#is it angst? is it hurt/comfort? i dont even know | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dansconcepts · 1 month

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Everything's Coming Up Hajime

The following drabbles (they're little scenes of different things with some more detailed than others because a fic was too ambitious for me :'>>>) completely and wholly inspired by and dedicated to @gliittergelpens for their headcanon post on Hajime (found here) and also the connected follow up interaction here. Go check 'em out :D! And I hope you enjoy this :).

Bleary lights. Bright. Dreary.

Alone.

NO!

Bolt, bolted, he can’t move, why can’t he move? Everything’s not okay, why is he here again? Where are they? Get to the corner, get to the corner, he can’t move he can’t move!- (why is he prolonging the inevitable? He hasn’t done that in so long)

Pressure starts compounding on his chest. He shakes. He doesn’t want to go again, it’s going to be another round of tests again, he didn’t know he agreed to this! Let go, let go, let GO!

“Hajime.”

They never call him that. He is the subject, their project, the plaything to rip apart because he is nothing more than an experiment. He is not a person. He is not Hajime.

“Hajime.” They repeat. “It’s Makoto.”

Makoto?

He doesn’t recognize-

Makoto Naegi.

He blinks. His body slumps. As if his body was lead, his head slowly turns toward the source.

“Makoto Naegi” was never one of the researcher’s names. He knows, because he remembered each and every one, even if he didn’t want to. No, Makoto Naegi is someone else entirely, someone who isn’t associated with the Project.

Sage-coloured irises meet his gaze first. They are warmer than any of the researchers’ eyes.

…He isn’t in a lab, is he?

“Muh-” He winces. His voice sounds terrible.

“Hey, drink up.” Makoto commands, not unkindly. “I know you’ve been in there for a while, but try your best.”

A glass of water is held to his lips and once they hit, his lips burn, but he downs it gratefully anyway. His throat protests in agony.

“Do you know where you are and what happened, Hajime?”

Hajime stretches, pops coming from all his atrophied joints. “W-we- ugh, Jabberwock Island. K-cough-illing game.” The Killing Game. At the reminder, adrenaline starts coursing through him, and he immediately lurches out of the pod.

Makoto gently pushes him back.

“Yes. The other survivors are awake, but they do not hold the memories you do.”

“W-what about everyone else? What happened to them?”

“They’re still in the pods.” He tries jumping out again. “BUT!” Makoto blurts out. “BUT they’re okay. They’re not in the killing game right now. They seem to have created their own worlds-”

“What can I do to wake them up?” He quickly interrupts.

“Oh, um, I was going to get to that part.” A small smile stretches on his face. “I knew you’d want to help. I would’ve been the same.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Darkness.

He feels so tired.

He hasn’t felt this tired in… so long. Everything… is so tiring.

Lights threaten to blind him.

No.

Let him sleep.

Let him sleep…

“Hey, Nagito... it’s Hajime.”

He stirs. Hajime?

He looks at the tanned skin, eyeing the scars on the undersides of his eyes, further littered over his arms, and then tracing back to his equally scarred lips, that were currently sipping on a cup in his hands.

“Ha-jime.” He croaks. Wordlessly, Hajime provides him some water. With weak hands, he reaches out toward the cup, and manages to squeeze enough of a firm grasp on it. Hajime continues sipping while he slowly gulps down the offered water.

“Ahem,” He coughs. “Hinata, my apologies. …What happened?”

“You’re one of the last few to wake up, Komaeda.” Hajime replies, and notably, provides no context. “What do you remember?”

The question sparks his silence. His mouth purses into a deeply thin line. He eyes the man in front of him. Is there something he must have forgotten? “...Nothing particularly pleasant.” He decides on.

Hajime scrutinizes him. He stays quiet. Hajime slumps over with a sigh. “Okay, fair enough. Your pod opened, but you wouldn’t wake up. You’re in the hospital now.”

He looks around. Yes, he gathered that. The white walls and bright fluorescent lighting weren't foreign to him, he would recognize such a place no matter where he was. He could voice that, but there are more pressing concerns.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand. How did I get here?”

“We went through a rehabilitation program.”

“Ah.” The memories are hitting him now. “Yes, sorry, I do remember us Remnants being captured for such a thing, although I don't remember much else.” He hums, looking the other up and down. “It worked, then?”

“That depends. How do you feel? About, you know, hope and despair and all that.”

“Well,” He chuckles, “if you’re worried I’m going to blow up this hospital in the pursuit of ‘a greater hope’, you would be greatly mistaken.”

Hajime breathes out a sigh of relief. “But I imagine my luck could affect that greatly. It's very fortunate you could balance it out.” The other gazes away from him, looking down in thought. How curious. Was it something he said?

He subtly tilts his head. The brunet covertly glances around, as if he was watching for something. Piercing eyes returns to meet his. “You can't get up to any crazy shit just because I can do that.” The other jokingly chastises, but his eyes remained guarded.

He nods with an smile. “Oh, I would never.” To anyone, it would simply be him teasing. However, he can tell Hajime's trying to hide something about his talents, and someone here is watching them. He wonders who would cause such paranoia.

Hajime fills him in on what occurred, being saved by the "Future Foundation" (oh, it's them.) and particularly specific members (Makoto! As in Makoto Naegi, The Ultimate Hope Makoto? Yes Komaeda, just keep it in your pants.), as well as explaining Nagito’s status, his mental and physical state (still affected by his pre-existing conditions, albeit less so), and the new addition to his body.

He turns it. He didn't even notice he had a new arm. It feels seamless, although the metal is strange to feel underneath his fingertips.

“I had to replace it.” Hajime explains. “The dead tissue was threatening to spread to the rest of your body if it was kept there. It was fine when we were hooked up to the pods since that was preserving it, but since you went into a coma, we had to act fast.”

“Hmm.” He curls his newfound metallic fingers. He sends him a smile. “It seems I owe a lot of my gratitude to you, Hinata, for helping trash like me.”

There's a pause. “We'll work on that,” is the response Hajime settles with. “...Do you want to meet everyone else?”

He freezes. Everyone else?

Although he doesn't know why, he feels himself pale completely and his body shivers. Everything in him feels cold, as if the temperature dropped, as if his whole body rejected the very idea of something he was otherwise only semi-wary about. He knows he had many reasons before to feel apprehensive around his former classmates, given his past transgressions during his time as a Remnant and theirs, but this feels... bone-chilling. Buried deep within his psyche, perhaps connected to the memories he doesn't have.

“What happened in the program.” He bluntly states, rather than asks.

“No one else remembers too, if that helps.” Hajime starts. It doesn't. “Even I barely remember it. Everyone has felt snippets though, things they avoid subconsciously, or they experience nightmares about it.” He wonders if Hajime has nightmares. He wonders what Hajime avoids. “It was broadcast-”

“I want to watch it.”

Hajime's jaw tightens. “It wasn't that type of broadcast. It wasn't recorded, it was just shown to Makoto and the other survivors. Besides, it's best you don't anyway. You're going to remember something about it.”

“How cynical. What if all I remember are pleasant things?” Nagito inquires, even if he knows the likelihood of that is so astronomically low. He is aware of himself. He knows being put into a situation like the Killing Game would just mean he'd have made very elaborate plans and schemes. Thinking that, a sharp pain in his abdomen sears through him, and he winces. It's a whisper of a feeling, but it felt... real.

Hajime merely lets out a defeated sigh. “I hope it is, Komaeda, I hope it is.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Throughout everything, this was the last thing he thought about.

The scars.

For the longest time, he forgot about the scars. For the briefest of moments, his complexion wasn’t completely covered by raised bumps, of angry red tissue, of the careless abandon from scientists who dissected him to fit their molds of perfection.

And now he’s left looking into the mirror, tracing. His fingers feel the ridges. He remembers the scalpel digging into his eye, even if he didn’t feel the pain of it. He looks at the angry lines along his muscles, his thighs, and he knows with certainty it can be traced down to his feet, the bathroom counter being the only reason he can’t see the reflection of it. He remembers exactly what they forcibly fused together, being haunted by the ghosts of the sutures that were once there.

This is who he sees looking back at him.

…Mikan cleans the glass away from his fist.

[He could’ve done it himself, but it would’ve been a messier job, much like with anything else he would try nowadays.]

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hajime is out training with Nekomaru, alongside Akane, and casually working out with them.

Nekomaru points out the bandages that suddenly replace his glove, and he waves them off. “Just an accident.”

After a decent workout, he starts heading back to his cabin to shower when he spots Fuyuhiko to the side, relaxing against a wall.

“Hey.” He greets.

“Yo.” The former yakuza head nods.

They watch those on the beach, a tall orange blurb chases after a red one, their laughter filling the air as suddenly they're jumped by an even louder multicoloured blurb cackling with mischief. He can hear Hiyoko's distant cursing while Mikan rushes over, fretting. He snorts.

Fuyuhiko crosses his arms, a smile on his face at the scene. “Can’t believe we get to have this.”

“I know.” He agrees. He’d do anything to ensure everyone here stayed happy like this. Speaking of, he has to make sure to check on the next shipment of supplies afterward. He refuses to have those Future Foundation workers anywhere near the Island otherwise. But first, shower.

He's about to leave when-

“What’s with the bandages?” The former yakuza asks.

He contemplates lying. The last thing he wants is for everyone to start worrying about him. As if aware of his thoughts, Fuyuhiko sends him a particularly scathing glare, menacing even with the eyepatch. He fesses up immediately.

“I punched a mirror.”

“Why?”

“My scars-” He starts.

Fuyuhiko quickly interjects. “There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“Part of me understands that, but I look at them and just see…” Hope's Peak. The Hope Cultivation Project. The Remnants of Despair. He squeezes his bandaged hand. “...bad memories.”

“Yeah, I feel that.” Almost subconsciously, Hajime glances at Fuyuhiko’s scar, hidden behind black cloth. Fuyuhiko meets his gaze, unflinching. “I hate thinking about having that bitch’s eye in me.”

“How do you do it?” How do you look at yourself in the mirror? How do you live with yourself? How do you not hate yourself?

“Being a former yakuza, scars were symbols of respect. This scar?” He gestures to it. “It’s a reminder I’m not some psychotic fuck anymore under that bitch’s heel.

I know I’m not you, Hajime. I don’t have the amount you have. But know that your scars show that you’ve survived, and you’ve made it out the other side. That’s admirable.

And ain’t nobody here went through the type of shit you did. We all look up to you. You’ve had this whole thing on your shoulders. Nobody thinks you’re damaged goods with those scars. Hell, we think of them as a reminder that you’re the strongest out of all of us.”

“...Thanks, Fuyuhiko.”

“No problem. Now you should go take a shower, you smell like shit.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hajime waits in front of the screen. In no time, Chiaki's grinning face pops up. “Hey Hajime. It's nice to see you. How're you doing today?”

They talk amicably. Even though she wasn't his former friend, the reminder of her AI was comforting, and in the few pleasant dreams he had, he remembered her presence (and in the worser ones, he remembered her death).

“-There's a call for you by the way, I think. It's from Makoto.” He nods. “Thanks Chiaki.”

She patches him through, and he finds it so striking the difference between now and the tentativeness from the beginning, back when they were still establishing Jabberwock Island. Signal seemed daunting, and they (him, Makoto, and Byakuya) were still trying to get Chiaki's AI booted back up. He remembers when they first suggested she try to call the Future Foundation (particularly Aoi, since Hajime refused to have the new Future Foundation head or some random member appear on the screen, since he'd contemplate breaking the nice monitor in half from sheer rage). “It's not what I’m programmed to do,” Chiaki had said, “but… I can try.”

Of course, Makoto and himself exchange pleasantries and talk for a bit, but then it derails into... less pleasant topics. “I'm hoping to finish up the layout for Hope's Peak.”

He tightens a hand over his glove, pursing his lips. “Makoto. I’m glad you want to reclaim yourself, but Hope’s Peak? Really?” He hisses, and Makoto sighs, as if they had this same argument over and over again.

They have, by the way. Relentlessly. He is NOT getting over this, not by a long shot. He already knows how much Makoto invested into the project, but he’s still of the very firm belief he should’ve invested zero. Of course, he wouldn’t taint their rare ability to chat with one another about it, but he isn’t above reminding Makoto if he brings it up, just to be petty.

But being TRAUMATIZED WATCHING YOUR FRIENDS GET MURDERED is one of the many valid reasons for having absolutely NO interest in seeing the place that tortured him, everyone he cares about, Makoto, everyone Makoto cares about, and basically THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD, come back to existence.

He loves Makoto, he does, and he knows Makoto’s a good guy, but…

The idea of Hope’s Peak not being some fucked up breeding ground for hope and despair? It doesn’t seem possible. Part of the problem in the first place was the idea of pitting students against each other, forcibly defining people's significance based on whether they had “talent” or not. As well, they really sucked at developing talented people's talent, giving arbitrary assignments (from what he heard) and no actual practicality applied. He would know. His body is literally littered with their failure.

And the Future Foundation providing a substantial amount of the funds for this project? Hajime has no doubt in his mind that there’s something underlying their generosity.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It's looking to be another sleepless night, despite the weight under his eyes begging for relief. Hajime just stares at the ceiling. He feels the body beside him shift the bed, creaking it ever so slightly, and in his peripherals Nagito faces him. Nagito has always been a bit of a restless sleeper (not that he blames him), so he isn't surprised to hear him ask, “What’s on your mind, Hajime?”

He sighs. “I’m just worried about the whole Hope's Peak idea.”

“You don’t believe in Makoto?”

He quickly flips onto his side to frown at Komaeda for the sheer idea. “I believe in him, I don’t believe in anyone else.”

“Well, I can’t help but feel a little hurt…”

“You know how I feel about you.”

Nagito hums. “Do I?” He smirks. “How do you feel, Hajime?”

Why is he turned this way again? He flips back around, ignoring the way his ears start to warm up.

“...Shut up and go to sleep already.”

He hears Nagito chuckle behind his back. It settles eventually though. Ah, Nagito finally went to bed.

“You know,” Nagito's voice pipes up, still awake after all. His voice sounds a little whimsical, as if nearly about to sleep. “I don't necessarily disagree with you. I thought it was a place of great hope, and the fact it's being run by the Ultimate Hope is quite amazing. But...

There's you. And the hope in you has been shining so brightly this whole time.”

He freezes. Did he just-?

The words spark something in him. As if they sounded familiar.

He gets a rush that tea- nor even caffeine back when it did anything for him- has never achieved. When he eventually does sleep that night, his dreams are pleasant.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It's one of those rare instances Makoto lands on Jabberwock Island and can say hi to everyone. They meet at the small restaurant on the Island where Hajime prepares some tea for himself. He offers it to Makoto, who takes it gratefully.

Much like their video chats, the start talking about what's currently going on when Makoto- once again- mentions Hope's Peak.

Hajime lowers his cup.

“I'm going to be reinstating talents at Hope’s Peak.”

His fingers clutch his glove. He digs them in, sharp and quick, his lips immediately pulling down into a frown.

“Did… someone force you to do this?”

“Uh, no?” Makoto averts his gaze. “I’ve consulted with basically everyone since you’ve started getting me a little paranoid…”

“You should be. The Future Foundation doesn’t deserve you. You’re way too good for them.”

“They're trying to change.” Makoto states, with not much conviction.

Hajime hums skeptically. Sure they are. “Just watch out for yourself, yeah? Because the first thing I’ll do is leave this island just to kick their asses. I don’t need an Ultimate to make them into ragdolls.”

Makoto chuckles, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “...You must’ve practiced that.”

“Being around Fuyuhiko and Akane tends to give you some badass lines.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It starts like a regular day. Things break, people fight, problems arise, he deals with it. When he sees the broadcast, he doesn't know how to deal with it.

“Oh, Makoto's on TV. How exciting.” Nagito mentions offhandedly, as if it was something as casual as the weather. It decidedly is NOT. Is Makoto okay? Why would he be broadcasted? Is this another...?

“-ing Hope's Peak,” He catches the tail end of. “In this world, there's nothing more important than banding together to fix the Tragedy that occurred. Rejoice with me as your new headmaster. Alongside the Future Foundation, we'll bring forth a new hope together!” Hajime cringes, and cringes hard. This doesn't sound like Makoto at all. The Future Foundation logo is the last image of this blatant ad, what the fuck, but he's seen enough.

He knows exactly how to deal with this.

He strolls into the new Future Foundation headquarters (although that may be underselling it). Instantly, upon seeing him, people start shrieking and running. Red lights blink in and out. He brushes it off. It’s the last of his damn worries right now.

He's rushed by armoured guys. He suddenly feels like he should've thought this through, but he continues on. He slips himself into the old Remnant persona like an ill-fitting jacket, paired with a little Ultimate Actor prowess. “Let me through or I'll make sure your families have nothing to put into a casket.” Okay, not his best work, but it's enough for them to back off. They watch him. He even hears one guy cowering in fear from behind. It's that which allows him to catch the guy's arm and dislocate it. Everyone jumps at the sudden violence, and the guy screeches.

He knows it's fixable, but he still feels bad. The mask he wears threatens to slip, but he keeps going until he gets to the new Future Foundation head. (Hajime met her before through a forced video call, with them threatening to interfere at Jabberwock Island if he wasn't capable enough. “I am Sumiko Hatanaka,” they introduced themselves. “Ultimate Administrator. Given the circumstances the Future Foundation is currently in, I have become appointed as the temporary replacement head provided my previous experience and commitment to my work.”)

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing.” He sneers.

“How are you here?” She asks. “What are you doing here?”

“That wasn’t my question.”

He sees a sheen of nervousness across their forehead, but they don't let up their frown.

“Why are you here, Hajime Hinata, Remnant of Despair?”

Why is he here? Why is he HERE?

“What gave you the right to use Makoto for some ad for Hope's Peak? What the hell are you doing, exposing him further to the public? Do you know what this could do to him?”

“I assure you, I have no vested interest in letting a valued employee be defaced in any way, shape, or form. His mental faculties are highly important to this company. Meanwhile, you are jeopardizing the very people you wished to protect by coming here. Was it worth it?”

He growls, “Leave Makoto the fuck alone, or I’ll remind you why I was a Remnant.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Makoto’s Hope’s Peak is in full operation. He doesn't know if he'll ever visit. So instead, Hajime is left pondering the future, and living on the Island with the rest of his classmates.

He genuinely hopes nothing bad will happen, but...

He wouldn't bet that it won't.

#hajime hinata #danganronpa #sdr2 #the whole class of sdr2 #future foundation #makoto naegi #nagito komaeda #komahina #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #drabbles #long post #tw gore #but like canon-typical i think #i don't get that descriptive it's just like in-game stuff #references to the killing game (including deaths)#im so glad for these hcs bc i learned how much i love hajime and seeing him be able to vent and be reminded he's loved #(spoilers for this) the title is ironic #even when i was writing this i thought hajime going to ff hq was kinda ooc but i did it bc would love the ff catching hajime's hands #oc mention #that i created purely just for this idk i couldnt think of anyone fitting since i dont know much about the FF #this was roughly edited #i kinda have further ideas but we're sticking with this for now haha this is already pretty long

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ghostlyyraccoon · 1 year

Text

fast as you can

ship: kaveh x alhaitham

word count: 11534

warnings: minor violence, short mention of sexual assault

chapters: 1/1

ao3 link: x

summary: “I returned to the tavern after I brought you home, found the man whose name you told me and punched him square in the face. Are you happy now?” Alhaitham leaned closer towards Kaveh. “Do you believe me?” There was a strange intensity to his eyes.The unexpected honesty had Kaveh utterly confused. For a moment, he was quiet as he ran his fingers over his temples.“I don't understand why you would do this for me. Is it to put me in even more debt? Don't I owe you enough already? Tighnari is convinced you did it for my sake.” He let out a dry laugh. “Unless you're like, secretly in love with me, there'd be no-” Kaveh's words, uttered without much thought, got stuck in his throat when for the shortest of moments, a conflicted expression ghosted over Alhaitham's face. Kaveh felt like the air was being pushed out of his lungs.“W- what was that?!”

Alhaitham considered himself a sensible man. He knew how to navigate his feelings, no matter how incomprehensible they tended to appear to the outside world. Oftentimes, his behaviour was seen as either rude or uncaring, yet Alhaitham rarely bothered to correct these assumptions. After all, there was some truth to them that he did not care to debate. He tolerated a set amount of social torment in a day and refused to even entertain the thought of willfully prolonging the experience.

At his house, it was a different story. Alhaitham’s homelife, once quiet and serene, had been turned upside down the moment Kaveh moved in, desperate and hellbent on keeping his new living arrangement a secret. Kaveh’s refusal to let anyone know about his circumstances was truly fascinating to Alhaitham, considering how the architect tended to complain about him to anyone within hearing range the moment a droplet of wine touched his lips.

Kaveh was currently at Lambad’s tavern, doing exactly that. Archons, he would have kept going if Lambad hadn’t called for Alhaitham to come and escort his tipsy roommate back home. Perhaps the fact that Kaveh had gotten involved in a slight brawl with another patron mere hours prior had worried the staff enough to reach out.

The Acting Grand Sage arrived less than half an hour later, the expression on his face unreadable as he nodded at Lambad in silent greeting before paying Kaveh’s tab.

“We are leaving,” he said as he passed by Kaveh, who was lounging on a couch, legs crossed and wine glass in hand. He spared Alhaitham a quick glance and rolled his eyes, refusing to move. When Alhaitham noticed that he had no intentions of getting up, he turned back around and gave him a quick once-over. For a moment, there seemed to be a silent conversation between the two men. They stared each other down, neither of them willing to budge.

“I am waiting,” Alhaitham finally said. “Unless you want to sleep on the streets tonight. If that’s what you’re aiming for, then be my guest.”

Kaveh scoffed and took another sip of his half-empty wine glass before pointing it in Alhaitham's direction. “Did you forget that I have a key? It was you who gave it to me, I might add!”

“Oh? You mean this key?” Alhaitham opened his palm and Kaveh was greeted by his lion keychain dangling off Alhaitham’s ring finger.

“Oh, you little-” Kaveh crossed his arms and leaned forward. His eyes were glowing in the tavern’s low lighting. “And why should I have to listen to you? Just because we live together doesn’t mean I have to go along with everything you say. What do you think I am, your lapdog?!”

A couple of patrons turned their heads around and exchanged curious glances as Alhaitham ran his hand across his face. He wasn’t wearing his earpieces and his expression looked fairly irritated. “Last chance,” he forced out, his tone more quiet than usual. With that, he waved Kaveh’s keys in front of his face again, an eyebrow raised expectantly. Kaveh leapt forward to reclaim what was his and almost got intimately acquainted with the sticky tavern floor in the process.

Kaveh was stumbling down the dimly lit streets, fuelled by two bottles of wine and a certain kind of delirium that only came for those destined to black out soon. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet for the majority of the walk and was most likely sulking due to his night out having been cut short.

After a few more wobbly steps, he unexpectedly began to talk again. “Say, Alhaitham,” he started. “Tell me one thing. Am I not…desirable? With my reputation, one would think there’d be admirers lining up at my front door. Yet all I get stuck with are these desperate good for nothings.”Despite his state of intoxication, he barely slurred his words, so it didn’t take Alhaitham much to understand him. After all, he’d left his earpieces at home and was now unwillingly suffering through the world at full volume.

He shot his roommate a quick side-glance. “For starters, you’d need a front door of your own for that, don’t you think?”

“You-” Kaveh started, but stumbled over his own feet before he could keep going. Alhaitham, attentive as usual, quickly wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him up before he could hit the ground. Kaveh’s body felt almost feverishly hot against his own chilly skin.

“You are infuriating!” Kaveh exclaimed, out of breath. He hit Ahaitham’s arm thrice in quick succession until the man let go of him again. “I am trying to tell you about this respectless bastard who tried to come onto me, getting all handsy and such! He wouldn't even take a no!”

Finally, Alhaitham turned to look at him. Knowing Kaveh, he’d let that man know exactly how he felt about the unwanted advances. Judging by his reaction, there was little need to worry. Despite knowing that, there was a feeling he couldn't name roaming in his chest.

“Knowing you, that man would’ve run away sooner or later regardless,” Alhaitham added from two steps behind. He pushed the unnamed sensation aside and bookmarked it for future review.

