choi and Major Seo,” he called and your grins fell. Major Yu attempted to hide the lollies but was interrupted by Major Kang, who had tried doing the same which just made them roll dramatically on the floor until they hit the Sergeant’s boot. His frown got deeper especially when Major CJ chuckled out loud and Major Han slapped his arm to shut him up.

“The two of you-” he began, taking a deep breath. “How the hell did you make it back alive this time? I think I'd better like you dead now.”

Major Kang snorted. San cleared his throat. “Major Seo kept me alive!”

“Major Choi kept me alive!” You responded and he groaned.

“I don’t care who kept whom alive- you need to present a full report to me right now. There’s something I need to check. The rest of you- out.”

The team left with a series of grunts and more than one ‘boomer’ thrown at the Sergeant which earned them a threatening (but playful) raise of fist in the air. You began narrating the events, San filling in the gaps occasionally. The Sergeant nodded along until you told him about being cornered by the guards when you found Oscar.

“Did you perhaps recognise any of those guards?”

“They were all wearing masks,” San looked at you and you nodded. “I noticed one of them had a tattoo on his wrist.”

“What kind of a tattoo? Do you think you can recognise it if I show you some pictures?” Sergeant Kim asked and Major Choi said he would try. You continued to narrate the rest of the story and San mentioned the chip he had handed in earlier when they arrived. 

“It’s a shame we lost Oscar, but good job staying alive and completing the mission- both of you,” Sergeant Kim acknowledged and you both relaxed in relief. “There is a reason I send you both in the heart of the operation most of the time- it’s because I trust you both. It’s not that I do not trust the others, but the three of us have worked together for the longest- and we were once a team, after all- back when I was still Major Kim,” he smiled and your heart warmed- the Sergeant wasn’t much older than you both and the three of you had been a trio back in your early days- though you both always called him your captain anyway. It’s like he was meant to lead. 

“I trust you both to complete the mission no matter what, and I trust you both to make it out alive each time- even if it takes days,” he continued. “For a while, I’ve been suspecting there’s a rat around us. I don’t know which squad or who, but the past few days have been a sign enough that we’ve been betrayed- especially since they captured so many of our agents. I want you both to stay alert and wary of everyone- even the ones in your squad,” he sounded disappointed. “I know you trust your squad but you both almost died today, and I cannot help but be worried.”

You watched the Sergeant sigh deeply. “Is there anyone you suspect?”

“Not at the moment, at least not from our squad,” he admitted. “Or maybe it’s because I’m making a mistake of trusting them. Perhaps I’m making a mistake in letting you both know too. Maybe the rat is one of you.”

“Yeah, it could totally be me,” you began, scoffing. “I asked to be shot so I could pretend to die and do what?”

“Or it could be me,” Major Choi chuckled. “I went back to finish Major Seo but ended up using my last shreds of humanity to save her instead. Should have killed her when I had the chance-”

“I’m only saying!” Sergeant Kim laughed this time but you weren’t having it. 

“You know what- maybe he’s the rat,” you looked at the Sergeant and San agreed. “He usually makes it out unscathed. Wonder what that means.”

“You both know there’s a reason why I rank higher than you both,” he scoffed. “With the amount of times you get hurt, I should lower your ranks-”

“Sergeant, we’re just joking. I trust you both. I really do. And I trust my squad too, but I’ll keep my guard up anyway.”

He nodded. “Take some rest, you both. Once you’re back, I have another task for the two of you- until then, I’ll take care of it.”

“What’s it about?” San asked but the Sergeant waved his hand and left. You pursed your lips.

“I knew it wasn’t simply bad luck- there must be someone who reports our activity to Eden.”

“And we can’t even narrow it down since there were four Squads involved in this mission,” San shook his head. “Do you think Sergeant Kim will be sending us on a false mission again?”

“I hope not,” you sighed, glancing at your bandaged leg, thankful the bullet hadn’t done much damage. “I need… a break.”

San laughed at that. “When are you scheduled to get some days off?”

“In two months, I think,” you tried to recall the exact date. 

“That’s too far away. If we can’t have a break right now… we could at least get some drinks together?”

“You can’t even hold your liquor, Major,” you muttered and he glared at you. You shrugged, “I’m not taking care of you if you get drunk again. Last time was enough.”

“What did I do last time?”

“See? You don’t even remember,” you muttered, looking away. Last time, and the time before, and every time San got drunk… he was a mess- especially with you, and you weren’t sure if he realised it yet. “We could just go to town to get dinner. No drinks.”

“Come on, we haven’t let loose in a while-”

“Did someone say drinks?” Major CJ entered and you muttered ‘oh no’.

Because the next night, you heard a knock on your room around 10pm and you opened the door to see Major Han grinning widely.

“How’s your leg healing up?”

“Pretty well, actually,” you told her. “What’s got you so giddy?”

“We’re having drinks in Major CJ’s room,” she winked. “Even Sergeant Kim is there.”

“Oh, you better go then,” you winked back. “I think I’ll stay.”

“Oh no, you won’t,” she grabbed your hand and pulled you, making you squeal. “Sergeant Kim ordered me to bring you there.”

“No way he did,” you muttered. “Let me change?”

“Oh, you look fine,” she said, scanning your black tank top and shorts. “Absolutely ravishing.”

“Let me get a jacket, at least,” you laughed and she finally let go of you with a grin. You grabbed your uniform jacket and followed Major Han to the men’s dorm which was opposite yours, going in the direction of where all the noise was coming from-

It was a mess. Not just your squad- even some from Squad 6 were present. As soon as the Sergeant spotted you, he smirked. 

“Oh no. I’m going back-”

“No, you’re not,” Sergeant Kim got up and you attempted to leave but he grabbed your wrist and everyone else laughed.

“I’m here because I’m keeping an eye out for odd behaviour,” he whispered and you scoffed.

“You’re already almost drunk. I don’t think you can ‘keep an eye out’ for much longer…” you faltered when he glared at you- “... Sergeant.”

“I need you here too- you’re good at detecting odd behaviour,” he dragged you back towards the table and you sat between him and Major Kang. “Just like old times.”

“Just like old times,” you raised the drink he poured you, clicking with the rest on the table, Major San across from you, a flush already creeping up on his neck. “Just how long have you all been drinking?”

“It was going to be just us, but Sergeant Kim decided to join,” Major Kang began. “And then he called Major Yu- they’re boomer drinking buddies so they cannot even drink without each other.”

“I’m not a boomer…” Major Yu drawled. “I am the life of the party.”

You and Major Kang ignored her and you got into a discussion about who was the best drinker in the room- it was definitely Major CJ who Major Kang said had been drinking for an hour now but still looked fresh. You two began ranking the people in the room, occasionally passing a comment, purposely ignoring San’s watchful eyes on you.

“I think the worst has to be San,” you tsk-ed. “Look at him.”

Major Kang raised a brow at the way you addressed him- he had never heard you two call each other by your first names. In fact, all of you always referred to the other formally. 

“I think you must be pretty down on the ranking too if you’re calling him ‘San’,” Major Kang commented and you stared at him in confusion until it sank in. However, you could redeem yourself.

“I don’t think a Major looks like that,” you pointed at the very flushed, almost drowsy and very giggly Choi San and Major Kang almost choked on his drink as he laughed. San seemed to have noticed that and wasn’t having any of it now- he got up and went around the table to push Sergeant Kim away from you so he could sit with you.

“I bet he didn’t ask you to keep an eye out for something odd,” you scoffed. “You can’t even look after yourself right now.”

“I am a fully conscious individual right now,” he began and you shared a grin with Major Kang who was watching you two. “I may look red but I’m crystal clear inside.”

“Yeah? How many fingers do you see?” Major Kang raised three fingers.

“I’m not blind. Two.”

You hadn’t laughed this hard in such a long time that you had to put your head down, feeling dizzy for a moment. Major Kang was laughing just as hard, clapping along and you looked up to see San smiling at you.

“I know it’s three. I just wanted to make you laugh.”

“Ohh,” Major Kang looked between you two. “You can’t tell me something hasn’t changed between you two now, Major Seo.”

“He’s drunk,” you shook your head. “Everything that comes out of his mouth from this point on is nonsense.”

Thus started an argument between the three of you and halfway through it, you shut your eyes and tuned out the men on either side of you now in a heated discussion about something else entirely. You opened your eyes, wanting to rest your folded arms on the table but San was taking all the space. San, and his stupid muscular arms looking spectacular in his stupid white tank top-

Yes. You were definitely tipsy now. 

You definitely were, because for quite a while you simply watched the man crowding your personal space talk. You smiled at his little habits of blinking too many times when he felt dizzy or cracking his neck to shrug off the sleep. You itched to inquire about his healing progress- for all the times you complained about being his personal nurse, you sure were worried now. You licked your suddenly dry lips when he spared you a glance.

“You okay?”

“Move, you’re taking too much space,” you muttered, pushing his arm away with your elbow and he grinned. The Sergeant got San’s attention and you and Major Kang watched the others for the rest of the night-

Until most of the agents left and San was such a drunken mess that you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Will someone please take him to his room? Or just drop him here, I don’t even care,” you mumbled. “Just get him off of me, please.”

Major CJ was cackling. “I’m not touching him. He starts demanding cuddles.”

“Neither am I,” Major Kang was half asleep but not because he was drunk. 

“You both literally share a room, Major,” you glared at him.

“Jongho, do you mind if I crash over tonight?” Major Kang asked.

“Not at all,” he glanced at the Sergeant. “We can throw him on the couch, you can take his bed.”

“Wow,” you tsk-ed at all of them. “Traitors, all of you. Major Han?”

“I can’t even carry myself right now,” she said, almost tripping on her feet. “Why did Major Yu leave me all alone?”

“Probably to avoid this mess,” you muttered. “Major Choi San, wake the hell up, right now.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” he mumbled.

“Then get the hell away from me?” You glared at him in disbelief- he was using your arm on the table as a pillow and it was starting to hurt. “Go to your room and sleep.”

“Help me up then,” he said, not even opening his eyes. You looked up and gathered the last of your willpower to push his head away and pull his arm.

“Take his keys,” Major Kang tossed them in the air and you caught them, flipping a finger at him. He only laughed in dismissal. You asked San to at least cooperate with you a little and that your leg would hurt if you had to carry him, which was when he finally opened his eyes and straightened.

“You shouldn’t suggest drinks ever again,” you told him, hooking your arm in his and helping him walk straight. “Look at you. Such a mess.”

“You don’t look so bad either,” he grinned and you shook your head. He pointed at the room at the end of the hall and you looked around while you walked. 

“Is this your first time coming here?”

“No, but I haven’t ever visited your room since we got posted here,” you told him, unlocking his room and pushing the door open- it was pretty much the same as the other rooms but with beds on either corner of the room since he shared it with Major Kang. 

“There you go,” you tried unhooking your arm but he tucked it in. “I should go now, I’m tired. Let me go.”

“I don’t want to…” he pouted and you dug your nails in his arm until he winced and let your arm go. You laughed in victory, taking a step away.

“You’re supposed to heal me, not hurt me!” He rubbed at the marks your nails left but then stopped, admiring them. “You know what? I think I’ll keep them as a badge of honour anyway.”

“Wow, okay. Want me to give you some more? This time bloody marks, perhaps?”

The way San looked at you in that moment, his eyes slowly filling with mischief and lips curling into a smirk, you finally realised what you had said. This time, you were the one flushing and you turned to leave, muttering a bye but he caught your wrist.

“Maybe I’d like that.”

“You’re very, very drunk right now,” you laughed. “You won’t remember this tomorrow anyway.”

“You think the memories don’t come back to me?” He asked, his tone changing and you stopped struggling. “You think I forgot this exact moment? In Sector 6, when…” he pulled you towards him, making you face him. “When we danced all night long… just like this,” he interlocked his fingers with yours, his other hand finding its way inside your jacket to rest on your hip. “Do you remember?”

You were afraid to ask just how much he remembered. You weren’t sure you could manage to form a question right now anyway, especially with the way he was looking at you. You could feel your walls coming down-

All it took was him bringing your interlocked hands closer to kiss your hand and you felt the years worth of effort melting in an instant. 

He had done the same thing that night, in Sector 6. And you had almost kissed him and told him how much he meant to you. But you had been drunk, and you had managed to keep yourself in control, though you couldn’t stop yourself from saying things you regretted saying ever since.

You were drunk tonight too- though you were pretty sure this was the most awake you had been for a while. San still had his lips on your hand, his eyes glazed as he looked at you.

“We shouldn’t- I was drunk-”

“Then tell me you didn’t mean anything you said back then,” he scoffed. “Tell me you don’t think about us every night before you sleep. And tell me you’re not holding yourself back right now, because Major… I know you. I can see that you’re holding back.”

Indeed, he was familiar with every movement, every shift of your body like they were his own. He could read your eyes and your silence like you could read his. So when you didn’t respond, he dared to take another step and let his hand on your hip snake back so he could pull you closer, closer until you were flush against each other and you-

You couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, not without doing anything you might regret, so you did the next best thing and rested your head on his chest, making him freeze for the slightest moment before he relaxed and let go of your hand only to embrace you in a hug- a hug that made you melt into it and you wondered just how much you had craved this all along.

“Did I tell you how glad I am that you’re alive?” He mumbled, taking a deep breath when your arms finally went around his waist. You nodded, nuzzling the crook of his neck with your nose as a yes. He squeezed you in the hug before drawing back and kissing your forehead just like he had a couple nights ago. You inhaled deeply, wanting to stay in that moment forever. Perhaps he saw that- after all, this was probably the most vulnerable you had looked in front of him. Perhaps he wanted to test the waters- he kissed your cheek next, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“Do you still think I’m not in my senses?”

His words rang in your ears and for a few seconds, you just stared back at him, trying to get your brain to work and scream at you that this wasn’t something you should be doing, especially with someone you worked with. Not like this. Not now. But the silence in your brain was louder. You found yourself inching towards him, eyes fixed on his parted lips that looked like your salvation right now.

“I don’t want you to do something you will regret later-”

You ignored his warning and pulled him towards you, meeting his lips in a kiss. You drew back, finding him more surprised than you had thought- as if he hadn’t practically led you here with his own hands. You kissed his lips again, tasting the sweet tinge of alcohol- a reminder that perhaps, this wasn’t right. But you didn’t care. You’ve had enough of this. So you kissed him yet again, but he remained unmoving. You drew back and frowned in confusion.

