#it probably took them a day or two to realise

[instafic-for-readers]

2. ⟣ Toddlers In Training ⟢

Stray Kids x Platonic!Reader

Skz Family!AU | SMAU | Written | Humour

As I.N’s best friend Y/N knows the whole family pretty well, she’s asked to babysit Chris and Lixie quite often - which she couldn’t refuse having a large soft spot for the kids, this story follows her “adventures”as a babysitter and the madness which is the Skz Family unit…

(1393 Words)

⟣ Toddlers In Training ⟢ Masterlist | Main M.list

————

Chapter Two: Sooooo Cute 🥰

————

Knocking on the door, Y/N sighed - she had a great time on her bus journey over to Lina's home (note the sarcasm) and had just barely got to the door at five minutes to six. The door swung open, Lina had a bright smile on her face.

"Hey Y/N. Come in!" Y/N smiled back at the older woman, stepping through the door and removing her coat and shoes.

"Hey, sorry I wasn't here earlier. The bus took forever to get to my stop." she whined as Lina laughed,

"Oh, no worries, darling. It happens to the best of us!" the pair walk into the living room where an adorable scene took place.

Seungmin had Lixie in his arms, talking to her about where they were going and what was happening - Lixie was listening intently to her dad. Meanwhile, Hyuna and Han were talking with Chris who seemed to be in the middle of a little tantrum. They were both holding him as they spoke and he seemed to brighten up at little as his dad tickled him on the sides. Lina walked over to her sister who was sitting on the sofa, very engrossed in whatever she was doing on her phone.

"Innie, it's time for us to leave." the girl looked up from her phone, nodding before loking over towards Y/N,

"Oh hey, I didn't hear you come in." Y/N smirked before saying,

"Well, you were probably to busy thinking about your little boy toy." the teasing remark caused Innie's ears to go red as her older sister looked around towards her,

"Innie, do you have something to tell me?" the smirk on her face, showing she was teasing, Innie's ears got impossibly darker as her sister started to laugh. This caught the attention of the others in the room, Chris and Lixie squealed as they spotted thier favourite person in the room.

"Y/N!" Chris yelled jumping off of the sofa and running up to the girl, Seungmin also put Lixie down so she could say hello.

"Y/N! Y/N!" the small girl cheered, Y/N crouched down and opened her arms for the kids to run into,

"Oh, hello little ones! Are you excited for tonight?" both children nodded at her words.

"Okay babies, come and give us a hug before we leave." Hyuna spoke up, smiling at the scene. The children ran over to Hyuna and Han giving them a hug before running to Lina and Seungmin doing the same.

"Okay, you guys be good for Y/N and Innie!" Lina spoke, walking out of the door,

"Oh, Y/N, Binnie will be here later on to pick up Chris - though I don't know what time." Hyuna called as she was pushed through the door by Han.

"Okay! Have a good time guys, say hello to your parents for me." the babysitter called as she waved them off. Walking back into the house she saw Lixie and Chris sitting either side of Innie on the sofa.

"Right... what do you guys want for dinner?"

It didn't take long for the kids to set themselves up at the dinner table, colouring books and crayons infront of them keeping them quiet for now...

Y/N and Innie were preparing the meal while gossiping about what had happened since the last time they saw each other - which was like two days ago but the tea is always hot with those two, especially if Binnie's huge tiny crush on Innie was involved.

"He came into work, with two of his friends - I don't think he realised I was there at first and then they got to the counter. His friends were ordering, everything was fine and then it was his turn." Innie paused, leaning in so the kids couldn't hear, "and I kid you not, he looked at me, froze, unfroze, turned around, and walked out. His friends were like, what the fuck!" Innie giggled,

"No way! I can't belive he did that!" Y/N spoke, giggling as the image of Binnie running out of the coffee shop,

"Literally! His friends were whispering about something while they waited for thier drinks, they kept looking over at me - so like I don't think he actually speaks about me to them."

"Wait! No way... he has to speak about you?! He's literally obsessed with you!" as Y/N finished her sentence the front door opened, the girls looked at each other in concern before they heard a voice call out,

"Hey, its Changbin." the girls looked at each other with wide eyes before giggling quietly,

"Hey Binnie, we're nearly finished with dinner. Come and sit down." Y/N spoke out to the boy, while looking at Innie with a cheeky expression. Binnie walked in as Chris jumped up to go hug his older brother, his hero Y/N found out once - which she found incredibly cute. The older boy bent down to hold his baby brother as he looked up, expecting only Y/N but spotting Innie behind her, he froze.

"Uh, hello… girls." he stuttered out, unsure on what to do. They pair smile down at him with knowing looks. Lixie seems to finally notice her big cousin, jumping down to greet him - taking his attention away from Innie.

"Hey, Lixie. How are you little one?" the three cousins started to talk as Y/N and Innie plated up food, Innie lent over towards Y/N once again,

"I have to admit that was sooooo cute." Y/N giggled, nodding.

"Bets on him flirting with you in the next ten minutes?" she teased, eyebrow raised at her bedt friend.

"Ain't no way am I taking a bet I have no hope in winning." Innie challenged, Y/N laughed before picking up some plates.

"Hey, the least you could do for him is flirt back!" she turnt towards the table, but not before catching the embarrassed look on her best friends face.

After dinner, the kids were allowed to play for a little longer, Innie went to play with the kids as Y/N and Binnie tidied up.

"How's life at the moment, Bin?" Y/N spoke first, she had known Binnie as long as she had known Hyuna and Han but never really had full coverstaions with the guy.

"Uh, yeah, it's good. Uni is kicking my arse but other then that lifes good. How about you? I hope Chris has been good for you." Y/N smiled, humming before responding,

"Uni is a pain, I understand completly. Chris is an angel ninty-nine percent of the time." the pair laughed at that, his concern about his little brother made her think about the age difference between them and how shocked Y/N was at first. Until, Innie had explained the difficulties that Hyuna had getting pregnant and the many miscarriages that she had gone through - it almost caused a huge rift between her and Han because Hyuna thought he would eventually leave her, or worse cheat on her to have another child. Luckily, Han managed to calm her down and they worked it out. Two weeks later they found out that they were expecting once again - Han literally waited on her hand and foot, making sure she was never stressed about anything and thats when they had Chris - a baby most definitly born of love and adoration. The story made Y/N cry, thinking about having a love like that was almost impossible at her age.

The pair finish the dishes in silence. Walking into the lounge, Binnie spoke,

"Hey Chris, we've gotta go buddy. It's time for bed soon." Chris pouted but got up to get ready. Y/N helped him with his coat and shoes as Binnie said goodbye to Lixie and Innie. Lixie came running out to also say goodbye to Chris, who was a little off put by the hug but reciprocated anyway. The brothers walked out the door with a wave.

Soon after Lixie was put to bed, Lina and Seungmin walked through the door. Y/N and Innie were quick to greet the couple, who sent them on their way with payment and making them promise to message once they got home. The girls left, deciding to have a sleepover at Y/N's, instead of going their seperate ways in the dark.

————

⟣ Toddlers In Training ⟢ Masterlist | Chapter Three

If you want to be added to a tag list lmk!

| @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 | @chlodavids | @kpopsstuffs |

| @yukimy |

(Warning: I don’t actually ship idols/band-mates together, it’s just for subplots!)

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed this part of Toddlers In Training! I’m trying to post one part every 5ish days but as assignments and exams are coming up for uni idk how good I’ll be sticking to that!

If you like this, check out my other Stray Kids SMAU:

Oh To Be A Cat In Love <3 (Lee Know x Fem!Reader)

#⟣ Toddlers In Training ⟢ #Series #smau #lee know x fem!reader #lee know smau #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee minho x fem!reader #lee minho smau #lee minho x reader #lee minho imagines #stray kids x fem!reader #stray kids smau #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #Chapter Two: Sooooo Cute 🥰

[jgracie]

wait u are a genius and i want a full explanation of ur analysis on the florida lyrics w jason

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ FLORIDA!!! + JASON GRACE — AN ANALYSIS BY CYNTHIA

masterlist | rules

on the radio . . . florida!!! (taylor swift ft. florence + the machine)

an THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR ENABLING THIS. jason might be a little ooc in this but that's just me looking deeper into his character (something mr rick riordan failed to do). also obvs im not doing lyrics that repeat twice both times LOL also sorry if this is bad these r all off the top of my head

you can beat the heat if you beat the charges too they said i was a cheat, i guess it must be true

there are many possible meanings for the first line but im choosing to interpret it like this - you can escape their criticism if you prove them wrong. this, to me, is similar to when jason came back to camp jupiter. when leo (unwillingly) fired against camp jupiter, the romans immediately began attacking. instead of fighting them himself, jason begs them to listen to him and tells them he's on their side (thus trying to beat the charges of being a traitor)

however, it didn't work and he ended up getting a brick thrown at him and passing out - "they said i was a cheat, i guess it must be true" - while taylor's saying cheat as in a cheater (romantic relationships), for jason this refers to the emotional cheating he did on camp jupiter. sure, he didn't want his memory wiped and to be placed in a whole new camp with the greeks, but he liked it, so in a way he did cheat

and my friends all smell like weed or little babies and this city reeks of driving myself crazy

we all know jason never fit in in camp jupiter. even in his pre-memory loss days, he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb (despite also being their golden child and the son of the camp's namesake). when he comes back to camp jupiter, jason feels even more left out - his friends are all either stuck in the past and incapable of growing and developing ("all smell like weed") or have moved on an extraordinary amount which he cannot keep up with ("or little babies")

as i said above, jason didn't fully merge with his fellow romans. a primary example of this is the fact that he willingly joined the fifth cohort simply to improve it, and im pretty sure he says somewhere he's always been a little more rebellious than the average roman. it also took him a lot of effort to become praetor. coming back to camp jupiter probably brought back all the judgement and criticism he received from the romans - "and this city reeks of driving myself crazy". the verb "reeks" also implies a bad smell, not a good one, so the memories are not a good kind of nostalgia

little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in so you work your life away just to pay for a time-share down in destin

okay so the first part - "little did you know your home's really only / a town you're just a guest in" - again, emphasises how alone and solitary jason feels in camp jupiter. however, i'd like to bring up the fact that percy became praetor within a week (? if not less) of arriving at camp jupiter. praetor is a position which jason grovelled for for ages, only for some random greek guy to be able to replace him after one single quest. why? well, that's simply because the romans saw him as a guest, not a resident of camp or new rome - someone who is temporary and will leave to go somewhere else eventually

jason has been a member of camp jupiter since he was two. he was quite literally working his life away, work is all he ever knew since his childhood was robbed from him so quickly. he worked so hard just to become praetor and so he could make a change and maybe finally fit in with his fellow romans. however, he simply ended up with a timeshare - which (according to google) is "shared ownership of vacation property" - he and percy practically shared the position of praetor, and both saw camp jupiter as somewhere temporary (although jason realised that later on), just like how a vacation home isn't the place you're going to stay in forever

florida is one hell of a drug florida can i use you up?

for jason, florida is camp half-blood. while camp jupiter is orderly and constantly forces him into tight lines, camp half-blood allows him to express himself for who he really is and makes him feel as if he were on cloud nine (similar to how a drug makes you feel when you're high)

however, jason is still hesitant to fully commit to camp half-blood. after all, his father is jupiter, not zeus. could he really be a part of the greeks, or will they see him as foreign too? ("can i use you up?")

the hurricane with my name when it came i got drunk and i dared it to wash me away

in the song, florence welch is referencing hurricane florence, which caused major damage in south-east of the US. since jason is the son of the god of winds and sky, in a way, all hurricanes have his name since they're all semi-controlled by his father - hurricanes run in his blood. he probably sees himself as the hurricane, causing damage to both others and himself. he most likely feels like the piece of domino which started the chain of disasters he and his friends faced, since his arrival at camp half-blood is what began the second great prophecy (for them)

i'm choosing to interpret "i got drunk" as jason changing once he got introduced to the life and culture of greek demigods. he was no longer perfect, proper praetor jason grace. although it (naturally) took him some time, he became wild and carefree like them, similar to how a drunk person may act. this also ties in with the idea of camp half-blood being like a drug to him. everything about it is addictive, the more he gets, the more he wants

barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine

the bottle of wine here is a symbol for camp half-blood. when jason feels unsafe, he chooses the greek camp over the roman to keep him company.

also, this lyric is reminiscent of the great war - "i drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone" - in which taylor swift isolates herself from everyone else and dwells on the end of her relationship with her ex, which in turn makes her believe they were the bad one in the relationship. similarly, jason is often depicted as thinking about his days at camp jupiter (the few memories he can recall, at least) and from what i can remember it's never really fond. the more he thinks about it, the less camp jupiter feels like home. this reaches a climax in house of hades when he speaks to the god of the southern winds and realises he wants to stay at camp half-blood - he drank his poison and killed any tie he had with camp jupiter

well, me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine

i think this is pretty self explanatory. growing up in the harsh environment of camp jupiter, jason has killed and witnessed death to the point where he seems desensitised to it. however, jason is soft on the inside. he puts up a facade when he's praetor jason grace, not letting anyone else see how much this affected him - "yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine"

and your cheating husband disappeared, well no one asks any questions here

i feel like this is him talking to reyna directly (real ones know i am the biggest jeyna shipper so obviously i had to bring them up LMAO). since praetors often end up being in romantic relationships, jason was probably seen by a lot of romans (especially the more traditional ones) as reyna's husband, despite them never even dating

you can sense a bit of snark here as well with "no one asks any questions here" - again, i bring up the fact that the romans were incredibly quick to accept jason's betrayal of camp jupiter, even though he didn't, and reyna siding with them (even though she knows its not true)

a cheating husband is also mentioned in fortnight ("my husband is cheating / i wanna kill him") which i believe is reyna's song but that's a story for another day

so i did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body and in my mind, they sink into the swamp is that a bad thing to say in a song?

this is the turning point - the scene in hoh where jason makes the choice between camp jupiter and camp half-blood. he lets go of his past and everyone he knew pre-memory loss ("so i did my best to lay to rest / all of the bodies that have ever been on my body"). please keep the line "i did my best" in mind, as healing isn't a linear process and obviously there were some days where jason wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were

a swamp is described as 'uncultivated', meaning you can't grow any plants in it. similarly, his relationships with the romans will never grow back as "they sink into the swamp"

"is that a bad thing to say in a song?" PURE SASS. he's mocking the ideals of romans but for once doing it without fear. he's saying sure, it might be, but do i care? no 🥰

little did you know your home's really only the town you'll get arrested so you pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in texas

this is once again referencing the fact that jason was exiled from camp jupiter after his 'betrayal', even though he should be the first person they trust in a confusing time like this - discovering there are whole other counterparts of the Gods they know and love. not only because he's praetor (reyna is praetor too, after all), but because he's been at camp for the majority of his life

i need to forget, so take me to florida i've got some regrets, i'll bury them in florida tell me im despicable, say it's unforgivable at least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up florida

again, pretty self explanatory considering the themes of drugs and alcohol i've mentioned above. jason wants to forget (haha very funny cynthia you all say in unison) anything and everything to do with camp jupiter and roman culture, so naturally, he runs to their antithesis - camp half-blood. i like to think if you played a song in his head while he was choosing between cj and chb it'd be this banger of a bridge

however, he still feels guilty. after all, loyalty is a very serious thing for romans. i think reyna tells annabeth something about how if you swear on your life and break that swear, the romans won't hesitate to actually kill you. no matter how much jason tries to pull away from roman culture, some things (like the loyalty) simply run in his blood - "tell me i'm despicable, say it's unforgivable" he wants to be held accountable by anyone, even though he knows his friends on the argo ii are the last people who'd judge him

"fuck me up florida" is jason completely succumbing to everything greek. we all know how the romans look down at greeks (prime examples being the ghosts calling percy graecus as an insult when he arrives and octavian immediately assuming the worst when the argo ii arrived). to the romans, the greeks are lousy and messy, everything they don't want to be. jason has always been this way deep down. he's willing to let the greeks completely fuck him up

love left me like this and i don't want to exist so take me to florida

love has constantly been bringing jason down. he has a big heart and yet he's lacking so much luck in that department. his relationship with reyna was completely destroyed the moment hera took his memory and put him on that wilderness school bus, and he and piper's relationship has always been awkward, ending in them breaking up and dating someone else while he was left truly alone

here, i don't think chb is florida. however, i don't want to say its elysium because that hurts. so lets just say its a magical place where everything is perfect and he can escape

(take me to) florida

i chose this specific one for the (take me to) bit, which sounds exactly like the "take me to" in the lakes - "take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die"

i don't remember if this was ever mentioned/implied anywhere in the books or if it's something my brain came up with and i accepted as canon, but jason is definitely the type of person who romanticises things he shouldn't. the lakes is one of the the most romantic places in england and is a commonly used date spot

here, jason wants nothing more than to just die peacefully (he is the poet) than have to endure any more pain and misery. what better place to die than in his florida? (i read somewhere that he was buried in cj and nothing makes me wanna kill myself more LMAO)

#jason grace #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #jason heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo #jason hoo #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department #florida!!! #cynwrites

[fragmentedblade]

Just how big was Teng Xiao if Cirrus calls Jing Yuan a "lightweight"???

#I talk too much #I should probably delete this later #I guess they don't mean it physically and more in countenance given the insults they direct to Jing Yuan #but that was my first thought lmao #I keep forgetting people here don't age so I always picture the masters old or at least like Gongshu aesthetically #so this line made me reconsider how Teng Xiao may have looked like #I always think of him‚ Fu Xuan's master and Huaiyan‚ for example‚ as old(ish) people #until the reminder of how they don't age hits me on the temple with a pan lol #The one time I saw Huaiyan art it took me a moment to place who that pretty man was because it wasn't anything like I pictured him #And then the idea that he could actually look like that even nowadays dawned on me like a punch. Same thing happened with Fu Xuan's master #Yet even after the punches I keep forgetting after two days and go on to think of them as rather old looking #only to be hit with the realisation again at some other time. Like right now xD #Super funny that he just pushes the fight on us. In line with his 'okay but why do I have to deal with this? This spark isn't even worth it #And then he pulls the 'if you lose you must answer one question without lies or tricks'. The same guy who can't be named in front of #the prisoner who collaborates with the interrogations of the Ten Lords Commission and that has a few free days yearly #This is so his way of doing things and god I love him so much for it #Odysseu.s-adjacent kind of character. A scoundrel truly in many regards‚ Fu Xuan was so right. I love him so. He should have been my fave 😔 #Cirrus talked about chessboard‚ pieces and pawns. I love how Jing Yuan's opponents keep talking in chess metaphors #And how he manauvers conflict and his moves in a similar fashion yet how he draws a clear line between real conflict and a chess match #when asked if war is truly similar to a xiangqi game #Ahfksjkd I love him sooo much haha

[livinginshambles]

I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.

Probably part one of two again.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.

Masterlist. Part two. Part three

--------------------------------

You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.

You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.

James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.

It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.

Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.

If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.

A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.

Maybe she will.

You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.

That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.

In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.

Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.

But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.

Who are you?

You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.

You’d be disappointed.

I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.

James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.

He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.

But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.

Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?

You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.

No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.

You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.

“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.

“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.

His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.

“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”

“No.”

“Well I did.”

“So it seems.”

“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.

“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.

“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.

“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.

You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”

“Do I have to pay rent?”

“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”

“So not then.”

You huffed.

“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”

“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”

Regulus shook his head in amusement.

Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.

You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.

“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.

For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.

You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”

It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.

James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.

His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.

“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.

“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.

You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.

Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”

“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.

“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.

“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”

You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.

Maybe he was a twat.

Am I a twat?

What the bloody hell are you on about?

Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.

Did you deserve it?

Sort of.

Sort of?

I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.

You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.

Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.

You reckon?

Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.

On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?

If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.

Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?

James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.

Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.

It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.

Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.

“Out with it.”

You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.

“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.

“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”

It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.

Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”

You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”

Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.

“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“

You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”

Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.

“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.

“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.

“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”

James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.

It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.

There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.

James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.

For two different reasons.

James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.

He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.

James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.

Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.

You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”

James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”

Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.

But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.

“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.

James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”

“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”

Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”

“You know you can call me James, right?”

“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.

“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”

You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”

“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”

His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.

“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.

“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.

“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.

“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”

The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.

James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.

“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”

“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.

James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.

The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .

“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.

You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.

“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.

“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.

“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.

“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.

You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.

By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.

You got up as well.

“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”

James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.

“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.

In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.

Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.

James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.

A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”

When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.

Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.

“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.

You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.

I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.

 Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.

James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.

Preview of part two

Part two

Taglist:

@bath1lda @lilianelena39 @quackitysdrugdealer @princessprongs @clumsyassbitch @thecraziestcrayon @themoonofeternity @ttkttt @rentaldarling @handybrownpurse @elsie-bells

@charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @middle-of-the-earth @shrekscrustybudassy @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @kquil @moonys-luvr @mindflay3r @nokkoongie

#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter x fem!reader #marauders era #marauders #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter oneshot #marauder x reader #young james potter

[the-modern-typewriter]

Imagine a villain straight refusing to fight another member of the Hero Team just cuz his hero archnemesis is not present

"Where are they?"

"Oh, not again." The protagonist could feel a headache coming on. "Look-"

"-Are they hurt?" The villain's eyes went dark and dangerous. "Who hurt them?"

"They're fine! Oh my god."

"Then where are they?"

The protagonist definitely had a headache. "It's their day off."

"They didn't tell me they had the day off. What's wrong?"

The really concerning part was that the hero probably would tell the villain which days they were working and which they weren't. The two of them were as bad as each other! The hero was going to be unbearable when they came back and found out that the team had fought the villain without them.

"Can we just get this over with?" the protagonist tried.

"No."

The protagonist sighed. They pinched the bridge of their nose and took a few deep breaths. "Okay," they said slowly. "But you realise I'm still going to have confiscate your nightmare robot."

"It's not for you. And don't think I didn't notice you dodging the question!"

The protagonist considered their options; lies, truth, everything in between.

The villain's nightmare robot hunkered down a little more pointedly in the middle of the bridge. Several people honked their horns. It was, honestly, embarrassing for everyone involved at that point.

"Their grandma died."

"Oh no." The villain's whole face softened. "Grandma L or Grandma P?"

Of course he knew the hero's grandparents. Of course he did. "Look, about the robot-"

"-I'll reschedule," the villain said.

"I can't let you keep the robot. My boss would have my head."

"That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have flowers to send."

The protagonist's eye twitched. "If you try and walk away with it-"

"-Do you really want to traumatize this entire bridge of innocent civilians?"

"I'm sure they're traumatized having to listen to you two idiots on a weekly basis."

"I'm taking the robot. When are they back?"

"They haven't said," the protagonist said, through gritted teeth. "As you know-"

"-They'll be doing all the funeral arrangements. Yeah. You know what, give me their number. I'll text them."

"I'm not giving you their number."

"Why not?"

"It's against policy."

"I'd like to express my condolences."

The protagonist looked them dead in the face. "Mm. That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have a robot to confiscate."

The robot slammed a fist into the bridge. It wobbled precariously.

The protagonist raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. They folded their arms across their chest.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" the villain snarled.

"I hate you too, don't worry."

"I should kill you."

"They'd have so much paperwork when they got back from the funeral. It would really improve their month, you killing me."