Kaveh gasped.“I don't even know why I try to talk to you. You-! You have the emotional sensibilities of a sumpter beast!” His cheeks flushed red with anger as he stared at him in disbelief. Alhaitham scoffed, but refused to say more.

“And another thing!” Kaveh turned back around, an accusing finger pointed at Alhaitham. “I could get a partner if I really put my back into it. It’s just that I’m too busy at the moment! That is all!”

“Is that so?” Alhaitham said stiffly, furrowing his brows. “Let me know when the time comes and I’ll extend my congratulations to the happy couple.”

Kaveh simply clicked his tongue and started walking faster. The rest of their walk was painted in silence. In spite of his apparent nonchalance, Alhaitham was deep in thought, reflecting on his roommate’s words.

Then Kaveh stumbled a second time and despite his colourful words of protest, Alhaitham pulled his arm over his shoulder and kept him steady until they reached their house.

When Alhaitham finally unlocked the door, Kaveh was already hanging off his shoulder, threatening to fall to the ground. He wrestled him past the doorstep and as soon as the living room was in sight, Kaveh freed himself, stumbled the last few steps forward and crashed on the couch. His head hit the pillow and it was immediately clear the man was gone. Alhaitham watched him from several steps away.

Kaveh's cheek was pushed against his hand and his shirt had wandered, exposing freckled shoulders and a tanned chest. His last job in the desert had turned his skin into the softest shade of brown.

Alhaitham silently moved closer and leaned down, one forearm braced against the couch’s backrest. He tilted his head to the side as he watched Kaveh’s breathing calm down. His hair, pale like wheat, was looking far from pristine with the way it was spread out over the pillow and covering a good part of his face. His lips, plump and wine-tinted, were slightly parted.

Alhaitham allowed himself a good look. The soft sound of Kaveh’s breathing filled his ears. The room was so quiet he could almost hear his own heartbeat.

It was calm moments like these where he was most certain he was losing the rational part of his mind. He knew far too well what his feelings for his roommate meant, knew against his own judgement that the feelings he harboured were far from the camaraderie one should feel for a former classmate. Against better judgement, he’d been aware of the fact that he was in love with Kaveh for the past seven years.

For a split second, he found himself reaching out. With much more care than one would expect from him, he pushed a strand of hair out of Kaveh’s face, careful not to have his fingers touch his skin.

“What am I supposed to do with you,” he mumbled, then stopped himself and opted to flick his fingers against his forehead instead. Kaveh’s eyebrows pulled together in annoyance and his nose scrunched up. Even in his sleep, he swatted at Alhaitham’s hand, mumbling a string of words that were most likely insulting in nature.

Alhaitham smiled before leaning down further, their previous discussion still fresh in his mind. “What was that bastard’s name?” he whispered into his ear.

“-k-m…” At first, Kaveh’s reply was too muffled to understand. It took Alhaitham a moment until the name sorted itself in his head. Then, Kaveh stirred again. “Akim,” he repeated before burying his face deeper in the couch pillows.

Akim, huh?

Alhaitham straightened his back again and searched the room. His eyes stopped at a blanket lying near Kaveh’s feet. It was a gift from an old woman he’d involuntarily helped out, and was irritatingly scratchy. It had the most horrible feel to it, but for some forsaken reason, Kaveh didn’t seem to mind it one bit. Alhaitham gathered the blanket and quickly threw it over him so it fell somewhat clumsily onto his body. Kaveh mumbled another string of words he couldn't understand as he adjusted the blanket so it covered his entire body.

Ahaitham had made up his mind. On his way out, he grabbed Kaveh’s set of keys. There was some place he still had to visit tonight.

He threw his sleeping roommate one last look as he grabbed his soundproof earpieces and pulled the door shut.

Truthfully, Alhaitham had been aware of his feelings for Kaveh for years now.

The first time they met was shortly after Alhaitham’s grandmother died, leaving him an orphan with no immediate family to call his own. The grief was still fresh as a wound the day they met at the House of Daena.

Kaveh, in his own way, had somehow managed to lift his spirits during that time. Alhaitham was barely respondent and borderline rude, yet Kaveh had been there and somehow managed to befriend him along the way. Perhaps this unexpected act of kindness was the last nail in Alhaitham’s coffin. At first, the realisation was nothing but an obstacle to him. It was a riddle he couldn’t solve, a language that failed to come to him naturally. For years thoughts of Kaveh plagued him at night, resulting in him spending restless hours pondering over what could’ve possibly triggered them.

Months passed and everything was fine until it wasn’t. After the complete disaster that was their joint project, they stopped meeting up, stopped talking altogether. One big fight was all it took to tear down the shaky constructs of their friendship. It was one sentence too truthful, uttered without consideration for the repercussions.

Ever since that day, Kaveh refused to look him in the eye. When communication was necessary, he stubbornly insisted on only talking to him through other people. It was incredibly childish and perfectly Kaveh. And although Alhaitham refused to take back what he'd said, there was a part of him that understood why things had to turn out that way.

Despite himself, he missed the camaraderie they’d had. For several weeks he was moody and irritable until he came to accept that his problem wasn’t only the friendship lost, but also the realization that somewhere along the way, he’d fallen for his temperamental senior. As soon as he accepted his feelings for what they were, it turned from an unwanted surprise into a simple acknowledgement of facts.

Alhaitham hated soup, noisy crowds and had fallen in love with a man who had cut off all bonds they'd previously shared. It was reason enough to keep his distance and leave the relationship a broken, unstable thing. Maybe they were too different after all.

Perhaps it would’ve felt more heartbreaking if Alhaitham hadn’t known from the start that it would never work out.

After all, if there was one person in Teyvat unfit to be with Kaveh, it would be him. Kaveh dreamed of a big romance, dreamed of someone sweeping him off his feet into warm and welcoming arms. In the end, that was something Alhaitham would never be able to provide.

Perhaps it was a bittersweet concept to others, yet Alhaitham had never seen it that way. Since he’d considered his chances to be nonexistent right from the start, the disappointment gradually remained at a low point.

A sudden, loud noise disturbed the busy bustling of Lambad’s tavern.

A man stumbled backwards, pressing his hands closely to his nose. A stream of blood was running down his face, for his hands weren’t enough to stop the blood flow.

Alhaitham shook his hand, now speckled with blood, and looked down at the man below him, fist red and knuckles torn. “Don’t try that again. Next time, you won’t be so lucky. Understood?”

The man tried to retaliate, but quickly lifted one hand to protect his face when Alhaitham raised an eyebrow at him. “U-understood.”

He stared him down for good measure, then turned to leave. Lambad was calling his name, but Alhaitham had already turned his earpieces on, paying the world no mind anymore.

Maybe Alhaitham was losing himself in his own way after all. This had nothing to do with him, yet he’d still gone out of his way to rough the man up. His only saving grace was that even if word got out, Kaveh would never believe it. He had never been one to believe in the goodness of Alhaitham’s heart. Admittedly, it was a proper stance to have. After all, he was indeed particular about who he helped out, but when he did, he rarely cared to keep track of the favours people owed him for it.

The walk home was quiet and Alhaitham had to calm his heart that was beating to the tune of his music, before returning to his passed-out roommate.

Kaveh awoke to one of his arms dead asleep. Shooting up from the couch, he spent his first minute awake shaking the life back into his buzzing arm. The uncomfortable feeling was enough to momentarily distract him from what was to come.

As soon as his hand felt as if it belonged to his body again, the nausea hit him. Judging by his debilitating hangover, he'd definitely overdone it yesterday.

Slowly, he started dragging himself to the bathroom, feeling remotely pathetic and spent. The process took him much longer than expected since he had to stop and reconsider his life choices every few steps to make sure he didn't end up throwing up all over Alhaitham‘s atrocious carpet. Once he arrived without any further incidents, he held onto the sink as if it was a lifeline. Kaveh stared at himself in the mirror. His hair looked like a rat’s nest and his eyes were rimmed red.

When he tried to remember how he got home last night, he hit a wall. Even trying to retrace yesterday‘s steps did him no good. Perhaps he’d overdone it more than a little, he quietly had to admit to himself. No matter how hard he tried to remember, his brain wouldn't budge. The memory gap remained, annoying as it was.

He’d worry about it later. First, he had to get ready in time to meet up with Tighnari. They had scheduled a meeting weeks before, and there was no way in hell he’d miss out on it just because of a little hangover. It was rare enough that both of their busy schedules aligned for once.

Kaveh took a quick shower and left the bathroom, feeling slightly more alive again. He checked the time and cursed. If he ran, maybe he’d still make it in time.

Kaveh was sitting, massaging his temples as he tried to nurse the violent hangover he'd woken up to. Tighnari was sitting across from him, throwing him a slightly judgemental look as he stirred his tea. “You know,” he started.”I’d feel bad for you but you should definitely know better.”

“Yeah yeah, rub it in, won't you,” Kaveh complained. The server brought his order and Kaveh poked at it with a finger. It looked good, but the smell made his stomach turn a little.

Tighnari sipped on his tea and fixed him with a curious gaze. “So tell me, how did your night go? Judging by your half-alive state, I’d say not so well.”

Kaveh took a careful first bite and waited to see if his body agreed with what it was being offered. Once it felt safe enough, he dug in with vigour. Yesterday he'd opted out of eating before visiting the tavern - a fatal flaw as it turned out.

“Oh you won’t believe it,” he started between bites. “So picture this. Everything is going great. The wine is lovely, the company even more so. I am having an amazing time until this guy comes in and starts to flirt with me, trying to feel me up. That ugly bastard just wouldn’t take a no!” Kaveh swallowed his food. “He only got the message once I slapped him right across the face.” A quick chortle escaped his lips. “Left a pretty good mark if you ask me. Anyway, after I managed to shoo him off, naturally, I sped up on the drinks. Really, there was no saving the night after that, so who would blame me. And then everything goes black. I’m pulling up a blank slate right here.” He tapped the side of his forehead twice, then groaned as he buried his head in the crook of his arms. “It’s not fair. Let's just hope I didn't do anything stupid.”

Tighnari watched his friend and refilled his cup. Of course, he’d gotten somewhat used to his friend’s nightly escapades, but that didn’t mean they were any less troubling to listen to.

“Are you okay? If you want to, I could ask Cyno to find the guy.” There was genuine worry in his eyes.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ve been through worse.” Kaveh pushed his hair out of his face. In his hurry, he’d forgotten to pin it back. “ I appreciate the offer, but there's really no need. I just wish I’d hit him a little harder. Would have done him some good, I think.”

“About that,” Tighnari started. His ears twitched in anticipation. “Word has it Alhaitham beat someone up at the tavern last night. Do you think that could be related in some way?”

“Huh?” Kaveh’s head shot up and he almost dropped the spoon he‘d been playing with. “What?! Alhaitham beating someone up?! Nonono that can't be. What sort of reason would he have? What would someone have to do to him, dog-ear one of his books? Come on, Tighnari. This is Alhaitham we're talking about here. Al-hai-tham! ” He made sure to drag out his name. “This is ridiculous. Is everyone losing their minds? I mean, really.”

He racked his brain for last night’s memories, but came up with nothing new. Kaveh scoffed in annoyance. “He wasn't even at the tavern last night. I was there the entire time, I would definitely know. Alhaitham, beating someone up. Yeah right,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Tighnari stole a piece of Kaveh’s food and plopped it into his mouth. “Would you though? He always gets called when you overdo it. Archons above, it's beyond me why he still comes to pick you up so often. Kaveh, you’re my friend and you know I cherish you, but I’d definitely have abandoned you after the third time or so.” Tighnari leaned forward and his ears twitched playfully.

“Hey, rude! Aren’t you supposed to be my friend?!”

Tighnari’s tone turned more serious again. “In all honesty, I can't think of anything besides you that routinely gets Alhaitham to act out of bounds like that. I think it’s pretty safe to say that he normally doesn’t care enough to get involved like that.”

Kaveh scoffed once more, but stared at an indent in the table as he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, there's no way. Even if he did, he was probably just in a bad mood because he got sand in his shoes or something. Or he just read an incredibly bad application for funding. I'll ask him, you'll see! Alhaitham, doing something like that out of the goodness of his heart… yeah, right. What's next, he'll start behaving like a normal human being?!”

Kaveh threw the door open so hard it almost hit the wall.

“Alhaitham!” he yelled as he burst into the house, looking for his roommate. “Alhaitham! I need to talk to you!”

He didn’t have to look for long. There Alhaitham was, lounging on the couch. It was his day off, so he looked fairly relaxed reading his book, not even looking up as Kaveh came bustling in.

“What's the ruckus about this time?” he said, head still turned towards his book. One finger hovered over the pause button of his earpieces.

Kaveh sized him up with a strange look on his face, then stepped forward and quickly snatched the book away from him. Alhaitham looked up at him, irritation clear in his eyes. He reached for the book, but before he could grab it, Kaveh put it even further away.

“Let me check something,” he said. It was more of a demand than a question.

“Return my book and we’ll see about that,” Alhaitham shot back as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Listen to instructions for once in your life and you’ll get it back.”

Alhaitham seemed to consider his options for a moment. “No.”

“Alright, then,” Kaveh muttered under his breath. Instead of continuing to run in conversational circles with Alhaitham, he lunged forward and grabbed both of his hands by the wrists, pulling them close. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Embarrassingly enough, Kaveh was more than acquainted with Alhaitham’s hands and would notice even the slightest change in appearance. He’d always harboured an artist’s adoration for them. Long fingers, almond-shaped nails and soft-looking skin seemed to make for the perfect muse. In the confines of his room, he’d painted them more times than he was proud to admit. Not that he'd ever told anyone about it. Actually, he’d much rather die and turn over in his grave before admitting to such a thing out loud.

He inspected the hands he knew so well with furrowed brows. Alhaitham’s skin was as smooth as he had always expected it to be. When his thumbs ran over split knuckles, Kaveh looked at his roommate with raised eyebrows. Of course, Tighnari just had to be right.

“What the hell, Alhaitham! When Tighnari told me someone saw you getting into a fight at the tavern, I was so sure they must've been mistaken. Feeble scholar my ass.”

Alhaitham tried to pull his hands away, but Kaveh only tightened his grip and pulled them closer.”Don’t you have anything to say?!”

“So what if I did. I don't see how that's any of your business, Kaveh.”

“When did you even get to Lambad’s? You weren't there when I was.”

Alhaitham raised one eyebrow. “You do know the owner calls me whenever someone needs to drag your semi-conscious carcass back home, don’t you? Did you really think you got yourself home in the state you were in?” His hands were unmoving in Kaveh’s and he threw him a taunting look. “Everybody, clap for the genius that is the Light of Kshahrewar,” he replied, his voice dripping in sarcasm. It made Kaveh want to throw a fit. How could one man be this infuriating? He dropped Alhaitham's hands as if he'd been burned. This was as close to an admission as he'd get from him.

“Not only are you a bastard, you’re an ass too! Unbelievable! And to think I was worried about you! Why can't you just communicate like a normal human being?”

Alhaitham shot him a deadpan look as he tried reaching for his book again. Clearly, he didn't want to talk about the issue at hand. But that didn't mean Kaveh would just let him have his way. He moved Alhaitham's book even further out of reach.

“We are not done talking.”

“Says who.”

“Well, I do! And I’m your roommate, so you’ll have to listen to me!”

“Remind me how that works again?”

Kaveh stared him down, exasperated. When he received no further answer, he clicked his tongue and turned on his heel. It was clear from the way his steps echoed through the hallway that he was mad.

What Alhaitham didn't expect however, was for Kaveh to return shortly after, disinfectant and bandages in hand. He plopped down on the sofa, one leg pulled up, the other on the ground.

“Come here,” he said, suddenly quiet. A peace offering.

Alhaitham didn't move an inch, but turned towards him with a raised eyebrow nonetheless. Kaveh rarely ever did things quietly. With him tended to come a boatload of irritating noise.

“Must you always be so difficult?! Come here, Alhaitham,” he repeated himself, this time more demanding.

“What for?” he asked stubbornly, earning him a groan from Kaveh.

“Just stop asking! Here.” Kaveh scooched forward, taking one of Alhaitham's hands and putting it on his leg.

The confusion was almost comically clear on Alhaitham's face. Before he could open his mouth again, Kaveh pressed an alcohol-drenched cotton ball to his split knuckles. His tongue darted past his lips as he ogled the injury once more before carefully applying bandages.

When he was done, he squeezed Alhaitham's healthy hand. “There. Wasn't that bad now, was it? You know, it wouldn't kill you to trust me from time to time.”

Kaveh had always been too kind for his own good. This breached dangerous territories. Alhaitham knew he should thank him, but being open felt like reaching into his chest and exposing a beating piece of his heart he wasn't willing to give up just yet. It was a derailment of what he knew that made his blood run cold.

Carefully, he flexed his fingers as he pondered his next move, decidedly ignoring how warm his cheeks felt after that small touch. Years of little to no touch had made him a degenerate when it came to physical affection, it seemed.

Alhaitham cleared his throat. “You didn't do half bad,” he finally admitted.

“Yeah yeah, you're welcome.” Kaveh made an exaggerated hand movement. “It was nothing.”

But Alhaitham knew better. To him, it was a lot more than that. People generally did not treat him this gently. Archons, people rarely ever touched him. They kept their distance, careful not to gaze over Alhaitham's meticulously built walls. Mostly, he was thankful for it. His fortress was a lone, but sturdy thing. It was safe and most of all, consistently reliable. Leave it to Kaveh to knock it down in the breath of a moment.

“You feel like telling me what happened now? Although I find you terribly insufferable, I don’t know you to be violent without a good reason.”

And Alhaitham decided to give him an inch. He tilted his head back and let his back hit the couch. “Find it out yourself if you're so curious,” he taunted, looking at Kaveh from under his eyelashes. Kaveh returned the gaze with a newfound fire in his eyes.

“Oh, I will. Believe me, I will!”

He pointed one last accusatory finger at his roommate. “This conversation is not over!”

For once, Kaveh made his way down to Lambad’s tavern without the goal of getting absolutely hammered in mind. Today, he was on an important mission.

It should be fairly easy to find the answer to his questions as long as he asked just the right people. After all, Lambad’s tavern was always filled to the brim. There had to have been at least a handful of people who bore witness to Alhatham’s little throwdown yesterday.

Kaveh didn’t have to search for long. Upon entering, first things first, he was faced with a man staring at him, one eye swollen shut and his nose bent in an awkward ankle, most definitely broken. The man opened his mouth, then closed it again when he made eye contact with Kaveh, bearing striking resemblance to a blowfish. His eyes darted to the ground almost immediately.

Suddenly, a memory pushed its way through Kaveh’s hazy brain. Hands trying to grab his waist, attempting to touch where he certainly hadn’t allowed him to.

“You little-” Kaveh started, leaping forward. Before he knew it, he was already grabbing Akim by the collar, pulling him closer to his face.

The scumbag named Akim lifted his hands in defeat, flinching away from him as he scrambled for words. “Your partner already taught me a lesson. I get it now! What I did was wrong and I am sorry. I've had one too many, Kaveh. I was drunk, drunk I say!”

Kaveh's anger came in hot white flashes. “That is not an excuse you- wait. Say that again?”

“I've had one too many?”

“No, the other thing! Did you just say my partner beat you up?” An idea, perhaps even an inkling of what might have occurred started to form in his head. However, it made absolutely no sense to him, no matter which way he turned it. There was only one person Akim could logically be talking about.

“Partner, boyfriend, lover, whatever you’d like to call the Acting Grand Sage.” Akim shied away from his probing gaze. “Knocked the living daylights out of me. Who knew a paper pusher like him could have that much upper body strength? I mean I should’ve known, the man is built like a t-”

Kaveh’s breath hitched in his throat. “The Acting Grand Sage beat you up?!” His voice raised in pitch. “You think Alhaitham and I are…” His cheeks reddened and Akim threw him an almost amused look.

“It's the talk of the town, even more so after he hit me in front of the entire tavern. Honestly, my bad for trying to shoot my shot despite it.”

“You- I- He…Ugh!” Kaveh brought out and let go of Akim’s collar. “It's not like that!” He took a step back and pushed his hair out of his face in exasperation.

“So I still have a chance?” The man’s hopeful smile was disgusting. Without any warning, Kaveh picked an abandoned glass off the table and threw the drink in his face. “You wish!” He left the man behind, dripping from head to toe and looking properly pathetic.

Kaveh made his way towards the bar, grumbling to himself, where Lambad watched him with a certain kind of curiosity.

“Mister Kaveh.” He nodded in greeting. “A bit early to see you here. Might I ask why you are antagonising my clientele this fine midday?”

Throwing himself onto one of the barstools, Kaveh leaned forward, fixing Lambad with a serious gaze. “He deserved it,” he concluded. “I’d keep an eye on him, he's definitely a pervert.”

“Hmm of course. I will keep it in mind. The Acting Grand Sage did already take care of that for you yesterday, didn't he?”

“Did everyone see?!” Nervously, Kaveh tapped his fingers against the counter. “Tell me what happened. Please, it’s… important.”

Lambad sighed. This was far beyond his pay grade.

When he returned home, Alhaitham was still where he’d left him. Kaveh approached, ready to confront him, but soon realised that Alhaitham had fallen asleep. Kaveh tutted his teeth. Whenever he complained to Cyno and Tighnari about how Alhaitham acted like a lazy cat in his free time, they refused to believe him. Yet here he was, once again dozing on the couch, the sunlight kissing his closed eyelids. He was lying on his side, both arms pulled close to his face. Like this, Alhaitham looked closer to the irritating junior Kaveh had met all those years ago. In many aspects, he was still the same. The attitude problem definitely remained, just as his lack of respect for his seniors did.

Kaveh knelt down, inspecting Alhaitham's face. “Hey, Alhaitham,” he said, voice firm. Alhaitham, being an exceptionally heavy sleeper, did not stir. The man was near impossible to wake and even more disagreeable than usual upon waking up. But Kaveh would have to risk it. After all, he wanted answers and he wanted them now.

“Wake up,” he said, shaking Alhaitham's shoulder. The man stirred, but only buried his head further into his arms. Irritated energy was coursing through his veins and Kaveh kicked the bottom of the couch. After all, Alhaitham hated when he made a ruckus. He'd show him what a proper ruckus looked like.

“Come on now, time to wake up!” He shook Alhaitham once more, this time more violently.

Finally, his eyes opened the tiniest bit. “What is it,” he grumbled and they fell shut again. Instead of waking up, he got a hold of Kaveh's arms. The architect promptly lost his balance and toppled over with a squawk. Curse Alhaitham and his stupid strength.

Still having a death grip on Kaveh's arms, Alhaitham turned onto his back, uttering something Kaveh interpreted as. “Just be quiet.”

This was why Kaveh never bothered waking him up. It was an entirely impossible feat and not worth sitting across from a grumpy Alhaitham not even coffee could soothe. Additionally, Kaveh was now partially draped over Alhaitham, unable to move. Determined not to give up, he swung his legs over Alhaitham's body, straddling him. He still couldn't free his hands, which were held tightly against Alhaitham's chest, but at least now he felt like he had the upper hand again.

“Alhaitham!” he said, this time louder. No response. “I'm not your pillow, let go of me!”

“Alright, if you're gonna be like that.” Kaveh leaned down until his head was almost in the crook of Alhaitham's neck, right next to his ear.

“Wake up, you bastard,” he whispered into his ear, sweetly, softly.

Finally, Alhaitham awoke with a startle, his eyes blinking against the light of the dimming sun.

“Kaveh?” Alhaitham was still drunk with sleep and his voice came out sounding both raspy and soft. Kaveh’s heart did something funny in his chest. Perhaps he'd made a mistake after all. He'd never heard Alhaitham utter his name like that.

Kaveh leaned back, dumbfounded, already having forgotten about the position he'd put himself in, and watched the way Alhaitham's eyebrows pulled together as he let go of his hands and yawned. He opened his eyes and suddenly stilled. For a moment, there was confusion on his face as he sat face to face with Kaveh. Neither of them said a word.

“What are you doing s-”

“It’s not what it looks like!”