“Why won’t you kiss me back, Sannie?”

It was like you calling him by that name undid something in him- he let out a guttural sound before cupping your face and kissing you back like it was the last time he would get to do so- and perhaps, he feared that it was. With your somewhat clouded minds, maybe this was just in the heat of the moment- for you- because he was so sure about himself. He had wanted you for so, so long and now that he finally had you-

You tried to meet the pace of his desperate kisses but it was overwhelming you, so you let him kiss you as he liked for a moment before breaking apart for air. You cupped his face, your heart breaking at the way he looked so unguarded.

“San- I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere- I’m right here.”

 “You’re here… with me.”

“I’m here,” you nodded with a smile, pecking his lips. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

San understood and then kissed you so gently that the butterflies you got earlier in your stomach felt weak- this was how it should feel, like something in you was becoming undone and you could melt right there, in his arms, and be there forever. You wrapped your arms around his neck to meet his lips better and he held you close to him as if his arms were the only reason you were standing- you realised it was true because your knees were putty. He made you wrap your legs around him and pinned you to the wall, making you sit on his thigh while he kissed you.

The way he kissed… you were absolutely losing it. The sound of his mouth on yours and the little grunts he produced were driving you crazy. The way his hands stayed on your waist, his thumbs hooking on your tank top made you shiver against him and he smiled into the kiss. And his tongue- oh goodness. He was incredible and you were wondering why you hadn’t done this earlier.

This time when you broke apart, he started trailing kisses down your neck and you shut your eyes in pleasure, rocking against his body, and when his lips stayed on one part of your skin unmoving but his hands gripped your hips, you realised he liked what you were doing. He liked you moving against his thigh. He looked up, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Just how long have you wanted me, Major Seo?”

You raised a brow, annoyed, and smacked his arm, making him chuckle and capture your lips in a kiss again, guiding you towards his bed where he sat you, getting on top of you and you were both grinning and about to kiss again when-

When you both heard the sound of click on the door and couldn’t do anything but watch Major Kang enter, humming to himself, and then looking up- 

And freezing.

For a few moments, it was so silent that you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Uh… carry on, please, don’t stop on my account,” he finally said, looking mortified. “I’ll just see myself out-”

“Wait-” you called but he only waved and disappeared, making you look at San-

And then you both burst into laughter, unable to tone it down, laughing as loudly as you could until you had tears in your eyes. San wiped his eyes, shaking his head at you.

“You really won’t be laughing like this tomorrow, y/n. I hope you will be, but I know you.”

Your smile slowly fell. You found San’s hand and looked at your interlocked hands for a long time. San didn’t ask what you were thinking- he knew anyways. So when you said you were going back to your room now, he let you- but not before he kissed you again and you responded enthusiastically- you really had no control over yourself tonight, it almost turned into another makeout session but San drew back.

“You should go. But when tomorrow comes… don’t tell me you regret any of this, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

He visibly relaxed. “Goodnight, y/n. I’ll come with you- I have to fetch Major Kang anyway. He might be traumatised.”

You chuckled, saying goodbye and going to your room and finding yourself unable to sleep because you couldn’t help replaying what just happened in your head- smiling like an idiot in love.

Maybe you were.

—--------------------------

“Can you stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Major Kang raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not looking at you.”

You paused in the middle of cleaning your bullet wound to glare at the man in front of you who was also in the middle of changing his own bandages in the medical ward. He stifled a smile but failed, opting to turn his back to you instead.

“Just say it. Say it and get it over with.”

Major Kang sighed deeply. “Look, I’m not interested in what you and Major Choi do when you’re both alone- ” You threw the roll of surgical tape at him which he caught with a glare but he continued, “-I really did not have to see that sight when I came into my room, Major Seo. That’s all I’m saying.”

Years of training did not teach you how to keep the flush from your face. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it before. ‘It just happened’- ”

“Shut up,” you groaned. “It really did just happen.”

“Don’t tell me it was your first time,” he scoffed and when he didn’t get a response, he gasped out loud, actually looking concerned for once. “It was your first time?”

“Yes,” you muttered, looking around and glad no one was in the vicinity. “If you’re thinking me and Major Choi are a thing, you’re wrong.”

“So you only made out yesterday because you were drunk?”

Was what you were asking yourself ever since the morning too. It was definitely not because you were drunk- moreover, you promised San that you would not regret this. 

And you did not. You were just confused about a number of things, especially how this would go on now. And you were glad the day was almost over and you still hadn’t come across San because you weren’t sure you could face him right now- you needed to get your thoughts straightened. 

“You’re confused,” Major Kang scanned your face with curiosity. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this confused, and I’ve known you for a very long time now. Something happened when you two were out there until we came to retrieve you, right?”

You sighed deeply, finishing bandaging your leg again and seating yourself on the corner of the bed. “I always thought that Major Choi joked around with me, but you know how he gets around me when he’s drunk, right?” Major Kang nodded and you continued. “I thought he only did that to rile me up or something-”

“He didn’t, but okay, carry on.”

You passed him a side-eye. “We’ve had a few moments in the past two years. Moments when I wondered if Major Choi was going to cross the boundaries of professionalism and do something that might change our dynamic-”

“Can you sound any more cryptic?” Major Kang sighed. “Just say that you like him.”

“I do!” You groaned out loud, burying your face in the bed. 

“Major Choi likes you too- you’ve just been too blind to see it.”

“I know.”

“Then I don’t see the problem?”

“I just…” you got up. “We’re special agents, Major Kang. Do you think it’s a wise decision to make? To be with a member of your team, of all the people in the world? We walk into death’s trap every other day and it’s honestly a miracle that we’re still alive, isn’t it? We’re on borrowed time. I just… I cannot make this more complicated than it already is.”

“Hmm… it makes sense,” Major Kang finished bandaging his own arm and sat next to you. “But that’s the agent in you speaking about all this professionalism and stuff. It’s not like the other agents here don’t have a family. Major Yu is a mother. You think she didn’t think about this before marrying a civilian?”

You bit your lips- it was true. Major Yu was someone you had immense respect for- she was balancing her work and personal life extremely well. As a mother, as someone with a family, she probably risked more than any one of you when going into missions. Major CJ was the only provider in his family too. 

“I think there’s something else you’re scared of… and perhaps, you haven’t figured out what exactly that is yet,” Major Kang smiled knowingly. “I think you just need to go with the flow. If you really think you’re on borrowed time, shouldn’t you be living each moment to the fullest instead of holding yourself back?”

That line stuck with you. 

It stuck with you for the rest of the day, making you wonder just what would be so bad about being with Choi San and what was really stopping you and making you so afraid of the future.

You didn’t try to find Major Choi that day but you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever. You did come across him the next day but it was with everyone else and it was very casual- as if nothing had happened between you two. You were arguing just like usual, met up with Sergeant Kim to get the files and data for your next mission and the three of you planned a strategy for hours until you parted ways for the night. You wondered if he had actually been so drunk that he forgot the events of that night when a knock sounded on your door and you checked the time, wondering if it was one of the girls who needed something-

And blinked twice when you opened the door and found Major Choi in front of you.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, looking around, wondering if something had happened-

“Shouldn’t we talk?”

Oh. Your eyes went wide and you pulled him inside, shutting the door. “You shouldn’t come here so casually.”

“Why? Major CJ comes and goes as he pleases- I’ve never seen anyone feel strange about that.”

“Jongho is everyone’s baby here,” you told him. “He’s like our little brother. We don’t mind him,” you grinned. “However, you coming here is another story-”

“Oh? On a first name basis with Jongho yet the first time you called my name in years is because we thought we wouldn’t live to see the next day?”

You scanned his figure- he was still in his uniform and it looked like he hadn’t gone back to his room at all. He had removed the bandage from his cheekbone so there was a dull graze instead. His hair was no longer combed back but messily falling on his forehead as if he had been running his hands through them.

“If you wanted to be called by your name that bad, you could have just asked,” you said casually, steering towards the small kitchen in your room and offering him a drink. He raised a brow.

“Should we drink again?”

You sighed deeply, resting your figure against the counter and ditching the drinks. “You came to talk.”

“How’s your leg?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you looked down at your bandaged calf. “How’s your arm?”

“What do I mean to you?”

The room fell silent. The silence was too suffocating. You did not realise how long you simply stared at San until he took a step towards you and you took a step back, watching hurt flash in his eyes.

“Wait, let me just…” you tried saying something to undo that moment, swallowing the anxious wave that spread through you. You took a deep breath and looked at the man-

The man who meant the world to you. The only person who had been in your life for so long and was such a big part of it. How could you ever tell him that with words? 

“Just tell me one thing, y/n,” he insisted, his voice low and so cautious. “Tell me if you regret where we are right now.”

“I don’t,” your response was immediate. “I don’t regret any moment of it.”

“Then what are you so afraid of?”

You looked away and this time you didn’t stop San as he inched closer towards you until he could hold your hands in his. “Tell me what’s holding you back.”

Your heart fluttered at the sight of your linked hands. You weren’t sure you could say anything that would not hurt him at that moment but there were some things you needed to address. “Should we really do this, Major? We’re special agents. We’re a team. You can’t tell me this is a good decision.”

“Do you think I care about that?” He asked. “We’re a team and we will continue to be a team. Nothing will change.”

“That’s a lie, though,” you smiled sadly as you looked at him. “Everything will change. Everything has changed.”

“Not for me,” he brought one hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, studying your eyes and trying to decipher the puzzling look in them. “I have loved you for so long that it’s become a part of me now.”

You shut your eyes, letting that sink in and when he took another step towards you, you didn’t stop him as he kissed your forehead. “I know you feel at least a fraction of what I feel for you. So tell me all your fears, y/n. I’m here.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” You laughed a bit. “I’ve always talked about professionalism, haven’t I? I’ve always talked about how unprofessional it is to have an intimate relationship with someone in this field when you don’t even know if you will live to see the next day. How can I do this and not be afraid, Major?”

“I mean…” he pouted. “You’re right but we’re still alive-”

“Major Choi San-”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he laughed and you were kind of grateful that he was keeping it light because you weren’t sure what sort of a mess you would become otherwise. “I know what you mean. I feel that as much as you do. But y/n…�� he caressed your cheek. “Every mission where we cheat death, I grow more and more afraid of losing you. And then I think about what I will regret if I lose you- not telling you how I feel about you. How much you mean to me.”

“That’s why I’m afraid, San,” you admitted. “I know one day it’s going to happen. I know why I’m here, I know how dangerous it is, and I have seen what happens when you lose someone in this manner. You know that.”

You were referring to your mother. He knew the stories about your family quite well- you told him when you first became friends. “This war is ugly. We’re here to end this and we will die in the process. It is our fate. We’re only going to make it more complicated for us if we do this.”

Major Choi did not like the way you thought about these things- time and time again, you both had been on opposite ends in this argument. He had tried so hard to break your walls and make you see life from an optimistic lens. He wished you could take a peek in his mind.

“I would rather die happy than to live regretting what I could have done for the rest of my life,” San said, making you lock eyes with him. “I would rather have known the taste of your lips, the feel of your skin on my skin than to imagine what it could have been,” he leaned down to whisper in your ears-

“And I would rather have known the sounds you make when I touch you, because god, I cannot get those sounds out of my head.”

Warmth pooled in your stomach at his words and perhaps he was good at triggering you to do things you wouldn’t normally do because you saw the opportunity and took it- you saw his bare neck and snaked your hand up to push the collar of his jacket to the side so you could plant a sweet kiss at the spot you had your eyes on- the spot that had made him squirm that night. This time, he was the one making those sounds and perhaps he was right-

You’d rather die having known all those things. Having known what he felt like, in every way possible.

San’s grip on your waist tightened a bit as you trailed kisses up his neck to his jaw and then caressed the scar on his cheekbone with your thumb. You were dazed in that moment and you did not want to think about anything else except the fact that he was so close to you right now, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body and it felt so welcoming. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, realising it might be your favourite spot. San let you have your moment until he hummed to make sure you were alright.

“What are you thinking, love?”

You sighed. How could you ever get used to him calling you ‘love’? How could you ever get used to being in his arms and feeling so safe? How could you go to the field with him covering you? You would want to shield him from everything. But then…

You have always felt that way. Perhaps he was right. It wouldn’t be so different.

You didn’t respond. You drew back and scanned his face once before locking your gaze on his lips. He got the signal and he immediately planted his lips on yours and you kissed him, feeling every nerve in your body ignite with pleasure. One of his hands went to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb caressing your skin and guiding you as he kissed you better, deeper until you had to draw away and catch your breath.

You melted at the way he couldn’t open his eyes for a few moments. For the shortest moment, you could understand why you were afraid of all the wrong reasons, though that did nothing to soothe your anxiety. It was only San kissing you again that made you forget about all your fears and let yourself get lost in that moment. He picked you up effortlessly and took you to the couch, placing you down ever so gently as he got on top of you. 

“I need you to use your words,” San moved your hair away from your face gently, searching your eyes. “Tell me we’re good.”

“We’re good,” you nodded. “San, please-”

San realised what you meant when he noticed the position you both were in- he was hovering on top of you but his knee was dangerously close to your core. His breath got caught and he looked at you again but before you could take the matters into your own hands, he held your wrists.

“Tell me what you want.”

You groaned, looking away but San wasn’t having any of it. He leaned closer, turning your face to him gently by placing his fingers under your chin and made you lock eyes with him. You watched his lips curl into a smile and he said, “Look at you, Major. You’re all flushed.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, attempting to hide your face but he was grinning, not allowing you to do so. You huffed in defeat, locking eyes with him yet again, trailing one hand up his arm and then down his chest to unbutton his jacket slowly. San watched you while you did that and then his jacket fell open, leaving him with a black tank top underneath. You were about to snake both your hands under when he gripped your wrists again.

“You still haven’t answered me.”

“I want you,” you breathed, propelling yourself forward so you could meet his lips and you pecked them. “I want you, Major. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, however short it may be, even though the rational part of my brain still thinks it’s a bad idea,” you said, letting San fall back on the couch so you were now on top of him with your legs on either side of him. “I don’t know how long I’ve wanted you for, how long I’ve loved you because I know I do, I just… never allowed myself to think about this, so,” you bit your lips, looking at him and finding his gaze overwhelming. His grip on your wrists loosened and you took that chance to place your hands on his collarbones, caressing them. “You mean so much to me. I will always be afraid of losing you. And I don’t know how we’ll figure this out- how I will figure this out since you seem to have the hang of it already, but…” you both laughed at that and you locked eyes with him. “I want you.”

