#everything really is not that bad out there!! in fact all of the misery that IS still in the wasteland is created specifically by like

[ruvviks]

All That's Left follows two journalists and their friends in post-apocalyptic United States as they travel from the fallen east coast megalopolis Opportunity back to Los Angeles, crossing through a harsh wasteland overrun with zombies— only to find out that there is a lot more life left than what the protected cities want them to believe. On their journey they meet dozens of people living their lives as peaceful as possible away from military forces, corporations, and corrupt governments; and they learn that the same mutated ghouls that took down Opportunity are spreading rapidly through the country, destroying everything in their path. Will this finally be the end of the world as we know it?

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@vvanessaives, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[starsinthesky5]

why do you like me so much then? || joe burrow x reader

description: why do you like him so much? everything you said made him sound like a lackluster boyfriend, so why did you like him so much?

a/n: this is either really bad, chaotic, all over the place, or just yapping. sorry. the fact that this was supposed to be a blurb?? yeah. i cannot write blurbs LOL.

thanks to @joeyb1989 and my anons for giving me inspo for this! and to joe with that sexy, bratty eyebrow raise that I can never move on from

word count: 9.2 k

warnings: angstttt, smutttt, fluff

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3 hours. That's how long it took you to get ready tonight.

You spent an uncharacteristic amount of time carefully positioning each strand of your hair, ensuring that each piece was perfectly curled and set. You made sure every piece of jewelry from your delicate necklaces to your sparkling earrings and bracelets, all of which were gifted by your boyfriend, shimmered in the warm light and reflected a soft glow. Each stroke of makeup had to look flawless to complete the look, your eye shadow blending in seamlessly as you perfected your small winged eyeliner. The silk sage green slip-on dress you wore–with a delicate lace trim–fit your body like a glove; highlighting every aspect of your beautiful figure perfectly. 

You looked amazing and you felt amazing for the first time in a long time. The past few weeks had been filled with strangeness and ambiguity and you were in desperate need of a change of pace. The strangeness came from how you and Joe had been a bit distant from each other lately, which was uncommon for you two. You were constantly attached at the hip, utterly fixated on each other to the point where the mere thought of being apart would lead to a state of misery and endless complaining. But this past month, you couldn’t be more disconnected from each other. Joe had been so wrapped up with football training this past month to the point where it felt like you two barely saw each other, and that didn't sit well with either of you. You always used to make so much time for each other no matter what, but recently it felt like you two stopped trying.

Every time you thought of planning something to do together such as a little lunch date at your favorite cafe, or a relaxed hike around the park, even just ordering takeout and eating together on the couch while watching a movie, it would always get moved or put off till the next week because Joe had something come up. Either it was more training (which was understandable), more brand shoots (somewhat understandable), or even because he wanted to hang out with the guys--completely not understandable. 

You were never the kind of girlfriend who would keep her boyfriend away from his friends, especially because you actually really liked Joe's friends and greatly appreciated the support they gave him, but when he started using them as an excuse to pass on spending time with you, that's when you became a bit bitter. You were the most understanding person when it came to the things Joe had going on in his life. You knew that he had a lot on his plate and couldn't always be fully present for you, but he always tried his best to be. Or at least he used to. 

Passing on training and brand-related work was hard, but passing on hanging out with his friends once or twice so he could go through with the plans he made with his girlfriend was fairly easy. 

It should be easy, right?

But Joe didn’t do that. He instead moved your plans to hang out with them, and that hurt. He said that you could do the lunch date, hike, or takeout food & movie evening later on, but that 'later' rarely came around. He would just get swamped with more things and you'd be so focused on your work that you couldn't bother to bring up the subject again. 

Joe noticed your increased irritation as well, but he just never said anything because he didn’t feel like it was anything serious, just you in a mood. He wasn't sure what made you so resentful all of a sudden, but he knew better than to argue with you about your sudden mood swings, especially because he knew there could be over 100 reasons for them and didn't really want to set you off even more by pointing it out. 

What Joe did notice was that you two hadn't had much one-on-one time like that recently–completely oblivious to the fact that's exactly why you were so bitter–so he decided to take the first step and offer to take you to dinner at the end of the week. You were so excited when he proposed the idea of going to dinner on Friday, looking forward to spending some much-needed quality time with the person you loved the most. He told you that he'd take you to this new steakhouse in Downtown Cincinnati and then he'd take you down to the banks so you two could lay against the grassy field and look up at the stars together, something you used to do every weekend during the off-season but something had slowly fizzled out as time went by and your weekends became a bit more intense. 

"Every star in the universe reminds me of how much I love you. You’re not just a part of my world; you are the center of my galaxy, and everything else revolves around the love we share," is what he told you the first time you went stargazing. Those special words have stuck with you ever since, especially the part about how you’re the center of his galaxy, but lately, it started to feel like the center of his galaxy had shifted to something other than you. You couldn't figure out when things shifted; those genuine, pacifying moments you two shared became scarily rare. In the back of your mind, you felt like you were losing him. Even though you weren't, it just felt like it, and that was the worst feeling out of them all. Nothing you did or he did made that thought go away. What you didn't or he didn't do is what made it worse. 

You were determined to use this date as a way to move things back on track in your relationship, hopefully even talking about how off things had been lately, so that’s why you dedicated an unusual three hours to primping and preparing. Despite your efforts to achieve perfection, Joe’s love for you was unwavering, regardless of your appearance. He adored your natural beauty, free of makeup, and cherished your tousled, messy hair. He found you just as enchanting in your old gray sweats and one of his worn-out college t-shirts that made you look oh-so tiny. You knew how indifferent he was to perfection, but you wanted everything to be excellent tonight, even if he didn't need it to be. You needed this. 

You were filled with anticipation as you imagined walking into the restaurant with him, the warmth of his hand in yours. You could almost taste the first sip of wine, feel the soft buzz it would bring, and sense the rush of emotions as you immerse yourself in the familiar and comforting bubble of your love for each other. You needed to feel that again so badly.

You took one final look in the mirror, "Damn, I look good. He’s going to love this," you whispered to yourself as your eyes navigated up and down your figure before giving yourself a small nod of approval and exiting the bathroom. You grabbed your white chanel handbag which was one of the many birthday gifts he had gotten you last month and made your way out of the shared bedroom and down the stairs, a big smile on your face as you were expecting an adorable, dressed, and ready Joe awaiting your arrival. But as you reached the last few steps, your smile dropped as you were met with the exact opposite. 

You were met with a Joe dressed in gray sweatpants and an old LSU tee whose back was facing you while he was sitting on the couch, had his headset on, and was playing video games on the TV. 

"Today is Friday, right?" you whispered to yourself as you pulled your phone to read the date, which showed that it was in fact Friday and you weren't crazy.

"Joe?" you called out as you slipped your phone back into your bag, slowly walking down the couple of steps you had left with a look of sheer confusion on your face. He didn't hear you, but you heard him.

"Aye, man. What the fuck?" he said loudly as he started aggressively pushing the buttons on his game controller. "How the hell did you get to level 10 when it's only been a week since the last time we played?".

His friends. He was playing with his friends. 

"Of course," you scoffed as you walked over to the living room where he was, throwing your handbag onto the dining table before calling out for him again. "Joe?.... Joeeeee?" you said louder from behind him, but he still didn't look back at you. 

"He has to be fucking ignoring me. There is no way his headset is this soundproof," you thought to yourself as you shook your head and walked around the couch to come into his view. 

Joe looked over and saw you walking towards him, his eyes giving you a quick once-over before settling on your soft eyes which had a slow burning fire behind them. "You look nice," he mumbled to you before looking back at the TV. While he may not have looked directly at you, his words were genuine–he couldn't help but admire your alluring beauty.

“....Thanks...,” you replied with a dubious tone. “Did you forget that it’s Friday?” you asked him as you looked over at the screen and then back down to him, no response yet again. 

“No, don’t go that way,” he warned his friends through the headset, completely ignoring what you just asked him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you thought to yourself again.

“Joe? Hellooo?” you called out again but waved your hands for him to see you from the corner of his eye, which he did but didn’t say anything. You were becoming increasingly annoyed with his lack of attention towards you, especially since you knew he could see you and see that you were trying to get his attention. 

"Do you need something?" he finally asked as he moved one side of his headset off his ear, still too focused on the game and his friends to focus in on your conversation. 

"Do I need something? Yes, I fucking need something. I need my boyfriend to go on our date with me which he promised to take me on," you thought to yourself, wanting nothing more than to scream into a pillow.

"Baby, it's Friday," you took a deep breath and said, crossing your arms as you tried to prevent yourself from flipping out on him.

"Yeah, I know," he softly laughed, putting the headset back on again and going back to the game, not even bothering to wait and listen if you had anything else to say, which you did.

You were absolutely dumbfounded by his actions; it was clear that he was intentionally overlooking you. Joe knew you wouldn't bother him like this without a good reason, especially during his video game time with his high school buddies, so his behavior was completely unjustified. 

"Did he forget?" you thought to yourself, feeling your heart break a little at the thought. There was no way he forgot, right? He was the one who planned this date, how could he forget?

Your expression softened as you asked him, "Did you forget?". You didn't really want to hear his response because deep down, you already knew the answer. Admitting it meant that he actually forgot about you.

But you didn't need to hear his response because there was no response. 

You looked back and forth between him and the TV, seeing how he was practically looking right through you and pretending as if you weren’t standing there in the most date-night outfit ever. Joe was oblivious sometimes, but he wasn’t that oblivious.  

“Fuck this,” you mumbled, deciding to take matters into your own hands since he wasn't listening and didn't look like he was planning on listening. You walked over to the TV, grabbed the plug from the outlet behind it, and yanked it so hard that you could've pulled out the entire electrical system in the wall. 

"Y/N, what the hell?" you heard from behind you, as well as the sound of Joe taking his headset off and throwing it down onto the couch. 

"Oh, so now you acknowledge my presence?" you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was genuinely confused. 

"What do you think? I called out your name like 4 times and got no response. Then when I actually got your attention, or I thought I did, you didn't even answer my question fully and brushed me off like I was just some girl," you said as you walked closer to him, the built-up bitterness inside of you begging to be released. 

"You're not just some girl," he shook his head. "You're my girlfri-," he began to say before you interrupted him. 

"Oh yeah? Then act like I am. I asked you a question and you completely ignored it and ignored me," you grumbled as you gave him a look that he instantly knew meant you were genuinely pissed off. 

"What do you mean? I did answer your question," he shrugged. 

"Fucking barely? I told you it was Friday and was hoping that would ring a bell but it didn't, and then I asked you if you forgot but you had already put your dumb fucking headset on and either didn't hear me or didn't want to hear me," you snarled, rolling your shoulders back as the tension in your body increased and put a strain on your upper body. 

"Ohhh, it's Friday? So what?" he sarcastically laughed while shaking his hands, then stood up and practically towered over you. You hated when he did this whenever you two got into a little disagreement, it felt like he was showing the power he had over you and made you feel 10 times smaller. 

"Are you serious?" you asked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks and your eyes beginning to well up with tears. It wasn't sadness that caused the tears, but a deep sense of anger. 

"What did I forget hmm? Because I'm pretty sure that I already did the laundry, cleaned up the kitchen from lunch, ordered the groceries, and watered your plants outside," he asked, the bratty tone in his voice making you want to scream into a pillow and then proceed to hit him with said pillow. 

You felt your bottom lip tremble as your entire body felt a wave of sadness overpower the anger you were feeling. 

He really forgot. 

He didn't forget to do all the other things that weren’t that big of a deal, but what he did forget was the most important thing.

"Our...our date, Joe?" you choked out, feeling a tear fall from your eye it felt like the world went silent. "Our fucking date," you said again, this time with more anger in your voice, wiping the tear trail from your cheek. So much for your flawless makeup. 

Joe's heart immediately sank at the mention of the word 'date.' He had completely forgotten about the plans you had made, the plans he had made. How could he have forgotten something like this? He knew how important this date was; it was the first time in a long time that you two got to spend alone time together away from everything. Even though he never said it, he felt awful that each time you tried to plan something together, it was pushed back for some reason and never thought about again. 

His eyes softened as he realized why you were mad, "Y/N, I'm so sorry...I forgot," he said. 

You remained quiet for a few seconds, trying to calm yourself by taking a few deep breaths but that wasn't really working. "I shouldn't be surprised you forgot, you know? I've been practically invisible to you this past month," you scoffed, a few more tears falling from your eyes unknowingly. 

"Invisible?" Joe questioned, a bit taken aback by your harsh response. Yeah, he had been spending less time with you lately, but in no way were you invisible to him. 

"Yeah, invisible. It's like I'm just not here. You've been basically avoiding spending time with me and the one time you offer to plan something, you conveniently forget. Spare me, Joe," you shook your head and said. 

"Woah, I wouldn't say I'm avoiding spending time with you?" he said as he took a step closer to you. "I've been busy, you know I've been busy,".

"I get that, but what about those times when you ditched doing something with me so you could do something with the guys? I understand if it’s because of training and stuff but getting ditched for your friends? That hurts. Especially when we already had plans but you moved them and little old me always went along with it because I didn't want to rock the boat," you cried, your tears breaking through and free-falling down your cheeks now. 

"Rock the boat? What are you...what are you even talking about?" he threw his hands in the air and asked. "What the hell is she talking about? I know we've been spending less time together, but in no way is the boat being rocked. We're fine?" he thought to himself. 

"Here you go with the oblivious act," you laughed through the tears in amusement. "Un. fucking. believable. You always do this whenever you’re in the wrong, and frankly, I’m sick of it. You're acting as if I haven't been visibly miserable the past few weeks. Oh, wait. That's just it, how would you know? I'm invisible to you," you said, your voice a little louder as the anger was once again taking over. 

"Look, I don't know what the fuck I did but I don't understand why you're blowing up over this," Joe said, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck. 

"That's just it. It's mostly what you didn't do. You didn't bother to reschedule our plans, you didn't bother to check in on me to see if I was really okay with you moving our plans, and you didn't fucking remember we were supposed to go out tonight," you yelled, your breaths becoming shorter as you felt yourself turning red from slight distress. You felt awful for yelling at him, but all of the emotions you had built up this past month were coming out at once and it was not going to be pretty. 

Joe stood in silence, his eyes fixed on you as you continued to express your disappointment with his recent behavior as your boyfriend. He felt a sense of unease as he realized the impact of his actions on your emotions. He knew he was in the wrong, but he was hoping you understood how hectic his schedule was and how that prevented him from giving his all to you recently. 

You always understood. And if you didn't, you talked to him about it. But this time you didn't do either of those things, and that made him a little upset. Communication was a big part of your relationship and although it had been pretty off this past month, he thought you would’ve said something to him if you felt this bad about everything. 

"You know, instead of yelling at me about all of this, why didn't you just talk to me about it in the first place?" he asked, now feeling a bit irritated himself. "If you felt so 'invisible' why didn't you tell me right then and there?". 

"Are you really blaming me for this?" you said, looking at him in disbelief. It was unbelievable that he was trying to ignore your feelings, especially when you rarely blew up on him like this so that should tell him that you were really hurt by all of this.

"I never…I never said that," he said while sucking his bottom lip in. "All I'm saying is that we didn't need to have this big argument about it if you just talked to me about how you were feeling before,".

"That still wouldn't change the fact that you forgot about tonight," you snapped, placing your hands on your hips. When your hands touched the smooth, silky fabric of your dress, it seemed to emphasize every curve of your body, catching Joe's gaze for a moment. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach as he admired your figure once more, taking in every detail of your stunning appearance a bit closer than he did before. "You still haven't given me a reason," you added.

Joe's frustration was growing as he felt increasingly annoyed by your words, despite his understanding that he had made a mistake. Instead of fixing the issue, your yelling was only aggravating the situation. "You know what? Fine. I forgot. Whoops. My bad," he retorted in a tone that was both monotonous and bratty. He went quiet for a moment, thinking of a devious plan to make you even more annoyed. 

But why did he enjoy making you feel irritated? Because he liked seeing you get all hot and bothered because of him. "I forgot because I was having a great time with my friends and lost track of time. I guess they were more interesting than you," he said smugly.

He knew he was being an absolute dick right now, but part of him was having fun watching you get heated over this and wanted to see you get more flustered. “Is it bad that I think she looks hot as fuck right now?” he thought to himself. 

"God, your fucking attitude pisses me off sometimes," you yelled. As you shook your head, you couldn't help but feel another wave of anger towards him, even though looking around, you realized that the issue at hand was frankly trivial. It wasn't the specific problem–forgetting about the date–that got to you, but rather the underlying feeling of frustration and disappointment that had built inside of you for the past month. Tonight was just the final blow that tipped you over the edge.  

Despite your irritating behavior and petty bickering, Joe was really turned on right now. Something about seeing that fire in your eyes, hearing that fire in your voice just got him going. You were taking charge, and he loved that even if he was pissed that you were arguing with him about something that didn’t need to be this big of a deal. You were putting him in his place and he liked that about you. He liked that you weren’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit. 

His eyes traced a slow, calculated path from your legs, to the graceful curves of your body, to the gentle contours of your breasts, then up to the curve of your neck, before finally meeting your captivatingly beautiful face. He couldn't resist the temptation to admire your compelling appearance, making it even more challenging for him to focus on the petty argument you were having. He felt bad that you got all dressed up for a date that wasn’t happening, but he did enjoy seeing your precious cheeks turn red out of anger, seeing your body tense up in a way that was practically begging for him to relieve it. 

He licked his plump lips as his eyes flashed to a darker shade of blue before saying, "Then why do you like me so much?". 

Your breath caught in your throat as you were trapped by the intense gaze in his eyes. Those dangerous, smoldering, bedroom eyes always seemed to have an irresistible effect on you. The words that followed, said in a tone that ignited a wildfire within you, made you feel an almost overwhelming urge to drop to your knees in front of him. “No, No, No. I’m mad at him. It doesn’t matter how much I would love for him to take away my ability to walk right now. Keep it together,” you thought to yourself, feeling butterflies flutter through your stomach. 

You remained quiet and continued to stare at him, watching him raise his eyebrows in the brattiest way possible as a result of how he easily silenced your bitching and moaning and because of how you had absolutely no response for him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “Cat got your tongue?”. 

“I’m not playing this game with you right now,” you rolled your eyes and snapped, starting to back up and walk away before you felt his warm hand wrap around your wrist and pull you right back to him.

A playful smirk danced across his lips as he pulled you into his embrace, immediately planting a trail of soft, teasing kisses along your neck, successfully redirecting your attention.

“Joe,” you whispered, trying to get out of his hold but struggling because of how he was holding you so tightly and pressing kisses all along your neck—your favorite spot to be kissed. “Oh fuck,” you lightly whimpered, feeling him nip and bite at your skin as he wrapped his hand around your neck and gently squeezed it. 

“Hm? Why do you like me so much then?” he mumbled as he dropped wet kisses up to your ear. “If I’m such a horrible boyfriend, why don’t you just leave?”.

“Fuck, Joe,” you accidentally moaned, feeling him start to suck on your favorite spot which made a pang of arousal shoot up your spine.  “So much for trying to keep it together,” you thought to yourself. “This has to be a massive ego boost for him,”. 

It definitely was. He took pride in knowing that he could so easily make you forget about your anger towards him by simply doing what he did best, skillfully and attentively worshiping every inch of your body.

“Hm,” he laughed against you. “I guess that’s why you don’t leave,” 

“You’re being a brat,” you said a few seconds later as you threaded your fingers through his frosted tips, pushing his head closer to your neck. Your actions are a complete juxtaposition to the words that came from your mouth. You were mad at him, but you weren’t acting like it. The sounds leaving your lips, your needy touch, it was all the complete opposite of what you were saying.

“No, you’re being a brat,” he said as he moved out of your neck and looked into your firey eyes. 

He had some nerve to be calling you a brat right now. You weren’t the one that had been ignoring him tonight or the one that had been brushing him off all month. “Go fuck yourself, Joe,” you spat out, the bitterness evident in your words, but it seemed to have little effect on him.

“How about you fuck me instead?” he boldly said while giving you the same tempting, inviting eyebrow raise again. 

“If he looks at me like that again, I swear to god I’m going to end up pregnant. Fuck. Why does he have to look at me like that when I’m trying to be mad at him,” you thought to yourself. Gradually, the intense anger, sadness, and constant irritation towards him turned into strong feelings of fierce desire, urgent need, and passionate emotion.

As you stood face to face, a noticeable tension filled the air, the heat rising as if a fire had been torched between you. His passionate gaze reached into you, sending jolts of electricity through the space. It felt as though he was silently expressing that he had the power to make you forget everything, if only you would allow him to.

And god you wanted him to. 

You quickly reduced the space between you both and smashed your lips against his, his hands dropping down to your waist and holding you tightly as a smirk rose on his lips. “Told you. This is why you don’t leave,” he whispered in between the messy kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, completely melting under his fervent touch. 

“Shut up,” you smirked as you trailed kisses along his jaw before he pulled your lips back to his, both of your bodies calling each other’s names as you got lost in each other. 

He moves his big hands down to your ass, giving each cheek a gentle squeeze before whispering, “Jump,” in between the kiss. You do as he says, jumping and wrapping your legs around his middle as he holds you tightly, walking towards the stairs and taking you straight to the bedroom, all without breaking the restless kiss.

A few minutes later, you’re both naked and lying on the bed as Joe spends a bit more time peppering kisses along your neck, your neediness getting more and more vocal as he refuses to do the thing you actually need him to do. 

“Joe, please,” you whimpered as you felt his nose brush against your jaw while he sucked on a spot on your neck, your body squirming under his large frame.

“You can’t be mad at me like that and expect me to give you what you want so easily,” he smirks after he moves from your neck and looks into your eyes with mischievous intent. 

“Fuck you,” you scoffed while tilting your head to the side and refusing to look at him.

“Oh you will, all in due time, baby,” he whispered in your ear, then gently lifted you up in a tender embrace and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Straight across from the mirror. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask him as he sets you in his lap, both of you facing the mirror.

“You see that, Y/N?” he asks as he points to you in the mirror. “That’s you,” he adds as he continues to look up and starts to press wet kisses around your shoulder. His hand snakes around your waist, rubbing your belly with his long fingers as they start to navigate down to your thigh. 

“I know,” you sigh, tilting your head to the side as his kisses get closer to your neck.

“You’re not invisible, baby,” he says as he plants kisses in a path up to your ear as his fingers move down to your core aching core. “You’re right here,” he whispers, a moan escaping your lips as you feel his fingers slide against your wet heat. 

“Joe,” you whimper tipping your head back and closing your eyes, the feeling of his hot body underneath you combined with the feeling of his long fingers at the place where you need him the most becoming too much for you.

“I see you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear, the tip of his cold nose pressed against it. “I always see you, I always hear you. You’re not invisible,” he says before pressing a kiss to the corner of your ear, then pressing his fingers against your sensitive clit. 

“Ah, Joe,” you moaned, feeling a jolt of pleasure rip through your body. Before you can move your head back forward to say something, you feel his fingers dip inside your core with no warning, earning another sound of pleasure from your lips. “Fuck,” you moaned as you practically melted into his embrace even more. 

His fingers begin to pump in and out of your core, more soft groans and whimpers falling from your lips as he drops slow, hot kisses around your face. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he rasps as he drops his head down to your shoulder again, spending more time cherishing that part of your body. 

The sensation of his skillful fingers stretching you out and filling you makes you want to forget about everything that happened. Joe always had the ability to make you forget your worries and tensions in an instant, but this might have been a new record. 

“Joe, please…I..,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his as your body begs for more.

"Hmm, it's not that easy, baby," he says with a smirk, his voice oozing with cockiness. You can sense the power he holds over you, and it's clear that he finds it entertaining. He is fully aware of the effect he has on you and revels in it. You hated that he could easily get you like this, but you loved it so fucking much. 

His fingers continue to thrust in and out of your core, his touch becoming hotter by the second as you feel yourself inch closer to your release. “You don’t sound like you’re mad at me,” he said as he used his other hand to push your head forward so that you were looking in the mirror again. 

“Fuck,” you moaned when you saw his captivating dark blue eyes at the same time as you felt his fingers hit the spot inside of you. “I…I’m so…mad at you,” you struggled to get out, a whimper squeezing in between your words. 

“Sure,” he chuckled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, increasing the pace of his fingers.

You watched as his fingers disappeared in and out of your dripping heat, faint sounds of your wetness filling the room as you slowly moved your eyes back up to meet his. The look he had told you a number of things; he was horny as hell (just like you), he was enjoying seeing you struggle like this, and he was genuinely sorry about everything. 

The apologetic twinkle in his eyes produced a profound and intense emotion within you, igniting a powerful and overwhelming feeling. He was fully aware of his mistake and this was his way of expressing it to you. “Joe,” you screamed as you felt the band in your stomach tighten, your body gently trembling above him as you felt overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“Look at you, you’re right there, Y/N. Not hidden, not transparent, and certainly not fucking invisible. Especially not to me,” he whispered in your ear, his husky, raspy voice being the final thing you needed to tip right over the edge.

You feel an intense, deep, and warm feeling pool in your belly, you were so so so painfully close. But just to your surprise, Joe suddenly pulls his fingers out of your core, earning a dissatisfied shriek from your lips. “What the fuck, Joe,” you panted, your core pulsing at the tension that was still there, the tension you thought he’d release for you.  

“Told you,” he smirked as he looked into your eyes through the mirror. “Not easy,”, a soft kiss landing on your shoulder before you feel yourself being lifted up again, turned around, and pushed down to the bed a little roughly. 

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” you groaned at him a few seconds later, your eyes having that fire in them that he so desperately loved. 

“That’s your job, baby,” he winked as he kneeled down on the bed, hovering over you. “But, I’ll be nice for a little bit and help you out,”. 

You’re about to open your mouth to say something, but before you can, he smashes his lips against yours and rests the head of his hard cock at the entrance of your core. “You want me to give you attention? Here you go,” he mumbles a few seconds later with a cocky grin, and then you feel him push into you with a roughness that drove you wild.

“Ah, Joe,” a guttural moan escaping your lips as you scrunch your nose, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He was wasting no time with you, and you loved that. 

A jolt of pleasure rips through your body again as he starts to move inside of you, his movements so thorough and intense but rough at the same time. His hand firmly grasps your waist, communicating a sense of possession and intimacy, making it clear to you that you belong entirely to him. 

His body was telling you that you weren’t losing him, that you could never lose him. You could never lose him because he would never let you, he’d never let go of you. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned as he felt your hands travel to his hair, gently tugging on the strands as you rested your lips on his neck. He begins to snap his hips against yours hard, every thrust sending you further back into the bed and making you forget about everything that ever bothered you in your entire life. 

“Joe…fuck, I’m…,” you panted. “Fuck,” you trailed off.

“I know, baby. I know,” he smiled.

He continues to thrust into you and sets a pace that makes you feel like you’re practically flying through the clouds. It feels euphoric the way he knows exactly how to send your body to its pleasure, almost other-worldly. He was just so good at it. 

The way he was worshipping your body, basically fucking the anger out of you was something your brain couldn’t comprehend. He was the only person who was capable of doing this to you, getting you so frustrated, hot, and bothered, and then having you completely and utterly raw the next second–emotionally and physically. 

Joe was aware that your anger towards him and his recent behavior stemmed from genuine pain. He deeply regretted causing you this pain and slapped himself mentally, repeatedly, for making you feel invisible, even for a second. You were the center of his galaxy, and he needed you to know that you still were and nothing had changed. 

He moves his lips back to yours, capturing them in an intimate kiss that stifles your moans. The delicious feeling of his cock filling you up and his lips against yours is all you could have ever wanted. The way he was moving against you was creating a haze in your brain, almost like a lavender haze. 

The haze surrounded you, signaling that you were immersed in a love that consumed every part of you. 

Joe consumed every part of you. He was the lavender haze, and you wanted to stay in that haze for as long as humanly possible. 

Even though you were mad at him, you couldn’t stay mad at him. He loved you and you knew that, and now he was showing you that he did. This was his way of reassuring you that he was right here with you. 

“Baby,” he moaned, feeling himself get lost in the pleasure you were bringing him. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned. 

“Joe, my god,” you whimpered, feeling your already built-up release getting stronger again. “I’m so close,” you whined, feeling him somehow quicken his pace. You looked down at him, watching how he roughly pounded into your wet heat and how his muscular body was glowing in the soft light of your bedroom. 

“Cum for me, baby. I know you’re there,” he moaned in your ear before dropping his head to your neck. 

“Ah,” you whimper, feeling your body start to tremble again, you were just seconds away from letting go. 

One particular hard, well-placed thrust later, you were screaming his name as you pushed your head back into the pillow to brace yourself for your orgasm. You felt like a dam had just burst, and the pressure built against it was finally free. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through your body as Joe keeps hammering into you and each time you feel your high come down, it shoots right back up because of his movements. The feeling of your walls wrapping around him, squeezing and hugging his cock made him smile, almost as much as the sound of his name leaving your lips like a sacred chant. 

“Joe,” you whispered, feeling yourself finally come down from your peak. You looked down and saw that he was still moving inside of you, trying to reach his own peak. “Joe,” you said again as you threaded your hands into his hair and lifted his head, “Flip us,”. 

He looked at your glossed-over eyes with his tired ones, a dirty smirk forming on his lips at the idea of what you were asking him to do. “Okay,” he winked, wrapping his big hands around your torso and easily flipping you over all in one go. Despite how tired he was physically, he could never be too tired for you.

“He’s so fucking strong. Fucking hell,” you thought to yourself as you straddled his waist, taking in his tousled golden curls, his thick muscular chest which was coated with a thin layer of sweat, and then his large cock–which was practically calling for you. 

You grabbed his erection, guiding the tip between your drenched folds as you saw his face contort in pleasure and a hiss leaving his lips–he was close. You lifted your hips from his and sat up on your knees before lining up his cock with your core and sinking straight down onto it.  “Oh, fuck,” he moaned as he closed his eyes, his hands landing right on your ass with a light ‘slap’. 

You leaned forward and placed your hands on his pecs, sliding up and down his cock at the same pace he was pounding into you. “Yeah,” you whispered as you felt yourself feel a shock of pleasure coarse through your vein, just as Joe felt coursing inside of him. 

“Y/N, baby,” he groaned, “You feel so good, fuck,” he said while digging his head back into the pillow, having the time of his life watching you take over and ride him into oblivion. 

“I know,” you said to him with a cocky grin which made him raise his eyebrows again, the same way he did earlier. 

It was that same bratty, sexy, that made you think ‘get me pregnant right the fuck now’ eyebrow raise. 

“Fuck,” you moaned after you saw him raise his eyebrows and his cock hit that spot inside of you. 

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, feeling his ego shoot up because even though you were in ‘control’, he was still, actually in control. Especially over you, and it was so obvious. 

You continued to slide up and down his length, occasionally moving back and forth as his moans got louder and his grip on you got tighter. His eyes were fixated on your breasts that were bouncing up and down right in his view, his hands were stuck to your ass and were kneading your plush skin, and his hips were starting to thrust up into you. 

“I’m close, fuck,” he moaned as he felt your walls tighten around him–you were close too, again. 

“O- oh, fuck,” you whimpered while falling forward, your chest pressed against his. “Joe, you’re so fucking…,” you trailed off as a moan interrupted your sentence. “I’m gonna cum,” you whispered against his swollen, plump lips.

“Y- yeah, me too,” he panted, snapping his hips into yours harder. A few seconds later, your bodies moved against each other in perfect harmony for the final time as both of your releases hit at the same time, both of you feeling like your breaths had just been taken away by the intensity of your orgasms. 

“Joe,” you screamed, feeling your high hit you again like a ton of bricks, stars filling your eyes as your second release soaked your lower halves as you felt Joe’s cock twitch inside of you.  

“Fuck, Y/N…oh my god,” he rasped as he shot hot spurts of cum inside your wet, hot cunt, slowly thrusting whatever came out back into your core. His hands were gripping your hips now, so incredibly tightly that you were sure they would leave a small bruise. You looked down and saw how his nose was scrunched up, how his bottom lip was stuck between his teeth, and how his eyes were filled with love, regret, and admiration towards you. 

A couple of minutes later, you were both lying next to each other, trying to catch your breath and make sense of everything that happened in the past hour or so. Joe turned his head to the side to look at you, taking note of how you were biting away at your bottom lip–something you did when you were anxious.

You were in fact anxious. Your argument was bad, and whatever happened on this bed was amazing, but where did it actually get you? Yeah, you were much calmer and in your senses (kind of?) for the most part, but you had hardly talked about the reason you two even got to this point. 

Joe, with a mix of feelings, let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. He gently put his arm around your bare shoulder, pulling you close to his warm chest. Amid your overwhelming confusion, he became your safe haven even though he was the reason you were confused in the first place.

You felt the gentle touch of his lips as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He then rested his mouth and nose against it, inhaling your natural fragrance. This simple act brought him a unique sense of comfort that no one else, not even his friends, could provide. It was this deep connection that made him realize the need to apologize to you. You were right, you were always right.

“Baby?” he asked you, causing you to look up at him with your tired eyes.

“Y- yeah?” you rasped, your voice scratchy from the activities you were partaking in just a few minutes ago. 

“I’m so, and I mean so fucking sorry for what I did,” he sighed. “I really didn’t mean to make you feel invisible or ignored this past month, you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry that I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve lately, especially because you do so much for me, more than anyone ever has or ever will,” he sniffled, his eyes welling with tears. 

“Joe,” you pouted, moving your hand to cup his soft cheek and rubbing your thumb under his eye, seeing how glossy his eyes got all of a sudden. “It’s okay, I promise,”.

“It’s not, Y/N,” he said with another gentle kiss to your forehead. “I told you that you were the center of my galaxy, and you are. I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t anymore, that’s so fucked up. I should’ve talked to you about all of this and shouldn’t have expected you to say something first. I was the one that needed to get myself straight and I’m so sorry that I let things get to this point,”.

You felt his hand moving in gentle, soothing circles on your back, providing a comforting and secure touch. In his arms, your worries and tensions seemed to melt away in two distinct ways: the intimacy you shared in the bedroom, and the reassuring feeling of his current actions.