They both stopped again until Kaveh remembered why he wanted to talk to him in the first place. He cleared his throat and turned his head away defensively. “I was just trying to wake you up. It’s not my fault you are impossible to wake up.”

“More importantly,” he continued. “Do you mind telling me what business you had at the tavern last night?”

Alhaitham sat up as much as he could, looking much livelier than he normally did after having been awoken so crudely. For once, there was some colour to his cheeks. “Actually, I do mind. Didn't I tell you to find it out yourself? What happened to that, gave up so soon? And to think you call yourself a creative genius.”

“I haven't! I just wanted to hear it from your mouth!”

Kaveh crossed his arms and looked down at Alhaitham. His eyes were narrowed.

Alhaitham blew his bangs out of his face and looked up at his roommate, who was still breaching his personal bubble. His eyes were still half-lidded from sleep, making his expression look remotely standoffish.

“I returned to the tavern after I brought you home, found the man whose name you told me and punched him square in the face. Are you happy now?” Alhaitham leaned closer towards Kaveh. “Do you believe me?” There was a strange intensity to his eyes.

The unexpected honesty had Kaveh utterly confused. Slowly, he untangled himself from Alhaitham and slid over to sit down on the couch instead. For a moment, he was quiet as he ran his fingers over his temples. His thoughts were racing.

“I don't understand why you would do this for me. Is it to put me in even more debt? Don't I owe you enough already? Tighnari is convinced you did it for my sake.” He let out a dry laugh. “Unless you're like, secretly in love with me, there'd be no-” Kaveh's words, uttered without much thought, got stuck in his throat when for the shortest of moments, a conflicted expression ghosted over Alhaitham's face. Kaveh felt like the air was being pushed out of his lungs.

“W- what was that?!”

“What was what?” Alhaitham replied, his voice lacking its usual bite. “You need to be more specific if you’re expecting an answer.”

A certain kind of nausea started to fill Kaveh’s guts. “I saw that. That look on your face, you… You must be joking.”

The look on Alhaitham's face was a truly unfamiliar sight. In the 10 years they’d known each other, Kaveh had never seen anything like it.

“This is just a cruel joke right? You've heard me lament about how lonely I am, so this is how you choose to tease me.”

Alhaitham seemed to have regained his composure. His lips parted and Kaveh waited impatiently. It was uncomfortable to see him at a loss for words.

Then finally, Alhaitham looked back at him before averting his eyes again. “It’s beyond me why that would be your first assumption,” he said calmly. “I may be blunt, but I'm rarely intentionally cruel, you should know that.”

“Then tell me that I got it wrong. Geez, don't sca-”

Alhaitham interrupted him before Kaveh could brush off his words. “You didn't. Your assumption was correct. I guess the secret's out now.” Alhaitham let out a dry chuckle.

Kaveh just stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, all possible replies dried out on his tongue. “Am I having a stroke?” he brought out, unable to keep his eyes off Alhaitham’s face. Red eyes met turquoise ones. “Do you want me to believe you of all people would fall in love? With me?”

The question caused more pain than he expected. Perhaps it was an unfair thing to feel hurt over. After all, Kaveh couldn’t have known the impact those exact words would have on him. Still, he recoiled and Kaveh pulled back his hands just as quickly.

“You'll be fine. This is none of your business anyway.”

Alhaitham stood up and pushed the hair out of his face. “For what it's worth…” He didn't turn back around. “I never planned on telling you. Maybe… “ He pulled a grimace. “Forget it.”

“It’s none of my business?! Oh no no, you are not going to get away with this, because I’m not buying it! You-” Kaveh watched Alhaitham, trying to find any change in his behaviour. He seemed just the same, if it weren't for the rigid set of his shoulders and his guarded expression.

“I thought you didn't care,” Kaveh whispered, all his anger blown away in an instant.

“I guess you thought wrong then.”

Kaveh couldn't keep his eyes off him. His heartstrings were aching with a familiar pain.

“You… you've known for a while,” he concluded and Alhaitham nodded. His hands were digging into his thighs hard enough to leave marks. Kaveh didn't dare to step closer, his body frozen in place.

“Obviously.”

“For how long?”

“I don't see how that matters.”

“It matters to me! Alhaitham, of course it matters! How. Long.”

It was obvious Alhaitham didn't want to answer. After a moment of silence however, he caved in. “After we cut contact.”

“After we-” Kaveh's eyes widened. “Seven years?! And you said nothing?!”

“Naturally. You didn't talk to me. Nothing would've changed if I’d thrown another set of obstacles your way.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t have listened. Nothing would have changed,” he repeated, putting more emphasis on his words. There was a scary level of conviction to his words.

Kaveh's head felt as if it was about to combust. His heart was beating with an anxiety that was yelling at him to escape while he still could. Certainty could be such a frightening thing. “I can't do this right now,” he forced out, caught up in the mess that were his own emotions.

Alhaitham nodded solemnly and sat down again, his hands now pressed flat against his thighs. For once, he seemed reluctant to fight about the issue. “I certainly won't stop you.”

“I'm going to Tighnari’s. Don't come after me.”

“Suit yourself.”

Kaveh rushed to his room to gather a few of his things. His heart was beating to his chest as he threw all his necessities into a bag. When he returned to the living room to retrieve his keys, Alhaitham was staring out of the window, arms crossed and lips pressed into a straight line.

And although there was some part of him yelling at him not to leave him like that, all Kaveh could do was run.

Alhaitham didn't turn around when the door fell shut behind him. As soon as he was alone, his expression dropped. This was the outcome he’d expected, yet it still hurt. It was a foolish, nonsensical thing to grieve about.

His heart ached, the feeling uncommon and new to him. It wasn’t the dull heartache of unrequited love he’d grown accustomed to, but something much more open and fresh instead.

Alhaitham slipped his ear pieces back on and put on instrumental music to soothe his bruised heart. The mellow beats did little to calm his troubled mind.

With a sigh, Alhaitham switched the music off again. Perhaps this was the perfect time to get serious about his temporary position as Acting Grand Sage. A lot of work had piled up and by now it was quite obvious that no one else was ready to step up just yet. Being busy would be a welcome distraction. Despite his efforts, there was nothing and no one waiting for him at home anyway.

Perhaps it was always supposed to end this way. After all, fate had never been particularly kind towards either of them.

Kaveh arrived in Gandharva Ville completely out of breath. He came to a stop, hands braced on his knees, and had to catch his breath for several minutes. As his gaze was turned towards his own feet, they were suddenly joined by a small set of sturdy boots. Kaveh’s head shot up and he was greeted by unruly green hair and big eyes. Tighnari’s little pupil, Collei, mustered him with a worried expression. “Mister Kaveh?! Are you- are you alright? Hold on, let me get you some water, here!”

The young girl unbuckled a flask from her belt and handed it over to him with shaky hands.

Kaveh took a big gulp and relished in the feeling of cold water making its way down his parched throat. He straightened his back and looked up. Kaveh was greeted by the bluest sky he'd seen in a long time. It was a day too perfect for his beaten mood and for once, he found himself wishing for rainy clouds and dark skies.

“Thank you, Collei. You are too kind. Is Tighnari home? I really need to talk to him.”

“Of course, yeah! I'll bring you to him, follow me!”

He followed her through the forest and not too soon after, they arrived at Tighnari's house.

“Master!”

Tighnari's head poked out of the doorway. “Yes, Collei? Oh- Hello Kaveh. I expected to see you sooner or later. Come in, tell me what happened.”

“Tighnari, can I stay here for a couple of days? Please?”

Tighnari put his hands on his hips and sighed. “That bad, huh? Well, come on in first. You can tell me all about what happened with Alhaitham after you’ve settled down a bit.”

“How did you-”

Tighnari sighed deeply. “One way or another, your problems always revolve around him.”

Kaveh opened and closed his mouth. “I complain about other things too!” he retorted, fairly offended.

Tighnari's ear twitched. “Let me be the judge of that.”

After he got settled in, Kaveh and Tighnari sat down at a cozy dinner table. Without saying a word, Tighnari pushed a bottle of wine towards Kaveh.

“You look like you need it.”

Kaveh accepted it gratefully. “Tighnari did the Archons send you?” He poured himself a glass, then settled down. After his first few sips, he pushed the glass away and cradled his head instead, lost in thought. Tighnari poured himself a glass as well and watched his friend with sharp eyes.

“Alhaitham told me he's in love with me.” Straight to the point. The words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could even think about stopping them.

Tighnari spilled a bit of wine and cursed. “He did what now? Kaveh…”

“For seven years, Tighnari! He's been keeping this from me for seven years! Can you tell me why he has to be like that?! And he only admitted to it because I straight up asked! If I hadn’t said anything, he would have-'' Kaveh interrupted his stream of words to take another small sip. “He would have kept it all to himself, just like that!” He nursed his drink and pushed out his bottom lip. “He’s so unfair, Tighnari.”

Tighnari furrowed his brows and sighed deeply. “So you finally realized it.”

“Finally? What is that supposed to mean? Don’t tell me…” Kaveh looked over at his friend. Was it that obvious?

“So how did you answer him?”

“Well, I- I mostly didn’t! I ditched him and immediately ran over here!”

With great restraint, Tighnari managed to suppress the urge to put his head in his own hands. Calmly, he folded his hands and leaned forward. “Let me summarize what happened, just to make sure I've got everything right. Alhaitham-”

Kaveh nodded.

“-confessed to you. You got mad at him, left without giving neither answer nor rejection and sought me out? Is that correct?”

Kaveh bit his lip. “Well, if you put it that way…”

“If I were you I’d go back home before he does something stupid.”

Guilt started to fester in Kaveh's bones. “I can't do that.”

“And why not? You can't just hide away forever. Running away from him will only get you so far. Didn’t you just start to rebuild your relationship? ”

“I can't because… because I just can't. It's complicated. He hasn't thought this through.” Kaveh crossed his arms and averted his eyes.

Tighnari didn’t know that everything good he touched eventually withered and died. No matter how irritating he was, he would never put this on Alhaitham, regardless of his own complicated feelings.

Tighnari fixed him with a deadpan stare. “You said yourself that it's been seven years. I think he’s had ample time to mull it over. I'm not trying to push you here, but I think you know very well that the actual problem lies elsewhere.” Tighnari tapped the table and faced him head on. “I just don't want you to ruin something before it's even had the opportunity to grow and bloom. Although Alhaitham is even more prickly than a cactus, I think you know him better than anybody else. Take your time to think it over, but don't just run away. You love him too, don't you?”

Kaveh lowered his head and wrung his hands. “Sometimes I despise how smart you are.”

When Kaveh returned with a made up mind and slightly improved mood, three days had already passed. Surprisingly, he was greeted by an empty home. After searching the entire house up and down, he came to the conclusion that nobody was home. Apparently, Alhaitham himself hadn’t been home in quite a while.

Just as Kaveh put down his bag, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips, the doorbell suddenly rang loud and clear. Kaveh opened the door without any hesitation. Perhaps Alhaitham had simply forgotten his key?

The man standing in front of the door was very clearly not Alhaitham. Still, the man’s face was familiar. Kaveh recognized it from somewhere. Then, it suddenly clicked. This man was Panah, the Mahamata who’d had the displeasure of getting tasked with helping out the Acting Grand Sage at the House of Daena.

“Senior Kaveh, thank Lesser Lord Kusanali!” he exclaimed, sounding both exhausted and out of breath. “Please come quick, we need your help. It's about the Acting Grand Sage. He hasn't left his office in days! Talk some sense into him, none of us are getting through to him! He just won't listen!”

Kaveh's eyes widened. So that was where Alhaitham had been hiding. What a fool.

“Yeah, he tends to do that. Let me grab my keys and I’ll be right behind you.”

Kaveh took the elevator up to Alhaitham's temporary office. To be quite honest, he had no idea what to expect. Despite his genius, Alhaitham was rarely one to do more than the bare minimum. This sudden change was so concerning and out of place that Kaveh couldn’t help but suspect that he was partially to blame for it. Perhaps if he hadn’t run away like a coward, things would’ve been different by now.

Alhaitham was sitting at his desk, the shadows beneath his eyes dark and pronounced as he stared down the document lying in front of him. The light of an almost burnt down candle dipped his features into an ominous light. The quill he was holding had left droplets of ink spattered on the tabled underneath his hand.

“Didn't I ask not to be disturbed?” he asked without lifting his head.

Kaveh walked over to his desk, hands stemmed on his hips. “Finally starting to take this thing seriously after all?” he asked before adding softly. “What are you doing here, Alhaitham?”

The scribe lifted his head and considered Kaveh. “Well, look who's found his way back,” he said drily. “The runaway architect.” He took a look at the clock. “There's still plenty of time left to escape if you ask me. Might make it worth your while.” Okay, so maybe running away had been an even worse decision than first anticipated.

“Alhaitham,” Kaveh started, but found himself at a loss for words once he got a closer look at the Scribe. “You look horrid.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. Now leave.”

Kaveh's eye twitched. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I refuse.”

Alhaitham stared him down. “I said leave, Kaveh. Is that so hard to understand?”

“I am not leaving until you're coming home with me,” Kaveh retorted.

“First you run for the hills and now you want to play martyr? What a kind and empathetic soul you are, Kaveh.” Alhaitham’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, but there was a strange tone buried underneath it. “Maybe you can fix me after all.”

Kaveh slammed both of his hands on top of Alhaitham's table. “Why must everything always be doused in sarcasm with you! Am I not allowed to show that I care about your wellbeing?!”

Alhaitham's gaze was exhausted as he cocked his head to one side. “It's beyond me why you'd do that.” His usual drawl lacked its sparkle. “I never asked for your kindness and I certainly won't start now. Go and offer your charity to somebody else.”

They stared each other down, neither wanting to give in. Alhaitham's eyes drooped with tiredness and Kaveh could tell he almost had him. So really, who would blame him for playing a little dirty. He sat down on the table, arms crossed and back turned away from his roommate.

“How mature,” Alhaitham's voice sounded from behind him.

Kaveh shrugged his shoulders. “And what about it? I don't see you acting your age either, so why should I?”

Alhaitham sighed heavily. Minutes passed, and the scratching of quill on parchment turned from erratic to slow until finally, the quill dropped onto the table and it stopped completely. Kaveh turned back around. Alhaitham's head hung low and his breathing was slow. He had passed out from exhaustion.

“Oh geez,” Kaveh mumbled. “What have you been putting yourself through?” He walked around the table, kneeling down next to him to take a closer look at his face. Despite his slumber he didn't look peaceful.

“Let's get you home,” he whispered, brushing Alhaitham's hair back in place before pulling his arms over his shoulders and taking hold of his legs, carrying him piggy-back. “If you let go I'll never forgive you,” he grumbled. For once, he found himself thankful for Alhaitham’s annoying tendency to sleep like a log. Alhaitham's head dropped onto Kaveh’s shoulder and the hold around his neck tightened. The weight of Alhaitham on his back was almost reassuring, grounding.

The people at the House of Daena, once preoccupied with their various research topics and assignments, were watching Kaveh with eyes as big as dinner plates as he carried the dead asleep Acting Grand Sage towards the exit.

“This,” he pointed at himself, then back to the bystanders, “never happened.” Kaveh lifted one finger in warning before he left. “There's nothing to see here. You didn’t see anything .”

For some reason, he was certain his insistent words would do little to keep the rumours from spreading even further.

If the people of Sumeru city weren't already gossiping about Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship, seeing Kaveh carry Alhaitham home would certainly give them ample reason to start doing so. For once, Kaveh didn't mind. More so, he found himself busy keeping the suffocating feeling of guilt at bay as he threw various onlookers with far too curious gazes a hard side-eye. Alhaitham the bastard continued to remain dead asleep and only tightened his hold on Kaveh’s neck.

“Are you trying to choke me out in your sleep?” he chuckled quietly. “Are you that cross with me?”

When they finally arrived at home, Kaveh's arms felt about ready to pop off. For a moment, he hovered in the living room, unsure of where to put Alhaitham down. After a moment of consideration, he carried him over to his room. Alhaitham’s room was more spacious after all.

As he stood before the bed, he found himself faced with a small problem. Alhaitham's grip on him was still fairly strong and Kaveh didn't want to wake him just yet, not after the stunt he just pulled at the House of Daena.

So he did the one thing he knew would work. Kaveh maneuvered the both of them onto the bed with as much care as humanly possible. His back cracked during the effort and he sent a quick prayer to the heavens, hoping he didn’t pull a nerve.

Normally, he'd never do this. Sure, he’d think about what it might be like to be in the same bed as Alhaitham, but he’d never act upon it. But it was only the two of them now, and their relationship was already strained. Something like this wouldn't do much except maybe embarrass them even further. Kaveh was tired of it all.

Finally, he had managed to turn himself just so he could let go of Alhaitham without jolting him awake. It was a bit difficult with the man still holding onto him, but Kaveh managed. He wedged his hands in-between Alhaitham's, creating a bit of space for him to move. He turned around, hands still on Alhaitham's arms, and was met with Alhaitham's face very close to his own.

Kaveh gulped. Curiously, he let his eyes roam over Alhaitham’s face. He was filled with the sudden need to trace his nose with gentle fingers. One hand started to wander as he fought the urge, looking for the little dip near Alhaitham's wrist where he was certain to find his pulse instead.It was a fluttering little thing, and he let out a breath of relief upon finding it.

Kaveh hated to admit it, but he was scared. Scared of change, scared of holding on just to be forced to let go again. Ever since his childhood, he'd been nothing but a force of destruction. Kaveh feared his own disastrous feelings would ruin Alhaitham just as they had done to so many before him.

For once, he pulled himself closer and let his eyes fall shut. Alhaitham's grip tightened and Kaveh let his head fall right into the gap between his shoulder and his neck.

And if there were tears staining Alhaitham's shirt, at least there was no one around to witness them fall. Alhaitham’s pulse, a delicate thing beneath Kaveh’s fingers, lulled him to sleep.

Kaveh didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep until he was awoken by movement.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled as he buried his head further into his pillow. That was until his pillow moved in a way a pillow definitely shouldn’t move.

“Kaveh,” a voice came from under him. It was a voice he knew far too well, so he opened one eye and was greeted by Alhaitham's chest right in his field of vision. He hadn't been sleeping on a pillow, after all. His head was nestled comfortably against Alhaitham's surprisingly soft chest.

“Alhaitham!” His eyes widened in shock and he quickly untangled himself from his roommate. “You're awake?! It’s not-”

“What it looks like? Yes, I thought as much.” Alhaitham pulled his knees close to his body and rubbed the skin behind his ears.

“Are you… okay?” Kaveh asked quietly. The distance between them was nauseating and he didn’t dare reach out.

“Don't ask me that. Don't bother,” Alhaitham forced out. His eyes were fixed on a set point of the wall. There was a dog barking outside, again and again and again and his skin was crawling. His fingers interlaced behind his neck and he took a deep breath, then exhaled audibly.

Kaveh reached out, but before he could reach him, Alhaitham recoiled. “Don't touch me.”

“Alhaitham.”

“No.”

“Alhaitham, I-”

“I said no.” He took another deep breath and avoided looking at Kaveh. “Why did you do that?”

“Do… what?” Kaveh asked despite knowing fully well what Alhaitham was referring to. It was too late to run from this conversation after all.

“You returned, brought me home, went to bed with me. Did it slip your mind or were you simply not listening when I said I don't want your charity? Or is leading people on perhaps a new hobby of yours?” There was a bitter tone hidden behind his words.

Kaveh pressed his lips together and considered his roommate for a moment, searching for the truth between the lines. Alhaitham was always so incredibly hard to read. He took another look at him, took note of his straight spine and unsteady hands.Then, something clicked. Kaveh practically jumped up and left the room with quick steps. Alhaitham turned his head to the side and said nothing. An expected wave of déjy-vu came crashing over him. He snapped out of it when suddenly, there was a voice next to his ear.

“Hold on,” Kaveh mumbled as he slipped Alhaitham's earpieces over his ears. He tried to flip them on, but couldn't find the right button. Alhaitham's hands rose to cover his, aiding him in finding the switch.

For a moment, he kept them there, eyes closed and his breathing finally calming as they breathed together. His hands were soft against his own and he didn’t mind the sensation.

“Better?” Kaveh asked when Alhaitham opened his eyes again. The man read his lips and slowly nodded before releasing Kaveh’s hands. After a few more minutes he pressed a few buttons on the side of his earpieces, adjusting the levels of noise cancelling once more.

The signs had been there, yet Kaveh had failed to pick up on them until he noticed Alhaitham’s state of unease. Kaveh had managed to peer past his meticulously crafted walls. Alhaitham looked overwhelmed and exhausted.

Before he could cringe at the thought, he forced out his next sentence. “I think we really need to talk.”

Alhaitham exhaled loudly and nodded. “We should.”

They sat down next to each other on the edge of the bed. The distance between them felt suffocating.

“So,” Kaveh started. “You like me.”

“Against better judgement, I do.” Kaveh watched him with expectant eyes and he sighed. “I am not delusional to my limits as a person, I know that this isn't anywhere near the realm of possibilities. I never thought so.” He knotted his hands together. “I didn't plan on telling you,.”

“Why did you even open your doors for me if I’d bring you nothing but heartbreak?” Kaveh asked, gaze on the ground.

“One could say you did make the house more lively.”

“Be honest with me.”

Alhaitham sighed and pushed his hair back. “It was the better alternative to not having you in my life at all. It was better than knowing you’re out there somewhere, struggling, refusing to ask for help. I wouldn’t have offered you half of my life if I didn’t want you here.”

“But why?”

Alhaitham moved closer and finally turned towards him. His eyebrows were pulled together. “You have this aggravating tendency to put everyone's needs before your own. How has that been treating you?”

Tears welled up in Kaveh's eyes. The memory of their last argument about the topic still stung. One fear was still present: What if this conversation would end the same way their previous one had?

“How dare you bring that up again,” he uttered. “And what about you?” he continued, voice shaky. “I don't see you putting yourself first either. You never even gave yourself a chance.”

“Should I have? You not talking to me and running off were pretty good indicators of why this wouldn't work.”

Kaveh glanced over at him. Slowly, he slid his hand over his, holding it tight.

“I-”

“Don't force yourself,” Alhaitham interjected, his hand solid as a rock under Kaveh’s.

“Ugh, would you just listen to me?! Who are you to decide what I’m feeling? I was afraid, okay?! There you have it, happy?”

Surprised, Alhaitham finally looked at him.

“You're crying?”

“I am so fucking terrified,” Kaveh admitted, wiping at his tears with his sleeve. “Of what this means, what it could mean for us. I don't want to lose you again. You're infuriating and arrogant and most of the time, you drive me up the wall. But I still-”

Slowly, Alhaitham reached up, wiping a tear away with a curious expression on his face. Kaveh pushed his cheek against his hand. A tear, shiny like a pearl, rolled down the back of Alhaitham’s hand.

“I still…”

“You are looking for someone loving, kind, yet you haven’t formally rejected me.” A statement voiced in confusion, not a question. “Your mind makes little sense to me.”

“As does yours. Did you know half of Sumeru city thinks we’re a couple?” Kaveh suddenly asked. His body was buzzing with anxiety.

“I was aware of the rumours,” Ahaitham answered nonchalantly, as if he’d known about the rumour ever since it’d come up the first time.

“You were?! Why didn't you say anything? And how can you be okay with that, when you're-” In love with me . The words got stuck in his throat.

“Why should I? Let them think what they want.”

“You- You’re infuriating. You are really infuriating and I am going to kiss you right now.” His eyes searched Alhaitham's. The man looked back at him, caught off guard. It took him a second before he recovered and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Will you now? I'll believe that once I see it.”

“You little brat. Don't you patronize me.”

Kaveh put his hands on Alhaitham, one gently against his chest, the other cradling his jaw. “Trust me, I will,” he uttered softly, his eyes never straying. With a tilt of his head, he closed the distance between them until there was no space to separate them left.

Alhaitham's lips were soft, pliable, and he kissed back with enthusiasm. He buried one hand in Kaveh's hair, running through the blonde tresses. Their lips slotted together, slowly and carefully. Kaveh pulled himself closer. It simply wasn’t enough. He needed more touch, more stimulation, more of Alhaitham pressed against his skin.