San kissed you, lingering there. “Say that again.”

“I want you,” you breathed, meeting his lips again and opening your mouth as soon as his tongue swiped your lips, your arms going around his neck to hold him closer as you kissed. It wasn’t rushed yet there was a sense of urgency now that you both had bared your hearts to each other. And San wasn’t shy while making out with you at all. His hands were everywhere and soon, he shifted so he was back to being on top of you, which was when he started to trail his lips down your neck.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, fisting your shirt and you nodded, taking off his jacket first. He smirked, taking off your shirt for you and leaving you in a black athletic bra. He shook his head in amusement but went back to trailing kisses down your neck. You shut your eyes and lowered your defences- that was what he was aiming to do. His kisses were gradually releasing all the tension from your shoulders and you wondered how he knew that. His hands travelled up your waist and you opened your eyes, nodding and he wasted no time taking off your bra as well and when you pouted, he laughed, taking off his tank top.

“Now we’re even,” he grinned, looking shamelessly at you and you resisted the urge to fold in on yourself.

“No, we’re not,” you muttered. “And stop looking at me like I’m your last meal.”

San laughed heartily, kissing your lips and you smiled into the kiss. “You’re beautiful. So beautiful. Seo beautiful.”

“Shut up,” you groaned. “That joke is the worst thing I’ve heard.”

“It cracks you up everytime,” he muttered against your mouth, kissing you again and diving down, his hand cupping one of your breasts and playing with it while he kissed and licked and nibbled everywhere he could. You couldn’t breathe and you put a hand over your mouth as if you needed to stifle your sounds but he noticed that and held your hand away.

“Don’t be shy, Major. I need to hear you make all those pretty sounds.”

“God, you’re insufferable-” you began but he went to attack your sweet spot right at that moment, earning a little moan and then he smiled in victory, making you slap his arm. You decided that he had teased you enough and with your legs, you pushed him away to get back on top of him, your chests flush against each other and your arms around his neck, holding his face closer to yours as you kissed him deeply, rolling your hips on his lap and earning a loud groan from him. You grinned in the kiss but this time, it was you who groaned when he grabbed your waist and made you do that again.

“Don’t stop,” he pleaded, kissing you again and you nodded, matching his movements and finding him hard against your core. You weren’t trying to hold back your noises anymore and neither was he, and you were glad at least one of you had a room all to themself so you could do this without any worries. You gave up on kissing at some point and snaked your hands down his chest to the plane of his stomach, tracing his abs, and then down and down-

“Shall we take this to bed?” San suggested, stifling a groan when your hands played with the waistband of his pants. “You’re not shy anymore.”

You shrugged and he got up, making you wrap yourself around him, giggling as he made his way to your bed, dropping you gently. He caressed your injured leg. “We don’t want you to be uncomfortable, do we?”

You hummed, letting him take your trousers off and he got back on top of you, admiring your body and wondering where to start. You poked his stomach with your toes and he laughed, nuzzling your neck with his nose and you took a moment to memorise how that felt, because…

You felt so, so safe. There were no alarms ringing in your head. There were no sounds alerting you except the sound of his breath or his kisses which relaxed you. There was no sense of rush, for all your talk about ‘being short on time’. You wrapped your arms around him and he was quick to detect the sudden shift in your mood but didn’t say anything. He knew you were figuring it out along the way now, and he was elated that you even gave him a chance to prove that it wasn’t as bad as you thought. He settled next to you, bringing you in his arms and you placed a leg on top of him. His hands went to cup your thigh and your breath hitched at the sensation of his hand so near where you wanted him so, so bad. You fiddled closer and he kissed your head, letting his hands caress your inner thigh.

“Are we good?”

“So good,” you almost moaned, kissing his lips again. You wanted- no, needed him at this point. And you were glad he understood you so well, so when his fingers slid inside your panties, you shuddered against him. He caressed your folds, finding you soaked and kissing you eagerly as he slid his fingers up your wet folds, rubbing your clit once and you moaned into the kiss, pushing your hips against his hand to meet his movements better. He continued like that, just teasing you and kissing all your moans away before he finally slid one finger inside you-

“Fuck,” he groaned in your ear. “You feel so good.”

You didn’t respond, shutting your eyes and letting him continue like that for a while until he slid another finger inside you and you groaned loudly.

“Gosh, you’re perfect,” he met your lips in an open mouthed kiss. “Look at you. All needy for me.”

“You look like you’ve done this before,” you bit your lips, stifling a moan. “You’re pretty good at what you’re doing.”

“Am I?” He grinned, pressing his thumb to your clit and making you squirm. “I think it’s just because I know you so well. I know exactly how to get you riled up, Major.”

You rolled your eyes but when he started to stop teasing and start pleasing, you brought him closer, your kisses messy and needier now as he drove you to the edge and he drew back to watch you fall apart on his fingers, shuddering deeply and out of breath. He peppered kisses on your face as you recovered from your high and you finally opened your eyes.

“Shall I return the favour?”

San raised a brow before it hit him and he groaned. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if you decide to touch me tonight, Major.”

“I never asked you to stop-”

“Shh,” he scolded, putting a finger on your lips and you took that chance to kiss it, making him laugh in disbelief. “I don’t want to rush anything with you,” he kissed you deeply. “I will have you soon, I promise that. I should let your leg heal first. I know it still hurts.”

You pouted deeply and he settled next to you, holding you in his arms. “Just let me hold you like this tonight, okay?”

“If that’s what you want,” you said, content to be right there. There was no better feeling than this. “I will have my revenge soon, though.”

“Oh? Is that how it is now?” 

“Yes,” you grinned, “I will settle the score soon.”

San shook his head in amusement and you teased each other for a while, occasionally riling the other up until you both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

—----------------------------

You were starting to understand why people always choose love no matter what their circumstances were. You were starting to understand how they found love even in the darkest of times, because…

Choi San was making sure that you would never feel alone or sad again.

A lot had changed since that night. While working, you two were pretty much the same. He would still rile you up with his bad jokes (were they bad if they did make you crack up later?) and you would still threaten to off him each time. It was very casual like before, yet…

He still refused to get his bandages changed by anyone else and invited himself to your room each morning and night so you could play his nurse. In the mornings since you were short on time and had to get to work, you two would joke around or share a light kiss which was routine now- you still marvelled at how it had become something you could call ‘routine’. But at night…

You asked Major Kang later if he was lonely because his roommate was spending most of his nights in your room. He only laughed in response and said he couldn’t care less because Major Choi annoyed him enough in the day so he could make up for it. You tsk-ed at that, having missed the chance to use that card on San so he could stop coming to your room all the time- surely the others must have noticed now as well. But could you really put all the blame on him when you were just as eager to see him at nights as he was?

Perhaps, you were more to blame. He would come in your room with the excuse of you checking on his wounds, and each time you would end up tracing the scars on his body, kissing some of them and that would turn into a makeout session and more, until you were skin on skin. He would return the favour then- trace your scars but each time with a story-

“I wish I had reacted earlier so you wouldn’t have gotten this.”

“I wish I had been there instead of you.”

You knew that the Major had the softest heart since the beginning, but it still amazed you when he looked at you with such hurt in his eyes, as if it physically pained him to see your body littered with scars. You told him it was okay, that these scars were unavoidable and you didn’t think much of them, but he only responded that he found them beautiful- especially the ones you took for him.

“Oh? Can you count all the ones I took for you?” You had asked.

“I can. I bet you can count all the ones I took for you too,” he responded with a smirk. 

He was right. You could. You had his body memorised since the very beginning- you could trace each of his scars with your eyes shut. You told him that and he was pretty pleased to hear that, attacking you with newfound affection and adoration that sometimes you found overwhelming but loved anyway. Overwhelming only because you had pushed him away all these years and-

And because it reminded you of your parents. 

Your parents had been so much in love. Your mother would wait for the weekends when it was time for your father to visit from the army. She would become a different person in his presence and you had loved that about her. You often resented your mother for breaking apart after your father’s sudden death, but now you were starting to understand what she must have felt because you were sure you would be the same. However… 

She did not possess the power to protect her partner. You did.

You were thinking about that when San nuzzled your cheek and broke you out of your trance. “You’re zoning out, love.”

You realised that you were- you had been staring at the documents in your hands for far too long now. You cleared your throat and started arranging them again so you could get back to the page you had been reading before you got lost in your head. San watched you do so and asked, “Is something bothering you?”

“No, I was just thinking about a few things,” you said, remembering where your train of thoughts started when you found the page. “Look- that’s Agent Golf, right? From Squad 6?”

“Major Lee, yes,”  San scanned the page. “From that damned mission two years ago.”

You recalled that very well- the agents here still referred to that incident because everyone thought it had been a mistake to take an injured agent to the field. Sure, you needed manpower at that time and every soldier counted, but… 

You all could still have avoided Major Lee’s death.

“I don’t remember him much, I’m sure you’ve interacted with him more,” you began and San nodded in agreement, “Was he close to his squad members? Like we are?”

“He was one of the older members,” San recalled. “So I’m sure his juniors depended on him a lot.”

“Did they ever find his body? I remember the funeral but I remember they didn’t find a body.”

“I’ll have to ask Sergeant Kim. What are you thinking?”

“I’m just wondering…” you began, your gut feeling making you confused. “I’m wondering if he is still alive.”

“If he was…” San shifted towards you. “I’m sure someone would have gone to retrieve him or he would have found his way back. It’s been two years.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you shook your head and put the page back inside the folder. “It’s sad. We don’t even know if he had a family.”

“I’m sure his squad members will be taking care of that,” San placed his hand on your shoulder, rubbing it assuringly. “What’s really bothering you, love?”

You passed him a side-eye as you smiled. He knew you too well. “Nothing. I just don’t like the idea of performing a background check on people we are supposed to trust. I don’t like the idea that there is a rat among us.”

San could understand. “I’m more surprised than mad. I don’t know why anyone would choose to do that- when Eden has destroyed our home and families.”

“Right? I’m trying to look into why anyone would do that in the first place. That way we would be able to narrow down our suspects.”

“And is that why you were looking into Major Lee? Do you think he might be alive?”

“I was probably overthinking,” you sighed, cracking your neck. “I’ll look into the rest later. Do you want some tea? Coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” San said and you nodded, kissing his temple and getting up to go to the kitchen. Today had been a long day and you were getting tired of suspecting everyone around you- at least not your squad. They could never do that. 

You were just mixing up different blends of coffee when you felt arms wrap around your waist and you jumped, making San laugh. “I didn’t even hear you!”

“I wasn’t trying to be silent. You’re too lost in your head tonight,” San kissed the top of your head. “Long day?”

“Since I can’t go to the field for a while, Major Yu is making me do all her paperwork while she goes in my place,” you sighed. “I like being in the field better. I can’t sit at the desk all day.”

“I miss you too,” San muttered and you laughed, trying to grab the sugar pot but San just held you closer, resting his head against yours. “I miss being on the field with you. I had to partner up with Major Yu- she couldn’t stop cracking jokes through the radio- I almost got caught because of her twice.”

“I think that’s how she copes,” you giggled. “And you better be careful. I’m done nursing your wounds.”

“Are you?” San backed away only to stare at you. “Because I distinctly recall you kissing all my wounds a couple nights ago-”

You smacked his chest, asking him to back away if he wanted his coffee, but when he swung you around whilst tickling you, you were positive your laugh must have rang throughout the dorms and you put a hand over your mouth when he placed you on the counter.

“Major Choi San, the entire dorm must have heard my laugh-”

San shut you up with a kiss, catching you by surprise. However, you were quick to melt into it, the butterflies in your stomach wild. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss and when he broke apart, he watched you as you caught your breath, your lashes fluttering while you gazed at his lips- he was driving you insane. 

“You know how much I love it when you laugh, don’t you?”

You sighed internally- the Major was pretty direct with his words and feelings. No beating around the bush- not from him. Sometimes, you appreciated that because he was so clear and straightforward with you, no room left for confusion.

But at times when he said things like these…

San smiled, watching your cheeks get flushed. “You know… I never thought it was that simple to make you blush. With just words. You never blush when we make out or have sex, but…”

“What can I say? I’m not hard to please,” you laughed a bit, burying your face in his neck, still shy from his sudden comment. “Maybe you should have tried that instead of teasing me all this time.”

San hummed in agreement, running his hands down your arms and then snaking them inside your shirt to hold you at your waist. You kissed his neck in response, fisting his shirt and looking up at him. “This needs to go.”

“Oh?” San scoffed. “Not tired anymore, are you?”

“Oh, I still am,” you helped him take off his T-shirt, running your hands across the smooth planes of his chest. “I’m just waiting for you to do something about it.” 

“And? What would you like me to do about it?” San brought his hand up to your face to caress it as he looked at you lovingly, tracing the curves and edges of your face and sliding a thumb across your lips, a faint hint of smirk on his own lips as he slid his thumb inside your mouth. You pretended to bite him, making him grin but then you sucked on it until he looked pleased. He traced it across your lower lip again before kissing you softly.

“Words, love. I need your words.”

“You can do whatever you want to me-”

“That’s pretty vague,” San cocked his head. “I could leave you right here and go back to sleep.”

“Well then,” you huffed. “Why don’t you bend me over and fuck me? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Ah, that’s better,” San started taking off your clothes until you were in your panties only. You watched him take in the sight- he always did that. His eyes would travel everywhere along your body as he ran his rough palms across them, and then he would start kissing your neck, peppering kisses anywhere he liked until you were squirmy and needy for him. It was as if he aimed to please you and you alone- he wouldn’t let you have your way until he was done with you.

You clenched your thighs as he stopped sucking on the crook of your neck and he noticed, raising a brow. “Already needy for me?”