“I just felt like I was losing you,” you admitted. “I was scared that we were drifting apart and I just-,”.

“No,” he interrupted. “You’re not losing me, baby. You’re never going to lose me,” he softly said as he moved his hands into your hair. “I’m not gonna let that happen, not now and not in 15 years when we’re middle-aged and have two kids running around and are arguing about who has to drive the kids to school the next morning,” he smiled.

A soft chuckle left your lips as you imagined what he was saying, an image of your promising future with Joe filled your mind–and it was oh-so sweet. “Obviously you. I need beauty sleep,” you chuckled. 

“Noted,” he smiled as he pulled you closer to him as if you weren’t already stuck to him like glue. He opened his mouth to say something again, and the tone of his voice knew that what he was about to say could easily make you cry,  “I don't think I could find the right words to describe the depth of my love for you. What I feel for you overpowers any other emotion I've ever experienced. It's as if my soul has finally found its missing piece in you. I will choose you, again and again, without hesitation. No one else can make me feel the way you do. You mean everything to me. When I look at you, I see my life partner, my best friend, my everything. You have the unique ability to improve every aspect of my life–every laugh becomes brighter, and every tough day feels more manageable because you're there for me. You have given me a type of love that I never thought possible, and I'll forever treasure the way you've positively impacted my life. My love for you is something I'll wholeheartedly protect because no one else will ever have my heart the way you do. From the moment we met, I felt something unique about you. I've never loved anyone the way I love you, and I know I never will. You're my heart, my soul, and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. No one else will ever come close to producing the feelings I have for you, and I'll always do everything in my power to ensure you feel as cherished and adored as you deserve.” he said while playing with your messy hair. 

You felt tears falling from your eyes after he finished talking, you didn’t even realize when you started crying, but you were. “Wait, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he softly said as he leaned down and cleaned up your tears by placing kisses on each droplet. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, his softness so adorable and genuine. 

“It’s okay, Joey,” you grinned, a few sniffles coming from your nose. “I’m crying because of how much I love you. What you said…that means a lot,”. 

“I mean it, Y/N. I’m genuinely so sorry for tonight, for this past month, for all of it. You are always number 1 for me and I need to show you that more from now on. I don’t deserve you at all, but I have you, and I won’t overlook something as valuable as you or not take advantage of the fact that you, this amazingly sweet, sexy, empathetic, down-to-earth, incredibly genuine, kindhearted, funny & sometimes slightly boring…” he started to say before you interrupted him.

“Ouch,” you giggled as you patted his chest, earning a soft chuckle from him.  

“...boring but unpredictable, loving, insanely beautiful, and charismatic girl has my heart in her hands,” he finished saying. “I love you, Y/N. I need to do better for you, and from this moment on I will. You deserve to be loved with 150% effort and I’m going to make sure you do. The guys can wait. I’ve spent enough time with them for them to go a couple of weeks, even months without seeing me. It’s you and me now and forever,” he said to you, his soft, loving eyes acting as a mirror to his soul–which showed his genuine and raw intentions and were exactly as he was describing to you. 

“I love you, Joe,” you smiled as you felt him brush his lips against your lips before planting a deep, passionate kiss to them. 

“Time to get things back on track,” he said a few seconds later, sitting up on the bed and bringing you with him. “It’s too late for our dinner reservation but I’m going to get it shifted to tomorrow. Tonight we’re going to the banks for some stargazing and a late-night picnic. We can pick up some pizza and ice cream from that place by the stadium on our way,” he nodded, talking you through the plan as if he had thought about this deeply, but he didn’t. He was coming up with all this on the fly. “Then tomorrow morning after we wake up, we can go on a little hike in that part by my parent’s house in Athens. It’ll be a drive but we can hike around there since it’s so pretty this time of the year and see my parents, maybe even get lunch with them at our favorite cafe over there before heading back home for dinner tomorrow night. On Sunday, it’s a full lazy day inside. We’re going to stay in our pajamas all day, do a Twilight movie marathon because I remember you saying you want me to watch them with you, order food to the house for lunch and dinner, maybe even bake some cookies or something, and then spend the rest of the day in bed. Preferably with no clothes,” he grinned. 

You were left speechless as you looked at him, impressed by how effortlessly he had drafted these plans without considering his own weekend schedule. The sight of him thinking on the spot filled you with affection, and your heart swelled with a mix of emotions. 

You leap forward and wrap your arms around his neck as you smother his face with gentle kisses, “I loveeeeee youuuuuuuuu,” you giggle, feeling him wrap his arms around your waist and hearing his soft chuckles in your ear. 

“I love you too, baby. You’re the shining force at the center of my galaxy, the light that everything else revolves around. Like the planets drawn to their sun, my life is pulled by your existence, and I know that for us to thrive, our orbit needs to be steady. Every moment with you is a delicate balance of love, trust, and effort–each one keeping us aligned, making sure our world doesn’t drift apart. I’ll protect that balance, making sure that no matter what forces try to interfere, we stay on track, always revolving around the core of what we’ve built together," he says to you, his heartfelt words, his embrace, the genuine look in his eyes all making you fall deeper in love with him.

"This is why I like you so much," you grin as you meet his baby blues, answering his question from earlier.

"What do you mean?" he asks you, licking his lips as he uses his hand to move his hair back.

"I like you because you're the most thoughtful, raw, incredibly well-spoken, smartest, nerdiest, most adorable and manly, genuine person I've ever met in my entire existence. You make me mad sometimes, but you also know exactly how to fix what you did and make everything even better than it was before. You're always making an effort to fix things. Yeah, you can be a dick, asshole, and oblivious idiot sometimes...,".

"Hey!" he gasps, acting like he was offended over what you said.

"But you're my obvious idiot and I love you for everything you are. You love me, like really love me and I know that and you never fail to make me know that. Also because you're like super sexy and I can't get enough of you and that damn eyebrow raise," you giggled.

"Oh, you like that?" he asked, giving you that eyebrow raise again.

"Do that again and we're staying in this bed the rest of the night," you smiled at him and said. "I might even end up pregnant by the end of it,".

Joe was stunned at your words, "Damn, so you really like that," he slowly nodded with a smirk.

"Really may be an understatement. Just know that you don't want to be inside my brain whenever you do that eyebrow raise," you winked. "I don't think we have enough anti-horny spray to get rid of the thoughts in my head,".

"Being perpetually horny is good for the soul, babe. Embrace it," Joe smiled as he leaned in and slowly kissed you in a way that made your toes curl and your body light on fire.

He fell back down against the pillows and brought you down with him. "Joe," you said in between the kiss, "We have to go," you smiled.

"Another round won't hurt," he said while giving you the eyebrow raise again, now knowing what it did to you.

You rolled your eyes, "Fuck, you're going to use that every damn time from now on, aren't you?".

"Maaaybe," he grinned as he brought you back down to his soft lips.

–The End–

[0mg-bird]

Look Of Love~ S. Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: All the moments you had to tell him exactly how you feel, and yet it comes down to this one, where the words ‘I love you’ might save his life.

Warnings: Violence, angst, Reid being a kicked puppy, blood, tw! Tobias Hankel!

Season 2 Reid x Fem! Agent! Reader

Everything was going fine, wasn’t it? Well, about as fine as you can consider a case about a serial killer who believes he’s doing the work of God, to go.

But he was fine.

And that was what made things fine.

Well, until the whole thing crumbled and there was a sharp pain in your lungs that isn’t about to cease. JJ and Spencer left to find the location of Tobias Hankel’s home, that was about an hour ago. You had watched as he holstered his gun, preparing to get into the car and leave you.

“You’re still not coming with me.” He says towards your silent pining.

“Spence.” You argue, though he just turns to look at you amused.

“We’re just going to talk to this guy, he’s just a witness. They need you here.” He reasons, reassuring you with a smile.

His words always seemed to calm you down, it’s like magic, the Reid effect. So you nodded and rolled your eyes as he tucked your hair behind your ears, a quirk he’s always done because he knows how much you hate your pointy ears.

There was no argument, you and Spencer were the closest ones out of the rest. It’s a kind of peaceful friendship, the two of you just played in harmony so well. He knew all of your secrets, you knew almost all of his, and you weren’t shy to tug on his arm or secretly join your hand in his under the table during meetings. Spencer was more than okay with it, learning that’s just how you act with people you are comfortable with.

And while the two of you were convinced it wasn’t a relationship the team would bat an eye at, your friends often had secret discussions in regard to you.

“This whole ‘friendship’ scheme…do they really buy it?” Emily asked one morning as she watched you take a drink of coffee and cringe at the too sweet taste, then give it to Reid and take the one he had been drinking.

Reid isn’t a fan of germs.

But in his mind, yours aren’t so bad.

“Oh no, they’re still convinced they’re just close friends.” Morgan chuckled, answering the woman’s question.

“She loves him.” JJ added in a matter of fact tone. “It’s honestly a little sad…she doesn’t want to admit it out loud.”

“Why?” Emily’s brows furrow.

“Afraid she’ll ruin the friendship.” Morgan simply says.

At that, the female agent scoffs. “Reid’s obviously in love with her, no friend looks at another friend that way.”

They watch intently at the eye contact being shared, and how expressions change when Reid walks away from you.

“They look like kicked puppies.” JJ frowns. “Morgan, go talk to him, I can’t stand this anymore.”

The man looks at her in confusion. “And say what? I can’t just tell a man how he feels.”

Emily argues. “Reid doesn’t know what he feels, he’s confused, put him out of his misery.”

As Morgan goes to open his mouth, Hotch appears with his signature scowl and the conversation was dropped and done with.

Though it was never forgotten.

The entire team saw the lovesickness between the two of you…and yet, you couldn’t fix it.

There were plenty of times you could have confessed, many perfect moments that were ruined by your fear of the feeling not being mutual.

And after a while, the words seemed to try and escape on their own accord. Like in the moment he goes to leave and you call to him one last time.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit?” He said, scanning your face intently like he always seemed to do.

“Yeah, see you soon, I lo-”

Your heart beats loudly in your ears and you seal your lips, feeling betrayed by your own words. He looks at you, puzzled, then leaves.

You should have told him.

You should have just told him.

Because now, gun drawn, searching Hankel’s house, Spencer is no where to be found.

JJ was in the barn out back, looking rather disheveled and scared when she was found, but she was safe and unharmed and Spencer was gone.

“We thought he was just a witness, I swear. Then Reid figured out he was the UnSub and...” JJ said to you over and over, feeling guilt in her bones, blaming herself for his abduction. She swore that she should’ve stayed with him, not split up like he said to. She means well…you just can’t think straight.

The team stayed inside the house overnight, working off of minimal hours of sleep, and daybreak came and you were sitting on the couch with your head in your hands, thinking of some plan on how you were going to find him.

“Hey.” Penelope greeted as you walk into the room with a multitude of computers she was searching for any clues.

“Hey.” You sigh, leaning on the desk beside her. “Anything yet?”

She shakes her head. “No, sweet pea.”

You watch the videos of war and destruction on the screens, the right kind of fuel for a split personality maniac like Hankle.

“If Tobias is living as three people, and his father is the one that’s the evil side of his brain, then I think that’s who has taken Reid. We’ve been thinking like Tobias, we need to be thinking like his dad, right?” You question, turning to Morgan as he walks into the room.

He nods. “It’s a good idea, yeah.”

Suddenly, the computer screens in front of the three of you go black.

“What happened?” Morgan asks.

“I don’t know…” Penelope answers…

She tries to get the screens back up, but to all of your surprise, the live stream that comes on is something more horrific than what you were previously watching.

“Spencer.” The name leaves you as well as all the air in your lungs.

There he was, your pretty boy, sat in a chair, bloody and bruised and out of it.

Morgan yells for the others, but you’re frozen in place.

“Track him, Pen.” You say in a panic.

“I can’t, Hankle is only streaming this to his home computer.” She says in disbelief.

“What do you mean?” You worry. “This is some kind of joke? This is just for us to see?”

She nods slowly.

The team watches closely, listening to the way Hankle forces Reid to choose an innocent couple to get murdered.

You seriously think you’re going to be sick.

He struggles on the screen, choosing someone to be spared torture instead.

And as fast as he was in front of you, he’s gone from the live feed even faster. You stare at the blank screen with red eyes, then leave the room completely.

A full day wasted, you weren’t close enough to find him. You go back to couch and prepare for another sleepless night.

~~

At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep, because you wake with a start at the feeling of something being different.

You make your way to the computer room where everyone is hunched over, looking at a map Penelope brings up.

“Good, you got some sleep.” Hotch says, barely sparing you a glance as you enter.

“What’s going on?” You ask, leaning into Morgan’s side.

“We think we found him.” He says to you, watching your eyes widen.

“What?” Your voice cracks and any lingering feeling of sleep is gone.

“We’re heading out in five.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Tying your hair up and rubbing your face, you pull a kevlar vest on and cinch the velcro shut. The entire car ride to the little shack, you’re twitching.

Everyone shares a look, because the way you act now is the whole reason they didn’t wake you when the live feed was back up. If you were to watch the way Reid was being beaten, Gideon isn’t sure you could handle it.

The team storms the shack, and you try hard not to lose hope when you come up empty handed yet again.

You curse to yourself. “They were here.”

“They couldn’t have gotten far, they’re on foot.” Hotch nods, immediately turning back out to search the cemetery you were in.

On high alert, you search through the dark, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“We’re gonna find him.” Morgan promises, but you can’t focus on anything besides locating Reid.

Closer and closer, you can almost feel it in your bones, the way your instincts guid you in a direction.

The only thing that halts your step is the sound of a single gun shot.

No.

No, it wasn’t going to end like this. It couldn’t.

Quickly, you head to that noise with your partners following after you.

“Spencer!” You shout, voice raw. “Spence?”

He looks up from Tobias’ body, and it’s like the entire world stops spinning. He’s there, he’s alive, he’s breathing ragged breaths and it’s all okay.

Hotch is there to help him to his feet, guiding him to stumble forward until he gains his footing. His head is dizzy and his hearing might be a little echoey but in a single moment, you’re there.

He grips onto you like you’re his lifeline, and you wrap your arms around him, stumbling to support his weight. A hand in his dirty hair, he feels your touch and knows you have to be real. That it’s your real form here that’s fighting to hold back tears and not the visions he’d see when he was out of it.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” You promise, knowing he might not realize he’s shaking and mumbling.

Pulling back just a few inches, he’s leaning his forehead to yours and breathing too quickly.

“Hey, hey.” You say softly, gently cupping his face. “Look at me, Spencer, look at me, sweetheart.”

He sees the deep look in your worried eyes and tries to form a sentence, but for once, his big brain can’t figure out what to say.

You do though.

And for once, you aren’t scared to say it. Actually, you’re afraid of not saying it.

“Spence.” You breathe out, he breathes in like your air is what matters. Your hand gently smooths blood soaked hair back, trying to get him to calm down.

He says your name in reassurance to himself.

“Hey, I’m right here.” You say. “I’m right here, and I love you.”

His brain fog seems to clear, his confused brown eyes are searching your face like they always tend to do, and those three words are making a small smile pull on his cracked lips.

~~

The hospital trip is almost too brief, just enough for him to get checked out and cleaned up, then you’re back on the plane to head home.

Curled in the corner of the small couch, you are barely asleep like the others, listening to music, head leaned against the wall. That’s before gentle hands pull your headphones off your ears.

Your eyes open and turn to see Spencer, sitting down beside you.

“Hey.” You whisper.

He sets the headphones down. “Hi.”

“You feel okay?” You ask, noticing the way he pulls your knees away from your chest so you sit normally.

He nods. “I feel about as good as someone who just got beat up would.”

You smile at his humor.

He tucks the hair framing your face, behind your ears, as always. “I was in and out of consciousness when you found me, I think, so I need to make sure that you actually said it and I wasn’t just lucid dreaming.”

You reach up to grab his hands. “Said what?”

He takes a deep breath. “That…you love me?”

His eyes are hopeful and wide, that’s what makes you nod.

“You weren’t imagining it…I love you, Spence.”

A smile forms on his face. “That’s good then.” He says, sure of himself.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

That when he flips your hold of his hands and joins one in his. “Because I love you too.”

There it was, the confession you’ve wanted for so long. There’s a moment of silence, then your free hand cups his jaw and he moves so close, your lips part just to breathe out slowly and then he’s there. Kissing you.

It’s soft, like you’ve been doing this for years.

He licks his lower lip after he pulls away, trying to savor the taste. Brushing your forehead to his for a second, you lean back and motion for him to follow. There’s no words that need to be spoken as he makes himself a bed in your lap, lying on his side that hurts the least and presses his face into your stomach.

Out like a light, the both of you.

Morgan nudges Emily a while later when they both wake, and he motions over to the lump on the couch. The woman grins.

“It took no interference at all.” She says.

Morgan smirks. “Nope, just a near death experience.”

Hotch scowls as usual. “We’re going to have to talk to HR about this.”

[feeder86]

Maxed Out!

Those few seconds were pure heaven. Josh’s jaw dropped when he saw his new neighbor step out of his truck and start strutting a little way up the path towards his front door. Out from the corner of his curtains, he gasped at the man’s beautiful face and imposingly strong body; his t-shirt fitting impeccably well, the biceps on full show and the delicious pecs thrusting themselves forwards. Never in his life had he seen a man he had admired quite so much. But then the guy turned, giving Josh a great shot of his tight, muscular glutes and strong thighs on full display in only a pair of tight gym shorts. He was going back to the truck, the passenger door opening where a guy was just getting out as well. Like a gentleman, he went straight to him, took his hand and eased him out.

That was when the moments of bliss ended. Just as Josh was getting over the disappointment that his hunky, new gay neighbor was not single, the image of his boyfriend made his breath catch in his throat. It was a face he hadn’t seen in almost ten years and had dearly hoped he would never see again. He could feel his heart racing and his eyes bulging. It couldn’t be! Nathan? The guy who had made Josh’s high school existence an absolute misery. Fuck! Was he going to be moving in right next door? Josh wouldn’t be able to cope with that. Surely he wasn’t such a bad person that he would be deserving of this?

As if to rub salt in the wound, the beautiful, new, incredibly tall guy stooped down to kiss Nathan on the lips and he wrapped his strapping arm over his shoulders, both of them gazing upon the house they had just purchased. In his shock, Josh hadn’t realised that he had strayed out from behind the curtain, only noticing how exposed he was when the new guy caught his stare and smiled at him, waving politely at Josh through his window. 

Instinctively, Josh threw himself back, filled with embarrassment. He couldn’t let Nathan see him. No way! Everything he had done in life seemed to evaporate: his successful career, his weight loss. He was reduced to being that shy, overweight, 280lbs eighteen year old boy no-one wanted to be friends with.

Josh swallowed. He really had come a long way since those days. Back then, he had been timid and unsure of himself at the all-boys school he attended with Nathan. He hadn’t been able to make friends quite like Nathan could, seemingly effortlessly. And, despite the fact that they were both out about their sexualities, it was only ever Josh who was made fun of for it; alongside his large, round belly and broad, dimpled, under exercised butt. In fact, rather bizarrely, the abuse was usually instigated by Nathan himself, who wanted to position himself as the cool, sporty and fun gay guy of the year group, doing his best to ensure that any homophobic bullying was sent Josh’s way instead. The tactic worked flawlessly. 

Since then, Josh had fully embraced his sexuality and now maintained his low weight for over two years. College had been awesome and everyone in the neighborhood loved him here. So why hide out and pretend that he didn’t have the courage to face his old demons head on? Without even registering what his body was doing, Josh found his feet were suddenly leading him out of the door. It was, once again, that ridiculous side of himself, so desperate to please; the part of him that had made him such a target in high school; that made him open his own front door and smile at them both warmly in greeting,

“Hello!” he sang, wanting so desperately to speak only to the new guy, yet unable to tear his eyes from Nathan as the boy visibly grimaced in recognition of Josh. “Congratulations on the new house!” he smiled, hearing a slight crack in his voice.

As if sensing his lover’s disdain, the handsome, new guy looked down at his boyfriend in amusement. Nathan was being rude, and he knew it, so he unhooked his arm from his shoulder and strolled across the grass to shake Josh’s hand alone. “Nice to meet you,” he smiled in a deep, charming tone that sent a spark of lust through Josh’s whole body. “My name is Max,” he explained, turning back to his boyfriend and pondering. “But something tells me you two already know each other already…” he grinned, as if this scenario was all quite funny to him.

“Yes!” Josh tried to smile; his heart beating a mile a minute and feeling like his whole body had been transported back ten years as he was staring into the eyes of his bully, desperate to get away unharmed. “We were in school together,” he nodded, noticing for the first time that Nathan wasn’t quite as slim as he had been back then. His stomach was slightly thicker, as were his thighs and chest. He had a slight puddle of fat under his chin that should have given Josh confidence, considering all the weight he himself had lost in the last two years to become the slim, healthy-looking, pretty boy at long last. But… it didn’t. Despite being in the best shape of his life, Josh still felt like the fat boy Nathan used to target every day. “It’s lovely to see you again, Nathan!” he tried.

Nathan scowled and huffed. “Sure. You too,” he spat insincerely, averting his eyes back to Max straight away. “Honey, could you get my box from the back of the truck?”he asked.

Max sighed, playfully rolling his eyes at Josh. “Sure thing, Honey,” he called back, ripping off his t-shirt to reveal the incredible, muscular physique underneath as he prepared to set to work unloading.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Josh asked them both, like a glutton for punishment. All he really wanted to do was to get inside and hide away.

Max seemed to look him over; his thin physique and 150lb frame, dressed smartly in a well ironed shirt. “No,” he replied, assessing Josh to be fairly useless for the physical moving and carrying that would be his chore for the next hour. “I’ll be fine,” he smiled, giving him a charming wink.

Nathan waited until Max was out of earshot. It was a tactic Josh remembered well, already bracing himself. “You can stop looking at Max like that,” he grunted at him. “We’re not friends,” he hissed. “You were a prissy little no-body in school and…” he continued, eyeing up and evaluating Josh’s well maintained and impeccably manicured front yard, “...you’re clearly just the same now.”

“Nathan, this is silly…” Josh tried once more, summoning all his resolve. “We’re grown adults.”

“You think because you’ve lost a few pounds I’m going to let you be friends with me?” he laughed, always keeping an eye that Max wasn’t listening. “Go home, Josh. And stay there.”

Reeling, Josh did indeed go inside, cursing himself; imagining what a fool he had made coming out to greet them like that. Why did he have to give Nathan the satisfaction of even trying to be nice to him? Why couldn’t he accept that the guy would never tolerate him? 

The teenager inside of Josh made a grab for control. He opened the cupboards and started whipping up a batch of cookie dough. He ripped open the ice cream and began spooning it into his mouth, knowing that food had been the only true comfort for him back in those dark days of high school. He would have been that way all night, gorging himself, had Kelly from next door not stopped by, knocking on the back door and seeing the mess in the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re making your famous oatmeal cookies for the new neighbors?” she’d assumed, full of smiles. 

Josh nodded, pleased that a plausible excuse had just fallen so easily into his lap. Of course it had been Kelly who had been one of the first to introduce herself to the new couple next door. The woman thrived on the suburban gossip and would actively make it her mission to get around everyone on the street, sharing what she had gleaned from the fresh arrivals.

“They’re such a lovely couple, aren’t they?” Kelly went on. “Nathan works from home, y’know? His family owns a big share in the haulage company over by the docks. That’s probably how he landed a guy like Max! He’s so handsome, isn’t he?” she swooned. “I bet the family are rolling in it!”

Such a thought had crossed Josh’s mind too. Sure, Nathan had always been a good-looking guy, but he wasn’t as slender, nor as athletic as he had once been. Even to the untrained eye, Max seemed more than a little out of his league these days. Then again, Max seemed to be doing pretty well all by himself; his own sizable construction business’ name printed down the side of the two trucks they now had on the driveway. What reason would he have for settling for a slightly chubby guy from a wealthy family when he was clearly already doing well for himself already? 

“I think they’re going to fit right in here,” Kelly nodded. “Nathan’s even coming with us to yoga class on Wednesday!”

Josh’s heart sank. He loved that yoga class, but there was no way he was going if Nathan was there as well. Already the spiteful boy was making a move on all his friends. He considered telling Kelly everything he knew about the real Nathan; their shared history and the bullying. But then everyone would know what a loser he had been back in high school. News like that had a way of spreading like wildfire, twisting and evolving as it passed from person to person. Could Josh handle that? More than ever, he wanted to leave his high school days in the past. Acting as if he didn’t know Nathan seemed like the best thing to do; especially if he didn’t want to be the source of neighborhood gossip.

“They smell great!” Max smiled, looking genuinely delighted at the large container of oatmeal cookies Josh had felt compelled to deliver to him after promising Kelly that he would. He’d hidden behind his curtains for nearly twenty minutes until he was sure that Nathan was inside the house, leaving Max alone in the front yard to unpack the last few boxes for the evening.

“It’s something of a tradition for me to make them when a new neighbor arrives,” Josh smiled meekly, still checking the porch to ensure that Nathan wasn’t about to reappear.

“Yes,” Max smiled back at him. “I’ve already heard about your excellent baking!” he offered charmingly. Clearly Kelly had spent quite some time telling him about all the neighbors.  “Nathan is going to love these. He has quite the sweet tooth, y’know?”

Josh tried to smile back, but just the mention of Nathan’s name was enough to start making him feel as sick as he had back in high school. “Well, make sure you get to taste some as well,” he replied quietly. Back before Josh had gone on his weight loss journey, the recipe he had followed had been his absolute favorite. The cookies were far too nice for the likes of Nathan!

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare!” Max joked. “Nathan is quite the glutton when he gets something sugary!” He looked sideways to check that his boyfriend wasn’t about. “It’s the reason why his ass is a lot wider than you probably remember it in high school!” he chuckled, theatrically masking one side of his mouth so that no one could read his lips.

Josh laughed, taking to Max straight away. Nathan had always been highly strung and awkward, but this guy was as relaxed and as wicked as they came. According to Kelly, they had only been together a few months. Max was the sort of level-headed man who would soon see through Nathan’s false facade. He had the air of a charming bad boy about him; someone who was rarely bettered in a battle of wits.

“Nathan’s always been a very handsome guy,” Josh conceded, not wanting to implicate himself in anything that could be considered unkind in front of Max.

“Oh, yeah, for sure!” Max smiled, nodding in full agreement. “But even handsome guys can overeat…“ he smirked. “Trust me, I doubt any of these cookies will ever see daylight again!”

Josh smiled politely and walked back to his house, his mind whirring away. Nathan would have to be very silly to let his appetite get the better of him and lose a man like Max. Josh had never imagined his old high school bully would get even a little chubby, yet there was no denying that Nathan was starting to let himself go a bit. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. The faster Max got fed up with Nathan’s expanding waistline, the sooner they could all be rid of him - for good!

The following week, Josh’s heart leapt with joy as he saw Max returning home with a full tray of doughnuts. He grinned. offering a silent prayer that Nathan would gorge on the lot and struggle to fit in his pants the next day. Despite the outward appearance of order and harmony within Max and Nathan’s house, it seemed obvious to Josh that the pair’s home must still be upside down after the big move. Why else would Max have come hom with take out every night that week, if not for that? Inside his head, Josh was adding up all the calories and just imagining what impact they may have on nasty old Nathan. Back when Josh was with his ex, he’d been verbally mocked for even looking at foods like that when he still had weight to lose. Yet, there was Max fetching and carrying it all in for him as if he had no idea how much foods like those could influence a guy’s weight when he didn’t work a manual job, like himself.

After skipping yoga for a couple weeks, Josh sensed the other ladies on the street starting to treat him a little differently; their husbands soon following suit. Perhaps it was the obvious extra pounds he was starting to carry on his stomach once more. His tummy had swollen and softened as he consoled himself with his own baking after each intimidating stare from Nathan every time he was unfortunate enough to see him outside. The others on the street were short and impatient, moving away from him as quickly as they could. There were scowls and forgotten invitations to backyard barbecues; clear signs that something was going dramatically wrong. It was happening all over again, just like last time. Nathan had spread his vicious lies and set Josh well within his sights. Josh could just imagine the guy’s smug, satisfied face after each made-up rumour he would tell. Now the neighbors huddled together with Nathan; their backs turned to Josh; an impenetrable wall. Josh watched on, filled with hopelessness, whilst being periodically glanced over at as they continued to discuss him; the outsider.

It was all too much. Josh felt like he had built up a life for himself, only for Nathan to come along and knock it all down. Pretty soon it was only the hapless Max who ever had a friendly smile for him. The ice cream, the cookies, the chocolate, they all called out to him when he came in feeling glum; Josh’s healthy eating regime shattering into a million pieces.

Clothes were tightening, the extra pounds spreading, and a reinflation of Josh’s previously toned body was a seemingly unstoppable process. His butt had always taken the brunt whenever his diet had failed him, but the build up of pure fat felt so much more extreme this time. Josh avoided the mirror, stuck to his loosest fitting outfits and attempted to ride out the winter, assuring himself that all would come right again, once the darkness ended.

It was Spring when Max was cutting the grass in his front yard. With his shirt off, Josh suspected that he wasn’t the only one on the street twitching at the curtains. Even the oldest residents could attest to the fact that there had never been such a handsome, masculine presence on this street. Not that Josh could ever hope to have a man like that now. He’d piled on so much weight over the winter months. He’d felt it all sliding back onto his body, invading his stomach and chest once more. His old t-shirts had come out of the attic, his former pants and jeans. He could feel it under his chin, bloating up his face, jiggling in his love handles and swelling up his butt; 45lbs of pure lard, developed from months of comfort eating due to the quiet isolation he now felt. Dating was out of the question; at least not until he got a grip of himself again. But when would that be?

Max was cleaning the blades of the mower when his miserable boyfriend came trotting out carrying a cool glass of lemonade for him. Wearing loose, unflattering sweatpants, Nathan hovered above his crouching man as if he was utterly oblivious as to how gigantic his butt looked. Winter had been hard on him as well it seemed, Josh smiled. It was completely transformative! Rather than being a little over-padded, Nathan’s butt and love handles had swollen to a width that would make jaws drop. This was a fat boy, without a doubt, having piled on even more than Josh himself. It wasn’t even as if he had become more shapely or especially masculine, but more like a hose had been inserted into his rear and pure blubber pumped in as much as he could take. 

Max’s face lit up upon seeing his boy, rising to his feet, strapping his hands onto that big butt and pulling him in for a kiss. He seemed to revolve Nathan slightly so that his hefty rear could be seen even by those living across the street; the guy’s strong hands genuinely appearing to revel in the size of those lardy glutes.

Nathan laughed and patted the horny boy away, trotting back into the house and inadvertently giving Josh a better look at the rest of his body: that double chin, the puffy arms, the rounded tummy, the larger mounded chest. Just what had the boy been eating whilst he worked from home all these months? He had completely ballooned!

Josh’s attention turned back onto Max: a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watched Nathan disappear from view. It had been him, Josh realised, as the handsome boy chuckled to himself and crouched back down to clean the lawnmower blades. Barely a night had gone by when Josh hadn’t caught sight of him carrying something tasty in for his lover after a long day at work. He’d enabled it all. Hell, he might as well have had his name tattooed on that oversized rump of Nathan’s. Yet… he was still attracted to the awful boy. What sort of a guy put up with a weight gain like that? Certainly not any of the ones Josh had ever dated; constantly criticising his appearance and making him feel unworthy of their love, he thought bitterly to himself. Yet, there was the completely undeserving Nathan, likely far exceeding 240lbs, and still actively garnering the attention of a man like Max. 

There was no such thing as karma. Life wasn’t fair. People never really got what they deserved. Some guys were just born lucky.

It had been a slip at work that had done it. Josh was laid up on his couch resting his broken ankle and feeling more than a little sorry for himself that May. Whilst he enjoyed the freedom of being single, living alone was not always easy when things weren’t going great. Two weeks into the healing process and already the house looked a mess. He was existing off microwave meals, working from home and moving as little as possible, just as the doctor had ordered. He thought of all the times he had been there to help others on the street when bad luck had befallen them; yet no one had called round to check on him. With his parents gone and brother living so far away, Josh had never felt so isolated in his life. That was, until a large shadow crossed his window as the figure of Max could be seen in his front yard, mowing the grass for him. 

Josh hobbled to the front door and caught his attention, thanking Max for coming to help even when he had not asked. His yard had never looked like such a mess; the beautiful flowers he looked forward to each summer going unnoticed, hidden behind an unruly forest of weeds and grass.  

“Nathan’s away at a friend’s this weekend,” Max explained. “I’ve not got much to do anyway,” he shrugged.

Josh nodded, wondering whether even Max would dare to help him had Nathan been at home. Although he often caught the man in the front yard and exchanged a few simple, friendly words, he had always been keen to keep his guard up. He knew that, as a couple, Nathan would have spoken to him about why he didn’t like Josh. Perhaps they laughed about him behind his back. He could easily imagine that.

“Is there anything else I can do for you whilst I’m here?” Max asked kindly,letting himself in later that afternoon and stepping into Josh’s living area as he tried to get himself upright to greet the strapping man properly.

“No, you’ve already done so much! You’ve been a lifesaver!” Josh smiled. He looked down at his cast, wishing it away so that his life could get back to normal and not rely on others like he was having to right now. “What can I do to thank you?”

Max scratched his head in thought. “Maybe, when you’re better, you could make another batch of those cookies for Nathan?” he considered. “He guzzled the last batch down in no time at all,” he laughed, not hiding an element of mockery within.

Josh paused for a moment, unsure whether there was some sort of punchline coming from Max’s strange humor about his boyfriend’s appetite. “Sure,” he nodded at last. “I can do that.”

“Thanks,” Max smiled, dropping his head slightly and starting to shuffle out. But then he paused, turning back. “This must be pretty nice for you, huh?” he asked. “Nathan was such a bastard to you for being fat in high school, and now he’s the one carrying around all that extra weight? I imagine you feel pretty smug each time you see him?”

Josh stared at him. What sort of a question was that? He started to mumble a reply, realising that he didn’t even know what he was supposed to say. “Well, I’m hardly one to judge,” he finally replied softly. He hadn’t expected anyone to see him that day and his fat stomach wasn’t hidden in the slightest by the old, tight band t-shirt he’d slipped on earlier.