Alhaitham made a small noise and Kaveh pushed him back onto the bed. His back hit the mattress and Kaveh swung one leg over his body, straddling him once again. Alhaitham hugged his waist with one arm. His hand wandered and disappeared under the soft linen of Kaveh's shirt, tracing tight muscles and sharp shoulder blades.

Kaveh broke the kiss to let his lips wander from the corner of his mouth to his jaw down to Alhaitham's neck. First, he pressed an experimental kiss to the sensitive skin before mouthing at it, pulling the skin through his teeth and sucking softly. Kaveh was desperate to leave a mark, any kind of sign that this wasn't just a dream. With one hand, he pushed down Alhaitham's shirt to gain better access to his skin, while the other ran over his chest. Alhaitham shuddered beneath him.

“Kaveh…” he murmured.

His heart squeezed upon hearing his name leaving his roommate’s lips in that tone. He etched another mark into his skin before looking up. Alhaitham was watching him from under his lashes, his face flushed and breath heavy. For a moment, there was nothing but them, entangled in Alhaitham's bed. Kaveh felt tears prick at his eyes. He cradled Alhaitham's face and kissed him again. A soft whimper escaped his lips and Alhaitham pulled back to check up on him.

“Are you okay?”

Kaveh shook his head and buried his face in the crook of Alhaitham's neck.

Without saying another word, Alhaitham hugged him carefully and pressed a kiss to his head.

“Are you regretting this?” he asked reluctantly.

Kaveh shot up and Alhaitham pushed himself up into a sitting position as well, eyes flitting to the side. Kaveh was still straddling him, an unbelieving look on his face as he stared down his roommate.

“No!” he answered quickly. Alhaitham relaxed visibly. “I’m just… happy? Too happy maybe? I can't fully tell.”

“But you're crying.”

“And you're still trembling.”

Alhaitham wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer again. He brushed Kaveh's hair out of his face and ran his thumb over his cheekbone, then pushed it against Kaveh’s lips. Slowly, he leaned in closer and replaced his finger with his mouth, softly, carefully. It was so considerate Kaveh felt like he could burst into tears all over again.

“Tell me what this means,” he mumbled against his lips.

“Everything. It means everything.”

They parted again and Kaveh started tracing the sharp edges of Alhaitham's features, feathery touches from his temple down to his jaw. Shyly, he looked up at Alhaitham and took a deep breath. The words seemed to be stuck in his throat.

“Let's assume I say I like you,” he said. “What then?” He could feel his heartbeat accelerating.

“Let's assume I say I don't believe you. What would you do then?”

Kaveh furrowed his brows. “You're just trying to get me to kiss you again,” he concluded.

“Am I now?” A smile crept up on Alhaitham's face.

“You definitely are,” Kaveh shot back. “Have I ever told you that I find you incredibly insufferable?”

“Plenty of times. You’ll just have to put your hypothesis to the test then, maybe that will convince me,” Alhaitham replied and there was a drawl to his voice that Kaveh couldn't help but find both attractive and annoying.

He shut him up with his lips and felt the rumble of Alhaitham's laugh against his mouth. It was an infuriatingly attractive sound. Kaveh nipped at his lip in retaliation before pulling back again.

“Do you like riling me up this much?”

“Only when I’m getting something out of it.”

“I hate you.”

“Hate me all you want. That’s fine.”

“Hold on. No, it's not! When have you ever been the moderate type? You're alright with that? Okay then, what if I say I love you then? What about now?”

Alhaitham's eyes widened in surprise just as Kaveh's mouth fell open.

“Uhm-” He started to laugh awkwardly. “What I was trying to say was-”

“I can work with that,” Alhaitham replied, a rare smile on his lips. It sent a shiver down Kaveh's spine. “No complaints.” His grip on Kaveh's waist tightened before he pulled him down with him again. Kaveh searched for Alhaitham's hand, interlacing their fingers as he pinned it down next to his head and leaned down to capture his lips again.

This time, he wouldn't run or hide. Kaveh was desperate to stay right where he was, entangled with Alhaitham in his bedroom.

#genshin impact #kaveh x alhaitham #haikaveh #kavetham #my writing #fanfiction #at this point i dont even know if this is good or bad anymore i just know i can't read it anymore #*throws this your way* here fetch #angst #hurt/comfort #miscommunication #idiots in love #also sorry akim but fuck your concresoil commission that's why he got douchebagged

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aroacettorney · 8 months

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dont mind me. im simply just putting together a ludgercasey angst collection.

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#''why cant u be normal abt them'' how can i be normal abt them when solid 80% of their interactions is either angst or stemmed from angst.#even their ''fluff'' moments were also angst.#literally no one does angst like they do.#ludger prefers to keep most of his connections extremely impersonal/professional.#but whether or not he wants to admit it theirs on the other hand simply does not... fit in that category.#he'd even tried to convert it that way but it just didnt stick bc neither of them could help but be themselves around each other lmfao.#ludger is seemly still oblivious to caseys attempt to mend their personal relationship.#which is not too surprising considering he was also oblivious to the existence of their past relationship.#after all there was no reason for him to believe that casey would want to have anything to do with him. except maybe putting him in jail.#so pushing her away seems to be the most logical decision right? personal relationship is a luxury to him anyway.#alas casey who wanted to believe in their past friendship takes it as a sign that ludger has no interest in maintaining it.#she now has to take a step back because ''if you force a relationship it may become more estranged.''#so unless he takes the initiative they are likely stuck in this limbo.#(casey might use impersonal excuses to stay around but rn its all up to ludger to change the nature of their relationship)#casey girlie forget him i would have treated you so much better... is what i would have loved to say.#i wouldnt be suffering this much if ludger wasnt clearly holding himself back most of the time / if it was completely one-sided from casey.#i dont know if this is a slow burn or hurt no comfort but if casey gets no closure im gonna commit arson 😔#aro ludgercasey propaganda #selmore's undercover husband

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made-nondescript · 2 years

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it is so easy to portray fwhimmy as very lopsided on fwhip's part and it is however. it is so important to remember they are both so weird about each other, ok. you dont take out a hit on someone youre normal about. a shrine is a lot but so is attempted murder i think. additionally i just think jimmy deserves to be annoyingly into fwhip sometimes. ok. as a treat. if they were that fixated on each other when they hated each other why not have that carry over when they make up, just a bit

#i got possessed this morning and wrote the first part of Jimmy Isnt Normal About Fwhip: the fic #hoping that i can do what i want justice bc its not straight forward fluff but its not angst or hurt/comfort #its just like. these guys are weird about each other. thats all #is it problematic? probably! im not their therapist tho god bless #fwhip probably wont even be in it its jimmy focused <3333 my meow meow #world building. to me #empiresshipping #straight up dont even know if i am making sense i am. Very tired but also caffeinated its like a ring of hell #but such is finals week

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luescris · 2 years

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Somebody tell me the reason why the tmnt characters have to go through so much

Out of all of the fandoms that I have ever been in, this one has the most amount of angst that I have ever seen. And it's not just the fact that it's in every universe, that there's a wide expanse of characters. It's the fact that it's the same characters over and over again, just with different looks, different stories, and yet they still go through so much shit no matter what. And the worst part is that through every universe, no matter what, Leo just has to get sacrificed. Not trying to make the post about him, but that's just a very wide example of my point.

Like I could write a whole essay on all the shit the IDW turtles have--and still are for that matter--going through. I haven't caught up in a while and quite frankly I don't know if I want to at this point with the glimpses I've seen of what's happening to Donnie right now.

Is there a point to them going through so much?? Why do they get put through so much? I love them to death and I love angst but sometimes it's like. It's like it's almost too much when I overthink it and I actually get angry/upset. Am I the only one??

Legit I have three different Rise!Leo-centric fics bookmarked in my A03 (Including Every Night the Longest Day. That recent chapter made me fucking sob and is mainly why I am making this post augh) and I'm just. Is there any popular Mikey-centric fics?? Any popular Raph or Donnie- centric fics???? Hell is there even any fics for any universe that's simply just the boys being happy and full of fluff and comfort??? Because god yes I love angst but you guys seriously go all out and half the time I'm just staring at my phone screen like. what. the fuck

The boys deserve to be happy too They have enough going on as it is istg 😭😭

Mutant Mayhem Turtles better NOT be touched they look too freaking innocent pl e a se let them be okay

#aaaaaa this sound /neg #i dont even know if it is. i love the turtles so much. but this angst it hurts. but i also get myself jnto these situations. hhhhhhh #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #ninja turtles #nick #nickalodeon #nickelodeon #come on guys i need a break seriously. where's all my comfort/fluff fics aaa #random #random post #semi rant #my stuff #luescris

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pygmi-says-hi · 8 days

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STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!

Bleeding:

Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.

It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.

Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.

blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.

it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.

Stab wounds:

I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.

also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.

if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)

whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites

Concussion:

despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.

if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.

Fever:

you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.

ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:

sluggishness

seizures (severe)

inability to speak clearly

feeling chilly/shivering

nausea

pain

delirium

symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.

ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.

fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.

keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you

ALSO I FORGOT LEMME ADD ON:

YOU DIE AT 85F

sorry I forgot. at that point for a sustained period of time you're too cold to survive.

pt 2

#writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writblr #how to write #fiction writing #for writers #on writing #writing stuff #writer life

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allylikethecat · 1 year

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So a while back a nice anon sent me a smut prompt list and asked if I would be willing to fill any of them. Because I am a perpetual people pleaser I said sure, reblogged it, and then people sent some prompts my way. I am not a smut writer. I am not good at it, which is funny considering how much spicy literature I consume both in terms of fanfiction and in books - I am literally the "Spicy Tok" expert at my store. I wish I was good at it, and I am trying really, really, really hard (ha) BUT I know my strengths and writing smut is not one of them. However, I also don't know when to quit and back down from a challenge so I will be posting that first smut prompt fill tomorrow - I just ask please be kind and don't judge me too harshly or make fun of me too much - I really did try 😂

#allylikethecat #the ally status update no one asked for #prompt fills #smut prompt fills #smut prompts #please dont judge my writing too harshly i promise i tried #i know im not good at it and i am not pretending to be #but it was a new challenge and i was excited to attempt it #there are a lot of awesome people who can and will do this better than me #but the nice anons sent them my way so i am trying #pain suffering angst and hurt comfort is more my wheelhouse #but this was a learning experience #just because you can read spicy material #and take part in spicy activities as an adult in your real life #does not mean you can write spice hahaha #the one and only other time i tried to write and post something remotely spicy #someone left the bookmark note “great build up sub par porn”#and that traumatized me haha #and gave me even more a complex than i already had #keep it kind

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taeghi · 2 months

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your little brother, my little secret | teaser

FULL RELEASE : READ HERE

yn and joy share every secret, until yn returns from university to find joy's little brother jake has become irresistibly hot. maybe keeping just one secret from your best friend won't hurt… right?

PAIRING : best friends little brother!jake x reader

GENRE : smut & angst. jake's (shy) a sub for majority of it. dirty talk, masturbation, degrading + humiliation, & y/n is a menace.

WC : 14k

TAGLIST : ????? (if ur on my perm taglist u dont need to comment) <3

mdni

you’ve been counting down the days until summer for what feels like forever. you’re returning to your hometown for the entire two months you have until university starts again in september.

you’ve been driving for miles now, just having to go to a university two hours away from your small hometown. but the summer air is thick and humid, and it blows throughout the car as all the windows are down.

your best friend, joy, sits beside you. you’ve known her for just as long as she has moved into your small town when you both were ten. since then, you’ve shared everything together; every laugh, every tear… every secret. her family feels like your own, summers spent in their backyard, evenings filled with board games and cards. some nights in high school even included sneaking out to a party and drinking until you thought you’d throw up.

last summer was different. you were abroad doing an internship for university. and you didn’t get a chance to stay long during christmas break. so, it’s been a while since you’ve actually stayed in your hometown with all its familiarities.

“jake will be home when we get there,” joy says, loud enough to be heard over the wind and faint music.

“oh right, how’s he liking university?”

jake is joy’s little brother. he’s always been shy, introverted, prefers to stay home and play video games instead of going out like you and joy. you remember him as a cute kid, all wide eyed and shy smiles. you don’t remember him having much friends, he’d rather be alone in his room. it’s hard for you to imagine him navigating the crowded university, but you suppose he’s all grown up now. it’s been so long since you’ve seen him, and the thought of how much he changed lingers in your mind.

“he likes it,” joy says, her long black hair blowing out the window, “he’s excited for summer like we are.”

you nodded in response, thinking maybe jake would go out with you guys now instead of playing video games in his room all summer.

“we gotta go to hyunjin’s this week!” joy declares, her eyes lighting with anticipation, “you know he’s throwing a big party this week. and then, there’s that new bar that opened downtown. we have to check it out!”

you agree with joy. her energy is infectious despite her brash (sometimes too brash) exterior. joy has always been more straightforward and perhaps blunt than you are. when sometimes you can be a people pleaser and a pushover, joy is there to say the words you wish you could say.

“i can’t wait,” you reply, “it’s been too long since we’ve had a proper night out.”

joy shoots you a mischievous grin, her confidence unwavering, “oh trust me, yn. this summer, we’re going all out.”

you roll your eyes at your pretty best friend, pulling into her family’s driveway swiftly.

you and joy step through the front door of the house, a place that is more familiar and comforting than your own. the place smells like a home cooked meal and you are instantly greeted with joy’s parents’ smiles. joy’s mother envelops you in a hug, her warmth and kindness instantly easing any fatigue from the long drive.

"oh, yn, joy, it's so good to see you both!" joy's mother exclaims, her smile radiant. "dinner will be ready shortly. you must be exhausted after the drive. please, sit down in the living room and relax."

joy's father joins in, his jovial voice filling the room. "how was the trip? traffic wasn't too bad, i hope?" her parents' genuine concern and hospitality are a stark contrast to your own parents.

"it was fine, dad," joy replies, her tone affectionate yet tinged with a hint of impatience. "we're just glad to be home for the summer."

you smile over your shoulder at her parents as she drags you to the living room. it looks the same as you remember it; comfy fabric couch, family photos on the walls, lit candles around the room that mix with the smell of dinner.

joy props her feet up on the coffee table as she starts to scroll her phone. a nonchalant smile plays on her lips, “can’t believe we’re back here.” she says with a sigh.

before you can respond, a sudden noise draws your attention towards the backdoor. two figures emerge, their arms swaying as they laugh and push each other.

“hey guys,” joy's casual greeting halts their antics momentarily, but it's the sight of you on the couch that freezes one of the boys in his tracks. he stands there, awkward and unsure.

the other boy remains cool and confident as he greets joy and walks over to you both on the couch. he stands in front of you, sticking his hand out in front of your face, “i’m heeseung.”

you look up at him as he stands, his features are chiseled. his eyes are a deep shade of brown. his smile is almost cocky, but disarming as he flashes it effortlessly. there’s an aura of assurance about him, that he knows he’s good looking and he’s confident about it.

your hand meets his, “i’m y/n.” your eyes flicker back to the boy who remains rooted to the spot, his expression unreadable as he almost quiets away into the wall.

“are you gonna come hug your sister, jake?” joy squeaks from beside you, she octaves her voice higher to be annoying on purpose.

it’s then that you realize who is standing there in the corner– you almost didn’t recognize him.

the shy, nerdy kid you once knew is now standing before– transformed in a way that catches you off guard. where once stood a lanky teenager, now stands a man that is toned and tanned. his hair is longer and tousled in a way that accentuates his features. he’s taller and broader.

as you take in his appearance, you can’t help but be struck by how insanely hot he has become.

he shifts nervously, perhaps sensing your gaze. his eyes turn to joy, “no way in hell am i hugging you.”

joy's mother breezes into the room with a warm smile, "oh jake, give your sister a hug."

joy springs up instantly, tackling jake in a bear hug that's both affectionate and overly enthusiastic. jake groans, awkwardly patting joy's back as everyone chuckles. heeseung, settles down next to you, a confident smirk playing on his lips, his eyes holding a hint of nothing other than flirtatious.

"right, yn," joy's mother continues, her tone gentle yet teasing, "heeseung here has been keeping jake entertained since you left."

heeseung chimes in, his voice dripping with sarcasm and humor. "yeah, we're inseparable now," he says with a grin.

you laugh, unable to resist teasing. "oh really? i remember jake having no friends at all."

joy joins in, her laughter ringing through the room. "seriously, all he did was stay in his room playing video games."

"be nice, girls," she says playfully. "joy, come help me with dinner. set up a place for heeseung, too."

heeseung stands up with a mock bow. "don't worry, i'll set up my own place."

joy groans at having to help, leaving you and jake alone in the living room, complaining about why she has to help but jake doesn’t.

jake settles into the chair directly across you, but his body language shows he’s tense and restless and it suggests that he’d rather be anywhere else. he fidgets slightly, fingers rolling over each other in his lap, his eyes darting around the room and avoiding you.

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #jake #jake enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen x reader smut #enhypen fic #smut #enha #enhypen fanfiction #jake x reader smut #jake x reader enhypen #jake x reader enhypen smut

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daegall · 9 months

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☆ macrocosm

➷ in which Luke would send you the sun and every asteroid, and you'd send him the moon and the stars.

pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slight angst, established relationship!AU

warnings: one tiny injury, some cheesiness, and um issues with parents? also reader is implied to be female!!

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: hi all!!! my first time (and probably last LOL) time writing anything pjo :000 unless my brainrot gets bigger, i think this is the only thing i will only release, I hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry if I made any mistakes!! dont hesitate to tell me if i did or if i forgot to add a warning ^^ have a great day and merry late christmas!!!

Luke Castellan is a great source of your happiness.

Whether it be bringing you a small snack while you work endlessly in the infirmary, or sitting there with you, waiting for you to finally be free of work to finally have a chat with you, with the biggest smile on his lips.

Or it could be from how he always strives to protect you, jumping right in the middle of an attack during capture the flag.

"I can handle myself, Luke." You'd tell him.

He believes you. Every bit of his being believes you. You're amazing with a sword, even more with a bow. Yet something in him pushes him to shield you from any form of danger.

Even when you feel the need to be annoyed at him, in the slightest. His sheepish, almost apologetic smile he gives you pulls at your heartstrings, like a magnet. To be honest, you'd surrender your entire being for him, you'd send him the moon and the stars if he asked you to. You just love him too much.

However, Luke Castellan is also sometimes (never) a pain in your ass.

Such as now, as he once again, shoots you a sheepish smile as he shows up at the entrance of the infirmary.

"What are you doing here?" You question him instantly. Although you have a rough scrunch in your eyebrows, and your arms are crossed, Luke knows you like the back of his hand.

The way your fingers fiddle lightly with the loose string of your orange T-shirt shows how you're genuinely worried, and there's just the slightest curl at your lips that he catches.

Luke pouts at you. You ought to punch him at how cute he looks.

"What? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?"

You scoff, but don't distance yourself from him when he walks forward to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not when I'm pretty sure you have counselor duties,"

Warmth spreads through you, a familiar, nostalgic one. Such as a warm home, or a campfire, it ripples through your soul and body, as Luke's fingertips caress you gently.

"I got hurt," He replies simply.

As expected, his words cause you to pull away almost immediately, your hands cupping around his cheeks softly, as you tilt his head to check every surface of his skin.

Although Luke hates making you worry, he adores the way you care for him.

With a sly smirk, Luke raises his index finger slowly, watching as your eyes trail from his own, to his hand, and finally, the small cut on his finger.

In an instant, you push Luke away playfully, huffing in relief. "You idiot! I thought you were hurt!"

"But you don't understand," He sighs dramatically. Your lips curl up from his overexaggerated sad expression, holding a hand to his heart. "how much my heart hurts when I'm away from you,"

With a roll of your eyes, you step away from your boyfriend, walking to the other side of the infirmary to grab a bandaid. Luke follows you, as if a magnet, watching and admiring your every move.

He watches as you unwrap the bandaid, adores you as you wrap it around his finger carefully, and if he could, he would praise you as you place a small kiss on top of it. Praise you more than he's ever praised to his father, or any other god.

"Better?"

And when he looks in your eyes, he sees his whole universe. Doesn't matter if he's a human, or half god, or if the whole mystical world existed in the universe. As long as it had you, he knew he'd yearn for it for eternity.

And suddenly, there's a flicker. Luke doesn't know how he notices it, not when it's there for only the slightest moment, but he doesn't care.

You're sad.

Another great thing about your great boyfriend, he loves to comfort you.

His fingers caress lightly at the skin of your cheek, frowning worriedly. "Are you okay?"

You're surprised at his attention to the smallest details, confusion evident on your face. "How did you—"

"—I just know, baby," He chuckles. "now tell me, are you okay?"

You can't explain it. But you try, for Luke. You'd do anything for him.

"My dad," You start. This time, it's Luke's heartstrings that are pulled dangerously at. He knows how complicated your relationship with your dad is—hell, everyone at camp has a complicated relationship with their God parent!

Luke's thumb strokes your cheek dearly, urging you to continue.

"He... visited my sibling? I guess? I mean, not directly but, yeah,"

You are a person who's strong, who's always put together, even more so when you have to take care of people every day. Seeing you so... hurt, so vulnerable and weak, Luke wants to curse at Apollo himself, but knows better. He's not worth it. You, however, Luke will stay and wait forever for.

"He visited my brother in a dream. They had a whole conversation, caught up, and I'm happy for him, I am! I just—" You can't keep your lip from wobbling, your heart shaking just at the thought of what your brother had told the whole cabin just this morning.

They were all happy, so were you, asking him countless questions and eager to know how their father is doing, but you can't help but feel jealous.

Luke nods in understanding as you tell him this.

"I mean, he visits my brother, has a whole conversation with him all night in his dream... and he can barely spare a single word for me? What, not even a sign the he cares, that he's here?"

And when tears cascade down your cheek, Luke wants to destroy Olympus with his own bare hands. Maybe for another day, for now, he'll coo and bring you into his embrace, stroking at your back affectionately.

"It's okay baby, it's just me. Let it all out,"

Pent up stress from the week, added with your jealousy and confusion results in a full sob into your lover's shoulder, as he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear.

"I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Your soul cleanses from the hatred and envy, replaced with the love and care that Luke provides, feeling safety and solace in his embrace alone.

"I'm sorry for burdening you like this,"

Luke's heart nearly physically cracks at your words, even more at your defeated eyes peering up at him.

He shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "Don't be sorry, baby," He mumbles, before pressing another kiss to your cheeks, pecking away your tears. "you could never burden me."

Finally, immense joy and love resonates through you, as it radiates off Luke and onto you, like the sun shines its rays onto earth, you feel complete with him.

"Thank you," You breathe out, staring into Luke's eyes with the most gratitude and love. And once again, he sees those eyes. The eyes that hold his universe, the eyes he'd yearn for forever. And when he leans down to connect your lips in a soft, loving kiss, he knows he will yearn them forever.

You'd send the moon and all the stars his way.

Luke would go to hell and back for you, he'd destroy Olympus for you. He'd be your sun and every asteroid, and you his moon and stars. Together, you'd have your own little universe, just for the two of you. Doesn't matter if you're human, or demigod, as long as he has you, and you have him, it'll forever be complete.

#luke castellan imagines #pjo series #luke castellan #luke pjo #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #luke pjo x reader #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan fluff

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mononijikayu · 28 days

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amnesia — ryomen sukuna.

“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.” You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: sfw, fluff, angst, romance, hurt/ comfort, post - break up, amnesia, hurt, physical touch, memory loss, sadness, pain, pining, slowly getting back together, light-hearted, happy ending, getting back together, depictions of amnesia, depiction of pining, mention of grief, mention of accident, mention of pining, ex-boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! ex-girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 9.9k words

NOTE: the entire chapter is a sequel to drunk tonight and is set five years later. sukuna won second place at the poll again and i feel like this is my apology for sukuna for always making him an angst main lead. this was inspired by a filipino film called amnesia girl and its a funny drama-romcom. its available on youtube, but i dont know if there's subtitles!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy this and i hope you know how much i love yall 🫶🫶🫶

ADDENDUM: so......so long sukuna??? (manga readers iykyk)

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 1000;

if you want to, tip!