“Do something about it,” you said through gritted teeth and he let his hands run down your sides until he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. You spread your legs for him, your core throbbing painfully now- and perhaps, he could see it on how you furrowed your brows. San rubbed at your clothed clit and you moaned loudly-

And that was his undoing. He dragged you closer and slid his fingers under your panties, sliding them along your wet folds and sliding his tongue in your mouth simultaneously, making you grip his shoulders as he kissed you. You lifted yourself up so he could take off your panties and he did, bending down to slide them off your legs and gripping your thighs afterwards, spreading them to see the mess he had made-

“In just a few minutes… you really want me that bad?” He commented and you groaned.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, you will,” he promised, trailing kisses up your thighs and keeping them apart before his lips reached dangerously close to your core. He looked up at you once, settling on his knees before licking up a stripe and you cursed loudly, one hand supporting you up while the other automatically went to grip San’s hair-

Oh, how he loved that. He licked up again before his tongue dived inside you and his thumb started rubbing slow, slow and steady circles on your clit. It was too much and at the same time, it was not enough- you wanted him impossibly closer to you. He was driven by your moans and he was so good at what he was doing. You tried clenching your thighs but he wouldn’t let you. You moaned shamelessly when his nose rubbed against your clit as he shifted his position and at this point, he was practically making out with your clit. 

“San, please,” you begged. “I’m so close.”

He only hummed, inserting a finger inside you- he had done this enough times now to know exactly what drove you to the edge. The combination of his finger inside you, his nose rubbing against your clit and his tongue lapping your juices while he hummed against you drove you to your high and you tugged at his hair as you broke apart, clenching your thighs against his face but he did not stop- he continued with his ministrations until you were spent and you recovered from your orgasm. When he finally looked up at you, he grinned and you chuckled to yourself, running your hands through his hair. He got up and wiped his mouth with his hand.

“You’re delicious.”

“Shut up,” you smacked his chest but he shook his head, capturing your lips in an open mouthed kiss and diving his tongue inside so you could taste yourself on him and the way he kissed you, gripping your neck and hips and scooting you closer so you spread your legs and met his hard bulge made warmth pool in your stomach again for what was in store next.

“I’m nowhere near done, as you can already tell,” he muttered, tucking your hair back before taking out a condom from his pocket and shrugging down his trousers and boxers, his hard length swollen and ready to take you. You licked your lips at the sight and he noticed that, shaking his head in amusement as he pumped himself a few times before wrapping the condom around his length.

“Fuck me, San.”

“What?” 

“Fuck me, Major Choi San,” you said, not a shred of exhaustion in you as you wrapped your legs around his waist and brought him closer, his length wedged between the two of you. “I want you to fuck me right here, hard.”

San growled in your ear, biting your earlobe in response and positioning his cock to meet your wet folds, rubbing it against them a few times before sliding it inside you and you helped position yourself better, letting out a deep breath once he was fully wedged inside you-

And then he pumped himself in you- hard. 

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and he started pumping his length in and out of you, kissing you anywhere his mouth could meet in between, your hands running across his back, chest, waist, and gripping at his hips. 

“Harder, San. Harder,” you begged. “I don’t want you to be soft this time.”

“Babe, do you want me to break you?” San asked, slowing down.

“Yes,” you breathed, kissing his lips. “Break me.”

San groaned, placing his hand on your neck and pushing you back until you were flat on the counter and you decided you liked this position better already, until-

Until he placed your legs on his shoulders and started pumping into you and your moans got uncontrollably loud, his length hitting you so deep in places you hadn’t discovered earlier.

“You like this, huh?” San groaned. “Want me to use you like a ragdoll?”

You only moaned in response, already close even though he seemed nowhere near done and you wondered if you really should have asked for this- though the pleasure now was nothing like what you had before. He took your hand and placed it on your stomach, pressing it so you could feel him pumping in and out of you, while his other hand remained on your neck, occasionally squeezing it lightly making your walls clench around him uncontrollably. 

“So tight for me,” San grunted, “Always so tight for me.”

“I’m so close-”

As soon as you said that, San squeezed the sides of your neck and pumped deeply into you, making you break apart with a loud moan, the orgasm heightened thanks to his hand on your neck. He continued for a few moments until he, too, groaned loudly and reached his orgasm, shaking as his body rested on top of you. 

You both stayed like that for a few moments with you caressing his head. When he recovered, he started peppering soft kisses all over your face, making you giggle. He drew back to lock eyes with you, and before he could say anything-

“I love you so much.”

His eyes went a little wide at the sudden confession. He smiled, pecking your lips. “I love you too. I’m glad you finally caved in, y/n. I’m glad you’re mine.”

“Hmm, you might need to be a little more convincing…”

San raised a brow, laughing loudly at your suggestion. He snatched a few tissues from the table and started cleaning your thighs.

“Next time you say that you’re tired,” he began. “I’ll understand that you just mean you want to be fucked-”

“San!” You laughed, getting up from the counter and down on the floor, your legs wobbly and you instinctively held on to him.

“You were saying?”

You glared at the man, smacking his chest as you muttered you were going to the shower. He shook his head, deciding to follow you there too.

—----------------------------

“Route 2 is clear, Team 1 please proceed forward,” you said into the radio, switching your position to the other window, making sure Team 1’s exit point was also clear. You heard a ‘copy that’ confirmation and zoomed in on the exit. 

“All clear on the West Exit. Team 2, please report your status?”

“We’re ready,” Major Choi’s voice sounded.

“Copy that. Proceed to the West Exit from Route 4. Team 3, I need confirmation for data retrieval?”

“Data retrieved,” Major Han responded. 

You moved to the other end of the room, signalling Major Yeom to keep watch on the West Exit while you checked Team 3’s route. After confirming a clear path, you called in the radio, “Team 3 towards North Exit- avoid Route 3. I spot movement.”

“Copy that,” Major Han confirmed and you watched for any signs of movement. All seemed clear and you allowed your shoulders to relax a bit, taking a deep breath. You switched positions with Major Yeom again, asking if everything seemed okay and he reported that it did.

“Team 1 has exited,” Sergeant Kim called. 

“Copy that,” you finally spotted Team 2 not far behind, Major Choi and Major Yu walking stealthily towards the gate, the enemy guard having disappeared to switch rotations. You watched them exit and exhaled another breath of relief.

“I’m spotting movement on the North Exit,” Major Yeom called and you waited until Team 2 was safely outside and signalled their exit before joining Major Yeom across the room. You zoomed in with your binoculars and indeed, three guards seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. You frowned, “Where did they come from?”

“I spotted them around that building,” Major Yeom pointed, turning on his radio and you nodded. He called, “Team 3, please halt. Proceed to find shelter- movement spotted near the North Exit at your 10 o’clock.”

“Copy that,” Major CJ answered. Major Yeom alerted the Squad 6 members waiting for Team 3 at the North Exit and you dared to ask him something.

“How has your squad been holding up after Agent Oscar?”

Major Yeom slowly brought the binoculars down, glancing at you for a moment. “Uh… we’re holding up okay, for the most part. It’s not the first time this happened after all.”

You felt a sharp sting at his words but you knew what he meant. He was probably talking about the past members such as Major Lee and the others. “I know. Somehow… you get used to being okay. You just have to be.”

“Yeah…” Major Yeom switched his binoculars. “You… you saved Agent Bravo, right?”

“Agent Oscar too,” you pointed out, sparing him a glance. “Before the enemy fired and we lost Oscar. He wasn’t in the best state anyway- I think he lost his leg.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think they do to you when they capture you, Major?” You asked, not waiting for his response as you guided Team 3 to switch buildings. “Agent Oscar was unfortunate enough to be questioned by the enemy. They were getting answers out of him when we arrived- Major Choi and I.”

“I… I did not know that,” Major Yeom sighed. 

“Team 3?” You called into the radio. “I think you have a tail.”

“Shall we split?” Major CJ asked.

“No, it’s better to stick together,” you answered, asking Major Yeom to guide Team 3 to the North Exit or steer them towards the West Exit while you went to the other corner of the room and took out the radio meant for you and the Sergeant only.

“Sergeant?”

“I’m here,” Sergeant Kim sounded grim already. “Team 3 has a tail?”

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” You asked, making sure to keep your voice low.

“I’m going to inspect everyone who’s back. I don’t care anymore,” Sergeant Kim began but you bit your lips in thought.

“Wait- not yet,” you told him. “It would make it too obvious. Let’s wait until we get back and we’ll see what we have to do.”

Sergeant Kim did not respond for a few seconds but then he gave you an okay and you went back to join Major Yeom. The Team was being guided to the North Exit now and you resorted to watching Major Yeom plan out a new route. You occasionally quipped in and it took another half an hour for Team 3 to make a safe exit at north and you finally sat down and drank water.

“Good job, Major,” you said and he passed a smile, nodding. “I’m wondering why they were being tailed. Nobody spotted them during the mission.”

“Maybe they watched and decided to confront them later,” Major Yeom shrugged and you agreed, though you highly doubted that. You both packed your gear and started to exit out of the building, going inside the basement and walking in silence along the path that connected to a building right outside the West Exit. Bumping fists with the Major after making it through, you walked to your car where Sergeant Kim awaited, looking-

“Very grumpy. You’re making it too obvious.”

“I can’t help it,” he said. “There is a rat in our base who knew we were going to be here today. Who knew exactly what our plan was.”

“Let’s talk about it when we get back,” you whispered, patting his arm and going to Major Choi who was waving at you, looking rather cheerful.

“What’s got you in a good mood today?”

“Ask her,” San pointed at Major Yu who was in a heated discussion with Major Kang. You stood next to San, listening to their discussion and smacking San’s thigh when he tried holding your hand. 

“-so I asked my husband if he could really get me some tickets to the festival. And he’s such a sweetheart- it was tough but he managed to get exactly 7 tickets for the 7 of us!” Major Yu grinned. “So we’re scheduling our vacation next month and all going to Sector 6. I don’t care if you have to go see your families or friends- you all are coming with me to Sector 6 first before you go home.”

Major Kang got up and saluted her dramatically, making everyone laugh. You looked at San who already had a shit-eating grin on his face. You leaned closer, “I know what’s going on in your head right now. Cleanse your brain.”

“Not a chance,” he blew a kiss and you swatted it, making a face, Major Kang noticing and pretending to throw up. Sergeant Kim ordered everyone to get inside the car and you began your way back to the base. During the ride, you kept replaying the events of this mission in your head, wondering how the enemy knew exactly where Team 3 was. There had to be someone who told the enemy about the mission and you felt nauseous at the thought that it could be someone you knew.

You met up with Major CJ and Major Han when you got back to the base and found them just as confused as you. Sergeant Kim was wise enough to not let the confusion spread any further, calling them in his office for individual reports. Meanwhile, San and you casually moved to a corner and he asked you what was up.

“Our mission almost got compromised today, San,” you admitted and he frowned. “Team 3 got a tail right when they were about to exit- we had to reroute them. Someone knew Team 3’s exact location, our routes, our exit points. We’ve been compromised, San. And I’m wondering how long this has been going- if we really could have saved more people had we found out earlier.”

San pursed his lips in thought. “Does Sergeant Kim know?” 

“Yeah, he caught on just as I did,” you nodded. “We need to do something about this before they retaliate, the enemy. Because if they’ve been gathering information so far… I think they’ll strike soon, and it’s making me so worried-”

“Shh, it’s okay,” San came forward and wrapped you in a hug, not caring if anyone saw. You didn’t care either, simply relaxing in his arms. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? I think today’s mission might have narrowed our suspect list- this mission was supposed to be known only to a selected few.”

“I hope so,” you drew back. 

“Let’s go eat dinner before Sergeant Kim calls for us,” San suggested and you agreed, not really talking much and San let you sort your thoughts out while you ate. It was the Sergeant himself who found you both in the dining hall and the three of you decided to go to your room.

Sergeant Kim looked around a bit before settling on the couch beside San who had already made himself home on the other end. Sergeant Kim narrowed his eyes at him, “You look too comfortable here.”

“Ah, it must be your first time here, huh?” San scoffed. “Welcome to Mr. and Mrs. Choi’s residence-”

“What did you gather from Team 3’s report?” You interrupted, having brought the documents Sergeant Kim had handed you a few days earlier and joining the two, dragging a chair to sit across them. 

“Nothing much,” the Sergeant replied and you noticed San sulking at the way the two of you had ignored him completely. You shrugged at him as if to say ‘did you expect anything else?’. “They are pretty sure no one spotted them during the mission. Did you see anything suspicious while you kept watch?”

“Nothing until Team 3’s exit,” you told him. “The guards started moving towards where they were all of a sudden as if they knew. Major Yeom guided the team out for the most part.”

“Okay, so here’s the thing,” Sergeant Kim started spreading the pages on the table while he continued. “I don’t think there’s a pattern yet, but I think it’s safe to say that if there’s a rat and they’ve been watching our movements, they’re done simply watching. They’re retaliating. And we know that because in the past 4 months, our success rate has significantly dropped- and I’m not talking about the book definition of success.”

“You’re talking about the agents we’ve lost,” San said.

“That’s right,” the Sergeant nodded. “What do you think?”

You took a deep breath. “With both these missions, we were compromised on one of the routes known only within the base, right? With Squad 7 guiding us back at the base, and the rest of us in the field. Can we narrow it down somehow?”

“I have a feeling today didn’t go like they expected,” Sergeant Kim admitted. “If they tailed Team 3, they must have tried to accomplish something, right? What did they get accomplished though? Nothing. I think today is the first time they failed. In which case…”

“In which case they might retaliate,” you completed and he nodded, grim. “What changed today?”

“We can omit Squad 5 from the list of suspects, I think,” he answered. “That leaves us with our squad and Squad 6. I don’t think we should suspect Squad 7- if there’s a rat in there, they would find out themselves. It’s not like they were guiding us today either.”

“I really don’t think it’s someone from our squad,” San quipped in and you agreed.

“Squad 6, huh?” Sergeant Kim looked at the pages spread across the table- information of the current and former members of the squad. He picked Major Yeom’s page to get a closer look. “Did he know you were joining him today? At the station?”

“It was a last minute thing for me too, no one did,” you told him. “Do you think Major Yeom could be the rat?”

“Even if he is… who is he reporting to? Is it someone in the base or someone outside?” Sergeant Kim sighed. “And can we really suspect Major Yeom? What about the others? One of them made a pretty stupid mistake in our previous mission, if I recall.”

“Plus, Major Yeom is the one who eventually guided Team 3 safely outside,” you glanced at San. “You’re friends with a few from Squad 6, right? Anyone exhibiting strange behaviour after our previous mission?”