“Go on, admit it!” Max smirked. “You hate his guts!”

Again, Josh struggled to find words. “I wouldn’t say I hated him,” he lied.

“Why not?” Max asked. “He hates you. Loathes you, in fact! You should hear some of the things he’s been going around telling the neighbors.”

Josh frowned. “What’s he been saying?" he asked, immediately outraged. He took a breath, realising that he’d actually rather not know. He couldn’t say he’d ever really understood Max’s boyish humor, but his motives for saying these things eluded Josh. It was almost as if he enjoyed all the drama. “Okay…” he sighed, defeated.

“So, how do you feel about him?” Max pressed, not letting this go.

Not knowing what else to do, Josh shrugged and relented. “Fine. I don’t like him. Okay?“

Grinning with triumph, Max nodded with delight. “Good,” he smirked. “Make sure you channel that when you’re making him those cookies then: a little extra butter here, more sugar in there. Think of all the mean fat jokes he ever made about you,” he stated pointedly. “Make the greedy little piggy pay…”

Afterwards, Josh felt like he had slipped into a strange, alternative reality. Guys didn’t talk like that about their boyfriends; so why had Max spoken about Nathan like he was trying to stir up an old vendetta? Had they argued before he’d gone away that weekend? Was all not as it seemed next door? The whole thing could have been the start of a very scandalous neighborhood discussion had Josh been the type to share with the gossips. Not that anyone was really talking to him right now. As it was, Josh simply pondered it alone, slowly making up a batch of the cookies as Max had asked.

That Sunday, Josh yelled to Max as he headed out to pick Nathan up from the airport. He hobbled back into the kitchen, fetching the container of cookies so that he could hand them to him. The strapping man was waiting in his hallway expectantly, dressed in a smart shirt as if he was going to take Nathan straight out for dinner afterwards. His aftershave smelt enticing and the man’s eyes lit up when he saw the container so filled with cookies. He seemed genuinely thrilled to hold it in his hands.

“I hope there’s plenty of butter in these?” he asked seriously, studying the rise as if he knew what to look for.

Josh nodded, suddenly feeling under scrutiny. “You can look at the recipe,” he replied, unsure why he was so keen to please, even in this bizarre situation.

“That’s alright,” Max chuckled. “I trust you,” he whispered with a wink. “We’ve got his sister’s wedding coming up this month and I want him looking fat as fuck beforehand! He bought a suit for it months ago but… I have a funny feeling it won’t be fitting so well,” he smirked wickedly.

Max turned to leave.

“Do you…” Josh tried to ask, feeling uncomfortable with the way things were going down. “It’s just… I find it so strange. Do you not like Nathan, or something?”

Max looked like he wanted to laugh as he turned around to hold eye contact with Josh once more. “Of course I don’t!” he blasted. “Who the hell could actually like Nathan? Only absolute morons! You and I both know better than most… Nathan is not a good person.”

Whatever answer Josh had been anticipating, that had not been it. 

“Then… Why are you with him?” he asked slowly, as if this was all too complicated for his brain; like he had missed some crucial detail that would tie it all together.

Max checked his watch and shrugged, no longer caring if he was going to be a little late to pick Nathan up. “I’m playing the long game,” he sighed. “Nathan and his family have been throwing their weight around for far too long in this town.” He looked at Josh as if he knew him far better than even he could realise. “Nathan’s father fired my dad when he questioned him about his business affairs; framed him for some corrupt dealings; gave my mom a nervous breakdown. We lost everything. Dad went to prison. I grew up in a trailer park with my grandparents.”

“That’s awful!” Josh tried to sympathise.

“It is what it is,” Max shrugged. “I can’t change the past.” He leaned against the wall, sighing with sadness. “I’m not the type to let bullies get away with things. But that attitude got me in so many fights back in high school, let me tell you!” he chuckled, almost with nostalgia.

Josh admired his fine, muscular body once more. Of course Max could handle himself. He was so built and tall, he wouldn’t need to take shit from anyone. 

“I’ve come across many awful people in my time. Nathan is by far the worst of them all. He dated one of my best friends for almost a year. He had him working to the bone to please him, all the while fucking some guy who lived in their apartment building. He ran up a huge debt in my friend’s name, fleeced a ton of cash off him and walked away with the keys to their apartment. My buddy wrapped his car around a tree and only just escaped with his life. I saw it happening all over again, the whole cycle of cruelty that family is so good at. Only this time, I wasn’t too small to do anything about it.”

Josh nodded sympathetically. None of what he had heard surprised him, but it felt good to listen to someone else highlighting what a piece of work the woman actually was. “But, how?” he asked, still not understanding Max’s plan. “You can’t just be trying to fatten him up so that no one else will have him?” In Josh’s head, it didn’t compute. He couldn’t make the leap from the trauma of the past into the incredibly surreal present day situation going on next door.

“I sure can!” Max chuckled. “He’s a greedy boy. I spotted it in him straight away. It was always bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just speeding the process along…” He could see how sceptical Josh looked. “You know the real Nathan better than most people. He’s not charismatic, especially intelligent, or in any way kind. He’s just a pretty boy from a wealthy family. And he’s played those two cards his entire life, no matter the damage he leaves in his wake. I could tell you so much more about the things he’s done.”

“But that doesn’t mean you should…” Josh tried, hardly bringing himself to say it again “...fatten him up.” He knew, in some bizarre way, that he was possibly the only person Max had confided all of this in.

“Nathan was the one who put the drugs in your brother’s locker in high school, y’know,” Max jumped in. “He did it to spite you because you dared to talk back to him one day. He actually laughed about it when he was telling me how your brother got kicked out of school and your folks shipped him off to some military academy.”

Josh recoiled, knowing the exact and only moment he had dared talk back to Nathan in high school, now realising the devastating consequences it had had. He’d never suspected Nathan capable of planting the drugs back then. Not ever. But it was the reason Josh’s brother had gone into the army afterwards; why he had ended up stepping on that landmine.

“Nathan saw him in his wheelchair when he came here during the holidays,” Max went on. “He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even care.”

“Well, I guess he couldn’t possibly have known…” Josh tried to reason.

“Josh! When are you going to stop letting people push you around?” Max blasted, losing patience with him. “When are you actually going to stand up for yourself? Nathan has been ruining your life for years now and you’ve done absolutely nothing to try and stop him!”

Josh lowered his head. He’d always been such a timid creature, so desperate to please. But Max was right: Nathan was bad to the bone. He couldn’t find the strength to do anything about that in high school, but maybe now he could. “It’s not just the weight gain you’re using to get back at him, is it?” he asked, sensing now how sharp and clever the man before him was; ten steps ahead of everyone else, playing a game none of them even suspected.

Max nodded. “The weight gain is just…karma,” he smirked. “You don’t need to know the rest,” he stated seriously. “Keep your friends close and your enemies…” he rambled ominously. “I want to bring the whole lot of them down. That entire, rotten, corrupt family.”

“I believe you,” Josh smiled, viewing Max as the guardian angel he had always longed for. “I think, If anyone can do this, you can.”

The pair smiled at each other, understanding one another at last.

“I’ll make you some more cookies and treats,” Josh finally sighed. “I’m not saying I necessarily agree with that particular method of how you’re trying to get him back, but…I guess I’m willing to help in any small way I can,” he offered, hardly believing that the words were coming out of his mouth.

Max’s eyebrows rose up high and he chuckled in surprise. “Josh, Josh, Josh…” he tutted mockingly. “Are you serious? Or are you just saying this because you’re upset about everything I just told you?”

Josh swallowed. Max was a knight in shining armour, ready to save him from the most vile creature on Earth. Finally, there was someone willing to take Nathan on. If only he had had an ally like him back in high school. “I’m going to help you,” he stated calmly. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Once his foot was out of the cast two weeks later, Josh settled to his side of the bargain with enthusiasm. There were so many recipes he hadn’t tried in years given that he’d been losing weight. Now he was getting to have a go at them all, quietly helping his cunning neighbor get his own back on the man he was pretending to be in love with. Max would accept the treats and repackage them so that Nathan would have no idea they were especially baked for him from just next door.

“How was the wedding?” Josh asked Max as he came over to collect the cream cakes Josh had promised him before they left the previous weekend.

Max smirked wickedly, standing just inside the doorway. He had the musk of a strong, capable man after a hard day’s work, a scent which never failed to make every part of Josh tingle. “Awesome!” he nodded in delight. “Just as I predicted, Nathan couldn’t squeeze into his suit properly. He got himself so drunk on champagne that he fell over onto his huge ass for everyone to see, tearing the pants all the way through to the crotch!”

“Oh, I wish I could have seen that!” Josh chuckled, allowing more and more of his wicked side to emerge the longer he had been supporting Max.

“Here,” Max offered, pulling out his cell phone and showing Josh a picture of the tear. He leaned in closer; his strong arm holding the phone up in front of Josh’s face. It was the sort of closeness Josh looked forward to most of all. “His father was furious with him!” Max added, delighted with himself.

“I’m pleased to hear it,” Josh smiled.

“So these are the cream cakes you promised, huh?” Max asked, taking the box from Josh. “Beautiful presentation, as always!” he winked.

Josh blushed a little. “Well, I know it’s just the calories you care about. But I can’t help myself. I enjoy making them look nice.”

“No, no… it all helps!” Max countered. “The fat pig can’t stop himself when they look as enticing as these! It makes my job a lot easier. Thank you.”

Chuckling with a little nervousness, Josh could hardly look Max in the eye. There was something about his enjoyment of all of this that really made him swoon for him. If he was being completely honest with himself, his efforts in the kitchen weren’t entirely about getting revenge on Nathan. These moments alone with Max were also a significant highlight. Not only was the man dripping with sex appeal, but when he spoke about how fat and heavy Nathan was getting, the whole thing seemed almost kinky and excitingly naughty.

“Well, to be fair, neither can I,” Josh admitted, trying not to take it all too seriously. “There were a couple more cream cakes in the box before I got a little peckish earlier.” He rubbed his fat stomach, knowing that the extra few pounds he’d added since baking so much for Max was its own cosmic justice for getting mixed up in this whole wicked plan to fatten up his old high school bully. 

Max smiled at him in that cheeky, naughty way that made Josh’s knees want to buckle.

“My ass will soon be as big as Nathan’s!” Josh joked.

“Absolutely!” Max grinned, looking his body up and down like he was checking him out. “You won’t hear any complaints from me about that!”

Josh’s laugh caught in his throat. Was Max being serious with him? It was the most bizarre feeling he had had around him yet. On the one hand, the handsome guy was telling Josh he’d put on a few pounds. Yet, on the other… it definitely felt as if he was flirting at the same time. “I guess I’ll just have to watch what I eat from now on then…” Josh answered, if only to fill the silent void that would likely have followed had he not.

“Nah…” Max grinned. “Not every man wants to date a stick insect,” he winked. “I wouldn’t be doing any of this to Nathan if I didn’t quietly enjoy it.” He lifted a cream cake out of the container and placed it on the side. “For later,” he smiled at him. “For a man who actually deserves it…”

When Josh stood on the scales the next week, he was shocked to see that he was the heaviest he had been in over two years. He rubbed his fat tummy, able to grab full rolls of fat once again now he was 250lbs. His body was familiar and yet very different at the same time. Even at his heaviest, some 30lbs north of this, he had never carried the fat on his glutes like this before. He shook them, hardly comprehending the blubber that rocked and wobbled. But there was an even greater difference to the last time Josh was this size, one that couldn’t be reflected back at him in the mirror: a contentedness that seemed almost inexplicable. So what if he was fat again? Nathan was still considerably fatter. So what if he enjoyed his food? He’d always been a fat boy, no matter how ‘thin’ he had appeared until recently. He’d been a people pleaser for far too long. Now was the time to accept himself for who he truly was. A new Josh had been born.

“I thought I could smell you frying up doughnuts!” Max laughed, letting himself in through the back door, as he was now accustomed to doing. In this neighborhood, tongues would soon start wagging should he be seen to be coming over too often.

“I found a recipe online,” Josh smiled, still with his back to him as he fried. “I’ll put some to the side for you shortly.”

Max had found the recipe printout on the side and he whistled in delight. “Wow… you are quite the bad boy!” he teased. “This is one of the most fattening things I’ve seen you make yet!”

Josh turned, resetting the timer before the latest batch could come out. “I also made some cupcakes earlier,” he pointed to the cooling rack by the refrigerator. “I’ll put some icing on them and you can take some back with you. How long have you got?”

“Twenty minutes or so,” Max shrugged. “Nathan doesn’t know I’m back from the gym yet. He’s in the bathtub.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t get wedged in…” Josh teased, knowing that Max’s wicked sense of humour was rubbing off on him. “What a shame that would be!” he joked.

The man smiled brightly at him; that beautiful face, the wicked twinkle in his eyes. “You know, you’ve really come out of your shell these last few weeks,” Max beamed, admiring every part of him.

Josh ripped one of the fresh, sugar-coated doughnuts in half and put it in his mouth. “I’m just done with giving a crap about what other people think of me. I never realised how good it would feel just to… let it all go.”

Max seemed completely mesmerised by him as Josh ate the second half of the doughnut. He turned back around to pull the last batch out and turned the frier off. It was then that Josh heard him getting up from the stool he was perched on at the breakfast bar and come ever closer. Josh had known for a few days what would happen next; the inevitability of it all; the profound sexual tension. It began with Max’s large hands sliding onto his thicker hips. Max stooped down lower, resting his head on Josh’s shoulder and turned his face in towards his; the hunk’s sweet breath against Josh’s ear. “I think that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said,” he whispered.

Josh chuckled to himself. It was actually happening! He swivelled, his mouth meeting Max’s as they kissed sweetly and passionately for the first time. They pulled away, looking deeply into the other’s eyes before laughing and going back in for more. Max’s hands began sliding under Josh’s clothes, lifting his t-shirt off, lowering his sweatpants and feeling the fleshy areas of his body that no man had ever appreciated on him before. The sensation made Josh moan, only spurring Max on further as he lustfully consumed him. In no time at all, the clothes covering the lower halves of both their bodies were removed, Max pressing his oversized hardness into an oiled up Josh. He’d lifted the chubby boy up and placed him down upon the table, spreading his thick legs as he held the glutton’s feet aloft. The thrusting was firm, pleasurable and manic. Max pulled out, lifted his shirt off and used his tongue to warm Josh up until he felt ready to scream with enjoyment, before inserting himself back in and going at it once more. Josh felt at his large, doughy nipples as they rocked and jiggled from the motion, laying across the table top. Max too reached out for them, moaning with pure pleasure. The way he touched them was complete eroticism, bringing intense stimulation wherever his large hands went; especially when they started working Josh’s own hardness. 

Josh could tell that Max was having to hold himself back. His enjoyment of his wobbling fat body was absolute. Josh could hardly believe that such a handsome, muscular man was actually making love to him, working so hard to ensure that they could both climax together. The inevitable conclusion, only moments later, was more satisfying than any sexual experience of Josh’s whole life.

Max seemed overcome afterwards, panting furiously. He lifted Josh clean up from the table and kissed him once more. “I’m falling in love with you. You do realise that, right?” he whispered sweetly, letting Josh know that, for him, what they had just done wasn’t only for fun.

Josh beamed, gazing up at the man he admired most in the world. He didn;t need to say anything back. At that moment, both of them just knew.

Having a relationship with another guy’s man was not something Josh had ever thought himself capable of. Then again, none of the men he had clumsily drifted along with since high school had ever been like Max. He was so hardworking and reliable; so handsome and kind. He brought out a side of him that Josh never knew existed, and boosted his confidence like no one had ever even tried to. The man was everything Josh could ever have wished for. But then, he was also still in a sham relationship with the guy Josh despised most in the world.

“No-one likes you here. You know that, right?” hissed an aggressive voice that made Josh jump as he deadheaded the last of the late summer blooms.

“Nathan,” Josh sighed, surprised that he hadn’t even noticed the fat lump coming towards him. Max was clearly working late, otherwise the blubbery bully would never have approached him like this in the evening. “How’re you?”

“You heard me, right?” Nathan battled on, ignoring Josh’s attempt at niceties. “No one likes you here.”

Josh continued with what he was doing. It was the first time he’d spoken to Nathan without his heart beating wildly in his chest. “I am very aware that nobody likes me around here, yes,” he replied calmly, snipping away at the faded flowers.

“You should just sell up and leave,” Nathan continued, getting closer. With his massive weight gain, he had the appearance of being even more intimidating than ever before. 

Josh simply ignored him, continuing with his gardening. With so many windows facing towards his garden, there was no way Nathan would ever risk getting physical with him, as he used to when they were teenagers. However, Nathan still had the mindset of a reckless bully and needed to be treated with the utmost caution. Perhaps it was his weight that was making him feel so discontented this evening and in need of hitting out on Josh. Indeed, it was somewhat amusing to Josh that Nathan hadn’t so far tried to use Josh’s own weight gain to aggravate him. There could be only one reason for that: Nathan was well aware that he had packed on even more lard himself.

“If people don’t like me much around here, it’s because they believe a pack of lies, maliciously spread in order to ruin my reputation,” Josh simply offered in reply. “And if people actually like you, it’s because they believe all the lies you tell them in order to make yourself look better. Either way, I’d much rather be who I am, rather than you.”

“How’s your brother doing?” Nathan snapped back.

Josh took a breath. Nathan was a master at warfare. When he realised that one thing was failing to get a rise out of Josh, he could always flip to the next. It was flawlessly jarring and caught him off-guard each and every time. Josh could sense Nathan’s power growing.

“That’s one sweet wheelchair he uses these days,” the bully taunted.

In an instant, Josh felt all his patience evaporate. The end had officially arrived. There the hose pipe lay next to him. He reached for it swiftly, knowing the gun was set to the most powerful mode after he’d been clearing out the drains. Then a wicked grin filled his face as he squeezed the trigger tightly. A fast flowing jet of ice-cold water flew out, pressing forcefully into Nathan’s large, fat tummy and soaking him in an instant. The man yelled, clearly caught out by Josh’s surprising backbone. He began retreating, but Josh was in no mood to let him off, holding firmly to that hose pipe gun and aiming relentlessly towards the bully. The fat boy began moving faster, charging across his lawn and towards the safety of his own home. Josh simply followed him with the water, even as the obese man slipped and landed heavily on the grass, face-first. Even then, Josh still aimed that hose at the wide, fat rump of the boy who had tormented him for so long. Nathan quickly picked his heavy body back up and ran onto his porch, slamming his front door behind him.

Invigorated, Josh dropped the hosepipe and laughed. Nathan’s yelling had alerted several figures to appear in the windows along the street. Everyone had seen the incident, but what did it matter? Josh drew in a gigantic refreshing breath of air and bowed deeply to all of them. With a reputation as bad as his around here, he had nothing to lose. Perhaps that had been Nathan’s biggest mistake from the start.

“We could forget all about the plan?” Max suggested as a naked, thoroughly satisfied 250lb Josh rested his head against his powerful chest in bed a few weeks later. “We could just sell up and leave here together. Nathan and his family wouldn’t be our problem anymore.”

Josh sighed. Max’s offer was everything he longed for and more. Calling Max his own was a dream he could hardly dare to imagine. Falling in love had felt like the most natural thing in the world and both of them were open about having never experienced anything like it before. With the pair having lost their parents at such a young age, they knew the value of their bond and the importance of cherishing the shared love that they had. But it wasn’t time to give into it just yet. There was too much hurt and trauma to make amends for. 

“Are you getting closer?” Josh asked him. “Whatever case or evidence you’re trying to gather against Nathan’s family?”

Max was quiet. “I think so,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers between Josh’s and admiring his chubby little hands. “The fatter Nathan gets, the more his family seems desperate for me not to leave him. It’s as if they admire me for sticking around. They trust me.”

“Good,” Josh replied. “That’s exactly what we need.”

“So, we’re seeing this one out, all the way to the end?” Max asked him, still quietly hopeful that they could run away together instead.

Josh raised himself up and grabbed the can of spray cream he had kinkily brought into the bedroom with them so that he could lick it off Max’s perfect body. “Of course we are,” he smiled, tilting his head back and pumping the cream down his throat, just like the fat boy inside him had always longed to do. By the time he had finished, he looked down and saw Max’s hardness had been resurrected and amplified tenfold. It was always that greedy, gluttonous, independent side of Josh that the man seemed to admire most. “Besides...” he grinned, starting to stimulate Max’s erection as he climbed on top and grabbed the man’s hands until they rested upon his fleshy love handles, “...I haven’t made that bastard fat enough yet!”

A thoroughly reinvigorated Max growled with lust, flipping the fat boy over and reversing their positions. He reached for the spray cream, grinning from ear to ear as he made love to him for the third time that night, filling Josh’s mouth with fluffy cream, one squirt at a time.

Nathan had started to upset a couple of folks on the street over the next few weeks; his true colours coming through at long last. Josh had thought things were going wrong for Nathan the moment he had tried to get Josh charged for assault and battery after the water hose incident. Despite all the many witnesses in the windows, not one of the neighbors had corroborated Nathan’s claims about the incident. Even Mr Gomez’s security cameras had bizarrely deleted the footage for that entire day. At the time, Josh had simply assumed that Max had called in a couple of favors as he desperately scrambled to discreetly assert some damage control, purely for Josh’s sake. Josh had denied everything to the police, just as Max had advised him to (once he had stopped laughing). However, it seemed once one of Nathan’s lies had been unpicked, more followed as the gossiping neighbors began to compare notes. A re-evaluation had been going on in the street and it seemed as if Josh had suddenly become worthy enough to wave to once more. It was all too little too late in Josh’s opinion, returning only a frosty raised hand in response.

Kelly had tried to muscle her way back into his life, without a word of explanation as to why she had barely spoken a word to Josh in months. She knew she was on thin ice, not daring to comment on how much weight Josh had been piling on in the time that had passed. Instead, she simply launched back into all the tasty bits of gossip Josh had missed out on whilst ostracised; discussing none more so than Nathan.

“I think they’re going to split, him and Max,” Kelly rambled as Josh dug in his winter flowering mix, barely listening to her. “He’s well over three and twenty hundred pounds! They don’t even sleep together anymore!” she whispered. “He lost his job for lying to them. He was trying to poach clients for his family’s business! Derek heard all about it. He said you’ve never heard language like it than when they caught him in the act!”

Josh smirked, having heard all about it from Max over two weeks ago. Kelly was so behind the times!

“He’ll never get another desk job again,” Kelly determined. “He’s just living off poor Max. Although, who the hell knows what he sees in him? Personally, I never liked the man!”

Josh chuckled to himself at the lie, declining the invite to join them in the yoga class that week. That ship had sailed. Even after the neighbors had backed him up with the police, it was likely more about teaching Nathan a lesson than it was about Josh himself. He had seen who his real friends were, and Kelly was not amongst them. Instead, he took himself back inside, excited to get started on a new recipe he had found that morning.

“Something smells nice!” Max whispered later, his hands wrapping around Josh’s thick waist as he stood at the stove. “Your famous chocolate fudge sauce?”

“With extra butter…” Josh teased him back.

“Mmm…” Max mumbled; his hardness pressing into Josh’s large, round rear. “You’re such a bad boy!”

“You know it!” Josh grinned, letting Max’s horny hands travel all over his vast blubbery exterior and into his underwear, warming him up like only Max could. He’d never been as fat as this in his whole life, but life as an average height, 320lb man was suiting him just fine. In Max’s arms he felt sexy and confident; a precious being to be loved and admired. He leaned his  head back into Max’s chest as the man’s hands stimulated his hardness perfectly, making him moan softly as he stirred the sauce.

“And the best part is,” Max whispered, “this fudge mix is all for you. Nathan has gone back to his parents’ place for a few days. That means, he’s going to be there when they’re all arrested tonight. Every last one of them!”

“How?” Josh asked, his face beaming with surprise and shock as he turned to face his lover.

“I finally managed to copy daddy’s hard drive,” Max smirked, raising his big arms over Josh’s shoulders and kissing him sweetly. “There’s stuff on there that implicates them all. Serious stuff!”

“Will they know it was you who passed it onto the police?” Josh asked next, a little concerned.

“Not a chance!” Max grinned triumphantly; his hands now mindlessly rubbing Josh’s giant glutes. “Although, maybe you think I should lay low in your house for a few days, just to be safe, huh?” he joked, clearly aroused by their sudden good fortune. He pulled off his t-shirt and flexed his pecs in the way Josh most enjoyed.

“I like that idea!” Josh smiled back excitedly.

“Oh, yeah?” Max smirked, handling his large glutes and bouncing them in the way that made them wobble the most. “Do you think you’re ready to have a big, strong man around the house all the time? Pampering you as much as he can?” he whispered, kissing his neck passionately.

The fudge sauce was catching on the bottom and burning. Already it was ruined. But what did it matter? Max would never deny him anything he wanted. Josh would whip up some more and consume it in front of him, even as his clothes got ever smaller. Finally, he could be the greedy boy he always was inside, and with a man who had a great track record of keeping his boys well fed. 

Hatred had brought them to each other, but it was love that would keep them together, no matter what came next.

“Have you met the new neighbors?” asked Sandra, watching as Max’s truck pulled into his new driveway.

“I popped over yesterday,” nodded Helen, quietly admiring the strapping Max as he got out of his truck, waving to them politely before reaching back in and grabbing a couple of boxes of pizzas from his passenger seat. “He’s certainly very handsome! And incredibly charming!” she admitted, watching Max’s strong glutes as the muscular man strutted into his new home, ready to surprise his husband.

“The other one seemed very nice too,” Sandra commented next, clearly holding back on something.

“Yes, very sweet,” agreed Helen. “If you like that sort of thing. He manages their construction business, you know. Josh does all the admin from home. Max does all the physical side of things.”

“Perhaps that’s why that one is so…” Sandra hinted.

“Yes, perhaps,” Helen nodded. “Although you do get some men who like that sort of thing,” she added, as if knowingly.

“I don’t doubt it,” Sandra chuckled. “Why else would a strapping man like that marry an enormous boy like that? I’d have a fit if one of my children tried to bring home a fat blob like him!”

“Quite right,” Helen agreed. “He must be at least four hundred pounds!”

“Oh, at least!” Sandra echoed. “Disgusting!” 

“I saw them in their front yard the other night whilst the handsome one was digging up the flower beds. He couldn’t keep his hands off the fat one! I had to close the curtains in the end. No one wants to see that!”

The pair sighed with a muted longing. They’d already made their minds up about Josh. He wasn’t going to be one of them, and they’d certainly let him know that in time. However, they could all quietly envy him for the rest of their days, able to eat whatever he wanted and keep the attention of a man who would never stray. The man who didn’t need their approval, nor the expected, tedious, married, middle class lifestyle the others here had secretly tired of many years earlier.

Bullies could be found everywhere. They came in all shapes and sizes, encrusted within every walk of life and every last neighborhood there had ever been. But inside that house of warmth, love and acceptance, Josh and Max would never fail to outlast them all.

[unriding]

MOZE X F!READER ﾉ fluff. innocent first meetings. moze’s past is mentioned. reader is also described as wearing something pink with one mention of ruffles! because of this, i will say this is just a tad bit selfship coded. my apologies ^^;

SUMMARY𓈒 in which an unfamiliar face catches moze’s attention soon after the trio pays a visit to the xianzhou luofu.

Moze doesn’t recall ever seeing you on the Luofu.

His work calls for him to remain hidden within the shadows— and by now, it was practically a given that he could recognize nearly every face on the ship within a few days. A one sided familiarity that he had grown used to, which is all the more reason why it takes him by surprise when he catches you— a stranger, casually chatting with Jiaoqiu.

He’s certain he would have remembered someone like you.

Something compels him to give you a proper name to recognize you with in the likely case that he crosses paths with you again, so he eventually settles on “the girl in pink that likes to talk with Jiaoqiu.”

After that day, he starts to see you more often. He’s slowly come to the realization that you can always be found talking to anyone, not just Jiaoqiu. You have a habit of speaking with your hands, animatedly waving them back and forth, and he also notes that your voice sounds gentle.

In the span of just an hour, you’ve already spoken to: a child that had gotten lost, Guanaifen (he notes that you seem to really enjoy talking to her along with Sushang), and even Diting.

But not him. Never him.

In fact, in the few days he’s had to grow fond of a complete stranger, he doesn’t recall you ever glancing in his direction even once. Not that you were supposed to- because as the infamous shadow guard of the Yaoqing, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t be able to notice him so easily.

“I’m sure it would help your restlessness quite a bit if you spoke to her,” Jiaoqiu smiles.

He shakes his head in response. “Striking a conversion with strangers doesn’t fall under my line of work.”

“Perhaps it would help you focus on your work, seeing as how you keep staring at her.”

The only reaction he gives him is a subtle furrow of his brows and a huff to pair with it (likely confused as to how he would even know of his occasional glances your way in the first place), but the foxian knows better than to assume he wouldn’t pounce on the given opportunity.

Years of working alongside him meant that he’s grown to understand the way Moze expresses himself, even if he’s never quite acted like this before.

Much to Moze’s misery, nearly a full week goes by until he sees you again. It’s already rather late in the evening when the mentioned ‘girl in pink that enjoys talking with Jiaoqiu everyone’ is now directly in front of him, weight shifted onto her knees. The pink frills he’s already committed to memory are softly bunched up in your hand as you lean further down to greet Diting again.

Being a shadow was what he knew best, and not being in the limelight is another thing he’s grown entirely accustomed to — his ‘work’ being composed of lurking in the darkness, marking enemies as prey, and most importantly- cleaning up the messes. The usual.

But when your eyes finally lock with his, and he’s hit with a look of such fondness for the first time in his life — he thinks being seen is quite nice. A sudden flash of a seemingly innocent curiosity takes possession of him the next second. To be so violently struck with the desire to know your name- hear it roll off your tongue, and learn everything else in relation to you.. though not because you’re his prey, but because of an unfamiliar reason he can’t quite pinpoint yet — bothers him a bit.

He’s broken out of his trance when the sweet look in your eyes switches to something resembling worry.

“Um— is it bad if I pet the puppy?”

There’s a brief moment of silence.

“No.”

“Oh.” The smile on your face returns. “Then were you wanting to pet the puppy too?”

He pauses before swallowing an oddly suffocating gulp (he makes a mental note that he should ask the doctor about this unfamiliar symptom later, lest something like this ends up hindering his strength in the future) and decides to take Jiaoqiu’s advice, nodding to your question and closing the distance to squat down with a low huff.

“I thought I was in trouble,” you laugh a bit, and it does nothing but solidify the creeping desire in his heart to stay close to you like this. Your laugh is airy, soft — only a bit different from how you typically sound with Jiaoqiu or the others, and he thinks hearing it again would in fact help him with his work. “I was wondering why the Great General’s guard would be looking my way.”

He adjusts his hood to better look at you, and the question slips before he even realizes. “You.. know of me?”

“Mhm, Mr. Moze. Or— Mr. Crow Feathered Weirdo,” you smile at him, “you have a pretty huge fan club. Did you know?”

He shakes his head.

One thing Moze has come to realize is that memories shape people into the way they are today, and that those very memories grow stronger with repeated experiences. In his case, what others would consider a bitter memory was nothing out of the ordinary to him. A guard whose life was made up of experiments, full of nothing but enduring and more enduring- all towards the hope of no longer being alone nor acknowledged as the orphan that had been abandoned in the wilderness by his village.. such a life holds little to no value. The vivid memory of the words he spoke falling on deaf ears is proof of exactly that.

Though this new memory doesn’t align with the rest.

You continue to pet Diting as you tell him about his fan club (apparently, they had recently snapped a photo of his phone case and considered this a great feat), gently scratching behind the dog’s ear and time starts to fly much faster than he would like; the two of you now walking side by side through the Luofu. He thinks his work could technically extend to walking a resident home and ensuring her safety, so he chalks it up to nothing beyond that.

But it only gets stranger after that.

He thinks about you afterwards in the comfort of his own bed — though he’s sure he would bump into you soon enough anyway, so he certainly should not be wasting his time reminiscing about such a short encounter with you. How your voice sounded in his head, in particular, doesn’t leave his mind. Only a few tosses and turns later, along with a frustrated grunt, he sits upright, the clock beside him now reading 1:37 AM.

A time he definitely shouldn’t be seeing nor perceiving, since he would normally be sound asleep by now. Perhaps, for the very first time since meeting him, Moze thinks Jiaoqiu’s advice may have actually worsened his symptoms.

He also hadn’t gotten your name yet.

[t-a-a-1]

YOU ACTUALLY COOKED WITH YOYR DANDILION FIC🔥🔥 MY OWN HEART WAS SQUEEZING I ACTUALLY FELT SO BAD FOR OPTIMUS BUT IM SO HAPPY SHE WAS ABLE TO GROW PAST THE REJECTION 🫠🫠 I FACT HE WOULD PROBABLY LIVE WITH THIS LONGER THAN SHE'LL BE ALIVE

Thank you so much reading! And yesss I am all for angst but I still think reader has feelings for Optimus on this fic. I think at some point Optimus would just get really angry at you because you make him feel envious and possessive (feelings he is very unknown to and doesn’t understand) and those feelings build up until he aggressively confesses his love for you. Like …

...

“I don’t understand why you are so angry?” You say, running towards the big grumpy robot who had just kicked your boyfriend out of the base. “If Alex did something that bothered you then you have to tell me so I can-“

“He does not respect your autonomy.”

Optimus keeps walking, desperately needing to go back to his private quarters.

“What? But he does!”

You are getting tired. Having to run and scream at the same time for him to hear you feels pathetic. But you rather have this conversation now than later.

“He holds your hand without permission. He does not call you by your proper name and calls you his own.”

Optimus stops walking, finally allowing you to relax.

“You are no ones property. I cannot stand it when he calls you mine."

There’s that stupid thought again. Your mind making you believe that Optimus might be jealous is ridiculous. You won’t fall for that again. He just doesn’t understand human affection. That has to be it.

“No, you don’t understand. Prime, those things-“

“Will you just end my torment?”

He puts a hand on the wall and another on his chassis. He leans onto the wall as if the pain was too much to bear.