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

HE LIKED TO THINK HE COUNTED THE HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN WELL. Five long and painful years ago, you and Sukuna parted ways in what felt like an explosion of unresolved emotions and unmet expectations. Your relationship had been a tempestuous blend of fiery passion and constant turbulence, a rollercoaster of intense highs and devastating lows. From the beginning, it was clear that both of you had strong personalities, often clashing in ways that seemed impossible to reconcile.

The reasons for the breakup were numerous and complex. There was the perpetual danger that came with Sukuna's world, a constant reminder that you were living on the edge, with no guarantee of safety or stability. His life was fraught with peril, and the reality of that danger had taken its toll on both of you. You both knew that living under such stress was unsustainable, and it began to fray the bonds that had once held you together.

Your expectations, too, weighed heavily on the relationship. You had dreams and aspirations that seemed at odds with the life you were leading alongside Sukuna. The demands of his world often overshadowed your own needs, leading to a sense of neglect and disillusionment. It felt as though you were always putting yourself second, trying to accommodate the chaos that was Sukuna's life while struggling to maintain your own sense of self.

Despite the chaos and the inevitable breakdown, there was an undeniable connection between you—a bond that neither of you could completely sever. It was a connection that defied logic, a thread that seemed to pull you back together despite all efforts to move on. Both of you had tried to let go, to walk away and start anew, but the lingering feelings and shared history made it nearly impossible to fully break free.

Sukuna, in his own way, struggled with this as well. Even though the relationship had reached its breaking point, he found himself unable to completely let go of what you had shared. He was deeply aware of the toll that the relationship had taken on you, and he knew that you needed to prioritize yourself, your own well-being, and your own path forward. It was a painful realization, one that left him feeling hollow and lost, but he was determined not to be the reason you couldn't move forward.

In his mind, letting you go was the only way to truly show his love for you—to give you the space you needed to heal and grow. Even if it meant enduring his own misery, he accepted that it was a sacrifice he had to make. He knew that holding on would only serve to drag you both down further, and he wasn't willing to be the obstacle in your pursuit of happiness.

So, as time passed and the separation became a part of your history, Sukuna endured his own internal struggle. He remained in the shadows of your life, silently wishing for your happiness while grappling with his own feelings of loss and regret. He respected your decision and tried to move forward, even as he kept a part of himself tied to the memories of what once was.

But even then, you were truly something that made his life more than it was. You were the blossoms of his youth, the hope and vibrancy that had once colored his world. Your presence had breathed life into the mundane, transforming his days from mere existence into something filled with possibility and wonder.

His elder brother Jin had seen it all those years ago, recognizing the profound impact you had on Sukuna. Jin had often remarked on how you were a beacon of hope, a light that guided Sukuna through the darkest corners of his life. Your influence was undeniable, a force that had shaped him in ways he could hardly articulate.

Yet despite the depth of his feelings and the significance of what you had shared, Sukuna couldn’t escape the gnawing belief that he had ultimately failed you. He carried with him the heavy burden of the notion that he wasn’t good enough—never had been, never would be. The weight of this conviction was a constant companion, a shadow that loomed over every thought and action.

He remembered the countless moments of doubt, the times when he felt that his flaws, his imperfections, and the dangers of his world were too great a burden for you to bear. It was a painful realization, one that left him grappling with feelings of inadequacy. He wanted to be the person who could give you everything you deserved—love, stability, safety. But he feared that he fell short, that he could never truly be the partner you needed.

Even as he watched you move forward, find your own path, and build a life without him, he was haunted by the belief that he had let you down. He was acutely aware of all the ways he had failed to meet your expectations, to protect you from the chaos that had once defined your life together. He thought that perhaps he had been too caught up in his own struggles, too consumed by the demands of his world to fully appreciate what he had with you.

In his quieter moments, Sukuna wrestled with the idea that he would never be good enough for you, that he would never be able to offer you the kind of love and life you truly deserved. This belief became a part of him, shaping how he viewed himself and how he measured his worth. He felt that he had lost you not because of any one mistake or shortcoming, but because he was fundamentally flawed, incapable of providing the kind of relationship you needed.

And so, even as he grappled with his own pain and regrets, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were better off without him. The memory of what you had shared lingered like a bittersweet echo, a reminder of what could have been and what was lost. He had to come to terms with the fact that he might never be able to offer you the life you deserved, and that acceptance was a hard, painful lesson he had to learn.

Sukuna's struggle with these feelings was a testament to the depth of his love for you, a love that, despite its imperfections and its failures, had once been a source of profound meaning and transformation in his life. Even as he moved forward, he carried the weight of this truth with him—a reminder of what you had meant to him and the painful realization that, perhaps, he would never truly be good enough to have you back.

Sukuna sat in the corner of the room, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, as he listened to his friend's banter. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in years. Gojo, with his usual grin, was recounting some ridiculous tale of his latest escapade, while Uraume, ever the quiet observer, occasionally chimed in with dry comments that had the others laughing.

But Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention. His mind kept drifting back to you—to the way your eyes had softened when you told him you wanted to give “us” a real chance, to the way you’d leaned into him, trusting and vulnerable in a way that made his chest tighten.

“Oi, Sukuna. You’re….” Gojo’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, bud. What's got you all broody, huh?”

Sukuna blinked, realizing he’d been staring into his glass for who knows how long. He knows he spaces out when he’s thinking, but when he’s thinking of you — he suppose the time can go on and he wouldn’t even notice. He looked up to find Gojo’s bright blue eyes fixed on him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Uraume was watching him too, their expression unreadable but attentive.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Sukuna muttered, taking a sip of his drink. “Just thinking.”

“That’s a first from you, hm.” Uraume teased, earning a snort from Gojo.

“Come on, spill it!” Gojo pressed, leaning forward with that infuriatingly playful grin. “Is it a girl? I don’t mind if it’s a guy, I know you swing that way too! Oh, wait… don’t tell me it’s the girl.”

Sukuna’s dark scarlet eyes narrowed at him. “What are you talking about?”

Gojo’s grin widened. “The one you’ve been moping about for the last five years. Don’t think I didn’t notice, Sukuna. You’ve been different at work lately—quieter, more… I don’t know, introspective.”

“Gojo–san’s right, Sukuna–san.” Uraume added, their tone softer. “You’ve changed. It’s like you’re finally letting go of whatever it was that had you so wound up.”

Sukuna leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of their words settle over him. He wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of their scrutiny, and he didn’t like it. But he also knew they weren’t wrong.

“Yeah, well……” Sukuna began, his voice rough, “I haven't seen her in a long while.. Five years, I think. But I heard…I heard she’s been around. She’s moved around town.”

Uraume raised their eyebrows. “Five years? That’s a long time, Sukuna–san.”

“Yeah. We were together throughout our senior high school and college. Then we broke up after we graduated.” Sukuna sighed, taking a long sip of his drink. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat, but it did little to ease the ache that had settled in his chest. “It’s been a long time, but… hearing that she’s moved here just brings back a lot.”

Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Was that breakup really that bad?” His usual grin faded, replaced by a look of concern as he sensed the gravity of Sukuna’s words. “What happened?”

Sukuna nodded, his gaze drifting away from Gojo’s intense stare. The room seemed to grow quieter as he delved into the past, the weight of his memories heavy in his voice. “We had multiple breakups. It wasn’t just one—there were several. But the last one was particularly rough. We both cried a lot, said things we didn’t mean. It was messy.”

Gojo leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Why was it so difficult?”

Sukuna’s face tightened as he struggled to find the right words. “If I’m being honest, it’s my fault. I wasn’t secure in myself. I was jealous, possessive. I couldn’t handle the idea of her moving forward or being happy without me. And that jealousy, that insecurity—it hurt her more than I realized.”

There was a long pause as Sukuna’s confession hung in the air. Gojo’s usual bravado was replaced by a rare, contemplative silence. He took a moment to process Sukuna’s admission, trying to reconcile the man he knew with the vulnerability being revealed.

“That’s a lot to carry,” Gojo said finally, his voice softer than usual. “But it sounds like you’re taking responsibility, which is more than a lot of people do.”

Sukuna’s expression was a mix of regret and acceptance. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t change the past. I know I hurt her, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that fully. But seeing her again… it’s brought everything back. The pain, the regret, and the memories of what we had.”

Uraume, who had been quietly listening, spoke up, their tone gentle. “It’s clear you’re still affected by this. Maybe it’s a chance for you to make things right, or at least find some closure. People change, and sometimes, revisiting the past can help us understand ourselves better.”

Sukuna nodded, though his expression remained somber. “Maybe. I’m not sure what will come of this. I just know that seeing her again made me realize how much I still care, how much I’ve changed, and how much I wish things could have been different.”

Gojo leaned back, his eyes thoughtful. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, and maybe this is a chance for you to show her the person you’ve become. It might not fix everything, but it could be a step toward healing—for both of you.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe. It’s worth a shot.”

The room fell silent, the playful atmosphere dissolving as the weight of Sukuna's words sank in. Even Gojo, who was usually quick with a joke or a teasing remark, seemed at a loss for what to say. His usual bravado was replaced with something more thoughtful, almost solemn, as he processed what Sukuna had just revealed.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft clink of ice in Sukuna's glass as he set it down on the table. He could feel the eyes of his friends on him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the drink, not ready to meet their concerned looks just yet. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken emotions.

“I hope the best for you, man.” Gojo finally muttered, leaning back in his chair as he exhaled slowly. His tone was softer than usual, lacking its typical teasing edge. “You deserve to be happy too.”

Sukuna snickered. “You must be drunk being this nice to me.”

“Hey! I am nice at all times.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Uraume, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward slightly, their expression gentle and understanding. They had always been more in tune with Sukuna's moods, more aware of the nuances in his behavior than Gojo, who often masked his own sensitivity with humor.

“If you bump into her again, though….” Uraume asked, their tone devoid of judgment, only curiosity and concern. “Would you try and talk to her, then?”

Sukuna finally looked up, meeting Uraume’s gaze. There was a hesitance in his eyes, as if he was still grappling with the reality of it all. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low, almost as if admitting it aloud made it more real. “I would. In a drop of a hat.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all the unspoken feelings that had built up over the years. It wasn’t just the fact that you had come back into his life; it was the realization that despite everything, despite the time and distance, Ryomen Sukuna had never really let go of you. He had buried those feelings deep, tried to move on, but now that you were here again, they had all come rushing back to the surface.

Gojo watched Sukuna carefully, his usual smirk gone, replaced with a rare expression of empathy. He knew Sukuna better than most, knew how much pride had always driven him, how hard it had been for him to admit his feelings even when things were good between the two of you. For Sukuna to open up like this now, it meant that whatever he was feeling ran deep.

“I get it.” Gojo said, his voice unusually quiet. “I mean, you guys were… well, you were everything to each other. It makes sense that she’s still on your mind.”

Uraume nodded in agreement. “It’s not surprising that you still think about her, Sukuna–san. What you had wasn’t just something you can forget, even if you wanted to.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring off into the distance as if trying to collect his thoughts. “It’s just… weird.” he finally said, his voice thick with the frustration he’d been holding back. “I’ve been trying to move on, to put all of that behind me. But I just….I want to see her again. Even just one more time.”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded Sukuna with a serious expression. “Maybe you’re not supposed to forget, man. Maybe this is your chance to figure out what you really want, to make things right.”

Uraume added quietly, “It’s not too late to change the narrative, Sukuna. If you still care about her, if she’s still on your mind after all this time, maybe there’s something there worth exploring.”

Sukuna closed his eyes for a moment, taking in their words. There was truth in what they were saying, and he knew it. He had spent so long trying to bury his feelings, convincing himself that it was over and done with. But the truth was, he had never truly moved on. And now, with you back in his life, even in this new, unfamiliar way, he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward you.

When he opened his eyes, there was a resolve in them that hadn’t been there before. “You’re probably right.” he admitted, his voice steady. “I’ve been running from this for too long. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need to see this through. I owe it to myself, and… to her.”

Gojo’s grin returned, but it was softer, more genuine. “That’s the spirit, man. You’ve got this. Just… don’t screw it up this time, okay?”

Sukuna let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ll try not to.”

Uraume smiled softly, a rare display of emotion from them. “We’re here for you, Sukuna–san. Whatever you need, just say the word.”

Sukuna nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t alone in this. With Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he could face whatever came next, even if it meant confronting the feelings he had buried for so long.

One more drink and the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, the tension that had hung in the air slowly dissipated. But the resolve in Sukuna’s heart remained, stronger than ever. He knew what he had to do, and for the first time in years, he felt ready to face it head-on,

As the night wore on, Sukuna couldn’t help but think about the future—about what it would be like to build something real with you this time, something lasting. The thought scared him, but it also excited him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Maybe, just maybe, this time he could get it right. And with Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he wouldn’t have to do it alone. But the hour is late. And they’ve got things going on in their lives too. So they pay their bills and wave him goodbye.

As he watches his comrades pair off, he is forced to confront a painful truth. Despite years of searching, no one has been able to replace you. The women he's met, the flings he's had—they were all distractions, mere shadows compared to what he had with you. Each time he tries to move forward, your memory pulls him back, the echo of your laughter, the way you challenged him like no one else ever did, and the warmth you once brought into his life, all refuse to fade.

In quiet moments, when he's alone, Ryomen Sukuna wrestles with the possibility that his true love, the one person who could truly understand and match his intensity, might have been you all along. The very thought frustrates and angers him, but deep down, he knows it's true. The idea that you could be happy with someone else, that you could have moved on, is a bitter pill to swallow.

But what can he do? Could he really go back to you after all this time, after all the hurt and pride that kept you apart? The thought of reaching out, of admitting that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you, is terrifying in its vulnerability. Yet, the more he tries to resist, the more he finds himself wanting you back in his life.

Sukuna has always been a man of action, but this...this is different. It's not about power or control; it's about something far more fragile—his heart, his pride, and the chance of losing you all over again. The question that haunts him now is whether he can swallow that pride and take the risk, whether he can open himself up to the possibility that, just maybe, what he’s been searching for all these years was right in front of him all along.

And that possibility, terrifying as it may be, is the only thing that has ever truly scared him.

Sukuna's inner turmoil grows as the days pass. The world around him, once filled with the thrill of battles and the allure of endless conquests, now feels hollow and cold. He notices how his friends look at him, their eyes reflecting pity and concern. They know him too well, aware that behind his sharp words and defiant attitude, something is eating away at him.

He tries to brush it off, burying himself in work, in fights, in anything that will distract him. But no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts keep circling back to you. The memories come unbidden—your smile, the way you used to tease him, the way you understood him in a way no one else ever did. It's maddening, the way you haunt him, and yet he can't bring himself to let you go.

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IT WAS UNEXPECTED. It was that sort of day once again. Sukuna found himself in charge of his energetic nephew, Yuji, who had just been picked up from school. With his brother Jin and sister-in-law Kaori and Choso tied up with commitments for the weekend, Sukuna was left to manage Yuji. Given that he didn’t have to hit the gym or deal with work obligations that day, it seemed like a manageable task.

Ryomen Sukuna’s house was usually a quiet refuge from his chaotic world, but today it felt oddly empty. He doesn’t really like decorating that much, mostly because he has no time and mostly because he really doesn’t feel like it. But his nephew doesn’t seem to mind it every time he’s here. If there was something to distract the brat, then he doesn’t pay attention to everything else. Well, that and food. As he settled Yuji into the living room, Yuji’s curiosity quickly turned to hunger.

“Uncle Sukuna, I’m starving.” Yuji announced, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Do you have any natto? I could really go for some.”

Sukuna blinked, momentarily confused. “Natto? I don’t think I have any. Let me check.”

He shuffled into the kitchen, opening the fridge and peering inside. His search yielded nothing but a few cans of expired beans and a half-eaten pizza box. Sukuna eats out most of the time, because of work. If he does buy anything, it would be from the last time Yuji was here. And that was….a while ago. And just as much, there was no natto in sight.

“Uh, brat, I think we’re out of natto.” Sukuna said, returning to the living room with a sheepish grin. “And it looks like the rest of the fridge is pretty bare.”

Yuji’s eyes widened in disappointment. “But I was really looking forward to it!”

Sukuna rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Looks like we’ll need to go out for groceries. How about we make it an adventure?”

Yuji’s face lit up at the prospect of an outing. “Okay! Can we get some ice cream too?”

Sukuna chuckled, relieved that Yuji’s mood had brightened. “Sure, ice cream it is. Let’s get going before your hunger turns into a full-blown meltdown, brat.”

As they left the house, Sukuna and Yuji made their way to the nearby supermarket. Yuji’s excitement was palpable, his small hands gripping the shopping cart handle as he eagerly pointed out various items he wanted to add to the list. Sukuna, trying to keep up, found himself both amused and exasperated by Yuji’s relentless energy and enthusiasm.

In the aisles of the supermarket, Sukuna pushed the cart while Yuji darted from one section to another, collecting snacks, fruits, and—of course—several packs of natto. Sukuna grabbed a few essentials and, true to his word, added some ice cream to the cart.

As they approached the checkout line, Sukuna glanced at Yuji, who was happily munching on a sample cookie from the store. The small bit of chocolate on Yuji’s cheek made him look even more cherubic and endearing. Sukuna’s lips twitched into a small smile, a rare moment of warmth slipping through his usually stoic facade.

“You know, I think I might need to keep a better stock of food for next time,” Sukuna said, his tone light.

Yuji, still with cookie crumbs on his face, grinned up at him. “And more natto!”

Sukuna couldn’t help but chuckle. The idea of having to stockpile natto just to keep his nephew happy was a new one, but it seemed like a worthwhile endeavor. He ruffled Yuji’s hair affectionately, feeling a soft, genuine affection for the boy.

��You’ve got it, brat. More natto it is.” Sukuna agreed, a rare, relaxed smile on his face.

As they loaded their groceries onto the conveyor belt, Sukuna glanced around, realizing how normal and mundane the experience was compared to the high-stakes, dangerous life he usually led. The simplicity of shopping for food and sharing a lighthearted moment with Yuji was both refreshing and oddly comforting.

Yuji, ever the energetic child, started pointing out items in the store with increasing enthusiasm. “Uncle Sukuna, look! They have those gummy candies you like!”

Sukuna gave a half-hearted, amused shrug. “Sure, toss them in. I guess I can indulge a bit today.”

As they made their way through the aisles, Yuji chatted away, filling the silence with stories about school and his friends. Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention, his mind elsewhere, when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

There, at the end of the aisle, stood a familiar figure. The sight stopped Sukuna in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. It was you.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. He watched as you browsed through the shelves, seemingly lost in thought. Your presence, once a distant memory, felt so strikingly real that Sukuna’s heart skipped a beat. The years seemed to melt away as he took in the sight of you.

At first, he didn’t recognize you. It was just a fleeting glimpse, the way your hair caught the light, the familiar way you moved. But then, as you reached for something on a high shelf, he saw your face, and his heart stopped.

It was you.

He couldn’t believe it at first. He thought maybe it was someone who just looked like you, or perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, dredging up memories he’d tried so hard to bury. But the more he stared, the more certain he became. It was you.

Yuji, noticing Sukuna’s sudden pause, looked up. “Uncle Sukuna, what’s wrong?”

Sukuna swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, nothing, brat. Let’s just finish up here.”

But his gaze was fixed on you, unable to look away. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and Sukuna fought with the urge to approach you, unsure of what to say or do. The familiar mix of excitement and anxiety churned within him, a reminder of the past he had tried so hard to reconcile.

Yuji, still unaware of the significance of the moment, tugged on Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go over there? I want to check if they have those chocolates I like!”

Sukuna nodded absently, allowing Yuji to lead him towards the end of the aisle where you stood. As they drew closer, Sukuna braced himself, trying to steady his racing heart. He needed to act normal, to approach you calmly despite the flood of emotions.

Without thinking, he handed the shopping basket to Yuji and began walking toward you. The world around him seemed to blur, the noise of the supermarket fading into the background. It was just you and him, the years that had passed suddenly meaningless.

When he reached you, he hesitated, unsure of what to say. His mind raced, a thousand questions and emotions fighting for dominance. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility of seeing you again. But now that you were right in front of him, he couldn’t just walk away.

“Is that you?” He finally said it. He finally said your name. He could feel his entire body shake from nervousness. He didn’t notice until he said it that his voice was rougher than he intended.

You turned to him, blinking in confusion. Your eyes met his, and for a brief, electrifying moment, Sukuna saw the spark of recognition. It was fleeting, but it was there—an almost imperceptible flicker that hinted at a shared past. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a polite, detached expression.

“I’m sorry, but…” you began, your voice soft and apologetic. “Do I know you?”

The words hit Sukuna like a punch to the gut. The confusion on your face made no sense to him; how could you not remember him? The realization was like a cold wave crashing over him. He scanned your face more closely, noting the faint scar near your temple and the way your eyes seemed to search his face for something familiar but found nothing.

“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.”

You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Amnesia. The word hit him like a ton of bricks. All the anger, hurt, and regret that had simmered in him for years suddenly evaporated, replaced by something he couldn’t quite name. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t remember anything about your life together, the love you shared, or the pain that had driven you apart. He stared at you, struggling to process what you’d just told him. The person he’d spent years trying to forget had forgotten him completely. And it hurts. It burns. It…it kills him.

Sukuna’s heart sank as he struggled to process your words. The memories of the past, the shared moments, the intense connection—everything seemed to blur together in a confusing haze. He tried to hold onto the hope that maybe, somehow, there was a chance you might remember him later, but the reality of your situation was clear. You had no recollection of your time together.

“Right…” Sukuna muttered, his voice thick with emotions he didn’t quite know how to handle. “No, it’s… it’s fine.”

“I just… I feel like I’ve upset you,” you mumbled back, your eyes filled with sincere regret. “It’s been like this for a while. I’m really sorry.”

“No, no… it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It was my fault,” Sukuna said, shaking his head, though the words felt hollow against the weight of his feelings.

You nodded, your gaze sympathetic. “No, please. It’s not. I understand. It must be hard to run into someone who doesn’t remember you. I’m truly sorry.”

There was a quiet moment between you, the weight of lost memories hanging heavily in the air. Sukuna, feeling the sting of both your absence and the reality of your condition, struggled to find the right words. He wanted to bridge the gap between what had been and what was now, but he found himself at a loss.

Before you could turn away, Sukuna took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. “Um… could I… could I have your number? Maybe… maybe we could talk sometime. If you’re okay with that.”

You looked at him, a flicker of surprise crossing your face. For a moment, you seemed to weigh his request, and then you nodded slowly. “Sure. I can give you my number. I’d like that.”

As you exchanged contact information, Sukuna felt a mixture of hope and apprehension. The act of sharing numbers was a small step, but it felt significant. It was a bridge to the possibility of rebuilding a connection, even if the past was shadowed by the uncertainty of your memory.

“Thank you,” Sukuna said quietly, his voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude. “I appreciate it.”

You gave him a warm, understanding smile. “Of course. I’ll be happy to talk whenever you’re ready. It’s… nice to have some help with my memories, even if it’s just a little.”

Before he could speak, Yuji tugged at Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go home now? I’m tired.”

Sukuna glanced down at Yuji and then back at you, his heart heavy. “Yeah, Yuji. Let’s head out.”

As Sukuna began to walk away, he felt your gaze on him. The pain of seeing you again, only to find that you had no memory of their shared past, was almost too much to bear. The bittersweet encounter left him with a mix of longing and resignation. You smiled at Yuji and then to him. Yuji grinned back at you and waved back.

“Take care.” you called softly as he left the store with Yuji. Sukuna gave a small, subdued wave in response, his mind reeling from the encounter.

Once outside, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Yuji, noticing his uncle’s somber mood, looked up with concern. “Uncle Sukuna, are you okay?”

Sukuna forced a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, Yuji. I’m fine. Just… a little surprised. Let’s get home.”

As they drove back, Sukuna’s thoughts were filled with the echoes of the past and the present reality. The encounter had stirred up old feelings, and the realization that you had lost your memories of him was both heartbreaking and profoundly unsettling. Yet, despite the pain, there was a strange sense of closure, as if seeing you again, even under these circumstances, had helped him come to terms with the unresolved aspects of their past.

As you walked away, Sukuna stood there, frozen in place, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Yuji came up beside him, his eyes wide with concern.