They ended up glaring at each other.

"If I give you the bloody stupid robot, will you give me their number?"

The protagonist smiled sweetly. "That's the only smart thing I've ever heard you say."

Everyone, generally, preferred it when the hero was around.

They all made sure it didn't happen again.

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero x villain #villain x hero #short story #writing snippet #story snippet #ficlet #villains #heroes #idiots in love

[thelov3lybookworm]

As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…

Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???

(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)

Tolerate it.

Summary: She is fed up.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.

Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.

It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.

Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.

It made Y/n smile.

Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.

Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.

Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.

So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.

Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.

Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.

Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.

It definitely was not her, that was for sure.

Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.

Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.

She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.

It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.

With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.

Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.

But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.

Y/n blinked.

Or... could she?

Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.

Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.

Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.

Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.

Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.

Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.

Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.

When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.

Those days were far gone now.

•○🌑○•

Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.

And that was downplaying what she felt.

The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.

So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.

She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.

She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.

The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.

It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.

The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.

He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.

He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.

He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.

Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.

"Good morning love. Look-"

"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.

"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."

Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"

Azriel froze. "What?"

Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."

Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."

Doubtful.

Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.

He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.

She did not miss how he recoiled.

Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.

Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.

She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.

She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.

Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.

And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.

She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.

She deserved to be cherished.

•○🌑○•

Part 2

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fic #acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #mating bond #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x you

[reiderwriter]

♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡

Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡

Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)

A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 

“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 

“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 

“But I'm not a woman.” 

“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 

“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 

“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 

It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.

The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 

Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 

“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 

“And your name is?” 

“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 

You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 

“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 

Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 

With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 

He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 

“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 

“Good observation, Spencer.” 

“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 

“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 

His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 

Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 

A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 

When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 

You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 

You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 

Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 

He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 

You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 

So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 

“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 

“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 

He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 

“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 

“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 

“I-I'm not a student, and-” 

“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 

His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 

His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 

Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 

Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 

He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 

His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 

“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 

“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 

“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 

His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 

You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 

You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 

He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 

You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 

“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 

He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 

He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 

With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 

“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 

“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 

“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 

“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 

He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 

You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 

You weren't. 

“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 

You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 

There was always tomorrow. 

He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 

He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 

Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 

He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.

“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 

You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 

The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 

It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.

“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 

He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 

Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 

“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.

“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 

He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 

Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 

“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 

“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 

“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 

“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 

“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 

You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 

“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 

The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 

Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 

“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 

He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 

“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 

“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 

“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 

Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 

“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 

His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 

You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 

“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 

His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 

“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 

“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 

You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 

“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 

“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 

He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 

“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 

“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 

“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 

“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 

“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 

His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 

“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 

He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 

“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 

He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 

“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 

“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 

“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 

He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 

“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 

“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 

But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 

“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 

This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 

You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 

It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 

“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 

Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 

“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 

His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

[taegularities]

colour me in: redraft | jjk (m)

Summary: The calm is more appreciated after a storm. Life with Jungkook proves to you that sometimes, joy can, in fact, overshadow grief. Yet, not without confronting and removing all hurdles standing in your way once and for all.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; some tame angst, sooo much fluff, smut ➳ warnings: new relationshippppp, so much hugging and kissing, yoongi!! tae!!, tears, abandonment issues, talk about social anxiety (just briefly and nothing serious!), jungkook drops a big question :'), a surprise in the middle, a surprise near the end, and then a SURPRISE at the end lol, many surprises, they're so crazy for each other it's gross; explicit sexual content: okay – kook is wearing a chain.. this vibe :'), making out, showering together, shower sex, spanking, biting, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, mouth/face f*cking, mirrorssss, he likes her ass and tiddies, tears, choking, v brief ass stuff, rough and soft sex, dom and big cawk jk, vocal jk, multiple orgasms, they're simps; ALSO YEAH THE ENDING :') ➳ word count: 25.3k ➳ a/n: so when i said this chapter would be shorter… welp lol. but i still think it introduces the next arc really well. i kinda love the ending!! .. and the next part will be </3 :'''') as always beta'd by my lovely @missgeniality 🤍 i hope you guys like this one a lot. worked my ass off for this fr :') if you do, please do support the chapter and interact with me, too, it makes my day <3 ➳ listen to: i need u by yaeow | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs | DC SERVER

Monday morning’s breakfast is awkward. Or at least, the very first minute of it.

The hands of your watch drift to 9 AM; you should’ve expected you wouldn’t be occupying the dining table alone. Your parents, sipping the last of their coffee, aren’t that much of a surprise after all.

You breathe a quiet breath of relief when their eyes dart towards your timid forms at the threshold, then back to the table. And a moment later, they’re pushing their chairs back across the marble floor before they clear the path to breakfast for the two of you.

Your father acknowledges you with a brief, polite nod on his way out, even flashing a similarly quick smile. Ingenuine, because his glance, fleeting when directed to you, is as disappointed as your Mom’s behind him.

Today, you understand. Somewhere in the depths of your recovering mind, you feel upset about shitfacing yourself so thoroughly, too.

You haven’t seen your mother in over two days. Jungkook’s post-showcase confessions brought you to Eun, and the next morning you barely scanned your room before you left for her place again.

Guess the momentary encounter in the hallway doesn’t quite count; you could hardly crack your eyes open. Combined with half the dozen naps you took in your locked room the very next day, you won’t exactly expect pride from her right now.

Until now, as she advances towards your body, you didn’t consider much of her side; you stayed focused on the other occurrences passing after sunset. Moments whose scent your sheets still carry.

As your mother comes to a stand, you prepare your vocal cords, breathing in to explain yourself until you realise that she isn’t looking at you at all. Her eyes are firmly glued to Jungkook’s face, devoid of enmity for once.

Instead, she flattens her dress, sighing through her red-tinted lips before she nods towards him and simply says, “Thank you.”

And that’s it. A little breathtaking, entirely new.

You’re dumbfounded when she leaves; Jungkook doesn’t manage a single word. You imagine that if you’re baffled, he’s probably rethinking her words to assure he didn’t hallucinate them.

But neither of you did. And the silence lingering for a couple more seconds proves the depth of reality; not that you’ll change your mind about leaving your place. But the hint of appreciation, shot directly at him is a pleasant first nevertheless.

Breakfast is patient but fast. The quiet atmosphere doesn’t derive from the night before or what your mother just left you with, but from the emotional fatigue slowly dropping off your shoulders.

Jungkook lets you feast in peace, a soft palm rubbing over the back of your hand every now and then to assure you’re okay. And you are. You’re getting used to these changes.

To this alternative to whatever you feared before. A chance to erase all words and start on a blank page; a white canvas, waiting for vibrant colours instead of monochrome gloom.

Yet, despite the tranquillity last night, still present in the air and in your aching limbs, you don’t understand the sincerity of all the confessions he uttered until you leave.

Because breathing in your car isn’t as suffocating as it was the last few weeks. Back when you’d navigate through the town alone, the passenger seat empty. Or when you plucked up the courage and drove to the showcase numbly.

Or when the pain pierced through your chest; when your drunk ass thought the world would  remain blue forever.

All of it is gone when you buckle up, shifting in your seat as you announce, “Okay. Let’s finally get you home.”

The engine roars for a moment, the car trembling, but you only register the knot in your throat when he says, “Feels so unfair of me. Having my girl drive me around so much.”

You don’t miss the endearment; neither the way your heart skips a beat.

Incapable of a proper reaction, you clear your throat and stutter, all at once and oddly in succession until you settle on a weak, “Why unfair?”

“Because. You do it a lot.”

You really do not. The night the museum closed and you dropped him off at your place was one of a few times; besides, he’s operated your vehicle more than enough before, too.

But you don’t contradict him, instead lightly suggest, “Well, you can drive if you want.”

You’re relieved when he joins your smile, dimples ever-so-sweet and genuine as he promises, “It’s fine. I’ll just stare at you.”

The shudder along your spine is delightful — relentless, he keeps your nerves alight. Perhaps he’s back to the self you knew pre-broken-hearts, playful and teasing, but the effect of his words curses through your veins hotter than ever.

“That’s creepy,” you still retort; you’ll gladly keep fighting this sweet, awkward battle against compliments for life, unaware how to handle them. “And it makes me nervous.”

“Sorry.”

Jungkook laughs, the back of two fingers reaching to your cheek to graze it featherlightly. Maybe he feels the heat beneath your skin, enhanced through his touch.

By now, you’ve spent a year with him — as a party fling, a class frenemy and a blue flower. But each second ticking away brings a new wave of soft, shy speechlessness. New honeymoon emotions.

The certainty of his reciprocated feelings, the fact that you’re finally on the same page, makes you rethink his tender confessions and touches differently. Makes you navigate the relationship differently.

His eyes drift back to the quiet, narrow street, surrounded by houses and blooming gardens. Probably as tired of the idyllic utopia as you, he doesn’t spare the suburban setting any more attention.

He only lets a flat hand rub against his thighs, nipping at his clothing as he says, “God, I can’t wait to get out of these damn joggers.”

Right. While not a main focus, you did find the special attire at breakfast today quite amusing.

“Did you even get to shower since picking me up?” you ask.

“Yeah. When you were napping again yesterday. Just gotta wash my hair later tonight.”

Hmm. You spent half your day knocked out; Jungkook could’ve circled the world and you wouldn’t have known.

“Oh. Good.”

The road proceeds straight, emptier near the suburbs. You allow a reckless glance before tackling busy streets; his eyes meet yours in curiosity, hair even messier than the night he met you in front of the bar.

When he left his apartment in joggers and an old shirt, mane untamed and no extra clothing at hand, he probably didn’t expect to abandon his place for so long. It gives you solace that he doesn’t regret it.

You drop the million memories of yesterday’s sunset burning into your eyes and everything that introduced it. The drunk words and the begging.

And then drop everything that followed afterwards; more pleading, more touching, more confessions that were in no way uttered through inebriate but not quite through sobriety either.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

You drop all the remembrances to focus on the moment; just to make sure that it’s real. So you ask, “Why didn’t you wash your hair there, too?”

For a moment, you see a flicker in his eyes, short-lived and quick; and his answer shoots out even more rapidly, “Just so.”

He emphasises his admission with a shrug of his shoulder, but it’s not nearly as convincing as he anticipates. Not buying a word, you push again, “C’mon.”

“I swear.”

“I’m curious now, though.”

There’s a momentary drop of silence before Jungkook hums, thinking as though he’s crafting a plausible excuse. Then, he says, “I didn’t wanna be away for too long.”

“…Why?”

“Why would I want to be?”

Ah…

Hmm. Well, maybe that’s enough for now.

Maybe he’s still not used to laying his secrets open. Maybe you need to practise patience, too, and stop digging like that.

You know that’s not all there is, but you certainly understand that it’s not a lie after all. Despite the pause and the obvious way his brain racked for a reason, his tone is genuine. You’ve experienced his insecurities before — that’s not what it was this time.

So you focus on the steering wheel instead, turning it left and away from the truck you drove way too close to. Your distraction might kill you — right there, next to you, clearing his throat and sitting up.

“Oh,” he says, segueing, and you let him, “wait, I forgot. Could we stop by at Yoongi’s for a sec? I wanted to see how he’s been doing.”

An abrupt change in topics, but not too abstract. As someone merely acquainted with the man, you’ve been collecting info on his state from Jimin; of course Jungkook would drop by personally.

You take a look at your digital watch; it’s barely ten and you don’t need to get away before 10:45. Taehyung agreed to meet with you to accompany you to your new potential flat again, so you should have time for a detour.

But.

“Is he…” you start, “gonna be okay with me being there?”

“Why?”

“I mean, just ‘cause… You know. We weren’t the closest for a while.”

Jungkook’s forehead wrinkles in new perplexion, muttering a few words. It takes a couple seconds — but eventually, he figures out that you’re not referring to Yoongi and yourself, and his expression changes immediately.

To subtle pain, you’d guess, like he doesn’t want to relive the memory. Like it never happened; like you weren’t two pieces of the same shattered heart this entire time.

But then he sighs, a hand wandering to your thigh. He kneads it softly, as a reminder to himself and to you that the past isn’t transpiring right now; that you’ve finally breathed and waded through it.

His optimism is encouraging when he says, “Nah. He thinks you’re cool.”

“I guess,” you mumble. You tap the steering wheel nervously, lips in a thin line before you add a hushed, “And if not, that’s alright, isn’t it? Like, hey, as long as you like me? Yeah, I shouldn’t overthink it…”

Jungkook releases air through his nose. You perceive a subtle shake of his head, as if to scold you, hear him say earnestly but gently, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t just like you.”

And whether casual or not, his words engulf your body immediately, like a soothing warm touch across your chest, yet effectively freezing your beating heart in place.

You can’t pinpoint whether the weight of his own words ever affects him as much as it affects you, or whether harbouring these emotions has become a familiar habit to him. At least to you, his tone is conversational and promising, perhaps even subliminally reassuring.

“At the very least,” he continues, “he’ll never disapprove of you the way Jimin disapproves of me.”

Which… snaps you back into reality for a second.

Your friend’s name is connected to more than mere dislike for the man next to you; currently, you think of dark nights and lamp-lit streets. After-midnight shenanigans and near tears in your own car, driven by the man who broke and mended your heart.

It reminds you of a blurry picture; two guys standing near an entrance, the older of them patting the other’s shoulder; smiling at him.

You do wonder if it was a fabrication of your mind.

“Forget Jimin,” you tell Jungkook, speech broken when you take another left and resumed when broader streets start. “Also. He did say he’s growing fond of you.”

“Because you like me. I still need to prove my worth to him.”

You tut.

“Kook, you don’t need to do anything. He’ll come around eventually. Just be you.”

“It’s fine, honestly.” He leans in, nudging your elbow, echoing you with a teasing undertone as he says, “As long as you like me.”

You love it when the initial nature of your relationship breaks through the mist of newfound passion; when you find the foundation of what you were, remembering how you landed here.

Which is why you bite back a laugh the moment you suppress a sassy, teasing remark, as if on reflex. One steer shy from pulling into a parking lot, you breathe out. If you halted here now, you’d kiss him, you’re sure.

But you merely laugh, squinting your eyes as you say, “You’re okay.”

Yoongi’s apartment, now inhabited by only one instead of two people, lies a couple miles from the campus. Jungkook guides you through the streets, jumping from one harmless topic to another — you reach his friend’s place a lot faster than you expected.

The building stands at a quiet place, surrounded by mid-high trees that give the grey colour of the complex a bit of liveliness. You walk to the entrance laughing about something stupid, a subtle nudge of his shoulder here, you pushing against his arm there.

But despite the familiarity and whatever occurred last weekend, it’s still odd jumping into the girlfriend role just yet. The word itself won���t even roll off your tongue very easily so far because you can’t believe a thing about this new reality.

So your hand dangles next to his awkwardly. Your thoughts keep drifting, registering half his sentence at times. What-if situations of gentle kisses and upcoming nights spent together tighten your chest.

Jungkook’s speech is clear and fluent, so you don’t know what your impact on him is exactly. At least he’s made sure you do have one on him — but you still wish you had a map through his mind to understand every thought he houses for you. Every emotion.

On the way up you feel a little dizzy; whether it’s due to the circular shape of the staircase or his proximity, you don’t know. You only realise that something’s still bothering you when you’re halfway up, coming to a halt with one foot on the next step.

“Okay, seriously,” you say, and he turns to you immediately, puzzled as he drops to the same level as you. Close to you.

“What?”

“You said you didn’t wanna leave,” you repeat, still stuck on the hair washing and staying longer thought, “why not?”

The answer could be simple. Could be rooted in emotions and the confessions you later uttered — but there must be something more. You saw it in the brief feeling flashing across his eyes, sitting in the passenger’s seat with silence sealing his lips.

Maybe something happened… because something always happens.

“You’re still thinking about that?” Jungkook questions, eyes wide in disbelief; lips pouting.

“No secrets, right?”

This seems to snap him out of all mysteries, last night’s conversation travelling to the forefront of his mind. But something about your curiosity amuses him. He wraps the fingers of his left hand around the staircase reeling, head dropping with a delicate smile.

His hair hides his eyes, but you know they’re sparkling; voice a mild drizzle when he starts, “It’s…” He draws in, inked digits touching your elbow before moving up your arm absentmindedly. “Don’t worry so much. It’s nothing harmful at all.”

You wait. Let his thumb graze your neck, up to your chin.

He sighs, almost exasperated in a way. “You speak in your sleep, you know?”

Wait. What?

You blink, thoughts disoriented. The staircase is dimly lit, but you recognise the slight upward curve of his lips; more empathetic than teasing.

So you still do?

“Huh?” you make.

“I think you dreamed of waking up a couple times? You hadn’t, though, and it’d always be something about being alone again.”

Again.

The word reverberates through your mind, dragging and stretching. Didn’t you once read that a broken heart is akin to serious rehab, accompanied by withdrawal symptoms and slowly healing scars?

You guess your heart was hurting more than you already knew.

“Okay,” you say, nodding when he does, thumb lifting your head when you drop it. You swallow thickly. “What did I say exactly?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know anymore. Something about me leaving. And I was scared of waking you up while gone ‘cause you’d actually think I’d left.”

You hum. Allow yourself a moment to process the info; you seek out fragments of your dreams, but you draw a blank. You feel guilty about his concerns, yet relieved. Vulnerable. And somewhat reassured.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say.

Your voice is barely above a whisper — less because of the conversation. More because of the touch on your cheek. It’s soft against your skin, and you shiver. The flutter in your chest is only just bearable.

That’s the thing about falling in love. It’s sweet — so much sometimes that it twists your guts. You’re in so deep, you could hurl.

“Nah. You don’t need to worry about this anymore, okay?” he murmurs.

His eyes dig into yours. Dark and shiny through his healthy tresses, livelier than ever. Sincere. 

You, on the other hand, must look unconvinced without intending to, because his mouth aligns with yours soon after.

He exhales, tilting his head, and says, “Look,” leans in, leaves a featherlight kiss against your cheek, right next to his thumb, “I mean it.”

Guess being with him comes with occasional mental blackouts. And regular arrhythmia. The palpitations behind your ribs are almost ridiculous; instead of gripping your own chest, you grasp his shirt immediately.

Lightly, as if you could collapse without this anchor.

He lets you pull him closer just a little, whispering as if someone could hear, “What’s wrong?”

Vulnerability hidden, you blink again, and joke, “Nothing. Just thought you were gonna kiss me.”

Jungkook smiles. His nose brushes against yours, toying a bit, and his bunny teeth make him look somewhat younger when he voices, “You want me to kiss you?”

“I always do.”

Your grin is playful, but your heart is pounding in your chest. Who would’ve thought the journey from a car to an apartment could be so long, so thrilling?

His snicker is gentle and canorous, knees careful against yours. Your heartbeat accelerates some more, rose-tinted lips opting towards their goal. You part your mouth, ready with a deep breath.

But the two of you are always subject to disturbances — so you’re disappointed but not surprised when you hear rushed steps on top of the staircase, strolling down and crossing your path just when Jungkook backs away.

The stranger passes by you with initial surprise in his eyes, not expecting you, but soon gets over it and drops his gaze again. And once he’s gone, Jungkook winks, a hand on your back pushing you forward gently.

“Later,” he says.

You know as you ascend the stairs.

Know that with the ease with which you handle your feelings for each other, you’ll strive towards a future where you won’t be haunted by dreams of being alone. Where you won’t fear his departure, and where his kisses won’t be interrupted by this cruel world.

The building reminds you of when you’d frequent the dorm you used to know. The walls and hallways are similarly built, narrow and somewhat cheap. They look like most buildings from the inside do, honestly, but you like the pleasant illusion the nostalgia brings.

Even the bathrooms are located near the end of the hallways; Jungkook once told you that Tae and Yoongi have their own kitchen, unlike him back when he still housed his dorm. But there’s a communal bathroom here, too; allegedly one reason why Tae moved out.

The only thing that separates this place from Jungkook’s old dorm is the subtle difference in scent. Not pure testosterone.

You smile.

The mood doesn’t match with what you felt back in June at all.

Back when you stomped to Jungkook’s dorm, furious about yet another insignificant issue, you didn’t think your fingers would ever be brushing his like they are now. Or when you escaped the rain and entered the building’s warmth, your umbrella leaving behind a trail of raindrops.

Your relationships, your priorities, your emotions. Your universe changed faster than the seasons.

As you walk past a random door, Jungkook cranes his neck, staring as if he could x-ray-glare a hole into it and glance at what lays behind it. Perhaps he’s thinking back, too.

You don’t know about all the things he experienced throughout the years there. Part of your heart stings because you remember you weren’t the only girl who ever frequented his place.

But you still left an impression — if the current status of your relationship isn’t proof of it, then the sudden touch along the back of your hand certainly is. A thumb following a vein blindly, opting to grasp your palm into his, yet retracting when you finally come to a stand.

The digit caressing your skin lifts to the door, and his knuckles knock three times, rhythmically. Your chest constricts as you jump back into the moment, probably half as nervous as you’d be if you met Jungkook’s parents.

A moment stretches as you wait for Yoongi to open, allowing yourself just another spiralling thought as you imagine actually daring a meeting with Jungkook’s parents. It’s too early to think about it, isn’t it?

It’s just.

Since yesterday, you’ve created a dozen different scenarios in your head, ranging from a civil, calm conversation with his father to a full snap. Half of you wants to know his genuine thoughts on his son’s sorrows; the other half wants to rage and then bolt away.

Ugh.

When the door swings open, your hand flashes to Jungkook’s. A startled instinct, even though nothing about the action was surprising or scary. But he doesn’t mind — of course he doesn’t.

His eyes rush to yours for a second, warm and somewhat thrilled, his smile permanent. And then he looks back at his friend, quietly squeezing your palm, the shy smile soft as he greets, “You’re walking without clutches, huh?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond right away. He looks from Jungkook to you and back. His gaze isn’t very telling, but you find amusement in it. If you weren’t so ridiculously and inexplicably nervous about his upcoming statement, you’d laugh.

Intently, he grants a peek at your entwined hands, and when he looks at the two of you again, he starts…

Smiling.

Gummies all out, a tiny laugh thrown in between before he says, “Ohoho. You’re here, too?”

The smile turns into a sly grin, a hand clutching the frame of the door. You guess he’s not as balanced after all. Possibly just abandoned his clutches for the short way from the couch to the door.

“I can totally go,” you tell him, the teasing tone missing; soft and small instead.

“Why in the world would you?” Yoongi steps aside carefully, nodding the two of you inside. You oblige, hearing his voice behind you jest, “Now, would you look at that. Did I do that?”

Jungkook automatically drops on the chair at the tiny dining table, like he’s arrived home, and you follow; make yourself comfortable on the seat next to him. There are three chairs, as though carefully chosen for the pair of friends who used to live together and a guest.

Next to you, Jungkook huffs, leaning back as he watches his friend plop onto the chair in front of him, and asks, “How would you’ve done that?”

“Well, you guys gathered at the hospital because of me.”

Right. Good point.

If he just knew how that night played out. Actually, you think he just might, yet not quite aware of its severity.

“Not because of you,” Jungkook promises, “I just charmed her again.”

You laugh. So does Yoongi.

He isn’t irritated or taken aback by the younger’s boldness; in truth, he seems entertained. Arms crossed, eyes small and grin wide. He half mocks, “The young ones are charming for sure these days.”