“Not really, no,” San shook his head, leaning forward. “I don’t think us sitting and drawing conclusions like this will yield any results. We need to conduct a proper investigation into this before something worse happens. We should alert the Lieutenant.”

“I would have alerted him already had I secured some solid evidence. There’s no pattern yet and we’re trusting our guts. As much as I trust my gut and you both, I can’t simply go with that to the Lieutenant,” Sergeant Kim sighed loudly before slumping back and you made a face. 

“We have to follow protocol, huh?” San sighed too.

“The protocol sucks,” you groaned. “I’ll conduct my own investigation. Major Yeom did not know what state Agent Oscar had been in when we retrieved him- before we lost him. Why was he not aware? Do the rest know?”

“My job was to convey information to Sergeant Park,” Sergeant Kim raised a brow as he thought. “I don’t think he did that on purpose though.

“Ah. I forgot Sergeant Park is literally your best friend-”

“No, that’s not it,” Sergeant Kim laughed. “He must have told them that Oscar was held hostage and questioned before you retrieved him. Maybe he didn’t go into the details.”

“Maybe Major Yeom lied,” San pouted. “I trust Sergeant Park for some reason.”

“You trust everyone,” you retorted and San sulked further, sinking down into the couch. “Come on, Sergeant, we need to make a decision.”

“Let’s start with Squad 6- I’ll talk with Sergeant Park,” he decided. “He must be suspicious too with how things have been recently. But you two… try not to make it too obvious, okay?”

You and San burst into a chorus of ‘as if’ and ‘you’re the most obvious one’ and Sergeant Kim decided to see himself out. You started gathering the documents, glancing once more at Major Yeom’s file. San gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze and you decided to trust your captain, relaxing into San’s touch.

—-------------------------

The sound of the alarm ringing loudly enough to wake the dead up had to be the most horrible sound you had ever heard in your life.

It had only played once before and it was a memory you wished you would forget- even now, for a few moments, you remained in your bed blinking and wondering if you were dreaming. It wasn’t until you heard the radio announcement that you got up abruptly and moved to grab your bulletproof vest and jacket, grabbing every weapon you had in your room, because-

The base was under attack.

It had only been a mere two days since your last mission, since Sergeant Kim and Park started investigating their squad members in secret. You wondered if it was somehow linked to their investigation- it had to be. As soon as you were prepared, you went outside, greeted by the rush of soldiers donning their jackets or loading their weapons. Amidst all the chaos, you spotted San and rushed towards him, holding his hand and squeezing it.

“Oh, you’re here,” he gave you a brief hug. “You’re thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah, we need to find Sergeant Kim or Sergeant Park,” you said and he nodded, looking around once and dragging you into a corner. 

“Listen- I just asked and it’s not looking good. The enemy chose a direct attack this time and the Left Wing is compromised already. How’s your leg?”

“It’s good, San, don’t worry,” you assured him, and it was the truth. “There was a reason I joined the previous mission. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I can’t help it,” he smiled, kissing your forehead. “Let’s go then. We have no time to waste.”

You nodded and the two of you started asking around for Sergeant Kim, knowing he wouldn’t be in his office but out fighting. Major Han spotted you both and dragged you to the weapons room-

“I’ve been charged with making sure you gear up like proper soldiers, and for exactly this reason,” she shook her head at the lack of helmet and equipment. “Sergeant Kim has put me in charge of leading our squad in his absence, so turn on your radios and follow me. The rest are waiting with him.”

You and San stifled your scoffs and wore the helmets, Major Han slapping you both on the neck and checking your gear, inquiring about your leg. She sighed, “We’ve already reported three casualties on the Left Wing. We will be in charge of driving them out, understood? Follow me.”

Your blood boiled at the number and you gripped your sniper as you made way to the Right Wing- the exit that your squad frequently used. As you reached closer, the sound of gunshots and soldiers shouting got louder. You spotted your members and Squad 6 ready and waiting, the Sergeants in a corner talking in hushed voices. As soon as Sergeant Kim spotted you both, he signalled and you both joined him.

“We’re waiting for orders from the Lieutenant before we go to help at the Left Wing- but I’m going to task you both for another mission. Sergeant Park?”

Sergeant Park nodded. “Major Yeom is missing. We have high suspicions to believe that he is the one who has been updating the enemy. He must have left earlier to either join them or hide. I need you both to find him and bring him back alive, is that understood?”

“Yes, Sergeant!” you both nodded. 

“I’m not entrusting my squad because of obvious reasons and sympathy factor, but Sergeant Kim here says you both are perfect for the job. Prove it.”

“And please stay safe, both of you,” Sergeant Kim huffed. “Don’t give me another heart attack. My lifespan has already decreased a good amount thanks to the two of you.”

San stifled a grin and you asked, “Do you have any suspects for who exactly Major Yeom might be providing information too? Or did you ever find out information on the man with the tattoo?” You recalled the man you had encountered while saving Agent Oscar.

“We believe it might be a group within the enemy, one specified to be spies,” Sergeant Kim said. “We haven’t seen it before, so we can’t say much. It’s only speculation.”

“Understood. We’ll take our leave then,” you said and the Sergeants nodded, making sure you had enough weapons before instructing you to find Squad 4 in the control room and start from there. You stayed on your toes the entire time, scanning everyone who crossed your path, looking for signs of anything suspicious because if Major Yeom had defected…

There could very well be others. 

You reached the control room and the Sergeant let you in, already having heard from Sergeant Kim and Park. He guided you both to the CCTVs and you got a good look at what was going on- the soldiers were still fighting against the enemy at the Left Wing and the enemy was trying to push its way inside or circle around to the Right Wing. It looked ugly. San went to monitor what was happening inside and for a while you both stood observing the base until San spotted a few of the enemy soldiers squeezing their way inside. The Sergeant immediately alerted Squad 5 to take care of it and you both decided to check the unmonitored rooms for Major Yeom. 

“Shall we check the basement first? Or keep it for the end?” You asked.

“The basement can be accessed from outside too, right?” San asked, pausing to think. “Shall we look at the dorms first? Divide and conquer?”

“Sure,” you nodded, getting anxious. You were short on time- you needed to join your squad back at the Right Wing too. “Check the dorms first, meet outside. And then the offices, the weapon rooms, and let’s go to the basement together after?”

“Sure. you take the offices, I’ll take the weapon rooms,” San said and you both agreed, splitting immediately after connecting your radios.

About an hour passed by as you checked each level, meeting by the staircase with a confirmation of ‘all clear’. You found nothing and San informed Sergeant Kim about going to check the basement. Sergeant Kim told him to make it quick and meet him at the Right Wing. 

As the two of you descended into the eerie silence of the basement, a part of you wondered if this search was just a waste of time- why would Major Yeom be in the basement? He could have exited amidst this chaos at any time- or done whatever he needed to. The basement only contained storage rooms with the archives and some exit routes- but exit routes were more easily accessible on the ground level, so why would the enemy be there?

“You take the right side, I’ll take the left,” San said when you reached down. You nodded and patted his arm before parting ways, aiming your gun as you started checking the rooms- empty, empty, yet another empty room-

And then the sound of footsteps that did not belong to San.

You hid behind a shelf, trying to calculate the distance- it seemed like the person was going further away from you. You dared to take a peak and frowned at the sight of someone in the same uniform as yours, walking at high alert with their gun aimed and ready-

It was Squad 6’s badge. It had to be Major Yeom.

You started following him silently, not even daring to breathe any louder than necessary, and when the Major went inside one of the rooms, you quickened your pace and took a look inside that room-

He was alone and it looked like he was looking for something. He was searching through the files- for what?

You took a deep breath and entered the room with your gun pointed at the Major. “Hands up, drop your weapons, now.”

The Major froze, glancing at you once, not daring to turn. “Major Seo. I can explain-”

“Drop your weapons, now,” you seethed, stepping closer as he dropped his gun to the ground, the metal meeting the floor with a clang. You buried the muzzle of your gun in his back before ordering him to exit the room. The Major knew better than to disobey you and took slow and steady footsteps as per your instructions until you had him pinned to the wall so you could signal San.

“Charlie, I’ve got the mole,” you said into the radio, waiting for a response but when 10 seconds passed and you got none, you grabbed the Major’s collar and started steering him to the direction San had gone into earlier.

“Charlie? I need a response,” you called, panic starting to bubble in your heart. “Charlie, this is Echo, can you hear me?”

You wondered if his silence was because he found something or was in a situation where he needed to be silent- you simply prayed it was only that. However, having scoured the basement and finding no signs of San, you slammed the Major against the wall and dug your gun in his back. “Who was with you here?”

“No one-”

“Choose your answer carefully, I will not hesitate to shoot you down,” you warned and the Major scoffed. 

“I bet Sergeant Park wants me back alive.”

“He never said anything about you being unharmed, though,” you started dragging your gun down his thigh and Major Yeom groaned.

“Fine, there is someone. You should check the exit.”

“Take the lead,” you gave him space to walk, still holding him by his collar as he led you to the room at the other end of the basement- a storage room with one of its bookshelves now pushed away from the wall, behind which a door was slightly ajar.

“What were you trying to find in the archives?” You asked, nudging him to go ahead inside the passage. 

“I don’t know-”

“Like hell you don’t,” you entered the path, the smell of damp mud hitting you right away and you turned on the light on your helmet.

“I was only instructed to retrieve a specific document, which wasn’t even present there,” Major Yeom clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Look, I’ve got nothing against you- I know you’re following orders. But you really shouldn’t go to the end of this path.”

You didn’t stop walking. “I need to find Major Choi.”

“If he’s got Major Choi, you can forget about him-”

That was your last straw- you slammed the Major into the wall and dug your arm into his neck, your hand almost shaking as you pointed the gun at his temple. “Who?”

Major Yeom tried retaliating but you were quicker and you kicked his ankle harshly, effectively making him drop to his knees as you pointed your gun at his head. “I’ve had enough- your colleagues are dying out there fighting the enemy, Major Yeom. Just what have you gotten yourself into?”

“Are you sure they’re the enemy? Eden? We haven’t been saints either,” he scoffed, spitting on the ground. “You talk about principles and morals but where were your morals when you abandoned your colleagues when some mission went wrong, huh?”

Your heart sank. “If this is about Oscar, I did not abandon him-”

“Not him,” he shook his head. “The others. You and Major Choi… you go back for each other, disobeying every protocol and you get an applause. Why did no one go back for Major Lee?”

You frowned. “I’m pretty sure Sergeant Park eventually went back for him. As for Major Choi and I… you don’t know anything.”

“Sergeant Park never went back for him- or if he did, he didn’t try hard enough. Do you have any idea what they did to Major Lee?”

“Major Lee is dead,” you almost cried. “Forget about the past- why are you doing this now, huh? Who’s ordering you?”

“He’s not dead-”

“Stand back and drop your weapons, now.”

You froze- how did you not hear someone coming when even your hushed voices were echoing? Was the person already present and listening to your conversation? With the feeling of dread clouding your mind, you took a step back from Major Yeom and glanced up-

To see a masked man holding San at gunpoint.

And fortunately enough, Major Yeom took your stepping back as a sign to stand up and you did the first thing you thought sensible- mirror that masked man and hold Major Yeom at gunpoint. Major Yeom groaned as the muzzle of your gun buried painfully in his temple but you ignored it and glared at the man, trying not to meet eyes with San.

“So you’re the one who’s been ordering Major Yeom around, huh?” You asked. “Let go of Major Choi and I’ll let go of your man.”

The man’s deep laugh echoed through the passage. “Not that simple. You will obey every order I give you or else your Major Choi won’t live to see the sunrise.”

Something shattered in you at that moment as you recalled San’s words- “I wish to see the rest of my sunrises with you”. You finally dared to look at San, now rid of his helmet with a few bruises across his face. He shook his head subtly as if to say ‘do what you’re being told’ but you remained frozen in your spot.

“Take off your helmet. Let me see who you are,” the man ordered. You kept ahold of Major Yeom and removed your helmet, your jaw clenched painfully. You aimed the gun back at the Major and the man shook his head. 

“Drop your weapon and step away from him, Major Seo.”

Once again, you were surprised- just who was he? He must have seen the confusion on your face and he finally removed his mask-

It was Major Lee.

“Why?” was all you could ask. Major Lee only shook his head.

“You will not understand how it is like to be abandoned by your own people. And for what? For nothing,” he tsk-ed. “Do you remember that mission, Major? Do you remember how we marched into the enemy territory because we were going to retrieve stolen data? There was no stolen data,-”

“Major Lee, please listen to me,” you pleaded. “We’re soldiers. We obey orders. It is not our duty to question it- we’re only given orders. We don’t even know what we retrieve, you may be right, but… if you have a problem with it, you should take it to the Headquarters or I don’t know… the General, the higher-ups, anyone but us. So please let go of Major Choi, at least. Your fight is not with us.”

“You will let go of Major Yeom and step back,” his voice was cold and you shut your eyes in defeat. “And then I will decide what to do with Major Choi.”

“Major Lee-”

“Now!” He hit San with the grip of his gun on his forehead, instantly making you drop your gun with an ‘okay, okay!’ and you took a few steps back until Major Lee grunted in approval. “Kneel and face backwards.”

“Please let go of Major Choi-”

“Don’t make me do something you will regret,” he warned. “I will let go of him, but not right now. Kneel and face backwards- and you will count 100 seconds before you take one step. If I hear you, he dies, understood?”

You nodded through tears, looking at San once who only passed you a reassuring smile. You did as you were told and counted 1, hearing the footsteps fade and by the time you counted to 100, you had stopped sobbing and instead, anger- hot, boiling hot anger clouded all sense of rationality. You stood up and grabbed your gun and began running towards where they had taken Major Choi, praying he was okay all the while. But you reached the end of the passage which exited near the Right Wing and found no signs of Major Yeom and Major Lee. 

No signs of Choi San.

You took a deep breath, surveying the area- you could hear the sounds of a fight to your left so you reckoned Major Lee must have avoided that and gone in the opposite direction. You started marching to your right, taking out the radio that connected you to Sergeant Kim.

“Alpha, this is Echo, please respond. Alpha?”

You continued treading along the building for a few seconds which was when your radio sounded. “Alpha responding.”

“The mole and the rat have escaped with Charlie. I am going to retrieve Charlie. Awaiting no further orders.”