“Uncle Sukuna, are you okay? Who was that?”

Sukuna glanced at Yuji, then back at the aisle where you’d disappeared. He didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know how to explain that the person he’d never been able to forget had forgotten him entirely.

“That,” Sukuna finally said, his voice hollow, “was someone I used to know.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

HE DOESN’T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED AFTER. The days that followed were a blur for Sukuna. But he couldn’t help it. Your encounter in the supermarket had shaken him in a way he hadn’t expected. He tried to push it aside, tell himself that it didn’t matter, that you were just a part of his past. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, the way you looked at him with no recognition, no anger, no pain—just blank politeness. It haunted him.

Yet, fate seemed determined to keep throwing the two of you together. A few days later, he saw you again, this time at a coffee shop. You were sitting by the window, a book in hand, oblivious to the world around you. Sukuna hesitated, debating whether to approach you, but before he could decide, you looked up and caught his eye. There was that same polite smile, and he found himself walking over to you before he could think better of it.

“Hi again.” you said, looking up at him with that same soft, apologetic expression. “We keep running into each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah…..” he replied, his voice rough. He wasn’t sure what to say. The awkwardness between you was palpable, the weight of the past pressing down on him in a way you couldn’t feel. But you didn’t know that, couldn’t know that, so you just smiled and gestured to the seat across from you.

“Would you like to join me?” you asked, your voice gentle, offering a small, tentative smile as you gestured to a nearby café table.

Sukuna hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he was doing or why he was putting himself through this, but there was something about being near you, even if you didn’t remember him, that soothed the ache in his chest.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” he finally said, his voice betraying the mix of emotions swirling inside him. He sat down across from you, the familiarity of the scene almost too much to bear. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away.

You giggled. “I don’t mind. Not at all.”

As you both settled in, the air between you was filled with an odd mix of tension and familiarity. You began to talk—small, inconsequential things at first. You mentioned how you liked the café’s atmosphere, how it had become one of your favorite spots since you moved here. Sukuna nodded along, trying to focus on the present moment rather than the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm him.

“You know….. “ you said after a moment, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, “it’s strange. I feel… comfortable with you. Like I’ve known you for a long time, even if I can’t remember it.”

Sukuna’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the years of pain, regret, and longing he had carried since you’d been apart. But he knew it wouldn’t be fair to burden you with memories you didn’t share anymore. So instead, he offered a small, wistful smile.

“Maybe it’s just one of those thing.” he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. “Some people just click, I guess.”

You nodded, your gaze lingering on his face as if you were trying to piece together a puzzle. “Maybe. But still, it feels nice. Like I can trust you.”

Sukuna swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his emotions in check. “I’m glad,” he said quietly, his voice betraying the depth of his feelings despite his best efforts. “I’d like to be someone you can trust.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, and the tension slowly eased. You talked about your life, your work, and the things you enjoyed. Sukuna listened intently, hanging on to every word, savoring the sound of your voice even if the stories were new to him.

As the minutes turned into an hour, Sukuna found himself relaxing. The ache in his chest dulled, replaced by a warmth that he hadn’t felt in years. It was as if, for the first time since you had parted ways, he could breathe a little easier. There was no rush, no pressure to define what this was or what it could become. Just the simple pleasure of being in your company again, however different it might be from the past.

When you finally stood up to leave, Ryomen Sukuna felt a pang of reluctance, but he knew this wasn’t the end. You had exchanged numbers, after all, and there was a possibility that this could lead to something more.

“I’m really glad we ran into each other.” you said, giving him a sincere smile. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“Me too.” Sukuna replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I’d like that.”

As you walked away, Sukuna remained seated for a moment, staring at the now-empty chair across from him. Despite the uncertainty of the future, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to make things right—to show you the kind of love and care he should have given you all those years ago. And as he left the café, he found himself smiling, a feeling of lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in far too long.

Like the wind, the days brushed by into weeks, these accidental meetings became more frequent. He’d see you at the park, at the grocery store, at the small bookstore you frequented. Each time, you greeted him with the same warmth, and each time, he felt the walls he’d built around his heart start to crumble a little more.

It was during one of these encounters, when you were sitting together on a bench at the park, that Sukuna realized something had changed. He wasn’t just dwelling on the past anymore. He wasn’t just seeing you as the woman he used to love, the one who’d left him behind. You were still that person, but you were also someone new, someone who’d been through their own struggles, their own pain.

And he’d changed too. He wasn’t the same man you’d walked away from five years ago. The anger, the recklessness, the pride that had once driven you apart had mellowed. He’d grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, sitting beside you, he realized that he wanted to make things right.

There was one afternoon where after you’d both finished your coffees at that familiar café, Sukuna finally found himself gathered the courage to speak again. He’d been thinking about this for days, the words tumbling over and over in his mind until they felt like second nature.

“Hey….” he began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You looked at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”

“I know you don’t remember me, or anything about… us, but I want you to know that I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve changed. And I want to try again.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I want to make things right for you.”

There was a long silence as you absorbed his words. He could see the confusion in your eyes, the way you were trying to piece together something that felt like a missing puzzle in your mind. You wanted to know what it was. How to be complete, and yet you didn’t know how. Not even if your past thought he was what complete was. Finally, you spoke.

“Sukuna, I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t remember anything about us, about our past. But I can see that this means a lot to you, and that you’ve been carrying it with you for a long time.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, and then back at him. “I don’t know if I can ever get those memories back. But I do know that I enjoy spending time with you, that I feel comfortable around you. And maybe… maybe that’s a good place to start.”

His heart leapt at your words, hope flickering to life in a way it hadn’t in years. This was a second chance, an opportunity to rewrite the story that had once ended in heartbreak. He didn’t know what the future held, or if you would ever remember what you once had, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something close to peace.

Sukuna reached out, his hand brushing against yours, and you didn’t pull away. “Then let’s start there, hm?” he said quietly. “No pressure, no expectations. Just… us.”

You smiled, a genuine, warm smile that sent a wave of relief through him. “Just us,” you agreed.

And for the first time in five years, Sukuna felt like he was finally on the path to something real, something lasting. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to prove that he could love you the way you deserved—this time, the right way.

As the weeks turned into months, Sukuna and you continued to meet, slowly rebuilding a connection that had once been lost. Each encounter felt like a tentative step forward, a cautious yet hopeful attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between you over the years. Yet, instead of the intense and sometimes overwhelming passion that had defined your past relationship, there was a newfound sense of calm and understanding between you both.

There was an ease between you now, a natural rhythm that felt different from the intense, almost chaotic bond you’d shared in the past. In the beginning, it was subtle—a shared smile over a mundane joke, the comfortable silence that fell between you as you walked side by side, the way your conversations flowed without the need to fill every gap with words. The pressure that once loomed over your relationship, demanding definitions and clarity, had dissipated, leaving space for something more genuine and unforced.

You found yourselves slipping into each other’s lives in small, almost imperceptible ways. Sukuna would pick up your favorite coffee without being asked, remembering the way you liked it just by heart. You’d invite him to a quiet dinner at your place, cooking together in the kitchen as you talked about everything and nothing. There were no grand gestures or declarations, just a quiet, steady presence that felt reassuring and right.

This time, there was no rush, no urgency to define what you were to each other. It was as if both of you understood that whatever this was, it needed to grow at its own pace. You’d learned from the past, from the way things had unraveled before, and there was an unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. You allowed the relationship to unfold naturally, letting each moment build upon the last, like carefully stacking stones into a tower that could withstand the test of time.

Sukuna, too, had changed. The man who once wore his emotions like armor, who had always been so guarded and intense, was different now. There was a softness to him that hadn’t been there before—a willingness to listen, to be patient, to let things unfold without forcing them into place. He no longer felt the need to control every aspect of his life, and that included his relationship with you. He had learned to let go, to trust that if this was meant to be, it would be.

And in that trust, something beautiful began to grow. Your conversations deepened, moving beyond the surface-level topics that had once dominated your interactions. You talked about your dreams, your fears, the things that kept you awake at night. Sukuna shared pieces of himself that he had kept hidden for so long, opening up in ways he never had before. And you, in turn, felt safe enough to do the same.

There were moments when the past would resurface, like shadows lingering at the edges of your newfound connection. Memories of heated arguments, of painful goodbyes, would flicker in your minds, reminding you of how things had once gone wrong. But instead of letting those memories drag you down, you faced them together, acknowledging the hurt while choosing to move forward.

It wasn’t always easy. There were still days when doubts crept in, when the fear of repeating past mistakes threatened to pull you apart. But each time, you chose to stay, to work through it rather than run away. And with each challenge you faced, the bond between you grew stronger, more resilient.

Sukuna, who had once been so afraid of vulnerability, found himself looking forward to the moments he spent with you. The walls he had built around himself slowly crumbled, replaced by a quiet confidence in what you were building together. He no longer needed to prove himself, to assert control over his emotions or over you. Instead, he allowed himself to simply be—with you, in the present, without the burden of past regrets or future expectations.

You, too, noticed the change in yourself. The tension that had once gnawed at your heart, the constant questioning of whether you were enough or if this was right, had eased. You felt more secure, more at peace with where you were and where you were going. You trusted Sukuna in a way you hadn’t before, not just because he had changed, but because you had changed too.

As the months passed, the connection between you deepened, solidified by the quiet moments of understanding and the shared experiences that had brought you closer together. There was a sense of contentment that neither of you had anticipated—a feeling that, for the first time in a long time, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And so, you continued to meet, to grow together, allowing whatever this was to take shape in its own time. There was no rush, no urgency, only the quiet certainty that what you were building was worth the patience and the effort. You both knew that the past would always be a part of you, but it no longer defined you. Instead, it had become a foundation upon which you could build something new, something lasting.

In each other’s presence, you found a kind of peace that had once seemed elusive, and in that peace, you discovered the possibility of a future that was not just better than the past, but truly, deeply right.

Sukuna found himself looking forward to your meetings, the mundane moments that had once seemed trivial now holding a new significance. Whether it was a simple walk in the park, browsing through books together, or sharing a meal, these moments began to stitch together a new story between you, one that was quieter, more deliberate, and infinitely more meaningful.

But beneath the surface, Sukuna wrestled with his own emotions. The more time he spent with you, the more he realized just how much he had missed you—how much he had missed being close to someone who truly understood him. Yet, there was also the constant reminder that you didn’t remember him, that the memories of your past were locked away, possibly forever.

One afternoon, after you’d both finished a long walk along the river, you sat together on a bench, watching the water ripple in the sunlight. The conversation had lulled into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, Sukuna just watched you, taking in the way the light caught your hair, the serene expression on your face.

“Can I ask you something?” Sukuna finally said, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, nodding. “Of course.”

“Do you ever… feel like something’s missing? Like there’s a part of you that’s still out there, waiting to be found?”

You considered his question carefully before responding. “Sometimes.” you admitted. “There are moments when I feel like I’m on the edge of remembering something important, something that’s just out of reach. But I’ve learned to let go of the frustration. I’ve had to accept that those memories might never come back.��

Sukuna’s heart clenched at your words, the weight of your shared history pressing down on him. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the story of your love, the highs and lows, the way you had been everything to each other and how it had all fallen apart. But he held back, knowing that it wasn’t his place to force those memories on you.

Instead, he reached out and took your hand in his. “I don’t want to push you more than I already did.” he said quietly. “I just want you to know that I’m here, whatever happens. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

You squeezed his hand, offering him a gentle smile. “I know, Sukuna. And I appreciate that. I’ve come to trust you, even if I don’t remember our past. What matters to me now is the person you are today, the one I’m getting to know all over again.”

Those words gave Sukuna a sense of hope he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. He was no longer the man who had let his pride and anger destroy something precious. He had grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, he had a chance to show you that.

As the days passed, he became more intentional in his efforts to be there for you, to support you in ways he hadn’t before. He listened when you spoke, offered comfort when you needed it, and gave you space when you needed to process your thoughts. There was a quiet strength in the bond you were forming, a steady foundation that was being built brick by brick.

One evening, after you’d invited him over for dinner, you sat together on your couch, a comfortable silence settling between you after a long day. Sukuna glanced at you, his heart full of things he wanted to say but didn’t know how to put into words.

“I’ve been thinking….a lot.” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “About us.”

His breath caught in his throat, but he stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue. He could feel his heart pounding, the silence between you filled with unspoken tension. You looked at him tenderly, and those eyes—those eyes he had once loved so fiercely—held a warmth that stirred something deep within him. But this time, there was something different in your gaze, something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the same love he remembered, the love that had once consumed both of you. It was softer, more distant, as if it had been tempered by time and the loss of memories.

Sukuna wasn’t sure what that look meant, but he longed for the days when your eyes had been filled with nothing but love for him. He yearned for the intensity, the passion that had once been theirs. But deep down, he knew those days were gone, that you had changed, just as he had. And even though he wished for the impossible, he understood that the love you had once shared might never return in the way it had before.

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping, from wanting you to look at him like that again, to feel that love again. But he knew, with a sinking certainty, that it was unlikely. Maybe this was his punishment, the price he had to pay for the mistakes he had made, for the years he had spent without you. Maybe fate was just that cruel, giving him a second chance only to remind him of what he had lost.

“I don’t remember our past, Sukuna.” you said softly, breaking the silence. Your voice was gentle, but there was a sincerity in it that made Sukuna’s chest tighten. “But I do know that I feel something when I’m with you. It’s not just comfort or friendship… it’s more. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels right, being with you.”

Sukuna’s heart swelled with emotion, a mix of relief and longing coursing through him. He had waited so long to hear those words, to know that there was still something between you, even if it wasn’t exactly what he had expected. It wasn’t the grand declaration of love he had secretly hoped for, but it was something—a spark, a glimmer of the connection that had once bound you together.

He searched your face, looking for any sign of the emotions he had once known so well. But all he found was that same tender expression, tinged with a hint of uncertainty. It wasn’t love, not yet. But it was something. And for now, that was enough.

“I’m glad you feel that way.” he said, his voice thick with the emotions he was struggling to keep in check. “I don’t want to rush things, or push you to remember something that might never come back. I just… I want to be here with you, whatever that means.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I want that too, Sukuna. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’d like to find out—together.”

He felt a weight lift off his shoulders, the heavy burden of his regrets and fears easing, if only a little. This was far from the ending he had imagined, but it was a beginning, a chance to rebuild what had been lost. And maybe, just maybe, if he was patient and if he allowed things to unfold naturally, there could be something new between you, something that was just as meaningful as what you had once shared.

As you both stood there, the world around you fading into the background, Sukuna couldn’t help but think that perhaps fate wasn’t as cruel as he had feared. Maybe this was his second chance—not to reclaim the past, but to create something new, something even better than what had been before. And for the first time in years, he allowed himself to hope that this time, he wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

epilogue

A few weeks after your heartfelt conversation with Sukuna, you find yourself at a park on a sunny afternoon. Sukuna had asked you to meet him there, mentioning that his nephew, Yuji, would be joining. You had heard a lot about Yuji from Sukuna—how the kid was full of energy, always getting into something, and how Sukuna had taken on a sort of protective role in his life. You were curious to see this side of Sukuna, the man who had once been all sharp edges and intensity.

As you approach the park, you spot Sukuna first, sitting on a bench with a somewhat exasperated look on his face. Beside him is a young boy, who is clearly trying to balance on the back of the bench with one foot, arms outstretched like he’s performing some kind of circus act.

“Careful, you brat.” Sukuna warns, his tone stern but not unkind. “You’re going to break your neck.”

Yuji, grinning from ear to ear, just laughs and hops down with a flourish. “I’m invincible, Uncle Sukuna!”

“Yeah, well, let’s not test that theory.” Sukuna mutters, but there’s a fondness in his voice that catches you off guard. “Your mom and dad will kill me.”

You approach them, smiling as Yuji notices you and waves enthusiastically. “Hi! You must be the one Uncle Sukuna’s always talking about!”

“Yuji!” Sukuna snaps, looking mortified. “I do not—”

Yuji doesn’t miss a beat, cutting him off. “He totally does! He’s always like, ‘I wonder if she’s gonna remember me today,’ or ‘Maybe she’ll cook something nice again.’”

Sukuna groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Kid, do you ever stop talking?”

You can’t help but laugh at the exchange, and Sukuna’s embarrassment only makes it funnier. “Nice to meet you, Yuji!” you say, crouching down to his level. “Your uncle’s right, though. You should be careful on that bench.”

Yuji shrugs, his smile never fading. “Uncle Sukuna’s always careful too, even though he acts all tough. But he’s really soft, especially when I get hurt. You should see him panic when I stub my toe.”

“Yuji!” Sukuna’s voice is a mix of frustration and resignation, clearly regretting bringing his nephew along.

You stand up, grinning at Sukuna. “I see you’ve got a little soft spot, huh?”

“Don’t listen to him.” Sukuna mutters, glaring at Yuji, who just laughs and runs off toward the playground. “He’s a menace.”

“Sure, sure.” you tease, nudging Sukuna lightly. “But you love it.”

Sukuna sighs, watching Yuji with an expression that’s a mix of exasperation and affection. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”

You slip your hand into Sukuna’s, squeezing it gently. “You’re doing a great job, Uncle Sukuna.”

He gives you a sidelong glance, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Don’t start calling me that too.”

“No promises.” you reply, laughing as you both watch Yuji play, his laughter filling the air. It’s a side of Sukuna you never expected to see, and you find yourself growing more and more fond of the man who, despite his rough edges, is soft in all the right places.

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 7 months

Text

Catch My Breath

The first kiss.

Set in Christmas Eve 2022, after the events of Call of Duty Modern Warfare II.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC) Characters : Simon "Ghost" Riley, Charlotte "Jade" Le Jardin (OC), Captain John Price, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC), Alejandro Vargas Word Count : ~ 9600 Warning : Fluff with a slight bit of angst, a touch of hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Dont forget to come to cpt prices house today.’

You : ‘Of course not. I’m still at the orphanage for christmas gifts exchange. As soon as I'm done I'll be there :)’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Good’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Gaz is making some bangin biscuits and scones’

Jade smiled at her phone as she chatted with Soap. Her mouth already watering from imagining the taste of Gaz’s cooking on her tongue. According to Soap’s and Ladybug’s testimony, his chocolate biscuits were second to none.

You : ‘Wouldn't miss it even if I die.’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Alright. See ya.’

She bit her lip. There's one more question she wanted to ask though. She contemplated asking Soap this or not.

Her thumbs moved across the screen slowly.

You : ‘Is Ghost coming?’

When Soap had invited her to the dinner five days prior, all Jade could think about was whether or not Ghost would be joining. Their one week together in Las Almas made her feel… something. Something really, really good. Something she hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity. He earned a friend in Alejandro, Rudy, Soap, and Ghost, especially, whom she’d thought of as a real piece of work back in Verdansk. Oh, how foolish she was.

He was the best part about Las Almas.

Dammit. What was she thinking?!

By the end of Chicago, after they eliminated Hassan, Ghost and Jade had traded phone numbers. Jade had his numbers and named it “💀💢 Beanpole 💀💢”, after the nickname she gave to him before they knew each other’s name. They haven’t texted at all. Ghost wasn’t the kind to text first, that much was clear to everyone who knew him. And neither was Jade. In fact, she didn’t know what to text him first. A “hi”? A…

What else?

What do people text each other when they’re trying to get to know each other? She had no goddamn clue. Well, she knew what to text when she wanted to get intel from an unassuming target, but she didn’t want intel from Ghost.

She just wanted to know if he was okay, if he was fine, if the gash on his shoulder was healing well. Because of course, in her 29 years of life, a serious romance wasn’t a luxury that she could afford in her line of work in MI6. She took that lesson from her parents who literally had to ‘die’ first in order to even start. The point is, none of them texted first. They’re just another series of numbers in their contact list.

An animation of dots showed up, indicating that Soap was typing.

He’d typed for a few seconds before the animation stopped for a moment, and then started typing again. He must be changing his response.

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘If there's food he should be there.’

Oh? ‘... should be there’. That meant Ghost was not with Soap at the moment, and he didn’t know whether or not Ghost would be coming along. A week in Las Almas was enough for Jade to know that Ghost had grown closer to Soap as a friend-brother figure. The fact that Soap might not know his whereabouts was not a surprise, though. He’s the Ghost after all.

But she couldn’t help but think, where was he?

What did Soap type?

“Chacha! Can you help me a bit here? We're about to start the event!”

Jade looked up from her phone, her ginger hair falling on her shoulders as she tucked her phone back in her pocket, swiftly walking over to one of her co-workers, Esther, an elderly soft-looking lady who volunteered for the orphanage - her former orphanage. This place held a lot of bittersweet memories, and it made her who she was.

Her legs brought her to one of the high ladders leaning onto one of the walls of the dining hall. She took many mistletoes from the decoration boxes and swiftly climbed the ladder, hanging the vegetation one by one with ease.

“Do we need this many mistletoes?” Jade asked while her hands worked. “At this point we’re gonna kiss someone by accident.”

“Of course not, what are you talkin’ about?!” Esther’s loud laugh almost broke Jade’s ears. “It’s Christmas, Chacha. The church had an overflow of mistletoes from the donations. If there's a day where we can add as many mistletoes as we can, it’s now. Let's call the kids over.”

“Alright. Let's start this shall we?”

—

The sound of Jade’s boots rang throughout the pavement as she hurried over to Price’s house. She travelled by public transportation from Surrey as she didn't have a car with her (plus she’s not much for driving safely - fake driving licence and… all that). She looked down at her watch to see 7 PM as the cold night finally settled. Each of her breaths turned to clouds in the air, shivering as she didn't have her outer jacket with her right now. She’s never one to be unprepared, but after one of the kids got too excited about getting a Lego toy and spilt a whole glass of apple juice onto her jacket, Jade had to fight through the cold with her trusty turtleneck and only one layer of thin knitted jacket as an outer, clutching the soaked coat close to her chest.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of walking, Jade reached the front of Price's house, immediately knocking on the wooden door three times. She looked up at the massive three-story building made out of bricks, that had a good space in the front yard. The building looked old like a family heirloom, but she could tell that it was pretty much taken care of. There’s a pair of trees that had shed all their leaves for the winter and had a decent amount of vegetation on either side of the doors.

Jade looked back at the front yard. There were three cars parked in front, and she assumed that one of them belonged to Price, the other two should belong to either Gaz’s, Soap’s, or Ghost’s.

The wooden door opened. She expected Price as the owner of the house to welcome her, instead, it was Eleanor, Gaz’s very own Ladybug who immediately screeched on top of her head. “JAAAADEEE!!! You’ve finally arrived!” The medic bursted out of the door hugging her figure so tight Jade might’ve folded. A beautiful burgundy sweater around a tan shirt wrapped her figure perfectly, and of course, with her wavy dirty blonde hair tied on the back with the ribbon Gaz gave her, worn out as it could be.

“Hey Lady! I miss you so much!!” The ginger greeted warmly all the while trying her best to stay balanced on her feet or else she’d fall five steps down to the ground on her back. As Lady pulled away, she gave room for Jade to step inside the warm house, taking a glance at Jade’s look.

“Whoa. You only wear two layers? You’re shivering!”

“Yeah. Apple juice all over my jacket, but don’t mind it.” She chuckled as she took off her jacket and coat to hang them on a standing coat hanger on the side of the door, “Have the others arrived?”

“You’re the last one. I came early with Kyle to bake the cookies and help Price with the food. Soap came second bringing sacks of snacks and drinks, and Ghost had just arrived before you, about 45 minutes ago.”

That caught Jade’s attention, her heart beat a little faster just at the mention of his name. “Just? Isn’t the Captain’s invitation at 5 PM?”

“Yeah. It looked like he was coming back from somewhere though.”

Somewhere?

Lady’s eyes half blinked, looking at her teasingly. “...Am I sensing something here?”

“What? No. No. It's just that he’s um… usually an on-time kind of man.” Jade tried her best to act indifferent, looking away from her to observe the doorway decorations.

“Oh really? I see, I see.” Ladybug nodded, “Because I might have heard some stuff from Kyle~”

Jade’s eyes opened wide at the statement, her mind already racing at the thought of what Gaz had said to his girlfriend. “What did he sa–”

“There’s me trusty Ginger!”

A voice which she could identify from a mile away as Soap’s, called to her. Donning the green military-issued sweater above his uniform, which he rolled to the elbow, he walked in both women’s directions with a chocolate biscuit in hand.

“Well hello there, Ocean Eyes.” Jade softly hugged Soap’s ever-bulky body while he patted her back several times. “How's your arm? Healing well?” She remembered how Soap got shot by Graves in Las Almas and how both of them, along with Ghost, had to survive the Shadow’s manhunt in the city. Even in Chicago he had to force through it.

“You’re one to talk. How's your side?” Soap pointed at her left side while munching through his biscuit.

“You got hit?! Where?!” Ladybug, who’d been in Urzikstan to help Farah and Alex for nearly a year after Barkov’s demise, hadn't been updated much about Las Almas. Looked like Gaz left that tiny little detail.

“She did get hit.”

“No! No no. I didn't get hit per se. We were… breaking into the Las Almas prison to free Alejandro and the Vaqueros - a little bullet missed my hip, but it did leave a teeny tiny graze.” Jade made a little gesture with her thumb and index fingers.

“It wasn't.” Soap retorted, which made Ladybug look even more concerned. “You almost fell from the prison walls during our escape and LT had to catch you and carry yo–”

“ANYWAY.” Jade tried to dismiss the conversation away from Ladybug’s growing unease. “It was quite literally us four against a thousand. So we had our own hits. It was a month ago, right? I literally walked my way here! See? Now. Where's the man of the house?”

“Thought you want to camp in that doorway.” Price's gravelly voice called from the living room, his head peaking out from one of the walls. “Come in and close that damned door will ya? The forecast said it’s going to rain snow unless you muppets want to shovel the snow.”

With Jade closing the door, they all walked together towards the interior of the house, where the warmth from the fireplace radiated throughout the room cozily. And holy shit. The word ‘family heirloom’ could perfectly describe the house. Some of the furniture looked like it was carved specifically for the house, soft carpets covered some parts of the wooden floor, and portraits of whom she assumed as the former Prices hung on the walls. The exterior of the house didn’t do the property justice at all. Soap had said that this was the Captain’s own house which he’d left mostly abandoned since he resided in Herefordshire. She wouldn’t lie, if Price turned out to be a secret old money she wouldn’t be surprised.

Jade’s eyes found Gaz at the kitchen island wearing the same exact outfit as Soap and Price, but with an apron around his waist while he pulled out another batch of chocolate cookies from the oven. Gaz noticed her presence when Ladybug approached him and pointed her way. “Oh, Jade! Come here and eat the salmon. You’re not allergic to fish aren’t you?” This sight of Gaz was pretty surprising for her. He seemed more cheerful and open around Ladybug, contrasting to his serious demeanour in the field. It was refreshing, to say the least.

Jade put down her bag on one of the sofas where Price sat on the edge of it, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands skilfully. “Nope, no allergies. Have all of you eaten yet? Sorry I’m late.”

“We have, and apparently my Ladybug over here is a vacuum cleaner of food.” Gaz was replied with an elbow to the rib by his partner.

Taking her own plate of baked salmon, Jade watched from just enough distance as Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ladybug played a game of poker on the desk. The atmosphere was tense from the rivalry but hearty at the same time, their laughs filled the room as Price caught Soap hiding a card on his sleeves, which resulted in a 50 push-up penalty for the Scot. Apart from the chaos, Jade couldn’t help but find herself trying to find that one particular big man.

The memories of sharing sleepless nights together on the rooftops of Fuerzas Especiales base rushed down her mind. Those moments made up the few moments of peace that they could muster up from the chaos of Las Almas. Just the both of them, the night sky, two cups of tea, and the lights from the city of souls. All those times they spent together completely with his mask on. Only when he decided to take off his mask in front of the 141 and Vaqueros did she ever see his face.

She’s good with faces. That’s an absolute requirement for her job. That image of his face was ingrained in her brain. How the black paints surrounded his surprisingly soft eyes, how the sun reflected his whiskey brown eyes and light eyelashes, the scars on his cheeks from wearing the mask, and his strong jaw.

Jade only wished she could enjoy the actual sight of it once more.

The former MI6 turned her head a number of times, making up blueprints of Price’s residency inside her mind. This house didn’t have a rooftop, and from the looks of it, all the bedrooms are located on the upper floors. Ghost likes looking out at the scenery, so he might’ve gone upstairs, broke into one of the many bedrooms and looked out on of the balconies as he sipped on a cup of tea. Considering how Ghost was, he’d break into his captain’s house without anyone knowing about it just fine.

All the while the others were playing, Jade finished her plate of grilled salmon and found her way towards the kitchen sink to wash the dishes. She came the latest, the least she could do was helping cleaning the kitchen area. That task came to a halt when her phone vibrated. She was confused at first, but when her eyes read ‘Col. Vargas 🤠’ on the screen, Jade immediately accepted the video call.

“Hola, Coronel! Como estas?”

“Hola, Compa! Muy bien, muy bien.” Alejandro's gravelly voice greeted her excitedly as his video showed on Jade’s screen. She could tell that the sun was still up in Mexico judging by the light on his face. He looks like he’s standing just outside his family’s house. Quite rare to see the colonel in other attire than his military ones, but as Jade saw his blue shirt tucked inside his blue jeans, she couldn’t help the snicker that came out of her mouth. She remembered that Alejandro had revealed to her privately that he had two beautiful daughters who lived in Mexico City with their maternal grandparents. “I’m in Mexico City with my family to celebrate Christmas. We’re about to head to church for the Christmas Eve sermon.” Alejandro continued in Spanish, but something caught his eye. “Wait, Jade. Where are you? Is that Soap?”

Jade lifted the phone above her head to help him see the place clearly, “Yes, that’s Soap, Captain Price, Gaz, and that’s Eleanor, Gaz’s girlfriend.” She said in his language. Her fingers pointed at each soldier as they slammed their cards on the table, chaos ensuing in the middle of them. “This is Captain Price's house in London. He invited us all for dinner, and now that it’s done, they’re playing poker, aggressively.”

Now it’s Alejandro’s turn to laugh. “I’m assuming they’re on their second bottle of whatever alcohol they’re consuming.”

“Yep. Looks like Captain Price is richer than he lets on. He has 4 bottles of wine from the 1800s! Can you believe it?!”

Jade and Alejandro continued their video call, sitting in her former position on the sofa. Despite Soap’s slight dislike that they were conversing in Spanish as he couldn’t understand what they were talking about, Jade kept on going. Jade learned that Rudy stayed in Las Almas to rebuild and restore the city after the Shadows wreaked havoc, encouraging Alejandro to leave the city and unite with his family.

“So. Onto the most important topic…” Alejandro’s voice sounded deeper and his eyebrows lifted. Jade had learned after a thrilling week working together that those were a sign that he was onto something cheeky. “Where’s the Ghost?”

Again, Jade’s heart beat faster at the mention of his name, and her stomach grew warmer. Damn it. “Um, I don’t know where he is. He is here somewhere in Price’s house, but… I haven’t seen him yet.”

“He’s there? Have you tried the rooftops?”

“This house doesn’t have a rooftop. It does have a lot of rooms with balconies, though. But I didn’t see any open window from the outside.” Her head started to look side to side, “ I don’t know if this house has a back or side entrance, he might be somewh– Alejandro!!” Jade stopped when she realized that Alejandro was laughing his belly off.

“You’re looking for him too, don’t you?” The colonel guffawed. “Aaah, You should’ve seen your face when you were explaining where he is to me.”

“That’s–”

“Look. I wished you luck with him back in Las Almas. It’s only natural that I asked for ‘updates’!”

“Keep fighting the good fight, hermano.” “To the bitter end, my brother.” Soap handshook the Mexican colonel and sergeant as they were about to leave Las Almas. He then turned around and tapped Ghost’s shoulders twice, heading towards the rear end of the aircraft to unite with Price and Gaz. The lieutenant though, stood still on the tarmac a few steps behind Jade. “Good luck amigos y amiga.” Jade hugged Rudy warmly, tapping her back a few times before holding out her hand to handshake Alejandro. Instead of a handshake, Jade saw a wide grin on Alejandro’s face and opened his arms wide, indicating that he was waiting for a hug as well. “Come here, Hermana!” Jade chuckled, expecting that a handshake wouldn’t be enough for the Mexican. She obliged by stepping forward and warped her arms around Alejandro’s figure. What Jade didn’t see though, was how Ghost’s body tensed slightly behind her. Alejandro sneakily observed the man’s movement, looking visibly uncomfortable. No matter how skilled Ghost was at appearing as still as he could, Alejandro could see that this skill of his just disappeared when he was in Jade’s presence. Before Alejandro let go, he lowered his voice and spoke to Jade’s ear. “Que te vaya bien con el fantasma.” ‘Good luck with the Ghost.’ Jade blushed profusely when she translated that sentence in her mind, stepping away from the hug to punch his shoulder lightly “ey!!” She looked over to his side, finding that Rodolfo was also grinning ear to ear. “I mean it, Jade.” Alejandro spoke in Spanish, tilting his head as a sign that he was serious. Jade’s head nodded in surrender a few times. As much as they wanted to converse more, her job wasn’t over yet. Her legs started to walk backwards, “Gracias, Alejandro, Rudy. Cuidate.” Alejandro observed as she turned around, finding Ghost’s waiting figure right in front of her. She then tapped his chest plate once, jogging her way towards Price, Gaz, and Soap on the aircraft. That sight made the colonel scoff, glancing at Rudy, who looked as amused as he was. Just as Ghost was about to turn around as well to join his teammates, Alejandro called to his name. “Ghost!” The lieutenant turned around. “No te pierdas carnal!” “A huevo!”

“The both of you have forced me and Rudy to watch a telenovela the entire time! Please tell me that you’ve at least done something together after Chicago.”

“We traded numbers…” She said nervously.

“And then? Did he text first?”

Jade grimaced, expecting that Alejandro wouldn’t react well to her next response. “We… haven’t texted at all.”

“NO MAMEEESSS!!” Ale facepalmed on the video call like he just watched the Mexican national football team fail to score a goal in a World Cup match. “Ghost… I swear… you need to do better.”

Jade stood up and walked over to the kitchen aisle yet again and put her phone on a leaning position on the wall, hoping that Alejandro’s shout of despair didn’t reach the other soldiers. “Well– what if he doesn’t want to continue this… whatever’s going on between us?” she grabbed a white mug and a cocoa mix, putting in 3 spoons of the choco powder inside. “You’ve seen how he is. I don’t want to hope too much.” Jade confessed to the colonel, pouring hot water on the mug and stirring the contents with a spoon until the sweet aroma hit her nose.

“Oh you don’t know that yet, right?” Ale replied, “Do you want to have a relationship with him?”

A relationship with Ghost?

That sounded crazy to say, but if she's being honest with herself, yes. Yes, she did.

“Yeah…” She started to walk towards the hallway on the side of the kitchen with the warm mug. The walkway looked narrow and led to the rear side of the house. She guessed that if this conversation was prolonged, they were going to need a place where Soap wasn’t shouting his lungs off. Her green eyes looked to the end of the room, where a wooden door similar to the front door was present in front of her. A back door perhaps?

“Okay. Now one of you needs to start. Ghost clearly isn’t starting because he’s a stupid, bad man. But maybe you can convince him that you’re worth his time.”

Worth his time? “How?”

“Start by finding him.”

The former MI6 walked towards the back door and glanced over the glass parts where the outer side of the house was visible. Just then, she registered a man with a large frame, sitting on the stairs of the back porch. He wore the same attire as the rest of the SAS members - their military uniform covered with a military-issued sweater, and layered further with a familiar black jacket that she’d seen before in Chicago. The man had a mask over his head, but she could see that it was currently lifted up as he took a sip of what she assumed was bourbon.

That’s definitely Ghost.

“Jade? What happened?” Alejandro asked curiously as she stopped speaking earlier.

“I found him.” She muttered.

Alejandro’s lips curved, slowly forming a smile.

“The floor is yours, Jade.”

—

*5 hours earlier*

Johnny : 'LT. You’re coming, right?'

Ghost looked down at his phone, staring at the message that Johnny had sent him, not planning to text anything back.

He hated Christmas. No, he didn’t hate decors, the bright lights, the red, green, and white that coloured the streets and buildings around him. No, he’s not petty like that. He’s indifferent to it.

What he hated was how the month of December always reminded him of the darkest part of his life.

He lowered his phone and tucked it inside his pocket, going back to the sight of his family’s gravestones right in front of him. His mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew.

Ghost remembered the blood; the foul stench hitting his nose as he stood frozen, witnessing the lifeless bodies of his family – all surrounded by the colourful lights of red, green, and blue from the Christmas tree that they were decorating. If only he realized sooner that his enemies wouldn’t settle with torturing him. If only he wasn’t so naive and thought that his battles were done as soon as he was home. How wrong he was.

How fucking wrong he was.

Ghost’s tears had dried out a long time ago. Every Christmas Eve he always visited their graves. He’d cry for the first three years, but now he’d settle with staring at the stones, not a word coming out of his mouth. Just him, alone with that memory.

His phone vibrated again. Johnny’s still messaging him about the dinner at Price’s house. Ghost closed his eyes in annoyance and sighed, taking his phone and turning it on to find a few messages.

Johnny : ‘Captain said not to disturb you during Christmas week’

Johnny : ‘Idk what you’re doing now’

Johnny : ‘but I hope you’re enjoying yourself’

Ghost moved his thumb on the keyboard screen, wanting to text Johnny that he was not coming and to stop messaging him.

Johnny : ‘Also’

Johnny : ‘Jade’s coming’

His thumb paused right above the send key.

Fuck.

Why did his heart beat faster suddenly? What was this warmth in his stomach? His memories of his family’s death disappeared, and suddenly all the moments with Jade came down rushing through his mind.

The moment when they met – where they shot at each other in Verdansk, leaving a permanent mark on his left ear – The sleepless nights in Las Almas, the meaningless conversations, their moments in battle together. How beautiful she was when she kept her calm during pressing and stressful situations, the grace in her movements…

Fuck.

Fucking hell.

Ghost had read Price’s invitation two weeks before in their group chat. He already made up his mind from the beginning that he wasn’t coming. He never really enjoyed parties or any form of gathering at all. That’s how he’d been living for three decades of his life. Why did that one mention of her name from Johnny instantly change his resolve just like that?

He didn’t reply to Johnny at all, only leaving the two blue check marks indicating that he’d read Johnny’s messages.

And that… was how Ghost ended up sitting on Price’s back porch. The crescent moon was high in the sky. Little bits of snow started to fall down alongside the windy weather. For the first time of the day, he had his skull-painted balaclava up to his nose in order to take a sip from his glass of bourbon.

When he had arrived at Price’s front yard with his sedan, Ghost saw the amused surprise in Price, Gaz, and Lady’s faces, but he also took a glimpse of Johnny’s smirk on his lips. The sergeant now knew the way to his heart, and it infuriated him. God damn him.

The sun was already long gone by that time, and he could see that the others were already in the midst of eating their dinner.

He’d sneakily taken a glance around Price’s luxurious house.

No Jade yet.

Ghost had conversed for a while with Price, took his own plate of baked salmon, poured himself a glass of bourbon, and excused himself to the back door. For an hour and a half, he sat right there, slowly sipping on his alcohol. Just as he thought that she wasn’t coming and that Johnny had lied to him, the wooden door behind his back opened.

He turned around and found the woman herself.

Jade.

Her ginger hair was braided like usual, but stopped on the back of her head, letting the long hair run freely down her back and shoulders. The deep red turtleneck which usually looked out of place in warm weather such as Las Almas currently fitted perfectly on her figure. A green pair of wide pants hung from her hip, letting the fabric run freely downwards instead of wrapping around her legs like the jeans he’s used to seeing her wearing during their mission together.

Ghost caught her green eyes, reflected by the moonlight, and he could easily tell that she wore some sort of makeup. What the name was he couldn’t bother to remember, but she looked… beautiful.

His heart was already beating pretty fast from the alcohol, but now it’s going even faster, and don’t even start about the butterflies that were flying rampant inside his stomach right now.

She only stared at him, her breaths turning to cloud along with the vapour from the cocoa mug she was holding. For a few seconds, they stayed like that, until Jade finally started.

“Why aren't you inside? It's cold.”

Can you miss someone’s voice? Apparently you can, judging by the unexplainable sense of relief that washed over him after he heard her voice. The last time he heard her voice was back in Chicago, a month ago. He then turned around again, facing Price's plain backyard to try hiding any signs from his exposed mouth that she might read. The former MI6 had this scary skill to read every body language of any person. Sure, he had a mask up to his nose, but he wouldn’t take any chances.

“I don't like parties.” He replied.

“It's cold.”

“Better than whatever's going inside. And I have my friend right here to keep me warm.” He slightly lifted the bourbon glass, shaking it slightly to make the content swirl.

Jade hummed. She observed his glass and noticed the alcohol. For all their nights in Las Almas, Ghost always drank tea, never alcohol. Of course, they were in active duty, so drinking liquor could cost them so much, but he'd said himself that he pretty rarely drinks, since Ghost had confessed that he liked being in control of what he did. She wondered why he was drinking, but she let it go. Instead, Jade stepped two stairs down, and sat beside Ghost’s left, drinking her own cup of hot chocolate.

“Why are you here?” Now it's Ghost’s turn to start.

She wondered how to answer that. If she's being honest, the answer would be ‘to be with you’, but she deleted that response in her mind.

“I… don't really like parties.”

“…You don't look the type.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s ‘my’ type?”

Ghost took another sip from the glass, “Likes being around people. Gets your energy from a communal space.”

The former MI6 scoffed. “Fooled you right there. Maybe it’s just me, but being around people automatically sets me in observation mode. Don’t get me wrong, I like people. It’s just tiring.”

“Hm.”

Another few seconds of silence, before she continued. “What about you? Why are you here?”

“Gets noisy inside, especially if Johnny's starting to lose his grip on reality.” Ghost immediately answered, almost like he expected Jade to ask him that. “He’s a screamer.”

“Hey how's your graze wound? It's healing well right?

Jade suddenly asked, which surprised Ghost. He glanced at Jade, finding the woman herself looking straight into his brown eyes. He should admit, her face so close to his caught him off-guard, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, creating a cloud in the air. Ghost then took a sip from his glass again before answering. “Yeah. I changed the dressing every once in a while. It's just a scab now. “ To be honest, he kind of forgot about the wound on his right shoulder. It was disgustingly painful during their time in Las Almas and Chicago considering how he must carry the chestplate and his gears on that shoulder. The memory of Jade tending to that wound of his at the safehouse came rushing down his brain.

“Okay, that's a relief then. Just make sure you don't scratch it or it'll open again.”

“I know the drill, Midget, I’m not a kid. This isn't my first rodeo. What about you?”

“Wh-what about me?”

“Your hip.”

The former MI6 sucked both of her lips between her teeth. “It’s fine.”

“Fine how?”

Jade now looked at Ghost’s brown eyes, intensely gazing at her own. He wasn’t taking ‘It’s fine’ as an answer. He was always an intense person. She suddenly remembered the feeling of being safe in his hands when he carried her towards the van, arms under her shoulder and knees when she couldn’t bear the pain in her hip any longer.

How Ghost had slept the whole night, in a sitting position on a chair beside her bed in the safehouse with his mask on, staying right by her side.

“Oi. Midget. I’m asking you.”

That snapped her out of her thoughts. “Huh? Yeah! It’s a bit itchy at times, but I can manage. It’s healing well.”

That answer seemed to finally satisfy him. “Hm.”

Jade went back to her hot chocolate, but Ghost didn’t leave her. He could see her shivering a little bit in the cold. The tip of her nose and ears had turned rosy.

“You cold?”

“Hm? No! No, not at all. Why?"

“You're shivering. And where's your jacket? A single layer of sweater won't help with this fucking weather.”

“Well– About that. I was at the orphanage for Christmas gift trading earlier before coming here. One of the kids got… too excited and spilt apple juice all over my jacket, so I had to take it off.” She admitted.

“What, you're gonna freeze yourself to death here? It's 1 degree out.”

“I don't want to be insiiiide.” Jade whined, almost childish. A sight Ghost would never admit he found cute.

“Your survival instincts are out of the damn window. I thought you were a seasoned MI6 black agent.” Somehow he found more ways to ridicule her.

The ginger scowled, pouting her lips before standing up “…Whatever, I'm going inside”

“Fuckin’ hell– stay. Stay here. Sit back down.” Ghost’s swift hand grabbed her forearm a bit too harshly, prompting her to balance her hand as a drop of her hot chocolate spilt out to the white snow below.

“Why? You want me to freeze to death?” Regardless, she sat back down, closer to his body now.

“You're the only company I've got that isn't annoying. So stay here.” Ghost unexpectedly moved his arms to take off his black jacket, revealing his green sweater underneath, and much to Jade’s surprise, his arms loomed over her and rested the dark clothing around her shoulders. Her bewilderment failed to hide itself when his hand patted her shoulder a couple of times to set it in place. “There. Better?”

Wow. It’s… warm. And most importantly, It’s his warmth.

One of her hands left the warm mug, softly tracing her fingers along the hem of the jacket to tuck it closer to her chest. “...Better.”

Shit. Ghost didn’t know the sight of Jade beneath his jacket would create more butterflies to fly like bees inside his stomach. In an attempt to suppress it, he sighed, leaning back and closed his eyes to take a deep breath.

…before he opened his eyes, finding a mistletoe hanging right above them, placed neatly. And purposefully. It’s like a damned grenade trap. “…Fuckin’ hell…”

“STOP SWEARING!!” Jade exclaimed, annoyed at his shortage of vocabulary. “You've said those words twice in the same mi– What are you looking at…?” Jade looked at Ghost, who was leaning back while his head hung backwards on his neck.

She looked up as well, finding the mistletoe that made him swear. “…oh, blimey.” There was not a single Christmas decoration on the back side of the house but this one. Price was a person who had a high attention to detail, but Christmas decoration was not one of them. Heck, he barely decorated the house at all. That thing was hung far too strategically.

Both Ghost and Jade were thinking of the same thing.

Soap.

Ghost sighed, “Just ignore it.”

“But it's bad luck though.” Jade thoughtlessly said.

“You don't really believe that, do you.”

“Well I don't! It's hanging vegetation. Still, I'm saying it could be true.” Her hands gestured at the mistletoe above her.

“What, you want a kiss?”

The woman gasped, almost offendedly. “HUH? KISS YOU??”

“Who else is underneath this fucking mistletoe?”

She joked, trying desperately to hide her panic at the thought of kissing him. “A ghost.”

“Fucking funny. Also what's with you? It's just one kiss.”

Jade stopped speaking. Her eyes widened as she pursed her lips. “Um…. I just don't…”

Confusion fell down Ghost’s half-masked expression, quickly reading her reaction, until he got to the conclusion. “...Don't fucking tell me you haven't had your first kiss yet.”

When he saw how Jade couldn’t respond anymore, Ghost pinched his forehead.“Bloody hell... Then why did you say you want it?!”

“I NEVER SAID I WANT IT??? I just said that the bad luck thingy could be true!”

“Well fuck us for five hundred years then!”

“DAMMIT– OKAY!! KISS ME!”

Those words perplexed him, not realizing that he was practically glaring at her that his eyes might come out of its socket. The ever-present black paint around his eyes didn’t help to ease the tension either. Jade herself didn’t know which thunder slapped her that she said those words. She wasn’t the kind of person to just spout things without thinking of the consequences first.

Ghost observed Jade’s face, trying to read her expression, to see whether or not she was joking or serious. Because in the deepest part of his heart, he’d hoped that she was joking. But even deeper, he hoped that she wasn’t. “…you don't mean that.”

Jade wondered if her mouth had disconnected from her brain. What she was saying came out literally the opposite of what her instincts were. “You heard me. You can kiss me. Just a peck though.” What was she thinking? This was NOT what she wanted to say. Or was it? “How many women have you kissed?” Aaand now she’s prying onto his past? Great job, Jade.