“Spoken like a true Grandpa,” Jungkook remarks. You press your lips into a thin line, but with a faint smile. You only listen; you’re in the territory of two friends who spend their time roasting each other. You’re not on that level yet, so you observe. “But I had to.”

“You had to, huh?” you joke. Okay, observation broken. Your body tilts towards him. “You didn’t need any of your charm for… this. But still good to know.”

Because you would’ve been putty in his hands, no matter what — charm or not.

"Can confirm," Yoongi agrees, nodding towards his friend, "that he was also a proper mess the last couple weeks. Very out of character."

Your eyes roll to the side to catch a glimpse of him, but the moment you detect the rosy dust on Jungkook's cheeks, you avert your gaze immediately.

Admittedly, the guilt in the middle of your chest is undeniable. But there's comfort in knowing you were never the only half who was deeply, perpetually falling.

Yoongi scratches his temple, doesn't meet your eyes; possibly shy when it comes to conversations like these. But he sounds warm and gentle when he says, "I'm really glad you guys are back."

You’re similarly timid, feeling strange. As if someone’s congratulating you on a fresh marriage. Or maybe that’s just the emotion you want, need to feel.

You say, “Thanks.” And then, ever-so-terrible with compliments, add a little, “Let’s say it was you. Double thank you to the man of the hour.”

Yoongi pulls a grimace hitherto unseen; it doesn’t faze Jungkook, but the Joker-esque grin and wide-eyed nod have you bursting into laughter. His friends are pleasant, you think.

If there was a way to lure Jimin in and convince him of this group’s collective appeal, you wouldn’t hesitate. There’s only a limited time you want him to play the petty, protective friend.

“So, how have you been?” Jungkook eventually asks.

Yoongi rubs the corner of his eye, stretching his injured leg under the table, “Never better. The bank is surviving without me. Besides, I haven’t gotten around to making some music in a while.”

“Tae did tell me you were enjoying your days off.”

Jungkook reacts with a tiny chuckle, but your eyes widen. You let him finish his sentence, and then spit, “Wait, wait. You make music?”

“Oh, I mean… I’m not any good,” he explains, wiggling a hand, a little startled as if he forgot you didn’t know yet. “I just. Make a few beats every now and then and write my own bars and stuff.”

“Wait, rap?” You stare between the boys, to and fro, only a little offended that you didn’t know you had a brooding future musician in your midst. “Can I hea—”

“No.” The answer is immediate. You pout. “Before you ask, I am way too much of a coward.”

“He’s amazing,” Jungkook intrudes.

And you whine, “Unfair, Yoongi.”

He imitates your expression, leaning back, copying your stance, and answers in the same childlike tone, “Warm up to me first! I’ll show it to you one day.”

“One day I’m gon’st hear it,” you declare, overly dramatic with your chin up, “you have my taste in music, you know? I know I’ll like it.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I can try.”

Yoongi blows a raspberry. You’re not sure what you expected; maybe subtle hostility. But the sense of casual camaraderie is refreshing; lounging comfortably in his living room was a picture far from your mind until now, and you think he enjoys the unforeseen gathering, too.

Because after a moment of stillness, a faint smile touches his lips, his voice back to normal and deep as he remarks, “It’s nice that you guys came. I get bored here a lot.”

Right. You kept wondering.

You don’t dive into the matter immediately, instead drenching your voice in a teasing lilt, “Even though Jimin visits you?”

“Shut up.” Mock exasperation rolls his eyes as Jungkook appreciates your joke, one foot pressing against yours under the table. “No. It’s just been lonely since Tae moved out. It’s a two people thing with two bedrooms.”

He shrugs his shoulders, attention fully on you. Jungkook either doesn’t have much to say or doesn’t want to interrupt. Only listens.

“Living here alone feels like I’m wasting space and money,” Yoongi finishes.

Curiosity piqued, you probe, “What did Tae say when he left?”

“He offered to let me move in with him. But that’d be pointless.”

“Why so?”

“He’s awesome for offering, but I think he wanted his own place, you know? Why would I intrude then? But I did tell him I’d look for another place.”

“Have you been?” you ask. You still remember how happy Taehyung looked last time you met him alone.

How he spoke so highly of a life on his own, gladly interrupted by the occasional visits Eun granted him. Yoongi, you think, would probably benefit from acquiring his own place, too — one that doesn’t remind him that someone left him behind, inhabiting a vacant space thought for two.

“Every now and then,” Yoongi admits. “Will think about it some more once my leg’s healed.”

You nod in understanding, a thoughtful hum escaping your lips. Yoongi soon leans forward, naked arms on top of the table, and delves into a discussion about the rising costs of rent.

He outlines the challenges of finding the right place in the bustling city, and explains his worries about the empty space in a too-large apartment. And you listen intently.

But as minutes pass, you can’t help but notice the contemplative silence Jungkook has fallen into.

It’s always the same with him — thoughts you can’t read, questions you need to postpone.

Because you do glance over at him, observe the distracted furrow of his brow, the distant look in his eyes. You understand he’s once again lost in unknown thoughts, and you sense how jumbled his mind must be.

But you still decide to hold off for the moment, out of respect for the ongoing conversation. You don’t focus on addressing his apparent preoccupation until it keeps going until later, way after you’ve bid Yoongi goodbye.

“Why do you seem so reserved?” you ask in the car, his home your new destination.

It must be around quarter past ten; you should still be able to meet Tae within half an hour. Yet, despite the brooding rush, you can’t help but wanna drag out the ride, finish this conversation.

“Hm?” he voices.

Did he not hear you? Maybe.

You sigh, seeking an available parking spot. You’ve already turned into his street, way past the park, halting close to his entrance. The engine dies, sudden silence inside the vehicle.

“Okay,” you turn towards him, forearm against the wheel. “You’re a lot less enthusiastic now. What’s up?”

He looks distracted. Drags his teeth over his full, pink lower lip hard enough for you to repeat, “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Uh.” Cue big boba eyes flitting to you. “I was just. Thinking about something.”

“Wanna share?”

“Yeah. Yeah, uhm. I swear I’m not trying to be mysterious, just. Not sure how to phrase it.”

He’s easing himself into this whole thing. The entire opening up act and being fearless with his feelings. So you don’t push him, but encourage, “Try. If not now, then maybe later, though?”

“No, no. Now is fine.” He frees his eyes off the dark bangs when he shakes his head a little, preparing to voice his hidden thoughts. Then, he breathes, “Yeah, so…”

One more second.

And.

“What if you dropped your plans of moving into that apartment?”

Oh. What?

Does he mean what you think he means…

There are only two options, right? And you choose to go with the one that would embarrass you less if it turned out wrong.

“Should I… do you think I should stay with my family?” you ask, your voice cautious.

But when his hands shoot up, immediately denying your assumption with round eyes, you breathe out through your nose. Relieved when he clarifies, “No, not at all. I mean, it’s up to you, but that’s not what I meant.”

So then…

“So you’re saying—”

He interrupts, rushing before he can back down, “Move in with me. And Yoongi could take the apartment you were considering.”

Fuck. 

You didn’t expect your heart to jump up to your throat like that. It’s a day full of brief heart failures. You barely know how to react anymore.

You stare. Then stare a bit more. And eventually, you simply ask, “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean…” He gulps, averting your gaze all of a sudden before it lands back on yours. You chuckle quietly, unprompted, and it boosts his confidence. “You stayed at mine for days and it worked. It could… you know— keep working.”

The suggestion lingers like a fresh breeze, grazing your cheeks and twirling around you like a soothing force. He beams — though subtle, he seems to interpret the simultaneous rise of your eyebrows and your lips immediately.

Still, he inquires, “I don’t know… too soon?”

Technically yes. But then again, no. Because he’s right — you’ve already experienced a piece of heaven, tasted the bliss of domesticity with Jeon Jungkook.

“You really are serious about this, yeah?”

“Only if you want me to be,” he counters, less tense than before, but a hand rubbing in nervous circles over his knee, “if not, then I was absolutely joking.”

An awkward, little chortle fills the small space of the car; you shake your head, teeth out and smile bright. There’s sweetness in knowing that his affection is real. That the thought of shared future pains, joys and days — that it’s all actually become so unbelievably real.

The car is cool in the shadow, but you feel a strange heat coursing through your body. At the end of the street, you see the sunlight brighten the moment he laughs. Fitting.

The crinkly eye smile softens when he reaches for your hand, pulling it off the wheel and wrapping it in his. There’s an automatic reaction in your chest, a constant racing when he says, “I mean it, though.”

Brief pause. He looks down to your fingers.

“I think I got used to having you there. And then, at Yoongi’s I had this… I don’t know, overwhelming urge to tell you. That,” his teeth worry his lip, releasing it softly, “I want you next to me for as long as possible.”

You understand.

He means every minute that society and norms don’t force you out of the house. At nights and in the mornings, on off days and holidays. To fall asleep next to his presence, to wake up on the same mattress, too.

And the longing is undeniable; you know that it is. But you’re already swamped with decisions as it is — could you call off the apartment right here, right now? Rethink all you discussed with the landlord, Taehyung or yourself?

Life decisions are harder than that, and despite all the wants infiltrating your body, you can’t dive into this without a couple more following thoughts.

You keep gazing into his smouldering eyes, more intense when he looks up. Let their effect send a thrill down your spin, a surge of yearning through your veins. 

And then, you acknowledge the need for prudence. You savour the moment, let the anticipation built, and flash a sultry smile to ensure that, yes, if not now, then one damn day, I’ll be yours entirely.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything to work more than this,” you admit, “but I need to—”

You halt. Words come hard to you these days; and the two of you are sensitive. It’s not easy to reunite after weeks of overthinking and distance; and you don’t want to provide more reasons to overthink.

But you forget that as sensitive as Jungkook is, he’s just as understanding and gentle, too.

Because he says, “You need to think. And I know you can’t just pack your things and move over, I just— I wanted it out there.”

“I know. I know.”

“And I,” he continues, “I actually thought you were gonna say no right away since you’re getting out of your childhood home just now, so naturally, you would wanna be alone for a while and—”

You lean forward, pulling your hands out of his grip. His eyes shoot down, baffled and confused, but you don’t give him a second to think or speak. In a moment’s notice, his cheeks are squished between your palms, his bunny face now akin to a duck.

“I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been alone all my life,” you tell him; Jungkook eyebrows furrow in empathy and worry, but you smile, “I don’t wanna be anymore.”

His expression and voice are dorky when he speaks, first words incomprehensible. You let go, watching the red splotches on his cheek, and he repeats, “Is that a yes?”

“It’s… I don’t know. A to be continued.”

“I’ll live with that.”

You don’t know if it’s the electrifying prospect of a life together or the confidence he follows his statement up with, but the insanity burns wild in your head. Untamed and dizzying.

“And I’ll wait for however long.”

“I didn’t even ask, I’m sorry… but are you starting work later today?”

You stand in the middle of Taehyung’s living room, a hand over your eyes to protect them from the bright sunlight. He’s busy piling the saucers and the cups, and you wait as he drags a vocal in thought.

“No, no. I’m off today.” He stands, and you automatically walk the short distance to the kitchen, lingering at the door frame. “Need the afternoon for an appointment at the doc. So yeah.”

“Oh. Everything okay?”

He doesn’t speak yet, dishes in the wash basin too loud. They clink and rattle; the moment you’ll move to an apartment by yourself, you’ll have to wash them yourself, too.

Maybe you can make your place as aesthetically pleasing and beige as Taehyung did. You don’t know — you couldn’t imagine much today nor discuss further details about the contract and rent and general house rules.

The landlord bailed on you last second. And Taehyung sacrificed over an hour that he could’ve spent keeping Eun company between her morning lessons.

You apologised the second you entered his apartment instead, thankful for the invitation to tea, yet harbouring guilt for wasting his time. But Taehyung proved incredibly kind, waving off your concerns immediately.

He asked, playfully offended, “So you’re saying a tea party with me is a waste of time?” And then he laughed, immediately shaking his head, “Nah. It’s fine. Am glad someone finally prefers tea over coffee, too.”

So now you’re here.

“Yeah, just a check up,” Taehyung answers, “vamps drew my blood and will tell me today if it’s good or not.”

“Interesting way to refer to doctors,” you admit, backing away when he leads you to the exit. You need to be at work in forty minutes tops. “Good then.”

He hands you your blazer, silent for a moment before he says, “Talking about feeling unwell.” You look up, arm halfway through the blazer’s sleeve. “What were you doing getting shitfaced like that?”

“Uhm…”

Word travels fast. Your cheeks heat up, fingers curling into fists. You smack your lips, letting out a tiny laugh, and ask, “Eun told you, huh?”

“Mhm. Scolded her for taking you to the bar and leaving you alone.”

You sigh.

You should’ve guessed that she’d tattle. And of course you might appear like the helpless, heartbroken girl, seeking comfort in alcohol, dark clubs and blue neon lights. It’s a little embarrassing, actually.

“Kook was there, though,” you defend.

“I know. I called when he was still at your place.”

Huh? What else did he do when you were asleep? Painted a Louvre-ripe masterpiece, probably.

Taehyung decodes the dozen questions in your stare, tumbling until his back leans against the wall. He explains, “We just talked for a sec. He sounded worried, so I didn’t prod too much. Just don’t do these things anymore, okay?”

Huh…

You can imagine it well. Partly because you remember the way he looked at you that night: distressed beyond belief, giving you soft orders, insisting on help everywhere — the car, the shower, the bed.

But also because you know him.

And you don’t think you needed to see him in those very moments to know he must’ve brushed through his silky hair. Must’ve looked through your room, gaze stopping over your sleeping figure.

Voice strained on the phone, yawning, shaking his head because he must have been a little mad at you, but comforted that you were resting, too.

You remember the tone of his voice, soft as a piano tune but saddened nonetheless.

”What did you drink? You’re… in such a bad state.”

You shake the words off. God, he was there for you more than you’ll ever know.

You say, “That’s nice, though, Tae… I didn’t think you’d ever get so worried about me.”

“Hey. You’re still my friend,” he promises.

He’s possibly been the only person throughout this entire ordeal to not be pissed at you or annoyed by you. You never doubted that he still liked you.

“I might not know you inside out like Eun or Jungkook do, but you’re part of this group. So naturally, you’re important, too.”

You push your hands into the pockets of the blazer, gripping the car keys inside. Bashfully, you smile. His sincerity pumps warmth through you; it’s crazy how good belonging somewhere, to someone, can actually feel.

It’s refreshing. New. 

“Wow,” you murmur, shuffling your feet, “thank you.”

“You’re glowing, you know. That’s nice.”

“Am I?”

He nods. “I can’t wait to see him glow either. A couple weeks were a couple too long.”

Those couple weeks felt like someone ripped out the hands of time, keeping them from moving. Your brain aged faster in that time, deep in a bottomless abyss. You don’t want to experience it again.

And you don’t want to imagine Jungkook in the same pit again. Looking for you, but bumping against walls, painted with his past that made him stumble back instead of pulling him forwards.

Your eyes trail down the hallway, looking at the small paintings and decorations on the wall. You take in the furniture, inhale the pleasant colours. Imagine his living room in its entirety, the sunlight seeping through the windows. Curtains pushed aside.

Your apartment could be like this, too.

But.

“Tae,” you begin. You wrap your fingers around your rattling car key; lick your lips. “Do you think I’d like it here?”

“Hmmm,” he voices, gazing down as if he could look past the parquet floor and to where your potential apartment stands nearly empty. “Yeah. I mean, I like to think so, because I’m very happy here.”

He stops abruptly, the tone of the last syllable not matching a sentence’s end. You wait as he smiles a little, creating a thought, “But you could be happy somewhere else, too. Happier even.”

His words hang in the air, a sense of both possibility and uncertainty tangible. You were wanting to venture into this new chapter of your life with hope, but also with trepidation.

Suburban areas are nice, but you opted for the heart of the city — the vibrant tapestry of dreams and opportunities. You didn’t expect the journey to be fraught with sudden doubts.

The best thing, however, is that doubts and dilemmas never seemed this… tempting.

You tell him, “There’s always a place that makes people happier, for everyone.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice tinged with wisdom. “Only, some people already know of it, and some keep searching for it.”

“And I am—”

You pause, anticipating for him to finish the sentence; he responds, “You gotta know.” There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, support and acknowledgment hiding right behind — matching his words, “I’d be bummed if you didn’t become my neighbour, but. Also just happy you guys are happy.”

Too kind for this world.

In your endearment, you laugh, suddenly stepping forward for a brief, thankful hug. A silent gesture of gratitude for his friendship, no matter how shallow or new.

The people you surround yourself with offer endless reassurance, and you’re lacking the words to express your appreciation.

“Thank you, Tae. Eun’s right when she praises your constant respect for other people, you know?”

Taehyung, maybe a little perplexed, brings a hand to your back, patting gently as he states, “No worries. The worst is over.”

You hope so. God, you genuinely hope so.

You pull back, tucking your hair behind your ear and bid him goodbye with one last nod. Taehyung closes the door behind you with a humorous thumbs up, and you grin before it’s silent in the hallway again.

There’s a tiny window outside, overlooking the street down there and the cars flitting by. The area isn’t as peaceful as Jungkook’s — more lively and noisy. You can see the city’s river if you look far enough.

And as you step closer to the glass, you envision your own apartment again. You imagine the soft glow of the lamp before you go to sleep. The comfortable couch you want to plant in the back of the living room, curling up with work or your laptop or a cup of hot chocolate.

You picture the view of the city as you step to your open window, glancing out as the steam of your beverage swirls in the evening air. Contemplating the world outside.

But then you start rethinking Jungkook’s words, too. The idea of belonging and happiness, of domesticity and what could be.

And at last, you visualise what it’d be like if you didn’t see any of this — the lively street, the river in the distance. Wonder how you’d feel if the horizon looked different.

If you stared out and saw a different canvas instead.

The changes in your life are drastic in some way, but Jungkook always stays the same.

Your house lies quiet most of the time; as days pass, you frequent your room, then drop by in the living room, greeting the staff, grabbing dinner and retracting back to your beloved bed.

Jungkook’s apartment, baby-sized compared to your place, allows a much livelier atmosphere. Maybe because you don’t need to yell for him to hear you from another room. Or maybe because it’s just the two of you.

Perhaps even because you find solace in the couch, in the smaller smart TV in front of it, the glass table, the carpet, the homely furniture in general. The scent reminds you of wood, but you connect it with him, too.

It’s different from the room you grew up in. Different from the luxurious chimney and marble you’ve seen all your life.  And you must admit that you enjoy it a lot more, too.

One of the few reasons why your mood changes from exhausted to merry the moment you knock at his door on Thursday. He was expecting you, because when he opens, he beckons you inside immediately, pulling you in and planting a generous kiss on your cheek.

A smooching sound accompanies it, his foot closing the door as he suggests, “Dinner first or TV?”

“Shoes.” You laugh. You slip out of your thin jacket before tackling your snickers quickly, your clothes suddenly itchy and uncomfortable. “Shoes first, and then shower? Can I?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s not the first time that you’d be doing it. But there’s still something new and pure about this new chapter of your life; one that comes with polite questions and reinventing reality, apparently.

Redrafting life as you knew it and striving towards something better.

“I knew it, actually,” he says, forefinger wiggling, “I put a fresh towel on the washing machine. Also had a handful of your shirts here, so there’s one of those on the towel, too. And my joggers… Sorry, you left none of those, uhm—”

He’s started walking ahead, scratching behind his ear, but when he notices you not following, he looks over his shoulder. Blinks at you, staring into his living room and back, innocent voice unsure, “Come?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just— you didn’t have t—”

“I know,” he interrupts, breathing a sigh in faux frustration, “I know I never have to. But I figured you’d wanna shower.”

“…Thank you, Kook.”

You wish you could say more; express your gratitude the way you want to. At least your body is jubilating, craving the hot steam of the shower. Starving further for some peace when you step into the bathroom and detect the neatly placed clothing.

Jungkook halts at the door, gripping its frame, a little shy as if you didn’t breathe each other in for the last couple of weeks and months. He’s looking at you, waiting for something, and when you raise an eyebrow in curiosity, he snaps out of whatever daydream he was in.

“Oh. Right,” he mumbles, cheeks flushed, “sorry. I’ll leave. Can heat up the food. Or, or do you wanna order in?”

“Anything’s fine.” He nods. Opts to walk away, big hand flattening his hair at the back. It takes a moment for your heart to riot as you watch him leave, immediately babbling, “Actually. I was—”

Returning within a moment, he looks alarmed. Less so when you point a thumb to the shower and suggest, “Do you wanna join?”

“You in the shower?”

No, doofus. Join to watch the washing machine unsoil your sweaty clothes.

You clear your throat. “Yeah?”

“I uhm… Is that okay?”

Goddamn. Redrafting life as you knew it, you said.

You just didn’t expect the two of you to still tip-toe around each other. Seems you still have a lot of adjusting to do.

You try to break the ice.

“Acting like I’ve never seen you naked.”

“No, I know,” he responds, “I was just thinking that you…”

You can’t quite decrypt what he’s trying to say, but you do perceive the flash of concern in his eyes. It’s a tiny glimpse, barely there; but you see it. And you think about it.

Try to understand, let moments pass — until you’ve grasped his thinking.

The night he helped you clean up was the last time you stood under a showerhead together; maybe he thinks you’re still connecting it to the night’s trauma or borderline dangerous intoxication. And perhaps you’re wrong.

But you still take a breath, and then segue, “Already took a shower, didn’t you?”

You know he did. He’s addicted to cleanliness, sensitive to scents; he hoards diffusers, skin care products and new underwear like a treasure. And showering is always the first thing he goes for, a beeline to the bathroom after work out sessions and intense summer days.

You follow up with, “It’s okay, if you did. I’ll just go alone and hurry to dinner, then?”

“No, no… No, it’s fine.” He starts his sentence fast, but slows down halfway through, awkwardly. “Of course I can join. What’s some extra refreshment, right?”

“That’s the reason, huh?” you mock, laughing when he shrugs his shoulder. “Keep acting like you’re not the biggest simp around.”

Your confidence boosts his own, too. The signature smile is soft, lips curved gorgeously, but the subtone of his words is teasing, and even a little cocky.

“Of course. I know, I know.”

“Come then.”

You offer a stretched hand, curling your fingers in and outwards, and he places his warm palm into it like a key to a lock. Albeit tense and nervous, your body feels good next to his. The telltale awkward signs of a new relationship don’t deter you from indulging in its sweetness.

So you’re not surprised at how quickly you undress, throwing each other’s clothes at the back of the washing machine and planting kisses whenever one of you bares their shoulder. Eyeing each other from bottom to top.

You think you ogle for a moment too long, though — and how could you not with the freaking silver chain dangling from his neck?

An exciting evening lies ahead, you can already tell.

It’s fresher now outside, and all of Jungkook’s windows are open. Despite the cosiness of the bathroom, you rush under the hot shower stream.

Only, it’s not as boiling as you’d like it to be. Jungkook starts and finishes his showers ice cold, so you screech when you meet water from the Antarctic. You jump on your spot, arms around your torso.

And when you allow yourself one single glance at him amidst the breathlessness, you notice that the asshole is doing it on purpose. Same old. Rouses core memories.