“Echo, halt where you are. I will join you-”

“I do not have the time, Sergeant,” you seethed into the radio, ditching all formalities. “They took him, okay? Major Lee took him and he feels betrayed by all of us. I don’t know what he will do to him, I need to save him.”

There was a few seconds of silence and you spotted movement towards the gate- two or three figures. It had to be them. You started running towards them, hearing the sound of a jeep in the distance and you ran faster, trying to make it in time but you would never make it- you took off the sniper from your shoulder and started shooting towards the men getting in the car but it was no use- you were too far away. The jeep took off, leaving you all alone in the middle of the abandoned post and you fell to your knees, trying to control your unsteady breathing and shake off the ringing in your ears realising later that Sergeant Kim was repeatedly calling your name into the radio.

“They got away,” you breathed, unable to control your sobs this time. “They’ve taken him.”

“Where are you?”

“The abandoned post,” you looked around. “I need to go-”

“Stay where you are,” he ordered. “I’m coming to get you. The fight is almost over anyway.”

You buried your head in your arms as you knelt on the ground, your mind already hyperfunctioning as it planned all possible routes they could have taken, all possible spots they could be going to. All you knew was you would have to go to Eden all alone and retrieve him at all costs. But you couldn’t help the fear and the dread, because something like this had never happened- not to him, at least. You had been taken by force once and San had disobeyed all orders and marched into the enemy territory to retrieve you-

And you would do the same for him. 

You did not realise how long you spent kneeling and planning through the utter pain of processing just what happened and the fear for San’s life when you heard a number of footsteps and you finally looked up to see not only Sergeant Kim but Major CJ and Major Yu.

“Oh, dear,” Major Yu shook her head at your state and knelt down, enveloping you in a hug. “It’s going to be okay. We will go back for him, okay?”

You nodded, breaking away and looking at Sergeant Kim who looked like he could pass out right there. “It’s Major Lee- I spotted his tattoo too, on the wrist. He’s the one who’s been sabotaging our missions, and I don’t know what he’s planning to do now. He said something about how our missions are baseless or something, I don’t know,” you sighed. “He has a problem with how things are being run. And now he’s taking it out on us.”

“I have a problem with how things are run here too,” Sergeant Kim sounded pissed. “But that does not mean I betray my people and side with the enemy for some petty revenge- even if something happens. We will go back for Major Choi, okay? But first you need to come back and plan-”

“I have no time to waste,” you shook your head fiercely. “You can join me later or not at all, for all I care, but I am leaving right now. I just need more weapons and I’m good-”

“Major Seo-”

“I cannot let anything happen to him!” You almost shouted, looking at Major Yu or Major CJ for help- surely they understood. “I finally, finally learned to live with myself and learned to function like a normal human being, I…” you breathed. “You know me, Sergeant. You know that I cannot live without him- I- “ you laughed at the irony of the situation. “I swore to never be like my mother but here I am.”

Major CJ turned as if to process what was happening and realisation dawned on Major Yu’s face. Sergeant Kim knelt down next to you. “You’re the strongest person I know here, Major. But please, think with your head for once. Come back with me, gear up properly, plan this and then leave-”

“You can do all of that and join me later,” you gave the final verdict. “I am leaving right now- keep me updated on the radio. And give me all of your bullets and weapons, dammit.”

Major CJ sighed. “Let me come with you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Sergeant Kim groaned. “You think I don’t want to save him? I have to follow protocol- I cannot allow two of you to disappear-”

“It doesn’t matter anymore- someone needs to keep her grounded, and I can do that,” Major CJ offered you a hand and you smiled, taking it. “You can both give us your weapons and go back to the base, prepare and follow us right after. It shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

Sergeant Kim considered for a few seconds before finally giving in, taking out his guns and daggers and Major Yu did the same. You both docked yourselves up and made sure everything was working.

“This is the last time I’m allowing this,” Sergeant Kim warned and you rolled your eyes. “Bring that brat back. And both of you… don’t get hurt. That is an order- come back alive.”

“Yes, Sergeant!” You both saluted and he told you both to hurry on, calling in the radio to order a car for you two. You looked ahead at the horizon, the sky already starting to lighten.

You prayed you would watch the sunrise once again and got in the car.

—---------------------------

Major CJ was proving to be quite the strategist. He was keeping the mood light, probably because you appeared tense enough to make up for him too, and you had to stop and appreciate him at one point, which he just shyly dismissed.

“I really don’t think a defected soldier will have much influence around there, so if they allowed Major Lee in the enemy base in Sector 1… that’s the only place he might go if he’s still working with them. Even if he’s not, Sector 1 is a pretty good place to start-”

“Stop calling him ‘Major’,” you growled. “Call him the motherfu-”

“-until we get some visual or locate Major Choi by some miracle,” Major CJ finished saying. “And stop being angry- it’s only going to cloud your decisions.”

“Oh no, not me,” you scoffed. “Anger fuels me and keeps me alive.”

“Whatever helps you,” Major CJ passed you a weird look.

You were both in Sector 1 now, going through the connected passages just like you had on your previous mission here. You could spot the enemy base now and you prayed Major CJ’s instinct was correct- San had to be there. 

“Do you think we should negotiate with Major Lee or just… go berserk?” Major CJ asked and when the radio responded before you, you realised he had asked the Sergeant too.

“Let Major Seo do whatever she wishes,” the Sergeant sighed loudly. “I’ll leave my post once she’s back. She should be the Sergeant since she can make all her decisions herself now-”

“Oh, please, I would not have waited for you back there if that was the case,” you muttered. “Don’t fuel me any further right now, Captain.”

“Whatever. Try to negotiate first and see if you can get him to come back.”

“Permission to shoot otherwise? If things don’t look bright?”

“In case he tries to harm any of you, permission to shoot is granted,” Sergeant Park’s voice sounded. “For Major Yeom too. He is a defected soldier- his case must be handled differently from Major Lee because we thought him dead.”

“Copy that,” Major CJ responded. “Stepping within a 2 mile radius into the enemy base… now.”

You took the lead, Major CJ providing cover and you couldn’t help but be reminded of San. Gritting your teeth and steeling your nerves, you loaded your guns and went into stealth mode-

And all hell went loose.

Major CJ was strong in every sense- he naturally took the lead as you eliminated guard after guard, forcing your way inside through a back door. And unsurprisingly, Major CJ was depending on his fists more in close combat and you would finish it off with bullets. You wondered if you two were syncing better because you were both fueled with the same purpose- to retrieve Major Choi.

“To the basement,” you motioned towards the stairs. “They keep the hostages there unless they’re being questioned.”

“They should have changed locations by now,” Major CJ flexed his arms, having suffocated one of the soldiers. “If Major Lee is in there… he’s pretty fucking stupid.”

You grinned, covering for him as you both went downstairs, this time shelling the guards first before gunning them down. You told Major CJ to hold his own while you checked the rooms, finding one empty room after another-

Nothing. He wasn’t in the basement.

With pure adrenaline fuelling you now, you lead Major CJ upstairs to the same level you had found Agent Oscar on, shooting in succession at anyone who dared to cross your path, not caring if you hit a vital spot anymore- they had done enough damage tonight too. You hurried along the corridor towards the rooms at the end and spotted San tied to a chair, his head hanging down. You almost stepped inside the room but paused-

There had to be someone else in the room.

You glanced at Major CJ and nodded before pushing the door open with your foot and as soon as you spotted movement against the wall, you pointed your gun in that direction and shot at the lower region, successfully hitting Major Yeom in the thigh who shot reflexively at you in return but he was slower- you kicked his gun away and held him at gunpoint once again.

“That was quick,” he seethed through the pain.

“You took my partner, of course I was quick,” you hit his head with the grip of your gun, making him groan louder. “Where’s that bastard?”

“He knew you would come here,” Major Yeom spat. “He’s got plans for you-”

“Oh no, he hasn’t,” you grinned. “Major Lee got some abandonment issues, huh? He must have thought no one would come back for Major Choi. But did he ever think our squads would retaliate against his actions? Your colleagues will be joining soon, Major.”

Major Yeom paled. “They wouldn’t have allowed you to-”

“That’s the thing- Major Lee made it pretty clear what he was expecting, and all we had to do was the opposite. Sergeant Park is not pleased at two of his members defecting. You do know how he gets when he’s angry, right? He’s on his way here right now, so I’ll let him take care of you.”

Major CJ joined and told you that the rest of the members were already here. You allowed yourself to relax while he took care of Major Yeom and you walked to San, untying the ropes on his wrists and kissing his knuckles.

“Major Choi. Can you hear me?”

He did not respond. You figured he must have been drugged to unconsciousness. You held his face, tucking his hair back and examining the bruises there and then the rest of his body- at least he was unharmed. You bent down and with the help of Major CJ, you propped his body on your back, deciding to carry him out while Major CJ provided cover. A sense of relief started to wash over you as you made your way out, your members and Squad 6’s members passing smiles because as Sergeant Kim said when he joined you on this mission, some protocols really needed to change. It was high time and considering how Major Lee felt about his situation and Major Yeom joined him, they must have felt abandoned- perhaps for the right reasons. You had often felt that too, though you were lucky enough to have San as your partner who always had your back and broke protocols and disobeyed orders again and again for you. And the thought scared you- that if not for him, you might have turned into Major Lee too.

You exited the base and hopped into the car waiting for you, Major CJ helping you lay him down across the seat and you checked San’s pulse and monitored his breathing- he was okay. 

Major CJ said he was going to help the rest and left you and San alone in the car. The adrenaline started to wear off and with trembling hands, you examined the rest of his body for any signs of injuries, finding none and relaxing once again, resting your head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat while you waited for him to wake up. You shut your eyes, not sure if the sound in your ears was the sound of San’s heart or your own. 

You didn’t realise how tired you were until you felt a hand caress your head, tucking your hair behind your ears. You found yourself unable to open your eyes, a stream of fresh tears falling down on San’s jacket. His warm fingers wiped the tears away, caressing your cheek softly. 

“Won’t you look at me?”

You only buried your face in his chest, silently crying. San let you be for a few moments before he couldn’t take it anymore and nudged you to face him, seating himself up. You finally opened your eyes and let out a relieved laugh. San smiled in response, wiping your face with his sleeve. 

“You have no idea how much it hurts me to see you cry.”

“I’m crying because of you,” you said, sniffing. “Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

“I’m sorry,” he kissed your forehead, lingering. “I’m so sorry-”

“No, it’s not your fault,” you told him, cupping his face. “I’m just so glad that you’re okay, so glad,” you said, pecking his lips. “I was so scared-”

San captured your mouth in a kiss as a form of an apology and you took it, letting his hand guide you as he deepened the kiss. You fisted his shirt in one hand, the other finding his and intertwining with it. San broke away, your breaths lingering and you reached in to hug him, burying your face in the crook of his neck- your favourite spot. San caressed your back, holding you as close as he could. 

“You came back for me, huh?” San shook his head at the insanity of it. “Do you realise just what you did? Did you march here alone?”

“I almost did, but CJ joined and then the rest did- even Squad 6,” you told him, breaking away so you could look at him. “Captain wouldn’t let me go alone.”

“He’s always like this,” San laughed. “But you- you shouldn’t have been so reckless-”

“Says who? At least I had the others join later. You marched into enemy base alone to get me back 3 years ago-”

“That was different-”

“Yes, but that was more reckless,” you slapped his arm. “And anyways, I would have done this for you. You know I would have come for you. It’s a miracle I found you this quick.”

San caressed your face. “Even if we were not… like this?”

“We’ve always been in love, though,” you said and San caught your confession in it. “And I have realised now… love is supposed to be a strength, not a weakness.”

San glanced outside, the sky glowing a beautiful pastel now and spotted the Sergeants collecting their members and arresting Major Lee and Major Yeom. When you counted the rest of your members, all safe and sound, you relaxed into San’s arms. The enemy was stupid to attack your base- of course you would have retaliated. San kissed your forehead. “We lived to see the sunrise yet again.”

“I wish to see the rest of my sunrises with you too,” you said and San smiled. You sealed that promise with a kiss.

To a better future. 

#san x reader #choi san x reader #san angst #san smut #san fluff #choi san angst #choi san smut #choi san fluff #choi san #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez headcanons #choi san imagines #choi san scenarios #ateez au

[fairuzfan]

i seriously don't even have the words to describe what it's felt like as a native person learning about "holocaust exceptionalism" or whatever for the first time during all of this

the first time i saw a tweet talking about how it wasn't appropriate to compare any other genocide (and specifically this person was talking about the native american genocide(s), along with several others i've seen since & most of the "historians" who go this route, too) to the holocaust because unlike in those cases, where there was a clear logical reason for the wholesale slaughter of millions of people, the holocaust was senseless! it was just killing innocent people for no reason, which is completely different from when they got rid of all those dumb indians standing in the way of Progress & wasting the precious resources the colonizers needed much more... i thought they were just some random dickhead saying intentionally terrible shit online for engagement

but then i just kept seeing people saying similar things, and eventually while reading up on palestinian history, i find out that this has apparently been a zionist (and in many cases non-zionist, which maybe feels even worse) talking point for decades now?

(and increasingly, over the last few weeks, i've seen it shift to this more broad claim that comparing any genocide to any other genocide is harmful, actually... which is such a dumb argument to try to pass off as genuine when, among other things, there's literally an entire field called "genocide studies" that it's honestly almost funny)

i can't think of anything in recent memory that's felt like such a brutal slap in the face as finding out the belief that the systematic murder of my people was a completely logical, understandable course of action--arguably a net positive, even, in the long run--is now and long has been this commonly held. i've felt sick since ever since. how do you say shit like that and not understand that you're implicitly rationalizing and, to some extent, justifying it? how do you not hear yourself?

forgive me, i know it must feel very eye-roll-worthy to have someone come yelling to you right now about how badly their people are treated by zionists, but every time i see someone parroting off an argument along these lines, i swear i can just feel my faith in humanity slip a little more lol

yeah, fuck off with this bullshit for sure

oh don't apologize, i totally understand why you would want to talk about this. thank you for sending this, and I'm so sorry that youre going through this. it really is an inconsiderate talking point at the very least.... i wish the best for you and yours in these times.