“I cannot do this anymore," His voice box becomes a little static as he finally turns to look at you. “My Spark is in too much agony and I beg you to please end my misery.”

“What are you saying?”

"Do not play the fool with me," he raises his voice. You are not afraid but startle because the desperation on his voice was something you never heard before. "You must know. You must know that everything. All of it ..."

Optimus knows that he is not making any sense. That he is rambling because his feelings have reached their limits and now they are overflowing. With such pure devotion, adoration and fascination for you.

"Is my affection not enough for you to understand how crucial you are to my existence?"

....

Well, something like that! But your last sentence gave me an idea so let me cook and maybe I'll write more! Thank you for reading~

[eerna]

Also what’s weird about arcanes writing this season is that it made no sense. It literally wrote misery for the sake of misery (killing isha for example just to make jinx suicidal) yet kept its happier tone shift? So many negative developments were framed as positive and not a tragedy, which I wouldn’t have liked it more if it Was framed as tragic bc again it felt like they were writing misery porn atp, but at least the tone would’ve been consistent. Like they abandoned the fact it had a tragic tone but still ended it on a tragic note except it’s not framed that way. SO WEIRD.

Also the amount of parallels and full circle moments that just didn’t make sense. They really thought if they wrote parallels or full circle moments it’s somehow makes it good writing without putting any thought into if doing so makes any sense (like the caitvi jail scene or ambessa invoking the wolf flashback and then calling Mel a wolf meant to be positive💀) But we are supposed to be happy bc ummm all the popular ships are canon I guess.

Also, on a sillier note, I couldn’t stop thinking about that arcane tweet about the music being too on the nose shdjajfbksfn it took me out so many scenes, especially the bad ones like caitvi sex scene and jinx “death.” I did like the music this arc, there were some really good ones, but every time I thought a scene was already bad a song would come on and narrate it to me and it would kill me.

YEAHHHHHH it is very tonally inconsistent and the parallels for the sake of parallels are super obvious.... The song part is so true fbdjsafk. I think hearing a basic sex pop song in the sex scene snapped something within me (IT EVEN MENTIONED AMERICA JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER BASIC SEX POP SONG). My personal favorite was Jinx' suicide song just saying she wants to die over and over again, and then when Vi is holding her dangling over an abyss, the song said "LET ME GO LET ME GO" as if it's some kind of a full circle moment that everything has been leading up to and I just started laughing honestly

[seokgyuu]

part of the @svthub 70's collab

Lee Seokmin is a very successful and admired Detective in the NYPD. Up until now he has had no trouble catching the bad guys. But when an especially horrific serial killer starts roaming the streets of New York City and he faces perplexity for the first time in his career - his superiors send a unit from the FBI trained to profile Serial Killers, which contains none other than you - Seokmin’s High School Sweetheart.

Pairing: Detective!Seokmin x FBI Agent!Reader

Genre: Criminal Minds/Detective AU, exes to enemies to lovers, Serial Killer AU, angst, Smut (MDNI!)

Warnings: Serial Killer theme, description of violence, description of dead bodies, cult themes, mentions of suicide, mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, character death (none of the main characters); smut warnings: fingering, penetrative sex, dirty talk, usage of the word “baby”, begging, reader has female anatomy, unprotected sex, creampie

Wordcount: 15.8k

a/n: I finally made it!! after months and months of writer's block I finally finished this fic, and I am actually really happy with it. Please mind the warnings, as this goes into darker themes. I also want to note, that I am no expert in terms of criminal language especially during the 70s in the us. So, if you spot anything that isn't all that accurate, i apologize! I also want to thank @multi-kpop-fanfics, @bitchlessdino & @strawberryya for reading through this and telling me i, in fact, do not suck at writing lmao. ily guys!!

taglist: @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, @wongyuseokie

Lee Seokmin was a proud man. Proud of his grades in school and university. Proud of the man his parents had shaped him into. Proud of all the cases he had solved as a detective. With pride comes vulnerability, though. Especially in cases like these when he doesn’t have the right to be proud of himself. When he feels lost and helpless and his superiors look at him as if he had never solved a single case in his career. 

He knows. He knows he isn’t giving them or the people of New York City anything to go by. All he can do is say he needs more time. Time that no one has. 

“More people will die, Lee.” 

Seokmin hates Jeffrey Stolper. Hates him like fire burns. There is nothing he can do about it. Balling his fist under the table, Seokmin slowly raises his head. There is a certain emotion in Stolper’s eyes, an emotion Seokmin was happy to say he hadn’t seen many times before. His older colleague was gloating. While they were working together, their boss put Seokmin in charge because of the very obvious numbers differentiating them. Seokmin solved cases. Stolper left them cold. Seokmin couldn’t count the amount of times he had helped Jeffrey from drowning in his own misery, and this was the thanks he got. The older man was gloating because, for the first time in practically ever, Seokmin was lost. 

“Thanks, Stolper, couldn’t figure that one out myself,” he mumbled, letting his free hand roam over his sweaty face. Scoffing, the older male with the slowly graying hair leans back in his chair.

“Not the hot shot everyone says you are, aren’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up, this is not the time.” Seokmin’s voice is quiet but sharp, and Jeffrey laughs, his chest heaving as he seems to be vibrating with the horrendous sound of his arrogant laugh. It takes everything inside Seokmin not to get up from his chair and punch the hell out of the man. 

“Lee, Stolper.”

Both of them get up when their superior walks in, a big man with a receding hairline, a stubble on his strong face, and an old suit on his large frame. Frederic Bream isn’t much of an empath, but he does a good job. 

“Captain.” Seokmin and Stolper speak at the same time, watching as the captain nods and then waves his hand, telling them to sit back down. Once all of them are seated, he clears his throat.

“I know you hate to admit it, Lee, but we have no leads on this. No leads and a new victim.”

Seokmin’s heart falls down to his feet. Fuck. Another dead girl? Who will it be this time? He feels sweat starting to form at the top of his head. 

“Another one?” Stolper is serious and reaches for the case file Bream put on the table. Seokmin feels as if someone had dumped him in ice water, unable to move, shivering. He hates the fact that Bream is right - there are no leads. So far they haven’t gathered anything from what this monster does except that he always does it the same way. 

“Lauren White, 23. Student at Columbia,” Stolper reads, his face in a grimace, “she was found near Times Square, too. Fuck, Lee, I told you to put more patrols out!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Even if we put every man we have on the streets, this city is huge, Stolper. He could just start moving them somewhere else.”

Stolper doesn’t respond. Instead, he shoves the file over to Seokmin, who takes it with his jaw tensed.

“This is different from before, boys,” Bream clears his throat, “this is a high-profile murder. She is the daughter of the district judge.”

Seokmin looks up from the file. 

“Why is this different from the other four victims? Because she has an important dad, suddenly the tables turn?” 

Bream sighs, pulling a hand over his red face. 

“It’s not fair, I know that, Lee. But this changes everything. The judge is furious. Was a real fucking asshole about it too, even for someone who just lost his daughter. He wants the slasher to be caught yesterday.”

“Oh, and we don’t? Captain, please, this is bullshit!” Seokmin scoffs, throwing the file back on the table and glaring at his superior, who looks straight back at him.

“I know. We all know Seokmin. It’s a bad situation. But, some might say, it did bring something good.”

“And what’s that?” Stolper speaks up, crossing his arms. Bream clicks his tongue.

“We got sent help. From the FBI.”

Silence is what follows. Seokmin feels the ice inside his veins melt and instead get replaced by fire. He knows Stolper feels the same. Everyone here feels the same. The fucking feds.

“They can’t take this from us. We’ve been on this for months,” Seokmin hisses, and Bream nods again, licking his dry lips.

“They won’t take it from us, Lee. They are only here to help. In fact, they aren’t… our usual feds.”

“What does that mean?” Seokmin raises his brows, leaning forward, hands on top of the table.

“They are a completely new department. Focused on the behavior of criminals, analyzing them, trying to figure out what is wrong with them.”

“They are killing people. That’s what's wrong with them!” Stolper shouts, and Bream holds up his hand. 

“I understand that you’re upset. God knows I am, too. But there is nothing I can do. Go talk to them. They just arrived.”

The ice is back, and this time it hits Seokmin right in the face. They are here already? Waiting for them? Embarrassment flows through his veins, mixed with an emotion he has never felt before regarding his job: failure. His legs are shaking as he gets up, but he tries to play it off, his body tensing when Bream leads them to the door and opens it. 

The hallway to the main hall suddenly feels longer than it is. The walls are closing in on Seokmin, the gray concrete threatening to suffocate him as he walks over the horrendous blue tiles he never understood were placed in the first place. Nothing really seems to be matching in this precinct. Most especially Seokmin and the federal agents waiting for them downstairs. He doesn’t know how his legs lead him to the glass front that shows the inside of the busy station downstairs. Everything is the same gray color. Everything is the same horrible blue. The only difference is the people standing in the right corner of the room all gathered around the whiteboard Seokmin has so carefully put together these past few months. 

His hands are sweating. This isn’t fair. This is his case. They aren’t supposed to be here and take credit for what he has done so far. What exactly have you done, Lee Seokmin? The voice in his head reminds him, and he balls his hands into fists as Bream opens the door leading to the stairs that will finally bring him to the federal agents he knows he’ll hate already. 

The atmosphere in the room is tense. More tense than usual because everyone in it is unhappy with the current situation. As if it isn't hard enough that there is a killer on the loose, now there are FBI agents trying to take this away from the NYPD? This is his town, Seokmin’s town! No one knows it as well as him. He knows every corner, every store. Every good place to eat, every bar to avoid. The people know him; they trust him with this, and now he is just supposed to accept that he can’t continue what he started?

He doesn’t know how, but somehow, he does end up right behind all the agents and one of the other detectives, Jeanne, and doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he is bitter. His arms are crossed as he listens to Jeanne explaining what is on the board. She had been a part of this - just like all the other detectives had been whenever they could. It’s not like crime suddenly stopped in New York City just because a serial killer was roaming around. If anything, it just got worse. 

“That’s about all we’ve gathered. I know it’s not much, but it’s all we got.” Jeanne closes her explanation, and Seokmin watches the backs of the agent's head nodding. Bream then clears his throat, making the others aware that they have joined and once the team of strangers turns around, Seokmin thinks someone has yet again taken a bucket of ice and dumped it all over his head. Because why on earth are you here? 

You see him the second he sees you. It’s almost funny how your professionalism slowly slips out of your control, how seeing him makes memories flood your brain and almost drowns you. Why is he here? He, who had left you with a sour taste seven years prior to this moment? Why is he standing there in a well-fitted suit, looking the best he ever had in a precinct that shouldn’t have anything pretty inside it? 

“Detectives, may I introduce you to agents Son, Song, Kim, Seok and Y/L/N. They were sent here by the FBI to help us with the investigations.” Jeanne smiles, but Seokmin knows it’s not an honest smile. You see it, too. When you had gotten the memo to go to New York City and help with the slasher murders, you had already known the detectives wouldn’t be too happy to see you and your team. 

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m the team leader, Hyunwoo Son.” You hear your boss speak, and you want to look at him, but your eyes are back to being glued to Seokmin. Lee Seokmin. The one who had taken everything from you when you were nineteen. 

“You too. I’m Detective Stolper. This is Detective Lee.” Bream doesn’t sound sincere. For once, Seokmin is relieved his older colleague likes to speak over him. He doesn’t know if he would have been able to say a word. 

Catching a serial killer is one thing. Catching him with someone you share an uncomfortable history with, another. You are sitting as far from Seokmin as you possibly can. With as many people between you as there are. 

Hyunwoo is standing at the front with Matthew, explaining what your team has gathered as of now. The rest of the precinct is listening to the presentation, and you just know they are all biting their tongues. No one wants you here. All of them think you’re a fraud. While you understand where they are coming from, you also think it’s time for them to accept the newly found ways to analyze the behavior of killers like the case at hand: the Manhattan Slasher. The air is thick with sweat, and you are sure 70% of it is yours. 

“We want to make clear that the work your precinct and especially you, Detective Lee, have done so far is incredibly helpful. We don’t want to discredit what you’ve done and we also don’t want to make you feel as if you’re getting kicked off the case. We aren’t your usual federal agents, Detectives, we are here to be of support to you. You still go outside and look at the crime scenes. You still get to do your work. We are here to assist, to see things we have been trained to see, things you cannot see, not for lack of smarts but lack of training.”

You had always admired Hyunwoo. How he spoke so clearly and calmly, how he never failed to make a person feel seen. You can feel the atmosphere shift. Some of the police officers visibly relaxing in their seats. You still don’t dare to look at Seokmin.

“Now, to what we have gathered. Dr. Matthew Seok will lead you through it.”

Seokmin wonders how old Matthew Seok is. He can’t be any older than 23. How on earth is he already a part of one of the newest FBI departments? And gets to be in charge of the presentation? And how does he already have a god damn PhD?

“Hi everyone, I’m Dr. Matthew Seok. With the help of the information you’ve gathered, we were able to come up with a profile for our unsub.”

Seokmin feels a scoff in his throat but manages to hold it back. A profile? What is he talking about?

“We are positive the unsub is a white man in his early to late 30s. He most probably grew up with an abusive mother, which explains why he only picks women as his victims. He doesn’t care about their race or social standing, which tells us he doesn’t hate one specific type of woman, but all of them. The age range of his victims is from early to mid twenties, meaning his mother had him young and gave him up around that time.”

You should be used to it by now. The reaction from the precincts. But it bothers you just as much as it usually does. The way they look at each other, the way they are already fed up with you being here. Your eyes wander over to the rest of your team, who you know are just as fed up as you, but they are better at hiding their emotions. Yuqi just stands there with her gum in her mouth, her arms crossed, and hoping she’ll get to go on the field soon. While she is an excellent profiler, she did train to become a field agent. It was pure coincidence that Hyunwoo had overheard her talking about this one case even Matthew had been struggling with. Jungwoo is the quietest one of your team, especially in situations like this. He just stands there, hands folded in front of his frame, eyeing the situation calmly. The team leader himself stands next to Matt still, his arms crossed as well and his gaze wandering over the crowd of people. A traitorous part of you envies him for being able to look at Seokmin without any repercussions. 

“How the fuck do you know that?” A voice now erupts from the sea of people. You turn around to see the man who had walked in with Seokmin. Stolper, you think his name was. A frown appears on your face.

“It’s not our job to explain profiling to you,” you say coldly and the older man’s eyes find you - just like Seokmin’s do. You decide to ignore them and turn back to face Matthew.

“Uhm. Yes, well, we do ask you to look into certain… well, behaviors. People like our unsub aren’t exactly the most masculine. He is probably very thin and might even have a disability - perhaps a prosthetic leg or something that makes him feel inferior. Look into churches, veteran centers, see if you find anyone that could match the profile and-,”

“You mean to tell me that the killer could be a vet?” Bream now interrupts, his eyebrows raised. Seokmin presses his lips together. If his colleagues hadn’t been wary of your bunch before, they sure as hell are now. War Heroes? Their precious American patriots that fought for their country and won a war? How could you even dare to speak ill of them? 

“No. He most probably didn’t serve. He tells people he did and that that’s the reason he has said disability,” Matthew continues calmly and you smile slightly. It was a reach, your reach, but so far all your reaches had been a shot to the bullseye. 

Then there was a sudden thud somewhere behind you, followed by hurried footsteps and news none of you could pretend didn’t make you sick to your stomachs.

This feels wrong. It’s broad daylight, there are people everywhere. You stand next to Matthew, your hands buried in your pockets, and listen to the statement of the girl that had called the police. 

“She was just next to me and then.. and then suddenly she wasn’t. I- I was confused and looked around and then I saw this- this man and how he dragged her by the arm into his car. No one did anything, no one- no one helped her and I- I didn’t-,” her voice breaks off and another set of tears well up in her eyes. Seokmin nods understandingly.

“Miss, you have nothing to blame yourself for. It is a busy street and you and your friend were not glued by the hip, alright? We will do our best to find her and you shouldn’t worry about what you could have done differently. You called us right away and that's the best thing you could’ve done.”

Tears are rolling down her face, sobs are erupting from her tiny body, and you wonder if Seokmin would ask her out if it wasn’t for the circumstances. The second the thought hits your brain, you freeze. What the hell? Why on earth would your mind go there? In a situation like this? You shake your head to yourself and look around - the police have put tape around the area where Kelly has gotten abducted. Her friend, Jean is being questioned, along with the few other people who claim to have seen something. But other than the witnesses, there isn’t much to go on about. The car he had dragged Kelly into had been an old one and Jean couldn’t exactly tell what kind. She also hadn’t been able to make out the license plate. So, all in all, it was all more or less useless information. 

“Detective Lee, I will need you to go to the morgue with Dr. Seok and Y/N,” Hyunwoo is suddenly there, right next to Seokmin and you hear his voice and feel your stomach tighten. The professionalism has to stay in its place, you know that. There is no room for you to fall back into old patterns; that one silly thought you had earlier was enough. You can’t let it get any further. 

But the tension is there and it's suffocating. You’re in the backseat of Seokmin’s car and Matthew is talking the man’s ear off with information you have heard millions of times before. Thankfully your friend and colleague doesn’t feel what you feel, what Seokmin feels, and for a short second you ask yourself how he even became the youngest member of your team - only for you to remember you have never met a mind as brilliant as his, with the exception of human interaction. He isn’t too good at those. 

The morgue is just like any other you’ve been in. This one still feels different, though. Probably because of the young girls you know shouldn’t be dead laying on top of the examination tables with nothing but a thin blanket over their pale, lifeless bodies. You should be used to this by now, you think. But you doubt you ever will be. 

Matthew is standing next to one of the women, the fourth victim, Fernanda Franco, with this look on his face you’ve seen many times before. You’re standing opposite him, your arms crossed and your eyes shifting over the body, wondering how much pain these women had been in.

“He did a thorough job with the cut,” the coroner says now; he is standing on the side of the room, holding a file, “my guess is he is good with a knife, maybe working with animals.”

“Right,” Matthew mumbles, a frown on his face as he leans forward, eyeing the victim from top to bottom. It’s somewhat fascinating how good he is at spotting things others haven’t seen before. Perhaps it had made you jealous a while back, but fortunately, that is over. Instead of being jealous, you appreciate his work and his abilities. 

Seokmin, meanwhile, is also looking through files. Mostly from the crime scenes. How the women looked before the coroner took care of them. The fact that they are all still here, and not yet down under, no funeral held at this point, makes his stomach turn. He knows it’s wrong. But as long as they haven’t found the killer, as long as there might be more evidence on the bodies… Seokmin suppresses a sigh. He wants to give the families the chance to find closure so badly. If only by giving them the opportunity to put their daughters, sisters, grandchildren to rest. 

The pictures are still hard to look at. The blood everywhere. The stained clothes. The signs of clear torture. Nothing sexual, at least. But then again, perhaps the killer doesn’t need to sexually assault them to feel arousal. That’s what Matthew said earlier. Seokmin closes the file and pulls a hand through his hair, his hat safely stored on one of the cabinets. 

“Dr. Richmond,” Matthew’s voice makes Seokmin look over to where you are standing. 

“Dr. Seok?” Richmond walks over to Matthew who is standing bent over the body, his hand holding… the victim’s ear. Immediately, you and Seokmin step closer, both of your eyes glued to the women’s earlobe. Something inside your stomach turns, goosebumps suddenly all over your skin and you feel your breath getting stuck in your throat.

“Why wasn’t this in the files?” Matthew now continues to ask, his eyes not leaving what he found. Dr. Richmond feels his face go pale and sweat starts to form on the palms of his hands. Blood is rushing through his ears and there is nothing he can say, nothing he can try to come up with because the bitter truth is-

“He didn’t know it was there,” Seokmin finishes the thought and Richmond swallows hard, hands wiping away at his lab coat. The detective is right. 

“Do all of them have this?” You ask now, finally able to move away from Fernanda and move over to Jennifer Cartwright, who looks way too peaceful for what had happened to her. But then, you are happy she does. A part of you hopes she is feeling peace wherever she may be. When you reach for her earlobe, you already know it will be there. You take a deep breath. 

“I’m- I don’t understand. I never… nothing like this ever happened, I-,” Richmond’s voice echoes through the room, but none of you pay him mind. The small crosses, carved into the soft tissue of the women’s earlobes, take all of your attention. 

There were only a handful of people in the meeting room. Your team and Seokmin and his superior officer. It bothered you, kind of. More people had to know. 

“These crosses, they have been used before,” Matthew is pacing through the room and Hyunwoo is right there at the front of it, his arms crossed and his thumbnail between his teeth. He is thinking, listening.

“This was in the late fifties, early sixties. A cult, they all followed this one man, Jonathan Brixley. He claimed to have somewhat superpowers, and while most didn’t actually believe him, he was such a good preacher, they followed him anyways. They weren’t known for being violent up until they seemed to vanish. Many thought they might have done a suicide pact, but no bodies were ever found. But what we do know is that whenever one of their own died, they would carve a little cross into their earlobe. Almost unnoticeable. Almost like a birthmark - it’s not even that surprising Dr. Richmond didn’t catch on.”

“He didn’t catch on that all of the girls have the same strange birthmark?” Seokmin frowns. You roll your eyes.

“We are all aware that this isn’t the ideal situation, Detective, but perhaps being bitter about it doesn’t make it better.”

It’s the first time you and Seokmin have directly talked. Or more like, the first time you had openly acknowledged each other's presence.

“With all due respect, Agent, I don’t care. I want to be bitter, I am allowed to be bitter. If we had known this weeks ago, we might have cracked the case by now!”

“I highly doubt that, Detective. With all due respect,” Matthew chimes in and the (unpleasant) moment between Seokmin and you is over. 

“And why is that?” Seokmin’s superior officer asks. 

“Well, as I said, the cult vanished. Finding out where the last remaining members are is almost an impossible task. If there even are any - I doubt they’d wanna be found. For all we know, they could be hiding in plain sight and we wouldn’t know.”

The atmosphere gets even more uneasy. If that’s even possible at this point. Seokmin scoffs and looks away, his hands in fists. You should know how to de-escalate but your head comes up empty. It’s almost as if there is an invisible barrier that forbids you from actually trying to be reasonable with Seokmin. 

Just when Hyunwoo seems like he wants to say something, the door opens. One of the police officers, a woman with red hair you don’t know the name of, comes in.

“We have a situation,” she says and her eyes are full of something even you, a profiler, isn’t so sure what the meaning of is. It looks like fear, confusion, but also something like hope. Immediately, everyone gets up and follows her outside, where you spot the board with all the pictures of the victims on it… and a red thread connecting one of them to a new face.

“That’s the girl I talked to earlier.” Seokmin breathes and he looks over at Ruth, who nods. 

“Yes, Detective. Jean told us that she knows one of the girls - Rebecca Twain. They used to go to the same church, same goes for her friend, Kelly, that she called in as abducted.”

Your eyes widen at that and you look over at Matt, who has his hand over his mouth, his face in a frown. A church. That fits the idea of the cult. All of you who were in the room earlier know that. This is good, this is an actual clue, one that might even lead to something after all! 

“What church?” Bream now asks the police officer named Ruth. 

“She wasn’t too sure. Said they haven’t been there in ages. She knew Rebecca when they were children and Kelly came to join them a few years later. But they haven’t gone to the church in at least 12 years. She said she would call us with more information, but so far she hasn’t.”

It doesn’t take a genius to understand why she hasn’t called the station yet. You sink down, leaning against one of the desks now, a hand rubbing over your face. This was bad. Seriously bad. Whenever a cult was involved in anything, it could only be so much worse than anticipated. Of course, her parents wouldn’t let her talk about it. Who would ever want to talk about something like this? Being part of a cult, if now or in the past - with everything happening these past years. 

“We need to speak to her parents. Now.” Hyunwoo is already out the door, probably heading to his car and you look over at the rest of your team, who all seem more or less as lost as you. It turns out to be Seokmin who follows your team leader first and once you see his figure speed past you, you also begin to move. 

The ride is quiet. Hyunwoo’s hands are white around the steering wheel. You sit next to him in the front, Seokmin in the back. All of this feels surreal to you and you are sure it’s not that different for Seokmin. Serial Killers were a constant part of both of your lives, but you - you haven’t been for a good amount of years. It’s like a bad taste in your mouth, as if somehow the food you would always cook perfectly suddenly went bad, had a foul ingredient in it, was cooked for too long. You’re not sure what it is, but it doesn’t sit right with you. 

Seokmin, in the back seat, feels about the same as you. He is used to gruesome murders, to killers who don’t care about anything but themselves, but he isn’t used to having you around in all of this. Someone from his old life that he doesn’t associate with any of this. Never in a million years would he have predicted you becoming a federal agent. When you dated back in high school, you had always talked about wanting to go into politics, fighting for women’s rights, feminism, all that jazz. You had even applied to all the IVYs, wanting to study political science. So, how did you end up here? 

“We will have to be careful.” Hyunwoo now breaks the silence and makes Seokmin and you look at him.

“The parents won’t be too happy to share their story, I can imagine. No one likes to admit they were in a cult, not after Manson.” 

You nod and Seokmin scoffs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. 

“One would think people wouldn’t even join any cults after Manson,” he says and Hyunwoo laughs bitterly, nodding slightly as he takes the next right at the intersection.

“Right. Sadly, it isn’t as easy as that.”

You look at Seokmin through the rearview mirror, watch how his jaw is tightened and how his arms are crossed, how his suit jacket is discarded next to him on the backseat. You wonder how long he has been part of this lifestyle, how long he’s been a cop. You hadn’t heard from him in years, not even when your friends offered to do some digging for you. It wasn’t because you weren’t interested. More so because you felt like you would get too invested. Looking away again, you straighten out your shoulders. This isn’t the time to think about the past, there are way more important things to focus your energy on. 

Five minutes later, Hyunwoo finally parks the car in front of the house of the Roger’s and the three of you get out to walk over to the front door where Hyunwoo rings the doorbell twice. It only takes about twenty seconds before the door opens and a slim woman with bright red hair and red lips stands in front of you, an apron around her waist and a mitten in her hand.

“Yes?” She looks at you with blinking eyes and the three of you take out your respective badges. The woman’s eyes widen. 

It is safe to say that getting information out of Jean’s parents is almost impossible. They are a middle class family with middle class friends, he works in real estate and she does her best to keep the house and children under control. They don’t want to talk about their past at the church, or more like, they try to deny it ever was a part of their lives. Talking to them comes close to talking to a wall, if the wall felt guilt and shame and was worried about its reputation. Only when you mention Jean for the third time, reassuring her parents that they aren’t in trouble and that no one was going to find out, that the only mission you had was to find the missing girl and find out who had killed the other innocent women - they budge. 

Mr. Rogers gets up, a certain shake in his knees, and walks over to one of the dark hardwood dressers standing on the right side of the spacious living room, where he opens a drawer and takes out what looks like a little notebook. You, Hyunwoo and Seokmin look at him attentively. 

“We haven’t talked to anyone from that church in years. Or well, we hadn’t. Up until a few weeks ago. You see, there used to be this… this farm. It was for retreats, we would go there every other month. Sing and pray, meet new people from other parts of the country,” he begins to explain as he walks back, reluctantly handing the notebook to you. Taking it with a small thank you, you look at the page he had opened it to and see a number and a name. 

“This is the name and telephone number of the couple that bought the farm years ago. We- we haven’t been going to the retreats since 1961, but a couple weeks ago an old acquaintance from the church called us. Kathryn Anderson, she was pretty close to Pastor Brix-,” he stops himself mid sentence, “to, uh, to Mr. Brixley. She wanted to know if we knew who bought the farm.” “And what did you tell her?” Seokmin asks now. 

“He told her no. That we were never interested in knowing,” Mrs. Rogers now answers the question for her husband, “you see, when we left the church it was mostly because of Jean. We figured after a while that perhaps this church wasn’t what we wanted for our daughter. So, we left. It wasn’t easy, but we did it. A couple months later, the whole thing fell apart anyway. Kathryn wasn’t around for that because she had been arrested about six months before we left the church. Got a good couple of years behind bars for attempted murder, the woman. When she got out, she couldn’t reach anyone - after all, the church didn’t exist anymore. Jonathan had perished, no one knows where he ended up and she was unsure what to do. So, she finally got a hold of us and wanted to know everything about the farm. But again, we told her we didn’t know who bought the farm. We just told her it was over and that she needed to find a different safety net.”

You look over at Hyunwoo, wondering if he thinks the same thing you do.

“But you obviously do know who owns the farm now.” He says calmly. The housewife swallows, then nods.

“We do. Paul actually sold the farm to them.”

How convenient, you think. Hyunwoo smiles and Seokmin clicks his tongue.

“I see. Well, thank you for the name and number, but now it would be great if you could also let us know the address.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, your arms crossed in front of your chest. Hyunwoo is sitting at his makeshift office desk, rubbing his temples.

“What exactly do you not understand, Y/N?” 

“Why we need to go to the farm. Or no, why he and I need to go.”

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N. Matthew confirmed it, the cult used this farm back in the day. There could be a lead there. And you and Detective Lee are going because you’re my best agent and he’s their best detective. I also feel like you two need some bonding time. Honestly, I’ve got no clue what your issue is with him, but you’ll need to get your act together. This is a serious case and I can’t have you dislike the main detective.”

Dislike. That’s one word to describe it. You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“So, you will drive to the farm with him and talk to the couple as well as check out the surroundings. See if you find anything that could be helpful to the case, got it?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Hyunwoo nods, satisfied. He then waves his hand, telling you to get out and do your job. You suppress a sigh and instead walk out and almost into your newly assigned partner - Seokmin. He looks about as happy about the situation as you feel, but neither of you says a word while you walk out of the precinct and to the car that would take you the 100 mile drive to Schnecksville, Pennsylvania. 

“You drive.” Seokmin’s voice rips you out of your thoughts and you thankfully react quick enough and catch the keys he throws at you. Rolling your eyes, you walk over to the other side and open the car, sitting down in the driver’s seat. The second your door is closed and Seokmin’s door is closed, his presence almost drowns you. 

“I was always better at reading maps than you,” he mumbles next to you and you feel your cheeks heat up and your stomach turn and you decide to ignore him and instead start the car. 

Seokmin presses his lips together, the map on his lap and his heartbeat loud and clear in his ears. Bream really thinks he did something. Putting Seokmin in a car with you for the next two hours. Apparently, your little bit of tension did not remain unnoticed and now this was his punishment. But what was he supposed to do? Tell Bream that you were his ex-girlfriend from high school who he had left seven years ago with nothing better than a pathetic letter goodbye. It hadn’t been his finest moment, but god, he was nineteen. Back then, he had enlisted in the army after high school, something he was bound to do anyways, and being cowardly as he was, he just hadn’t felt like telling you in person. Then, when he had been discharged, he had signed up for the academy and here he is now. He knows he should say something, apologize for the way he left you. But his pride and the shame don’t let his lips move, don’t let the words come out. And so he just looks at the map and waits to give you instructions. That’s what he can do. That’s how he can cope with being next to you. 

The drive is long and quiet and you turn on the radio at one point, listening to quiet music almost soothing. The highway is wide and the city is behind you and you wonder how long you’ll have to be in this car before your head starts to actually fume from all the thoughts running around. 

When you see the sign for Schnecksville, you almost sigh in relief. Seokmin tells you which exit you have to take and you follow his instructions, wondering how you actually got through this drive without any actual communication besides his directions. 

Schnecksville is filled with nothing and a gas station. You also pass a motel and a convenience store on your way to the farm that is a few miles away from the city center. Once you finally arrive, you can’t get out of the car quick enough, shoving the keys into your jacket when the car is locked. The farm is bigger than you had anticipated and Seokmin, who has discarded his jacket and hat on the backseat, looks just as surprised as you.

“Guess we have some ground to cover. Come on.” He takes the lead and you follow him, even though a part of you feels the need to run ahead. You don’t. You’re not a child. 

The woman who opens the door is in her early sixties with graying hair and a cat in her arms.

When you and Seokmin introduce yourselves and show your badges, she gasps slightly.

“Oh, you know, my sweet peach always runs out when I open the door, she is sick, can’t really find her way back when she gets out. Come on in, agent, detective.”

Her name is Mabelle Travis and her husband is Keith Travis, but he isn’t at home right now. He is getting some groceries for them. 

“How kind of your husband to help you with that,” you say as you sit down on the couch in the pastel colored living room. Mabelle nods, letting the cat back down.

“Oh, he is the one with the driver’s license, dear. I can only go grocery shopping if he comes with me. Or our son is in town.”

You nod and look over at Seokmin, who is looking at some of the family pictures on the dressers by the door. 

“Your son doesn’t live with you, ma’am?” He asks and Mabelle shakes her head as she sits down on one of the horrifically green armchairs. 

“No, Detective. He used to, you know, live with us. But that was before we bought the farm. My husband always dreamt of having a farm. When he retired, he thought it might just be the time.” She laughs and looks from Seokmin to you.

“But, what can I do for you?”

“Well, we were wondering if you’d be alright with us looking around the farm? We don’t know if you know, but the farm used to belong to a church before you bought it.”

“Ah, yes. We did know. I think that’s why we got it cheap. What exactly are you looking for, agent?”

“We’re not sure. But we think the church might have some connections to a case we are currently working on.”

Mabelle nods, her face in a frown. 

“Oh my. Well, you’re in luck then. We bought the farm years ago, but only recently moved in. So, most of the barns are still untouched. Only this house has been through some construction,” the cat jumps up on her lap and Mabelle smiles down at it, her hand carefully caressing its fur.

“That’s good news, Mrs. Travis. We’ll go take a look then.” Seokmin nods his head towards the back door and you smile at Mabelle before getting up and following Seokmin outside. There are three barns in total - one is large and two are on the smaller side, leaving the two of you with enough ground to work with for the next few hours. You exchange looks and decide to check out the smaller space first, a barn that is completely bare except for a wooden table at the far right that holds a few blueprints. Seokmin checks them out, his eyes scanning them for anything out of the ordinary. You, meanwhile, begin to knock at the wall, listening for hollow spaces, but also come back with nothing. The barn seems as normal as a barn could be. 