Jungkook wipes over your hair and your face, drenching them thoroughly. You only realise he’s smudged your mascara when he starts rubbing underneath your eyes gently, managing to get some of it off.

“Fuck,” you curse, “I forgot about that. Should I take it off first?”

The intention is to slip out, use one of his cleansing skin products and get the mess out of your face before stepping back to him. But you don’t make it far anyway; he yanks you back before your foot can even touch the mat.

And then, the moment passes in a blur.

Tense body back against his, he tugs you close. Holds both your wrists in front of your breasts, leaning in without a warning, and then — connects his dripping lips with yours.

If there was any space to gasp, you would. Instead, your fingers instantly dig into your hand, sharp nails scarring the skin. You move your fists, trying to touch him, but he holds you in place firmly.

That is, until his digits relax, trailing up your shoulder to your neck, jaw and then to your cheeks. Face in your grip, you let him control the pace. You find an anchor in his bicep, holding on; kissing isn’t enough.

You wish he could eat you up. Wish the tongue finally touching yours, swirling around it, was everywhere on your skin at once.

You feel a slight twitch underneath, right against your body; ready to devour, hopefully soon to explode. But Jungkook gasps for air when his lungs give out, allowing a break, backing away with your face still between his hands.

And then, he utters something surprising — something you didn’t expect in the heat of the moment at all.

“I was meaning to tell you something.”

“…Oh?”

“I’m uh. I’ve been meaning to tell you for days. I just never quite got around to it and we were so busy and tired all the time and—”

“What is it?” you break in, heart pounding at an unnatural speed. “I’m here now, so…?”

For a second, you expect this to take a whole different turn.

The database in your brain empties the moment you scour it for an answer, preparing yourself for molten knees and dissolving hearts. Or maybe, it’s already clarifying to liquid, jumping out of your chest and flowing down the drain along with the water.

But he doesn’t say what you anticipate. Though, what he does admit has your nerves glowing neon white anyway.

“So— the first night of my showcase. On my birthday?” he starts. You feel the muscles of your face change, and he sees it, immediately assuring, “No, no. Don’t worry. I was just gonna say that a guy came to me by the end of it? And—” 

He lets all of it sound like an unsure question. But you think you know where it’s going — you hold your breath under the already suffocating water.

“And?” you prod.

“And turned out Namjoon invited him, and he’s kiiiinda a big shot in the art business? Like, he’s a gallery collector, he said. He’d invest in my art and acquire it and have it showcased in bigger museums for more recogni— I know!”

Your mouth and eyes opened halfway through his quick explanation, fingers back in fists, pressing against his solid chest and then moving up to hook in his silver chain. You’re restless in the congested space, suppressing the high pitched sounds.

He puts his hands on your hips, snickering in joy as he says, “Be careful before you slip.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Thankfully I’m not, angel,” he shakes his head, bangs sticking to his forehead, “not this time, at least.”

You raise a hand to his pec, tapping against it, “Wait. So just so I understood correctly — they’re gonna put up your stuff there for an even bigger audience to see, yeah?”

“I mean, the gallery is definitely far bigger than the exhibition I participated in.”

“Oh my god, Jungkook, the exhibition already had a shit ton of visitors!”

He nods, proving a point.

You feel an electric current in your blood. Pride, that’s what it’s called, too. You sling your arms around his neck recklessly, nearly falling, but you can’t be bothered as you exclaim, “This is so— I don’t even know how to react, Kook!”

And who could convince a big-shot art connoisseur so quickly after graduation anyway? Jungkook’s god given talents are never praised for nothing — you knew it. Fucking knew it.

Won’t make it anywhere, your ass.

“That’s so fucking awesome.” You stare, out of breath all of a sudden. God, if there was a way to express your delight. “When is it happening? Are you selling the one you showcased?”

“I don’t know yet. And no. That’s too… personal to me.” You blink, nodding. Still overwhelmed with how his pieces made you feel — of course they’d hit even harder for the artist himself. “He wants something in a similar style, though. I’ll make something new for him.”

“What’s it gonna be?”

It’s a simple question. You swear it’s nothing too deep.

But Jungkook’s gaze changes. An amused, delighted expression replaces a neutral one, head tilting to the side just a little. His lips, already slightly swollen from the kiss, move up, eyes kind and sugary.

If you only knew how your small details affect him, too. How you looking at him like this, expectant eyes split wide, innocent and gentle, shoots an arrow to his heart.

You just don’t know.

He brushes the hair sticking to your cheek back and tells you, “You’ll see. I’ve been working on it these days, but. Will show it to you when it’s done.”

You can’t even be mad. If it was up to you, you’d probably wait for the big day, too — can’t spoil the surprise, need to cry tears of pride and joy in public.

So all you say, deep from the heart, is, “You’re the fucking coolest person I know.”

“Nah—”

“The coolest.”

“Funny,” he retorts, as bad at compliments as you; throws them back like a boomerang, “thought the same when I met you at the party last year.”

“…Gross.” That’s what you say. But you still shake your head; overwhelmed, smile plastered to your face and cheeks hurting. “God, Kook.”

And that’s all.

You keep holding his stare, finally too tired of the distance to endure any longer — and then lean in. You stop a couple inches away, watch his head angle more, mouth steering towards yours. The smile is mutual, fingers seeking a spot to settle on on each other’s bodies.

Your heart monitor would be wilding right now — the effect of your lips meeting clear as day behind your ribs. And this time, you don’t stop.

The push against his chest is immediate, his feet slowly tumbling backwards. His tongue burns hot against yours, your lower lip fitting perfectly in the gap between his lips. There’s a sharp hiss when his back finally touches the tiles, mouth open but not leaving yours.

Teeth soon clash, and you opt for more of his taste, well aware that you just cannot kiss more than you already are. His hands move up and down, never settling, both your lips harsh and impatient. Your tongues keep moving in patterns, thirst never quenched.

You break the kiss solely for oxygen purposes, but he uses the moment to let his palm wander from your face to your hair, grabbing a patch. One hand pushes against the small of your back, though soon dropping to your ass, fingers between your ass cheeks, teasing the clenching hole.

Fuck.

The moan isn’t intended, but very welcome — you love the sound of it as much as he does, followed by his own. An automatic reaction. His hips indulge in the tiniest movements, length jerking against your body; no more than an inch of his fingertip pushing into your ass.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, eyebrows furrowing, mewling against the corner of his lips. “More, now, please.”

It’s an attempt. Of course he won’t act that fast — you know him well enough. He’s been a soft gentleman often enough; but after holding back the past few days, missing it for weeks, you know it won't be easy on him either.

One of you will be on the brink of tears soon; until now, it’s usually been you.

You take a deep breath, agitated when he laughs. He retracts his hand, smoothing back his chaotic mane before leaning in for another peck. And that’s all it remains — interrupted immediately, saliva mixing with the shower water.

“I’m so fucking crazy for you,” he confesses; the shiver doesn’t hesitate crawling down your spine — neither does Jungkook, peppering your neck with kisses.

His actions are smooth — you let him do anything. Like, explore every little spot of your skin. From the softness of your face, down to the flesh of your ass, echoing hard when a flat hand slaps it out of nowhere.

You propel forwards, barely aware of your surroundings. The shower raining onto you is the only indicator of where you still are.

So when he turns you carefully, 180 until your back touches the tiles, you don’t realise his intentions for a moment. Only when he changes his approach, digging your shoulders hard into the wall, knocking you out of breath.

“Are you trying to—” you ask, but he interjects right away.

“Don’t question it this time, okay?” His face inches close again, teeth suddenly pulling and nibbling at your lip. “Just let us do. Lemme do, yeah?”

His chest presses against your tits before he backs away and palms your mounds, squeezing nearly painfully.

For only a heartbeat, though — he doesn’t stall further. Because another second passes before you’re turned in his grip, chest not touching his anymore, but the wall now. From behind you, he grasps your hips, dragging you back just a couple inches; enough to sneak his hand through.

“But whenever things get too much, you…”

You nod. Promise, “Will tell you. I will.”

“Good.” His cock pokes between your ass, and he spreads its cheeks. Lets the hardness rest between them, sliding up and down. “Gonna make you feel so good, though. Wanna make you feel so fucking good.”

Wow… wow, f—

Not that you were ever interested in it before, but…

Part of you wants him to shove it in anywhere. Wherever the fuck he wants. You’d endure all hour-long foreplay and pleas and tears for him.

And perhaps he’s thinking the same. Perhaps you even spoke it out loud — you wouldn’t be surprised if you did. But you choke on your spit when he says, “Missing the sex toys. Like… What do you think of new ones, hm? Someday, maybe. Like— like an anal pl—”

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll do fucking anything for you.”

Break in conversation. Then, “Holy shit.” He chuckles. Fuck — his voice is deeper now, isn’t it? “You’re being whiny. I thought you’re a badass business woman, but you’re so whiny.”

“Because— I can breathe when I work.”

“Ohh. And now,” he whispers, close to your ear, hand moving. Up and further up, stopping around your throat, as if he’s testing your statement. As if he could tell him anything about the state of your lungs. “Now we’re not as focused, right?”

“No thinking when I suck your dick.”

“Dammit. Really don’t wanna wait to fuck you numb.”

You’re shamelessly jittery, patience out the window. “Don’t then. Get to it now.”

“Nope. I know you’re not ready yet. And I’m not either… so—”

He steps closer, forcing your body further forward until your cheek is squished against the wall. His fingers leave your throat to find another target; something far more south, a lot more dangerous.

One small circle drawn around your clit, you gasp, hearing him ask, “You think you can come with just my fingers?”

“I don’t know. I honestly think I need—”

He chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, too. You’re hilarious sometimes.

“You think you’re so smart. But we can still try, though.” He says it casually, as if the two of you don’t exactly know that he’s perfectly capable of pulling through. But his voice still softens when you don’t answer, “Hey. You wanna try, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Anything,” you convince him, “anything, Kook.”

“Good girl. The best, always.”

His touch vanishes. You let out a mildly confused sound, observing with an unfocused vision how he opens the shower door a little. He reaches for the towel on the washing machine, drying his fingers, other hand moving the shower head until it’s mostly wetting his own back.

It’s a tiny detail, really. You only told him once how action around the clit might become uncomfortable with hands priorly washed or wet, and it seems he remembered.

Your eyes shut when he returns to your bundle of nerves, massaging gently, skilled. It starts slow at first; you feel the hot wetness build in and around your entrance, the line between the shower water and your arousal fading.

Jungkook’s movements, calculated and systematic, only spur your body on. He’s always known what he’s doing; has analysed and explored what you want. How you want it.

It’s true heaven to you: the way he kisses your cheek. The way he draws moans out of you, the motions around your swollen bud rhythmic. Your back and limbs tingle; you don’t know what to do with yourself.

And when you can’t stand still anymore, Jungkook orders, “Stop that. You’ll break my jaw.”

“Sorry.”

Your apology is timid, tiny; he laughs. “You cutie… you’re adorable even in moments like these.”

You throw your head against his shoulder as if to oppose him, opening your eyes, looking straight into his eyes. Your eyebrows are kissing, tension between them, mouth agape.

And he adds, “Or maybe not.”

He lifts you up a bit, dragging your body along the wall — you didn’t even notice that you slid down this much, angled, ass darting out like this. But you also don’t mind the arm that rounds your torso, just underneath your tits, keeping you steady when he takes it up a notch and—

“Oh my god,” you squeak when he pushes two fingers in. “Yes, yes, please—”

The incoherent, random requests are his favourite. Most of the time, he knows better than you what you’re pleading for. Which is why he doesn’t stop this time; probably more in the mood to please you than tease you.

From this position, he can’t reach knuckles deep, but just enough to brush the walnutty spot inside. And to your surprise, the orgasm builds up fast; the first quiver takes over your knees, but you understand that this is nothing compared to what’s to come.

You press your hands to the wall, holding onto remnants of your sanity when he kisses your neck, and along your damp shoulders. His mouth is hot against your pulse, wet hair tickling under your jaw. He bites lightly; soothes the fleeting sting with his tongue. Vampiristic.

Like a sensual massage, well thought out, pornographic.

And then he picks up on pace. Whispers, “That’s right— we got this—”

He starts pumping into you; relishes your incomprehensible curses. The thumb over your clit and the impatience of his fingers inside are a dichotomy, and you don’t know what to focus on. Which is why you stop thinking altogether.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath, quiet whistling sounds included, and then groans into your ear when you do. He keeps his motions up diligently, fingers a bit deeper with each time your ass moves back an inch.

As an aid, he shifts his arm, too, pushing forward, palm pressing against your clit now.

And when you come, you melt. Nearly collapsing, you keep moving, on edge, every spot of your body in tremor. You can barely breathe; you’ve been nestled in the heat of the shower for way too long.

He notices your tremble in an instant, encourages, “Got it. Got you. Keep going, baby, c’mon.”

The peak is blissful; you don’t want to ever fall off the edge again. Want to remain in this starry, gorgeous ache. Your eyes could stay in the back of your head; the world may keep fading. And you don’t need to know where you are.

All you know is that your voice sounds odd, high when you pant, “Don’t go away yet.”

“I’m right here. Right here, got you,” he repeats, holding you upright.

Jungkook knows — knows how to get you from lowest lows to your highest highs. Today was as pleasant as a day at work can be; but if he’s ready to do all this to you on any other, worse day, too, you might never encounter grief again.

He scatters kisses all over your jaw when you’re done — busies himself as you catch your breath, swallowing, eyes closed. Once you’ve caught yourself enough to utter fragments of sentences at least, you tell him, “Something not human about you, Jeon.”

“Oh. Are we back to surnames now?” He cackles, soothing motions along your arms. “Are we gonna shake hands, too, once we’re done? Bow and say thank you?”

You shake your head, though the stupid smile doesn’t wait to spread on your face.

“You’re dumb,” you say.

“You make me dumb.”

He drops his touch, brushing your pussy again — maybe as a test. But you’re sensitive and vulnerable, closing your legs and opening your mouth in response. He’s sly; uses the moment to push two fingers in right away, pressing your tongue down.

And you, as challenge-accepting as ever, start sucking, tasting some of yourself. You wrap your hand around his, moving your head, chest still heaving from the exhaustion. Your eyes close slowly enough for him to see them roll back, a reaction to the images your brain creates.

Like, the thought of the member currently poking you replacing those digits. The prospect of emptying him entirely.

“Fuuuuck— wish my brain could take a picture of this and save it forever,” he says, voice strained.

You open your mouth, licking a strip along his finger, past the tattoo. “What’d you do with it?”

“Would… would bring it to the forefront of my mind,” Jungkook begins, reclaiming his hand and dragging it down to your waist, “and use it whenever you’re away.”

“Hmmm… and then?”

“Would just…”

He doesn’t continue. Only shakes his head, lifting his shoulders, stance desperate and wanting; maybe he’s even a little out of his mind.

You egg him on, “Show me if you can’t say it.”

It’s a surprise that he obliges, but then again, it’s not. You always forget just how weak he is — that his heart sits right there in your palms, his body a magnet to yours.

So you’re endlessly pleased when your eyes flit down to a hand around his dick. Stroking slowly, its head hard against your pelvis. And you manage to watch a tiny second longer until the floor beckons you towards it, down to your knees.

It’s uncomfortable immediately; slick and odd. But you’re distracted by your dry tongue, thirsting, ridiculously hypnotised by the cock dangling in front of you. And then his thighs… muscular and thick. You reach out to them, holding them, steering forwards.

Despite his delicate frailty, you don’t fare any better. Ready to bruise your knees like an obedient doll, eyes wide when you look up at him. You grip him softly, urging him to remove his hand, stroking in his stead.

You pass all pleasantries and hesitations, and dive in immediately — leading your mouth to the tip before wrapping your lips around it delicately. Determined, you let only a second pass, eager as you start moving right away.

Bobbing your head, you take him in as much as your gag reflex allows. He’s too big — it’s impossible to ever swallow him fully. But no matter how greedy you are, that’s it.

You don’t give into it all the way just yet.

Instead, you back away after another lick. Straighten your body, drawing in and repositioning until you can push your tits together around the stiffness.

His groan tumbles out of him broken, choked, a hand against the wall. His abs are rippling, bicep bulged, nipples tiny and perked. Dark brown. Eyes hazy.

You want to do so many fucking things to him — want to mount him. Pull his head back by his long strands. Want, need to kiss him, rub yourself on him, back and forth along his cock until his moans become uncontrolled. Sticky white cum sprayed over his tummy.

Your nails in your skin, yearning for more — that’s one of your billion thoughts.

Instead, you summarise your wants, whispering a single, simple, fucked out, “I…” You gulp down the knot. Shiver at your position, craving the hot water a little now. Then command, “Fuck my mouth.”

His eyes threaten to fall out of his head; like they always do. He knows it’s a constant reaction, too, it seems, because, “God. I’ll never get used to you saying this.”

“You better, though.”

“Right. Right…”

He caresses your face, pushes your hair back. Perhaps he’s had enough of the pace; because he soon reaches for your arms, compliant deer kicked out of his head as he forces your wrists up and crosses them against the wall.

One hand is all he needs to hold them in their place. One hand gripping them hard, disabling any movement of your arms.

You let out a strange, obscene sound, finding utter liking in this gesture.

But despite your pleasure, he still eases you into the process, the heart tattoo grazing your cheek. A touch so soft that you think he’s praising you, wordlessly and gently. Making sure you’re absolutely okay with whatever he does to you.

And you confirm it with another blink, stretching out your tongue, ready. Holding his gaze. Mesmerised and frustrated, he says, “You’ll kill me with the way you look at me.”

Jungkook fuels your confidence with vigour each time, eloquent through scorching heat, too. Because you don’t think you’ve ever smiled this self-assured before you knew him; or been certain about your power over others.

You used to be far more insecure than that, feigning ignorance and carelessness, but reevaluating your decisions every step of the way. Months ago, you could’ve never predicted such a shift in conviction towards yourself.

So it’s new to you, but invigorating at the same time, the grin you sport, the words you utter, “Killing you isn’t my intention,” when he doesn’t, you move your head towards the leaking head of his cock, awaiting destruction, “wanna make you feel more alive than ever.”

The breath tumbling out of his mouth is ragged, pinky finger twitching a tiny bit when you wrap your lips around the tip and then let it go with a plop again; like it’s a lollipop to you.

Your knees move closer to his feet, and he stretches his one hand to your shoulder, making sure you don’t get hurt on the slippery ground. But you’re far too distracted to appreciate the gesture just yet, even though you feel the faint tickling along your limbs.

“I got it,” Jungkook then says, back in charge, hands back on the protruding, thick veins.

He moves his hips forward, testing. You roll out your tongue once more, closing your eyes. Try to make more room in your mouth, despite knowing it’s a thing of impossibility. And to your chagrin, it takes only a few more seconds for you to be full already.

Taking in as much as your throat allows, you gag when you reach your limit, letting out a tiny cough, salivating. You still can’t move your arms; his fingers are like chains around your wrists.

“That enough?” he asks. “I’ll stop here, okay?”

You nod. Wait. When he doesn’t move, you start pulling back, and then push forward again immediately. Your tongue is drenched in absolute filth; the spit trails down your chin, and you wish it was his.

But that’s not the point of it all — you’re not supposed to comfortably bop your head back and forth, are you? Despite the daily softness between the two of you, you want to be used. Want all his greed.

And he knows. Asks, “What do you need?”

Of course you can’t speak. He’s aware of that; stares down at you as you breathe heavily around him, mouth stuffed to the brim. Cheeks aching from the circumference.

You moan around him, parting your lips, moving your tongue from under his dick to swirl it around it a little. You move back, tasting the liquid minimally dripping out of his slit. Fuck, you want all of it, in thick, sickening ropes, in loads and buckets.

“Won’t even back away to speak,” he teases, words contradictory, because he won’t allow you to take a break either. Shoves himself inside again; you’re embarrassed that you only manage half of his length. “The dedication is hotter than it should be—”

Full, coherent sentences. How?

But even his string of thought breaks when he starts in earnest. Filling up your mouth once more, as much as he can and then a bit more for good measure. You adjust to his movements, suck down immediately.

You don’t care about the loss of voice later; you want to eat him up entirely.

His strokes grow harder by the second, rock hard inside you. You move your head until the head pokes against the inside of your cheek, and the tight wetness affects him, his knees buckling by one single inch.

“Easy…” he whispers, shaking his head, water drops landing on your face. “Fuck. Wanna have you hanging off the bed one day. Wanna see my cock ram your throat…”

Easy, he said. He’s definitely not being easy on you, though. Not with these admissions. Not with his motions.

The thrusts aren’t just hard, but deliberate and controlled, too. Your head keeps pushing back, lightly touching the wall. You’re far over sucking his dick, way too obedient and submissive to define it like that.

No, you’re being fucked. Gagging and choking around him, sucking in the spit whenever only his tip remains inside, sounds lewd and specific. Coming from the back of your throat, wet, hot and bothered.

God, you wish you were strong enough to take him all the way down to the base, licking at his balls, feeling his twitching dick thumping at the very far back. But you guess this is more than enough for him, too.

Because he holds your wrists harder, a rope around them, digging into your skin. The free hand wipes your hair away again, your body sweat-soaked while the shower water still trickles down his back.

He holds you there; then reaches for your nipple; pinches it hard over your heavily heaving chest, pleased when you open your eyes and look up at him. Waterline damp — the dangling chain might just be one of the reasons for that.

“Bit more,” he mumbles, and you think he’ll surrender right there, inside your mouth.

Which is why you sit up straighter, more determined, licking at the underside of his cock when he drags it out a little. His balls hang in your face and you reach for them, tongueing, hungry, not wanting him to move away now.

He doesn’t. Not yet. Relief courses through you, swallowing around his thickness again. Rolling your eyes back, hearing subtle “Doing well, so well, angel”s, ignoring the pain in your arms as he holds them upright.

You hollow your cheeks when he buries himself in deep, struggling when he stops right there. He doesn’t move; your eyes well up harder. All air enters and escapes through your nose, and you’re shaking, holding his stare as he keeps his cock in place, absolutely still.

That is, until you can barely breathe anymore, nails digging into your palms, arms trying to escape. He doesn’t say a word yet, only lets your hands drop. Your shoulders crack a bit, and you shake your arms, filling up your lungs, your palms next to his feet.

His cock is covered in your spit when you look again; your gaping mouth and chin similarly drenched.

And only when your head stops spinning, does he hold his hands towards you, urging you to take them as he says, “Sorry, baby. You did so well, I…”

You grip his fingers feebly, getting up on weak knees. Instead of holding onto your hands, he soon wraps an arm around your body, pulling you up before he asks, “Less next time?”

“No,” the word comes out as a squeak, throat already affected, “I’ll always tap if I feel it’s too much. I promi— promise.”

“Good,” he praises, a kiss to your damp forehead. He turns the water off. “That’s all I want, baby. Look at me.”

You’re already exhausted, staring down, fatigue fuelled by the hot water. Your eyes flutter open as you meet his gaze, and he puts a hand to your cheek, thumb on your swollen lower lip.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he compliments; his hand must be heating up under your touch, “did you know? So sweet and stunning. It makes me sick.”

“Thought I was the only one. You…” He looks at you, and you hold him tight, smiling about your joke in advance. “You have such an effect on me, it makes me wanna throw up.”