[heich0e]

suna's parents divorced when he was eight.

he doesn't remember a lot of the finer details as he's gotten older, mostly just that there used to be a lot of yelling, but he does remember the two piles of belongings that stacked up in the empty living room of his childhood home: one consisting of his father's and his own, and the other comprised of his mother's and his little sister's. their entire life, their entire family, packed up into cardboard and then divided down the middle.

the apartment he moved into with his father was always too quiet. it was in aichi, far enough away from where he spent the first decade of his life that he didn't have to be reminded of it every time he left the house, but since his father worked so much it still left him with plenty of time to think. to grieve. though maybe he didn't recognize it as that at the time. he played video games his father bought for him after school. ate convenience store bentos or whatever leftovers were set aside for him in the fridge for dinner. he put himself to bed at night. it wasn't a bad life, though maybe a bit lonely.

he was scouted to play for inarizaki when he was 14.

the lonely apartment turned into a lively dorm. he had new friends (his teammates) to play video games with. his convenience store bentos were replaced with hot meals from the meal hall. the loneliness of the apartment in aichi was a distant memory, but still lingered.

"i'm home."

rintarou drops his training bag in the genkan as he toes off his shoes, calling into the apartment to announce his return.

"welcome home!" you call back from further in the apartment, and the sound makes him smirk a little to himself.

you've been coming over to his place a lot lately, ever since he gave you his spare key. he's not upset about this in the slightest, but it doesn't mean he won't take every possible opportunity to tease you for it. he plans how he's going to make fun of you as he pads into his home towards the sound of your voice. he almost has it all planned out—his delivery on the very tip of his tongue—when he falters to a stop.

"how was your day?" you ask him without looking up from what you're doing.

and suddenly, anything rintarou may have wanted to say—joke or otherwise—is beyond him.

he watches as you set a plate of food down on the already full table just off his little kitchen. the food that covers the surface is still hot enough that steam curls up into the air above it, its preparation perfectly timed to his arrival home. his apartment is warm, and smells good, and there's music playing from your cellphone on the other side of the room that you must have been listening to while you cooked.

his chest feels tight.

you turn to look at him when he doesn't respond to your question.

"rin?" you ask again, a lilt of worry in your tone. "you okay?"

"what's all this?" he manages to ask, nodding towards the table where the meal you prepared is still waiting.

"oh, i've been craving my mom's recipe for the past few days, i just thought i'd make it for dinner," you say, tugging at your fingers nervously. your entire countenance is a bit different now, strained like you're worried you've done something wrong. "hope that's okay?" your words lift at the end like a question.

rintarou's never seen so much food on his table. can't remember the last time he even sat there to eat a meal—let alone a home cooked one. his face feels hot, and his eyes sting, and he just can't bring himself to look at you.

"yeah," he says, and if you notice how his voice is a bit croaky, you're nice enough not to tease him about it. "'course it's okay."

you smile, and you look relieved. "wash your hands then, it's getting cold."

you eat your dinner together and talk about your days. you take a shower while he cleans up the dishes. you fall asleep tangled up together on the couch with a movie playing in the background.

his home isn't quiet anymore. he isn't lonely.

and it's thanks to you.

#suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #hq drabble #hq writing

[lucyrose191]

12 YEARS LATER, PART 2| S.O BLACK

Pairing; POA!Sirius Black x wife!reader

Summary; It’s been 12 years since Y/N last saw her husband, now it was time to see him for the first time, what could she say to him?

Warnings; Angst? Fluff, Sirius probably looks like death

HP/Marauders Master List

Sirius felt happiness and immense relief to see that the home you shared all of those years ago hadn’t changed at all, the garden was still well kept and from what he could see through the windows of the living room, it was still decorated the same way.

It was like a breath of fresh air being back in the place that held so many memories and loving moments; moments that had gotten him through the past twelve years of hell.

Knowing he was innocent had protected his sanity against the dementors but remembering those soft touches and electric kisses had kept him half happy.

He frequently dreamt of those slow mornings you spent together, that feeling of pure happiness he felt back then to wake up next to you, being able to see you first thing in the morning was the greatest gift he could have ever asked for.

He hadn’t really known how lucky he was back then to have those small moments; he had only realised when it had been taken away from him.

Sirius had thought about you every single day. He wondered how you looked, if you had moved on and created a family, if you hated him…

And now, his heart was pounding in his chest as he scratched at the door with his paw, knowing that you and Harry were merely on the other side.

He could hear your voice and whilst it was more matured and had lost that young playfulness he once knew, it was still you.

He waited. Waited. Waited.

As each minute passed by, his heart beat more erratic in his chest.

Eventually, the door opened.

It wasn’t you, it was Harry stood there with a massive smile on his face at the sight of his godfather.

Even though he knew there was no one around for miles, Sirius cautiously looked around before he transformed back into himself. "It’s good to see you again, Harry," his voice was hoarse and gruff from its lack of use but still held its friendly tone.

Harry launched himself into Sirius’ arms, catching the latter off guard and almost sending him tumbling off the sheer force of the impact but he welcomed the embrace with a chuffed laugh. "I’m glad you’re staying here, Padfoot."

Sirius mindfully patted Harry’s back as he pulled away, smiling slightly but Harry could tell that Sirius wasn’t really paying much attention, he could see the distraction in the way his godfather was looking over his shoulder into the house, as though hoping to catch sight of something, or someone. "Where’s your godmother?" He asked in a dreaded whisper.

Harry shuffled awkwardly as he looked back into the house before looking back to Sirius. "Uhm, she’s in the kitchen preparing dinner."

Sirius swallowed but nodded, releasing a nervous sigh as he looked to the ground then back up, not really knowing what to do.

Harry pursed his lips, feeling uncomfortable, knowing that you weren’t really impressed with the last minute bomb he dropped on you when you weren’t ready and that Sirius was at a loss to what he could say to you after over a decade of being without you. Harry had put the three of you in this situation and felt the responsibility to guide you through it.

"Why don’t you go to my room and you can get cleaned up and I can find you some clothes to wear then you can join us and have something proper to eat?" He suggested, sighing in relief when Sirius nodded, seeming to like that idea.

Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest that it was beginning to ache, the pain almost becoming unbearable as you heard footsteps behind you.

"It’s just me," Harry spoke, calming you instantly, causing you to turn around.

"Where is he?" You whispered, looking around wearing, you felt uneasy in your own house knowing that he was nearby.

"I took him upstairs to my room so he could shower, do you know if we have any clothes he could change into?" Harry asked.

You paused for a moment before speaking. "I do, actually." Thinking back to the boxes hidden away at the back of your wardrobe, you didn’t know if they’d still fit him but they were his.

"Could you grab them for me and I’ll take them to him?" You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen, leaving Harry to keep an eye on the food.

You could hear the sound of running water that came from Harry’s en-suite; he was so close yet so far and you had no idea how to feel about it.

You grabbed him clean socks, underwear, joggers and a t-shirt, even going as far as pulling out some of his old hair care products that used to crowd the bathroom counter knowing that Azkaban probably hadn’t been great for his hair and that would have broken your Sirius’ heart.

Sirius couldn’t fight his smile at the sight of the clothes and products that had been left on Harry’s bed for him, they were his, you had kept them all of these years, that had to mean something, didn’t it?

He had purposely taken his time getting dressed whether he was aware of it or not, he was trying to prolong the time it would take to see you, hoping he’d think of something he could say to you, he hadn’t thought of anything by the time he had finished so he just bit the bullet and slowly made his way downstairs.

The entire house was the way he had left it that Halloween night in 1981, only with the addition of photos of you and Harry from throughout the years, it made him smile to see that you had both had a nice life, the only thing that made him sad was that it had been just the two of you and he hadn’t been there with you.

The sound of your’s and Harry’s voices floating from the kitchen filled his heart, he could tell the bond between the pair of you was strong.

As soon as he hit the threshold of the kitchen, the chatter immediately stopped, the pair of you were already sat as the table with your plates in front of you; a large plate of food was sat in front of an empty chair opposite you, waiting for him.

The two of you made eye contact and every thought in his mind disappeared, all those words he wanted to say to you no longer mattered because everything that needed to be said was spoken just from looking into your eyes.

You were beautiful, just as you had been back then and you still had the same effect on him. The air was sucked from his lungs and he was punched in the face with the most overwhelming feeling of love he had ever experienced, the ring that had remained on his finger since you were nineteen was suddenly weighed down by his feelings for you that hadn’t disappeared in the slightest, even after so long apart.

His eyes shot to your left hand and his chest grew heavy at the lack of jewellery on your finger, he had to remind himself that he had betrayed you though, by leaving you that night with no telling of what he was doing, he had simply left and not returned.

"Padfoot," Harry’s voice cut through the tension between the two of you. "You should eat something," he pointed towards the plate that was piled with food.

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded weakly, carefully making his way to the table and sitting down, it was as though he thought any movement that was too fast would break something between you that hadn’t yet been fixed.

The three of you sat in the most intense silence; Sirius and Harry ate but you had quickly lost your appetite, the sight of him had just about torn you in two.

He was all skin and bone, every movement he made showed just how weak he was, the shaking of his hands a sign of his lack of nutrition.

Even though you hadn’t seen him before his shower you know it must have done him well because his skin was clean and he looked fresh, his facial hair was neatly groomed and his hair, though longer than you remember, was in its typical ringlets, a sharp contrast to the way he looked in the wanted posters you had seen.

Sirius was thankful to eat something that wasn’t wild animals he had hunted; food that was actually filling and would give him the energy he lacked.

He could feel the glances you kept sending him but kept his head down and his attention focused on his meal, he was afraid of what you would say to him.

Would you tell him you had moved on a long time ago and you were simply doing this for Harry?

The sound of you clearing your throat caused him to look up, Harry had disappeared without him noticing, it was just the two of you, your eyes looking into his with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify.

"I’m glad you’re okay," you spoke, voice ever so gentle.

Sirius dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat, focusing all of his attention on you. "I’m glad you and Harry are okay, it was all I ever thought about," he replied.

The roughness of his voice took you by surprise but you suppose it shouldn’t have considering the lack of people he had to speak to whilst he was imprisoned.

"A part of me was worried, knowing you were out there all alone," you confessed.

Your words made his heart swell but he knew better than to get his hopes up. "And the other? Worried that I wanted to hurt him?" He couldn’t mask the bitterness in his voice, the thought of you thinking he could do such a thing would break him.

"Worried that you didn’t want to actually, I was worried that everything the public knew about you was wrong and that you were out there all alone in the cold and wanting to do something good. Because it meant you had been locked up all those years for nothing and well, that worry was a reality."

Your words comforted him but there was one thing they had been on his mind since he had spoken to Harry for the first time. "You only told him about me at the beginning of the year when I escaped, why?"

You looked down at the table, tears in your eyes. "It was just me and Harry for years, I had all these photographs for him and all of these stories about James and Lily. There was a constant in the photos that he was curious about, the man with the cheeky smile and the long, curly hair. I just told him you were an old friend because I couldn’t tell the little boy he was back then that the entire Wizarding world thought you were the reason they were dead and I didn’t want to tell him my thoughts either because I wanted him to decide what he wanted to think when he was old enough and he did."

"And what were your thoughts?" He asked the dreaded question.

You smiled painfully and shook your head. "That you are the most irrational and dare I say irresponsible man that I have ever met in my life and you were overwhelmed with grief that night, so much so that you didn’t at all think straight about the outcome of your actions. You were just filled with betrayal and heartbreak that the only thing you cared about was getting revenge and I never blamed you for that, I only ever blamed you for losing the life you deserved to live, losing the life we could have shared."

Sirius’ eyes welled up at your words, both from relief that you never thought he did what he was accused of and guilt for the way he had acted that night, knowing that he had caused you a hell of a lot of loss, loss of the life you had wanted to build with him.

He was suddenly wracked with the emotion of the reality of what had actually happened and what he had missed out on, what you both had missed out on. "Did you-" he wanted to ask but you were already shaking your head.

"Absolutely not, there was never anyone else, it was only ever you and I never had to question it." There was such confidence in your words and it shot right into his chest, it was as though those words had broken the dam that had hidden his emotions because the flood gates had opened and Sirius buried his head in his hands as sobs wracked through his body.

You jumped up from your seat and made your way around the table, taking Harry’s vacant seat and pulling it right up beside Sirius’, wrapping your arms around him.

Sirius leaned into your body, allowing himself to be fully wrapped up in your arms.

It wasn’t long before his sobs stopped but he made no effort to move from your embrace, instead he relished in the familiar comfort that he had longed for and allowed himself to smile as he smelled the scent of the perfume you still wore and had worn since you were a teenager.

You pressed a kiss into his hair before resting your head against his. "I missed you so much." You assured him.

"I missed you, you and Harry were all I ever thought about, you got me through it, you’ve always been my strength." He muttered into your shoulder.

You closed your eyes at his words, not wanting to cry but it was hard, you had him in your arms again and it filled you with so many overwhelming emotions.

"You’re still so beautiful," you laughed at his muffled compliment, squeezing him tighter in response.

"I’m glad you’re here, Sirius. I’m so happy you’re back." You told him.

"Me too," he sighed, then waited for a moment before asking. "Where are your rings?"

You silently and reluctantly pulled away from him but remained close. You reached up and pulled out the chain that was hanging from your neck, hanging from the chain were two rings; one was a simple, thin, silver band and the other was a diamond encrusted band with a large, rectangle shaped, white sapphire in the centre.

"I knew Harry would ask questions because he’s so nosey but I wants to keep them on me," you explained.

Sirius nodded with a smile, happy you still kept them and wore them, his smile widened as he watched you remove the chain from your neck and remove the rings before placing them on your left hand where they belonged.

He moved forward and rested his forehead against yours, not necessarily ready to let go just yet.

Harry stood in the doorway of the kitchen, you were right, he was nosey but he didn’t really care. He was way too amazed at the sight in front of him, he could quite literally see the connection that was shared between his godparents and was beyond happy that the two of you were able to be reunited and hopefully make your way back to each other.

You would make your way back to each other, Sirius was your family and he was your home. The connection between the two of you hadn’t been lost in the time apart and it only made you more confident in the fact that Sirius Black was your soulmate, he was the other half of your heart and there’s no one else you would wait so long for or want to spend your life with.

You loved him more than anything and well aware that he felt the same way about you.

Tag list; those who asked to be tagged in part 2. @bullets-from-another-dimension @babyclea @mel-vaz @crowleythesexydemon @mspotterh

#sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #padfoot x reader #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #sirius black #harry potter #hp #hp fanfic

[gaypirate420]

Haircut //Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gn! reader.

Summary: Jasper did a thing while he was in a mood.

Angst/Fluff. Jasper icon by @jasperhaleobsessed

The vampire steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. The water dripping down his yellow hair, his pale hand wipes the steam off the mirror above the sink.

Golden eyes stare at his reflection.

Paper white skin decorated with deep scars. His muscles tensed up. He leans over, his hands holding hard on the sink, cracking it slightly.

It hasn't been a great week.

No, it hasn't been a great month. Year. Decade(s).

Since Victoria and her wannabe army of newborn vampires showed up he's been spiraling each day.

Slowly, the glass have been a drops away from spilling.

The memories just flooded his mind everytime he closed his eyes.

They're always there, but they're more vivid this time, he doesn't like this, Jasper knows this cycle too well, he doesn't want to be part of it again.

He thought he was getting better.

Jasper's been pushing you away and he's an idiot for that because he needs you, he needs you so so so bad but Jasper just can't tell you he's struggling. And he doesn't know why that is. Maybe he feels ashamed for being so weak, so broken.

There's a reason why you and him have been together for almost fifty years. You just bring the best of him and make the pain go away. Always.

A smile creeps on his face but it goes away quickly, he sighs and looks at the mirror one more time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jasper? Sunshine, you in here?" You asked while stepping inside the Cullen's house. The ironey flavor of blood still in your mouth after a successful hunt.

"...yeah." He mumbled from upstairs there was a slight shake on his voice. No waiting for you at the door? No bouquet of flowers? No forehead kiss? No 'Darlin' I missed ya.'?

Something happened. Something bad.

You approached your shared bedroom opening the door slowly.

Your eyes try to process what their seeing.

Jasper was sitting at the edge of the bed, eyes unfocused starring at the locks of hair on the floor. His pale fingers holding a pair of scissors, shaking.

And of course his hair. Short. Cut at random lengths after a fit of raw emotion. Anger. Sadness. Desperation. That's what his aura is filled with.

"Sweetheart..." You called softly and closed the door behind you. The vampire doesn't react to your presence at all, he just looks straight ahead, deep in thought.

Jasper catches on the steps getting closer to him and a gentle hand tilt his chin up gently to make his eyes meet yours. His almost numb expression makes you want to cry. The golden color of his eyes holds no shine, they're dull and empty.

"Hey, sunshine." You whisper softly and cup his face, leaning on your touch and a small gasp leaving his lips, if he was human he'll be all tears right now.

"Oh—it's okay, sweetheart." You whisper reassuringly. The blonde wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close, burying his face on your chest, taking a deep breath and drowning on your comforting scent.

You stroke his now short hair.

"...sorry" He whimpers against your chest trying to find some peace with your touch.

"Why are you apologizing, cowboy?" You whisper softly and caress his face, he can't look at you right now, he feel so ashamed because you're seeing him like this.

"... because— I'm a mess." His voice breaks and he holds closer to you. You just stroke his hair and kiss his forehead.

"...and my hair is ugly now." He added, a bitter chuckle follows. You take the scissors from his shaking hands and brush his hair down.

"May I fix it?" You asked before cutting anything.

"Can you?" He asks hopeless as he closes his eyes, he feels defeated, tired, he just wants to sleep but he can't sleep because of his nature.

"Well... either way I think you'll look handsome bald." You try to lighten the mood and it surprisingly works because his frown turns into a smirk. He nods and allows you to fix his hair.

You lean down to kiss his lips, a tender, slow and gentle kiss. He holds the kiss for longer, the feeling of your lips against his are a great distraction from the memories that are haunting him.

Jasper closes his eyes as you work on his hair. He doesn't know if the silence is dreadful or comfortable.

"Do you want to talk about what happened? I'm very worried about you, don't think I don't notice how distant you've been." You whisper with a serious expression.

He shakes his head slowly, the idea of discussing his feelings and pain being something he is not ready to do just yet. Your touches help in distract him.

"...maybe later, darlin', I'm sorry." Jasper whispers as he keep my eyes closed, focusing on the sensation of your fingers through his hair to avoid a relapse of his previous train of thought. He takes a couple of deep breaths as the gentle movement of your fingers helps him calm down and have a clearer mindset.

"Done." You said softly and clean his sweater from the fallen hair. You take on his image, his new look.

"You look real pretty, Jazz." You smiled, Jasper returned the smile in a much weaker way. He doesn't check himself in the mirror, he trusts you and knows you did a much better work than he did.

"....thank you, sugar." He whispers, feeling a little tired from all this. He holds your hand and kisses your palm.

"Cuddles?" You whisper back, he nods and picks you up to throw you in the bed with him.

He nuzzles his face on your neck, holding you so close to him. He takes a deep deep breath and closes his eyes.

".... you're- stuck with me forever...I'm sorry. You deserve someone better. I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He whispers against your skin.

"I'm happy to have you forever. I don't want anybody else." You whisper back and kiss the top of his head. He smiles weakly and hols you close, nuzzling to you like a needy kitten.

"...and I'm happy I got you too. I don't know who I'll be without you." Jasper closes his eyes and leaves gentle kisses on your neck.

"I love you so much." You whisper.

"I love you more." He answer with a gentle whisper.

"hmmm, I don't think so. I love you more than that." You speak teasingly, he chuckles softly and hugs you tightly.

"I love ya a hundred times that." He answers with a weak voice, like he's very sleepy.

"Well, I love you a thousand times that." You speak with a following giggle, Jasper chuckles and kisses your lips once more.

He's going to be okay. Here in your arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: heyyyy, here's an angsty fic because an idea came to my mind thinking about why did Jasper has such a radical haircut in between movies. And I was like "that's how you cut your hair after a breakdown." Y'know? So here's this, hope you like it, requests are open!

#jasper whitlock hale #jasper whitlock #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x male reader #effervescent #twilight x reader

[ash5monster01]

Can I get Drew Starkey with prompt 2.??

First Love

Valentines Celebration Prompt

Pairing: Drew Starkey x FemReader

Warnings: mentions of heartbreak, fluff, established relationship

2. You find an old love letter from your high school sweetheart, do you reach out?

word count: 2k

Masterlist

Valentine’s Day always brought up old memories. Thoughts to a time that didn’t even feel like you had lived it anymore. So much had changed, things you never really expected too. It’s weird that it feels so much heavier this year. Maybe since it had been ten years. A decade later and your life was not what you had wanted or expected it to be. Which explains why you pull the box stuffed away in your closet out. A layer of dust covering the top and you slowly blow it away as you pull the lid open to memories you hadn’t revisited in a very long time.

It’s the big things you notice first. The pair of roller skates you seemed to live in sophomore year of high school. A stack of year books with worn covers and faded signatures on the inside. A hoodie, one from him that overtime just became yours. Then it was the pictures. So many pictures it made you realize just how much of your life had been intertwined with his. It may have been ten years since but it was still ten years together before. Trying your best to avoid your young smiling face you find a stack of letters, rubber banded together with handwriting that is all too familiar. You knew it maybe wasn’t the best idea to read one, open old wounds, and yet you can’t stop yourself from freeing one of the envelopes.

Hello my love,

Did I happen to mention just how beautiful you looked today. I didn’t hear a single thing in Calc class because you kept brushing that perfect hair out of your face and across those shoulders. All I could think about was the smell of your perfume and wishing my head was buried in your neck. If I fail it’ll be all your fault but I wouldn’t really mind. It’d be worth it if it meant I got to keep looking at you. Just a degreeless loser with the most perfect wife. That’s right, I said wife, because I’m going to marry the hell out of you. It’s my only dream, out of all my successes in life you will always be my best one. Remember that.

Love Drew

The tears that spring to your eyes are not intentional. It was just that you had almost forgotten just how much he loved you. It was still your biggest regret that you never got to tell him just how much you loved him too. Maybe he had a girlfriend or even a different wife now but that still never stopped you from checking his Instagram and watching all of his latest movies. Which is why you’re so quick to pull up his account and scroll through the posts. He had grown up so much. He wasn’t that young 19 year old boy you used to know. He was a man now, a man you had let go of in order to not hold him back.

It’s when you accidentally double tap the screen and the heart appears do you feel your stomach drop. In instant panic you realize you’ve just become one of those crazy exes who still looks at their old boyfriend’s profile. Yet you shouldn’t feel this way. Drew was always your closest friend after all. So in order to make yourself look less crazy or possibly even more crazy, you hit the message button on the top.

Hey, was just reminiscing. So proud of all the things you have done. Hope all is well.

The internal cringe is enough for you to throw your phone across the room and pray that his famed status will keep him from ever seeing any notifications from you. Yet that isn’t proven true when your phone dings with a text from an unknown number on the other side of the room. Nervously picking it up, you prepare for whatever the text may hold.

Hey, it’s Drew. I’m really hoping this is still your number 😅

I got your DM but it feels weird messaging you of all people over Instagram

The second text comes through as you’re finished reading the first one, nerves tingling through your entire body. You hadn’t expected a DM back, let alone a text. Yet here you both were and now you had to face the consequences of your actions. You were the one who reached out first after all.

It’s still me! I would have texted but obviously your number did change

You know how awkward it seems. Texting him professionally as if he isn’t the only person in the world you are most comfortable with. You don’t have time to dwell considering another text comes through.

Yeah, I actually had to ditch it after a crazy fan incident. I would have given you my new one but honestly I figured you didn’t want it.

Of course I’d want it, no matter what you’ll be important to me

You don’t want to come off as flirty but it was true. Even if your relationship had been ten years ago. Drew held your heart and gave you every first experience of love in your life. That never goes away, he would carry those firsts around with him forever.

You home? I’m in town and I’d love to meet up

It’s not the text you expect to come after the one you just sent. Knowing Drew was so close now made you even more nervous. It had been so long. Were you really even ready for that kind of confrontation? Then again you didn’t want him to think you were still all torn up especially after you reached out to him. So you sucked it up and texted back.

Yeah! We could meet at our old place, 4 o’clock?

See you then

And just like that, you not only revisited your past memories, but were truly going to step in it. Ten years ago this was your normal routine and it was weird how getting ready for this still felt so natural after all this time. This time you put a bit more effort into your appearance. If you were going to see Drew for the first time after all these years, you had to look good.

So with your jacket wrapped tightly around you, you find yourself walking to the center of town. The bustle of familiar faces walking along the streets, colors of red and pink covering every storefront you can see. You register completely that you’re doing this on Valentine’s day. The anniversary of when you left him ten years ago. Right in front of the old diner stands Drew, bundled up and holding a single pink rose in his hand. He doesn’t see you approach right away which makes you smile just slightly.

“Hi” you hum out, all emotions leaving you but happiness. You never would’ve thought seeing him in person again would bring you this much peace. He jumps just lightly before his head swiftly turns to face you.

“Hi! There you are” he grins and you can’t help the small laugh that falls from your lips. Suddenly he’s holding the pink rose forward. “This is for you, since it’s Valentines after all”

“Are you asking me to be your Valentine?” you tease, fingers curling around the stem and lightly brushing his own. You can’t believe how long it’s been since you’ve felt his touch. Red covers the boys cheeks as you pull the flower close and take in its scent.

“No, well if you want. Yes, maybe. I don’t know anymore honestly” he flusters out and all you can do is giggle as you take a step closer to him.

“I’ll be your Valentine, considering I have been many times before” you tell him with a smile and he sighs in relief, comforted just as much by you, as you are of him.

“Let’s go inside, I don’t want you to freeze” he says, hand falling on your back and guiding you towards the door. You obey, heading straight for your old designated booth. Drew watches as you slide carefully into your side before he sits down himself.

“Look at you movie star” you grin at him after a moment, taking in his grown and handsome appearance. A fresh blush covers his cheeks as he lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m no movie star, not quite yet” he says and you roll your eyes.

“Oh please, Drew I see your face everywhere I go. Edits of you pop up on my tik tok now. Who would’ve thought my high school sweetheart would be everyone’s celebrity crush by now” you say, knocking your foot with his and he laughs lightly.

“To be honest it shocks me. At the end of the day I still am the bad guy on my claim to fame show” he says and you just smile, taking all of him in.

“That buzzed hair, been so long since I’ve seen you with shaggy hair. It’s weird how different you look and yet you’re still completely the same” you don’t mean to be sappy but sitting here of all places with him will make you like that.

“Yeah, I kinda wanted to grow it out but with filming schedules I’ve had to keep it shaved down. Maybe after though” he says running a hand over his head and you just grin.

“I can’t wait” and the sentence isn’t meant to imply you’ll be spending time together in the future, yet Drew can’t help but think of that.

“Why’d you reach out today?” he cuts to the chase and the smile quickly falls from your lips. “And don’t give me some classic bullshit response. I want the truth”

And you consider your options before finally choosing to speak.

“Every Valentine’s day I go through our box of things. Mementos of our time together, because if I’m being honest, I’m not really over it. I know I left you but it wasn’t because I didn’t love you anymore. It’s because I didn’t want to hold you back” you saw no point in lying, he deserved the truth. Even after all these years.

“You never ever held me back” he says after he lets your words sink in and you sigh, hands coming up to tug at your hair.

“It doesn’t matter Drew. I know you, you would’ve chosen me over going to LA. Chasing your dream, becoming a superstar, I wasn’t apart of that” you tell him and Drew sighs, taking a moment to think of his next words.

“You were apart of that. You always were, because none of that mattered compared to you. You were always my greatest accomplishment” and the words from that letter ring through your mind.

“Do you still love me?” you finally ask, needing to know exactly what was going through his mind.

“I never stopped” he says and finally a small smile pulls at the corner of your lips.

“Do you think I could be apart of it now? So I stop accidentally liking your instagram posts?” you ask and a belly laugh falls from the boys lips across from you.

“If you’ll have me” he says, hands reaching across and cupping yours into his own.

“Always” you tell him with a grin and just like when you two were 16 and first started to come here, he lifts off his seat and leans across the table to meet you. Searching his eyes you meet him halfway and slowly press your lips against his own. Kissing him like this again for the first time in ten years feels like a fever dream but it was perfect. He was perfect and still tasted faintly of cherries and coffee. He was the only thing you ever truly wanted.

And you got him back.

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