The second one is a little trickier. It’s not empty, instead it’s filled with boxes that, after checking as good as each and every one, all seem to be empty. You check your wrist for the time, wiping your forehead with the back of the other hand. You’ve really been at it for the last two hours. 

“I think we should move on to the last barn. I doubt the rest will hold anything of worth. Come on.” Seokmin is next to you all of a sudden and you flinch, looking away from your watch and at the man, who has sweat dripping down his temple. His eyes are set on your face and you wonder if you look just as exhausted as he does. Clearing your throat, you nod and turn away from him, walking out of the barn and to the next one. 

Seokmin sighs, following you outside and grabbing your arm once he catches up with you. 

“Y/N, I am just as delighted about doing this with you as you are with me, believe me. But perhaps we should at least try to do our job.” 

His words sting more than they should have and you are well aware of that. Funny to think that such wounds would have healed after seven years. You shake off his hand and turn around to face him.

“Oh, is that right, Seokmin? You’re just as delighted as I am?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “As far as I can remember, Detective, you left me with nothing more but a joke of a letter.”

Seokmin bites down on his tongue. You are right. Maybe it wasn’t right of him to compare the two of you.

“I know that. I know I hurt you. And I should have apologized for that years ago. I was young and-,”

“Let me guess? Stupid? That is in fact correct, Seokmin. But I don’t care about an apology, at least not anymore. I just want to get this over with, not have chit-chat with you about the past which neither of us can change anymore. So, will you go to the third barn with me so we can finally leave this stupid town?”

Seokmin watches you walk away, his heart heavier in his chest than before. He really should have reached out sooner. Pulling a hand through his hair, the detective suppresses another sigh and finally follows you to the third and last barn for you to check. 

The Travises invite you for dinner and Seokmin and you are both too polite to decline. Thankfully Mabelle is incredibly talkative, loves telling you all the tales about their son, Henry, and how they used to live in the city but then moved to a smaller town. She is excited about her husband’s birthday coming up soon and Henry coming over to visit, and basically her favorite topic to discuss is him. You try your best to resist the urge to look over at Seokmin next to you, to see if he is as amused about this as you are. He is not your ally, not your friend. You shouldn’t be looking for his gaze, shouldn’t be curious of his thoughts. 

“Does your son visit you often?” Seokmin now asks after taking a sip from his glass filled with tap water. 

“Not as much as we’d like.” Mrs. Travis sighs and pats her husband’s hand.

“He is busy with working in the city, not always available.” Mr. Travis now explains and Seokmin and you nod. That makes sense. You try to remember the last time you had time to visit your own parents. You couldn’t even really remember. 

“If there is something we want to check again, would it be alright if we came back?” Seokmin asks when you finally stand at the front door, saying your goodbyes. The Travises nod, allowing you to come back whenever. After waving at them you walk back to the car, Seokmin now getting into the driver’s seat. As you sit down on the passenger seat the atmosphere quickly becomes tense now that you’re alone again. The second your doors are closed, a familiar sound is heard.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking.” 

Rain. It’s starting to rain. What starts with a few drops on the windshield turns into a full on piss of rain that has the both of you staring at the scene for a few seconds. When a second later you hear thunder so close it almost shakes the car, Seokmin reluctantly starts the engine.

There is no way in hell you can drive home in this weather. As much as the both of you hate it, you’ll have to stop somewhere and wait out the storm. Seokmin suggests the motel you had seen on your way here and you nod, knowing there wasn’t much else you could say or do. Having to stay somewhere with Seokmin, somewhere you couldn’t just flee from, seems like the number one worst scenario you could find yourself in. You look at him from the passenger seat, trying to my sly about it but of course he notices your eyes on his face.

“Believe me, I would rather not do this either, Y/N. But I’d rather be safe than drive on the highway in this weather.”

You don’t answer him. Mainly because you would have to tell him he is right and that’s most definitely not going to happen. 

“What do you mean by that?” Seokmin looks at the bored looking woman in her fifties. She sighs and shoves the one room key towards him again. 

“I mean, Sir, that there is only one room left. We are fully booked. Have you seen the rain?” 

It’s very obvious a rhetorical question but Seokmin is about to go on a rant to tell the woman that, of course, he has seen the rain but how on earth does this justify there only being one room in a god damn motel miles away from any big city? 

“We’ll take the room,” you quickly interject, handing the lady your credit card that she looks at with a straight face.

“Honey, you’re in the middle of nowhere. Do you really think we take those things?” You feel your cheeks heat up, retreating the card again.

“That’s 16.50$ for the night,” she continues and you hand her a twenty that she takes without a word, shoving the change over the wooden surface, “have a pleasant stay.” She shoves down the small plastic window and you and Seokmin exchange a quick look before making your way to the room you will now have to share. 

There is only one bed. You stare at it and so does Seokmin. Because - of course there is. How could you have not asked the woman at the counter? But then again even if you had… there wasn’t much you could have done about it. Maybe a saw, you think, just saw it in half. The two of you stay silent for a good minute, before Seokmin finally sighs, pulling a hand over his face. 

“Looks like we can’t do much about this. Just… it’s just one night, alright? We can do this.” 

You don’t really understand why he would say that. Why he would speak for you, when you both know it isn’t okay and you most definitely can’t do this. You take a deep breath, throwing your bag onto the very dirty looking armchair next to the door. 

“Whatever,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you make your way into the bathroom, if only to get away from Seokmin for a short while. His presence is stressing you out more than you thought it would. Perhaps that had been foolish of you - thinking this wouldn’t be the absolute worst thing to ever happen. But at the same time, it’s not like Hyunwoo had given you much of a choice. He had straight up told you to get your act together and yet… You sigh, the door closed next to you. The bathroom isn’t even half as bad as you had feared. It’s small and the shower could need a scrub (or three), but other than that it’s decent. The toilet looks clean and the mirror hanging over the sink shows you your exhausted face. Dark circles under your eyes that you touch with your cold finger tips. You remember how you looked back in High School. How much you smiled, how happy you were almost every single day. And all because of him. He, who promised you the world only to rip it away when you needed stability the most. It wasn’t fair. Him being here, him playing such a big role in something so important to you. Finding this killer that took lives like it was nothing. Seokmin is here with you and he sure as hell isn’t going anywhere else. The effect he has on you is annoying, to say the least. You don’t want to feel this way, feel insecure and small and like you need to prove yourself to him. He isn’t worth your energy, your thoughts. Not him as a person at least. Him as a Detective is a different story. Another deep breath followed by some water that you splash into your face, is what finally makes you step out again and face your ex-boyfriend that has taken a seat on the bed, the case file spread next to him. 

He is handsome. High cheekbones, perfectly shaped eyebrows. His hair is styled back, but slowly the front strands are falling into his face. His face is in a small frown as he looks at the documents, as he tries to make sense where you all fail to find any. Your heart betrays you by skipping a beat, by suddenly sending a wave of sadness over you. He never told you why he left. He just did. 

“Anything making more sense now?” You ask cautiously, walking over to him with slow steps. Seokmin looks up slightly before shaking his head. 

“Not really,” he mumbles, “it doesn’t make sense. None of this. Why is he curving the crosses into their ears? Why is he choosing these girls specifically?” You sit down on the other side of the bed, gnawing on your lower lip.

“Well, Matthew told you our theory. Abusive mother, hatred towards women.”

“But why- why would he just go after any woman if his mother was a certain type?” Seokmin looks up at you and you feel a sting in your chest. You shrug.

“You’re right to question this theory. It’s not perfect and it will take a few years until we can really say that we have a high percentage of accurate profiles. So far we’ve been good, very good. But not as good as we can be. This unsub is unique because he doesn’t have a type - it almost seems random. Like he goes out on the street and sees a girl and just takes her,” you lick over your lips, letting your eyes wander to the window, the storm on full display, “he is violent, but he also kills them quickly. No signs of sexual abuse. It’s odd and not like anything we’ve seen before.”

Seokmin listens to you speak and allows himself to actually listen. The whole profiling thing - it most certainly hasn’t been something he trusted so far. But now, hearing your words, seeing the look on your face - he almost feels ashamed of his earlier suspicion. 

“It’s just-,” he begins, his hand pulling through his hair, “it’s confusing. Why would he not go for people who look like his mother? Why is he not taking revenge on her over and over again?”

You feel your thoughts stumble over that sentence for a good thirty seconds. Seokmin is right - why wouldn’t he take revenge on his mother over and over again? Why would he kill women that look nothing like her? Without really noticing, you get up, your feet carrying you over to the window, staring at the rain outside, hoping it would give you the clue you so desperately need right now.

“You agree, don’t you? That it is odd!” Seokmin gets up too, only to turn around and look at the files again, his arms crossed, eyes scanning all the pictures and clues the team has gathered so far. 

“Yes, it definitely is odd,” you mumble, heart racing in your chest. 

“Okay. We’ll go over this again. There has to be something we’re missing. A connection between them, a club they all go to. Anything, just… fuck, it feels as if there is clue right there, hidden in plain sight and we are missing it because it’s too damn obvious!”

Hidden in plain sight. You blink against your reflection in the window. Hidden in plain sight. Matthew had said the same thing back at the precinct. 

For all we know, they could be hiding in plain sight and we wouldn’t know.

You swirl around, eyes wide and Seokmin looks at you with a confused expression. 

“What?” 

“The barn,” you breathe, eyes flickering to the table, where the car keys lay right where Seokmin left them, “we need to go back.”

Seokmin tries to stop you, the storm still howling outside, but you’re not letting him. This is too important, too obvious. You want to kick yourself for not realizing it earlier. For seeing something that was right there, but not actually seeing it. 

You run to the car, soaked from head to toe when you sit down on the driver’s seat. The door to the passenger seat opens and Seokmin plops down, just as drenched as you are.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, will you tell me what the fuck is happening right now?”

Instead of answering, you start the engine, the wipers doing their best to clear your view.

“Y/N!” Seokmin repeats loudly and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“It has to be in there! In the barn. All those god damn empty boxes. One of them has to have something in it, something they don’t want us to find. Fucking hell, we could have had the whole team here by now, Seokmin! If only we hadn’t been lazy!”

“Wait, hold on. So you think the Travises have something to do with this?” Seokmin asks and you shrug.

“Honestly? I don’t think they do. But it’s still their property now. And most of these boxes are theirs. I’m sure we’ll find something there. We just have to look at every single box.”

You’re almost in a haze, Seokmin thinks. Your eyes have completely changed and the way you drive this car would have been scary if only you weren’t so damn impressive. You have been impressive the whole day, Seokmin thinks. He would never say it out loud (not to you at least) but this job seems to fit you like a glove. Never did it cross his mind back in High School that you’d end up in the same field as him. He gulps down the nostalgia and instead looks out the window, wondering if the rain will stop anytime soon. 

It hasn’t been long since the two of you left the Travises and yet, when you arrive, the house is dark. Checking your watch you see it's already after 9pm. 

“They said we can come back whenever.” You say more to yourself than Seokmin, but the latter still nods, cursing under his breath when he steps out of the car and into the horrible weather. You run alongside him, passing the house and first barn, setting foot in the one you had a hunch about with both of you drenched from head to toe. Ignoring the cold creeping up, you begin examining the boxes once again. There is nothing extraordinary about them. They are the usual cardboard boxes one uses for moves, all over the country. It’s nothing you haven’t seen thousand of times before and-

“Y/N, look at this.” Seokmin’s voice fills the silence that has only been accompanied by the sound of rain and thunder before. Looking over at him, you see that he is holding up two different boxes upside down. There is a green dot on both of them. Your eyes widen. Quickly, you check your own box - but nothing. There is no dot. Confusion mixed with frustration begins to rise within you and you throw the box to the side, pulling clam hands through wet hair. 

“There has to be a system,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you try to calm yourself down. Seokmin hears your words and looks around the room, trying to make sense of how the boxes are lined up. They all look the same. They were all stacked the same when you came in earlier today. There isn’t anything about them that makes one different from the other - except for the dots he had discovered. His brain is working at full speed, his eyes roaming from one side of the room to the other. Only when he looks down, does he see something.

“Y/N, look,” he puts the two boxes he held up to the side and crouches down, your figure standing over him a second later. There were clear lines painted on the floor. He looks up at you and you feel your eyes beginning to shake, as you move as quickly as possible, shoving more boxes to the side and focusing on the floor. And yes, only a few moments later you find yet another line, one that contains boxes with more dots - orange ones. But it doesn’t stop there. Seokmin finds another line and boxes that, once again, don’t have a dot. He wants to pull his hair out, but once you begin looking at the boxes with him, your gaze full of determination, he calms down. Together, the two of you turn over every single box until, after what feels like hours, you let out a gasp. The box you’re holding now doesn’t only have a red dot on it - it also contains something. Seokmin is next to you right when you pull out the small key that makes both of you almost jump in glee. Your hunch had been right. Now all you had to do was find where the key belonged. Your eyes met and without words, Seokmin went to the left side of the room and you to the right one, both of your hearts beating at rapid speed at this point. Neither of you wants to or will leave this place until you find whatever door is hidden behind the wooden planks decorating the walls. Your hands flew over them, knocking to hear a hollow sound, anything that would indicate there being a hidden space. Nervous sweat was now mixing with the rain on your face, the earlier cold all forgotten thanks to the adrenaline you were feeling. 

“I got something!” Seokmin suddenly yells after a few minutes and you immediately turn and run over to him, seeing him break the wall free of the plank. Just that there is no wall. It is a thin wooden door with a small lock that looks like it was made for the key safely stored inside  the pocket of your jeans. Without any hesitation, you move forward, key back in your hand after pulling it out, and reuniting it with its lock - the door clicking open a second later. Seokmin and you look at each other again before you push the door with your hand, it easily swings open for you and Seokmin to see a narrow hallway led down by an old looking staircase. There is a string hanging down from the ceiling which Seokmin pulls on, lighting up the hallway for you to see more clearly. 

“Well, let’s go,” you say and Seokmin nods, both of you with one hand on your gun belts as you walk down the stairs, all the way down to a door that, thankfully, isn’t locked. Pushing this one open as well, you are met by another hallway, longer this time, with three doors leading to different rooms on each side. You feel adrenaline rush through you as you begin walking, Seokmin right behind you. The first two doors lead to empty storage rooms, you taking the ones on the left, Seokmin on the right. Your hands feel clammy and your senses are all heightened as you continue to the next door, opening it at once and checking the insides carefully, gun in your hand. No one is in there - but it’s also not empty. 

“Seokmin!” You call out and the man is beside you right then, eyes scanning the room. It’s an office, or at least it appears to be. Right on the wall across from you hangs a portrait of a beautiful landscape and only barely hides a very obvious closet of some sorts. You shove your gun back into your belt and walk straight up to it, while Seokmin goes to examine the desk standing at the left side of the room. He pulls out a pair of gloves from the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls them over his fingers before he begins to open each and every drawer. 

“There isn’t much dust around here,” you suddenly say and Seokmin looks over at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone comes here regularly. Cleans it of dust, keeps the floors clean.” You look around for a moment, then your focus is back on the painting hanging over the closet. Your hands are also wrapped up in a pair of gloves and you move slowly as you grab the edges of the frame to heave it off the wall. It occurs to you that the last time someone was here, they hadn’t succeeded in putting the painting back into its usual spot. You can tell because it comes off the wall without any problems, having been crooked from the beginning on. Now, you lean it against the wall next to you, before your hands open the closet. 

“Is something in there?” Seokmin walks over to you now, nothing interesting inside the desk.

Once he comes to a halt next to you, he feels himself gasp. There is a whole shelf with files that seem to be alphabetically organized. Your heart beat speeds up once more as you grab a random file (Br-Bu) and open it. 

“That-,” Seokmin’s eyes widen. As you continue staring at the page, he moves to pull out more of the files. He brings them over to the desk and opens them one by one, until he finds all the names he has been looking for.

“Broshard, Cartwright, Franco, Rogers, Twain and White.” 

Seokmin and you are staring at the files. It was all of the girls’ parents. They had all been part of this cult before. It made sense, of course it did. And yet, having it here, black on white, was still a shock. This meant their connection had been right there, so easy to grab, and none of the parents had thought about sharing this with the police. You lean against the desk, hands pulling through your damp hair. Seokmin’s hands are propped on his hips, his eyes reading over the names over and over again. 

“We have confirmation now,” he states, “we need to call the precinct.” He looks over at you and you nod, your hands still resting in your hair. Worry rushes through Seokmin and he finds himself standing in front of you a second later, his hands around your wrists to bring your hands back down softly.

“We will get him,” he says then, eyes boring into yours, “we will get him and he will be punished, Y/N, I promise you.”

It’s unprofessional, he knows it and so do you. You don’t ever promise to catch a killer. 

“Why didn’t the parents tell you?” Your voice is quiet and Seokmin sighs, shrugging. His hands are still holding you.

“I don’t know. Shame, fear? Whoever is doing this is a cold blooded murder, Y/N, they were probably scared he’d take even more from them.”

“More than a child?” You look up at him, letting the feelings that you’ve been holding back finally crack through. 

“I guess so? We will find all of this out tomorrow, we just need to get back to the motel and call the precinct.” 

He says the words but doesn’t move. Neither do you. You both stay right where you are, your eyes locked on each other. The air around you shifts, the exhaustion mixes with something you only have faint memories of.

“You are incredible, do you know that?” Seokmin whispers finally, “the way your brain works - it’s incredible. Admirable.” 

His body heat engulfs you, makes you feel hot and cold at the same time. You swallow down your doubts and instead let your heart do the talking.

“You’re just as incredible, Seokmin. All the work you’ve done in this case already… if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Seokmin feels himself holding his breath as his one hand moves from your wrist to your fingers, interlocking them with his own while the other moves up, cupping your cheek, thumb caressing the side of your chin. He feels your skin, the softness he remembers better than he wants to admit. 

Neither of you is sure who does it. Who dares to close the distance. But you’re kissing, his lips warm and familiar on yours. Your arms move by themselves, wrapping around Seokmin’s neck as he deepens the kiss, his tongue licking over your bottom lip slowly, asking for entrance that you give him without any hesitation. He kisses better than he did back in high school and his hands are more experienced, moving down and up to grab your hips and hoist you on top of the desk, standing in between your legs now. You grab his face, your tongue licking against his, feeling the stress and discomfort of the day leave you with every touch of his skin. The kiss grows more and more desperate, both of you panting against each other and only after a good five minutes do you part, his hands in your hair and yours on his nape.

“We should get out of here,” he mumbles against your lips then and you nod, letting him help you down the desk.

This time the drive isn’t awkward. It’s filled with something else, something you haven’t felt in so long. Not just regarding Seokmin - but in general. Your work is your everything and you and your team travel around the country more than you don’t. Wanting someone, feeling wanted by someone, this hasn’t happened to you in a while. Your gaze keeps wandering to the driving Seokmin, to the man that had once hurt you so much and now was the only thing you could concentrate on. 

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that I will park this car on the side of the road and not give a fuck about anyone seeing what I want to do to you, Y/N.”

His deep voice made your insides turn deliciously, the heat between your legs rising as you licked over your dry lips, eyes shaking as you nodded, averting your gaze from Seokmin’s intoxicating frame. As much as the idea excited you it also seemed like a stupid idea considering the motel really wasn’t that far away. 

It doesn’t take half as long as it usually would with Seokmin speeding down the road, finally parking the car in the parking lot, getting out of the car and opening the door for you, his hand around yours in no time as he leads you to the door, both of you drenched again when you step inside. But even with all the tension between you two, Seokmin walks over to the telephone on the wall, passing a young man who just seemed to have left his room to go outside. You present him with a nod when he smiles at you, quick to look at Seokmin again who is now dialing the number of the precinct. 

When he explains what you found, he speaks quietly and rushed, you by his side the whole time, holding his fingers between yours. The tension doesn’t subside, it only gets shoved to the side as Seokmin talks to his superior, who was still at the station at this time, waiting for your call. Your head feels dizzy, the situation bizarre but also somewhat addictive. The second Seokmin hangs up, knowing his colleagues will leave for Schnecksville as soon as the storm gets better, he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you to your room with hurried steps. 

The door falls shut behind the two of you and your body is pressed against it, Seokmin’s one hand skillfully wrapped around both of your wrists, pinning them over your head as he dips down to kiss you, his thigh pressing between yours. A moan escapes you, your hands wiggling under Seokmin’s grasp. He kisses you with the same desperation as before, his free hand underneath your shirt, fingers pressing into your skin. 

Nothing is inside your head except the need for him. You don’t want to feel anything but his touch, his kisses, the way his tongue feels against yours - hot and wet and perfect. He moves his arm around you again, picks you up as if you weigh nothing, carrying you over to the bed where he drops you, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. There is no light in the room beside the one coming from outside, making him look angelic. His carefully styled hair is falling into his face now, his lips red from your kisses. His pupils are blown out and the look in his eyes runs shivers down your spine. You watch as he gets rid of his jacket and belt, following his movement as you sit up a little bit, skillfully opening the belt with your gun and leaving it on the floor next to the bed, feeling the mattress move the next second as Seokmin lowers himself onto the bed. Your hands find his nape once more just as he presses his lips against yours again, hands roaming from your hips to your stomach and under your shirt, gripping your breasts one by one and moaning into your mouth when his thumb feels the stiff nipple underneath your bra. 

His tongue licks against yours again, your back arching against him as he moves to kiss down your neck, biting and licking and kissing all the same. When he hears your sounds, he feels himself growing harder, his composure almost breaking as he takes off your shirt with your help, shoving the cups of your bra to the side to dip down and suck your nipple into his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist as you push him closer to you, teeth sinking into you bottom lip. It feels like electricity between you, the way he touches you sends shocks through your body in the best way possible. 

“God, I can’t believe I have you under me again, fuck,” Seokmin breathes against your neck now, his breath tickling you. “Been thinking about you so much, you know? About how much more I know now… how I can make you cum, baby, eat your sweet pussy and have you scream my name.”

His words send another wave of shivers down your body and you nod, wishing for nothing more than for your and his clothing to land on the floor. 

“Seokmin… just want you to fuck me, please, need you so so bad.” 

He groans, cock twitching and he finally moves to open his pants. It’s all hurried and a little bit frantic, the way you pull on his shirt next and the way your bra basically gets ripped off your frame by him. It drives you crazy, how he kisses you, pushing you further up the bed, your head hitting the pillow as he devours your lips and tongue, his hand squeezing your tits over and over, his stiff cock right there between your legs, still caged in by his briefs. 

“How bad do you want it, hm?” He breathes out, his fingers now moving downwards, ending up over your clothed pussy, making you squirm.

“Fuck, so bad, Seokmin. Please.” 

He sucks on the skin underneath your ear and lets his fingers shove your panty to the side, sliding through your wet folds and moaning against you. You’re so wet, wet and ready for him. 

“I wonder if you still taste the same, baby,” he mumbles, continuing to let his fingers glide through your lips, letting one of them sink into you. Your pussy practically sucks him in, eager to feel him inside. Seokmin kisses you again and your nails are dragging along his back as your hips move against Seokmin’s digit inside of you. 

“M-more, want more of you,” you cry out when you come up for air and Seokmin nods, letting a second finger slide in too, fully finger fucking you now as he smothers your neck with more kisses, preceding to suck marks onto the sensitive skin of your breasts, your whimpers becoming more and more frenzied. You need his cock and you need it now. So, you let your hand wander down, grabbing around the wrist of his hand that is currently fucking you.

“Want your cock, Seok… fuck me with your cock.” His eyes meet yours, gaze almost crazy as he curses under his breath, nodding before pulling his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to suck them clean - making you whimper in the process. He licks his lips after.

“Still so tasty, baby… all for me.” 

He kisses you one more time, deep and emotional and dizzying, before finally ridding himself of his briefs and you of your panties, hand pumping his length a few times. You watch and swallow, remembering how he had felt back then. He had been your first. And now he was going to claim back what he had made his so many years ago. 

When he sinks into you, both of you cry out in pleasure, his arms on the mattress next to your head and his lips kissing your cheek, chin and lips. You are still hugging him close, fingers pressing into his nape and back. His first thrust is deep and slow and your eyes roll back, a long moan escaping your kiss-bruised lips. He can’t keep going slow, he knows that. As hard as he tries - he knows he won’t be able to control himself. Which leads to his thrusts becoming faster, to his moans becoming louder and your pussy clenching around him more often. It’s hot and wet and quick, it’s making you feel like you’re in a dream, his teeth sinking into your flesh, your cries spurring him on. Your legs are around his hips, his cock hitting you right where you need it to with every thrust and when you feel his hand sneaking in between you, thumb pressing down on your clit, rubbing it in perfect circles, you know you won’t last long. 

“You feel so good, baby, take my cock so fucking well.” He moves, on his knees in front of you now, your legs over his shoulders the next second. The new angle makes you see stars, especially with his thumb still on your clit.

“F-fuck, Seok! I’m so close.” Your cry makes him smirk, his movements becoming less and less controlled, as he is chasing both of your releases. You give up on keeping your eyes open, enjoying the way he feels, the way he hits you right where it feels so incredibly good. Your body is on fire, everything feels more intense and if you had the capacity in your brain you’d probably worry about exploding. 

And you do - you explode only a few seconds later, your orgasm hitting you hard, leaving you to cry out his name, nails back in his skin, leaving clear marks that he will be proud of later. 

“That’s right, baby, look at you, so pretty coming on my cock, fuck,” Seokmin feels you pulsate around him, feels how your pussy clenches over and over, milking him for all he has and there isn’t anything he can do but reach his own high, cum shooting out his cock and into your spent core. He collapses on top of you, your legs falling off his shoulders, spasming at the intensity of your climax. His breath is right there in your ear and you finally open your eyes again, fingers moving to stroke through his hair. You stay like this for a while, just catching your breath, feeling him so close after so long. Only when he slips out of you, laying down next to you, his lips pressing a kiss to your cheek, do you regain some senses. Smiling at him, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. 

When you come back out, Seokmin is asleep. Chuckling, you pick up his shirt from the floor and slip it over your head before laying back down, cuddling into his side and letting yourself drift off into a dreamless sleep. 

For Seokmin it’s not a dreamless sleep, though. It hasn’t even been two hours he’s been asleep when he wakes up, cold sweat covering his body. He looks down and sees you peacefully sleeping right beside him, one of your hands on his bare stomach, the other under your own cheek. In any other case he would have loved to look at you for as long as he could, but this isn’t like any other case. 

The man, he thinks, the man we saw yesterday. Seokmin gets up, careful not to wake you up, grabbing his underwear from the floor, just like his pants. You’re in his shirt so he has no other choice but to leave the room with his chest still bare. His feet carry him out the room and to the small entrance space, right to the phone where he dials Bream’s number again. The second someone picks up, Seokmin begins talking.

“It’s the son, Sir, the Travises son - he’s the unsub.”

The area in front of the farm hasn’t been this busy in years. There are cop cars everywhere, a S.W.A.T team is about to arrive. Seokmin has his hands pushed into his pockets as he talks to his superior officer. You are standing further away next to Matthew and Yuqi, listening to Hyunwoo’s orders. 

Seokmin had recognised the son, Henry, from the pictures at the house. You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner. 

“Don’t linger on those feelings, Y/N,” Hyunwoo says, “it had been a long day.”

Yes, a long day that ended with you being too horny to do your job properly. You don’t tell him that of course. Instead, you press your lips together and just nod. 

Henry is inside the barn now, the barn you and Seokmin found the secret door in last night. His parents and the missing girl, Kelly, are with him. It’s a classic hostage situation and yet even your team is at a loss of words. It all doesn’t make sense right now. Why is Henry doing this? You let your gaze flicker over to the barn, wondering what he is doing to them right now. 

The head of the S.W.A.T team is walking over to Hyunwoo now. They apparently arrived just now

“We are ready for your orders, Sir,” he says, shaking Hyunwoo’s hand. Your boss nods.

“Alright, thank you. I’ll let you know when you can go in.” The man leaves again after that and you look at Hyunwoo, unsure.

“We need him alive, don’t we?”

“In theory, yes. But it’s not always easy, you know that. Whatever is going on inside of him, we will only find out if we get him out, but we need to look at the bigger picture. We need to figure out what his deal is.”

Just then, Jungwoo arrives at the scene, carrying a white box. 

“You won’t believe this,” he says, putting the box on top of the police car next to you. Seokmin is suddenly next to you, his arm brushing against yours and making you shiver. You ignore the effect once again. 

“Henry Crawl, 36, was adopted by the Travises when he was 9 years old. It says here that his mother committed suicide and the Travises took him in - Mrs. Travis being is paternal aunt. She felt responsible for him, considering the father left right after his birth and his mother died.”

“So, they aren’t his biological parents. They didn’t mention that.” Seokmin frowns. 

“Which means that there is a chance his mother was part of this cult. Is there an autopsy report for his mum?” You take step closer to the box and Jungwoo nods, handing you the document. Scanning it, your eyes widen as suddenly the reason for all of this is starting to make sense. 

“There were signs of abuse - of years of abuse. Scars, bruises, internal damages.” You shake your head, “he isn’t killing women because he hates them. He kills them because he is avenging his mother.”

“She was part of the cult, probably around the same time as the parents of the girls. They probably knew about the abuse and he somehow figured it out.” Matthew chews on his bottom lip as he shoves his glasses up his nose. 

“We need to talk to him. Need him to let the girl go as well as his parents.” Hyunwoo looks over at the truck where all the special units are gathered. He excuses himself and goes over to them. The atmosphere shifts, there are nervous droplets of sweat running down your face. The storm might have stopped, but it’s still slightly drizzling down on you. Seokmin’s hand finds the small of your back. You flinch, your head turning to look at him wide eyed.

“It’s gonna be okay, we’re going to get them out of there,” his voice is soothing you, as much as you hate to admit it. You swallow down whatever you’re thinking and shake his hand off, before walking over to Hyunwoo and the special forces, leaving Seokmin behind.

“I want to talk to him.” Your voice breaks through the conversation Hyunwoo is having with the captain. Both of them look at you, eyebrows raised.

“Y/N-,” Hyunwoo starts, but you interrupt him.

“You know it has to be me. I am roughly the same age as his mother was back then. I am a woman. I know what is going on inside his head. Please, Sir, let me do this.”

If there had been more time, maybe they would have argued with you. But there isn’t any time. And so, they nod. As much as it makes you nervous, you also know that you’re right. You’re confident that you can do this, that you have the ability to save this girl and Henry’s parents. Taking a deep breath, you look over at Seokmin, who’s eyes speak more than a thousand words. He knows why you walked over there and he knows that you are the only one for the job. The smile on his lips reassures you more than you want to admit. 

Not even five minutes later you have a walkie-talkie in your hand. The other one landed in the barn roughly a minute ago. Now, you’re waiting for Henry to respond after your first attempt at contact. The rain is still falling softly, the sun nowhere to be seen in the sky. It’s early, you’re not sure how early, but you estimate it to be sometime after 6 am. 

“I won’t let them go!” The voice coming from the device in your hand brings you back to the here and now, blood rushing in your ears.

“Henry, hello, it’s good to hear your voice,” you say softly, looking over at one of the windows of the barn, wondering if he is watching you.

“I don’t- I won’t let them go,” he repeats and you lick your dried out lips.

“Okay, Henry. I hear what you’re saying, alright? You don’t want to let them go. Could you tell me why?”

“They need to pay for their sins!” It’s not hard to make out that he’s enraged, crying, but still hurt and confused. 

“What are their sins, Henry? Can you tell me?” You look over your shoulder at the rest of your team, Hyunwoo nodding at you and you nod back.

“You- you really want to know?” The shift in his voice tells you that your question had been exactly what he wanted to hear. 

“Yes, Henry. I want to know, I want to understand.”

There is silence on the other line for just a few moments. You remain calm and don’t ask again. It’s important you give him space, important for the hostages as well as to earn his trust. 

“They- they knew about my mum. My adoptive parents. I heard them say it. They knew why the police came to visit. It was because of her, because of mum. She was tortured by them, by the whole cult! And everyone who knew about it and didn’t do anything needs to be punished.” His voice is shaking as he speaks and you wonder if the hostages are in the room with him or if he has them hidden underneath the barn in one of the rooms you found last night.

“You’re doing this for your mum, Henry? You’re avenging her life?”

“Yes!”

“I understand. You did well, Henry. You hurt them the way they hurt you. They should have never taken your mother from you, Henry, that was wrong of them,” the words leaving your mouth aren’t what you’re actually thinking, but they will do the trick. Henry will trust you, he will listen to what you have to say.

“I- I did this for her. I wanted her to know I never gave up on her. B-but-,” he stops and you hear a sob, sure now that he is indeed crying. 

“But? You can talk to me Henry, I am here for you.” You bite your lip, hoping you’re not pressing the matter too far.

“B-but…,” Henry starts again, “but he- he betrayed me. He told me- he told me they were the only one’s at fault. He told me he wanted to avenge her too…”

He? You once again turn to your team, all of their faces in frowns. 

“Who is “he”, Henry?” 

No answer. Henry isn’t responding. You feel a slight panic arise inside of you. 

“Henry, it’s okay. You don’t need to tell me, okay? Just- tell me about you, about your mum. You must miss her dearly, right?” 

“My mum deserved better than what she got. She shouldn’t have killed herself, she should have fought through it! But she couldn’t. She was so scared of what they had done to her, what he had done to her! I wanted them all to suffer, wanted them all to know what it feels like losing someone they love. And I did that, I did that to him too!” He gets louder with every word. 

“Henry, you’re frustrations are valid. But, please, it is enough. You’ve showed them, you’ve hurt them. Enough people have died, Henry. Let your parents and Kelly go and you will be free.”

Henry is silent for a short while again.

“If he doesn’t respond, we’ll go in,” the S.W.A.T team’s leader is now saying to Hynwoo and latter holds up his hand, as if to signal to give it more time.

“Henry? Can you do that for me?” You ask again. Everyone is growing more and more uneasy, the more time passes. Your hands are sweaty and you feel like the rain isn’t the reason for why your clothes are damp again. Just when Hyunwoo is about to take his hand down, to let the special unit do their job - the doors of the barn open and Kelly runs out, the Travises right behind her. They all seem completely out of it but there are clear signs of relief on their faces. Seokmin and Stolper run towards them, helping them when they see, that Mr. Travis is limping and both women are spurting wounds on their face. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before pressing the button to talk again.

“Henry? Henry, are you there?” 

“My parents always loved me. They raised me when mum died. But they knew, you know. They knew! Which means, they need to suffer, too.” 

Your heart skips a beat when you throw the walkie-talkie to the side and run towards the barn, your team right behind you. You don’t think you’ve ever run as fast as you do right now. The air is tight around you and its rough to breathe. 

Henry is right there at the back of the barn, holding a gun to his head. You scream and Hyunwoo shoots forward to tackle him down - but it’s too late. The shot is heard but your eyes are closed, your knees growing weak but you stay standing. Henry is dead even before he hits the floor and there is nothing you can do. 

The hostages are free, so it counts as a win. The Manhattan Slasher is finally caught. He lays there, dead on the ground. He is getting carried away now, by two coroners who present you with a nod as you wait for Matthew and Jungwoo to come back upstairs. You hadn’t felt like you could go downstairs and see whatever Henry had left for you to find. 

You're sitting outside now, seeing Seokmin approach you, with a file in his hands. You look up at him, blinking against the rain. When he stands in front of you, it’s almost like the sun showed its face after all. He isn’t smiling, though. He just radiates this energy that immediately gets your spirits up.

“The judge,” he says, handing you the file, “it’s all in here. He was the one controlling Henry. Told him all those parents were the reason his mum suffered. And while it’s not all a lie - the judge himself was the actual perpetrator.”

With a slightly shaking hand, you reach for the file and open it, reading through what is evidence of Seokmin’s words. Now, this was something neither you nor your team has predicted. You swallow down a set of tears.

“He used Henry. But for what?”

“My guess is as good as yours, but, if I may try myself at your job: They probably got fed up with his shit. Told him they would rat him out to the police if he didn’t turn himself in for abusing that woman. He began killing their children as a way to keep them quiet. My guess is, that he has been keeping them quiet ever since Henry’s mum committed suicide and they all only recently began to wonder if maybe this was wrong.” 

Seokmin’s words reach your brain and they make sense as much as they don’t. You’ve been working this job long enough to know that there will never be something as full closure. People act irrationally all the time, do things no one understands. There is nothing you can do about it but wait it out, wait for the injustice to die down within you. In the end there is no point to try and understand people like this. Not that these parents deserved to have their daughters get killed. 

You thank Seokmin with a small nod and he sits down next to you. Next there will be the arrest of the judge. Then the parents will be questioned, and will get a punishment of their own because they didn’t stop the murders when they had the chance. You know they couldn’t because they were scared, but the law is clear. 

You feel Seokmin’s hand capturing yours and you look over at him. The business around the farm isn’t done yet. Boxes get carried and there is more forensic personnel than you’ve seen in a while, probably taking apart the basement you and Seokmin had found. It should be relief you’re feeling but right now you’re just tired. 

So, when Seokmin pulls you against him, arm around your waist, you don’t even try to stop yourself from laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. 

header by @wongyuseokie.

[haerni]

COULD’VE BEEN ──── 이희승 . the past is a blur, reality was harsher than it usually is. how deep does one could ever love a person?

. . genre : exes w lingering feelings · fem reader hurt comfort time motifs · word count : 1869 . notes . . im in love with heeseung lately </3

you love lee heeseung—you loved him, you did.

there was no denying it, he was an amazing boyfriend—perfect, even. your break up wasn't something you could call a bad ending, far from it. it was a mutual decision on both of you, it was something you both agreed on despite everything.

three years was all it took, three wonderful years of your life, three of it that you would come to treasure in the years to come. coming to terms of remaining as friends instead of strangers, your friends were even more bewildered. because really, who would still be friends with their ex? who would even want that?

“you still have feelings for him,” sunoo pointed out. “don’t deny it!” he shoots as quickly as you try to open your mouth with a quick retort with the high possibility of denying it, he surmised.

“i don’t have feelings for him, thank you very much.” you dismissed, getting back to what you were doing. “we’re really just friends now, acquaintances if you will.”

he narrows his eyes on you, not believing a word you say, but he lets it go with a puff shaking his head.

“you know what they say about exes staying friends. either you never loved each other at all, or you still have feelings—either way you’re not fooling me.” he says a matter of fact, helping himself in your fridge taking the mint chocolate.

you find your friend’s deduction to be ridiculous.

sometimes you catch yourself thinking of how he's doing. is he eating well? still staying up late until dawn because of his games? winning his league games? a small smile makes its way to your face at the same memories you share, somehow a bittersweet taste comes with it, yet it's still tucked away somewhere where your other moments lie, shaking your head away from it as quickly as it came. letting the thought simmer away to the backs of your mind.

lee heeseung was a fond memory you keep, but nonetheless he was just a memory still.

love was something you held for lee heeseung before, you don't really know what to call it now. maybe you wouldn't love someone for a long time as you have loved lee heeseung.

after all, what you knew as your greatest love was too great to be forgotten at all.

—

love was bound to find its way to you again, heeseung thinks.

you were like a force of nature that comes like you belong to everything, to every good little thing heeseung can ever name of. like everything was made to be the way it is just for you

—and somehow he also used to believe he was also made just for you.

that was before the fallout. now he believes that maybe after pining over you for many years and being your friend just the same, maybe this was where he should've always been. not to hold you like lovers do, not to kiss you as much as a friendship does not require, and definitely not to have you in any way that would be deemed more than what relationship you had returned to.

just friends. nothing more, nothing less.

it's useless, though. the glass in his hands is cold. misery was rather more of a warm company to heeseung, too familiar even. the lights at the bar were dimmed down adding more somber to the mood, and it is like the universe is playing some sort of twisted tricks on him. just to remind how hollow it is, how the world was actually big, it's too cold—it's lonely.

everything was becoming too much and not enough all the same.

drinking was never a good idea, it never was for heeseung. you'd always tell him that he gets so lost in it that he forgets just how many he downs and it leaves him away into the night with a smile and fits of giggles that are contagious and slurred words that he always tries to utter.

it's stupid, he was stupid.

but atleast he had you then, the one who would take care of him if he has one of too many or maybe crawl up into his lap when he's gaming away into the night and you'd just do it because you'd rather have his warmth near you than settle with the thought of having him in the same room. or times when you would just run up to him and like it's engraved in his veins to have you in his arms and hold you like forever was never enough of a time to describe how much he wants you. forever was too less of a time, a life with you would be more and to those other lives he will get to have you seems more promising.

forever is too much of a word for lee heeseung. if your lives were to part, may he always find you in the next and the comings. for him to never take another heart that does not belong to you. may lee heeseung love you to every time, to be born in the same universe as you, the same time, the same place.

three lifetimes, three wonderful lives you both had, and he thinks it is simply not enough.

he begs the heavens to let him be made just for you once more. because forever in one, will never be something to call what you have.

eternity suits you better, he thinks.

—

the night strolls, the stars are twinkling with the hopes of catching an eye.

this night feels a little more dreadful than the last. the drink he had down a few minutes ago keeps him warm in the night, setting itself in his stomach. heeseung has spent away the after hours this way, a routine that has eaten him alive to its core. it's not an ideal lifestyle, but he continues anyway.

he strolls without a place in mind, after all he has lost home once and wherever you are, his heart resides.

you are everything that heeseung has prayed for.

as familiar buildings meet his eyes and it brings back some memories he had kept away. treacherous. suddenly he finds himself in your street, a few blocks away from where you are. he can knock, he can ask you, he can stay, but he was a stranger altogether. so, the best thing heeseung takes rather than doing all of those things? was to sober up and leave.

mortality has never been kind to him. and everything he has kept in his heart was torn from its home and never to be returned like the sands that slithers away from the storm.

and he had begged at everything that would hear him. because the sand had gone out of the hourglass too soon than what he had always hoped for. time has never been his friend, after all, what time would be fond of something going against it? fate was too cruel to you. but you had embraced it just the same.

how could he ever subject you to the same fate once more? a string tied to you or not, he would rather see you with the colors of life.

and as if this time—for once, mercy has taken pity on him. because as his heel turns he hears the front door of your home, and he shouldn't look, he shouldn't stop, he should go. but you're just still you, right? the always loveable you.

“heeseung?”

oh how he has missed your voice.

against his very judgement he turns around.

there you are by the porch of your home wrapped in a blanket protecting you from the chills of the night and you seem comfortable, you always are. he stops just as his mind tells him the opposite (how could lee heeseung ever say no to your very being?).

and he couldn't stop—heeseung has loved you for a very long time and it feels like it's the only language he can speak to answer your call.

you descend down on your stairs, with a small shy walk on your feet towards him. he feels dizzy, have you always been this pretty?

he tries to say something, anything, but you seem to knock the air out of his chest every time, he releases a breath he's been holding, “hey.”

if you knew better you think heeseung seemed to be full of life when he is with you, like a flower who basks in the sun. you don't know what to say to him, is there any words to describe whatever you were feeling? he knew everything about you, he read you like a diary he has memorized all his life, when words fail you, heeseung comes to answer it.

you couldn't really remember now why you broke up, too many talks, too many faults, too many problems that pile up as time wanes. but you missed him, you miss him too much now to remember why.

“it’s cold,” he begins. its obvious, but what could he possibly tell you?

it's weird now, his eyes are still the same and yet you find yourself wanting it just the same, “yeah, it is.”

silence passes you, it's not uncomfortable, it's not heavy—you're relieved.

“i should probably go.” he should, but is it a sin to say you want him to stay? you pursed your lips in contempt, you should say something.

heeseung may claim to be someone who keeps his words, but right now his feet feel heavy, like his anchored to where he stands—in front of you. he waits for you to utter anything to him, a small hope of you stopping him. to make it feel it was okay to want you like this, to be in your presence.

the silence beckoned you to speak before you can even think of it. “it’s already late..” it's embarrassing, almost as if you were too left open in his eyes again, “..you can stay, if you'd like.”

a second clock and a pin drop, heeseung adorned a soft smile on his lips and as if he was on the same wavelength as you he utters words he thought he couldn't ever tell you, “i missed you.”

“i know,” and it's not obnoxious, it's a truth that you know well, its a fact that you know deep in your bones, “i missed you too.”

and everything was happening in the blink of an eye, his arms are around you and he breathes your scent in. despite the blanket around you, his warmth burns more and you love it—some things just never change.

lee heeseung will never meet what could’ve been, would’ve been, what should’ve been you in that lifeline. your first life together would always be a mystery to the both of you. he misses you, more than he remembers.

he hopes he doesn't lose you again.

“i’ve got a lot to pine about. i’ve got a lot to live without. so rest well, hm? we’ll see each other again.”

—excerpt from (1500’s), A Hundred Years And A Lifetime, letters of Evan Lee to his wife by a Nameless Laureate poet.

[tkaulitzlvr]

Hii! Could you please maybe do one of where the reader and Tom are like on a break from each other, and the reader and him end up being at the same party and he gets all touchy with this girl and the reader gets jealous and she ends up making out with this guy out in the crowd and Tom sees and gets jealous and ends up beating the guy up and the reader and him get into a heated argument in the car on the way to his place and he ends up doing yk as soon as they get there but in a angry way 👀

(sry Im really bad at explaining. And if you cant do it I totally understand, plus your writing is AMAZING, like seriously I appreciate all the time and effort you put into your writing I could never 😭)

BELONG TO YOU - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you and tom had decided to take a break from your relationship a few weeks back, and you hadn’t seen him until now, at some random party, flirting with another girl. you want payback, but tom notices straight away, acting on his jealousy.

content: angst & smut

a/n: this is such a good idea omgg these types of fics are my fav to read and write. this took me three days omg i made this like unnecessarily long & detailed sorry about that.😭 thank you so much for the request and ur kind words anon!! 💞 also this clip is so hot like hello rail me pls.

my eyes burn into his figure from across the room, fingers clutching the plastic cup in my hand so hard that the material begins to crumple, though i don’t care. i am far too immersed in the interaction taking place in front of my eyes, watching the way he places a hand on her thigh, whispering things into her ear with that same playful smirk i had seen too many times, completely oblivious to the fact that i am here, seething with rage at the sight. god knows how long i had been watching the pair for, time had seemed to stop altogether the second my eyes landed on him, all i know is that i am getting closer and closer to losing my sanity.

it didn’t matter that i was a considerable distance away. i noticed everything - the way his tongue poked out of his mouth and repeatedly brushed against his lip piercing, the lingering touches which, though failing to reach the cleavage spilling out of her tight dress, were pretty close to getting there - too close. not that it matters too much that his hands hadn’t reached the most intimate parts yet: his eyes were already doing the work for him, staring so intently at her overtly prominent chest that he should’ve made physical contact with them and put me out of my misery, tearing away the only remnant of hope i had left - hope that he wouldn’t stoop so low and give himself to the first girl that he saw.

though i know that my expectations are way too high for someone like tom. he hadn’t cheated whilst we were in the relationship, but outside of it, he couldn’t help himself. and, even though we hadn’t actually broken up, ‘giving each other some space’ as he called it, it seems that his morals haven’t at all changed, and i am the last thing on his mind - my chest heaving up and down in utter rage as his hand travels suggestively further and further upwards, fingers dipping underneath her dress slightly. that was it. admittedly tipsy, i strut toward him, stopping just a few feet away from him, now in front of a semi-attractive guy who seems to avert his gaze to me almost instantly. i don’t even have to look in tom’s direction to know that he has spotted me, i can feel his eyes on me, burning intently into my figure.

indirectly aiming to maintain tom’s attention as i soak it all in, i go that extra step further, whispering a small ‘hi’ in the boy’s ear, making sure to flutter my eyelashes, noticing the way a subtle smirk etches upon his soft lips. my hands trail aimlessly up and down his chest, his own slipping to rest comfortably against my lower back, the words ‘you’re cute’ falling from my lips, smooth as silk. it didn���t matter if i meant them or not, i am not looking for a conversation, and i think he knows that too, our intentions pretty much mutual. tom doesn’t have to know that though.

all he has to know is that two can play at whatever game he thinks he has started. though the second he spotted me with whoever had his hands roaming my body, he had stopped playing, no longer finding the small blonde beside him as interesting as he did five minutes ago. i am more than willing to carry it on, messily colliding my lips with the stranger’s, the kiss sloppy and heated - everything that i want it to be. my tongue finds its way inside his mouth, deepening the kiss even more, my hand moving to the back of his neck, fingers raking through his soft brunette curls. his own hands travel further downwards, cupping my ass and using it to bring our bodies closer together, the kiss soon becoming more heated than it was before, fuelled by the alcohol in my system and the jealousy i felt, somehow trading it all in for intense anger, eager for tom to feel the way i had just a few moments ago.

‘you wanna get out of here gorgeous?’

his voice is low as it vibrates through my lips, his words slightly muffled, thanks to both the almost deafening music reverberating through my ears, and the close proximity between us. knowing that i wouldn’t think of doing anything more with this guy, i still nod my head slowly, purely to intensify tom’s jealousy, sensing his presence slightly closer than it was before, somehow easily identifiable through the crowd.

the guy smiles against my lips, kissing me roughly once again, though this one is much shorter than the last - not because either of us want it to be. he is harshly pushed away from me, my eyes opening in a mix of confusion and shock, frantically scanning the room for any clue on what had just happened, the answer becoming crystal clear as i spot tom inches away from him, hands balled into fists against the stranger’s chest.

a small crowd begins to accumulate, my hands pushing through desperately, scrambling my way to the front, the entire thing escalating impossibly fast, tom’s fist colliding with the boy’s cheek with such force he stumbles backward, body slamming against the wall harshly. but that isn’t enough for tom. he continues to land strong punches to his face, the guy finding some strength to fight back, though they are completely pointless, having little effect on tom. after a few harsh blows, the boy is defenceless, lip swollen with blood trickling just below it, a large red mark printed across his cheek.

my fast steps make their way over to tom, who is clearly just as angry as he was before he had beat the shit out of that poor guy, his cold expression failing to waver even when i grab his shoulder, turning him to face me in one swift motion.

“what the fuck? have you lost your fucking mind?” i shout over the loud music, noticing that the people seeking entertainment from the ordeal had returned back to their own company, all immersed in random conversations, or making out with someone they had never met before - not that i was in any position to judge, i had done the exact same thing moments ago.

“have you?” he shoots back, voice a level louder than mine, oozing with rage, carrying thousands of harsh words yet to be spoken.

“take a look at the guy with the fucked up face thanks to you, then think about asking me that question again! what the fuck is wrong with you?” i question, eyebrows knitting together, wondering how he can dare to turn this on me, ignoring the fact that he has just left someone with a bloody nose, seemingly unfazed by it. his eyes scan mine, narrowed slightly, a few wrinkles lining along his forehead as he does so. i hadn’t seen those eyes in so long and, despite the indisputable fury within them, it is impossible to deny how much i had missed them, regardless of the circumstances.

“we aren’t doing this here, not in front of this crowd.” he shakes his head forcefully, grabbing my hand and attempting to lead me away from it all, my body hesitant to do so.

“why? i’m not leaving.” i state confidently. he tilts his head to the side, mouth falling open slightly, his eyes squeezing shut as he appears to be in a fight with his own mind, clearly contemplating something, the decision seemingly difficult to make.

“well i am.” he replies, shaking his head slowly, turning around to walk away.

“what the fuck? are you serious?” i ramble, chasing after him shamelessly, not yet aware of how humiliating it is that he has me wrapped around his finger. my hands clutch at his jacket, wrapping firmly around the material as i pull him backwards, just before his hand reaches to clasp the door handle.

“you don’t seem to care about us anymore.” he shrugs, expression fixed, though despite the hostility it shows upfront, i can sense the sadness behind it. “so why the fuck should i?”

he shakes his head at my silence, looking for something, anything, that hints to a response, no matter how small and totally ridiculous. i stay quiet, in total disbelief of his ability to manipulate this whole situation, somehow attempting to put me at fault, as if he hadn’t had his hands all over that girl. he doesn’t seem to care about his own mistakes, focusing purely on my actions, choosing to act as a saint despite knowing deep down he is far from being one. it is this realisation that prompts him to turn around once again, his back to me as he tugs the door open, walking through it without looking back. yet i refuse to let it end like that, hurriedly following him, not considering the consequences.

“what are you talking about? seriously, instead of being such a pussy and walking away, fucking talk to me!” i demand as he momentarily stops in his tracks, eyes glued on my own, his jaw clenched. i no longer need to raise my voice, the music drowning itself out, but that doesn’t stop me, the volume of my words far louder than they need to be.

he reaches his car, hands moving into the pocket of his baggy jeans as they scramble for his keys, pulling them out without a word, though i still have plenty to say. “i’m talking to you!”

finally, he turns to face me, expression still harsh; not giving away anything that he truly wants to say. for some strange reason, he seems to hold back, restraining his mouth from acting out ahead of his mind, this unexpected, especially considering just minutes ago he hadn’t restricted himself from making particularly rash decisions, the smear of blood on his knuckle concrete proof of this.

“what, are you deaf, hm? my words not registering up there? i’m speaking to you, answer me!” i know exactly what buttons to press, exactly how to make him crack, and, once again, i do so with some success. he briefly hesitates, letting out a heavy sigh, seemingly reaching his breaking point as his mouth opens, ready to pour out the thousands of emotions he has kept in thus far.

“some fucking break this is.” he mutters, shaking his head slowly, his hand clutching the car keys with such strength his knuckles begin to turn white. “i say that we need some space and then catch you with some random guy’s tongue down your fucking throat. really seems like you missed me.”

not waiting for me to respond, he opens the car door, climbing into the driver’s seat hurriedly. i don’t know what compels me to follow him, perhaps it is my desire to find answers, possibly i am eager to continue this argument, or maybe i just missed him: his voice, his presence, everything about him somehow being exactly what i need. whatever it is, i am far too lost within him to care, my body acting ahead of my mind as i enter the passenger side, tom’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion. he doesn’t object though, clearly needing me as much as i do him, a brief look of relief taking over his expression, silently wishing that i would give in since the argument began despite his initial standoffish-ness, thankful that i have.

“don’t act like you’re all fucking innocent! the only reason i did all that was because i saw you with that slut! you clearly don’t love me anymore, not with the way you looked at her!” each word pierces him right in the chest, the daunting realisation of what he has done hitting him faster than ever. but it is the confession that i think his love for me has diminished that strikes him the most, his face softening when i utter those words. despite this, his voice is still harsh, volume meeting my own.

“don’t be ridiculous. you know she meant nothing.” he states, this apparently sufficient reassurance for his actions, the car silent for a moment as he starts it, hands on the steering wheel. i don’t know where he is going, far too frustrated to even care, wanting nothing more than to carry on this argument, in no position to let him off the hook.

“do i?” i scoff, face harshly turning to him. “i don’t see you for two weeks, and when i do, your hands are all up on some girl. the fuck am i supposed to do with that?”

his hands forcefully clutching the wheel, jaw clenched as he looks ahead, i know that he hears every word i say, processing them with ease, yet he stays quiet for a second, an uncomfortable silence in place of the harshness of my utterance, making the words ten times harder to digest. he knows that i am right, that it would be hypocritical for him to be mad at me right now, but that doesn’t stop him from being angry. in fact, his stubbornness only increases despite the realisation that he is just as guilty as i am, if not more.

“what was i supposed to do, hm? i didn’t have you, i just-” he trails off, a heavy sigh leaving his parted lips, head moving backwards to rest against the back of the seat, one hand coming upward to rest on the bridge of his nose. though the hesitation suggests otherwise, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to utter the phrase, perhaps out of shame, or reluctance to admit how he truly feels. whatever it is that holds him back, i am no longer interested in his skepticism, wanting clear answers, not the mixed signals that i am receiving.

“what? you just what? stop being so fucking weird and just talk.” i order, turning in his direction, eyes burning into his features regardless of his hesitance to do so, strangely scared to look in my eyes.

“fuck…” he begins, exhaling shakily, almost preparing himself for the effect that his words are bound to have. “i missed you, okay? i missed you, and i didn’t know what else to fucking do.”

“don’t be stupid. i know that’s bullshit, and so do you. be honest with me, have you fucked someone else? since we went on whatever you want to call this weird distance between us.” i know that i shouldn’t have asked such a stupid question, the answer bound to disappoint me. for some strange reason, i want to hear him say the words, to make me realise that i’m not as important to him as i thought, that in reality, he can find someone prettier within a heartbeat. because the false hope that i continue to hold onto doesn’t seem to fade, even after watching him with his hands all over another girl.

“of course i fucking haven’t.” he scoffs, shaking his head as his face twists in anger, shocked that i would even ask such a question, the thought completely unheard of, apparently. “what, you really think i care that little? your expectations of me really that low?”

“you expect them to be high after i see you acting like that with her? you’re unbelievable.” i state, briefly looking over at him, his eyes fixated on the road, though i notice the quick glances he throws my way, assessing my expression, not giving the impression that he is going to apologise anytime soon.

“you know what? pull over, this was a mistake. we should’ve just stayed away from each other.” i say, turning to look at him, my hand moving to the door handle, desperate to get out of the situation, soon realising that we are never going to come to a solution, instead the back and fourth of our arguing will only continue until it becomes out of hand, unless i put a stop to it now.

he refuses to stop, the pressure his foot applies to the gas only seeming to increase, the speed of the car getting faster, making it pretty clear that he doesn’t plan on letting me leave.

“i’m not letting you go, not when it’s this dark out. you should know that i care about you too much to do that. i want to talk about this.” he replies, his voice assertive yet calm, the desperation behind it more evident than ever. the surroundings soon become familiar, having travelled along this road thousands of times, it would be impossible to not recognise it. countless times i had seen the same houses, same trees, same buildings either side of the road, each small detail reminding me of how much i had become used to this area, able to distinguish it much easier than i realise. the familiar house comes into view, it’s four walls holding more memories than any place i had ever been. thousands of nights of passion, mornings of lazy affection, afternoons spent simply enjoying each other’s company spent here, each one unforgettable - to me, at least.

but the comfort it brings me isn’t enough to make me forget about the situation, instead it makes me resent it even more. “why am i here? you want to ridicule me even more, yell at me for kissing that guy some more, rub it in my face that you had your hands on her-”

“you’re here because i want to you be. please can we talk about this? instead of being so fucking stubborn, just let me talk, for once.” he interrupts, confessing his feelings as they spill freely from his lips, eyes finally brave enough to look into my own.

“why should i?” i scoff, stepping out of the car as he does the same, hurriedly catching up to me, my steps towards the front door heavy and fast. his hands fumble with the keys, swiftly unlocking the door and opening it for me to step inside, all whilst i continue to ramble on, a mix of upset and anger sounding from my lips. “you have your hands all over her, and when i do the same thing, you don’t like it? and then you say you did it because you miss me? you’re the most frustrating person i’ve ever met, you know that? nothing is ever simple with you. you mess with my fucking head, and you don’t even care! why? why do you have to make me so-”

as much as i want to continue the sudden burst of rage, eager to show tom the frustration i feel right now, my words are abruptly cut off by a soft pair of lips, the harshness of them mirroring the venom within my tone, silencing my rushed speech in a way too tempting for me to dream of refusing. without thinking, i quickly kiss back, soon reflecting the hunger that tom displays as his lips move against mine, hands moving to my waist to pull me closer, my own behind his neck, his black braids tangled between my fingers.

��you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he breathes out between kisses, my mind too lost within the moment to even respond, his words barely registering. “so stubborn, but fuck, i need you, can’t live without you...”

i moan against his lips in response, deciding that actions speak far louder than words, channeling all the built up frustration into the kiss, parting my lips to allow his tongue to slip inside my mouth, my own entering his. the process of his arms hoisting me upwards, legs wrapping around his torso roughly and walking sloppily into the living room, our lips never parting is all a blur, my back ending up flat against the couch, tom’s body situated in between my legs, hovering over me. it didn’t matter that five minutes ago i could’ve punched his face. truthfully, i could do the same right now. however i decide to exercise my anger in the most pleasurable way possible, figuring that if he is trying to apologise, this is a pretty damn good way of earning my forgiveness - the silent promise of feeling him inside me meaning i’d probably accept whatever half-hearted attempt he put together to make amends, if it meant that we could get to the point faster.

my hair is disheveled, lipstick smudged, traces of the deep red now present on tom’s lips, proving just how desperate the both of us are - whether i am willing to admit it or not. his hand travels upwards, fingers grazing the soft skin covered by my hair, eventually making contact with the zipper of my dress and carefully tugging it downwards, despite his kisses being anything but. it is so wrong, knowing that he has entertained someone else not even an hour ago and he is touching me now, but it feels so right, against all of my morals, every part of me willing to make my body his and his only. my mind silently thanks whatever higher presence up there for gracing me with tom, though the things that we are doing forbid us from ever reaching heaven, not that it matters, because the feeling of his lips against mine is pretty damn close to it.

“fuck- i love you so much baby, so much…” he trails off, pulling away momentarily to allow his hands to take my dress, sliding the material down my body, exposing it all inch by inch until the soft cotton is bunched at my knees. his lips are curved into a small smirk, so subtle it is almost unnoticeable, though once his eyes flick between my face and now bare figure, i know that it is real - his being in some sort of trance as it rests above me, giving away his silent admiration. eyes twinkling as they take in my curves, perfectly defined, adorned with smooth skin, begging to be touched by his calloused hands which now reach outwards from his sides, giving into the temptation.

he is careful, despite the look on his face suggesting that he wants to be everything but. he desperately tries to hold on to the gentleness, hesitant to spoil moment of passionate bliss that resumes as his hands continue to run along my stomach, moving further and further upward. but deep down, he wants to ruin me, to give up the sweet act that he is putting on, and i want it just as bad - each second that he continues to be tender, his actions restricted and mild, slowly tortures me.

“why are you holding back?” i breathe out, eyes locked on his hands as they finally make contact with my breasts, moulding the flesh into his palms. i can sense the way he pauses slightly, refraining from applying any pressure, instead maintaining his steady movements, gaze locked on my breasts as he drinks in the view, mesmerised by the sight as if he hadn’t seen it a hundred times over.

“we don’t have to rush, i want to be gentle-” he speaks, voice slow and soft, though i have passed the point of caring about taking our time, the concept of it long gone. because i could spend an eternity like this, completely connected with him, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“be gentle tomorrow.” i interrupt him, eyes flickering to his lips, wanting nothing more than to feel them against my own once again, tired of his accidental teasing.

his eyes meet my own, the lust within them taking over, my words barely considered as he acknowledges them immediately, capturing my lips in a kiss. it is rough, lacking that hesitance he showed moments ago, because now he has my permission, he no longer cares about being gentle, able to act out on his desires the way he needs to.

with a simple tug, he takes down his jeans, discarding the denim somewhere on the floor, far too focused on my exposed body in front of him to care where. if his demeanour didn’t give away his desperation, the bulge in his boxers said enough, his length brushing against my leg through the material as his head dips downward once again, reconnecting our lips in another heated kiss. i shift my hips slightly, mouth falling open once his dick brushes against my clit through my panties, the sensation, though only slight, enough to restrain my ability to kiss back.

he quickly senses this, hands moving to my panties, fingers hooking under the material, slowly raking them downwards, letting the lace pool at my feet. his arms lift upwards once my fingers make contact with the hem of his t-shirt, making it easier for me to remove the heavy fabric. i sit upwards, face inches away from his own, lips ghosting over each other’s whilst i pull the t-shirt upwards and over his head, releasing it onto the floor.

within seconds, his boxers are lost somewhere on the floor, joining the piles of clothes scattered around the room. his dick presses against his lower abdomen, the sight only making the aching between my thighs intensify, just about ready to get on my knees and beg, if he doesn’t put me out of my misery in the next few seconds.

and he does - just not in the way that i want him to. instead, his lips move downward at an agonisingly slow pace, eyes never leaving my own, even when he begins to place open-mouthed kisses along my stomach, his teeth grazing over the skin ever so slightly, though the sensation is enough for small whines to leave my lips, hands reaching for his head, fingers running over the rough bumps of his braids.

“shit- you’re so beautiful, so pretty schatz…” he praises between kisses, hands coming upward to pry my legs apart as they instinctively clench together at the pleasure. if it weren’t for his body in between them, they probably would’ve closed completely, not that tom would ever complain about being in such a position - especially not now when he had been without it for so long.

“please…” i whine, back arching slightly off of the couch, his teasing movements no longer enough. i need one thing, and he knows exactly what that is, his desires mirroring my own.

“shhhh. i know baby, i know.” he coos, head finally moving from my stomach as his whole body shifts upward, his forehead now resting against my own, lips placing small kisses all over my face, attempting to distract me from the feeling of his tip aligning with my entrance. he is foolish to think that anything could divert my attention from this sensation - i have been waiting for it for so long that it is the only thing on my mind, mouth falling open once it finally becomes a reality.

his lips curve into a smug smile at my reaction, watching the way my face contorts when he pushes inside of me, his length stretching out my walls as they clench around him. my mind is hazy, tuning out everything else around me, nothing else seeming to matter once i have gotten what i want. sure, thirty minutes ago i resented him, wanting nothing more than to hurl words of irritation at him until my throat turned hoarse, but it seems that i’ll be reaching the same conclusion anyways - the way his cock slowly thrusts in and out of me eliciting moans from me that are bound to leave my vocal chords sore. this doesn’t stop me from vocalising my pleasure though, inaudible whines not far from screams leaving my parted lips once he speeds up his pace a little.

“that’s it baby, let me hear those pretty sounds. show me how much you missed me, mhm?” he grunts, his own mouth hanging open a little as his hips continue to grind against my own, knowing exactly how to move, paying close attention to when my noises would become particularly loud, angling himself to elicit those same sounds from my lips, eyes squeezing shut whenever i do so.

somehow he hadn’t reprimanded me for when i would squirm a little, back arching ever so slightly, legs closing tighter and tighter around him. instead, his eyebrows would furrow when i do so, my movements drawing him deeper inside of me, so deep that i swear i can feel him in my stomach. even if he had scolded me, reminding me to be good, to behave myself as this is what i wanted, he knows that his words won’t stop me from acting out, especially when i know he is too lost in his own pleasure to even consider halting his movements - my climax guaranteed regardless of how much i irritate him so, why not misbehave a little?

“fuck- stay still.” he finally orders once i squeeze my legs around his waist one too many times, my hips lifting instinctively from the couch. his hands firmly place them downwards, fingers digging into the skin ever so slightly, providing just the right amount of pain to make me go close to insane, a moaning mess beneath him. he starts to circle his hips swiftly, his dick moving in and out of me at a different angle, and god, that’s all it takes. that is all i need for my mouth to fall open in a silent scream, quickly acknowledging that his tip no longer brushes weakly against that sensitive spot inside me, it hits the flesh directly.

if i had the ability to speak, i would be encouraging, no, begging him to carry on, to keep his movements going, his cock hitting every spot inside of me that causes me to moan that little bit louder, legs to squeeze around him just a little tighter. but he is perfectly aware of the effect he has on me, knowing the reaction that he elicits out of me is one of unmatched bliss, so he keeps going, much to my relief. through the small part of my vision that isn’t overtaken by the tears that soon begin to cover my eyes, i study tom’s face, his expression causing the already prominent knot in my stomach to tighten even further.

if the pleasure he brings me isn’t enough, the evidence of his own tips me over the edge - his eyebrows knitted together, sweat lining his forehead as he moves in and out of me, mouth open with his tongue occasionally swiping across his bottom lip. he stays relatively quiet, though i know exactly how to elicit small sounds out of him, noticing the way deep groans sound from the back of his throat when i clench around him, almost inaudible words of encouragement that follow his moans prompting me to repeat my actions, noticing the way he twitches inside me as i do so.

“gonna cum, c’mon baby, cum with me.” he prompts, bending downwards to plant quick kisses onto my lips, his thrusts now slow and deep, pushing me over the edge as i manage to nod my head, hands reaching to clutch his biceps. my nails dig into the skin once i feel his hot cum shoot inside of me, an elongated ‘ohhhh’ leaving his lips as he throws his head backward, hips lazily rocking back and forth at an irregular pace, one final thrust being all it takes for the knot in my stomach to quickly unravel.

my eyes squeeze shut, mouth falling open as a high-pitched moan escapes it, back lifting upward off of the couch once his pointer finger reaches to make contact with my clit, rubbing slow circles over it as my release washes over me. he continues to move in and out of me, fucking his seed further into me, his heavy breathing sounding through the silent room. he collapses on top of me, not bothering to pull out just yet, instead using the little energy he has left to softly run his fingers up and down my arm in an attempt to slow my rapid breathing, taking notice of the way my entire body trembles slightly.

“you okay schatz?” he mutters, his low voice vibrating against my bare skin, lips inches away from my breasts as his head rests in between them, placing a lazy kiss there. i mutter a small ‘mhm’, noticing the strain that the small utterance places on my throat, silently cursing myself for being so vocal, though deep down i know that i don’t really regret it, the sex warranting every sound i let spill from my lips.

“you still angry?” he asks, the soft smile that graces upon his lips telling me that he knows the answer to his question before i even open my mouth. he chuckles lowly, squeezing my waist and moving closer, intertwining our legs together, our bodies tangled as we lay on the couch.

“depends if you plan on touching someone like you did that girl again.” i shrug, honestly still a little frustrated at what i had witnessed, the thought making me seethe with jealousy. even after i had tom inside of me just moments ago, the small amount of satisfaction it brings me isn’t enough, wishing that i could somehow go back in time and stop the entire thing from ever happening, realising that my life would be better without knowing he had entertained someone else, even for a few minutes.

“what girl?” he grins, beginning to place sloppy kisses on my neck, hands running up and down my waist. he knows exactly what i am talking about, continuing to sweet talk me, all whilst his lips continue to work against my neck, tongue running soothingly over the skin after his teeth nip against it. “the only girl i want to touch is you, baby.”

“you know what girl.” i breathe out, trying to continue the conversation, my head tilting backwards to give him more access, failing miserably to maintain my composure as his kisses hold me under his trance, getting me just as worked up as i had been ten minutes ago, before he had pleasured me.

“hmm, i don’t care about her.” he mutters against me, his voice vibrating above my chest, sending chills through my body, the feeling soon soothed when he moves on top of me once again, trailing the suggestive kisses lower and lower, hovering just above my breasts. his eyes are half-lidded, filled with tired lust as they peer innocently at me, the intent behind them crystal clear as they darken just before his mouth opens, his voice low. “why would i? just want you beautiful. need you all to myself…”

tired moans leave his lips as they continue to work against me, leaving no part untouched, his kisses becoming slow and sloppy. though he doesn’t show any intention of stopping, muttering small compliments in between kisses. ‘so beautiful.’ he mumbles, taking the skin between my breasts and slowly sucking on it, teeth digging in momentarily, soon pulling away once he is satisfied with the small bruise left in place of his soft lips. ‘love you so much.’ he whispers just before his tongue swipes over an existing mark, head tilting to the side to press open-mouthed kisses just below it. “shit- so fucking perfect.’ he mutters, lips hovering above my breast for a few seconds, breath fanning over it, watching the way my chest falls up and down, anticipating his touch. ‘meine schatz, all yours.’ he murmurs, taking my nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, his free hand kneading the flesh of my thigh, slowly continuing to work against me, noticing the way my whines become lazy and restricted.

he looks upward briefly, my own eyes on the verge of closing, completely exhausted, entire body aching as it manages to calm down, no longer trembling the way it was moments ago. his hands reach upwards, fingers threading through my hair, removing any knots within it. his own eyes struggle to stay open, yet he forces them to, holding back on falling asleep until he knows that i have, instead resuming his fingers’ slow movements through my hair, paying close attention to my breathing pattern, humming in satisfaction once it becomes slow and shallow, signalling that i have finally let exhaustion take over. even when he falls asleep, he refuses to reduce his hold on me, bodies tangled together as we are finally at peace, belonging to each other once again.

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[noxiatoxia]

I don't know if this is common knowledge, but Komaeda's talent in Japanese is not "Ultimate Lucky Student". It is "Ultimate Good Fortune" (or good luck).

I know the word "lucky" has connotations with being good luck, but "luck" itself seems neutral to me at least.

I think the fact Komaeda is praised for, and has his talent be centered on, his good fortune is a very important nuance. People only see the good that happens to him. People keep telling him what happens to him is "good luck". His parents dying and getting kidnapped end up being called "good luck" in the end. I think this reinforces his pattern of thought more than people just saying he has extraordinary luck (good and bad). It's a minor difference, but it adds a lot. I have been thinking about this for a little bit now.

Because of the fact it is good luck specifically, I wanted to find parts where Komaeda specifically talks about bad luck. Lines such as "my awful luck/dreadful luck..." doesn't make much sense in the context of his Japanese talent. It made me wonder if those English lines even existed or if it was a "Luke, I am your father" situation. I don't have either the English or Japanese script memorized.

I checked the Freetime Events because of this, and found an interesting thing. There's a number of mistranslations, or simply translation choices I don't really agree with.

The freetime events heavily misrepresent how often Komaeda uses the word "luck". He uses both 不幸 and 不運 an equal amount I'd say. Maybe the former more. The former means "misery" "sorrow" or "misfortune". The latter means "bad luck" or "ill-fortune".

Likewise, 幸運 means good luck, but it also means good fortune. It's the word used in his talent as I described above.

Now, that's not to say I think Komaeda's "talent" should not be referred to as luck, nor am I saying he should never use the word luck. I think good and bad luck is a perfectly apt English word to describe his experiences. I just think the English translation overuses it. It wouldn't have killed them to make him say "isn't that just awful" or "what a tragedy, right?" instead of "isn't that such bad luck?" every conceivable moment. Maybe I'm just nit picky.

Now, onto the free time events. I want to talk about them.

I'll be talking about them in order as they appear. Also, I am only going to talk about the 3rd event onward, after Komaeda's chapter 1 reveal.

Freetime event 3

A minor nitpick, but "friends" is not the word I'd use here. It's true you can translate it that way, but considering everything else about Komaeda, at this point in the game, he wouldn't readily call Hinata his friend. Especially considering the connotations that holds for him.

That's precisely likely why he, in fact, doesn't say "friend" in the Japanese text. He uses 仲間 which like I said, while can and does translate as friend when used in that way, it just means people of a common thread. Like, a group, I guess.

My TL:

Because we both share the common goal of seeking out hope!

Freetime event 4

This is a really bad translation IMO. Hope is never said once in the original dialogue. I don't know why they put it there.

My TL:

Hinata: It's pretty ironic that you got wrapped up in this shitshow considering your "Ultimate Good Luck". Komaeda: It's not ironic at all! This is no doubt just the beginning of the good things to come my way! Komaeda: Um, let's just say the "good luck" I was born with is a little less straightforward [than the name would suggest]... Komaeda: once this is all over, I'll be rewarded with good fortune of the highest caliber.

And though this next one isn't much of a "mistranslation", I want to offer an alternative translation that highlights my criticism of "overusing the words good/bad luck".

My TL:

Komaeda: The greater the misfortune I experience before hand...the greater the good that comes my way afterwards! It completely cancels out everything before it!

Freetime event 5

I sadly cannot find in-game pictures of this since it's one of the wrong dialogue choices, so here's the script file text for it instead (sorry)

I remembered this line in English specifically because I always thought it sounded weird for Komaeda to say - "It's rare to hear you give such a half-assed answer".

While not a mistranslation totally, I think the tone is a bit off.

I would write it more as, "Ah ha ha! That's quite the answer, Hinata-kun!"

It literally translates as "for Hinata-kun, that is a very suitable answer!" but it's clearly supposed to be teasing/sarcastic. So he means to say "oh, wow, Hinata-kun, you're answering with that?" but in a lighthearted tone.

Freetime event 6

Almost didn't include this because it's the mistranslation we all know and hate, but it's worth mentioning in case people don't know.

My TL:

Please, just one last thing...don't ever forget...that from the bottom of my heart, I love y...I love your hope that sleep dormant inside you.

Though he does just say "please, don't forget", he uses どうか which is a pretty polite turn of phrase for Komaeda. It also is a way to emphasize a request, as in please do this to the benefit of me.

He backtracks pretty heavily. The verb comes at the end in Japanese sentences, so giving an exact one-to-one would be hard, but I'll try to explain it.

ボクはキミを... キミの中に眠る希望を心から愛していると。

Boku wa Kimi wo... Kimi no naka ni nemuru kibou wo koko kara aishiteiru to.

の/no = possessive. Such as, "Lucy's cat" "David's car".

を/wo = verb particle. There's no real English equivalent but you use it to signify some verb is being done onto something. Such as, "I kicked the ball" ("ball wo kick") or "I pet the cat" ("cat wo pet").

は/wa = topic particle. Commonly translates as "is/am" but that is NOT what it means. It just signifies everything that comes after it relates back to what comes before it. It's most accurate to think it as "as for the topic of..." Such as, "my damaged car wa had to go into the repair shop." After wa, "had to go into the repair shop", you ask, "what had to go into the repair shop?" you can find the answer in the topic, which is before wa: my damaged car. (or... me no damaged car.)

So, with this knowledge, let's break down the sentence.

Boku = I/me.

Kimi = you.

So this would make Boku wa Kimi wo in it's most literal form: as for the topic of me (aka, speaking for me), I, onto you...

Then he trails off. wo becomes no.

I, onto your hope sleeping inside of you...

and then we return to wo:

from the bottom of (one's) heart, love [the hope sleeping inside of you].

One could easily see it as Komaeda quickly changing the wo to no to add extra steps to not make the confession so head-on. Because if we remove everything after no and just continue where the wo leaves off, we get:

Boku wa Kimi wo koko kara aishiteiru to.

As for me, I, from the bottom of my heart, love you.

Now...one could also read it as him not backtracking, but adding. Saying I love you and the hope that lies dormant within you. Both are equally plausible. Listening to the audio it can go either way, but the way he quickly and softly drops off when he gets to the first wo makes me feel like it's a backtrack. Or maybe the background music is just too loud haha.

Well, that's all I got for now.

[zmediaoutlet]

Hey Liz! Have you ready any good spn fic lately? :)

I have, and in fact I've been spite-reading. Have a curated wincest rec list you could share with anyone you like:

Bad Blood by astolat

Rating: E Word Count: 3,718 Summary: "Fuck me or I'm going to die isn't the world's best pickup line."  // "I've heard worse," Dean said. // "You've used worse," Sam said.

Original post date, 02/22/2007

Reccing because: No wincest primer would be complete without an astolat rec. You probably get fined by the Wincest FCC, otherwise. The flaw in astolat’s wincest, if we’re allowed to say such things about our saint and founder, is that Sam and Dean would sometimes fall into the whole thing super easily — this fic dispenses with that problem with a good ol’ classic dose of evil sex pollen, and if magic makes them do it then it could be a hell of a lot worse than how delightfully they do it here. I’m laughing out loud just remembering one of the scenes. Joys.

Coast On Through by philalethia

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 7,857 Summary: A post-first-time fic. With a lot of sex.

Original post date, 12/22/2007

Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest fic. Though the characterization is of its 2007 time, the Winchesters still feel like themselves, and more important feel like adults who are trying to navigate their very odd circumstances. A real classic of the brothers-with-benefits genre.

Keep Our Minds on the Sum of Each Other by lazy_daze

Rating: E Word Count: 9,593 Summary: N/A; provided tags are Bodyswap

Original post date, 12/26/2007

Reccing because: What a cheerful fuckin’ fic this is, for a fic about incestuous fuckin’. This takes the apocalyptic stakes and reels them back to a just deeply entertaining romp. Not too worried about the plot and much more worried about how hot these two are when they slam together, it’s a refreshingly non-angsty take on what it means that you just want to slurp on your brother wholesale.

Filthy Mind by rivkat

Rating: E Word Count: 26,384 Summary: Dean acquires unwelcome nightly visitors. Set post-Hell, without details as to how that happens.

Original post date, 10/07/2008

Reccing because: RivkaT is perhaps the all-time understander of the Weird Affect of Dean Winchester (As Played By Jensen Ackles) and the entirely destabilizing effect that affect has on the world. A real reality-warper. This fic deals with non-con and dub-con and who-knows-what-con and everything in between in a way that is more thoughtful than tawdry (although you can certainly enjoy the tawdriness as presented and the fic does not judge you for that). It also, thrillingly, deals with Sam’s alarm about the whole thing in a way which is fairly unflinching: he wants and does not want to want and also just really, really desperately wants-- Fans of Sheila’s analysis will probably enjoy this one. 

seeing double by candle_beck

Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 5,127 Summary: Dean has a concussion and his better senses come and go.

Original post date, 04/24/2009

Reccing because: I know there are more famous and more favored c_b fics, but this one is such a supremely perfect scene that it should be at the top of all c_b rec lists. It isn’t the catastrophic misery or assholery or intensity of some of the other big hitters but this just has this searingly true and singular experience coursing through it: to wit, that Dean is hurt and Sam is upset and then sorry and then in love. Which isn’t a half-bad summary of Supernatural itself, really. 

The incestuous courtship of the antichrist’s bride by fleshflutter

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 48,000 Summary: Sam is trying to become the Antichrist in order to save the world. He has a small army of angels and demons, he has an adoring cult, he has a work of prophecy by Jack Kerouac, and he has Dean. Things are going pretty well until he accidentally signs Dean up as his Beloved Consort, a role that requires sex with the Antichrist on an altar. And that's when things stop going pretty well. Also, the soundtrack to the Apocalypse sucks.

Original post date, 06/08/2009

Reccing because: It is so, so rare to find crack fics that work. This is crack treated like crack and also taken entirely seriously, which is a rare balance to find. When it needs to be horror it works, when it needs to be ridiculous it works, when it needs to be hot as fuck it works, and never has the phrase ‘apocalyptic cock’ been so appropriate and so wonderful in context. 

I’ve Got A Hand For You by Edwardina

Rating: E Word Count: 14,938 Summary: Sam's inexperience is showing, and Dean helps the best way he knows how.

Original post date, 03/12/2010

Reccing because: This is underage par excellence, as wonderfully weird and vaguely creepy and hot and alarming as it should always be. Dean’s 19 and Sam’s 14 and they should not but they are, and if that isn’t just a summary of Supernatural as a whole I don’t know what is. On the face of it this is a vaguely gnasty first time fic, but what sets this one apart is how earnestly real it is — the grimy-but-not-OTT reality of the details, Sam’s goofy kiddishness being complicated by the reality of what hormones are and do, Dean’s too-cool-ness alleviated by the fact that he’s nineteen and therefore still an idiot, trying earnestly to help and getting it wrong and getting it very right, all at the same time. The attention to detail here just knocks me over with a feather. Gorgeous work.

Two Part Invention by De_Nugis

Rating: T Word Count: 6,938 Summary: Dean settles down, Sam finds him, they settle some things.

Original post date, 12/25/2010

Reccing because: I very much appreciate a fic that, on the face of it, seems like an OOC premise, and then as soon as you think about it for fifteen seconds you realize — oh, of course, of course that’s how it should be and how it would go. This fic delivers on that feeling in spades. There’s a deep appreciation here for how complicated Sam Winchester is and how strange and hard it would be to have his life, and zero judgment, really, for what he and Dean have to do to make that life tenable. I appreciate the subtlety here so much.

Top This by leonidaslion

Rating: E Word Count: 4,076 Summary: Dean's sure he's a top. Only problem is, Sam's pretty sure that's his job …

Original post date, 04/10/2011

Reccing because: Is this crack? It surely is. Is it PWP? You bet. Is it in character? To be honest it hardly matters, but despite the context and conceit it does manage, somehow, to kinda feel like Sam and Dean Winchester from the canon of the show Supernatural, and that is a trick that earns it a spot on this list. Especially the way Sam goes slightly smug there at the end. Delights.

It’s the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu

Rating: E Word Count: 38,400 Summary: Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see. Damn it, Dean thinks, This is gonna take a lot of chickflick moments.

Original post date, 10/09/2011

Reccing because: Time travel fic is fun as hell, and time travel fic that just soaks you in dramatic irony is even more fun, and more importantly time travel fic where the time traveler doesn’t have all the answers is best of all. Very little is better than Dean being somewhat at sea and Sam loving him fiercely and this fic delivers that in spades. I could only wish it were a little longer, which is a very, very rare statement from me.

The Fall Will Probably Kill You by killabeez

Rating: M Word Count: 6,773 Summary: Set between 7.04 and the aftermath of 7.07. Dean is not as okay as he'd like you to think. Neither is Sam.

Original post date, 11/06/2011

Reccing because: This fic is thoroughly in and of and intensely about season 7, which I adored and which doesn’t get enough credit from the fandom. It deals with the Sam’s Insanity arc in a way that’s angstier and ficcier than the show itself but it does so in this stupendous and murderously flat way. Dean is at his wit’s end and Sam is, too, but Sam’s finding a way to deal with it, and Sam will not compromise on what dealing with it means, and we’re all just forced to live with it. Fantastic reading experience, especially for the almost literal jumpscare you get about 2/3s through.

The Hunter Games by theproblematique

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 92,601 Summary: When the infamous Winchester bad luck strikes twice in quick succession Sam and Dean are forced to compete in the most brutal reality TV show ever created. It’s impossible to escape the battlefield, hiding can only be temporary, and alliances inside those dark, bloodstained woods last about as long as it takes for the other Hunter to figure out how to use your weapons. And then kill you with them.

Original post date, 06/22/2012

Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest AU fic. We’re mostly all familiar with the source material, but this work blends the universe of the Hunger Games with the characterization & destiny of the Winchester boys in a way that’s extremely satisfying. The author’s other works are recced more often, but this piece is more deserving of a place as One Of Those Reclist Fics.

Kevin Tran for President by glovered

Rating: T Word Count: 11,714 Summary: Dean comes back from Purgatory to find Sam working as a barista at a coffee shop near Princeton, watching over Kevin Tran.

Original post date, 10/04/2012

Reccing because: Sometimes you just need a post-Purgatory fic that isn’t brutal. This story’s a light-hearted trip-along froth like most of glovered’s work, but there’s something in specific about this unfraught coming-together that makes it incredibly readable. Dean and Sam aren’t entirely on the same page but the relief of reunion makes everything else fade a little into the distance, and the charming little job they find themselves on here gives enough of an excuse for them to figure some things out. Also probably the best Cas & Meg side characters in a fic, so there’s that too.

Clear and simple and plain by Trojie

Rating: E Word Count: 1,893 Summary: After Sam gives up the Trials, things start getting better.

Original post date, 10/26/2013

Reccing because: This is a post-Trials fic where things don’t go incredibly wrong, which is a nice AU to sit in for a while. What’s impressive about this story, written in the time it was, is that it manages to presage the ~s11 era marriage very well indeed, in tone and vibe and even some content. They’re in the bunker and things aren’t perfect, but they’re together, and that’s a kind of perfection of its own. It isn’t sugary but it’s the kind of adult complex sweetness that makes one feel better, anyway.

hello by allwellandgood (formerly askance)

Rating: T Word Count: 4,128 Summary: There's a woman at the grocery store named Evelyn who always rings him up on the days he ventures out for food and she knows him, or likes to think she does. I hope you're not too lonely, she'll say. He chooses not to tell her that his dead brother sleeps at his feet every night. He'd rather not be the cause of her inevitable heart attack.

Original post date, 08/11/2014

Reccing because: So Dean’s dead. Everyone dies at some point. This fic is a beautifully soft and tender and bitterly kind way to deal with that. You feel Sam’s loss deep in your chest but it’s okay, because this is the world of Supernatural and there are options, and the relief he gets pours over like cool water. Not enough, and it’s not fixed, but it’s not as much of a misery as it was.

The Time Traveler’s Brother by amypond45

Rating: R Word Count: 55,458 Summary: Dean's life is turned upside down the night his mother dies. But that's also the night a mysterious grown-up version of Dean's brother first appears in his life. While Dean grows up, "Old Sam" is often there, especially when Dean's father isn't, and as Dean learns what the future holds, he begins to question everything his father has taught him about who he is and what he is supposed to become. Can Dean find a way to save his little brother from his own future? This pre-series AU follows Dean from age four to eighteen.

Original post date, 02/26/2015

Reccing because: It’s rare to have an AU so thoroughly engage with what the alternate universe it constructs means for characterization and plot. This does something outstanding with the Sam and Dean (and Deans) created by the conceit, but also uses that conceit to do something entirely new with the canon plot that just flips me over every time I remember it. There are some fantastic character insights here, both complimentary and not, but I’ll never be over the specific scene of young!Dean looking up at older!Dean and being disappointed. That’s him, that’s our little angst machine.

The King of Imperfections Takes Back the Prince of Mistakes: a fairy tale by britomart_is

Rating: E Word Count: 4,822 Summary: And they lived happily ever after.

Original post date, 06/06/2016

Reccing because: The summary is pretty much the summary and that’s such a relief, sometimes. They’re awful and stupid and they’re in love and love isn’t enough except it is, and they’re so friggin’ MARRIED in the most wonderful and dorky way. They have good-bad sex and they have idiot arguments and they’ve made it. Back in 2016 this seemed like the best possible option. Reading this story feels like reading 4800 words of relief.

Raw Food Diet by themegalosaurus

Rating: E Word Count: 2,959 Summary: Sam has one more meeting today. This one isn’t in his diary; not the public calendar everyone at the firm can access, nor the private one on his cell.

Original post date, 02/14/2019

Reccing because: If you were looking for depressing and almost revolting Lebanon AU, you’re in luck. This is serial killer!Dean at his worst and Sam Jobs at his (still slightly martyred) almost-worst and it’s the frankly gross and logical conclusion to: what would it mean, if those two horrible shitheads were still together, somehow or some way? It’s always almost a relief when fic manages to do a not-happy ending and this definitely does that. Refreshing, in its way, though you might want a shower after.

Ions in the Ether by nigeltde

Rating: E Word Count: 10,860 Summary: When was the last time you trusted happy.

Original post date, 03/12/2019

Reccing because: For any s2 obsessives as our author here is, this is a deep and alarming and inside-out dive into the obsession with a brother and with monstrousness and with what’s true and what’s not and also can you tell the difference, after all. A murky swirl through a shithole town, this fic picks and pries at wincest-as-concept in a way that’s somewhat achy and alarming and is overall delightful, if you’re willing to take the time to think about it. Plus Sam’s hot, which is of course a bonus.

there will be better days by deadlybride

Rating: E Word Count: 9,430 Summary: Sam and Dean settle into their heaven.

Original post date, 11/24/2020

Reccing because: I’m crass. But also I can’t think of another fic that feels as much like heaven as this one and I wanted heaven on the list.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unparadiz’d

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, blowjob, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Unparadiz’d - brought from joy to miserie. (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

This is the last of pajama party drabbles. Let me know if you want me to do anything else like this.

“Actually, you’re both wrong. Gladiators were more often highly-trained. In fact, many were soldiers, but they most certainly weren’t slaves,” you intone. 

You can’t help a smile. After more than an hour of chatter over things you didn’t know or care about, the conversation finally sways in your direction. History. That’s your ish. The Roman Empire especially. 

“And where did you get that?” Ransom scoffs.  

Charles rubs your back encouragingly. He hates how you tend to fade into the background. He needs someone who can stand at his side, not behind him. 

“Well, I studied history. Masters, um, but you know, I am always open to learning new things. So, perhaps you might have proof otherwise.” 

Ransom scowls. He hasn’t offered much more than that for most of the night. You don’t take it personally. He isn’t much better with the table full of people he calls friends. As the newcomer, you’ll happily just let it slide off your back. 

“I don’t care that much,” he snorts. “Whatever. Charles, what about that Corvette? Sounds like a broke down train pulling up.” 

“It’s antique. A classic. You would know if you had any sense of taste.” Charles rebuffs smoothly. “Safia, you’ll have to recommend me your chef. Mine can’t make ravioli for shit.” 

You smile prettily and keep your fingers pinched around the stem of your glass. Charles’ friends are the society type. Your own are few and far between and the most you did was go out for coffee or a movie. These people are intellectuals and you can’t help but feel like a pretender. 

“Stealing from me again, eh, Charles,” Safia drawls. “Mm, I might. If you’re a good boy.” 

Safia is gorgeous. Thick black brows, thicker hair, full lips. You can’t tell if she’s flirting or you’re just intimidated. 

“So,” Kimora turns to you pointedly, “you studied history. How cute. What did you study exactly?” 

“Hmph, Marie Antoinette and the like, I’m sure,” Ransom mutters. 

“Um, ancient history, actually,” you speak up. “Egypt, Greece, and Roman. But I was able to explore a bit more in my undergrad.” 

Ransom clucks and drains his glass of whiskey. Your eyes meet his stormy ones. You’re not sure if his irritation is meant for you or if it’s more a general disdain. Every time you speak only deepens his agitation. You might be better staying quiet. You can bear the lecture from Charles after, but the hatred in that man’s eyes pierces like a knife. 

“Well, if you’re looking for any writers on the subject,” Charles suggests, “I give her a five-star review.” 

“No one wants to read about dead people,” Ransom snips. 

You sip from your glass and lower your gaze to the table. You’re embarrassed. There’s really no particular reason to be but the way he talks scalds you with shame. Everything you do is wrong in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, Hugh, some of them are a lot more interesting than you,” Charles retorts. 

“Fuck off,” Ransom snarls. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Oh, my bad. At least Hugh doesn’t sound like it belongs on a dog,” Charles chuckles. 

Ransom slams his hand down, rattling his plate and cutlery, “you’re such a fucking smart ass, Charlie.” 

“Oh, behave,” Safia reprimands, “sit down.” 

“Piss off, mommy dearest,” Ransom spins and stomps out. “Bunch of snobs.” 

As he storms off, Charles laughs louder and Safia tuts and shakes her head at him. Bronson reaches over to take an untouched quiche from Ransom’s plate. “More for us.” 

You stare after the angry man. Something must be wrong. It can’t just be the dinner. It’s been rather pleasant up to that point. 

“Well, we’ve almost finished the bottle,” Charles reaches for the wine. “You’ve got a spare bed?” 

“You know I do, Charles,” Safia affirms. “I had the guest rooms made up. I know you all too well.” 

“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t kept pace,” Kimora tosses back with a smirk. “Charles, save some for me.” She puts her glass out and you glance down at your own. You still haven’t even finished your first. 

The night wears on as you once more get lost amidst the garble. You put a word in or two but someone else always talks a bit louder or you find yourself without much to say. Finally, the plates are cleared and you disburse to find a room to sleep in. 

You didn’t expect to stay the night, but Charles seems to have anticipated it. He pulls a black nightie from his leather bag and fans it out on the bed. You stare at the dainty fabric. 

“Oh, wonderful.” 

You wonder why he didn’t mention the possibility. It hardly matters. Charles knows best. 

You change into the night gown. It’s tight and a bit short. You fix the straps as they dig into your shoulders. 

“I don’t understand, it’s your size,” he drawls and belches into his hand, “mm, those prawns aren’t settling.” 

“Are you okay? Should I get you some water?” You offer. 

He waves you off and grumbles as he stomps around the bed. You watch him go then slowly look down at the nightie. Your chest threatens to fall out of the bodice. 

You sit and wait and listen. The tap runs then shuts off. Charles’ wretch follows and his vomit hits the water loudly. You cringe and get up. You go to the bathroom door and nudge it open, “Charles, can I--” 

“Get the fuck out!” He barks and you obey. 

You back up to the bed and sit. You won’t be able to sleep. He’s sick and you just want to make it better. Well, it’s good he gets it out. You probably wouldn’t want someone hovering over you in the same situation. 

You wait for Charles. Twenty minutes before you get up and knock on the bathroom door. He doesn’t answer but as you try the handle, you find it locked. He’ll come out when he’s ready. 

You keep the lamp on and move to the top of the bed. You fold the blanket back and recline, but don’t cover yourself. You turn onto your side and close your eyes.  

As you keep your ears perked for Charles’, you slowly drift down. After the long night and stress of meeting new people, you’re exhausted. You cross your arms and sink into the mattress. Reality is vague on the other side of your eyelids as sleep creeps up your body. 

You lurch away as a door clicks. You roll onto your back and look toward the bathroom. The door is still closed. You blink as a shadow emerges from behind the other. The door to the hallway. 

You lay in disbelief, paralysed in surprise. It’s Ransom. He wears only a pair of silk boxers. He must have gone into the wrong room. 

“Um, hi?” You sit up, “I think--” 

He puts his fingers to his lips and you snap your mouth shut. Confused. Maybe he needs to talk to Charles. 

“Charles is just--” 

He wiggles his finger then points it as you. He comes up to the foot of the bed. He tilts his head as his eyes scour over your body. He smirks. 

“You know about gladiators, huh? Know everything, don’t you?” He hisses. 

“Erm, no, I... no,” you gulp. “I didn’t say that.” 

“But you had to say something,” he snorts. 

“No, I was only... talking,” you tense and bend your legs up protectively. “I’m just about to go to sleep. I can let Charles know--” 

“You can shut the fuck up,” he puts his knee on the bed and reaches for you. He snakes your ankle and pulls your leg straight. You squeal as he hauls you down the bed. “Make another noise and I’ll go find Charles and bash his head into the fucking toilet.” 

“Please,” you wisp. 

“I fucking mean it,” he wrestles your legs down as you try to kick. He crawls over your body to straddle you. You claw at his forearms and wriggle helplessly. “You think you fucking know it all, well, I’m about to teach you the most important fucking lesson.” 

He closes his hands around your throat and you cough. His thumb presses down sharply and you whimper. He shakes you until you’re quiet. Your eyes wet and you try to bat away the fuzzy sheen. 

“You don’t fuck around with me,” he growls as he glares down at you. “I don’t care if you’re fucking that cockwad, you speak to me with respect.” 

You wheeze and slap your hand on the bed. You didn’t mean to. You were just trying to fit in. Why is he so mad? 

“So let’s start easy. Don’t make a fucking sound, do you got me?” 

You nod frantically against his grip as your head pulses from the lack of air. He grins and slowly releases you. He brushes his hands along your shoulders and yanks down the straps of your dress. Your tits pop out and you close your eyes in shame. 

“Look at these things,” he gropes your chest greedily. “Guess that makes up for that mouth.” You sniffle and he pinches your nipples meanly, “look at me, you bitch.” 

Your eyes snap open and round, tears bobbling along the brims. He snickers and flicks his finger up your throat. He pokes at your mouth and toys with your lower lip. 

“I know exactly how to train that mouth of yours. Surprised Charlie hasn’t already,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, forcing deep until his knuckles press against your teeth and you gag. 

He rips his hand away and raises himself on his knees. You squeak as he rolls down his boxers and springs free. His dick bobs as he climbs over you and you shake your head and snivel. 

He grabs his dick and your head. He wrenches you up by your hair, straining your neck as he presses his tip to your lips. You clamp your mouth shut and whimper. 

“Open the fuck up or I’ll break your teeth. Don’t think I’m fucking lying. I’m here, aren’t I?” 

You tremble and give in. Your eyes flow over and blur with the wash of tears. It’s not just the violation, it’s that Charles is right on the other side of that wall. And you’re just letting this happen. 

Ransom rams into your mouth. He shows no mercy as he thrusts down and invades your throat. His hand fists in your hair as his other trails back to your throat. He rubs there as he pushes down to his limit. As he thrusts, he feels himself from the outside, growling and grunting as you gurgle. 

“Yeah, fuck,” He ruts harder and harder. Saliva pastes across your cheeks and your throat sears from his relentless fucking. “That mouth isn’t so fucking bad. Fuck. And those tits. You fucking play with those tits.” 

He straddles just above your chest. You bring your hands up and cup your tits in your hands. You babble and squeeze, squirming as he pumps into your mouth. 

“Like that. Huh? Listen to you. Sounds like he don’t fuck you good enough. He doesn’t punish this mouth how it should be,” he snarls and puffs as you feel the tension cord through him, “oh, yeah... yeah... yeah...” 

His breath rattles and he quakes. He yanks your head up so your mouth is right against his pelvis. He rocks slightly, suffocating you, and suddenly, twitches. You feel him explode in your throat. His cums flood you, rising into your mouth and coming out your nose as you choke and hack. 

You quake and cough as he pulls out of you, inch by inch. Your body lurches as you barely hold back a swell of nausea. He raises himself over you, his dick softening slowly as it shines with spit and semen. He groans and cradles his balls. 

“Actually, you aren't entirely useless.” He taunts. 

[s1utlvr]

Chemtrails Over the Country Club ﹏

Luke Castellan X fem!aphrodite reader

In which Luke comes to recruit you.

a/n: Honestly this fic is so unserious and unhinged 😭😭 also listen. Idk how this got so long but it did. Also don’t know how this got so angsty but it did. Anyways takes place during sea of monsters just some heated making out and arguing mentions of bullying kinda Luke being well Luke. This was supposed to be inspired by I can see you by Taylor swift but then it got really long and angsty so here’s a little playlist of all the songs that inspired this. (Listen in order or don’t idc) Not proofread yeah that’s it lmk if I missed something.

Reflections- The Neighborhood

Chemtails Over the Country Club -Lana Del Rey

Money power Glory- Lana Del Rey

I Can See You - Taylor swift

Listening time- 17 mins

Word Count- 4.9k

~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~~𖠳~~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~

There was no one at camp who hadn’t heard the story of the night Percy Jackson returned.

It was a night of triumph as the son of Poseidon had saved Olympus and prevented war, until Luke castellan outed himself as the lighting thief and disappear.

And just like triumph came it diminished and once more there was talk of war.

But between all of this there was just something you couldn’t wrap your head around.

After the summer solstice most people left feeling frazzled, those like you who stayed for the remainder of the term continued picking sides preparing for the war that was said to come just like before Percy had returned.

Just like all the other cabins yours had come to a consensus as well, despite the fact your mother was a war goddess most were against a war out of hatred and spite for the gods and while you agreed part of you couldn’t help but feel…different.

Sure you were against a war breaking out any sane person would be, but part of you couldn’t help but sympathize with Luke.

See for a while you were your mother’s pride and joy, the epitome of what it meant to be Aphrodites daughter. You were charming, sweet, and had a beauty that could only come from the goddess of love and beauty herself and you lived for for the love and attention of your peers and your mother til you realized that was all you had to offer, and once someone sweeter, kinder, prettier came along you were left with nothing.

Your mother gave you everything, and then she took it all away.

It was humiliating being the “dumb Aphrodite kid” constantly being ridiculed for being shallow and vain but how could you not when all you were left with was your beauty?

You couldn’t even recount the amount of times you had sobbed and sobbed and sobbed about it the amount of times that you had prayed to something that you hoped could be bigger than the gods to give you a different parent someone who could gift you with knowledge or wisdom or skill or creativity just something that could make you feel like you were more like you were worthy, for a while you even considered joining the hunt. It wasn’t like your mother would ever let anyone endure the misery that would be loving you.

However despite all of this Luke still saw you.

You weren’t exactly friends throughout your time at camp half-blood but he treated you a hell of a lot better than most of his siblings whom would just look at you and whistle.

Whenever you two would spar he’d always give you a real challenge not letting you stop until you finally beat him and it was during the brief conversations after these moments where you found yourself seeing bits of you in him.

You were both runaways desperate to cling to something,desperate for glory, nobodies son and nobodies daughter; the wasted potential of your parents.

It was for this reason that you found yourself laying awake in the middle of the night pondering about Luke. War was bad for everyone there was no question about it and no sane person would just start of war out of spite. You knew it wasn’t right but part of you felt like he had to have had a reason for his doings something that had to have pushed him over the edge.

You hated to admit it but for the months he’s was gone you were miserable. You were loosing yourself without your conversations with Luke and worst of all you were loosing your beauty.

Sure it sounded vain but it was an odd phenomenon that occurred one in a million. See Aphrodites kids lived off of love, self and that of others it was one of the things that helped them thrive, and seeing as you were lacking both your hair began to thin and your face had begun hollowing out,suddenly you really started to feel for Luke.

It was your last straw, and what you would go on to say was your reason for the decision you made the night you saw him.

It was Labor Day weekend which also happened to be the last weekend before most began returning to camp and it was tradition for the year round campers to throw a final intimate campfire.

You had tried to ride out the night with some of your siblings but you had found it to be just as insufferable so you made your way back to your cabin.

It was quiet for a change, and for a minute it felt quite peaceful as you felt yourself closing your eyes until you heard the cabin door open once more.

You had expected to look up and see one of your siblings but instead, it was him.

You wore a shocked expression on your face your eyes looking his body up and down.

it was really him.

You didn’t know how to react he looked the same wearing sweatpants and a gray hoodie that hugged his arms a bit tighter, he had been training.

Despite the fact that he looked the same you knew he wasn’t, all you knew was that he was out for blood and he was standing infront of you.

Breathing was getting harder, as you moved back onto your bed your eyes stuck on the man infront of you.

“What…what do you want with me?” You asked still completely dumbfounded.

“Relax…..i have no intentions of hurting you.”

His expression remained the same, he was calm and collected. You felt absolutely insane.

“Why are you here Luke” you asked trying to match his tone and failing as the shakiness of your voice came through.

“I’m here to recruit you.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Why me?”

“Because I think you can help me. You see when people see you all they see is a pretty face……they underestimate you, but i can see you y/n. And as far as I’m concerned you’re the smartest demigod i know” He sounded so sure of himself for a second you almost believed him.

“You’re lying” You scoffed as you watched his expression change he wasn’t as calm as he was before, he persistent on recruiting you

“Would you look around y/n? You’re the only one who even knows I’m here. Everyone else is oblivious not just to this but everything. You see the world differently, you understand me y/n i need you.”

“But why would should I?” It was vain. You needed no more convincing.

“If you join me no one is ever gonna dare look at you the wrong way, ever. I won’t let them underestimate you y/n.”

It wasn’t right. You knew it in your gut it wasn’t.

But for once in your life you felt seen,wanted, you had the chance to do something that was bigger than yourself.

“When do we leave?”

“It’s not quite like that, I need eyes on the inside….just for now until Percy arrives…not that he’ll be staying long.” Your expression dimmed as he spoke.

“You have to trust me on this”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“I don’t, but I do know something.”

“You’re your mother’s daughter. As much as we all despise them it doesn’t change the facts. And the fact is you Aphrodite kids are too loyal for your own good.

He could read you like a book, yet there was something freeing about the vulnerability you felt, like he was setting you free.

“I’m in”

He walked closer to you placing a few golden drachmas into your hand before closing your palm.

“I expect to hear from you soon.”

You had no idea what you had gotten yourself into.

The next couple of weeks were quiet, until they weren’t.Thalias tree had been poisoned and monsters were getting closer and closer each day,something told you it was Luke behind it. If you were right it was redundant to call him but something inside of you was telling you to call him anyways, so you grabbed a golden drachma from the pile that had been hiding away in your vanity followed by a prism of clear quartz and hoped for the best.

“Oh iris goddess of the rainbow please accept my offering” A rainbow reflected upon the window next to your bunk.

“Give me Luke Castellan, Princess andromeda, New York Harbor”

When you got to Luke he was in a meeting and didn’t notice your message at first but he looked different. His curls were shorter,shiner, like he had started taking care of them. He was wearing an emerald button up, trousers, and loafers that you could’ve sworn were gucci. To say he looked attractive was an understatement.

“It’s about time” He said startling you a bit as you had begun to zone out.

“I think you know why im calling, Thalias tree is dying”

“Perfect” a smirk landed on his face.

“That’s not it though. The barrier’s diminishing there’s talk about having twenty-four seven security on half blood hill and Clarisse is already there like every hour of the day”

His expression changed.

“How fast can you get to New York harbor?”

“I’m not finished. Chiron doesn’t want Percy going to camp this year, says it too dangerous.”

That was it, his eyes darkened as his mind wandered aimlessly in panic. He looked no where near as confident as he did just minutes ago.

“Pack up im calling a car, we’ll figure out what to do about Percy once you’re here”

You watched as his face quickly faded from the kaleidoscope of colors. Something was wrong very wrong but whatever it was he trusted you with it, and you trusted him.

Packing was always your specialty, you’d had the ability to pack your entire life into a duffel bag since you had started coming to camp; shoes,toiletries makeup, on bottom, in the upper part underwear, pants,dresses, shirts, in that order, and right on-top the thing that was missing this go around. The bright orange colored “Camp Half-Blood” shirts.

There was something almost liberating about being able to abandon them on your bed. Maybe that’s why the gods always abandoned their children.

It wasn’t hard slipping out from camp, not than anyone really noticed you nowadays but it was dinner hour, and by the time it was over you were already boarding the Princess Andromeda where you were greeted by a cabin stewardess.

“Good evening Ms. Y/n. We’ve been expecting you” She was tall blonde and had dry almost scale-y hands, something told you she wasn’t exactly human but you didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

She took your bags and led you to your room, the decor ironically reminiscent of the Poseidon cabin.

“Mr Castellan needs you in the orlop at ten but until then feel free to enjoy any and all amenities, enjoy your stay.”

You nodded as you watched her leave the room closing the door behind you.

You began to unpack while simultaneously trying to figure out what to wear. You weren’t exactly sure what the dress code was for a meeting to plan the downfall of Percy Jackson but based off of what you’d seen Luke wearing in your iris message you assumed business formal.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you’d pack the dress, it was a gift from your mother from when she’d actually bothered to try and have a relationship with you. It was a long black dress with chains around the waist. You hadn’t worn it in months. The words that came out of her mouth as she handed it to you played in your head on repeat.

“Your beauty is all powerful. What you do with that is of your choosing but choose wisely.”

You weren’t sure if you believed that anymore, if you believed her at all. But the dress felt appropriate.

You let your hair down and got ready applying some light makeup, something you hadn’t done since last summer. Meanwhile you’d thought about what people had said about Luke last summer, wondering if they’d say the same things about you once they found out, if they’d call you a “traitor” and a “monster” But If what you were doing was so wrong then how come you finally felt like yourself again?

A bit later the stewardess who had greeted you earlier escorted you down some corridors to the bottom deck to an old maintenance room that was now being used as a lair of sorts.

Inside Luke was sitting crouched over in a chair with his head down,next to him was Chris Rodriguez one if his siblings you’d seen around camp and two other men who appeared to be older than you three.

Tensions were high, you felt it as soon as you walked in.

As he heard you walk in Luke looked up adjusting himself as he looked your body up and down.

“Good you’re here. Take a seat we don’t have much time.” He said as he motioned to the seat next to him.

You sat down, the other two men watching you closely.

“How much do you know?” One of the anonymous men asked.

“Percy was supposed to go back to camp at the end of this week, Thursday. Chiron has been trying to convince Sally Jackson otherwise but Percy Himself isn’t aware of the state of camp.” You said

“He doesn’t get to camp he can’t take the bait and all of this is fucked we need a plan and we need it now.” Luke was getting agitated.

“We need to make him not going not an option.” Chris added.

“Exactly” luke replied

It was silent for a moment, the sound of Luke tapping his foot filled the room until one of the men spoke.

“I know some people we can call up, get him in some trouble at school. If he’s still under the impression camp is safe he’ll go running to Chiron.”

You watched as a wave of relief washed over Luke’s face.

“Get to it we don’t have time to waste.”

The man nodded before walking out of the room followed by the other man.

“Hey man I’m gonna go grab a drink you want?”

“Yeah I’ll meet you there” Luke said to him as Chris nodded before walking out.

You watched as he left your eyes locking on Luke once you heard the door shut. He looked even better than he did in the iris message now that you were seeing him in person. You couldn’t help but imagine things that would make even your mom blush.

“You came” He said as he turned to face you.

You sound suprised”

“Not surprised, relieved. Without your intel Percy wouldve had us chasing our own tail. I’m glad you made it.” He sounded sweet, genuine. It was hard to believe he was the same person people had talking about at camp.

“Glad I’m here.” You said shooting him a soft smile as he stood up offering out his hand, you took it as you stood up.

“You wanna come with?” He asked motioning to the door.

“I’m ok, I’ll see you later”

“I tried” He said with a fake dramatic sigh as he held his hand to his heart you rolled your eyes at his antics.

“You look good y/n” He said before exiting the room.

His words shouldn’t have made your heart flutter like they did, you were nothing more to him than a pawn, but if he could get something out of this why couldn’t you?

You decided to grab a jacket from your room and make your way up to the deck, it was late and empty for the most part as you settled on the ledge of the boat looking out at the New York skyline in the distance, the Brooklyn bridge illuminating the night sky. As much as you may have hated the gods you had to give them some credit. They picked a beautiful city to move Olympus too.

“What are you doing?” You heard from behind you as you turned to face Luke.

“Admiring the view” you responded letting out a sigh at the look of his face of disdain.

“It’s not safe out here, they’ll smell you.” He said as he walked towards you his expression ever so slowly relaxing.

“nothing you can’t handle.” You replied with a smirk. It was true, Luke was the best swordsmen you knew there wasn’t a monster he couldn’t handle.

“Doesn’t mean you can just go around getting into trouble, what am I your saving grace?”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth made you blush, he really did save you.

Cmon, you ought to get back to your room” he said as hey began walking back inside.

“It’s ok I’ll find my way around” you said as you scurried infront of him.

“Nonsense youre staying next to me I’ll walk you” Luke replied continuing to walk as you stopped in your tracks.

“You know I can look out for myself”

“Believe me I know, you wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t…..it just helps me sleep at night.” There was something comforting about his words that made you smile as you caught up to him.

“Kinda sounds like you do wanna save” you teased as you walked alongside him.

“Did I not?” He replied making a fake face of confusion causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yeah you totally did” you said as you entered the hallway your rooms were on.

“Get some rest, things should be pretty calm til we get to Miami.” Luke said resting his arm on your shoulder.

“What’re we doing in Miami?” You asked.

“Just….rest up”

“I’ll see you in the morning then” You said as you walked down to your room glancing at him down the hallway one last time before entering.

You couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything at all really. Only his words that replayed in your head over and over and over and the way his lips seemed to glisten and the way his shirt hugged his arms and most of all fthe fact that there was nearly a thin wall separating you and Luke, and the things you’d be able to hear through it.

For the first time in months you slept like a rock knowing you weren’t alone knowing there was someone looking out for you. Sure you weren’t helpless but you weren’t against the idea of Luke wanting to look out for you.

The rest of the day was nice, peaceful, for the most part that was until evening.

Word got around Annabeth had single handled gotten Percy back to camp and they were figuring out things too quickly which called for an emergency meeting meaning Luke practically dragged you out of your room while you were half dressed leaving you in a tank top and some sweatpants.

“Wait so what’s happening?” You asked as you scurried to the lower deck

“Clarisse was sent on a quest to go obtain the Golden Fleece for Thalias tree”

“Which is good for us right?”

“Wrong, cause we had assumed Percy would go”

“So what now?”

“‘thing is because of that we had started to reroute only to find out the impertinent shit and his entourage are planning on joining her” He said slamming open the door to the old maintence room and slamming it just as quickly as she opened it.

“Listen Luke our options are limited-“ Chris stated as you entered the room.

“You think I don’t know that?” Luke hissed.

“I’m just saying our best bet is to lure him on board when he gets to the harbor.”

You scowled at his words. “We can’t do that”

“Says who?” Chris scoffed

“It’s not logical. We’d be risking everything we know little nothing we don’t know who or what he could have with him all we know is who he is and he is not to be underestimated for this to work we need more. We might aswell be serving ourselves up on a silver platter”

“She has a point” One of the guys from yesterday responded as you felt Chris’ piercing eyes on you.

“Why should we listen to her? She’s always just been a dumb Aphrodite girl what like that changed overnight”

Your heart sank. Just like that you were back at camp.

“Excuse me?”

“Y/n-“ Luke said reaching out for your arm only to be pushed away.

“No what the fuck did you just say? Aphrodite may be my mother but atleast I know who my godly parent it. You’re just an unclaimed kid who Hermes took pity on so if I were you I wouldn’t be talking.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“This is a fucking joke you’re a fucking joke-“ You cursed as you stormed out Luke following quickly behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” He shouted as you walked into your room

“I don’t know you tell me”

“You can’t do that”

“I thought we had an agreed no more of that bullshit but i guess since it’s your best fucking friend that doesn’t apply to him huh?”

“What’s it gonna take for you to keep your fucking mouth shut huh?” He shouted cornering you into a wall.

You were tongue tied. For the first time you’d seen the monster people had described at camp for months. But under the anger in his eyes you saw something else, a deep hunger and desire.

“I’m sorry-“

“Luke” you cried out as you swallowed a lump in your throat causing it to come out as more of a breathy moan.

You watched his eyes lighten as the anger turned into pure lust in his eyes your shaky hand making its way up to his neck only to be met by his wrist.

“If his happens you will be putting yourself into immediate danger, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe but not a single person can know. You are my weakness and if someone figured that out I cannot assure you that you won’t end up dead and I can’t loose anyone else y/n especially not you, but you have to understand I will not have you mess this operation up do you understand?”

You couldn’t speak.

“I said do you understand?” His voice was louder harsher.

“Yes”

The moment the word slipped off your tongue his lips were pressed against yours with full force. There was absolutely nothing romantic about the way his hands gripped at your sides and the way his lips gnawed at your skin. It was pure lust and desire.

And it was everything you had ever wished for.

you despised your mother, but for once in your life you couldn’t thank her enough.

It was rushed and sloppy but Luke had never needed anything in his life so badly like he needed you.

He could’ve kissed you forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough, his tongue longing for the taste of you the moment you pulled away from him.

“Not a word about this.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to keep me quiet.”

[apricot-blossomss]

Halluuu, may i request for a Hermes x f reader comfort where reader is just having a bad night and Hermes comforts her?

☛ hermes comforting mortal! fem! reader on a bad night

☛ sfw, tw: self-depricating thoughts and anxiety; my therapist would have a field day with this

Why did your thouhts have to torment you on a night like this? A night that was supposed to be perfect, with a light breeze, soft sheets and your ethereal lover's arm holding you lazily as his soft breaths filled the room. And yet, thoughts were running wild in your head and wouldn't grant you any rest. But you had to sleep, you had to stop, you had to enjoy this.

How many of these nights would be in your future, if any? What was stopping Hermes from getting up tomorrow and never returning again? You wouldn't be able to blame him. He was a god. Why would he settle for someone like you? Someone mortal, plain, who had nothing to give but mere kindness. Who wasn't divine, wasn't extraordinary, was so easily replacable.

Anxiety wrapped its unforgiving fingers around your heart and squeezed tightly. You loved Hermes, but how could he love you? What made him stay in the first place? You knew what his family and friends thought about you, you knew it yourself. You weren't enough for him. He was an olympian god, and what about you?

There was no way you could ever tell him what you felt. If you brought his attention to the fact the he could do so much better, he would leave you. It was selfish, and you despised yourself for trapping him with you. You didn't deserve him.

And there was something else. You didn't want to let him know. He always said you were like a ray of sunshine, you were so kind to him, always cheered him up when his work exhausted him, always looking out for him, always making him smile. It was your job to be happy, it was what made you a little valuable at least. What reason could he have for staying than you being fun to be around? And moping around surely didn't make you fun to be around. A sorry sack of misery wouldn't make him stay, now, would it?

You hadn't realized you were crying and scolded yourself, trying to choke down the sobs that threatened to leave your throat. but the hand on your mouth did anything but help when your felt your lungs tighten. A sudden panic shot through your veins. You couldn't breathe. Gasping for air, you felt your chest constrict and scrambled to get rid of your clothes, but you couldnt move your arms.

"Hey, hey!" With half a mind, you realized Hermes was calling your name and holding your hands. "Whoa," he breathed, "Calm down. I'm here, alright? Just- I'm here." He sat you up in the bed and the sound of his voice brought the air back into your loungs. His concerned face hovered over you as he brushed sweaty strands of hair out of your face.

"Ah, uhm, sorry for waking you." You cursed your shaky voice and tried to wipe the tears away as inconspicuously as possible. But your hands were shaking so hard you could hardly brush away the obvious wetness on your cheeks. His brows only furrowed deeper. "I'm fine, go back to sleep."

"No, you aren't," Hermes said with a seriousness you rarely got to see from him. A little awkwardly, he wrapped an arm around you and took your trembling hand. "You're shaking all over, baby. What's going on?"

Despite your best efforts, the smile you forced onto your face must have not been very convincing because he only frowned harder. In your best attempt at a cheery voice, you answered: "It's nothing, really, I'm sorry for waking you and being all-" At the worst possible moment, your voice broke off and you tried to overplay it with a cough, but new tears stung in your eyes. You smiled at him anyway. "You should go back to sleep."

"Absolutely not!" Hermes argued firmly, very unnerved by the new tears streaming down your cheeks that you tried to wipe away. "Please," his voice got that pleading tone that you could not resist. The one that always had you put down everything and fall into his arms. He took your hands from your face and kissed your fingertips lightly. They were glistening with your tears. "Tell me, I want to know."

You broke. It just all broke out of you as heaving sobs shook your body and tears streamed down your cheeks. His arms closed tightly around you and you could only cry into his chest as he held your shaking body with the utmost tenderness.

"I don't deserve you," you sobbed. "Why would you ever stay with me? You're a god, and I'm just-" Your voice broke and you had to start again. "'M so so sorry, I want to be happy with you and I only want you to see my bright sides but I can't-" Only chocked sounds left your lips and you wet his chest with salty tears.

"Shh," he hummed and cradled you in his arms. "Calm down, baby." His chest rumbled as he spoke and you found solace in the sound, burying your head even further into the heat of his body.

After a few minutes, you managed to shakily wipe the tears away and look up at him. You imagined you were a very pathetic sight to behold right now, but the smile Hermes gave you was so tender and gentle your heart swelled with overwhelming affection. The same affection was laced into his voice as he spoke.

"How could you ever think that I would leave you?" Hermes whispered and ran a hand through your hair. "Baby, your obliviousness is admirable. And I- I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that you couldn't trust me with your baggage." When you shook your head violently and opened your mouth to protest, he shushed you. "But I want you to give me a chance to love all of you. The bright and dark sides, the good and bad days. 'Cause I love you. All of you."

Shakily, you nodded, and he leaned down to press a kiss onto your lips. It tasted of salt and tears, but the way he cradled your face, angled it just right made up for it. A long sigh left your mouth and he swallowed it up, pulling you impossibly closer and caressing your face as he kissed away your worries- for now.

When you were out of breath, you parted from him and managed to let out a small laugh. Small, broken, but real. "I don't think there will be any sleeping tonight, I'm afraid."

At your words, you could see an idea forming in his head, and a smile on his face. You knew that smile. The god leaned down to your ear and you felt his hot breath on your neck. "How would you like a little walk?"

"Uh, sure," you said, completely dumbfounded by his proximity, as always. He grinned down at you triumphantly and booped your nose. You frowned at him and he laughed lightly. "You just stay right there, baby, while I get my shoes."

"Your shoes?" You froze as he hopped off the bed and searched the darkness for his winged shoes. "Your- what- but- You don't want to-" He did, you saw it in the smirk he flashed you as he put them on and held his arms open for you to throw yourself into them. "May I invite you on a romantic nighttime fly, m'lady?"

Clumsily and very skeptically, you crawled towards him to the foot of your bed and put your arms around his neck. A mix of excitement and panic twirled around in your stomach that made you forget all about your worries and fears. His arms came up to lock around your waist securely and with you in his arms, he approached the open window. "Hermes, I swear, if you drop me I will kill you, and no immortality will be able to save you," you said, alarmed.

You only got a small laugh and a peck on the cheek in return, the next moment he had launched the both of you out of the window. It felt like you were falling, but upwards, which didn't make any sense. The speed with which he catapulted the two of you towards the stars had you scream and hide away in his tunic. Your hands were for sure drawing ichor with how they were digging into his shoulders. The wind howled in your ears, so loud you would have almost missed the ecstatic laugh coming from your lover. This was his turf.

A few breathless seconds of noise and speed and then it all stopped. You looked up carefully to see you were floating mid air, far above the ground under a sea of stars. Your stomach made a violent jolt when you made the mistake of looking down, so you looked up at the formations. "That's Ursa Major," you said, proud of yourself for remembering. "And Orion." Your eyes followed the Milky Way and you exclaimed in wonder.

"You like it?" Hermes asked and you looked back at him to nod. The stars reflected in his eyes, they held such affection and adoration that you suddenly felt stupid for not believing him when he said- "I love you," he breathed and you smiled giddily.

"You do!"

"Yes, I do," he laughed and whirled you around in a truly adventurous fashion. His hair tickled your throat when he buried his face in the crook of your neck. "Gods, I adore you so much, baby. Don't you ever doubt that."

You could only nod, because the moment was too magical to be disrupted by words. His lips on your neck, his confession lingering in the cool air and the contrasting warmth in your heart that was doing backflips of joy. There you were, entangled under the watchful stars, and in that moment you could only feel happiness, happiness and love.

[firemenenthusiast]

—“autumn”

jann mardenborough x fem!reader

summary: how many anniversaries could we actually get through ?

warnings: angst. read at your own risk

a/n: this has always been my favourite type of trope so rest assured, im totally fine and so excited to have written one myself (yippee😆)

“But you stuck around when I was down. And I'll owe you all my days”

anniversaries.

anniversaries is such a pure concept. a reminder of the exact day the paths of two stray souls intersect, a reminder for the beginning of a story, a reminder that maybe the universe isn’t pawning off of human misery afterall. jann loved anniversaries, he loved them so much so he went beyond his way to remind you of the day the paths of the stray soul within the both of you intersected. every single year, without fail would he plan something just to get to spend time with you, just to get to see you, in any way possible.

jann loved reliving the day he swore he was gonna spend the rest of his life with you, eventhough the two of you had just met. if he was to be offered the chance to be there again, in that park, bumping into you, he would snatch it off the offering hand so no one else would get there before him. again and again, no matter how long he’ll be stuck in the loop, no matter how much it’s violently clawing away every inch of his being. he would choose you, every. single. time, in a blink on an eye.

conveniently, today’s the anniversary of the day a really tall curlyhead made you drop the fresh pastry that was just handed to you by the nice cart uncle whom you saw almost every time you were strolling through the park. it was a major setback of your day, and you were close to erupt chaos of rage in the middle of the park seeing your pain au chocolat rolling on the ground helplessly, covered in dirt. at that time, the pastry seemed to be the only thing that could save you from a mental breakdown from a hell of a day you had just went through. so when a silly nerd decided he was gonna practise walking for the first time in his life and bumped into you, you felt like smacking him in the back of his head. if only you could actually reach it.

conveniently, the same silly nerd felt really bad about the whole situation, so much so he insisted on getting you a new one from the nice uncle’s cart. but this story would’ve ended right that moment if the nice uncle had more to offer. aparently the filth indulgent pastry on the ground was one of the few last ones he had to carry. it was in the evening after all, nobody were actually looking forward to some flaky, buttery goodness at that time. you were ready to accept everything the universe had planned for your misery that day, to just drag your feet home with slumped shoulders, tired eyes and tastebuds yearning for what could’ve been your sitting-by-the-fountain snack. and you did, but not without the silly nerd’s offer of getting you one the next day, as a repayment of his crooked steps that were the cause of the tragedy to the french, which of course, was the pastry on the ground.

conveniently, when you walked through the park the next day, on the same path you do every day after work, you saw the silly nerd again. only this time he didn’t look so silly, because in his hands were already two pain au chocolats, beautifully wrapped with a sheer paper, just in time for your arrival. it’s like he knew exactly when you were gonna come, and it’s like he knew that you weren’t gonna stood him up on that offer. in reality, it was nothing like that. he couldn’t get the nerves out of his system, and he almost bleed out his bottom lips from biting on them too hard in anticipation on whether you were gonna come.

he had every right to think that after the awkwardness and the clumsiness he displayed the day before, you were gonna think that he’s such a loser. and that such a beauty like you wouldn’t ever dare to even be in his presence ever again. he accepted that fact, he did. but he was willing to risk it, he was willing to appear stupid in that park again, holding two pastries in his hands like some kind of idiot. to his suprise, he got to see that pretty face again. the muscly organ behind his chest beat like it was gonna replace the pastry from the day before, on the ground, rolling in dirt. the universe owe him one for what happened, so what was actually displayed on his face when he saw you was a bright smile. a smile so bright that it was contagious, so bright that it jumped right onto your face too.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening by the fountain, enjoying the pastry together, realising that you enjoyed one another more than the deliciousness in your hands. the doors of your homes at that time welcomed the arrival of two people back home, separately ofcourse, noticing the obvious grins on your faces. it was almost cliche, and the story sounded like it jumped right out of a 90s romcom. only that those always end with a happy ending, making them the definition of cliche.

every thing seemed to be so conveniently sketched out in the story about the both of you, yet what actually made it all possible were the two hearts that tugged themselves towards each other, the willingness to make space for one another, and the fondness that was growing. yes, it all happened in a simple way, but what most people dont get is that simplicity is often overlooked. for the both of you, simplicity is what tied two beings together. loving you was simple for jann. it came almost like breathing for him, and it’s like he was dead for the first part of his life, before he met you. jann liked simple, but not as much as he loved you. if complexity is what he had to endure to keep you in his heart, to keep you close, then he’s willing to be demented for the rest of eternity.

jann had this routine he’d been doing since your very first anniversary, that he without fail would go over, sometimes even adding new things to the tradition he thought you’d like. walking down the pavement below his appartment, towards the cute little flowershop right beside the cafe, he already knew what he would get.

your flowers.

the flowers that he’d told you reminded him of you, and the flowers that he said represented you so well. he told you countless times whenever he’d get you those flowers that even with them beside you, you’re still so much prettier. and as corny as it might sound, you had to conceal the heat and red rushing towards your face.

jann had his way with words, particularly because they weren’t purposely formed to flatter you, they were actually a fragment of his love for you. sometimes he didn’t even realise that he was making you feel all giddy inside, and that his rosy cheeks were suddenly looking all kissable. at this point mrs. anderson from the flowershop already got the bouquet prepared for him, and it’s just the most convenient thing ever. one thing stripping him away from the whole routine is deliberately picking out each stem to build the bouquet. it was around your sixth anniversary had mrs. anderson realised that jann had been walking through her door around the same time of every year.

jann always came in to buy the exact same flowers in the fall, without fail.

so she stuck out and showed interest to the flowers jann had been getting all those years, asking about who was it for, what’s the occasion and all. she learned a lot about you from listening to jann without even having met you. that time when you actually walked into the shop with jann, you were slightly taken aback by how much the woman knew about you. jann was just chuckling in the background at the whole meeting, amusement clearly accompanying him. the both of you had become her favourite couple since then.

because of the season, the flower would become harder to obtain. it wouldn’t be found anywhere else accept mrs. anderson’s, that happened to be right at the corner of his apartment, just a walk down the pavement away. has anyone been keeping the word count on the word convenient so far ? even if the small shop around the corner didn’t carry your flowers, he would be walking to the final edge of the earth if he had to. what could you say ? jann’s a stickler for routines and when the routine involves making you happy, he’d be more than ecstatic.

on this exact date every year, your routine is to put on your best clothes, stand in your most gorgeous pair of shoes, and walk to the park where the two of you met that particular evening with your prettiest face. but that was never a problem. you’d sit on the creaking wooden hazel bench and wait for jann. only that on your anniversaries, jann wouldn’t knock your fresh pastry down to be eaten by the ground. the routine you two had for your anniversary was maybe corny and cheesy to some, but it reminds you of the silly nerd that looked like he was damn near picking up the little snack he’d accidently made you drop to lick all the dirt off of it before handing it back to you. you were forever grateful he didn’t actually do that, because you didn’t think you’d be coming back the next day to meet him in the same spot.

somewhere around your 12th anniversary, 8 years after your marriage did the park became no longer the strategic spot for your anniversary meet up, as it was no longer suitable for the picnic the both of you would set up to just bask in each other’s warmth amidst the breeze of autumn, intertwining your fingers till sometimes they get entangled. even though it was simple, yet it was the date you’d look forward to all year round. it was so special, that you promised each other that the tradition wouldn’t die down, away with one of you. every time you’d sit on the checkered blanket weighted down by the basket and both your figures, you’d talk about the future, and what the both of you hope for each other. it was nice, really nice. especially when jann would bring up the topic of having a mini you around the house, your cheeks would heat up and the cold would always expose the rosy tint away. he thought it was the cutest thing ever, which was why he swore he’d never stop teasing you about it.

it was also in that very park, on a walk the both of you decided to take on a random saturday did he first said that he loved you, to which you told him the same. it was pure, what the two of you had. you were so good for each other, a few fights ? ofcourse, but nothing could infiltrate the depth of fondness you held within your core.

it’s your 15th anniversary today, a huge number yet it feels so small. how fast time flies when you spend the entirety of your life devoted to each other. jann couldn’t help the bittersweet smile creeping onto his face as he walk on the fluffy grass, his hand swiping across the swinging wooden sign when he steps past.

“c’mon, lets go see mommy sweetheart” the little girl clinging onto jann’s large hand seemed to not have anything to protest, as she obediently arranges her new steps infront each of them, eyes focused on her little strawberry shoes.

seeing her so determined sends a tingle in his heart, how could a human this small be so precious to him ? how could a small human that he just met three years ago be so dear to him that if anything were to happen to her he’d ask the devil to lunge his sword right into his chest himself ? well maybe that’s a bit too graphic but he stands by his point.

“hey honey, we’re here” jann announces to you in a sing songy tone, to get the little girl’s attention and to tell her they’ve arrived at their destination.

crouching beside his daughter, jann holds her chubby arms to face her towards you, handing her the bouquet of your flowers the both of them had fetched from mrs. anderson so she could place it on the shiny sleek marble slab, engraved on it are your first and middle name, and ‘mardenborough’ at the end of them.

it’s true that the park was no longer suitable, as you had been forever eternalized someplace else.

“sorry we’re a bit late, someone insisted on wearing her strawberry shoes this morning instead of her favourite purple ones she makes me put on her every single day” jann informs, talking to the non-responding piece of stone with a warm smile, his large hands almost covering the entirety of the little child’s anterior. a pair of amber hued orbs stares back at him, obviously unamused knowing that her dad was talking about her.

“atleast that shows that she’s got fashion sense just like you. i mean, it couldn’t possibly be from me” the end of his sentence is accompanied by a soft laugh, before it slowly trails away. pulling a deep breath, he looks over to the little hand pulling at his curls at the side of his head. the same curls that is also on top of hers.

“hey you wanna tell mommy what we did yesterday ?” the girl nods at his offer, perking up to exercise her speech that has started to get really put together. jann’s more excited knowing that compared to last year, she gets to actually tell you what they did the day before, having only gained her speech earlier this year. they tried telling you last year, but all that came out were mumbles of the words ‘mama’ and ‘dada’. seemed to be all she knew back then.

“we went to picnic in daddy’s park, had pasty” she begins, which also seems to be the end too, earning a light chuckle from jann.

“it’s pastry, but you get it” he informs with a hand gesture, smoothing his hand over her head, the luscious curls moving back against his palm.

trailing his eyes across every inch of your stone, his hand reaches up to graze over the surface, dragging with his fingers the thin dust film. all he could do was smile, forcefully tucking away the heavy, deep longing painfully dragging down his core. the least he could do to show his love for you now is to raise his little girl to be the amazing person he once knew you were. he prays, every single day that he has what it takes to replicate such beauty from within.

the picnic tradition the both of you had changed now, for a slightest bit. instead of going on your exact anniversary date, jann now brings your daughter to the park a day before to spend the entire evening, reminiscing about you. it’s his way of keeping the memory of you always alive for his daughter. and the next day would be reserved to go see you at a totally different location, far away from the park.

seeing as his daughter wouldn’t get to grow up with the warmth of your love as much as he got to, he decided that this will be the way of him sharing what’s left of that love with her, by devoting this tradition to remind his daughter that her mother will always be looking out for her. jann wishes that the tradition of your anniversary will live forever, until the universe sends him the invitation of reuniting with you again, in a different universe.

a universe far away from the one where a love story is so conveniently sketched out, that it was too good to be true.

there’s a reason why two stray souls could only intersect, as they would eventually pass over each other at some point.

taglist: @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @farleighlover @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @inglourious-imagines

divider creds: @rookthornesartistry