Right. So in love, it makes your stomach turn.

“Please don’t,” he pleads, conjuring a tender eye smile. The wide grin is unreal. “And let’s get out of here. We can’t keep standing here.”

“Waste of water.”

“Yes, waste of water. That, too. And I should have some lube in the bedroom.”

Of course he’s as impatient as you — although you’re almost a hundred percent sure you could do without that stuff easily. The insides of your thighs are slippery, and you’re certain the shower wasn’t the sole reason for that.

Your legs feel weird, your body heavy when you finally get out. The cosy bathroom is filled with steam and heat, but at least you can breathe easier here than under the piping hot water.

The mirror is fogged up; you glance into it to check your state, but recognise nothing but your vague form. You wipe a stripe the size of your hand along it as you walk past, halting at the door. And when you look back, Jungkook is making quick, brief work on picking up the clothes you haphazardly threw to the side before.

“You don’t wanna do this later?” you ask, still fond.

It’s just him cleaning up the floor, but… you enjoy watching him do mundane things. You might never be able to explain why, but you do.

“Just throwing them into the washing machine. Will turn it on later,” he answers.

He straightens his body with a sigh when he’s done, sniffling as he usually does. His eyes are hidden behind his long hair, so he lifts both his hands to brush the soaked tresses back. The muscles of his arms are mountainous and firm. Tattoos ending at his shoulder.

He’s indescribably pretty like that. Looking up, lips parted, jaw chiselled.

You observe him for a bit longer, gaze trailing down his body. Small nipples, broad and sculpted pecs, six painfully visible rectangles of abs. Cock still mostly awake.

Fuck.

Crossing your legs, you bite your lips, one hand on the door handle. You take in the domesticity. The moment might be subtle and casual, but something about it is incredibly homely.

How you speak to each other, and how his washing machine is cleaning both your clothes. It’s the little things, isn’t it?

Your eyes are fond when you say, “Whenever it does happen… I can already imagine all of it clearly.”

“Hm?” He blinks at you. “All of what, baby?”

“Of being here with you. All the time.” His motions stop. He drops his arms, a strand falling back into his face, but he doesn’t care. Glances at you for a couple seconds until you smile and nod towards the door. “Let’s go.”

But it seems he changed his mind in this split second that you turn to the exit.

Because all of a sudden, just as he did before, he tugs you back. And just like before, you land against the wall, having him staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time. His voice is a whisper, enchanting, “Okay… you know what. Forget it.”

“Huh?”

“Fuck lube, okay?” His eyes are glued to your lips. Then to your pupils. He looks lost. “We can manage. Don’t need the bedroom… just you. Want you right now.”

“Jungko—”

You don’t anticipate it — so it draws a small moan out of you when his fingers suddenly graze between your legs, digging in for just a moment. Fingering you for a split second as you gasp — and then they disappear again.

He moves in to kiss your cheek. Just a peck first. Then his lips open against your neck, hand moving up your body and pushing your tit up. His tongue soon joins the fun, darting through his parted lips, sucking your tits hard. Biting, groaning, moaning.

“Jungkook.” You push your touch through his hair as he kisses his way further down, nibbling at your sides, and you whine, “Don’t wanna wait, Kook…”

His eyes are closed and his voice hushed, raspy and deep as he says between kisses, “I’ll be gone for a moment, baby. You’ll barely notice, I promise.”

Strange how he means distanced from your kiss, not from your body. Strange how you miss each other while in the same room, but not melted into each other.

You’re losing your mind. Throwing your head back, ruining your hair against the tiles. Eyes droopy and hazy, mind turning in various directions as you relish each touch and peck. Your body relaxes; all the weight of the world off your shoulders.

Jungkook fondles your body, caresses all of you, planting kisses on your tummy, your waist, your pelvis. Continues to tug at the flesh of your thighs with his lips. It feels like a massage, not painful but gentle. Careful as he hoists up one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder. 

And then… he starts.

His tongue flashes out to your clit. Parts your folds. It’s difficult from this position, but his pointy wet muscle paints patterns over your pussy. And you reel.

Jungkook truly is an artist. Knows to make you mewl, turns your breaths laboured. You move your hips, guiding his face closer with your hand in his hair, slowly riding it. The French kisses, the brush against your thighs… he’s…

God.

“God,” you echo, “I love this, I—”

He’s feasting. Letting out alluring sounds, spurring you on, and you almost topple over the edge. But Jungkook knows what he’s doing — leaves you yearning, moving away and up to you.

When he said he’d be gone for a moment, he truly meant it.

Your lip quivers when he looks at you, ordering a soft, “You’ll come together with me.” He raises your chin. “Okay? You and I together. Always.”

Must be a hidden message. He’s not just talking about sex anymore, is he? But him and you in one bubble, separated from the world. Nothing but you, you and you.

You barely wait another second. Instead, you immediately lurch forwards, initiating a kiss beyond sinful from the start. Teeth clashing, tongues feral. For a couple seconds you breathe into each other, letting out odd noises, his hand pulling your leg back up again and pinning it against the wall.

You’re on your tippy toes when his cock teases your entrance, his lips soon on your shoulder again. Cold chain brushing your skin. He’s sucking harshly, guiding his dick inside with determination. Sheer impatience is palpable in his touch and audible in his sounds.

The head of his dick parts your folds, diving in; and you let out a moan so lustful that he grows downright desperate against your shoulder. Standing here like this is hard, too; so he puts his palms on your ass, commands—

“Jump once.”

“What?”

“Jump,” he repeats, “I’ll hold you. Want you, please.”

“Okay…” you mumble. You put your hands on his broad shoulder, readying yourself, “Okay.”

And then you do — immediately wrapping your legs around him. And he lets you fall slowly, body pressed against yours, so you’re sandwiched between him and the wall; so he can guide his hardness back to your cunt.

You drop onto it slowly, carefully. Impaling yourself on him, inch by inch penetrating your insides. The more you take in, the deeper the crease between your eyebrows. And when he’s bottomed out, you feel like… yourself again?

Because what moment is more intimate than this? What moment allows you to crawl out of your shell more than this?

Even if in a crude sense, this is yet another definition of home. And every definition can be traced back to him.

“You feeling alright?” he asks, and you nod immediately.

“Is a bit weird, but…” you hold onto him, one hand moving to his face. You don’t finish your sentence; only nod, exhaling against his lips.

“Can I start?”

Another nod; and then he starts pumping in. Slowly in and out; you’re firmly in place against the wall, slipping just a little. His hands engulf your ass again — his strength is mind-numbing, and his sounds loud as he splits you in two.

Your eyes shut for a mini moment, and when they crack open again, they’re met with the still mirror. It’s fogging up again, yet still clear enough to make out Jungkook’s back; the form of his body. Your thoughts tangle up.

You’ve seen him shirtless a million times before, fully bare — but it might be the first time you’re enjoying this very perspective. And the entirety of him… leaves you gasping. Butt naked, ass muscles flexing, the triangle shaped back smooth. Where do his guts even fit?

They’re a blessing, those reflections, catching the way he’s standing, ramming into you. And then you, burying your nails into his shoulder blades, expression fucked out, body moving up and down the wall. Having things done to you by him.

You’re so fucking lucky.

You mutter, “Kook…”

“Yes, baby.”

“You look so good… so…”

“Mmmh, you do, too,” the sentence starts in a clear tone, but morphs into a whisper, “just… can’t see enough of you… shit, babe—”

He leans in, parting your lips with his, your tongues touching as he delivers a rough jab just once. And that’s when things stop working for you.

Because soon enough, you’re swaying to the side, nearly falling; as his protective instincts kick in, immediately holding you, his cock jumps out. And he shakes his head, pecking your temple once, and then deducts, “Okay. This won’t do.”

“Hmmm,” you hum in agreement, weak on your legs, “bad idea for sure.”

“Hold up.”

He’s quick to turn you around, thoroughly in charge of your body tonight — you’re fully under his mercy. Ready to kneel and bend for him. And Jungkook, understanding your boundaries, gives you all you need — knows what to do, knows when to stop.

And you keep handing over control; more so when he pushes you over the sink, stating, “Okay. Looks easier.” A pause. “Looks so much fucking better, too.”

Wish you could see. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re tense.

He leans down to kiss your back. His dick pokes between your ass cheeks again, slipping down and further down until it makes itself home between your nether lips again.

It falls into it in one fell swoop, swiftly, as if it’s no effort at all — guess it never is.

And god, does the position feel heavenly.

Balls deep inside; the first angle that allows full unhinged, animalistic mode.

But he still starts out slow; with long strokes and a hand in your hair. You tumble backwards a little, urging him to move too, lifting your ass higher and pushing your legs together for maximal effect.

Allowing more tightness for him; more friction for you.

“I… missed fucking you so much,” he says between thrusts. “You feel unreal.”

You guess you do. He does, too. Maybe the two of you need a reminder that this is all too real; perhaps a tantalising equivalent to a wake-up-pinch.

So you suggest, “Fuck me harder, Kook.”

“Hmm… want that?”

“Been waiting so fucking long.”

And while a lover of patience and anticipation — who is he to reject your wishes after the entire ordeal occurring in this room? The two of you have dragged out this moment plenty.

So he listens fast; soon using your neck as leverage as his inked fingers wrap it smoothly. Agreeing, “It’d be my literal pleasure, babe.”

God, he’s a dumbass — but you can’t physically react. Too caught up in something else; storing the laughter and jokes for later.

Because he picks up on pace, not too much right away; but enough for his hips to slap against your ass. Enough for you to be catapulted forwards with a whine, cheek pressing to the glass.

You lift your hand, accidentally wiping again, but only manage a trail, hand sliding down. From behind, you hear a hoarse praise, “Looks so fucking hot,” he draws a sharp breath, nearly hissing, “I promise I’ll be careful, just…”

He pulls at your hair. Shoves his cock inside rougher, face closer to you, lips to your cheek. Swallows hard enough for you to hear, and then, “Tell me if it’s too much. Am careful until I can’t be, baby.”

Until he loses control. He says it right before he drops all inhibitions and — goes feral.

You squint your eyes shut, calling out his name; the word echoes in the small room, and for just a second, you worry the neighbours might hear. And then right away, you stop caring again.

Because you want this man. Now and later and forever; want him like this, want him in any way. This isn’t just sex to you — if that’s what you wanted, you’d download an app like your freshman self used to.

No.

No matter how obscene, there’s meaning in every one of your touches; in every stroke, in every word, in every single time you lose yourself in him.

Your stomach twists as he jackhammers into you; you’re craving proximity, craving all his attention. Want all of his emotions and touches raw and merciless. Want to see him.

Although, when your shut eyes open, you only see blurry forms in the mirror moving, him behind you. He squeezes your neck; you see that much before he slides it down your body, straight to your clit, no detours.

He pushes his knee up for a second, touching the edge of the sink and balancing on one leg, but drops it again soon. The white painted, stainless steel of the sink, previously cold on your tummy, burns against your skin now. A chafing feeling.

Jungkook draws more forms against your clit, but then retracts his hand; instead, squishing your tits, indecisive where to touch. But it’s the last move he makes before he straightens his body, palms on your ass until he spanks just once and…

Pulls out again.

What?

“Look at me, sweetheart,” you register.

You pant, fingers clutching the sink and gulping down the tiredness before you manage a turn. Your eyes land on his dick first; it’s fully drenched in your arousal, so unbreakably stiff.

He whispers again, “Look at me,” but the moment you do, he doesn’t withhold your stare for too long. Instead, his hands are back on your cheeks, drawing you close, seeking your lips. His never-satisfied thirst matches yours; you want to remain here and freeze time.

With your arms around his neck, he guides you towards the washing machine, pushing the clothes further aside. He helps you get on it, but you argue immediately, “This could be dangerous, right? Shouldn’t sit here, I think… might break…”

“It’ll be okay,” he says, making himself comfortable between your legs, pushing them apart with his thighs. Two fingers hold your chin, lips ghosting over yours. “Is a cheap ass thing… want a new one anyway.”

You wonder if he’ll say that about all the furniture he’ll fuck you on. Because observing his eyes, you know that he will — will soil every inch of his apartment within, what you anticipate, a short period of time.

But unfortunately for the washing machine, you’re too weak to reject the offer.

So you hold him tight, jostling him closer to you as you ask, “Yeah?”

“Mhmmmm.” The word drowns in your moan when his cock glides back in; when will you ever get used to this? “Don’t worry… won’t break as badly as we will.”

Well, fuck.

The ridges of his cock drag just right along your walls, the angle making your mouth water. Your cunt is burning; and he still dares to ask, “Okay like that?”

“More than okay, Kook… more than—”

He always screws you numb; barely ever lets you finish your sentences. Your moans have become a constant interruption, along with the goddamn things he says, “Your pussy is so good. So, so good.”

And then he’s back making out with you, sweatier than before. His body is enticingly warm, muscles working on you. Both his and your hair sticks to the nape of the neck or your back, and you hold onto him, keening against his lips.

Then, you lean back for a second, keyed up as fuck, propping up your body with your arms. Your palms press against the back of the machine, and he inches close to explore the bare skin of your torso. His chain skims your nipples, as if on purpose; and he kisses you here, there, everywhere.

Neck, clavicles, tits, jaw.

Perspiring without an end, all of this could be gross. But instead, you feel hyped up, sexy as never before. Dizzy at the sight of his golden skin, the small beads of sweat spreading on it.

It takes one or two more minutes of this insanity until things come to an eventual end. A glorious end, that is — filled with deep moans, squealed calls of names, unrhythmic thrusts that fasten for the finale.

“I’ll come,” Jungkook states, and you shoot back up to him, holding his head against the mounds of your tits. He kisses between them, breathing irregular, words muffled, “Gonna come so hard, what the f—”

And when he does, you lose all coherent thoughts immediately. Not that you could think before — but his uncontrolled exclaims already make you wish for a whole new round. Nevermind that your pussy is wrecked and beaten.

Vocal as ever, he finishes with deep shoves, slowing down with each second. His lips remain open between your collarbones, and you feel his eyebrows draw together. Thick strings of hot cum filling you up, your cunt tightens.

And somehow, after all this, he still finds the energy to sneak his hand between your bodies, blindly seeking your clit until he finds it. Familiar circles render you breathless, even though they’re lazy — but picking up on intensity when he leans back, still breathing hard.

He looks absolutely done — still fucking the rest of him into you. But you’re moaning and groaning, and he’s far from giving up as he says, “Come with me, baby.”

Honestly, he doesn’t need to tell you. You’re already calling and blurting out random words, already limp. Wrapping your legs around his torso with the tiny remaining energy you have left, absolutely insane.

Jungkook kisses you one last time. And you let the build up in your lower tummy and pussy proceed; up and up and up to the peak — until he delivers one last stroke, cock already softening, finger on your nub diligent and…

You milk his dick in its entirety. Your pussy clenches and unclenches. Random figures swim in your vision, flashy behind your eyelids. Limbs trembling, body a mess and fingers hooking into his chain, you only notice now that you’re repeatedly whispering his name.

Winding and crying. Trying not to tug too hard, to break the jewellery, but still urging him closer, closer.

You’re shivering, surviving the vertigo, breathing stagnant. Trying to control it. Quivering like fucking crazy, not feeling your legs.

Also hating how his cum is dripping onto the damn washing machine. In your hazy mood, you laugh a little.

It takes a bit of time for the two of you to calm down, to dim the adrenaline in your nerves. Your chests rise and fall in unison, still clutching to the embrace. His skin is flushed, yours hot, skin tingling with the lingering heat of the passed passion.

And when he finally moves back, looking at you, you see half a dozen things in there. Satisfaction and vulnerability among them. Maybe even a hint of mischievousness, proud of whatever just happened; happy with the emotions it conjured.

Stars in his eyes. Contentment, composure and affection at last.

A pleasant stillness follows, the world outside the bathroom nonexistent. The aftermath of the steamy encounter lingers until you break the silence after all.

“When the hell,” you start, throat dry, “did you get so broad?”

“…What?”

“You just. You looked endless in the mirror. You’re so—”

Amused, he displays a grin as sly as you adore. He tsks and then mocks, “Stop drooling.”

“You first.”

His chuckle is throaty; a result of the constant exclaims and the absolute dehydration. You give the two of you a moment to collect saliva on your tongue, to swallow and wet your cords.

Your fingers paint an invisible, light pattern on his skin; tracing his tattoos is one of your favourite things to do. You jest, “That’s a good way to destress.”

He arches an eyebrow, then rolls his eyes — but the devotion towards you behind the gesture is irrefutable. It carries into his words, no matter how playfully mocking his tone or his sighs, “Everything for the princess.”

“So,” you pause, lips curling into a soft smile. “Is this what I’m gonna be getting for the rest of my life?”

You see it immediately. The explosion in his eyes; the burst of stars in the depths of his pupils. Clear as the night sky, fond and sweet and magical. Guess you spoke big words for sure.

“…The rest of your life, huh?” he asks.

“No?”

“Is that what you want?”

Ever-the-boomerang, you gauge his reaction, closing the distance between you. Lips barely apart, you throw back again, “Don’t you?”

You don’t need to glance through his ribs, lungs, blood and skin; you see the swelling around his heart. Emotions swimming in it in abundance. You see all of it right in his eyes.

And his voice proves it; delicate and quiet, “Baby… you make my heart drop to my stomach all the time. Do I not look at you like I want a rest of my life with you?”

Gosh. You’re too weak for this.

“Look at me like that more often,” you answer, breathing against him, eyes dancing with delight, “maybe I’ll believe you then.”

“Huh,” he makes, letting out an entertained huff, “brat. Maybe later. Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed for now, alright?”

Right. You forgot you’re still here. Snapping back into reality is always a task.

Of course it is.

Because your world is a cocoon; you don’t want to leave it just yet. And maybe, somewhere in the near future — you won’t have to anyway.

Jungkook and you don’t waste minutes doing formalities tonight. No flickering candle flames; no organised set up of your table. You dim the lights, snatching a lamp from his bedroom and rely on it along with the TV’s brightness.

You filled your plates and stomachs with a dish he’s wanted to show you for a while. It’s some special Jeon recipe — limited to him specifically, not his family. The brief cut in your relationship kept you from the meal, but watching him fiddle with the pots and cutlery was worth the wait after all.

He’s still proud of it; you’re filled to the brim, sick to the core, but the noodle-Buldak-mayo-perilla-oil-combination introduced the night just perfectly.

Your body is limp against his after dinner, bloated. A mutual agreement concluded that watching a movie might be the easiest activity you could indulge in to further destress. So you cuddle up, eyes droopy as you wait for the Netflix logo and thump to subside.

You let the username float by, though unable to suppress your giggle. Your back shakes against him, his hand halting mid-air, remote control in it, and you comment, “Letjungcook7. You’re such a dork.”

“Why?” You look back, met with raised eyebrows and round eyes. “Do you not like it?”

“I love it. Don’t you ever dare change it.”

He tuts, trademark smirk tilted; responds, “And don’t you ever change your Sunny Baudelaire icon.”

“God, she’s an iconic baby,” you groan, enthusiastic; your hands gesture to the TV, Baudelaires nowhere in sight, “I will never shut up about this show.”

“That’s why you’re not allowed to change it. Kinda cute how much you love it.”

“Jungkook,” you tug at his unoccupied arm, placing his wrist and palm over your belly button, “would you ever rewatch it with me?”

His hand rubs gently over your shirt, and then drops until his fingers are toying with your — his — jogger’s strings. “I’m a pro at rewatching. I’m down.”

You whisper a dragged celebratory word, eyes back to the screen. He’s scrolling through the genres fast, barely inhaling the titles and summaries. And when he skips three more of the stuff you’d usually settle on, you say, “Don’t think you’ll find anything on there.”

Ironically enough, he answers, “We’ve barely looked. Look. Knives Out’s second part is on there.”

“I just watched it recently. Hmm, what about that Poe movie with Christian Bale?”

On cue, he passes it three seconds later, only stopping on it for a moment before he voices, “Hmm…”

You wait. Drag out another second. Then conclude, “Okay, you’re not feeling it. Got it. Something else?”

“What about Disney?”

“What about scrolling until we fall asleep?”

The hand still busy with the strings moves up to your sides, pinching you lightly. You flinch, hard enough to nearly break his nose, overdramatic by nature. Amidst your commotion, you hear him say, “Don’t mock me. I’ll kick you from the couch.”

“I’ll just stay on the floor then.”

“Angel, I swear.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.”

But you’re not.

Because the bicker continues for another ten minutes, remote control snatched every now and then, ideas suggested and immediately rejected.

Jungkook admits his guilty pleasures merely a couple minutes later, and you conjure all your patience and discourse abilities to explain why you can’t watch The Notebook or Titanic anymore.

But once Dion’s soprano voice builds a nest in a lobe of your brain, you give in, half laughing, half agitated as you tackle the 90s classic — only for Jungkook to click out again.

“It’s no fun when we’re not both ready to watch it.”

“Dude…”

More scrolling, you guess.

Five more minutes pass — and eventually, Titanic deserted, you sing the songs of Coco instead. You expect Jungkook’s attention and lips to shift halfway through the movie, tracing down your neck or along your sides – a standard for a weekday movie night.

But to your surprise, he powers through it with minimal dialogue and wide, focused eyes. Palm above your ribs, moveless under your shirt and his cheek pressed against your heartbeat, you assume he’s fallen asleep by the time the credits roll.

Until – you feel warm liquid wetting your shirt, a sniffle combining with his shaky breath before you ask with your own damp eyes, “Babe— are you crying?”

His answer is delightfully unashamed and immediate, “I’ve never watched Coco without crying.”

The soft strains of the movie’s soundtrack won’t let your eyes dry either; but Jungkook seems far more into it than you. Adoration burns hot in your veins.

“You never told me that!” you exclaim.

“Because it’s not worth telling. Should be a given — these movies are made to cry to!”

You giggle through your tears. Jungkook’s mind works in miraculous ways — non-judgemental, yet probably flashing a side-eye to those who do not partake in a sob fest during Coco or Encanto.

“I honestly love how you’re not a toxic male at all, you know?” you point out; you feel a huff against your chest.

At least he’s smiling through the brief sadness, too.

You crane your neck, not quite turning around just yet, and watch him rub his cheek clean off the tears. Not that his eyes have stopped welling up, though.

For a moment, you observe, staring at the swollen, pouty lower lip. His pupils glimmer in the TV’s light, long locks brushed back; half of them tied in a tiny ponytail.

You could overthink every detail of his face. Tell him all about his everlasting elegance. Instead, you only lower your voice, soft as you say, “You look pretty even when you cry.”

“Thank you,” he returns, though fingertips still work at the liquid, and you can’t help but laugh.

You can barely believe that’s the same confident beast who was pressing you against cool tiles just an hour ago. The stark contrast baffles you.

You’re amused when you question, “It really affects you so much?”

“Everything about it!” he immediately argues. You expand your eyes. “The way Coco looks at Miguel at the end. And that freaking moment when she meets her parents at the end. Does it not affect you?”

“Oh, of course it does,” you defend, “I’m a story girl. I’ll cry reading and watching these things, for sure.”

“And then the lyrics,” he continues, in his element a hundred percent, “the thought of remembering someone even after they’re gone and far away…”

The further his sentence progresses, the more the words blur. His voice is feeble, hoarse when he gets to the final syllables. When he pauses between his rambling to draw a breath, you hear a heartbreaking shake in his inhale.