He used to be young, that’s for sure. Despite his father and brother mocking him and his mother for it, he used to go to school and met a few women during his learning days. Only two of them, though, and that was all before he got into military. He didn’t know what commitment was back in the day, and his ‘girlfriends’ didn’t know that either. “...a few.”

“Were they experienced?”

“Probably so.”

Okay, so he had some experience. That somehow made her feel easy. “Well… I have zero experience on the act. So… be gentle, okay?”

“…Fine.“ Ghost breathed as he put down his almost-empty glass on the stone staircase behind him, finding Jade doing the same.

The coldness of the wind prickled her skin, making her realize that this was not a dream. He’s about to kiss her, and it’s from a mistletoe. Out of nowhere, she remembered the overflow of mistletoe that the orphanage received earlier. Could that be a sign? Either way, she snapped back to her current state, where Ghost was visibly looking at her lips, and that sight made her heart drum twice the speed. At this point, she might explode. “Okay. So… what do I do? Do I tilt my head a little, or do I open my lips just a little bit? Should I lean in to kiss you too? Or like–”

“Just. Stay. Still.” Ghost shut her up before she could blabber more.

“Okay okay okay”.

Jade watched Ghost secure his mask up to his nose, revealing his mouth. When she glanced at his lips, Jade could see a tinge of red on his cheek, but she could dismiss that as a reaction to the cold or from the alcohol he was drinking. When he leaned in slowly, Jade could see him so close, the closest he's ever been to her. His eyelashes were longer than she's ever realised, fluttering against his skin, the little healed scars on his face–

Jade sucked her lips into her teeth, "WAIT WAIT WAIT." Making the man flinch and pull away in confusion.

"What?! Do you wanna do this or not?!" Ghost exclaimed.

"I do, I do! It's my first time! Just–”

“I said all you need to do is stay. Still.”

“I've never done this before, literally! I'm 29 and I've never kissed someone!”

Ghost fell silent as Jade hid her face on her palm.

“…I have never fallen for anyone before.” She confessed. “I wanted my first kiss to be with the one and only, and now… “ Her hands wildly gestured to the mistletoe above them, “someone happened to put a mistletoe right above us.”

Jade was a lot of things. A formidable fighter, a dependable ally, a brave operator who’d jump from a cliff with you, a spawn of the devil herself when she does her thing. However, at that moment, Ghost didn’t see any of those at all. All she saw was a vulnerable woman, curled up in a ball because she couldn’t fathom the concept of a single kiss.

After a few moments of him letting her collect her thoughts, Ghost muttered, “…Jade, if you're not ready, then we can just pretend that it doesn't exist. You don't have to.”

“You know what?” She tapped both of her knees with a considerable force, like she just made up her mind about something. “I gotta start somewhere right? Besides, when I finally kiss my man, I need to work on my kissing game.”

Ghost couldn’t help the scoff out his mouth. And… ‘her man’, huh? That could be a dream. “'Kissing game'?”

“Yes! Gotta…know what it feels like, at least?”

Ghost observed her expressions yet again. The woman in front of her was looking at him like she’s about to surrender her life to his hands. What, was he about to shoot an apple above her head? To him this was just a kiss after all.

Or was it?

Jade wasn’t his girlfriends during his younger days. She’s an extraordinary woman like no other.

“…Okay. Look. We're gonna do this slowly. I will do all the work while you can just stay there. Does that work with you?” Ghost started, looking at Jade in the eyes.

She put on the bravest face she could muster up and proceeded with a nod.

“Say it.” The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine, because of course, it wasn’t enough for him.

“Okay, Ghost.”

“Good. Close your eyes, Jade. Just calm down. Trust me.

As she closed her eyes, she breathed the cold winter air deeply before letting them out. Now that her vision was no more, her other senses had heightened. The sharp cold air stabbing her skin, the smell of hot cocoa on her hands, the faint scent of something that could only come from Ghost's jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

For a good amount of time, she didn't feel anything other than her surroundings. Jade was expecting something on her lips. Anything from the man that was sitting right in front of her, but none came. She was about to open her eyes and call his name, until something touched her chin, lightly lifting her head to face upwards. And just then, Jade finally felt a soft, tender kiss on her forehead. His lips stayed there only for a second before they parted with her skin, yet it felt like she longed for it for more than eternity. No one has ever laid their lips on her skin before. No one.

What she was expecting was something on her lips, not her forehead, so when Jade was about to open her eyelids, again, he stopped her by putting his fingers on her left cheek, tenderly sliding them from her rosy cheek to the back of her ear, taking the stray strands of her red hair with them. The hands that killed, that murdered many so more could live, were gingerly touching her face with an unexpected amount of softness. She didn’t know his hands were capable of doing such delicate movements, and neither did he.

Before she could register what was happening, she felt him getting close again, and for the second time, her expectation betrayed her when Ghost kissed her cheek, just right under her eye. The kiss lasted longer than the one on her forehead, yet Jade couldn’t find any reason to complain. If anything, she wanted his lips to stay on her cheek longer than that. To feel him closer, to feel him more.

Ghost’s fingers moved on backwards from behind her ear, going through the wilds of her undone hair and finding its place on the back of her head. Heart racing, Jade was expecting another kiss that was not in the designated place. However, when his deep, raspy voice softly said to her, “I’m going to kiss you now.”, she found herself giddy with her eyes closed. Part of her wanted to open her eyes and see what was going on right in front of her, but the other part stood strong against it, not wanting to ruin the moment.

So when she felt him closing in, Jade gave all control over to him. She relaxed herself, letting Ghost gently pull her head closer to his, to at last, close the distance between their lips.

It was the softest, slowest kiss possible, filled with unsureness on her part, yet with a sense of certainty and confidence from him, and because of that, Jade let him do his part, leading the kiss to the point that it was enjoyable and… lovely.

The kiss lasted for only a mere 5 seconds at most, but it felt like hours. Ghost reluctantly pulled back and saw that Jade had already opened her green eyes. Her face was painted with shyness and shock, a pleasant one, as she saw that Ghost had removed his mask entirely, his face right in front of hers, his brown hair still a bit dishevelled from removing his balaclava.

Jade was a heavily trained warrior and an exceptionally skilled individual who stayed calm in times of distress and emergency on the battlefield, a force to be reckoned with, and could be an absolute menace when she wanted to be. Now, seeing the same woman like this – dazed, wide-eyed, a blushing mess, and taken aback by a simple kiss – The sight made him smile softly.

If only she'd known how long he'd wanted to do that to her.

Palm still resting on the side of her neck, he asked her, “How was that for a first time?”

Jade looked like a robot losing its ability to function. There were no words in her brain to respond to his question. Scratch that. It looked like she didn’t even register what his question was.

Seeing her so flabbergasted made him let out a deep chuckle. “Midget. I’m talking to you.”

That bastardized nickname snapped her out of her thoughts, making her blink rapidly, seemingly trying to sort her jumbled brain. Jade looked at the man who just claimed her first kiss right in his dark, brown eyes.

He’s still right in front of her, face looking at her delightfully with a sweet smile, not like the usual dark, ready-to-kill gaze. It’s almost like looking at a different person entirely.

“Uh… Umm–” Jade couldn’t form words.

Another chuckle, “You okay?”

"...this is a weird request, but" A pause, "Can you… do that again?"

Never in a thousand lifetimes, he would ever expect that answer from her. "...You want me to kiss you again?"

"Yeah. Can you do that?" She spoke with a low voice. "Please?"

His eyes opened wide at her request. Confused, but amazed at the same time. Did that request mean she liked it? Her expressions said that she did, though. Or did she just want to make sure? Nevertheless, Ghost decided to oblige and leaned in again to kiss her.

Jade closed her eyes again and felt his lips against hers for the second time that night. His kiss was as soft and as tender as the first time. This one, though, she decided to take in the feeling of his rough lips, the way he tilted his head to fit hers, the way his large hand lightly pulled her in and softly kissed her. All the sensations she felt from his actions became ecstasy.

Her hands lifted their way up to find Ghost's cheeks. Jade could swear she heard a small gasp from the man. Fingers gliding along the side of his face, she could feel his stubbles grazing her skin. It was such a surreal sensation, to think that this is the face of the man who got branded as a ghost, a myth, who wears the mask to hide who he is. Right now, she's having her palm on the skin of his face, and he allowed her to.

No one had touched the skin on his face in years. No one ever managed to get their hands on his face save for enemies who sought to kill him and punched his mask before meeting their demise with his knife. The only form of touch he remembered was of his father, who was all but loving.

With the tip of her thumb, Jade traced the scars on his face. Her warm hands instantly built a gentle fire on his skin. The feeling of such a tender touch was almost like meeting a stranger to him. But if it's a stranger, why did he find himself missing it so much? Why did he yearn for it so? Her touch ignited a warmth that he never knew he needed.

At that time, the woman he was kissing felt more like home than anything and anyone ever did. He felt like he could just melt right there and then. Here Ghost thought that he was the one kissing her, but now it was like she was the one casting some sort of magic spell on him.

Soon, their hands moved, Jade’s hands left his cheeks and found his wrist who was holding the back of her head. He almost forgot the feeling of someone’s hand on his own, but before he knew it, he felt her other hand grasping his sweater, right above his heart, crumpling the cloth. As they went on, he couldn’t just stay still anymore. Ghost’s other hand also found its way to her back, lightly pressing on her. He wanted her closer, he needed her close.

Ghost snapped himself out of his thoughts and pulled back, catching Jade off guard.

The both of them looked into each other's eyes as they caught their breaths, not noticing that they'd been kissing for the last minute. Faces extremely red from racing hearts and rushing blood, clouds of cold air escaping their mouth from the cold, for a moment they thought they knew this was just because of a single mistletoe, yet deep down, they knew this was something more.

Not hearing anything from one another, Ghost took his hand back from her neck and waist as Jade parted her hands from him to her lips with her hands.

The man spoke first, "You need more?"

"Yes– I mean– No! That was enough." Words stumbled their way out of her mouth. "Uh… So… that happened. I just had my first kiss."

Ghost couldn't help the smile, "I just stole your first kiss."

"No. You didn't steal it." She denied, "If anything, I'm glad you are my first kiss."

Hearing those words, Ghost could feel his heart racing again, the world suddenly felt warmer.

"I'm sorry you have to kiss me, though. You've always hated me." Jade continued with a laugh.

"Who says I hate you?"

That made her look at him, and what she saw was the most gentle face she'd ever seen him. Again, she didn't know he was capable of that expression. "If I hated you, I wouldn't ask you to stay, wouldn't I?"

That's a true statement. "You're right. So we're past the "stay away from me" phase now?"

"Our first meeting was in Verdansk. Situation was out of control and we were off to a bad start." He explained, "And we just kissed. We're way past that now."

Smiling, Jade pursed her lips before saying, "So… are we still friends?"

"Friends?" He glanced at her.

"Yep."

"Friends then." Confirmed Ghost.

"Who just kissed each other."

"Because someone hung a fucking mistletoe on the back porch." He retorted while gesturing to the decoration above them.

The woman laughed out loud before looking at the man, who was also having a chuckle of his own.

That's the first time she heard him – saw him – this happy. Had he always been this… handsome? She'd only looked at his face once before, which was when he revealed himself to the team in the Los Vaqueros safehouse in Las Almas, and then, never again.

But if this was what Jade could see beneath the mask – his happy face, the crows feet on the corners of his eyes, the corners of his lips turning upwards, and the fact that she just learned that he had shallow dimples when smiling – then she wished the mask could just disappear. Forever.

Because after this… he would put on that mask again.

This might be the last time she saw him without the mask.

When would she see him without it again?

Out of nowhere, some unexplainable force of will inside her made Jade lean in and left a peck on Ghost's cheek.

The SAS lieutenant instantly looked at the woman, flabbergasted.

Jade herself gasped loudly, covering her face in disbelief of her own action. She couldn't see it, but in his eyes, her face was as red as her hair.

Why did she do that? What made her do that?!

They swore it was the most deafening silence in their lives. Both of them stayed like that for a good 10 seconds, seemingly trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened.

"Oh my God… OH MY GOD. I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY!” Jade uttered in absolute panic.

Ghost stayed still in silence, his eyes wide open glaring at hers.

Oh shit. Shit shit shit. He’s mad. HE’S MAD.

“It– It's freezing! I'm going inside!" Jade scrambled to stand up, taking the cocoa mug with her and went to the doorway, before remembering that she still had Ghost's jacket on her shoulder.

"Ja- Lottie! Wait–" He was about to stand up to follow her, but his words got cut by his jacket flying straight to his face. When he removed the clothing, she'd already disappeared into the merry party inside.

Touching the part where Jade kissed him, Ghost slowly stared back at the falling snow in front of the porch. He hadn't worn his jacket yet, and somehow he didn't feel cold at all.

It's so hot.

It's too hot.

He buried his face in his palms, before running them through his brown hair. She didn't have to do that, didn't she? There was a mistletoe, they kissed because of it, and that was it, right?

Then what was that peck for? There wasn't any obligation involved that required her to kiss him again.

Ghost could feel his heart pumping blood faster than it ever did, faster than when he was on the battlefield, faster than when he ran laps every day. Butterflies were rushing deep inside his stomach, flying all around his insides like it just wanted to break out of his body.

He didn't know why, but if the kiss and her touch were a gentle fire that built slowly, that little peck felt like he just got struck by a damn thunder.

Violently.

And yet, he was so happy about that little peck - weirdly more so than the kiss - Too fucking happy.

Ghost grasped the sweater right above his heart before muttering to himself,

"Fuckin’ hell…"

Jade didn't melt his cold heart.

She set it on fire.

—

Price couldn’t believe the situation he was in.

His sergeants, Kyle and Soap, along with Ladybug, leaning on the back door of his house, looking at Ghost and Jade kissing at his back porch. Fucking spectacular.

“See, Gaz?! I told you–”

“SHUT UP Mate they’re gonna hear your loud arse.” Gaz nudged the drunken Scot’s rib to silence him.

Nevertheless, the plan worked. Gaz and Ladybug was the provider of the decorations since Price didn’t have any Christmas Decorations in this house in London. When Soap arrived with a mischievous look on his face and told the couple about “Operation Red Skull”, they were automatically IN on it.

And who would’ve fucking guessed? They made his house a home ground for matchmaking, and they succeeded. They weren’t his best subordinates for nothing after all.

Suddenly, Price heard a loud gasp from the three in front of him. His captain persona suddenly kicked in and stepped forward, shoving both of his sergeants to see the situation clearly.

There they saw Jade and Ghost, looking at each other, with Jade’s face looking like she was absolutely shocked.

“Oh my God… did she just sneak another kiss to him?!” Ladybug exclaimed with a whispering voice.

“FUCK! I didn’t have a clear visual.” Gaz followed.

“I think it was just a peck to his cheek??” Soap added.

“Everyone fall back!” Price commanded, and just like muscle memory, they all scrambled back to the living room, taking their respective deck of poker cards and sat around the messy table to pretend like they were still playing.

Soon after, Jade herself opened the back door with a face that none of them had ever seen before – a combination of shock and embarrassment.

“Jade? You okay?” Lady twisted her body to see Jade.

The former MI6 nodded uncontrollably like a shaking head doll. “Huh? Yeah. Yeah yeah, I’m okay.”

Gaz and Soap were covering their mouths with their deck of cards, unable to hide their smiles. It looked like they were about to break into a massive laughter any second now.

What broke it was Captain Price, who suddenly asked Jade,

“Really? What’s that black spot on your nose, then?”

---

YEEEHHEHEEHEHHHEHE. Sorry for the long wait! Thank you for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed it! (❁´◡`❁)

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

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reidmania · 2 months

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hi!! i saw you taking request so here is an idea :)

fem!reader and spencer in an established relationship and they really love each other but they get into a fight. they both say things they dont mean so reader rushes out and while driving away she feels sorry and calls spencer but it goes to voicemail. she starts to send him one saying how sorry she is and that she loves him but is cut off with a loud crash. spencer gets the voicemail and hears about her car accident and rushes to hospital, you can end it however you want hahah. im sorry if this is too much but i feel like you are the only one who can do justice to this <33

guilt ridden | spencer reid

summary ; reader and spencer get into a silly argument that ends in hospital trips and a lot of apologises.

warnings; fem reader, established relationships, arguments, cm things, car accidents and hospitals, arguments, spencer being an ass and reader also being an ass which is all forgotten when things get serious, kinda rushed. angst, happish ending, hurt x comfort kindaish.

an; im sorry this took me so long and im sorry if its horrible. i really just wanted to get this one out of the way bc i rlly enjoyed the idea!!

“I’m sorry, I’ll be back in the morning at some point so I don’t want you to worry and I know you will probably be pissed right now and that okay— You should be. I am too, but I am sorry. I didn’t mean it — I shouldn’t have said it but it was just, in the moment I wasn’t thinking.. Im sorry Spence. I love—”

There was the sound of a gasp, then a bang and then it was silent for a minute until the voice message ended itself. The sound sent goosebumps along Spencer’s arms and sweat to build up over the back of his neck as anxiety made its bed in his stomach.

His entire body went cold as he stood in the kitchen — The same place he had been standing when the stupid argument took place before you grabbed your keys and walked out, muttering how if he was that sick of you, you’d get out of his way before the door slammed behind you.

He had thought about following you and telling you to stay but in the moment he was just angry. So angry. Not even entirely at you, just everything.

He had just gotten home from a case after being away for a week — a case where they couldn’t save the victims. It was one that affected Spencer more than he wanted to admit, all he wanted was to come home and shower.

Then he got home and you immediately hugged him and rambled on about how you missed him and normally — any other time he would adore the feeling of your arms around him, he would breathe in your scent and breath it back out before going on about the case.

This time was different, everything was too much. The grasp of your arms made his body tense rather than relax, your scent was suffocating mixed with the smell of the food on the stove and the candle lit in the living room. It was all just too much.

Not because it was you, there was nothing wrong with you. It was just the day built up, and it was too much for him.

So he pushed you away and began his way to the bedroom wordlessly, where he showered, and eventually came back a little more relaxed — only now you were the one in the bad mood.

Which ended in an argument between the two of you, you called him childish and immature, he called you suffocating and needy.

Neither of you meant it.

But that didn’t stop the hurt that seeped in and the tension that grew between the two of you. Until you were shaking your head telling him to go fuck himself, grabbing your keys and walking towards the front door.

Spencer regretted his words almost immediately when the door slammed shut and didn’t open again. He didn’t mean it but he couldn’t bring himself to follow you yet — he needed to calm down and he was sure you did as well.

He didn’t ignore your call, not on purpose. He was unpacking his stuff when his phone rang from where he had left it in the kitchen. Finding it ten minutes later to hear the voice mail you left, well he had never felt a more intense ache in his chest.

Something was wrong, seriously wrong. He tried calling again and again to no avail as the call went straight to voicemail every-time. He texted you as well.

He was in his car moments later, driving to the nearest hospital because if you were anywhere — it would be there. He heard the ambulance sirens on the way and they did nothing but build the tension in between his muscle and bones.

It wasn’t until an hour later of waiting and pacing around in the hospital waiting room that someone came to tell him that you were here — stable, but in a lot of pain.

He had never felt something like this. Every bit of his mind went blank as walked fast towards the room the nurse had directed him to. His knees felt like jelly and he felt sick to his stomach.

That sick didn’t compare to the one he felt when he saw you lying in the hospital bed, fading in and out of consciousness, a doctor by your side. You were bruised and bloodied and Spencer didn’t think he could stand for another minute as his legs carried him towards the chair next to your bed.

“Honey.” His voice came out a gasp.

But all the same concerned and guilty. Your head turned slightly towards the sound of his voice and he was almost sure his heart broke at the sound of pain that left your lips when moving.

“Spence” You were hardly audible, voice small and so quiet, full of hurt. Genuine pain, you were in genuine pain that you wouldn’t have been in if Spencer had just pulled his head in and didn’t act like an absolute idiot.

It was hard to think about the argument now, how it felt like everything at the time and nothing now. His hand reached out for yours as he tried to ignore the tears that burned in the back of his eyes.

“Im so sorry” He mumbled out. It didn’t even begin to describe the amount of guilt he felt burnt into his stomach, and every inch of his body. He felt sick to his stomach and was almost sure he was going to throw up. “Im so sorry- God Im sorry” He couldn’t help the series of apologies that streamed from his lips, still they didn’t even slightly cover the blame he took in his mind.

“Spence” You said again, almost as if you were unable to say or think about anything else. Despite the pain medication that you had been given — everything hurt.

“Im right here— Im right here.” He repeated, moving the chair in closer, he saw a soft sigh leave your lips despite it being so quiet he couldn’t hear it. He saw your eyes closed and for a moment he genuinely felt his heart break and drop, until they opened again.

You squeeze his hand slightly, it was soft and gentle, all the energy you could muster up put into doing so. “I know. Im sorry” You apologised and it hurt Spencer.

It genuinely made him feel pain in his stomach that you were lying in a hospital bed in an abundance of pain and yet — apologising to him for an argument that seemed so insignificant now.

“Don’t.” Spencer shook his head.

“Don’t apologise, I was an ass— I deserved it. you- You didn’t deserve this. God please don’t apologise.” He almost begged.

The words died on your tongue. Whatever you were going to say now a second thought as you realised Spencer was going to drive himself insane with the guilt and blame of this.

“Its not your fault.” You huffed out.

It was enough to sooth a small part of Spencer’s mind, your voice outweighing the one in his head that held him responsible. Your comfort the one he needed. His hand squeezed yours back.

“I love you — So much. You aren’t suffocating or needy in the slightest.” He felt the need to let you know. God if something happened to you and the last thing you’d heard him say was that he thought you were something— anything other than the most important person in his life and the one who he turned to for everything, the one person he truly loved and adored

Well he would never forgive himself

“I love you” You muttered back weekly, shuffling over on the hospital bed despite the pain that coursed through your body in doing so you made room for him. “Lay with me?” You asked.

He huffed something out before shaking his head, standing up and lowering himself onto the hospital bed. He was careful of your injuries and any pain you may be in as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you” He repeated as he placed a soft kiss on the corner of your shoulder. It made a sigh leave your lips, before turning your head to face him.

“I love you.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds show #criminalmindsfans #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds one shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid

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moonchild1 · 7 months

Text

park jimin fic rec list (Ⅲ)

woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask 😊🖤

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a

↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.

a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s

↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects

↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.

so it goes by @/dovechim f s

↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.

love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a

↳ A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a

↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.

FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk

↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.

after the applause by @foxymoxynoona

↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

saved by @to-star-lake s a

rockstar au deep subjects read warnings

midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a

↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?

Easy. You forget about it.

heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s

↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well.

drifting by@hongcherry f a

↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.

growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a

↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.

tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg

↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.

stardust by @venusjeon f a

↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.

drift by @snackhobi f s

↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.

the deli diaries by @jimlingss f

↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.

best of me by @xotoosweet f a

↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.

the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a

↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

strip by @yoonia f s a

↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?

falling by @/yoonia s a

↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a

↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a

↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)

↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?

our little family by @nightbts f a

↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary

one-shot 35

brand new eyes by @missgeniality s

↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.

waves by @shina913 s

↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.

failure to communicate by @gukslut s

↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU

physical by @ppersonna f s

↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s

↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?

ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a

↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.

100km/hour by @chateautae s

↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

what it's like by @jimilter s

↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.

feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a

↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk

↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

scream your panties by @opaljm s a

↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend’s delicious self between your legs.

first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a

↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.

antifreeze by @winetae s

↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute

what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s

idol au husband au marriage au

only you by @personasintro f s a

↳ you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad

sucker by @/personasintro s a

↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a

↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"

summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a

↳ childhood friends to lovers

neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a

↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?

serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3

↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.

the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s

↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a

↳ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

blue blood by @joonbird s a

↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”

i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a

↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

locked in love by @parkmuse f s a

↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.

peaches and cream by @snackhobi s

↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost.

reset by @/dovechim s

↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.

the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s

↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes.

Unconditionally by @kstopping s a

↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.

Instinct by @evangelene f a

↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.

eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a

↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”

foul play by @kimvtae f s a

↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.

lost and found by @/kimvtae s a

↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.

if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a

↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.

the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s

↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too.

hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a

↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?

↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library

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