And the exhale sounds like a quiet sob.

You turn back immediately, pressing onto the pause button, remote control still in his hand. The credits darken the room as opposed to the movie’s colours before. You see a damp trail along his cheek, eyelashes wet.

Your smile vanishes as you stare a little longer. The blanket falls from your chest into your lap when you lift your arm from under it, hastily drying his tears with your thumbs. Just slightly, he leans into the touch, but his face soon falls, an attempt to hide.

You ask, “What’s wrong?”

Jungkook isn’t embarrassed of tears — you figured this out without him admitting it to you. But he’s embarrassed of the guilt he feels; acknowledging it when he speaks.

“It’d just be nice,” hands holding his face drop; you touch his chest, “to make up with the family like this. They made it look easy.”

You keep looking. Bewildered, unable to answer for seconds too long. You blink until the words sink in properly, incapable of more than, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, no,” he argues, shaking his head, “I mean. Who am I to tell you something like this?”

“It’s okay. Your worries are legit worries, too. Look at me,” you reassure, prompting him to meet your gaze. “You’re not a bad person. Okay? It’s… so terrible that you think you are.”

“I fucked up.”

It dawns on you once more that he firmly believes that; causes a searing sting. The process is neither a smooth nor a quick one — you know it’ll take a while for him to convince him otherwise. To drop his current beliefs about himself.

“You didn’t,” you refute, firm certainty and conviction in your voice. “That’s not how a fuck-up is defined, I promise you. And those who are actually wrong probably know, too.”

“It’d just be nice,” he starts again; the shrug of his one shoulder doesn’t distract you from the misery and self-loathing in his eyes, “if he called at least.”

“I know. I don’t know, I… do you think you could call instead?”

Jungkook’s lashes brush his skin, the apples of his cheeks not as round and squishy as usual. Yet, the sadness makes him look younger, softer.

You sigh; a warm blanket isn’t enough anymore. You need to wrap him in the comfort of the world — ideally, in his father’s care.

Jungkook opens his mouth for another argument, but then holds it in, says after another moment of contemplation, “Actually… There’s a gathering coming up. I’ll see my people there, so… I don’t know. Trying won’t hurt, right?”

“It never does.”

His eyes start unfocusing. You recognise it in the way he glues his gaze to a point on the glass table, unblinking, staring nowhere in truth. You keep your attention on him for another second, hoping he’ll look at you, even if forlorn.

But when he doesn’t, you wrap your arms around him instead. His chest is calmer against your head now, breathing as soft as the palms that find your back. He presses you into his body by mere inches; you barely notice.

Your fingers draw shapes on his arm, a subtle consoling gesture. In the background, you hear the song fade, volume lower now. The movie soon transitions to something else; you don’t pay any mind to it, drowsy and distracted in his embrace.

But then your mind wanders; to the man keeping Jungkook’s thoughts hostage. You remember the conversation the two of you had last Sunday. You recall the way your hand held his broken heart together.

You wish it was as easy as a small scar — an echo of whatever once transpired, but also a reminder that it healed.

Then, for a second, you think of your own wounds. How they still need to be cured, too. How years and time alone won’t fix issues; you need to tackle them actively — maybe at some point, the two of you can.

You laugh softly against his shirt, burying between his pecs; joking, “We’re perfect for each other. Dysfunctional families and whatnot.”

His chuckle is still a light tremble, but genuine enough for you to celebrate. His hands push a little harder into your back; your body shifts up his lap, butt half on his thigh. Eyes shut, still sniffling.

Jungkook wraps around you like a soothing force, an invisible bubble. A bandage despite carrying all bruises. You sigh in contentment, head dizzy from exhaustion; waking up just when he blurts a question again.

“You really think that, right? That I’m not a bad person.”

You crack your eyes open a slit.

You understand. Someone who overthinks needs multiple repeated reassurances — you’re the same.

So you nod against him, guaranteeing, “You’re… kind of ridiculously amazing. You’re someone who gives all those people hope who don’t believe in humanity anymore.” Pause. “And I admire you in every way. So much.”

He doesn’t respond. You wait. Further dead silence, interrupted by the soft sounds of the TV. You lick your lower lip, dropping your gaze to where your thumb rubs his wrist. Tracing a vein.

His mellow voice reverberates, a melody to your eardrums when he whispers, “We’d do this so much if you were here all the time.”

“Crying in each other’s arms, huh?”

He clicks his tongue, accompanied by the grin you’re certain graces his face, even if you can’t see. You hear it in his voice all the more, “Sure. Also, have dinner together. Shower and watch movies together. Laugh and cry.”

You smile. “I still can’t believe it, you know? That you want this… and me at all.”

“You feel that, too, yeah?” Fingertips move up your spine, between your shoulder blades and then to the nape of your neck. Tickling, grazing gently. “I promise I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t truly feel all that, though.”

“What’s all that?”

“Just.” His chest rises. Then falls. “Everything.”

One of your heartbeats freezes, you’re sure. And when it comes back alive, you think — maybe he doesn’t need the world’s comfort after all. Or his father’s care. Maybe yours is enough right now.

But then again.

You’d be damned if you kept your traumas intact. Or his. You took each other as you came long ago — as vulnerable human beings, with a whole lot of baggage. With all the injuries on your heart.

Yet, this isn’t a state you want to accept. For neither of you.

Your unwavering belief remains steadfast — that one day, things need to become… okay.

So you gulp down all the pain, lighting a candle in your chest, and say,

“It’s not over yet, baby.”

Zara keeps yelling orders around. Her voice, usually collected and tender, is agitated today. You can barely imagine how many little tasks, how many stressed phone calls must be overrunning her.

You establish a distance between your device and your ear, protecting your hearing with one eye squinting shut. And when she returns to the conversation, you exhale through the nose.

“Sorry. You were asking—”

“How’s it look?” you repeat.

“I mean, everyone’s stressed,” she responds, clearly frustrated; as if it should be obvious to you. And it is; but you’ll spiral, too, if you don’t keep your calm, at least. “A lot to do.”

“You’re sure you don’t need me to come earlier?”

“All good, love. You’re not a manager yet,” she stops her speech to mumble something to another co-worker, imaginary hands jam packed with preparations for the press conference. “But when you are, you won’t know what to do with all the stress.”

“Great outlook into a potential future.”

“I just mean you should enjoy things while they last.”

Zara isn’t the only one wandering up and down the building to assure perfection. She’s only one of the big mentors, managers to handle everything; responsible for the catering and content to be presented at the conference.

Her team stands firmly behind her, but you don’t blame her for still allowing her head to steam. Of all busy people in their blazers and slacks, however, she’s been the only one to spare some time for you.

You’re grateful for her enthusiasm and support. You smile as you ask, “Do you think I can answer everything the way I intend to?”

“I think so.”

“It’s so new to me.”

“Yeah, but you’re a natural at this stuff. And also,” she speaks slower now. The chaos behind her has calmed a little; her voice echoes off somewhere. Perhaps a restroom. “Things are looking good.”

You stop sauntering through the room, pausing in front of the bed’s corner before dropping onto it. Dragging your tongue over your lower lip, you blink, and then ask, “You’re sure?”

“We had a couple conversations over here. Made a few more phone calls, and I think you don’t need to worry about a thing. We’ll come up with something if things derail, though, okay?”

You’re uncertain, still anxious. Should this afternoon flop, you’ll be screwed.

You need it to succeed. You can’t afford misfires. Ugh.

Restless, your foot taps against the floor. You try not to think of things going astray; try to think of a smooth progress, not precarious in any way.

Yet, you ask doubtfully, “Can we do that?”

“We always can. That’s business.”

Guess she’s right. Your mother has saved you one too many times — from stupid things you did as well as from things you never needed saving from.

A rich human being’s power over the media — and frankly, the world — is unbeatable. Barely to be underestimated.

“Okay,” you mutter, “thank you.”

Despite only hearing her voice, you imagine her nod, the way she often does. You miss the warm, promising palm on your shoulder. Appreciate that she’s still here instead of dropping you to the side; leaving the call to handle more relevant issues.

No, she lingers there; you hear her breathe until she asks, “Are you bringing your man, too, by the way?”

Your man.

You straighten your back in pride, bright smile back, “Yeah! He said he’d come and support me. But he’s not home yet.”

“Oh? Well, you gotta be here in three hours. Where’d he go?”

“God knows. But don’t worry about punctuality.” You hear a hum, glancing up at the clock. Past noon. “Hey, also. My parents are definitely gonna come, right?”

“Babe,” she drags the word a little, and you can almost see her side-eyeing you, “journalists will be present. Cameras everywhere. At least your mother would never miss such a thing.”

Right. Cares about that company too much.

You remember the times she proved it to you. When you’d come home from middle school, eating some extravagant lunch while watching her talk on TV. Conversing with your staff.

“Okay. Good,” you say, happy about that very answer for once.

Outside, a door creaks. Steps echo through the hallway, a soft call of your name following as you hear the jingling of keys stop.

He sounds joyful.

You get up, phone halfway off your ear as you say, “Hey, I should go. I think that he—”

And the moment you look at the open door of the bedroom, your heart stops. For a second, you fear an intruder at his apartment, but the longer you look, the more your brain gives out.

The black-white-red jacket hugs his broad shoulders comfortably, the thin white sweater underneath it nearly transparent enough to reveal his tiny nipples. But despite his stature, it’s not his body that kills the power in your head.

It’s the—

You murmur last words into the phone, making out a goodbye that doesn’t reverberate as much anymore. She’s probably out of the restroom again; too distracted to give your mumble any attention anyway.

You place your phone where you previously sat and inhale his appearance carefully.

First off — you can see his ears. Can see most of his eyes. His forehead.

His hair is still dark, but it’s tamed. The wild locks, usually a feature you’ve gotten used to over the span of that one year, lay comfortably on his head. In fact, most of them are gone.

You feel a needle in your chest, but one of the surprising sort. Not painful at all.

“Wow,” you only say.

He reaches to the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing the hair there. “Yeah?”

You move towards his body, eyes fixated on every hair strand. Then, close enough, you state the obvious, “You cut your hair.”

“I… yeah. Is it terrible?” he asks, round eyes meeting yours. He raises his hand again, to his ear this time, scratching behind it for a second. “Not used to it at all. But I figured I’d look a little more serious as an artist like this.”

Really? Most artists you knew cared the least about a fancy appearance.

Then again, Jungkook doesn’t look fancy. He just looks different. Breathtaking, more mature, older.

His cheekbones look more chiselled now, his eyes wider. You could pass out right here, right now, and he still wouldn’t know how relentlessly he affects you.

“More serious?” you ask, less because you need an explanation. More because your mind keeps wandering, and you can’t fathom a word he’s saying.

“Just. Needed a change, I think,” he admits, “and wanted to adjust to a press conference’s typical look, too.”

“You did this for the press conference?”

“I wanted to look put together.”

Your heart dissolves and dissipates. His voice is soft as a petal, tender like the colours on his arm. The expression he sports is unsure, like he wants to hide — waiting for your opinion.

He really put thought into this. Woke up this morning and set a goal with purpose, not uttering a word to you to surprise you a couple hours later.

You don’t know what to say. You barely know what to feel, except this unbearable urge to ramble down every piece of tiny emotion he’s ever made you feel.

You want his body wrapped around you, engulfed in a blanket, head on his chest and slumbering for the rest of your life. Want to mumble little confessions, shiver when his lips touch your scalp.

Overwhelmed — that’s what you are.

“I loved the long hair,” you finally admit, “I guess I got too used to it, so I need to adjust, but. But… this is so… It… it suits you.”

You’re stumbling over your words, suggesting doubt. Not the way to go. Perhaps they shouldn’t have chosen you as one of the press conference speakers after all. 

Jungkook’s concern grows visible in his big, round pupils; expressive, a true glimpse into his heart. You feel bad because you’re not as good with words as he is, and because he seemed so happy about his choice.

You just can’t fucking express yourself — even though you’re melting inside, falling harder. And maybe he notices your awkwardness, because he tries again.

“You’re uh— sure you don’t hate it?”

“No! God, no. It’s different. You look amazing, Kook. You look like…”

He swallows. “Like what?”

“You’re so pretty, Jeon Jungkook.” You say it with genuinity this time. He closes his lips, blinking, and while he attempts to veil his relief, you still see the high rise of his chest. “You look fucking gorgeous, no matter what you do. I… I mean it.”

The answer satisfies him. His risen shoulders drop a little, tension falling off, and he fixes the already perfectly sitting collar of his jacket before he smiles. Just a little, a subtle twitch of the corners of his lips.

As soft as his response, “I always aim to reach your level, you know?”

You roll your eyes. Partly to keep them from watering because your heart is bursting. Splintering like every morning and every night; you wonder if you’ll ever get used to it.

A couple gentle words lie heavy on your tongue, pressing against the muscle to let them out; but at the prospect of actually uttering them, your guts twist. You don’t want to throw up before the meeting.

So you remove the tightness from your chest with a deep exhale, nearly until your lungs are dry, and say, “Shut up.”

Playfully, you deliver a soft push against his chest, laughing when his dramatic ass stumbles backwards. Submerged in those goddamn dimples, you immediately grab the hem of his jacket and before you know it, you’ve taken a step forward and landed in his arms.

You sneak your arms underneath the leather-ish material, not hesitating for a second before you’re squeezing his torso. He lets out a choked sound, groaning, but reacts similarly fast as you.

His heartbeat accelerates for a moment, right against your ear as you make yourself small. The sweater smells like his favourite detergent and him; musky, fresh. Your palms, flat against his back, crave deeper touch.

Nothing crude; just an afternoon on the bed behind you, limbs entwined, laughing about things that probably aren’t that funny anyway.

For a moment, the silence transcends words. You inject the blend of gratitude and affection through your touch, ensuring he understands.

But when it’s not a testament to your emotions enough, you speak against his chest, voice very likely muffled, “You didn’t have to do this for me… you just. You never have to do anything for me, but you still do.”

“I’ll do anything for you.”

Immediate and sincere. Voice unwavering.

God, you’re not his strongest soldier.

A smile tugs at your lips, and you chide, "Stop that."

"What?"

"If you keep saying these things," you continue, a frisky lilt in your voice, "I'll die. Do you want me to die?"

Jungkook chuckles. Always a soothing melody in a hushed room. He remarks, grip still wrapped around you securely, "Acting all innocent now."

You don’t understand right away what he means — but then you hear his heartbeat, picking up on pace again.

Makes you want to squash him harder. Melt into him further.

“Shut up, Jeon,” you respond with a nudge, cheek pressed against his shirt. Just a moment longer — just a couple more seconds to inhale the solacing scent.

Your heart is unguarded; he could sever it if he wanted to. He’s proven that he has the power to. Yet, you keep fuelling it, vulnerable in his warmth as you say, “You’ve no clue what you mean to me, Kookie.”

Your vivid imagination might be forcing things upon your mind that aren’t actually there, but you do think you perceive the way his entire body melts. Nearly limp, in a state so relaxed and peaceful that you have only experienced in the mornings before.

Waking him up for work, feeling weightless limbs wrapped around you, passed out.

His fingers trace patterns on your back lightly, stirring from bottom to top and back. They first stop at the small of your back, then lift off your body, hands suddenly on your shoulders.

He pushes you off him, your movements reluctant, and looks at you with profound sincerity. His voice matches his expression, gentle and adoring, “Will you tell me how much I mean to you?”

Amidst the delicate minutes you spend standing between the bedroom and the living room, you almost forget that there’s a world outside. It’s a little more grey than before, similar to the suit you’ll be wearing in a couple hours.

You remember the prospect of an audience, the answers you’ve prepared, to questions they probably will ask. Zara told you they wouldn’t hold back — they’d phrase their inquiries friendly, but still keep the intentions devilish.

Right.

The world is still turning out there. You want it to stop for the two of you — frozen moments. But it can’t, at least not yet. Right now it’s too real; and you guess that the worst part is that in your line of business, it will keep revolving around people like you.

Whether you want it or not.

So maybe, if it truly needs to keep spinning and can’t halt for you, keeping you in the centre, you should give it something to talk about, too.

Something crisp, something new. Without a care for it, but all the care for you and the man in front of you.

Which is why you spare him another fond smile, forehead calm and your demeanour confident — and tell him, “I’ll do my best to let you know."

The audience stretches to the far back. All the rows are filled to the brim with reporters or guests. The shutter of the cameras and the flashing lights are agitating.

You look down.

Nervously tapping your feet on the stage, you shrink into yourself inch by inch. Your seat is uncomfortable, though padded, a little too warm against your ass right now. Zara notices your tick and puts a steady hand to your knee, repeating for the millionth time today, “Stop. It’ll be okay.”

“It’s just dawning on me though, Zara.”

“What is?”

You nod faintly towards the mic and the attendees, tell her, “That I was actually chosen to speak. They shouldn’t have chosen me.”

“You asked for it.”

“Yeah, but there are more important things to discuss.”

Zara’s lips form a circle; she shakes and lowers her head, sending out a beam of air that you feel on your wrist, blazer sleeves rolled up. You’ve been like that all evening.

“You can do it,” she repeats patiently, “you’re the boss’ daughter and they want your opinion. You’ll hit them hard with yours.”

You suck in a breath, leave the air in your cheeks, and then puff it out again. “I want to. I hope to, I just— never thought it’d be this nerve-wracking. Don’t wanna say anything wrong.”

The subtle shake of her head continues — or reemerges —, lips in a thin line, eyes slowly blinking, “Mh-mh. We talked about it, okay? Practised all the questions they could ask. You’ll be good.”

“You gotta promise.”

“As much as I can, babe, it’s up to y—” She takes in your falling face, holding back with a sigh when she sees the dread in your pupils. “I promise. Of course.”

She taps your knee, softly and lightly, and then says, “I’m so curious about everyone’s reactions. Like. Gosh, just look at those people.”

You understand what she means. “I know.”

Zara places a manicured thumb on her matte red lips, mumbling, “Here for entertainment. At least a third of them will add their own fantasies to the articles they’ll write. Hypotheses and manipulative, neutrally phrased thoughts. Cockroaches.”

Funny. That’s what you call them, too. A collective understanding, you see.

But.

“Shhh,” you voice, “they—”

“It’s fine. They know it, too. Like lawyers do.”

Can’t refute. Eun told you one too many times how unfair the law business usually is, and how she’ll strive to not have anyone ever manipulate her. To remain genuine.

“Yeah, but,” you still argue, “I imagined they’d be listening in all the time. Don’t they do lip reading and stuff?”

She nods, a finger still on her mouth, smiling, “Mhm. I also feel like I could say whatever, but it’ll be you they’ll focus on today.”

Your heart drops, an uncomfortable twist in your guts adding to the stress. Might have to dash to the bathroom at the very last minute. You curse, “Shit, Zara… I should fucking ru—”

“Stay. You can do this. I promise.”

“Okay,” you take another deep breath, helping your oxygen-lacking, spinning head, “okay.”

You look back to the media present, ready to survive questions; prepared to provide answers. The moderator is talking to your mother at the front, covering the mic with a hand.

They gave you around five minutes to speak, and in that time, you need to answer everything. How you do it is up to you, but the pressure to perform in a certain way, accordingly, weighs heavily on you.

But it’s alright.

You’ll just need to stay confident. Stick to your message. They’ll have things to say anyway — and you’ll make the best of them.

You stare past the lights, squinting to find him, raking your neck. His figure towers in the back, easy to detect, and once he meets your eyes — or perhaps never having averted his from you — he lifts a hand to wave in tiny motions.

Then, he drops his fingers again, entwining them in front of his body. He isn’t necessarily allowed here, but you were able to sneak him through in advance. So now he’s a couple feet from the wall, choosing to stand rather than sit, so you find him easily.

So you seek his eyes for comfort if need be.

Before you parted near the entrance, he said, “I’ll be offering a dozen thumbs up like a fool if you need me to.”

You chuckled — but maybe he meant it. Because his smile and nod undoubtedly dispel your fears; as if he can see you struggling.

The seconds drag on, and the conference begins seven minutes later. Your mother is the first to talk, outlining a general overview of what’s to come. Of Charmante’s philosophies, of its success, praising the team.

Then, she forwards to important employees like Zara, letting them ramble about launches or ideas in depth. Business strategies, partnerships, bringing across points that you usually don’t get the chance to share.

This is legit press; even though out for a loophole, they won’t follow you around or hide in the shadows. Incessant and vexing, but at least they’re allowed here.

Conversations about new collections, store openings as well as expansions and customer engagement pass in a trice, and at some point, another coworker is uttering last words to a last question.

And you realise — that you’re next.

The moderator introduces you with pride; everyone applauds, smiling at you fondly despite all the controversies. ”Controversies.” Under quote marks, as Zara pointed out, because you never committed an offence.

You stand on weak knees. Trembling when you grip the podium. It’s like the sound in the room fades, a single peeping tone overshadowing all noise. You barely blink anymore; not even the flashy white can shut your eyes.

And god, you can hear your breathing. Your damn heart. Your nose sucks in all the air available in the room, or at least in the building, and then you open your mouth to speak.

a/n: this is not a cliffhanger!! tumblr just doesn't allow to drop looong posts anymore, so here's the rest of the chapter lol, keep reading and enjoying, i love you and will see you on the other side!! and don't forget to support this chapter, folks 🥺 <3

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts fics #jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook smut #thebtswritersclub #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

[gloomygumi]

quirks - satoru gojo x gn!reader

summary: part two︱you like to think you’re aware of all of satoru’s quirks, but shoko thinks you may have missed a few.

contents: fluff, newly realised feelings, highschool!gojo, he's honestly not even actually there for a lot of it, shoko and geto are tho, honestly a little bit of whipped gojo, probably ooc but definitely self indulgent

word count: 1.2k

a/n: how are we coping since 236 guys ????? wrote this feeling like i’d been widowed so i guess this counts as my coping mechanism 😭 hope you enjoy anyway, constructive criticism and any ideas or opinions you have are always welcome !!

in your past year of knowing satoru gojo, you’d made a note of his multiple quirks.

you noticed how when the group of second years went out to eat together at the weekends, he would whine about how good everyone else’s food looks until everyone at the table took pity (or annoyance, in suguru’s case) and spooned some of their meal onto his plate.

you noticed how when he was in class, listening to yaga drone on about the different types of curses, he would never let all of the legs of his chair rest on the ground. he was constantly swinging back and forth. it’s a miracle that he’s never fallen back, you think.

you even noticed how he somehow kept a momento from every single hangout and mission, each of them stored in a little wooden box he kept on his bedside table back in the dorms. in the past, you’d seen him slide seemingly worthless ticket stubs and receipts into his pockets, and when the curiosity finally got the better of you and you asked what he did with them, you only received a cheeky grin and a wink from your friend.

so, when shoko finally told you some of her own observations of his behaviours and habits during your lunch break one day, it’s safe to say it shocked you.

“i think it’s pretty obvious that he likes you.” she speaks casually, as if her words hadn’t caused you to choke on your own food. she passes you her bottle of water and pats your back. “you couldn’t tell?”

after gulping down half of her water, and spluttering a few times, you finally found your voice, letting out a strangled “he’s my friend - he does not like me like that!”

the look shoko gives you is one of ridicule, but before she can say anything else, you quickly continue.

“how’d you even come to that conclusion anyway, you’re not usually much of a gossip. that’s suguru’s job." you attempt to joke, but you feel the strained smile drop from your face as the boy you mentioned approaches the table and plops down beside your friend.

speak of the devil...

you see shoko's eyes light up, but before you can even attempt to cut her off again, she turns to suguru. "geto! back me up here, isn't it so obvious that gojo likes (y/n)?"

"mhm." he hums, barely even acknowledging the fact that his confirmation has sent you spiraling for the second time. "he's not exactly subtle about it."

"you guys are being ridiculous."

now it's suguru's turn to look at you like you've suddenly grown two heads. "you really didn't know?"

shoko lets out a laugh at his genuine confusion, and reaches into her bag to pull out a cigarette. you quickly hand her a lighter you keep on hand just for moments like this and she quietly thanks you before continuing. "have you never noticed how he's always touching you in some way?"

"that's just how he is!" you defend. "he's always hanging off of suguru too!"

the pair in front of you share a look, before geto continues. "what about how he never lets you walk closest to the road?"

you stop for a second, trying to pinpoint an occasion - just one - where he had only to come up empty handed. in fact, the more you think about it, the more sense it makes. you replay your moments walking back to the dorms after class with satoru, with his arm always casually wrapped around your shoulder. you remember how he always looked comfortable and at peace. you even remember how he would gently bump you closer into the sidewalk if you were walking with someone else, sticking his tongue out at you and ruffling your hair if you voiced a complaint at his behaviour.

your mouth dries up as you try to come up with another excuse to brush off your friends' observations, but you start to question yourself.

maybe they're right...?

you shake you head, as if trying to clear your head of these thought. "he does that for everyone, you guys are just reading too much into it."

between drags of her cigarette, shoko chuckles. "he's never done it for me." geto leans forward from his seat across from you and gently flicks in between your eyebrows. your hand immediately clamps down on the spot, and you groan at him. "what was that for!?"

he ignores your dramatics. "why are you so sure that we're lying?"

his genuine question makes you stop to think. it wasn't that you didn't like gojo, in fact, you hadn't dedicated much time to thinking about him in that way at all. your friends being so insistent on the fact that he liked you made you slowly start to realise that maybe you did share some affections for the ill mannered boy.

you continue to mull over as many interactions and memories that you have shared with satoru, slowly connecting the dots in your head. he always was more gentle with you, never polite but always kind. he regularly brought you souvenirs back from missions that you weren't assigned to and he always insisted on sitting next to you on the train home, offering you the window seat every single time.

almost as if they can hear your inner monologue being to spiral, shoko pipes up once more. "he gave you a different ring tone so he'd know every time you call."

you feel your heart stop for a second, unsure as to why this in particular made you finally believe their words, but before you even have the opportunity to dismiss them again (now in an attempt to convince yourself more than them) you feel the seat beside you sink with additional weight and a familiar arm flung around your shoulder. you barely even register the smug smile shoko is flashing you from across the table as you focus on attempting to cool your face.

"i can't believe you guys started eating without me!" satoru whines, leaning even more heavily into your side. he makes quick work of plucking a large chunk of meat out of your bento, sending you a sly grin as you look up at him in dismay. "what were you guys talkin' about?"

suguru meets your eyes, raising his eyebrows as he meets your glare, urging him to shut his mouth. "oh nothing." he hums, before completely changing the subject.

the conversation from moments prior is still fresh in your mind, and you're now very aware of the soft glances gojo keeps sending your way. you suddenly feel a lot more awkward in his presence, and you barely notice how you're fidgeting with your hands under the table and not participating in the conversation anymore.

that is until you feel warm hands grip your own, effectively halting their movement. "you okay?" you can barely hear satoru over the blood pumping in your ears, and you're unaware of the laughs shoko and geto are trying desperately to hold back whilst watching the scene as you try to speak.

you start to wish your friends had kept their observations to themselves.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk season 2 #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you

[vivwritesfics]

whoops one bed you and lando (besties to lovers edition)

things had been rough in her life and things had been rough in his career. The start of the season wasn't everything McLaren had promised it would be and it had frustrated him. But he didn't quite understand what was going on in her life.

Still, he wanted to help in any way he could. So he had somebody book a nice little holiday for them, just as friends. Two beds and all that.

A cottage in the countryside was booked for them. The description on the website was very clear about two beds. Lando drove them out there. She controlled the music while he drove (even if he didn't like the music she chose, he wasn't going to complain. He'd never complain about anything she did).

When they got to the cottage the two of them immediately ran to find the two bedrooms.

"I've found the master bedroom," Lando said as he opened the room to find a kingsized bed. He dropped his bag on the floor as Y/N walked past him, trying to find the second bedroom.

It didn't take long until she found the door that probably led to the second bedroom. "Found the second... bedroom."

But, as she opened the door, she realised it wasn't the second bedroom. No, it was simply another door to the master bedroom. "Wait, is this the only one?" She asked as she dropped her own bag.

"Maybe it's two singles pushed together," Lando suggested as he pulled back the blankets. Spoiler alert, it wasn't two single beds pushed together.

Y/N looked up at Lando. "What the hell are we gonna do?"

Before either could say anything more, there was a knock on the cottage door. Y/N left her bag where it was to open the door.

It was a kindly old woman standing at the door. She smiled and stepped into the cottage when Y/N opened the door. "Hello, love," she said with a smile. "How are you finding everything?"

It took Y/N a moment to work out this was the owner of the cottage. "Oh. Oh! Lovely, everything is just lovely," she responded as she tried to match her smile. "But, I thought there was supposed to be more than one bed."

"Yes, we used to have two twin beds in the master bedroom, but since it's mostly couples staying with us for romantic weekends so we swapped it for the king."

As she said it, Lando walked up behind her. "That shouldn't be a problem for young lovers like you," she continued.

Lando swapped his arms around her and placed his head on her shoulder. "That's more than fine," he said.

They said their goodbyes to her and shut the door. "So," Lando began as he turned her towards him. "One bed."

"One bed," she repeated, sucking in a breath. "We can top and tail it."

"And sleep beside your smelly feet? No thanks."

They decided not to think anything of it. It would be fine, they were best friends and they could work through it. This was nothing.

But then they had a few bottles of wine between them.

But then they woke up beside each other, clothes scattered on the floor.

"What the hell happened?" She asked as she shook her head. But then she noticed the dried... stuff on her stomach. "Oh Lando, we didn't. We can't have."

Lando pulled down the blanket and looked between them. "I think we did."

At first things were awkward between the two. They tried to avoid each other at all cost. But in a small cottage where their only company was each other, it was pretty hard.

After two days of avoiding each other, they caved and slept together again. This time the alcohol wasn't influencing them. This time it was natural. The time after that as well. Fuck, they couldn't keep away from each other.

By the time summer break ended and they returned to Formula One, they were basically in love. They walked through the paddock together, like they always did. "I got to go for a meeting," he said and grabbed her hand, pulling her in for a kiss before he left.

"When did that happen?" Asked Oscar as they walked together.

Lando just shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader

[cassie48]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗵𝗱𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗳𝗲

Dark! Paul Atreides x fem crybaby!Reader

Where in the midst of a crowd, you, the Mahdis wife, get shoved by accident, and Paul isn’t so happy about that.

𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ට

Paul usually didn’t let you out of his sight, he knew better. It always ended up badly, someone would hurt you, or hurt your feelings, and you’d cry. Like you always did.

But you had 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 him to go for a walk with your friends. Fremen friends that you had known longer than you’d known him. He had only met you two years ago. But once he met you, he claimed he’s had visions of your pretty face, standing in the desert, smiling at him with your gorgeous smile.

He claimed you were to be 𝘏𝘪𝘴. So he married you mere days after you’d met. Stilgar having no problems with it as apparently it was in the prophecy, also known as Stilgars obsession.

You wanted to marry him though, you felt connected to him. There’s wasn’t many people that had put up with your emotional personality, but oh how he 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 it. He loved seeing tears in your eyes as you’d cling to him, burying your small face in his chest, how minor things he’d do for you made you emotional, and most of all how you relied on him to make you feel better.

So that’s why you barely went anywhere without him, it was really just easier for everyone. All the Fremen held huge respect for you as you were the wife of their messiah. No one 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 to merely touch you.

So on this particular day, you had begged your husband to let you go with your friends for a few hours. Inside the ancient temple of your sietch, all your people would gather and celebrate. It was an annual day. Celebrating your cultures and beliefs.

Crowds would gather and people would mingle, meeting and seeing friends. It was just an all round fun day. But this one wasn’t.

It had started off quite well. Paul allowed you to meet your friends for an hour or so, making you promise you’d meet him at home later on. You gladly did, kissing his cheek and leaving to see your friends.

Once you did, you and your friends gathered talking and dancing for what felt like forever. After a while you knew you probably should leave to meet your husband.

Paul had joined the celebrations, as he was their mahdi. He had been watching you for a while, making sure you were alright. When he saw you making your way through the crowds he began to walk too, so he’d meet you halfway.

The crowds were pushy, 𝘛𝘰𝘰 pushy for you clearly, as you took a step but we’re roughly shoved by a man on your right. You went flying face first onto the ground, hitting your head when your did.

The man turned to yell at you

“Watch it you- Oh my lady, I-I apologise deeply!” He yelled, not realising it was you. He was a dead man and he knew it.

Mad if he wasn’t already 6 foot under from his actions, to top it off completely, you began to cry, actually you began to ball your eyes out.

The entire sietch became quiet. Many around you quickly tried to help you up, but you were having none of it, and if anything it made you cry harder. The man that knocked you began to shake in fear as he saw Paul make his way to the scene.

The people had never seen their Mahdi with such a hateful and raged look. He shoved passed people in the cowds to get to you. Once he did he bent down to your bleeding face, wiping your blood and tears before picking you up in his arms, giving one last glance to the man that had caused your accident.

“Make sure he waits outside my tent” he growled to three Fremen on his left, before swiftly turning and leaving with you in his arms.

You cried the entire way back to your tent, clinging onto your husband as your face stung. Once you two arrived, he put you into bed, sitting down beside your lying form.

“You must stop crying my love, it’s alright now” Paul said kissing your forehead gently, wiping stray tears on your cheeks.

“Don’t waste them” he muttered.

You did as he said, but still slight hiccups every few minutes remains. “My head hurts” you whispered with an unhappy look on your face.

“This is why I don’t like you out of my reach” he told you, tucking you under the sheets.

“I know Paul, I’m sorry” she said holding back tears at the thoughts of upsetting him.

He smiled at you tenderly, before giving you a gentle kiss, and letting you fall asleep in bed.

He angrily turned towards the tents exit. He took the man waiting outside fearfully in his arms, dragging him away from your sleeping form.

Once he was out of hearing distance from you, Paul shoved the man onto the ground. Taking out a knife, and placing it at his neck.

“How dare you harm hug wife” Paul yelled.

“Mahdi I- it was an accident!” He said almost crying.

“It don’t care. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦, harms her, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.” He yelled, before yanking the knife away from his neck, giving him a tiny knife before plunging the knife into the man’s side, and getting up and walking back to you.

Many Fremen watched, not daring to say anything. They knew better. They knew what he was like when it came to you.

Paul made his way back to your drowsy form, half asleep in your bed. “Paul you whispered” with a pouty look.

He got into the bed beside you, taking you into his strong hold, kissing your neck. “Sleep now sweetheart” he told you, and of course, you complied.

⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ට

Just wanted to write something small, I know it’s not much ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

#paul atreides #mahdi #paul atredies x reader #dune part two #dune x reader #feyd rautha #arrakis #zendaya #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #fanfiction #sci fi and fantasy #dune movie

[lundenloves]

bro ik simon buys his daughter some silly ass shit on missions😭 like he will buy her a mug ( a mug, FOR A BABY. ) titled: "worlds best daughter and dad duo" .. wont even let the reader hold their kid as long as hes some n shit.. just pls dad!simon hcs PLS

you ask and you shall receive anon. here are the current thoughts swooshing around in my messy brain right now. 🪄

dad!simon masterlist | hc 2

my god definitely tho.

He’s the definition of girldad. To a T. Like, when she’s younger and he’s still new to the whole thing it’s all scary but once he’s past that and realises it’s literally just a tiny person. It’s over for everyone around him.

That little girl is worth crushing skulls for fr.

Waking up in the middle of the night to baby cries was something he took in stride. The first few times definitely scared the shit out of him and he wanted to wake you up. But then again, realising that it was just a tiny person. He would get up and probably fall asleep on the sofa with her instead of taking her back to the cot.

Not that he would admit it but he felt way more relaxed with her sleeping on his chest.

Shirtless.

SKIN. TO. SKIN.

When she gets older, she starts asking questions about him and his job and all the ‘why’ follow ups. We’re talking ages 7-9 here.

“Why wear skull stuff if you’re called Ghost?”

“It’s a callsign.”

“What’s a callsign?”

“A nickname.”

“Why?”

Literally his mini-me though. She follows him everywhere. All around the house, upstairs downstairs, outside inside. EVERYWHERE. He never grows tired of it though. Always entertaining the questions.

“Do you have a name?”

“Yes. I have a name.”

Then telling her it and she goes onto call him Simon for three days straight before moving onto another source of entertainment.

She draws pictures of 141. Penning a little version of herself in the middle of the men, a big arrow pointing to each of them labelled by their names spelt wrong. Sop. Pris.

Soap draws pictures back stfu.

Definitely the type of relationship with his daughter where they’re close until she becomes interested in boys and her dad is suddenly embarrassing lmaoooo.

Johnny is actually the embarrassing uncle.

Her first boyfriend my days.

I know by this point, he has another daughter. No one can convince me otherwise. He has a minimum of two.

“She’s gonna see her boyfriend.” The younger one would sing and Simon is right onto that shit. Dad stance n’ all.

“What age is he?” First question.

“Dad.”

LeaveTheDoorOpen™️

His kids don’t actually know what he works as. It’s like, no one knows exactly what their dad does. SAS shit or smth.

For forms, he just waves a hand of dismissal and is like, “Just say i’m in the army.”

“Are you in the army?”

“No.” this mf

Having two daughters definitely be teaching him a lot. Like periods. He never took them seriously until he was being barked at for the seventeenth time in one day, deciding in that moment to understand.

Also the designated bag holder and credit card user on shopping trips.

Dilf.

this is short but i’m writing a huge smut for him rn don’t tell anyone. you. yes, you.

taglist? click this link to complete the form.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw2

[strawberry-cowmilk]

the brothers when they realise mc will die one day

-> brothers x mc

a/n: it's been a good minute since I wrote actual ultimate painful angst so here you go while I wait for my hot makeup sponge soap soup to help me clean the things

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: angst, death, crying, sports injury

-----

Lucifer

he was peacefully listening to a new record he got with you next to him

lucifer was a great fan of this certain composer so he started to talk a little about the music and the meaning behind it

'the composer wrote this piece for their deceased partner-' he suddenly went quiet once he realised he will be like the composer one day

you had already fallen asleep to hear what he said, lucifer carefully pressed you close, afraid of waking you up and afraid of the day you'll leave him

Mammon

mammon was very bored since lucifer took away his card as a punishment, so he decided to watch tv

he was just browsing the channels and ended up watching the news

mammon was already upset about not having his card, and all the depressing stuff on the news made him more sad, and one certain report hit him with the reality that humans die way before demons

tears stung at his eyes as he instantly called you, asking where you are and if you're willing to cuddle him

Leviathan

he got a new game off of akuzon and you're playing it together

it just happens that you're absolutely terrible at this game so you keep dying every two minutes

it was funny at first, you and levi were laughing about it until he suddenly went quiet and started crying

before you could ask him what happened he hugged you and started begging you to not die for real

it took some while for him to calm down a little, you're his (only) friend, how will he live without you?

Satan

he was working on a group rad project with solomon, eventually he started talking about how he accidentally made himself immortal

eventually satan demanded to know how he did it, and he was pretty angrily asking too, during the conversation he realised you are not immortal (unlike solomon)

the prof literally had to separate them because satan was getting too angry

satan wasted no time, he went to look for you so he can spend time with you and forget his awful thoughts

Asmodeus

there was some fashion week event in the devildom and some high fashion brand asked asmo to model for them (he accepted)

but on the day of the event, it got cancelled

asmo was not pleased with this, but you told him it's ok and you can watch him on the catwalk next time he gets invited, but the thing is that probably won't be until another 500 years-

he realised there's a very good chance you won't be alive for the next time, he cried and clung to you, denying reality

Beelzebub

beel was playing the finals of his fangol game and things were getting very serious, there were players getting tackled left and right pretty badly

his mind started to drift away from the game for a while, and remembered that time you asked him to play with you

but if you, a human, were on this field, you'd probably get badly injured, or worse

the coach had to get a time out because the team's got beel literally crying his eyes out on the bench

the team won, but beel is not in the mood for celebrating

Belphegor

it just randomly hit him

he was looking at the stars next to you in the planetarium and something about the stars today made him think about everything, and eventually the fact that humans don't live long compared to demons

he turned to you, said something along the lines of 'don't go' and curled up against you, falling asleep

belphie needed to give himself a good dream right now otherwise he feels like he won't be able to handle it now

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me scenarios #obey me swd #obey me imagines #obey me angst #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #asmodeus obey me #beelzebub obey me #belphegor obey me #gn!mc #tw death #tw injury

[nyrandrea]

Everything's Fine

As you try to deal with everything that has been thrown at you so early into your journey: forced leadership, mindflayer tadpoles and taking on everybody's personal problems, it all just gets a bit too much for you.

(Takes place during Act 1)

Word Count - 3.5k

Also available to read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

xxx

You felt your patience starting to wear incredibly thin when you realised Astarion had been staring at you for over five minutes now. 

Not directly, he would never be so conspicuous—at least, not intentionally— but you kept catching those fleeting glances he was throwing your way; the corners of his red eyes crinkling every so often before returning to whatever book he was pretending to read. It wasn’t one of those charming, smouldering gazes he would sometimes give you after a night of feeding, asking if you were alright, knowing full-well that your answer was a resounding ‘I’m fine’, and that you would provide for him again soon. 

No, what he was doing right now—very carefully—was scanning you, studying you,  judging you. It was as if he was trying to leer right through to your very soul. 

You almost had half a mind to stomp over to his tent and demand what his problem was, but there were other unfortunate issues to contend with. 

Namely Shadowheart and Lae'zel. 

“I already told you that the artefact is my responsibility,” Shadowheart said, her aloof demeanour and confident tone betrayed by the hand hovering over the hilt of her dagger. “This way it will protect us all, I thought we had already established that!” 

“We have established nothing,” Lae’zel hissed back. “We only agreed not to slit each other’s throats in the night, though...,” she grimaced. “I still have no reason to trust that you will not try again.” 

“At least there’s still some sense in that bullish head of yours.” 

“Tsk!” Lae’zel spat at Shadowheart’s feet, much to the latter’s disgust as she recoiled back. “However, the matter still stands that the relic you hold onto belongs to my people. Therefore, it should be in my possession!” 

The cleric sneered. “I would sooner slit my own throat.” 

“Then go right ahead. Nobody will stop you.” 

Rubbing at your temples to try and ease the incoming migraine that, for once, was not caused by the mindflayer parasite living rent-free in your head, you decided to step in-between the two women, not really caring about risking a gutting from their trigger-happy blades. 

“C’mon, we’re not seriously having this fight again?” You huff incredulously, the question already sounding stupid as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course they were having this fight again. They had it yesterday, and the day before that, and they were probably going to have it tomorrow as well. 

“We are, as it happens,” Shadowheart replied, her eyes flickering briefly to you before narrowing forward again. “Because this savage bitch won’t leave me alone!” 

Lae’zel bared her teeth in a cruel grin. “Better to be that than a revrykal of Shar.” 

At the mention of her Goddess’s name, Shadowheart practically lunged herself towards Lae’zel with an enraged scream, her dagger raised high with the intention of plunging it straight into the githyanki’s chest, who in turn raised her shield to protect herself. In that moment, you were nothing to them but a speck of dust in the wind. 

It wasn’t until your hand shot up in a blind panic when Shadowheart realised what she was doing, forcing her to suddenly pull back to avoid injuring you, only a moment too late as her knife slashed the palm of your hand. Blood sprayed across the ground as your short but pained cry echoed throughout the camp. 

“Oh Gods...” Shadowheart muttered as everyone was suddenly on their feet and crowded around the three of you in a matter of moments. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t... mean to...!” 

“What? Attempt to kill our leader in cold blood?” Lae’zel muttered as she took your trembling hand to examine it, you only stared ahead as the shock took a moment to wear off. You didn’t even register her uncharacteristically gentle touch as she turned your palm up. “Only a flesh wound, you will live.” 

“Still,” Astarion piped up from behind. “Perhaps it would be best to get that dressed up lest you attract any...*ahem* unsavoury visitors.” 

“It would seem we already have,” Lae’zel replied, to which the vampire put a hand up to his chest in mock offence. 

“Lae’zel, you depreciate me,” he pouted. “I’m hurt.” 

Astarion’s sudden cold grasp on your wrist startled you as he decided to examine the cut himself in a much less gentle manner than Lae’zel. “Not that I would be able to get much from this anyway, even if I tried.” 

You were slightly worried that he was pondering the idea the longer he stared at the wound; you could practically see him drooling. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he snapped out of his daze. 

“Well, we should probably get this cleaned up anyhow,” he finally said. “To avoid infection and whatnot.” 

“...You’re not gonna lick it clean, are you?” Karlach asked with a grimace. 

“Of course not!” Astarion bit back, much more flustered this time. “I’m not some savage beast, you know.” 

“That’s... debatable,” Gale piped in. 

“Well! It’s lovely to know that you all think so little of me; the feeling is very much mutual,” Astarion said with a fake smile before taking you by the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ll have to nurse this poor wounded soul, as well as my pride.” 

He started guiding you away from the rest of the group, you only allowed him to because the whole situation had you in a bit of a daze, but not before Shadowheart tried to get in another “I’m... I’m sorry.” 

“It’s... I’m fine,” you replied with whatever level of composure you could muster up with a smile in a small attempt to reassure her before allowing yourself to be led towards Astarion’s tent. Your words seemed to satisfy her as Shadowheart returned a sorrowful but grateful nod, though her expression turned sour when Karlach stepped between her and Lae’zel. 

“Alright now, ladies, what do you two say we let out our pent-up aggression towards each other in a healthier and less murder-y way, huh?” The tiefling suggested before holding up her finger to not let the other two get a word in edgewise. “And before you ask, I will not be taking no for an answer.” 

A small smile graced your lips at Karlach’s enthusiastic yet surprisingly pragmatic way of taking charge, and it seemed to be working as Shadowheart and—to your utter astonishment—Lae’zel agreed to whatever training regimen she had in store for them.  

‘Perhaps Karlach should take over as leader...’  

The idea was extinguished as soon as it had entered your mind, replaced with thoughts of the tiefling messing everything up, of her killing you in your sleep, that you shouldn’t trust her to lead your party. The only one who should have any authority over these subordinates is you. Only you are worthy. 

The voice quieted down after a few moments, leaving you only with a pounding head—just another one of the many wonderful side-effects of the parasite. 

You didn’t take any heed of whatever thoughts the tadpole forced upon you. You knew that Karlach would never hurt you, or any of the others for that matter—not by choice, anyway. However, those flashes of betrayal and blood were starting to wear you down a bit, especially with the lack of sleep; the very notion of it had been non-existent since you escaped the nautiloid and accepted the leadership that everyone had practically forced upon you. 

You weren’t exactly a natural-born leader; hell, you barely managed to keep yourself alive never mind a whole group of people. 

“That’s going to need stitches,” Astarion said as he observed your hand more closely now that the two of you were in the privacy of his tent. Heat flushed around your cheeks at how close the two of you were. Flashes of that night you had shared a bed—or well, the forest floor—came to mind, and you hated how flustered it made you. It was a one-night stand, a bit of fun to ease the stress of adventuring; clearly it meant nothing. At least... that was what you were made to feel. 

What had been a night of passion for you, had been the same old dance for him. 

“Take a seat there,” Astarion’s said, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a knife. “I should have a needle around here, somewhere.” 

“You know how to sew?” You asked, settling down on a cushioned stool. 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, and a sting of guilt surged in your chest. “How do you think I’ve kept these clothes looking so good for over two hundred years? Certainly not by magic.” 

“Why not just buy new clothes?” 

Your prodding seemed to hit a nerve as he paused for a moment. 

“Why waste the coin?” He finally replied, sounding a little dejected. 

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip as you tried to think of a way to quickly rectify your carelessness. “You do look great, by the way—y-your clothes, I mean,” embarrassment takes over as you trip over your own words. “The gold embroidery is um *cough * it’s nice.” 

Astarion seems amused at your inability to grasp basic English as he chuckles, the sound deep and almost musical. “Why thank you, darling. I’m glad someone around here appreciates the finer details.” 

The vampire kneels next to you and threads the needle before gesturing for you to hold out your hand. “It has been a while so... let’s just hope I’m not too rusty, hm?” 

Those words don’t instil a great deal of confidence within you, but you won’t allow it to show, trusting in him to get the job done. If you ended up getting sepsis, well... Withers was always on stand-by. 

“Now, hold still,” Astarion instructed. “This may sting a little.” 

You nodded, only wincing a little when he made the first stitch, the pain became more bearable as you watched him focus with the kind of laser-like precision that only came with a practiced hand; it made you wonder how many times he had done this. His methodical movements almost lulled you into a sort of relaxed trance, had your mind have not been working overtime, you honestly might have fallen asleep: Gods know you could have done with a bit of shut eye. 

Ever since the ship crashed, your problems just seemed to keep piling on top of each other: Lae’zel was hellbent on getting to that githyanki creche, and there was the matter of Karlach’s engine, Gale was close to blowing to kingdom-come if he didn’t get another magical item to consume soon, Astarion would probably need another feeding at some point, not to mention the dog, Scratch, and the owlbear cub who had started hanging around the camp. A dog was one thing but how much did owlbears need to eat?  

It was fine, you reassured yourself. Everything would be fine. 

“There we go,” Astarion said, relinquishing your hand back, freshly stitched and cleaned. The pain was still there, dull and throbbing, but it wasn’t anything a quick healing spell couldn’t fix. 

“Not my best work but it will just have to do for now,” he huffs, as if he was annoyed with himself. “You’ll have to excuse the sloppy stitching, it’s... been a while.” 

“It’s beautiful work,” you can’t help but admire the stitching; it was flawless. “Thank you, Astarion.” 

His gaze remains on you for a moment, as if he were expecting some sort of quip or punchline, and his eyes widen slightly when he realises you’re being genuine. 

“I... uh... you...?” He pauses and squints; still nothing. “You are... most certainly welcome.” 

You raise an eyebrow; did he really think so lowly of you that he believed you simply weren’t capable of a simple 'thank you'? Or was it himself that he had no confidence in? Your thoughts turn to when you asked him about how he came about becoming a vampire. Astarion kept most of his history closed off from you but told you just enough to let you know that this ‘Cazador’ fellow had treated him poorly. Belittled him. Enslaved him. 

You couldn’t begin to imagine how horrible it must have been; no wonder he didn’t trust anyone. 

A part of you wanted to pry into his thoughts, to let him know that you were here for him should he ever want to talk, but a new figure entered the tent, startling you into closing your mouth. 

“Hello!” Gale cheerily greeted with a smile, his eyes latching onto you immediately. “How are we feeling?” 

“Oh, we’re feeling quite dandy, thank you,” Astarion interjected with a frown. “You didn’t think to knock before deciding just to barge in?” 

“Well, given the materialistic structure of this very sound establishment, I think you’ll find it’s a little difficult to uh...” Gale trailed off, attempting to rap the tent flap to no avail. “...knock on.” 

“Then why not just knock on the wooden beams with that...” The vampire waved lazily towards Gale’s staff. “Very large stick of yours.” 

“Duly noted, but I think we’re getting a bit off track here,” the wizard said before turning to you. “I need a word.” 

You were taken aback slightly by his bluntness, and you couldn’t help but notice the almost pained way he was wringing his hands and how his eyebrows subtly twitched. He looked incredibly... uncomfortable. 

His hand hovered over his chest briefly, just above the mark that glowed whenever he consumed magic. 

Shit. Was it that time already? But hadn’t you given him something only yesterday? Or had it been a few days now? With recent events, it was hard to keep track of the time anymore; day and night just meshed into one big messy blur. 

Judging by your panicked look, Gale held up his hands in a placating manner. “Now, I know you’ve had a lot on your plate recently but this little uh... situation of mine is growing quite dire again so... if you could just relinquish whatever magical artefact you have, then all will be fine and dandy.” 

“I... don’t have anything on me at the moment.” 

Gale’s expression dropped. “Come now, you must have picked up something along the way, surely?” 

You grimaced. 

“In a dungeon? Along the road? What about that little goblin camp you rampaged through recently?” 

His sudden passive-aggressiveness made you feel uneasy. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Astarion cut in, folding his arms. “But we were a bit preoccupied with fighting for our lives to be on the lookout for any magic boots for you to chew on.” 

Gale chuckled dryly and drew the vampire a dirty look. “I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of what might very well happen if I don’t find something to contain the beast within me very soon- “ 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, darling.” 

“This isn’t a joking matter!” 

“Ugh! Just shut up!” You snapped. “I do get it, Gale. Because you remind me Every. Damn. Day. About this big, scary, mystery catastrophe that might happen without actually explaining anything about it! A bit of context would go a long way!” 

Gale’s hurt wince suddenly had your stomach churning in guilt; you shouldn’t be snapping at people; you were better than that. 

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologised. “As soon as we’re out on the road again, I’ll make it our priority to look for an artefact for you, alright? You have my word.” 

Astarion scowled and Gale forced a smile; his lips too strained for it to be genuine. It seemed like you couldn’t please anyone today. 

“That’s all I can ask for, and I promise... all will be revealed soon, otherwise the tadpoles will be the least of our worries.” 

When Gale left, you plopped down to the ground and took ragged breaths to calm your nerves, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt as you nestled your injured hand in your lap. Had Gale only checked in on you so he could ask you for a magic item in return? Was he really that desperate? He must have been, seeing as you had completely forgotten about his predicament. 

What kind of leader were you? 

“You know, you can’t go making promises all willy-nilly like that,” Astarion said. “We have enough problems as it is without having to worry about...” 

His chastising faded into white noise as you grasped your head, the sting of your fingers curling and tugging through unkempt hair was just enough to distract from the pounding that came from within your brain. The ability to focus was suddenly lost to you as your heart raced, and dark emotions swirled within your chest like a wild tornado; it was tempting to let them sweep you away, to ride the waves into the unknown. To be anywhere but here without anyone depending on you for so, so much.  

“Hello?” Astarion drawled. “Are you even listening to- Darling...?” 

He moved closer to you; his steps measured and deliberate as he lowered himself down next to you, still allowing you enough space while being close enough to reach out a hand to your trembling shoulder, his touch cold yet oddly comforting. 

“Hey,” he spoke in a soothing, soft tone, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with unwavering support. “I’m right here with you, you’re safe, just breathe along with me, alright?” 

You nodded, albeit shakily, and tried to mirror his calm, measured breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, attempting to regain control over your racing heart. 

Astarion’s voice never wavered as your frantic gasps slowly started to synchronise with his calm breathing. “I know things are tough right now, but these feelings will soon pass. You’re stronger than you think, darling.” 

He continued to gently rub your back, tracing comforting circles with his fingertips, a rhythm that matched the cadence of your breath. Your hands slowly unlatched from your hair as you felt Astarion’s reassuring presence and honeyed words grounding you. 

“There we go, you’re regaining control,” he encouraged softly. “Now, I’m going to get you a glass of water, will you be alright for a moment?” 

You nodded again, and with a quick squeeze of your shoulder, he left. As your panic attack started to ebb, your breathing evened and your heart slowed as you felt yourself returning to the present moment, the tension that had your body rigid starting to ease. 

Astarion was back by your side within moments, gently pushing a glass into your hand and helping you lift it to your lips for a small sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. 

“How do you feel?” 

“I’m-” 

“And don’t you dare say ‘I’m fine’,” he scowled. "Because we both know you’re clearly not.” 

You racked your brain to try and find a way to explain that you were okay and that this was just a small moment of weakness, a blip in the road, that there was nothing to worry about and you had it all figured out. 

But the words never came, instead you draw your knees up and hug them close to your chest as if to hide away from his piercing gaze. 

Astarion lingers by your side for a moment, his expression unreadable. 

“Would you like to stay in here for a while?” 

Unable to find the energy to speak, you simply nod. 

“Then come on, scooch over.” 

As you shuffle slightly to the side, Astarion sits down next to you, draping an arm over your shoulder and allowing you to settle your head into his side and cling to his shirt in a way that a child might cling to their mother. 

“...I’m sorry." 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Astarion’s expression soften as he waved a nonchalant hand. “Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, dear. If anything, I should be the one apologising, who knew being in my mere presence would be so breathtaking?” 

You managed a small chuckle at that. 

“But in all seriousness,” he continued. “I know a thing or two about putting on a façade and... well...,” he paused. “Just... know that if you ever want to talk, I’m all pointy ears.” 

You hum in acknowledgement, though you can tell by his undertone that he’s being disingenuous, kindness wasn’t exactly his forte after all, but you appreciated the attempt all the same. But you were just content to sit in his arms for a while, and he seemed pleased enough with the silence. So, for now, you inhale the comforting aroma of bergamot, rosemary and brandy, letting yourself get lost in his comforting presence. 

And exhale. 

xxx

Hellooooo Baldur's Gate 3 has me in a chokehold and the brainrot is real. I'm only in Act 1 hence why this fic takes place so early in the game but this idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. Apologies for any inconsistencies :'3 Let me know what y'all think!

*Edit - since this has been pretty well received, I've opened up requests! Pop me an ask if you would like one :)

#astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #my writing #tw panic attack

[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

[huggingkoalas]

is this hatred? or love? part 1

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis what happens when you have to share a bed with your enemy?

word count 2.9k

warnings fluff, teasing, gunshot wound, reader’s injured, pet names (sweetheart, love), one bed trope, enemies to lovers, they’re both so in denial it makes me want to bang my head against the wall

author’s note haven’t had the time to write in a long time. i honestly had a lot of fun writing this, natasha being the most annoying fucking tease is the biggest headcannon to me <3

navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me

“Need a hand, dorogaya (sweetheart)?”

“Shut up, Romanoff.”

“If you say so.”

With your dominant hand pressed firmly against your wounded abdomen to stem the bleeding, your other hand trembled as it swiped the card through the reader. Natasha leaned her back casually against the adjacent wall, her boredom thinly veiled by a feigned yawn as the reader emitted its third ‘beep’ of rejection due to your insufficient force.

“We’ll be here all day. Aren’t you supposed to have super soldier serum in your blood?” 

“I said shut up.”

With an exasperated scoff, Natasha snatched the card out of your hand. She forcefully swiped it through the reader, the satisfying click of the door unlocking echoing in the corridor. As the door swung open to reveal the dimly lit motel room, Natasha couldn’t help but grin smugly.

“See? Easy as pie.”

You grunted in response, carefully adjusting your stance to maintain pressure on your wound. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, love.” She replied breezily. 

With a nod of appreciation, you stepped through the doorway, a wave of relief washing over you, although the throbbing pain in your abdomen dampened it. Natasha followed suit, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked past you, her demeanour shifting subtly from teasing to attentive as she scanned the room. Once she familiarised herself with the layout and window exits, she turned back to you, nodding her head to give you the all-clear.

The room looked ordinary like any other hostel room, with neutral-toned walls and simple furnishings. A small table sat in one corner, adorned with a lamp and a few scattered brochures. Across the room, a worn-out armchair stood next to a narrow window, its curtains drawn shut to block the dim city lights. On the opposite wall, a modest dresser provided limited storage space, its drawers slightly ajar. Despite its lack of luxury, the room emanated a sense of comfort. As you looked around the unremarkable surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude for the simple shelter it provided.

While you were busy surveying the room, Natasha’s attention was on your injured abdomen, a subtle flash of concern in her eyes. The sight of the fresh blood staining your shirt in the brief moments it took to open the door tugged at her heartstrings, even if she would never admit it to you.

“How bad is the wound?” She inquired, pointing a finger towards your abdomen.

You glanced down, noting the slight redness seeping through the fabric and onto your shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t have this wound if someone realised that a HYDRA agent was aiming at them.” You retorted.

Natasha smirked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault they can’t resist taking a shot at me, I’m irresistible.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle despite the ache in your side. “Irresistible, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Of course.” She shrugged casually, giving you a knowing look. “I honestly think we both attract trouble wherever we go. It's probably the only reason Fury paired the two of the biggest troublemakers on this mission, right? He’s probably having the best day of his life without having to deal with us constantly being at each other’s throats.”

You smirked, acknowledging the truth in her words. “Seems like Fury knows what he’s doing after all.”

 “Well, I’d like to think he’s getting some entertainment out of it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Entertainment? More like a headache.”

Her smirk softened into a faint smile as she shook her head. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you still.”

“Likewise, Romanoff. Just because we’re being all buddy-buddy right now doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Good. Wouldn’t want things to get too sentimental, partner.”

You knew that the word ‘partner’ was dripping with teasing and sarcasm. The two of you were anything but cooperative with each other. You both frequently exchanged biting remarks, teasing, and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to make her despise you so much. You were nice to her when you joined the Avengers all those years ago, but it always seemed that she harboured a deep dislike for you. When you spoke up in a team meeting, she would scowl and you could always feel her gaze burning a hole in your skull.

In the beginning, you tried to get along with her and be as friendly to her as you were to everyone else. From offering her assistance during training or helping her with her mission reports, nothing you did ever seemed to break the coldness and distance in her heart. You knew she wasn’t the most extroverted person, but you never saw her act that way towards others. Eventually, you gave up and decided it was best to ignore her, just as she had ignored you. 

Of course, once you started ignoring her too, Natasha’s behaviour changed. She started teasing and taunting you, finding ways to provoke a reaction from you even when you tried to ignore her. And she kept winning. Her incessant teasing had a way of getting under your skin. It was a frustrating cycle of provocation and reaction. You felt like you were constantly on edge whenever she was around. 

But reluctantly, you couldn’t deny that everything had changed during the mission an hour ago. Despite the heated tensions, you both had an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s backs in battle.

As the weight of the moment settled on you, Natasha’s gaze softened, and her concern for your well-being was evident in the depths of her eyes. “But seriously,” she said, her tone changing to genuine concern, “let me help you tend to that wound before it gets infected.”

You shook your head slightly. “It’s okay, I can take care of it myself.”

Her expression tightened slightly, her concern unwavering. “Stubborn as always,” she muttered under her breath.

You met her gaze with a steely resolve. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve handled worse.”

Her lips formed a thin line, showing her frustration. "Think of it as a way of repaying you for helping me.” She insisted, her voice firm.

You knew she wouldn’t give the matter up. The both of you were equally as stubborn as a mule. “Fine.” You relented, offering a nod. 

“Great,” Natasha replied, a hint of relief in her tone. “To the bathroom then. I’m sure this motel room has a first aid kit somewhere…”

You and Natasha made your way to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing yours. Silently, you took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat. You leaned back against the toilet’s tank, the cool porcelain surface offering a brief respite from the tension in your muscles. She wasted no time in retrieving the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and moving towards you. 

“Take off your shirt,” She instructed, settling the first aid kit on the tiled floor.

Your brows furrowed in surprise at her directive. “W-What?” You stammered, looking down at her with an incredulous look.

Natasha rolled her eyes at your surprise, her patience wearing thin. “Come on, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she chided, her tone tinged with exasperation. “I can’t clean your wound if you have your shirt on.”

Reluctantly, you began to peel off your shirt cautiously. Each inch revealed the angry red gunshot wound beneath, eliciting a whine as the fabric grazed against your wound. At least you were lucky that the bullet passed through instead of staying inside your body. As more of your skin came into view, Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her normally composed demeanour. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the sight of your exposed skin stirred something within her, igniting a warmth that she couldn’t quite suppress. Quickly, she averted her gaze, busying herself with preparing the first aid supplies. Though she tried to hide it, the flush on her cheeks lingered.

As you finally removed your shirt, Natasha’s expression softened even further. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself for me. It was incredibly stupid, though.” She murmured, her voice softer now.

“It’s alright, Romanoff.”

“You can call me Natasha, you know. You’re the only one in the team that still calls me by my last name.”

“Alright, Natasha.” Your lips twitched into a small, appreciative smile. 

In a comfortable silence, Natasha began to carefully clean the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, her touch gentle yet precise. The warmth of her fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. As she worked, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the focused expression on her face.

Natasha’s brows furrowed as she delicately dabbed at the wound, her lips forming a thin line. Now and then, she would scrunch her nose up, a small, endearing gesture that softened her usual stoic expression. Despite the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sight of her.

Once the wound was cleaned and dressed, her gaze met yours with a sense of satisfaction. “There,” she said softly, relief in her voice. “All done.”

You offered her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

A small, genuine smile curved Natasha’s lips as she met your gaze. “Anytime, dorogaya (sweetheart).”

As she rose to her feet, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You were well-acquainted with Natasha’s tendency to use nicknames on you, especially ‘dorogaya’, but it was typically wielded with a teasing edge. This time, however, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual teasing tone. Instead, it carried a genuine warmth that caught you off guard.

“Uh…” You stammered, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the unexpectedly sincere endearment. Clearing your throat, you tried to push aside the fluttering in your chest.

Her smile widened at your reaction. “Nervous, are we?”

“Shut up, Natasha.” 

She chuckled softly at your retort, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

With a shake of her head, Natasha reached down to offer you a hand. “Come on, let’s get you back on your feet,” she said.

You hesitated for a moment, touched by her gesture, before placing your hand in hers. With a steady grip, she helped you to your feet. She moved to the doorway before looking at you over her shoulder. “I’ll let you shower first. Try not to get water on the dressing.”

“Got it.”

With a final nod of acknowledgement, Natasha closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bathroom. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you slipped off the rest of your clothes and placed them in a pile with your soiled shirt. A sense of relief washed over you at the prospect of washing away the grime of the day’s events. You turned on the water, allowing the warm cascade to envelop you as you stepped beneath the stream. Despite the lingering ache in your abdomen, the sensation of the water against your skin was soothing, easing the aching tension that had settled in your muscles.

As you stood beneath the spray, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that led to this moment. Fury had sent you and Natasha on what was supposed to be a routine mission, but as these things often went, it spiralled into chaos. The intel given was faulty, the security stronger than anticipated, and you were in over your heads before you knew it. It was a mission gone wrong, one of those rare instances where even the most meticulous planning couldn’t prevent disaster.

In the aftermath of the debacle, with your injuries sustained and the mission being held in another country, there was no choice but to seek refuge in a motel room for a night before a Quinjet could transport you back to the Avengers Compound. Fury had booked a motel room for you and Natasha, a nondescript haven tucked away from prying eyes. It was a humble accommodation, far removed from the luxuries of the Compound, but at least it provided a temporary sanctuary where you could tend to your wounds without drawing unwanted attention.

As you stood beneath the shower’s warm spray, the mission’s events were still fresh and raw as they replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. The close calls, the split-second decisions, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. And yet, despite the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant — Natasha fighting with you side-by-side.

You couldn’t help but marvel at Natasha’s resilience. Her determination even in the face of overwhelming odds. She had saved your life more times than you could count, her skills as an assassin matched only by her unwavering loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. 

However, this time was different. During the mission, the roles had been reversed. In a moment of instinct, you had thrown yourself between Natasha and the gun aimed in her direction, putting your own life on the line to protect hers. The only reason you could think of for making a reckless decision like that was that simple —  you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Natasha, even if you hated her with your whole heart. There was no hesitation as you acted on pure instinct, driven by a need to protect her.

As the warm water washed away the physical remnants of the mission, you emerged from the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the steam-filled air gave way to the coolness of the room. 

Immediately, your gaze was drawn to Natasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of surprise as she took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the intensity of her gaze, prompting you to tighten the towel around yourself in a subconscious attempt to shield your modesty.

Finally, Natasha broke the silence. “Sorry for staring. I.. uh-” She faltered for a moment, her words trailing off as she cleared her throat, seemingly struggling to find the right thing to say. “We have a problem. There’s only one bed.” 

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. You looked down at the singular bed Natasha was sitting on. You couldn’t help but feel a flush of embarrassment colour your cheeks. The prospect of sharing a bed with Natasha added a whole new layer of complexity to your already complicated relationship with her.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Natasha suggested, standing up.

You felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be fair for her to sacrifice her comfort for your sake.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You interjected quickly. “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.”

Natasha crossed her arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not being ridiculous. You’re the one that’s injured, you should get the bed instead.”

You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern but I really can’t let you sleep on the floor. We’re both equally exhausted from the mission and besides, you need a good night’s rest too.”

Natasha’s expression softened, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor either,” she countered, her voice firm.

You sighed, realizing that neither of you would easily back down from this standoff. “Alright, how about this,” you proposed. “We share the bed. It’s really small, so we’ll have to sleep pressed up against each other, but at least neither of us has to sleep uncomfortably.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, considering your offer. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening with concern.

“I’m sure.” You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Go take a shower. You smell.”

She chuckled softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, relieved that the tension between you had dissipated, at least for now. Sharing a bed with her was certainly going to be an… interesting experience.

You reached for the bag you had dropped near the doorway and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself. As you settled into bed, you heard the door open as Natasha emerged from the bathroom. You were facing away from her as you felt the bed dip behind you when she got into bed. Feeling her presence behind you, you turned your head to offer her a small smile. 

“Can I… wrap my arm around you? It’s the only way we’ll both fit in this bed.” Natasha remarked, her voice laced with a hint of embarrassment. 

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension easing further as you nodded in agreement. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

As Natasha shifted closer, her front pressed up against your back and her arm gently encircling your waist, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden intimacy. Despite the awkwardness, there was a surprising comfort in the warmth of her touch, and you found yourself relaxing further in her embrace.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

“Goodnight, Natasha.” You replied, a sense of contentment settling over you as you closed your eyes.

navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me

#lumi’s fics! #marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction