#so much of the landscape was literally missing

[mikeyisbrooklyn]

Kept ya waiting, huh? Miss me?

Hoo boy, I think this is longer than both parts prior, at least it felt longer. (Speaking of, read both parts here: 1 2)

Feels good to get back to writing (three week sudden hiatus who? not me, haha please laugh). But with that said, let’s skip the foreplay and get straight to it, yeah?

Tags: @on-a-lucky-tide @etanesnil @jgvfhl @roachs-pet-roach

CW: mentions of sex (oral and anal) and gym injuries

Enjoy!

Why We Can’t Have Nice Things (3)

Eight weeks came and went, and unfortunately for Price, mind-numbingly so. In the first week, after enough grinning and bearing it and letting Nik pamper him (Price did not have to force himself to accept the expensive as hell cigars and whiskey), the pilot finally stopped hovering around him like he was a porcelain doll centimeters from the ledge. Weeks two and three consisted of what Price could only call tooth-rotting domesticity. The only meals Nik didn’t home make, were five coursers he had some American bloke fly in to make from them. There was more than a few instances of near quiet between Price and Nik—filled only by ambient sounds from inside the house like water flowing through pipes and outside like chirping birds and light winds—that never veered towards awkward, only peaceful. One morning, Price was (forcibly) carried to a beautiful garden out back where he lit up while Nik read, leading to Price resting his head onto Nik’s shoulder with Nik’s free hand idly carding through his hair.

The serenity of the moment was almost enough to convince Price it was a good thing he wasn’t back in his office working to catch the slippery bastard that evaded them, without nearly getting himself and his men killed this time. The peace almost made him forget that if he hadn’t fucked up so colossally, Nik wouldn’t have to be benched and wouldn’t have to be subtly checking him every other second like he was waiting for Price to keel over. The sappy romance of it all almost made him believe he deserved things so easy and pure.

Almost.

For all the endearing sincerity of the domestic moments, there were more than a few…erotic ones that Price was more than willing to allow as distractions. When a gaggle of men came by for landscaping, one tall, fit lad—a man with skin smooth as marble the shade of mahogany and half Price’s age—had taken off his shirt in the heat, revealing abs Price couldn’t have even dreamed of at his best. It caught Price’s eye from the window, of course, and though he knew he couldn’t be less interested, some people are impossible to look away from. Nik also noticed the man, but more so, he noticed how the man winked at Price once he had been staring for longer than 30 full seconds. When the Russian went outside, Price was half afraid (and half turned on) that Nik would break the lad’s jaw. Instead, he took off his own top and got to work with the law men. It’s not as if Price had anything else to do but even if he did, he was fully glued to the window by this point, forgetting all else but the powerful body obviously showing off for him. Price was all but literally drooling and knew exactly where he wanted to quench his thirst.

Later that night Nik was more than willing to give Price what he needed. There was never a question, but Price himself was more than willing to ensure Nik who he belonged to if the way he screamed his name was any indicator. Though, frustratingly, even sex couldn’t entirely distract Price from the war in his head as he could tell Nik was much gentler with him physically due to his leg. Nik valiantly attempted to mask it as another way to pamper Price but he could feel the restraint.

He didn’t intend it to, but it made Price pull away from Nik—not literally, the jaws of life couldn’t pry him away from that warm, fuzzy chest—it didn’t feel right to encourage Nik’s coddling of him. The pilot clearly meant no harm, but Price could feel the strain he was putting on his partner. So, Price stayed quiet as they caught their breath and did his damndest to hurry to sleep, maybe then he wouldn’t be stressing Nik out so much.

Week four was when Price started going to physical therapy. Nik gave him what he thinks are words of encouragement on the first ride to the therapist’s office. It was sweet but if anything heightened Price’s nerves. If he didn’t do well in physical therapy, they would likely extend his leave. The thought shook him to his core.

In reality, PT was dreadfully uneventful. The first few sessions were simple joint and motor control exercises—swinging his leg and rolling his knee, that kind of stuff. There was, disappointingly, still some soreness and discomfort in many spots. It shouldn’t have disappointed Price, he knew he wasn’t gonna walk any time soon, but still, knowing he was crutch bound was annoying to say the least.

Weeks five and six saw real progress being made. With every PT session he felt more and more comfortable using his leg, though he still couldn’t stand on it and apply very much pressure at all, it was better than he was before. The therapist attributed it to the rest Price was getting more than the exercises but Price wouldn’t tell Nik that lest the Russian go full nurse on him again and never let him leave his bed.

Speaking of, even with Price’s steadily increasing mobility, Nik was not seeming to get any less vigilant. It’s like he was waiting on Price to fall at any given moment. Price wanted to believe the man was just over worrying out of concern but he knew what Nik knew—that Price was a liability now—so he only went above and beyond in his exercises. Needed to prove him wrong. Needed to get better. If he hurt himself a little then no one had to know, especially as he mastered hiding his winces.

Week seven saw Price getting beyond antsy; as besides physical therapy, he had not left the house in weeks. Normally without work to focus on, he could go fishing, hit a pub, or hit a gym. Though right this instant, he knew he needed more physical activity than fishing could offer and he had ample liquor at his disposal thanks to Nik and still needed to get out of the damn house; so, gym it was. Nik initially wasn’t fully convinced it was a good idea, even after Price promised to stay light on his leg like the physical therapist ordered and focus his arms and chest. But Price did remember his mum joking with her friends about the three ways to a man’s heart—so after a full dinner, half a bottle of vodka, and a few minutes with his head between Nik’s legs, Price had managed to crack the Russian.

The gym was thus far the only thing to get him out of his head and keep him out. Something about the burn of each muscle as he worked it gave him something to hone in on. It certainly helped when Nik would join him and give him a sight to see. Watching the Russian throw weight around didn’t just give Price a problem in his joggers, but it was nice to see that Nik was still, well, Nik.

The Nik strong enough to hop out of his heli to help Price carry men too wounded to walk on their own was the same Nik repping 50kg bicep curls like it was nothing. The Nik so ready for anything he brought bags to dispose of bodies in an alley before Price had even asked was the same Nik that had his bag packed with spare clothes and protein bars and their water bottles already filled for the gym this morning before Price left the bed. The Nik who got the perfect arsenal fit just for Price like he could read his mind was the same Nik who not so subtly laid claim to a machine in the corner of the building, somewhere he knew Price wouldn’t be interrupted and could focus.

Seeing Nik still be Nik, even with Price crippled and burdensome as he was, felt like a pressure lifted off his ribcage—and he didn’t mean the barbell he was absentmindedly lifting off his chest. Maybe this is exactly what Price needed after all; to get out of his head, to see that he wasn’t some corruptive force, ruining his partner. Maybe he could just be a bloke who shattered his leg with a lover who jumped at the opportunity to care for him. The thought was…was nice. Maybe he could have this nice thi—

Price let out a strained yelp as the barbell came crashing down onto his chest. If he had been paying attention—or had a bloody spotter��he would’ve noticed his left wrist wobbling before it gave out. Guess he wasn’t as much out of his head as he thought. Luckily, he caught the weight before it fully crushed his torso but the sharp pain and winded sensation he felt confirmed that it was only just barely. Instinctively, Price rolled the weight to one side and ducked to the other, ending up arse over tea kettle next to the bench he had been on catching his breath with the bar rolling away.

At the sound, Nik turned and saw the state of Price—now flat on his back, eyes shut tight in pain and clutching his chest. “Chert voz’mi!” He threw the weight he was in the midst of lifting down and hurried over to Price’s prone form. “Mishka! Jonathan, what happened, are you alright?”

Price forced his eyes open and saw that wretched worry had made its way back onto Nik’s face. Price groaned and turned to roll over, whether in pain or embarrassment he wasn’t sure, but was stopped by two large warm hands on his shoulder.

“Nyet! Do not move!” Nik started feeling across Price’s body, clearly looking for wounds or blood. A large bruise was already forming in the space between his clavicle and left pectoral. “Blyat! I knew we should not have come here. I am no medic. Here, I will carry you to car, let a doctor see—“

“No!” Price stubbornly rolled away, forgetting about his still recovering leg and groaned in pain. Nik shouted his name and came over to him but Price kept his eyes screwed shut and stopped fighting, knowing that he looked more and more like a foolish brat or a stunted dunce rolling around on the gym floor with a fractured leg after nearly offing himself. The irony of this being the second time in as many months that his poor judgement was nearly his demise. No wonder Nik was looking at him like he was frail little thing as he scooped him into his arms.

There were a few worried gym goers and an attendee even offered to call an ambulance for Price, but Nik just held him tighter to his chest and waved them off as he carried Price and their bags back to the car. After carefully setting Price into the passenger seat and buckling him in, Nik took no time to buckle up himself and take off. Price finally turned over to look at Nik, the pilot visibly stressed.

“Nik, please, just—. ‘M fin—“

“You are NOT fine!” Nik yelled out a growl. Price’s eyes widened as he couldn’t recall the last time Nik had raised his voice at him, barring once in a club in Bosnia with speakers that apparently couldn’t be lowered under three thousand or so decibles. “You—you, I…” He was stuttering, and Price pretended he couldn’t see the way his lip quivered because there was no way he was actually seeing that—he would not believe it.

“Alright, ‘m not fine, yer right.” Price cut Nik off this time, “‘M all fuckin wrong but please don’t take me to the bloody doc. Please.” He put his hand on Nik’s forearm to get him to look him in the eye. Nik had a face between a kicked puppy and a rankled coyote.

Nik turned away and seemed to fight himself in his head before pulling off to the side of the road. “If I cannot take you to the hospital then who?”

“Who?”

“Who will care for you?” Nik looked at him like it was the most obvious thing. The Russian dragged a hand through his hair, “I know you do not like hospitals, that is why I took you in. Somewhere nice, or I had hoped. But you hate it there.”

“Nik, I don—“

“You do. You can not wait to leave it. And I understand, it does not suit you. So while there I try to distract you but you are always—your mind, it is elsewhere.”

“Nik—“

“Jonathan, I want to help but I am clearly not! You are hurt and I can do nothing but make it worse and I am sorry. Who—“ He took a deep, wet breath. “Who can I take you to that will take care of you better? Please tell me, rodnoy, I can handle it.”

Price hardly recognized the question. Too caught up on…on how wrecked Nik sounded, as if when the weight crashed on Price chest it was Nik that was crushed instead. Did…did Price make him feel this way? Fuck.

“Nik, I—fuck me…” Price rubbed his face with his hands as he let out a strained breath. “I— don’t think there’s anyone in the world who can take care of me, if ‘m honest.”

Nik became visibly more distressed at this. If there was ever a wrong thing to say to his emotionally devastated partner, count on John Price to find it. Price stuck a hand out before Nik could react.

“What I mean is—I’m not one to be cared for in the first place. You won’t find someone ‘better’ to care for me. So why don’t you just take a deep breath and take me back to the house, eh? You could ice my chest, check my leg—hell, even read me a bedtime story if you want.”

“That is—but you are not happy.”

“Of course ‘m not! I’ve been benched almost two months now! Never thought I’d miss paperwork this much. But it’s almost over, I’ve been counting the bloody days so I know it’s almost over. Then we’ll be back to normal.” I won’t be a damn burden anymore is what Price almost finished with.

“You counted th—right. Da, of course, you counted.” Nik let out a sigh. Frustratingly, Price could tell it wasn’t one of relief but he couldn’t tell what it was. “Okay. No hospital. But I will read you bedtime story.” And like that, he was back to normal.

Well, normal enough. Price could tell there was something there, but frankly, his chest hurt like hell and he’s all emotionally tuckered out, so he’ll look into it later if he needs to. “Knew I shouldn’t’a made that bedtime story joke.” Price grumbled but with no heat in his tone.

“Too late. As the sergeant would say, ‘no takesbacksies’.” Nik grinned to himself as he drove back onto the road. “Let me think, ah! Da, I know the perfect story: the Itsy Bitsy Spider.”

“Oh bloody hell!” Price groaned.

By week eight, Price was all but literally bouncing off the wall—only because if he were, it’d definitely fuck up his leg. Nik actually walked with him into hospital, not wanting to be a part after having to give Price space during the PT sessions. Sessions that Price got full marks on, much to his pride. Now it was just a matter of Dr. Omar giving a second approving opinion and final verdict. He felt like he was being court martial’d.

After a nurse kindly guided them to an empty room, Price sat in the bed—an uncharacteristic anxiety rolling off him. Nik next to him tighten his grip on Price’s hand and brought it to his lips.

“You will be fine, Mishka. Even if the good doctor advises more leave time, you will not die.”

Price dismissively harrumphed. “Agree to disagree.”

Dr. Omar didn’t keep them waiting too much longer. “Good morning, Captain Price, Mr. Nikolai.” She walked in clipboard in hand. Her tone was light and her face neutral; Price attempted to decipher if that was a good sign or not.

“Good morning, good doctor!” Nik greeted with a firm handshake.

“Mornin’ doc. Got good news for me?” Price cut straight to the point. He felt Nik tug on his hand, almost like a silent rebuke. Price did not acknowledge it.

“Always business with you, Captain.” She smiled, holding in a chuckle. “I understand, I can only imagine you’ve been itching to get back in the field.”

“More than you could ever know.”

“Well, then yes, I have good news.” She looked back at her clipboard. “According to this, you’ve been an excellent patient for the physical therapist.”

“You sound shocked. ‘Ave I been that bad a patient for you?” Price said, finally cracking a smirk of his own.

“It’d be unethical to lie to you and unprofessional to answer that question the way I’d like so I’ll plead the fifth, Captain.

At that, Nik got a hearty chuckle and even Price approved the cheeky shot with a soft laugh.

“As I was saying, the physical therapy seems to have gone well. I’m glad you took your recovery so seriously. I’ll ask you, how are you feeling, Captain Price?”

Price took in a breath debating saying what he thought would get him the result he wanted but thought better of it. For all he knew that would backfire immediately. Interestingly, on top of Dr. Omar’s eyes, he felt a pair of deep browns burning holes in the side of his head without even turning to see them. Sighing, “I feel fine. Some days have been better than others and there’s soreness here and there. As much as I’d like to be in tip top shape, I know I’ve still got a way to go ‘til 100%, doc.”

Dr. Omar smiled. “I appreciate the honesty, Captain, and based on what I’m reading, I’m inclined to agree.”

A hand grasp and release of breath to his right that Price is sure was done subconsciously confirmed that Nik shared a similar sentiment.

“Knowing what I know about your field of work, your medical history, the state of recovery, your age,” Dr. Omar continued, pausing at Price’s disgruntled grunt at the reference to his age, “you know it’s a factor like any other, Captain, don’t shoot the messenger. Anyway, I think you’re clear to go back to light work. Nothing extensive, definitely nothing in the battlefield—“

“Desk duty.” Price summarized for her.

“Desk duty.” Dr. Omar confirmed with a nod. “But it is me allowing you back as soon as you’d like.”

“That would be now.” Nik half-joked.

“Well, then don’t let me stop you! Let me get you some reading material and see what alterations or additions need to be made to your prescriptions and then get you outta here, Captain!” With that, she handed Price a thin packet and left the room.

Price sighed in relief. Nik moved his hand to Price’s shoulder and brought him into a side hug before lowering his lips to Price’s temple. In Nik’s arms, knowing he was minutes from medical freedom—sorta, Price felt for the first time in two months some semblance of normal. Though, he could tell that Nik’s grip around him still had the same tension as before, as if he thought Price would slip from his grasp. It was a reminder that he couldn’t get comfortable yet, couldn’t let his guard down. He knew that the moment he did, he’d do something to fuck it all up again. He wouldn’t let himself, not after the shitshow that was the last eight weeks, and all the stress he put Nik through.

Price would make it right. He’d get better, he’d be a liability no longer. He had to.

[tevintersoldier]

did i just buy inquisition game of the year edition on steam because it's on sale (90% off!!) and so cheap? yes. do i have anything to play it on? no. is this my fucking third copy of this game? ... yes

[phoenixcatch7]

Loz fandom stop being angsty and give the daydreaming kids on big fun adventures with a cool glowing sword some actual whimsy and joy challenge

[liquidchocolatecake]

currently captive audience to a knock down drag out fight in my brain between desire to respect the wishes of the creator and not look for anyone redistributing the comic and god i fucking miss wonderlab i miss wonderlab so much you have no idea i want wonderlab back so bad

[infizero]

im genuinely going to be INSUFFERABLE when chapters 3 and 4 come out like you have no idea.

[lavenderspence]

Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 

“You called.” He answered simply. 

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!

[sturniolohouse]

Anniversary in the Cape - M.S

A/N: hey so, i feel CRAZY after writing this. this is truly an example of the duality of my writing... also, i'm sorry if there's any typos, i've proofread a ton and even stuck this bitch in grammarly but i could have missed something. she's looonnnng, so get some wine (if legal) and some popcorn and enjoy!!!!!! ALSO, ALSO, minors!!! DNI!!!! pls and thank you. :)

summary: matt and reader take their relationship to the next level, going on an overdue vacation to the cape for their anniversary.

warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected do not recommend), spanking, choking, matt being hot, uhhh idk

word count: 5.8k

song: stargazing - the neighborhood

'started with a spark, now we're on fire'

"And you're sure your parents were okay with us using the car and the house?" I ask looking at him focus on the road in front of him.

"Yes, baby. For the one-hundredth time, they don't mind. Quit worrying, this is our vacation," He looks at me quickly, taking a hand off the wheel to meet my thigh and squeeze it lightly.

"I know, I'm just nervous," I admit softly and he turns to me with wide playful eyes.

"Nervous! Why the hell are you nervous?" He laughs in bewilderment, and I roll my eyes, shrugging slightly.

"I mean, obviously we've been alone before, but we've never been away just the two of us," I explain.

"Yeah, and I'm fucking ecstatic about it. Like you said, no interruptions, quiet house, on the cape...possibilities are endless." He says looking at me with a small suggestive smile growing on his face.

Of course, Matt and I get alone time. Do we get as much as we would like? No.

It's difficult finding time for ourselves when Matt lives with his brothers and my roommates are hermits.

Which I never saw as an issue, because I honestly don't mind spending time with Chris and Nick whenever I'm by their place–which is often. I was actually friends with all of them way before Matt and I began dating. 

But when Matt brought up the last time we had gone on a real date, it had been months.

"No, I know. I'm excited too, it's just a new step in our relationship and it feels very...adult? I don't know, I sound silly," I shake my head and he squeezes my thigh again before grabbing my hand.

"Hey, I know what you mean, and you don't sound silly." He softens a bit to reassure me before kissing the back of my hand. My heart warms at his gesture and I squeeze his hand. 

"I'm excited to show you one of my favorite places, I still can't believe you've never been. I literally grew up here." He changes the subject as he switches lanes and I see the sign indicating Cape Cod is less than a mile away.

We flew into Boston by ourselves yesterday afternoon and spent the night at his parent's house. It was Matt's idea, saying he didn't mind taking the drive as it wasn't too far from his house in Somerville. 

"Are you finally going to tell me what we're doing?" I rub circles into the back of his hand with my thumb.

His mouth quirks to one side pensively but he laughs as soon as he hears me sigh impatiently. 

"Okay, okay, you really wanna know?" He drawls out, turning to glance at me for a moment then turning back to the road. 

"You know I wanna know," I lean over the divider and stare into the side of his face. He smirks a bit, side-eyeing me a few times before humming. 

"Hmm, I think I'll leave you squirming a little longer," He says after a moment.

He exits the highway and I huff, slumping back into my seat.

This place looks like something straight out of a storybook.  

The green, hilly scenery takes my breath away. Matt shows me the main street, driving past the historic houses and buildings as families and couples walk down the street. When we round the bend, the dense trees become few and far between and the lush green landscape dissolves into tall grass, sand, and rock as the ocean comes into view.

We drive along the coast the rest of the way and I just stare in awe at the cozy beach town as Matt tells stories of growing up here in the summer. 

"That house at the end is the family house," He points to the one on the left.

Pulling into the driveway, Matt puts the car in park before cutting the engine. I go to open my door but he stops me, putting a finger up and getting out of the car himself.

I give him a questioning look before I see him jog to the other side of the car to open my door for me.

"And they say chivalry is dead," I shake my head jokingly and he shrugs with a smirk.

I get out of the car and lean up to give him a quick kiss, we're smiley and giddy when we pull apart. He gives me another kiss before handing me a key.

"Go head inside, I'll grab our bags," He says softly against my lips and I nod quickly.

As I walk past him to make my way to the front door, I feel a light slap to my ass. I go to give him a playful disapproving look, but he's already opening the trunk to grab our stuff and acting like nothing happened.

The house is small and charming.

It belongs to their grandparents and has been the family vacation home for decades. The colorful wind chimes on the front porch sing with the soft breeze. I breathe in the salty air and walk towards the steps leading to the front door.

I twist the key to open the door and I'm engulfed with a warm, inviting scent. There are tons of family pictures on the walls and my heart swells at the baby pictures of the triplets.

I can easily spot Matt in a picture of the three of them on the beach, probably around four or five years old.

Seeing photos of them as children always blows my mind because of how identical they looked.

Matt comes in with our bags, noticing me looking at the photos on the wall.

"You were so fucking cute as a kid," I say going to grab my duffel from him but he takes my hand instead, leading me down the hall to the bedroom.

"Am I not cute now?" He pretends to be offended.

"Eh," I joke back and he opens the door at the end of the hall.

"This is our bedroom, the bathroom is next door on the left," He nods behind us toward the hall.

The bedroom is a pale seafoam green color, the bed adorned with a vintage patchwork quilt lined with a ruffle trim. The room has more family photos hung on the walls and beach-themed decor.

"We can unpack now and then head to the store to grab something for dinner and the next few days. There's definitely no food here. Sound good?" He places our bags on the bed and turns to me, placing his hands on his hips.

He wears a backward camo Boston Red Sox hat, a black tee with a silver chain around his neck, jean shorts, and white New Balance sneakers.

I must have been ogling him for too long because he snaps his fingers in front of my face with a smug expression.

"D'ya hear me, kid, or are you too busy eye-fucking me?" He smiles, licking his lips, and I feel a deep blush bloom from my chest up to my neck.

"Not my fault my boyfriend is so hot," I shrug, trying to recover from his playful callout, and he rolls his eyes, blushing himself.

He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his middle, placing my head over his heart as we settle into a moment of comfortable silence.

An intrusive thought takes over, and I squeeze him tighter against me. I hear him groan at the sudden pressure of my grip, and he grabs hold of my arms.

"Okay, okay. Enough with the cuteness-aggression. You're going to break my ribs, kid," He wheezes.

I let up only after he tickles my sides. I squeal as he chases me to the other side of the bed and I finally surrender and ask for mercy. He slaps my ass and tells me I'll pay for it later.

We unpack our stuff and head out to the store to get ingredients for tacos. The one and only thing I've tried to improve in Matt is his cooking skills.

When we first got together, it was concerning how little he knew about cooking along with the number of times a week he'd eat out. I changed that real fast, teaching him basic meals he could make himself that were quick and pretty foolproof. Tacos were one of them.

"Go shower, I'll start dinner." He tells me, putting all of the groceries on the counter.

"You sure you can handle it?" I tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I've gotten better. Didn't you like the salmon I made you the other week?" He points his finger at me and I roll my eyes.

"Yes, my love, I was very proud of you." I lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, "I'll be quick," I say before going to take my long-awaited shower.

As the hot water cascades over my shoulders, I can't help but let my thoughts drift. This trip is a huge step for us, and despite my nerves, I know it was a much-needed and deserved trip.

We don't really have an anniversary only because we both don't remember the specific date and we never made our being official a big deal. It's never been our style.

But we decided this would be a getaway for our 'anniversary' as next month will be our second summer together.

I finish up and wrap myself in a towel, savoring the lingering warmth before I quickly get dressed. I smell the scent of sizzling meat and spices coming from the kitchen.

When I reach the kitchen, I can't help but smile at the sight of Matt carefully chopping lettuce. His brows furrowed and his tongue poked out in serious concentration.

"Smells amazing in here," I comment, leaning against the doorway.

Matt looks up startled a bit, dropping the knife and putting a hand over his heart. A proud grin quickly spreads across his face when he realizes it's just me.

"You fuckin' scared me. I'm almost done, just need to heat up the tortillas." He gestures for me to come over, and I do, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.

"You're getting good at this," I compliment, kissing his shoulder as he flips the tortillas.

"Only because I have a great teacher," he replies, turning his head to kiss my cheek.

I help set the table while Matt finishes up. We sit down to eat, the atmosphere cozy and intimate. The tacos are actually delicious, and I make sure to shower Matt with compliments for his efforts. We pop open the sparkling apple cider Mary-Lou and Jimmy gave as a parting gift to us. Digging through the cupboards, we end up finding old plastic flutes to make a quick toast with.

"Here's to us, thank you for making each day brighter. To many more days with you, I love you very much," I say simply, raising my glass. He gets shy and smiley but clinks our glasses.

I can't help but smile at him as he blushes and tries to hide it. I lean in for a kiss and he immediately gives me one.

"I love you more," He whispers against me, pulling me onto his lap and giving me a deeper kiss. "I would say something too, but I don't want to sound stupid,"

"Hush, I already know you're madly in love with me. You made me bomb ass tacos," I joke, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him into my chest. He giggles and kisses my collarbone.

After dinner, we go to the backyard to watch what's left of the sunset. We put a lawn chair by the water and sit together watching the orange horizon disappear behind the shoreline. The hues of blues and purples melt together in the sky until it grows darker and the moonlight casts a silvery glow on the water.

The sound of the waves is soothing, our breathing in sync as I sit in his lap, his hand drumming lightly on my hip.

"This will continue to be my favorite place, I'm glad I get to share it with you." Matt says, his voice soft and contemplative.

"Thank you for sharing it with me," I reply, squeezing his hand. "I'm really happy we came."

"Me too." He turns to face me, his blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. He goes deep in thought for a moment and he almost goes to say something but stops himself.

I give him a questioning look and nudge him lightly.

"What was that?" I ask gently and he shakes his head.

"Nothing," He tries to brush it off but I grab his chin and turn his face toward me.

"Didn't seem like it," I play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I don't wanna freak you out," he says lowly and I give him a pressing look before he sighs deeply, finally giving in.

"I was just imagining our future. I can just see us, you know, bringing our kids here in the summers. They'd grow up with memories of this place like I do," he admits, staring directly at the water as he confesses his inner thoughts.

My heart tightens with emotion at his statement.

"You think about stuff like that?" My voice cracks, tears stinging my eyes and he immediately snaps his head to look at me.

"Hey, why are you crying?" He looks worried, cupping my cheek and using his thumb to catch a tear falling.

"Of course, I think of 'stuff like that' though. Does that scare you?" His voice laced with uncertainty and I shake my head immediately at his foolish question.

"No, no," I say softly, running my hand through his hair tenderly, then tracing his face. Starting from his left eyebrow, down his cheekbone, and over the scruff on his jaw.

His eyes flutter at my soft touch and he grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

"It's actually really sweet, Matt. I didn't think you'd want things like that with me, a family..." I admit and his eyes widen at my foolishness.

"Sweetheart, I hope you know you're it for me. Pretty sure if you ever decide one day you're sick of me, I'll spend the rest of my fucking life alone." He tells me openly and I blubber at his sweet words that pierce my heart more.

"Stop crying," He laughs lightly, getting slightly nervous by my reaction but I try to compose myself.

"You wanna have babies with me," I squeak, crying more and he tosses his head back in laughter as I continue to be a mess.

"Yes, I want 'babies' with you. If you want babies," He smiles, continuing to wipe my tears. "Okay, I love you, but you have snot all over your face," he says motioning all over his face with his finger and I gasp covering my nose.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Now, no more tears" He says and I roll my eyes, hitting his shoulder lightly, laughing a little bit now.

"They're happy tears. I just love you, a lot. It's overwhelming sometimes," I bury my face into his neck and he rubs my back soothingly as I actually compose myself.

I must be severely PMS-ing because I'm never this emotional.

"I know what you mean," He says, my heart swelling once more. "It scares me how much I love you." He kisses my hair but I lift my head for a real one.

We share a tender kiss, the ocean breeze wrapping around us like a comforting embrace.

"I can see it too by the way. Having a family. But way, way in the future," I say when I pull away, fixing the hair on his forehead.

"Oh, yeah for sure. Although, shit happens, who knows." He shrugs and I raise my eyebrow.

"Well, thanks to modern science and my IUD, no kids for at least ten years," I say and his eyes widen a bit.

"Okay, ten years is kinda a long time..." He trails off, catching me off guard.

"Matt!" I say in shock.

"I'm kidding!" He laughs.

. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ˖

Matt walks into the room after brushing his teeth just as I'm taking the throw pillows off the bed and pulling back the duvet.

I feel his arms wrap around me from behind and his face buries into my neck. He places open-mouth kisses on the curve of my neck, making his way up to my ear, where he grazes his teeth lightly.

I sigh, shuddering at the sensation and allowing my head to fall back against his shoulder.

He puts both hands on my hips this time, pulling my backside into his crotch. I moan at the feeling of him already hardening against me and I press my legs together in anticipation.

"I like this, no one around to interrupt...just us," His voice is velvet and I melt into his hold.

I hum, "Yeah, it's nice," My voice is airy.

"Can be as loud as we want, too..." He chuckles lowly, as I feel one of his hands sneak beneath my sleep shirt.

His fingertips delicately dance up my stomach, barely even touching my skin. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, yearning for his touch.

His hand stops right below my breast and I whine when he doesn't touch me further. I arch hoping to make more contact with his hand, but he doesn't give it to me.

"Matt," I say almost as a whisper, a plea.

"Mm," He hums, returning to kissing my neck. I can hear and feel the smug grin on his face, he knows what game he's playing.

"Touch me," I whine, arching again and lifting myself to reach his hand.

He finally cups my breast, taking my nipple in between his fingers and I gasp as he tugs and pinches gently.

He sucks on my ear lightly, giving it a kitten lick before blowing cold air. I spin around in his hold, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into me.

The kiss was explosive, and we both let out a breath we didn’t realize we were holding.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling our hips flush together and leaning into the kiss more, forcing me to bend back.

In the heat of the moment, we stumble back onto the bed behind us clumsily, my butt slipping off the edge of the bed. I yelp when I almost fall, and laugh into the kiss. Our teeth clink together momentarily as he chuckles too.

He grabs under my thighs, lifting me further onto the bed as I make room for him to settle between them.

"That's better," He breathes out before kissing me again, laying me down on the cool linen sheets.

I revel in the feeling of his weight on top of me, our hips perfectly puzzled together, my hands running through his soft hair, while his rest on my hips.

I tug at the roots of his hair to elicit a delicious sound from him, something primal and guttural.

He squeezes my hips and pulls back to look down at me with half-lidded eyes. His pupils are so blown out you can barely make out the icy blue of his irises.

He keeps eye contact with me as he makes his way lower, lifting my sleep shirt above my breasts. My nipples pebble and harden as they're exposed to the cool air. He places wet kisses down my sternum, then my stomach until he reaches right above my cotton underwear.

He kneels on the floor so he's perfectly aligned in front of my core, his fingers play with the band of my underwear and he smiles to himself shaking his head.

I lean up on my elbows, "What?" I can't help but smile back.

"Kittens?" He raises his eyebrows and smirks at me.

I shrug, not ashamed in the slightest at the pattern of my underwear.

"Yeah, you like 'em?" I deadpan, but break into a grin when he tips his head back and laughs.

Endearingly, of course.

"Very sexy," he replies, and I shriek as he yanks me to the very edge of the bed.

He slips his fingers into the hem of my underwear, finally pulling them down my legs and discarding them. He lightly slaps the inside of my thigh before prying them apart and pinning them.

Just as quick as we're joking about my underwear, I'm back to trembling under his touch.

Completely exposed to him now, he teases me, kissing my inner thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.

My hips buck at the gentle assault but he keeps me in place, stunting my movements.

"Patience..." he chides and I roll my eyes.

He slaps my thigh a little harder this time and I hiss, my core pulsing at the act. He licks a stripe on each crease of my thigh, purposely ignoring my aching cunt.

His thumbs spread my lips apart before he collects my arousal using it to circle my clit. I whimper at the contact, stopping myself from bucking my hips again.

Matt's in a trance, mouth agape, eyes heavy, as he continues to tease me and I become more and more restless.

Almost as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, he finally buries his head between my thighs. He hungrily licks from my entrance up to my clit, before sucking on my swollen nub like I'm a honeysuckle.

"Fuck," I gasp under my breath, squirming under his grip. My breath shallowed and my heart stuttered.

"I told you, we could be as loud as we want," He slurs against me, flattening his tongue against me and shaking his head side to side quickly.

I let go of a whine before snapping my legs around his head, overwhelmed by pleasure. He growls, immediately prying them back open and relentlessly swirling his tongue against me.

I grab a hold of the hair at the crown of his head as he continues to drink me in. Skillfully lapping every inch of my folds, knowing exactly what to do to get me wound up in merely minutes.

I feel the build-up of my first orgasm, all my muscles going taut as I begin to shake uncontrollably.

Matt knows that I'm about to come, so he pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his fingers. He slips his ring and middle fingers inside me with ease, massaging my front wall and coaxing my orgasm out of me with each gentle drag.

"Oh my fucking god," I cry out, my hips moving with his fingers.

He stands above me now, swiping my hair away from my face and gently caressing my cheekbone. I grab onto his bicep beside me as he leans down to kiss me, swallowing my whimpers. 

"C'mon, baby. I can feel you squeezing the fuck outta my fingers. Come for me," His voice is a gentle command against my jaw. 

His mouth attaches to my nipple as his thumb smushes into my puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, stimulating me everywhere.

That's all it takes before the wave peaks, then crashes and floods of icy-hot, blinding pleasure courses through me. He moans against me as he feels me pulse and ooze around his fingers.

My nails dig into his bicep and I arch into him, my hips mindlessly riding out the pleasure as his name falls from my lips in a desperate, broken cry.

His mouth and fingers gently work me through the aftershocks before I'm grabbing his wrist and whining from the sensitivity. 

"You're so fucking hot," He breathes, kissing me again.

I exhale into him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him down onto me.

He pulls back, tossing his shirt off his head and undoing his belt, looking down at me as I lay half-naked and panting. I lean up on my elbows and move myself further up the bed.

He's only in his black boxers now, placing a knee on the bed before crawling towards me.

"Wanna taste you," I say, reaching up to kiss his neck and he lets out a shaky breath.

He shakes his head, "I won't fucking make it," he pants, grabbing my jaw and claiming my mouth again.

He pulls back, "As much as I love this fucking mouth," He adds darkly, tracing my swollen lips before licking them sensually and kissing me deeper.

I moan at the kiss and the feel of his cold rings against my hot skin. I run my hands down his chest as our breathing picks up, the kiss becoming more heated.

I run my tongue along his bottom lip and he allows me in before moving his hand down from my jaw to my neck, squeezing gently.

I pull back this time to take my shirt off, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I then hook my fingers in the band of his boxers and pull them down just enough to free him. His dick springs up, the tip so red it looks painful.

I spit into my hand before taking him into my hand and giving him a couple of strokes, swiping his weeping tip with my thumb. He whimpers at the touch before grabbing my wrist and making me release him.

I pout, bringing my thumb to my mouth to suck off his precum. His mouth falls agape at the sight, and his eyes screw shut as he falls onto one of his hands weakly.

"What's wrong?" I make sure my voice is dripping like sweet, gooey honey. Tempting a very hungry grizzly bear.

He grits his teeth, straightening himself back up on his knees in front of me. I look up at him, my hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

"You're going to be the death of me," His voice is gritty, and I tilt my head innocently. I yelp when he grabs my hips and flips me over.

It's moments like these that remind me of his surprising strength.

He pulls me onto my knees so my cheek is pressed into the mattress and my ass is elevated, leaving me exposed and shaking with anticipation.

His hand comes down onto my asscheek and I hiss at the sting. I feel his dick poke the back of my thigh as his hand smooths over my ass to ease the burn.

"Matt, please," I pant when he kisses down my spine and I push my hips back impatiently.

"Need my cock that bad, hm?" he murmurs against my skin and I nod quickly.

"Need you inside me, please," I whine, not caring how desperate I sound, only focused on how his low chuckle makes my core pulse around nothing.

"Yeah?" He croons and my breath hitches when I feel him run his tip along my aching pussy. Knocking against my clit with each teasing stroke.

"Yes-" I whimper and then gasp when I feel the familiar, delicious stretch of him.

I grip the sheets as he grips my hips harshly, slowly entering me.

"Fuuuck," He strains out, and I can picture the vein in his neck protruding, wishing I could lick it.

He fills me completely, his hips flush against my ass. I whimper as I feel him buried deep inside me, hitting a sensitive spot that turns my legs into jelly.

He begins guiding me in a gentle rhythm, slow and deliberate, determined to make this last. His thrusts are deep, intentionally angling down to hit the spot that he knows makes me see stars.

"You feel so fucking good, so deep," I praise him and he slightly picks up the pace.

My core tightens around him involuntarily and he hisses, his grip on my hip becoming almost painfully tight.

"Fuck, don't do that. I'll come too fast," He pulls back slightly, trying to steady himself.

"I don't care," I push back against him again, just wanting to feel him.

He curses under his breath, his hands firm on my hips to stop my movements. He pulls me up by my hair, my back against his chest now and I laugh maniacally before moaning at the fresh angle.

"Must you always be so defiant?" His breath is hot against my ear and I can't help the grin on my face. I love getting him riled up.

"I like it when you push me around," I admit, my voice dripping with playful challenge.

He releases his grip on my hair, and I catch myself on my hands, bracing for whatever comes next.

"Yeah? You like it when I'm rough?" He presses, his voice low and taunting.

"Mhm," I hum pressing my hips back again but he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty.

I go to whine in protest but I'm shut up with the hardest slap of the night, right on top of the red mark he left before.

I cry out and bury my face into the sheets again, but quiver with longing for more.

"That's what you wanted, right?" He continues to taunt and spanks me again but this time, on the other side.

I moan and go to rub my clit for some sort of relief but he grabs both my wrists, knocking me down further.

Another smack. I groan this time in frustration.

He gathers my wrists in one hand as I feel him lean over me. His hand sneaks around to find my neck as he presses his mouth against my ear.

"Are you just that fucking desperate?" He queries, his fingers pressing into my pulse points, just enough for my head to lighten.

"Please, Matt." I plea, but don't exactly know what I'm pleading for.

"What's the matter, baby, you can't handle it anymore? Thought you liked me pushing you around," He tuts.

His free hand lifts my hips before he teases my entrance with his tip and I let out a shaky breath.

"Hm? Nothing to say?" He pushes his tip in but pulls back and I whine at the teasing.

He releases my neck to brush my hair away so he can see the side of my face. A reminder that he's still the caring Matt I love.

"Just fuck me, please," I beg and he sighs deeply.

"You're so fucking lucky I love you,” he says through his teeth before he drives into me again in one swift motion.

Both of us moan in relief, the tension finally being broken.

He grinds his hips down into me teasingly and my eyes roll back at the intense, tight angle.

I feel his body heat leave my back as he straightens out behind me. Placing his hands on my lower back, he leans forward causing my back to arch before slamming into me. Again and again and again.

Each breath is knocked out of me, and each blow is deeper than the last, discovering a new spot inside of me and pushing me closer and closer to the edge. His pace quickens with every approving sound I make, answering me with his own moans of approval.

He turns me onto my back, staying inside me, wrapping my leg around his waist before leaning forward to kiss me slowly.

"Mm, missed your face," he admits softly, his thrusts starting off slow but steadily increasing momentum. "Wanna see that pretty face when I make you come," he coos, and I shriek at a particularly hard thrust that sends me further up the bed.

He watches my face the entire time, studying every furrow, every eye roll, mirroring my expressions as if he can feel everything he is doing to me.

I can tell he's trying to distract himself, to last longer, slowing down to kiss me and then picking up the pace.

My second orgasm build-up is slower and more subtle. It almost comes out of nowhere, but he knows my body so well. He reaches down to stimulate my clit, deepening his strokes, driving me to the brink.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh-" My back arches, and my ears ring as my orgasm rips me apart.

"Good girl, fucking come for me–oh fuck. I'm coming–I'm gonna come. W-where do you want me to-" He rushes out, as my pussy continues to spasm around him.

Through my haze, I push my heels into his hips and grab the back of his neck.

"I-inside, come inside me," I pant and he shudders, whimpering.

"Oh my–fucking, fuck," He strains as he comes and I moan at the feeling of him filling me up.

He pushes as deep as he can inside me, and the aftershocks of my orgasm milk him further causing him to hiss.

He collapses into my collarbone, his hair drenched in sweat as he takes a moment to regain strength.

I place a hand in his hair and scratch his back lightly as we settle into a steady breathing rhythm.

"Holy fuck," he says eventually into my neck, laughing a little and I giggle too.

"Wait, wait don't laugh-" He pulls away with his face scrunched and I realize he's still inside me.

He hisses again in sensitivity, looking down at where we're connected before pulling out of me carefully. I whimper at the feeling and he softly apologizes.

I feel his come leak out of me and I watch his expression falter for a second as he notices the sight.

"Fuck me," he says under his breath, shaking his head and I bite my lip to stop myself from giggling.

I slowly reach my hand down to play with myself and his eyes widen as he quickly grabs my hand to stop me.

"Are you trying to kill me tonight? No, I'm cleaning you up and we're going to bed. Stay right there, don't fucking move." He gets up, pointing at me as he walks away.

I cover my mouth and laugh at his reaction. He comes back with a wet washcloth, using it to wipe me carefully.

He huffs out again, shaking his head and I give him a knowing look.

"Devil woman, don't look at me like that." He tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks with nerves.

"I love you," I tell him, meaning it. His eyes soften and he leans over me, a hand on either side of my head. He scans my face, a soft smile carves into his face before he leans down to kiss me.

"We really need our own place," he says when he pulls back and my stomach flips.

"What was that?" I ask him with wide eyes.

"I said we really need a shower, c'mon," He lies, laughing as he tries to pull me up but I'm tugging him back towards me.

'Hey, get back here. That's not what you said," I laugh at his antics but he runs away towards the bathroom before I hear him call back.

"I plead the fifth!"

[ybklix]

BROOKLYN BABY

★ pairing: rockstarbf!hyunjin x fem!reader

✦summary: Your boyfriend’s pretty cool, plays guitar and is in a popular band. You love to support him, yet you can't help but feel jealous and insecure at the sight of all his fans and the groupies the rest of the members bring backstage.

✭ content - tags - warnings: MDNI, smut, established relationship, fluff, fingering, oral sex

word count: 3.7k

•masterlist•

♡ inspiration:

a/n: happy late ultraviolence day, my fav album, no one loves her like i do lolol, so here’s a little smth, i'll write more inspired by the rest of the songs omg i love my fav child

Hyunjin was a romantic, unlike the rest of his band members, who enjoyed the excess, success and fame that grew more and more every day. He was in charge of writing each of the songs that thrilled thousands of teenagers since he had such an idealized perception of love and loved to romanticize every detail as well as he was in charge of designing each artistic design of the album because of his skills in drawing and painting, he was a sensitive artist, born under a water sign, trying to give the image of a tough and sexy guy for the good of the band. His position was to be the lead guitarist and backing voice for the lead vocalist, yet everyone in the band contributed vocally, grabbing the audience like no other band in that year in the nineties. The crazy nineties, everyone loved rock and roll with the same intensity as the seventies and this time more styles were explored. Everyone loved your boyfriend's band.

You were lucky enough to meet him when they were still newbies with big dreams performing in bars, where Hyunjin claims to have fallen in love with you at first sight, however, his shyness got the best of him and he didn't dare to talk to you and, it wasn't until a month later that, in a jazz club in Brooklyn, in one of the poetry sessions and nights, almost by fate, he met you again, he couldn't miss the opportunity and finally approached you, he seemed so cute and strangely his face seemed so familiar to you, it was about the handsome guitarist you saw once.

Hyunjin didn't have a specific favorite band, he took inspiration from the greats, he enjoyed everything from Nirvana to Guns n' Roses, to classics like Led Zeppelin, he was frequently talking to you on the phone to tell you about his obsession of the week musically, the most recent one, Chris Isaak. Two months ago he started his official tour around the country, which you couldn't accompany him no matter how much you wanted to, the university stopped you. Yet you still supported him from afar and watched every TV show he went on and every radio station with his interviews, you were so happy for him. His most recent appearance was on MTV, he looked like a celebrity, but he was still your sweet and tender Jinnie. And finally he was coming back to close the tour at his hometown in New York City, where it all started for you.

You, unlike Hyunjin, were more down to earth, honest and not afraid to stand up for your beliefs, so you studied law, with an uncontrollable passion for shy lyrics. In contrast to your parents, both rock and roll lovers, artists, your mother was a tarot amateur and identified herself as a spiritual person, your father a landscape painter, both met at a music festival the same amount of years ago as your older brother's age, a Manhattan novelist; yet you grew up in an environment where support was always constant and your personality developed being totally different from your boyfriend's, bold and daring, born under a sign of fire.

You loved Hyunjin, together you were literally like fire and water, and finally you could see him again after so long, you missed him too much, you missed when his band was still small and you spent days in his apartment watching him play the guitar, how he held you by the waist and kissed your neck while you combed your hair to go to college, every little detail that from one day to another changed.

Because of your schedule you couldn't meet your boyfriend at the airport and you could barely stand in the front row, waiting for them to come out and play. You wanted to go backstage to wish him luck, run into his arms and kiss him, after so long and only surviving on phone calls. But, for the first time you were terrified to be in the crowd and you didn't want to lose your place in the front row next to your boyfriend's position, although you thought for seconds if you should go closer and watch the concert from backstage… you were so indecisive and you never visualized your boyfriend's manager to authorize you to enter… you pouted and in a matter of minutes the venue was filling up more, you noticed how, among the crowd and entering easily, three girls were standing next to you. You couldn't help but notice them, they were wearing skirts and cleavage-baring tops, their eyeliner was sharp and perfect, you felt a little inferior and slightly less attractive for a second.

And the show started, the lights went down, and you heard your boyfriend's guitar, the people started to scream and your heart accelerated, the lights turned on, illuminating individually each one of the four members and, among them was your boyfriend, looking as good as always, his long black hair, his red guitar and wearing a gray sleeveless shirt attached to his body with ripped jeans and black combat boots, you noticed he was wearing the necklace you gave him before he went away from you to start the tour and… suddenly your world came to a standstill, there was only Hyunjin in front of you, doing what he is most passionate about.

Hyunjin, once he started to play, he looked for you with his eyes without stopping until he found you in front of him, his smile got bigger, he was smiling like he had never done in another concert, he felt so full. He winked at you and continued with his show, moving his fingers with agility, a young and gifted guitarist with talent, so did Rolling Stone described him in a small article; a little more than an arduous hour of concert later, Hyunjin finished agitated and slightly sweaty and, among the emotion, the only thing he asked to make the night more beautiful, was to be able to hug you. Until he finally did it, he had to go backstage with the rest of the group, but his manager took care to guide you discreetly to the room behind the stage, at the same time you noticed the same three girls next to you walking next to you, to which you understood instantly that they were groupies, you sighed, you could not help but get upset at the fleeting thought that… maybe Hyunjin has had his own groupie before.

Among the darkness of the venue, you finally found the light, the lit room and, there, your boyfriend standing there with a nervous smile waiting for you, your jealousy vanished in seconds, you couldn't be mad at him, he looked so cute with his little sparkling eyes and a shirt over his shoulders trying to dry his sweat. You ran to him and hugged him no matter how soaked he was, it was part of his routine. You felt his lean frame next to your body and warm chest bump against yours, oh, Hyunjin, you had missed him too much.

“I missed you” Hyunjin spoke, his chin resting on your shoulder, holding you tightly.

“I missed you, too” you replied breathlessly, you were so excited to see him.

You slowly pulled apart and he had to kiss you, so he took your face in his hands and did it delicately and passionately, in such a unique way he knew how to do it.

You both smiled at each other as you pulled apart.

“You should have come with me next time, oh god, the west coast is… so different, I think we should move to California once you finish college, love. They offered me a house in Hollywood” Hyunjin blurted out suddenly excited and overstimulated to have you near him.

You laughed softly at his adorable reaction, the way his cheeks went up, narrowing his eyes more, his smile, hiding his upper lip and showing his teeth, ready to speak again.

“I have an interview for Rolling Stone in a few minutes, but after that I'm all yours, I promise, let's get you to say hi to the guys” Hyunjin spoke softly taking you by the hand.

You happily walked into the place, but your smile faded as you saw one of the girls wildly kissing the lead vocalist, Han, on one of the couches while she was sitting on his lap. Another girl on the drummer's lap as he sat behind the instrument and the bassist talking animatedly with another girl.

“Hey, guys” you said shyly trying not to interrupt something.

The members came out of their trances and greeted you.

“Do you want something to drink?” Hyunjin tried to distract you with a tender smile.

“I'll get it, love” you smiled at Hyunjin giving him a quick kiss on his full lips and headed to the drink table.

Hyunjin made himself comfortable on an elongated couch, alone, and waiting for you.

“And you, Hyunjin, if you had the chance to smoke and chat with any singer who would it be with?” one of the girls came dangerously close to Hyunjin, plopping down on the couch very close to him, placing her hand on his thigh.

You turned around, with the two drinks in your hands and suddenly saw the scene of the girl near your boyfriend, making you squint your eyes in annoyance.

“I don't smoke. I don't know… Steven Tyler maybe” stood Hyunjin uncomfortably and walked to your direction, giving you a tender smile and taking one of the glasses.

“God, his daughter is beautiful, we saw her at that club in L.A., didn't we? A pretty, educated girl” added Chris, the drummer.

“The correct answer is Bon Jovi, he's too good looking, who wouldn't want to talk to him?” commented Changbin, the bass player.

Los Angeles, you thought, just California that Hyunjin told you so passionately about a few moments ago… you couldn't help but think of ideas not good at all, you were jealous, upset and a little hurt. You knew Hyunjin would never do anything to hurt you… or would he?

You looked at him, he understood your look instantly, he knew you as well as every string of his favorite precious guitar and tried to pull you away from them, taking you to his dressing room, ready to calm you down and be more in privacy. Hyunjin knew you were easily angered, you tried to be a cute and docile girlfriend but you couldn't. He recognized your annoyed expression, making him bite his lip undecided what to say.

“Those girls are always with you?” you spat annoyed.

“Y/n…” tried to reassure you Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin have you been with a groupie?” you blurted out suddenly staring him straight in the eyes defiantly.

You weren't thinking clearly, anger took over you, you were aware that it happened every time they finished a concert, or at least you want to think it's like that for the rest of the members who are single, but seeing it with your own eyes made your blood boil at the thought of a girl near your boyfriend trying to seduce him. The life of a rock star girlfriend wasn't for you, you wanted Hyunjin all to yourself.

“You know I wouldn't do that… I waited every day for you, I thought every day about you” Hyunjin replied, taking your glass and leaving it on a small table over there just like his drink.

Hyunjin searched for your gaze, you didn't want to see him, you were behaving a bit childish but his words could be a lie, after all he was a rising star. He grabbed your forearm, squeezing them gently between his large hands and you turned to look at him. His tender but manly face of compassion, his thick eyebrows making the slightest expression of concern, if you didn't love him too much you would have trust issues, but you believed Hyunjin blindly.

You approached up to him and hugged him, he reciprocated the happy gesture, your heartbeats joining and the closeness of your body, Hyunjin was so in love that if there was a way to make you do it clearly, he would do it without thinking. Sex was not enough, he wanted to live inside you forever and he was so passionate about it that he wrote countless songs, you were his muse and the great love of his life.

You stood on your tiptoes and brought your arms up to wrap around his neck with a smile.

“Tomorrow, let's go to your favorite place in Greenwich Village, okay?” you said to him, letting your frustrations pass you by.

Hyunjin raised his eyebrows excitedly and smiled sweetly without showing his teeth.

“I'm dying to go… and to kiss you and make love to you while we play an Audrey Hepburn movie in the background…” he said slowly and flirtatiously, holding you tighter around the waist and leering at you from above.

You laughed softly as you remembered the first time you fucked in his apartment, where he promised a romantic movie date and ended up frantically pounding your pussy as he cummed in you.

Hyunjin leaned further into you, closing his eyes and kissing you fiercely, after a little over a minute, his sizzling kisses suddenly turned you on, making you weak in his arms. You hadn't had sex with Hyunjin for two long months, at this point you thought it was even abstinence, you needed him.

He continued to tease you with his deep, slow kisses as he groped your body and brazenly ran his hands under your dress, reaching down to your bare bottom wearing only panties and massaged your ass hard. You were starting to feel a mess of emotions, but luckily this time you finally had your boyfriend with you.

Hyunjin continued to squeeze you tightly, drawing you to his body and this time feeling that he was the same way you were, aroused. Hyunjin found his way to bring his dominant hand to your entrance, making you open your mouth slightly in a soft moan between the kiss. He pulled inches away from you, almost still almost touching your lips and you saw how attractive your boyfriend looked with his slightly intimidating gaze and fuller lips from your passionate kisses.

“I missed you so much” he said excitedly, nimbly pushing aside the fabric of your panties for better access to your area.

You lowered your hands from his neck and held onto his abdomen. Hyunjin was more turned on by the slight difficulty in caressing your pussy because you were standing still. You felt his long, slender, slightly raspy fingers, due the strings of his guitar, stroking along your tight, compressed folds and you spread your legs wider trying to facilitate his caresses, Hyunjin smirked smugly at the sight of you horny, licking his lips.

“Do you like it, love?” he sighed amused and excited.

You nodded awkwardly and didn't stop looking into his eyes for a second, but your peripheral vision caught perfectly his long arm guided in your area, you were losing more and more strength, every touch of Hyunjin made you lose your sanity, he was so skilled with his hands and fingers, after all he was a talented guitarist, you wanted to fuck him so desperately, to feel filled by him after such a long time. You didn't think about it and your hand also went to his prominent bulge, rubbing it gently, this time driving your boyfriend crazy. You stroked and squeezed the denim, he was so hard and at the same time his cock was so soft and slick, it always felt good.

Hyunjin sped up his rubbing on your clitoris, making you tremble a little, he leaned towards you bringing his foreheads together and looking at you sweetly.

“Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers, my sweet angel?” he said, as you felt his hot, heavy breathing hit your face.

“Yes” you moaned in between breaths.

Your boyfriend smiled sweetly, so innocent almost like he didn't seem to know exactly the distance from your labia to your entrance, slipping two of his fingers easily into your tight, wet hole. He gently fingered you, enjoying your caresses on his erection and being in control of your pleasure, occasionally looking smugly to his right side as you were in front of the mirror, watching your body tremble before him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for you to stand, so your boyfriend, concerned looked for an immediate solution, looking at his dressing room chair.

“Sit down. Let me taste you, love” he whispered in your ear, gently pulling his hand away from you.

You were about to do so but a voice near you, interrupted you.

“Hyunjiiiin, come out, where are you? The Rolling Stone fuckers are about to arrive” you heard a rather familiar voice shout, as it slowly approached.

Hyunjin opened his eyes in fright, causing you tenderness, followed by a gasp of frustration.

“Shit, I can't show up to the interview like this” he groaned in frustration.

You looked at your boyfriend's large and noticeable erection in his pants, and you again directed your hand on it squeezing it gently and looked him submissively in the eyes.

“Let me help you, Jinnie” you said seductively, stroking his bulge to which he moaned.

“B-but” he was about to protest.

“Shh” you silenced him, giving him a quick kiss and a cocky grin.

And with no time to waste you got down on your knees in front of his cock, you were so aroused, your pussy was throbbing hard and your throat was suddenly dry and ready to be filled with boyfriend's stiff member. You loved giving him blowjobs, his cock was exquisitely long and Hyunjin always knew how to use it with agility at every strategic spot on you, he knew you so well. You nimbly pulled down his pants and underwear finding his well standing and sensitive manhood, your boyfriend whimpered, yes, he was excited to see you too.

You grasped the base of his penis with your right hand and gently held his balls with your other hand, you raised your gaze to Hyunjin, who was pressing his lips tightly together letting himself be carried away by your touches. You ran your hand over his slightly tanned cock, your mouth was salivating more and more and your poor pussy was also reacting for your boyfriend's erect cock. You had forgotten how it was the last time you sucked him off and you were more than happy to be able to do it again. You gently spat on its tip and lubed it further, jerking it off in the process, feeling its slippery, slightly rough texture; Hyunjin was panting hard, letting out deep sighs and moans from his chest, a completely vocal boy.

You stuck out your tongue a little and opened your mouth to flick his big piece of organ on your needed tongue, tasting a little of his nice white precum, until finally introducing it little by little in your mouth, making sure your lips also felt what was yours, Hyunjin's big cock, all yours. He was big and with a very good thickness, always filling your insides to overflowing, to your limit; you had it all with him, he was cute, romantic and gave you the best orgasms.

Hyunjin whimpered at the feeling of the inside of your soft cheeks caressing his cock and immediately held onto your hair delicately without pulling it.

“Aggh, sweetheart, it feels so good” he gasped.

“Hyunjin, where the fuck are you man?” they shouted again.

“Fuck” gasped your boyfriend frustrated by the situation and the tightness of his cock in your mouth.

You also felt the pressure, your blood flow rushing harder and your heart racing, you had to make your boyfriend cum fast; so you started sucking him hard and keeping a little faster pace than usual, back and forth, taking all his swollen and throbbing length expertly.

“Hyunjin” you heard again a call in the distance. “Hyunjin come out, the Rolling Stone magazine people are here.”

“I'm coming” he squealed out loud in a shuddering whimper, completely lost from the stimulation of his cock in your mouth, “I'm literally coming, what the fuck” moaned Hyunjin biting his lip and taking more tightly your hair, intensifying your movements, fucking your mouth wildly.

You felt your boyfriend's climax near, so he didn't hesitate to feel the bottom of your throat, pushing hard on your head until you felt his tickling glans rubbing your throat as your boyfriend gave gentle lunges, you whimpered on his cock, your eyes quickly watered, you couldn't breathe somehow and, after a few seconds, he pushed you away a little. Finally, you saw his head falling back, his thighs quivering and his perfect abdomen contracting as he babbled excitedly and barely understandable your name. Until you felt his glorious shot of cum in your mouth, filling you completely; Hyunjin always cum in one strong shot and then his cum kept coming slowly so you waited to have it all in you. He subtly stopped holding your hair tightly and gently pushed your head off his member; resulting in the obscene image of his shiny, lubricated cock spurting out of your mouth as more of his liquid fell to the floor.

You swallowed your boyfriend's thick, white liquid and stood up quickly, Hyunjin was trying to steady himself and think clearly again, but you recognized that he was in a hurry, that was the main reason you were sucking him fast and hard so he would ejaculate fast and also the reason you tried to quench your fiery desire and arousal, he had to continue being a rock star and doing rock star things.

“Come on, Hyunjin you have to go out” you told him.

Your boyfriend gently shook his head as he stared at you and reacted instantly, rearranging his cock back into his underwear and pulling up his pants, you watched the scene cheekily biting your lip, even without him being hard, you could clearly see the big package your boyfriend was hiding in his pants, you blushed and once again thought of all the fucking groupies fantasizing about fucking him.

Hyunjin took your face in his hands and made you look into his eyes, his sharp dark eyes that made him look so intimidating, if only they knew he was the most tender and you had him in the palm of your hand, so docile and obedient.

“I promise to reward you, okay?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you for that, love, I love you.”

You nodded softly even with his grip on your cheeks, you watched him lovingly. And you watched him walk away, ready to go back to being the shining star Hwang Hyunjin.

[leclarifies]

Girlie, please do part 2 to letters!! That was so good!!!

kiss me, under the paris twilight (MV33)

part II to letters

✰ max verstappen x childhoodbestfriend!reader ✰

summary → after max announces his retirement and the both of you publishing your relationship to the world, he has a devious plan up his sleeve.

genre → fluffy, slight smut.

word count → 3.1k

author's note → ask, and you shall receive!!! anyways, i FREAKING LOVED WRITING THIS as per usual, this has been my favorite series i've done so far. it's so fluffy, so cute. the traction the first part got had me SCARED. the amount of people asking for a part 2 was crazy, so here it is! i hope you enjoyed it! i threw in some social media posts in there to keep it entertaining as well :3

"(blue eyed dutch boy) got me trippin', how your skin is always soft? how your kisses always hit? how you know just where to-" - lisa, "moonlit floor (kiss me)"

PARIS, FRANCE.

max had wanted to get away from the landscape of formula one, he had told her that he wanted some alone time after being away from her for so long and she accepted, not being in belgium long even though she just moved there.

her mother had some things to say, not knowing that it was max who planned the trip but when she explained herself to her mother, she had a twinkle in her eye and told her good luck with raised her eyebrow.

they had arrived to paris in the night time, wanting to get a bit of rest from their flight before exploring paris, just the two of them.

she was doing some skincare in the bathroom when she felt a familiar presence behind her, it was her max, looking at her through the mirror, "you look beautiful," he murmured in her ear, she could only smile softly at her boyfriend.

yes, boyfriend. he had practically shouted it out to the world when he claimed her as his, not literally though. he wanted to keep things quite private since their relationship was quite new, not wanting to shove her into the spotlight like that.

"thank you liefje," she had responded back, equally as soft as she continued her ministrations on her face, wanting her skin to look nice, not only for herself but for when she was inevitably thrust into the public-eye.

max littered kisses on the side of her face, hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him, he had been so clingy. so much clingier than what she remembered. maybe is was the time and distance between the last time that they met that made him this way, but he absolutely did not want his hands not on her.

eventually, they both got settled into the bed of their suite. she had scolded max for getting a room so expensive but he responded with something along the lines of, 'i am no longer that little boy that you first met, let me spoil you.'

she wanted to smack him but he didn't care, all he wanted to do now was spend the money that he earned from being in formula one on her. he didn't need that much money, but she knew how much money girls spent to keep their appearance, so if it's his money that she used, he didn't care.

max rested his head on her chest as the both of them put a movie on to watch, something about a fighter pilot romance, she didn't really understand but he picked it, so she didn't complain.

"did you end up reading all the letters i sent?" max asked with a quiet voice, his hand caressing her hips mindlessly, just wanting to touch. she shook her head no, he had written her a lot. she had barely gotten through half of them. the letters were filled with love, always asking about how she's been, his achievements and how much he's missed her.

"you had written me a lot of letters, maxie. i can't get through all of them, i've been back barely two weeks," she had reminded him and he could only hum a response back, his eyes were already drooping, tried from the flight and today's activities.

her hand was on his head, softly petting max. she only stopped when she heard his soft breaths, signaling that he was indeed asleep already. she wanted to laugh at how fast he fell asleep around her, he had complained about it at first, not understanding why he fell asleep so fast in her presence. he just wanted to spend time with her without feeling sleepy.

she then later researched about it and found out that max felt safe around her, and that's why he felt sleepy a lot around her. she didn't tell him though, figuring it'd be nice to keep this one thing a little secret between her and herself.

she fell asleep not long after, feeling quite sleepy in his presence as well.

hand in hand, max and her were walking through the streets of paris. she understood why he picked paris though, it's the city of love after all.

"i have a place where i get my pastries, i really like it," max had spoke as she continued to walk with him, "i've been there a couple times just as a vacation by myself, i think you'll like it too."

she smiles at max before letting him lead the way, eventually they found themselves in a small quaint corner of the city, entering the bakery. the smell of freshly baked bread and pastries entered her senses and she sighed in content.

max made the initiative to go up to the counter and ordered a few pastries that he thought she would like while she looked around to see what she would like, maybe a pain au chocolat? she's been wanting to try those ever since she got to paris.

"liefje, maybe a pain au chocolat for me?" she called out to max, and he nodded. he had ordered it first because she's mentioned it a few times on their trip, he was very attentive when it came to her needs, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable or unhappy with him or the trip. he just wanted her content and that's how she felt, fortunately for him.

they exited the bakery with a few pastries and a pain au chocolat for her in her hands, she bit into it and a cute sound escaped her lips, "oh my god, this is so good maxie."

max could only smile, he hated that he had to suggest the bake shop first, now they couldn't hold hands. he was very big on skinship and skin-to-skin contact, she could tell.

lunch was where they were headed next, and she hoped that it was going to be as romantic as how the day was going.

liked by charles_leclerc, danielriccardo and 98,054 others

mv33updates some fans spotted max with a mystery girl around france, who could she be?

user1: NOT CHARLES AND DANNY BEING IN THE LIKES

user2: PFT NO WAY I JUST SAW

user1: THEY ARE SOOO MESSY AND THEY KNOW WHAT'S UP

user3: are we sure that's max? his face is covered in most of them 😭

user4: GIRL ARE YOU BLIND?

user5: honestly very happy for him and the mystery girl! he looks like he likes her very much

user6: they look so cute with eachother :(

user7: she looks pretty tho, can someone let me know who she is??

user8: from research and a little snooping around, i think she's @/yourusername but!!!! i may be wrong :D

MONACO.

"uh oh," left her lips as she scrolled past something on her instagram explore page, "maxie, i think we've been found out."

max was sitting up straight on their bed now, eyebrows raised in panic.

no, this was not how it was supposed to go, they were supposed to have a small private trip to france outside of the public eye. he really screwed this one up.

"i'm gonna call my lawyer," max said as he took out his phone but she stopped him, looking down where he was sitting. he was mad at himself for letting this happen, of course fans were going to be everywhere. he should've thought about that before inviting her out to france.

"maxie, stop. it's okay. you're worried over nothing, it's just fan speculation. they don't know until you react and by sending them cease and desist letters will only confirm that it's true," she had reminded him, and he knew she was right.

max captured her in a hug and sighed against her stomach, "i'm sorry schatje, i just wanted to keep you away from the public eye for as long as possible," he mumbled, he knew how harsh the media was going to be, it was always hard when new relationships were forming.

they were back home in monaco now, settled in max's apartment, safe from being bombarded with paparazzi. his big blue eyes were now looking up at her, she gave him a small kiss on the forehead, "you are fine max. maybe if you want, you can take the horse by the reigns and post something yourself?"

"your mind amazes me sometimes, schatje."

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,709,348 others

maxverstappen1 Hi, just wanted to come on here to say that I do indeed have a girlfriend and we had a fun time in France 🥐 Please be nice to her, she is my best friend and the love of my life and I hope all of you have the respect to love her as equally as you do with me 😊 Don't bombard her Instagram as she would like to keep it private for the time being, please respect that. I didn't want to share her with you guys at first, but here she is. I love you schatje 💕 tagged: yourusername

yourusername: i love you too, liefje. liked by creator ♡

maxverstappen1: 😘

user8: OH OKAY MAX, DEFINITELY NEEDED THIS ON THE TL THIS MORNING.

user9: hand placement??? max, the man that you are.

redbullracing: ❤ liked by creator ♡

user10: nooo, her insta is private :(

user11: please respect her privacy, max said it himself.

user12: woah, we can barely see her face but i know that she's gorgeous...

user13: right????

user14: please drop more faceless y/n content, we wanna see T__T liked by creator ♡

user15: fist in my mouth rn

user16: NEW WAG ON THE STREETS

"schatje?" max's morning voice croaked out from the bedroom, she was in the kitchen with the two cats cooking some breakfast for the both of them, she called out from the kitchen, saying that she was cooking them both breakfast before she felt arms wrap around her middle and face being buried in the crook of her neck.

"you left bed without me," max mumbled, and she hummed a response, still focused on the stove which was still on. it's been a few months of her being back and he's been savoring these lazy mornings when he could.

there was a two week formula one break, which meant more time with her and max loved spending time with her and she knew how much he did, the clinginess was going down a bit more everyday, maybe because he was getting used to her presence being a constant in his life again.

they spent a lazy morning together, eating breakfast in bed with the kitties. they seemed to love her, preferring her to feed them over max. she would laugh when max would feel betrayed after calling them over when they were in your arms, not wanting to move an inch.

he understood why though, he loved her as much as the cats did, maybe more.

SÃO PAULO, BRAZIL.

a beautiful performance by max on the race, and an even more beautiful face waiting for him as he finished first place. the first person he ran to was her, it was muscle memory at this point. wrapping her in an embrace, even though the race suit he wore was soaked in rainwater and clung onto him like a second skin.

"this one was for you, schatje," he whispered in her ear as everyone erupted into cheers for max. he had an incredible drive, starting from p17 to finish off winning the race. an absolute masterclass if she did say so herself.

to say that he only specifically dedicated this race for her, was a lie. he dedicated every race to her, and she was always there for him whether he finished first place or maybe got the result that wasn't satisfactory to him, he still dedicated it to her and she was always there. cheering him on, unconditionally.

he was so proud of himself, and so happy that the love of his life was able to watch his incredible performance.

kisses were trailed down from her neck all the way down to her stomach, max was going to worship her tonight if it was the last thing he did.

she was wearing his favorite set he had bought for her, maybe because of his win earlier today, maybe just to relieve some stress but he didn't care. all that he cared was his girlfriend looked delectable and he was there to feast tonight.

his kisses ended just right as he reached her core, a soft whine erupting from her throat before he gently tugged away at the panties that were covering her.

god, he loved her so much. she looked like a goddess on his hotel bed like that.

and feast he did, he pulled her legs apart and ate.

her hands automatically reached for his head of hair, tugging on it gently as moans escaped her, whether she was willing or unwilling to let them out.

he knew how to make her feel good and he was going to exploit that tonight.

the next morning, she was sore all over, bending in some weird positions max insisted on trying. she wasn't mad though, just a tiny bit sore, "you okay, liefje?" max mumbled against her lips, they were both very indecent under the covers.

she pecks him on the lips before she had a sparkle in her eye, "i think i'm ready to take this thing officially public."

"oh i've been waiting to show your pretty face off, schatje."

ABU DHABI, UAE.

"AS MAX VERSTAPPEN CROSSES THE FINISH LINE, HE WILL BE CROWNED KING OF THE WORLD DRIVER'S CHAMPIONSHIP. AN INCREDIBLE DRIVE FROM HIM, MARKING THIS HIS FOURTH IN A ROW."

the first face he searched for in the crowd when he got out of the car was hers, the smile she had on her face was unforgettable. she looked so proud and happy for him.

she almost fell over from the force of the hug that she was captured in, she had so much love in her heart for him and seeing him win his fourth world driver's championship in person was so much better than seeing it from the screen.

max kissed her, hard. he worked so hard for this. he earned this with blood, swear and tears all so he could impress his pretty girl, he promised that he would all those years ago, and here they were.

"i did it for you schatje, i want you to be proud of me, so i got my fourth wdc," he spoke after he disconnected from the kiss, and all she could do was smile at him, not having enough words.

soon, he was whisked away to celebrate with his team and all he could see when he looked back to meet her eyes filled with love.

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, danielriccardo and 5,09,643 others

maxverstappen1 As the year comes to an end, I would like to announce my retirement from Formula 1. It has been such a pleasure to work with splendid people whilst at @/redbullracing, I could have never asked for a better team. Cheers to spending the rest of my life with @/yourusername!

tagged yourusername

yourusername: we look so cute in the new years photo :( liked by creator ♡

maxverstappen1: You are the cutest, liefje.

yourusername: i love you

maxverstappen1: I love you too.

user17: is this.... an marriage announcement........

user18: WELL HE DID SAY "CHEERS TO SPEDNING THE REST OF MY LIFE" SO...

user19: patiently waiting for the engagement post...

user20: she is so pretty T___T liked by creator ♡

"this is the area that i used to live in," she had offered a trip around asia, wanting to feel the various seasons that asia had to offer, their first stop was korea, she wanted to show max where she basically grew up in. the area, the food, the culture. she loved every piece of korea even though it did prevent her from being with max.

it didn't matter though, they were here together now.

she walked max through all of it, her school, her university. her favorite places to eat, and meeting up with some of her high school friends, all of them not knowing that she were indeed friends (and dating) the ex-formula one driver, four time world champion max verstappen.

the looks on their faces were priceless, she wished she could've snapped a pic. all of them were formula one fans, of course. courtesy of her, she forced them to watch the races even when they didn't want to and turned them into fans of the sport. now they watched on their free time, she never mentioned that she used to know max though, not wanting to sound delusional.

"it's fucking cold here schatje," max's teeth were chattering against eachother, she could only laugh. the winters here were definitely colder than the ones he would usually experience in belgium, so she wasn't bewildered when he didn't feel comfortable with the cold nipping his skin, "how the fuck did you survive this for ten years? my ass is freezing out here."

she could only laugh before hooking her arm around his and guiding him to the nearest convenience store to warm up.

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, and 193,093 others

yourusername hi everyone, i've finally decided to unprivate my instagram due to popular request. me and max are very much having such a fun time holiday-ing in asia! thank you for supporting max through his formula one journey and i hope you will continue to support him as he retires and moves onto new things <3 tagged maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: The third picture basically sums up how much I love you. liked by creator ♡

yourusername: oh stop it.

maxverstappen1: You love me, don't deny it. liked by creator ♡

yourusername: that i do :D

user21: OH MY GOD SHE IS SOOOO PRETTY? liked by creator ♡

user22: better than my expectations, she blew it out of the park.

alexandrasaintmleux: finally the world sees what i see every week! you are such a gorgeous girl, i'm so happy max has you as his girlfriend. liked by creator ♡

yourusername: oh stop it, you are too sweet alex <3

user23: SO UR SAYING U'VE BEEN SEEING THIS EVERY WEEKEND WHILE WE'RE STARVING?

user24: oh my goodness, you look beautiful liked by creator ♡

fransisca.c.gomes: lovely girl! hope you're having fun touring around in asia!! liked by creator ♡

yourusername: thanks so much kika!

lilymhe: omg you should come visit me and alex in thailand! the food is superrrr good here liked by creator ♡

yourusername: we'll stop by once we reach south east asia!! i promise!!

PARIS, FRANCE.

max had planned everything out, once they finished their tour around asia, he would fly her out to paris to finally propose to her. he had it planned for months now, he didn't want to ruin this. he wanted this to be perfect so he had both sides of the family be there to celebrate the occasion.

he had always dreamt about proposing to her in paris ever since their first trip when she first came back to europe, he just wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, it was crucial to his well-being that she was going to be there for the rest of his life or else he might throw a tantrum (he says he's joking but i bet he will).

max had been in contact with her mother, planning it to her expectations, making sure that every single detail was in place and nothing was going wrong.

his heart was beating out of his chest when they boarded the jet to go back to 'monaco', she absolutely had no idea and he needed this to go perfectly or he might have a heart attack.

getting settled in the plane was easy for her, it was second nature at this point by how much they were traveling. she would always ask the cost to max but he would avoid the question and tell her that it doesn't matter what the cost is, as long as she's happy.

she would roll her eyes and blow him a raspberry at the response.

"you are such a child, schatje," max would laugh but she just pouted and looked the other way, not wanting to see his face while he teased her. it was annoying, but she loved him either way.

she had fallen asleep in his arms halfway through the flight and max thought that this would be a perfect opportunity for him to surprise her.

she was confused at first when she arrived in paris, she did remember correctly that max had told her that they would be going back to monaco in order to wind down and just relax after the long year of the two of them traveling around the world to chase races.

but what confused her even more was the blindfold, what the hell was max planning?

max had a grin on his face the entire time, he felt giddy even though he was the one proposing. he just couldn't wait to see the look on her face when her blindfold was off.

"so what are we doing in paris again, liefje?" she had asked but max could only laugh in response, he didn't want to reveal whatever he had planned, so he simply just told her that it was a surprise and she would know once she got there.

he had booked out an entire restaurant, wanting this to be a private event just for friends and family. they were arriving soon, and soon enough, they were setting foot into the outdoor part of the restaurant.

"keep your blindfold on until i say so, okay schatje?" max had told her and she nodded in response, all of their friends and family were in attendance, watching quietly as max got into position. he had ordered the words "WILL YOU MARRY ME?" in big bold letters filled with peonies, her favorite.

and in the middle was him, holding out a little ring box while being on one knee, "okay my love, take off your blindfold."

a gasp escapes her lips when she sees what's in front of her, realizing that this was indeed a proposal, tears quickly pricked her eyes as she saw max kneeling on one knee, "hi schatje, we've been best friends for our entire lives, and i want to ask you to be my best friend forever. our lives have been filled with ups and downs and i want you to be there for every up and for every down in my life. so what do you say, schatje? will you marry me?"

a sob sounded out from her as she covered her mouth, tears spilled out freely before she choked out a 'yes, of course i will marry you max verstappen'.

max came up to hug her as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause from behind them which scared her, she cried even more when she realized how much thought was put into this surprise, all of her family and friends were there, celebrating their engagement together.

"oh my god, you did all this for me?" she sobbed into max's embrace before he chuckled and nodded, he wanted this day to be so special.

the couple shared a loving kiss before greeting the crowd.

taglist > @seonghwaexile @dying-inside-but-its-classy @angstynasty thank you so much for the support on the first part, i absolutely adore every single one of you guys <3

[thewebcomicsreview]

You know, it's always struck me as a little odd how little most webcomics actually attempt to adapt to their medium. There's basic strips, the old 2k era 4-square, the endless scroll of Webtoons, and a few weird experimental things like Homestuck, but most webcomics I run into tend to stubbornly stick to conventional portrait-oriented page layouts.

It's… readable, I guess, but that format doesn't seem to work very well for either desktop or mobile viewing. It wastes a lot of screen-space, and usually makes it impossible to actually view the full page without making the text too small to read.

Have you encountered any interesting webcomics that experiment with more landscape-oriented layouts? I'm kinda curious about how well that would work.

So, there's this dude Scott McCloud who wrote about comics in the 90s. His first book, Understanding Comics, is literally the book on comics, it's the one schools make kids read. This third book, Making Comics, is a pretty good practical advice guide I'd recommend, even if it's not his groundbreaking seminal work. In between those two books was one called Reinventing Comics

Reinventing Comics, written in 1993, was basically a book of predictions about how this newfangled Interweb was going to revolutionize the art of comics creation. Like a lot of early-90s stuff "Wow the internet!" stuff, it has a lot of inaccurate predictions, and thus isn't super well remembered (though, unlike a lot of early-90s predictions of the internet, it at least vaguely resembled reality).

Anyway, one of the big things from that book was the idea of the "infinite canvas".

Which was basically the idea that a comic didn't have to be constrained by the size of the screen because you could scroll it. And this was a big idea in early webcomics, you heard this phrase a lot. And you'd see infinite canvas techniques like "What if the characters are falling and the comic is really tall to sell that?"

(Read Narbonic)

Which is basically the one and only example that actually took off, because it turns out that scrolling horizontally sucks and no one really wants to do it except as a one-of gimmick (as Homestuck does). The much bigger impact of the internet was that a webcomic could be infinitely long and still reasonably expect it's readership to have read it all, but I think McCloud missed that one. So while there were a bunch of "landscape" webcomics where you scrolled horizontally, none of them took off, and even the ones that were well received are long gone.

Adams himself would make Zot!, which is a vertical scroll comic that had a bit of a gimmick with parallel story beats being literally parallel. I think he even did some branching paths, and experimented with comics that you could read in different directions or that looped back on themselves.

But then Homestuck just did that better because, as I mentioned, infinite depth ended up being a lot more impactful than infinite width. It turns out that making a comic really wide calls a lot of attention to itself and makes the comic annoying to read. And it doesn't mean you can't do it (Homestuck did it!), but it does mean it can't be the gimmick you hang your comic up on unless you've got a really good reason for doing it.

[splatashahowlett]

Nighttime frenzy part.2

logan howlett x reader

part.1

right now, you envied charles more than anything else. alright, being a telepath is far from being easy, but it's so usefull. if you were a telepath you wouldn't beat yourself over what logan is thinking right now. there wasn't any tension between you but no words were exchanged since you woke up and you felt dumb for even thinking this "so called hatred" could go away over the night.

logan was driving, still silent. you were sat, hugging your legs to your chest, looking out the window. you wanted to hit him in the face. you put your pride aside last night for his own comfort and he couldn't even do the same when came the morning.

"you are one snobbish asshole." you said, keeping your gaze on the landscape. you heard him scoff. "excuse me?" he said, taken aback.

"you're not putting any efforts in making things better" you replied, refusing to turn your head in his direction.

"because you are?" he impugned which caused your jaw to drop at his impertinence.

"I literally hugged you!" you scrieched, bewildered by his boldness. you wanted to strangle him

"after throwing a fucking waterbucket at my face!" he yelled back

"oh you've got some nerve" you said with a venom tainted tone. "stop the car" you said firmly. but he didn't. "I told you to stop the car logan" you warned.

"or what? you're gonna jumped out the window?" he mocked. this was your last straw, you gripped the steering wheel and made a turn on the right, forcing logan to hit the brakes. it's while you were doing it that you realized it wasn't a smart decision. the truck almost left the road but logan gained back the control of the vehicle before it was too late. you froze, knowing logan was mad. you slowly turned your head toward him, both on mute.

"everything is your fault, you hated me first" you accused him before he could blame you for almost causing an accident.

"who told you that?" he asked genuinely confused.

"come on; you roll your eyes at my jokes, refuse any help from me, complain when you are assigned to a mission with me and always hit harder when I say something that's pissing you off" you shouted while doing large gestures with your hands.

"I act this way with everyone! you just took it personally because you're a self-centered idiot" he argued, baffled.

"well maybe I did take it personally but you can't blame me!" you screamed, sticking your finger in his face.

without any second thoughts logan grabbed your extended arm and pulled you on his lap to kiss you messily. you couldn't comprehend what was happening so your body took over and kissed him back just as passionately. you were missing air but couldn't care less. logan broke the kiss abruptly. "you almost got us killed" was the first thing he pronounced.

"is it physically hurting you if you don't blame me for something every minute of your miserable existence?" you raised your eyebrows. logan chuckled and kissed you again, this time much gently; you could feel him smile in the kiss. this time it was your turn to break the kiss.

"you really do have some nerve, you know? what I did last night was everything but usual for me" you put your hands on his torso, keeping him from shutting you up by kissing you.

"I know sweetheart, I'm grateful for what you did" he answered. you squinted your eyes, taking in what he had just said; logan, grateful? you were apparently taking too long for logan who grabbed your hands with one of his while the other one came on your cheek to kiss you.

"let's not hate each other, it's not fun anymore" he said in the kiss, his voice muffled by your lips. you only nodded and got up to lead him to the bed, lips still glued to each others'.

logan pushed you on the bed and almost instinctively placed his hands on your waist. you wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him from leaving.

"is it enough efforts for you?" he joked.

"shut the fuck up already" you said, desperatly. your hands roaming on every inch of his back and arms. logan took that as his cue to take both your shirts off. his kisses weren't only offered to your mouth but also to your collarbone now. he ravished your neck, your covered breast, your stomach and took advantage of his position to unbutton your trousers. he looked up and asked "is this okay?". you nodded and he threw your jeans on the floor, leaving you in your underwear.

his lips were now on the inside of your thighs, teasing you fiercly. you were going crazy, your breathing got quicker and quicker and your hand flew to his head, burying itself in his hair.

"do something already" you commanded, causing logan to chuckle and blow some air on your core, making you shiver. logan slowly got rid of your panties and didn't wait a second more to start eating you out. his tongue was doing wonders and you couldn't help but press his head further down wich resulted in logan's nose tickling your clit. you let out a soft moan, logan seemed to enjoy it, you felt him smirk against you. when you looked down, he was already looking at you in a way that made your heart beat even faster. that's when he pushed two fingers in you; satisfied by the sight before him of your face mirroring the pleasure he was giving you.

each time you thought he would stop to catch his breath he proved you wrong, you never thought you would be attracted to older guys but if they all come with that much skills and experience you may have to get into it. but deep down you knew that you could only take that much pleasure with logan. what was the use of lying to yourself about hating him when he is devouring you in the back of a shitty camping car in the middle of nowhere. you let out a little laugh laced with a moan at the situation. logan didn't have the time to make fun of it that you approached your climax and let him know by moaning endlessly and gripping his hair even harder than before.

logan led you through your orgasm by increasing the pace of his fingers and groaning which made your whole lower body vibrate.

your hand was positioned on his stomach, slowly rising and lowering to the rythm of his breathing. your eyes were locked on his face, taking benefit of his sleeping state to observe him. something he wouldn't let you do if he was aware of it...

"quit it bub" he growled, surprising you. you grabbed his face with your hand and peppered him with kisses. this kind of affection wasn't conventional for logan but he figured he would let you do those kind of things in the future if it made you happy. maybe he could give it back to you? logan opened his eyes and unexpectedly pushed you on your back by grabbing you by the waist. he was now on top of you, amused at your dumbfounded expression.

you were waiting for him to make some snarky remarks or tell you to stop being silly but at your biggest stupefaction he also peppered kisses all over your face. you laughed and tried to push him away playfully.

you couldn't believe how much had changed in five days. but you would do it all over again. yes, even pratically crashing the truck.

[storytellering]

(cont'd) - But I did save some fanfics to read for later - which I also perused just kinda off handledly... until one day that may, something just... clicked, while rereading one of them. I couldn't tell you which one it was, now - I just know I texted my best friend to tell her, "oh shit. I think I have these demon men in my brain now and they won't leave" and that was really the beginning of the end for me, LMAO. That was the point of no return - and after that I truly binged everything ao3 had to offer, and only THEN did I remember my previous fanfic binge and realized I'd actually read pretty much every one of the newly written fanfics back when 5 was brand spanking new LMAO. As for what makes me love the franchise... god, that's also a very good question and one I fear i'm gonna go on another super lengthy tirade about haha. There's just... something about it, that I don't think I've been able to find anywhere else. I love the narrative voice, how fun the characters are - the games themselves are able to tell a good, emotionally driven story while still keeping you engaged every single moment you're there - perhaps it's just the perfect game for adhd, lol. But it manages to do that without ever being overwhelming, or going so fast you can't absorb what's happening or it dampening the emotional beats - in general, it's got excellent pacing above all else, knowing just when to keep going and keep up the rhythm, and when to slow down and take a breath. There's also the honestly fantastic worldbuilding - I love that even though this is a very linear, very straight to the point franchise, it still crafts an incredibly tangible, believable world around it. It doesn't shove heaps of papers and walls of texts and info at you to tell you what's happening in the world around you or how things work - it shows you directly, through gameplay, through implications, through the characters' body language, through environmental storytelling, through the characters' own observations. I cannot count how many times I'd been playing a dmc game, and feeling like I was theorizing something but maybe I was kinda just projecting my own hc onto it, maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see - only to have exactly what I'd thought be directly verbally confirmed in the novels, or through other materials in the franchise later on. I love how real demons feel - they're not just these nebulous evil things, they're animals, with their own ecosystems, biology, societal rules - and once again, none of it is just shoved at you, you just kinda... learn that as you go further. It's so seamless it just lets you accept the world the story takes place in as real without ever having to stop and question it, or have to fill in your own gaps, and even when you do, it feels like you're working in tandem with what's there in the text to do that - it's giving you just enough to add to it, without overwhelming you with information or feeling like you have to make up everything yourself to make it make some sense.

SORRY FOR THE ABSOLUTE WALL OF TEXT ANON, honestly I could keep going SO much longer but I'm running out of characters so dgihd. Thanks again for the question and sorry for the verbal diarrhea hope it's what you were hoping for

When and how did you discover DMC? And what makes you love the franchise?

Ohh, great question anon! Personally I was always kinda peripherally aware of DMC as a franchise - when I was early in middle school (around 10/11) I started really getting into anime and manga, and that was before I really spoke fluent english that much, so I was primarily looking for stuff that was either dubbed or subtitled in my native language - there was one TV channel that broadcasted dubbed anime, and it was really not that many back in the day... but somehow, the dmc TV anime was one of those! I really loved it, and I must've rewatched it a billion times - it was one of the late night programs so I remember sneaking out past my bedtime to plug my headphones into the TV and watch it, haha. But still, I didn't own any game consoles, and I didn't know how to use the internet too well yet, so all I could do was think "oh, dmc sounds so cool, sure wish I could actually play the games and get more context some time.", and it kinda stayed that way for the rest of my life! In 2019, even though it was completely out of my immediate sphere, I heard word of dmc5 out on the internet, and though I'd forgotten most of what I'd gathered back in middle school with the anime, I did remember it being something I'd been peripherally interested in for a long time, and then - I admit it, I was startstruck by how hot the main 3 characters looked on the cover art, LMAO. I still couldn't play most games (all I had was the aforementioned nds, a wii u, and and older mac laptop), BUT exactly for that reason I'd learned to just watch playthroughs of the games I was interested in - and i was immediately interested in dmc5, like I said at a glance just bc every character was very attractive to me, but you know how it is, my dick has lead me to places I wouldn't even go with a gun, etc etc. I just had this almost fugue state moment of reading everything I could on the wiki about the plot, the lore and the characters, saving a cutscene movie video of the game to watch later, and being SO into how pretty much every ship would be incestuous and very drawn to what that would entail for the characters, going on a fic reading binge..... and then literally forgetting ALL about it within the week. Like, literally, if you'd asked me if any of that had happened before I actually properly got into dmc, I'm not sure I would've been able to remember that happening at all. AND THEN, finally, this backstory comes to a head in december 2020/january 2021 - that was the year where I got my first job, (i know, what a year to do that, LMAO. it was a waiter job too) so for the first time in my life I had a little bit of extra money to spend, and so I decided to get myself a ps4 as a christmas gift so I could finally catch up with all the franchises I'd been wanting so bad to get into but had missed out on, or those I'd had to get into via watching someone else play, and could finally experience firsthand. DMC5 was one of the very first games I got myself - and I still have texts with my best friend from that time to remind me exactly when the very first time I booted the game was (january 15th, 2021). I'd like to say it was love at first sight, but it actually... kinda wasn't. I had forgotten most of my past interest, and at the time, I just kinda experienced it as a game that was really fun, really cool, and kinda put to the back of my mind (though I will say - my immediate reaction WAS that I'd genuinely, honestly never had that much fun playing a game before. Like - maybe it's because I hadn't really played any console game up to that point, but... video games had always been something that, while i was really interested in, I just kinda suffered through to experience a story, or something I powered through because I wanted to see it through to the end, actively enjoying the process on the way there was rare, for me - and dmc was genuinely just fun. Even without the plot to drive it forwards, I liked playing it just to play it, and that was like an INSANE concept to me back then lol).

(I'll have to continue this in a RB bc it turned out I have way too much to say and going way over the character limit WHOOPS stay tuned lol)

[majimemegoro]

Kamurocho dashboard simulator

🏵 tojoc0re Follow

nishiki was 27 years old???

🏵 tojoc0re Follow

he shouldnt have been made a patriarch the dragon of dojima would of been better at it :/

( 420 notes )

📸 daily-mac-photos Follow

#kamurocho #tokyo #tenkaichi street #japan landscapes #photographers of japan #travel #cyberpunk #not as zesty as my usual subject matter but #lmao pls reblog this i almost got beat up by color gang members taking this photo

( 79 notes )

🦢 chinpiraposting Follow

my hungry ass can't be left alone with staminam x i suck those bad boys down like juice

( 9,839 notes )

🚲 wackycyclist Follow

.

#the entitlement i see on this site sometimes is disgusting #y'all will just post about having easy access to bicycles??? #some of us had our bicycles wrecked in fights??? #vent #do not rb

( 3 notes )

🗡 koinodiscoqueen Follow

CALLOUT FOR SHIMANO FUTOSHI

I've talked a lot about this already on this blog, but I want to have everything collected in one post so next time some dipshit with a hannya hand icon slides into my inbox to call me a liar I can just link to this post. tl;dr shimano futoshi made my cousin feel realy unsafe while she was shaving his head, and here are the receipts:

Keep reading

( 38 notes )

🚡 matsushigeboss-deactivated30190547

fr we need to stop letting twunks be in charge of anything

( 3 notes )

🍜 i<3kazama Follow

i stg if one more of you tells me the old yakuza way is dying I KNOW ALREADY shut UP

#feel like pure shit just want cold noodles

( 1,930 notes )

📖 kamuroscamwatch Follow

today's scam: Aha water (again)

Was walking down pink street when I got stopped by a barker who promised that all my problems could be solved..., long story short, anyone remember Aha water from the 80s? Well, they rebranded as AHA water (subtle, I know) and they''re back at it. I stalked the people who make it and they literally collected puddle water from the champion district to put in the concoction. I didn't really feel well after drinking it, but the overall experience was good because they totally tapped into that nostalgia. Overall a really solid scam. Stay safe out there kamurocho.

4/5 stars

#scamblr #aha water #1980s #scams #scam rating #safety #scam review

( 12 notes )

👺 hannya69 Follow

batting center is a normal place to get nastay in reblog if u agree

( 58,274 notes )

🚗 thepocketcricuitfighter Follow

Does anyone here still play pocket circuit? :)

( 0 notes )

📈 reglarsalaryman Follow

wtf this guy just ripped off his shirt in the street and started whaling on some guys?? everyone else started clapping and cheering and I just went along with it lmao 😅 am I missing something????

#this is right after he sang a song and saved a couple from jumping off a building #he was glowing too.... #average night in kamurocho

( 85 notes )

🐛 majimaunderlingbaddiebracket Follow

ULTIMATE HOTTEST MAJIMA UNDERLING BADDIE TOURNAMENT FINALS!!!!

🔘 shinji-deactivated30190303

here y'all go again pitting two bad bitches against each other

🌀 jingusforehead Follow

🌊 thugbaby Follow

everyone who voted minami is an arson apologist #nishidasweep

( 4,271 notes )

🔥 businessboi Follow

fuck my job so much. everyone manifest an attack on millennium tower so I can go home.

🔥 businessboi Follow

by talos this can't be happening

( 38,386 notes )

[sevikas-biceps]

[TLDR: me attempting to make sense of the Arcane's eldritchness, which sounds ironic in hindsight but hear me out]

Revelation after revelation aside, there are many pieces of foreshadowing that tell us why Viktor's commune wasn't as great as it seemed.

Visually speaking, all the clues are right there.

The first thing we see of the slums of Zaun is this.

Vi, leading their little group, is astonished to find such a thing—and to think that Huck was there, serving as one of its ushers! Huck, who she immediately calls a filthy traitor; having succumbed to shimmer the last time she saw him—meaning he'd turned to Silco both literally and figuratively—what with his use of the drug and the fact that he'd ratted her and Caitlyn out to the tycoon.

Miss Ma'am is bamboozled.

How the hell did he end up there? At this...paradise? At the slums, which, only a few weeks or months ago; was still dark, dusty, violet, and violent!

Something has changed, obviously; and Huck himself admits that his past was him 'at his worst'. Simply awful. But the Herald had saved him. And because of that, he was leading a better life, now. Naturally, at this point, Vi and Jinx seem wary.

There's gotta be a catch, no?

The landscape and the characters exemplify this.

Let's start with the land itself. Look at how empty it actually looks. Yes, there's a field of flowers. Yes, there's a community, teeming with life. Yes, it's literally heaven. But the lighting. The colours. It's so...bleak. Like a dream. The mountains are green, but they're cast in grey and white; and added with the negative space, there's an eeriness to it that contrasts Piltover's version of an eutopia.

You can argue it being the vast resource difference, as Topside is the superior city for a reason, but the commune is still filled with numerous individuals with just as much creativity as their counterparts. Intelligent and sentient beings—people, with minds to set to whatever task may be at hand.

Now, let's think of the people.

The biggest difference between the two communities is this: the 'healed' of Viktor's paradise wear only one mode of dress: white. It's almost uniform—which is notable, as, previously in the episode, Viktor speaks of 'chaos'. We see how fascinated he was by the mess that Vander's psyche had become, and in an attempt at detangling that chaos, he was 'setting things right' inside the man's mind. Bringing him back to something resembling normalcy. Order.

This is particularly significant for the fact that, in the game, he's remembered for his philosophy on glorious evolution (also mentioned in the show, as we know)—which is centred on the enhancement of the human body to transcend its fleshly limits.

Piltover, in contrast—and by extension the 'unhealed' of Zaun—go against this code. We see shimmer addicts, we see corrupt individuals, we see bigoted populations, we see conflict between the cities. We see human nature at its finest. Even the episode titles, all the way from Season 1, display this.

S1E1: Welcome to the Playground S1E2: Some Mysteries are Better Left Unsolved S1E3: The Base Violence Necessary for Change S1E4: Happy Progress Day! S1E5: Everybody Wants to Be My Enemy S1E6: When These Walls Come Tumbling Down S1E7: The Boy Saviour S1E8: Oil and Water S1E9: The Monster You Created S2E1: Heavy is the Crown S2E2: Watch It All Burn S2E3: Finally Got the Name Right S2E4: Paint the Town Blue S2E5: Blisters and Bedrock S2E6: The Message Hidden Within the Pattern

Again, human nature. Colourful, tumultuous, unsynchronised. A need for knowledge. A need for violence. A need for change. A need for exploration. A need for control. Everything that we can have, we take.

That's the point of Viktor's quote:

I understand now. The message hidden within the pattern. The reason for our failures in the commune. The doctor was right—it's inescapable. Humanity. Our very essence. Our emotions—rage, compassion, hate. Two sides of the same coin, inextricably bound. That which inspires us to our greatest good is also the cause of our greatest evil.

It's a paradox.

This is a sophisticated conjuration. A singularity, simultaneously self-replicating and self-annihilating.

He wasn't just talking about the Arcane. It wasn't just about that 'voice' he and Sky heard when gazing at Jayce through Salo's eyes. It's also about humanity.

So, how does that relate to his commune?

Here's the thing: it looks like heaven, but later on, when Viktor dies and everyone else follows, it's practically limbo. It's liminal. Initially, you only have the vague sense that there's something off about it, but you can't tell what. It's filled with people, yet at the same time, it looks like it shouldn't have any to begin with. Mysterious. Suspicious. Almost dreadful; something that makes you realise: if you think about it too hard, you'd drive yourself insane.

There's something intrinsically natural about the commune, something untouched by human hands; but there's also something intrinsically human about it, something unnatural, cultivated in a way nature itself cannot replicate. That's the catch. It should be a balance of both. An ideal community would show this.

Viktor's connection to the Hexcore tells us that he's, in part, transcended both humanity and the natural world. He's breached the ineffable and the incomprehensible, and brought it into the existence(s) of those who could know of and experience it. Bringing 'paradise' to those who were never meant to realise what it was. Forcing onto them the Arcane, even when done with the best intentions.

For the suffering Zaunites, they have everything they could possibly want: food, water, shelter, rest, belonging, peace, survival; the life that they once could only dream of having. It's perfect. They don't have to be in pain, not anymore.

But the commune is isolated. This is very much seen in the gate symbolism: all are welcome, but once inside, you'll never want to leave. You'll never have to. Because to be cured by the hands of the Herald means to bear his mark. To be saved is to bind yourself to him.

The open archway is also a taunt: the gate is open, it'll always be open, but would you ever risk going back out? Would you really trade this for anything else?

Are you truly willing to leave paradise? Are you truly willing to part with the Arcane?

The Arcane, which had given them everything they'd yearned for through Viktor.

Now, see here: Vi catches a glimpse of Singed exiting Viktor's abode. It's presumably the healing tent, as his main 'bubble' (the place where he 'recharges', so to speak) is the one in the distance.

The point is: Vi sees Singed leave the healing tent. What makes this suspicious is the fact that the man left unhealed.

Note that, prior to this point, the sisters have reconciled and were even willing to stay in this little underground haven despite their initial scepticisms. They, just like everyone else, have been lulled into the comfort the commune provided. So, to see someone else suddenly exiting Viktor's watch—someone with no traces of the Herald's touch, someone who's still bandaged and deformed—is a wake-up call.

Why else would you go into the healing tent, to the commune, if not to have yourself cured or seek respite? Why is this man, who'd obviously be easier work to deal with compared to Vander, not 'saved'?

Vi follows him. Then, Singed leaves the commune entirely.

In her eyes, someone had willingly turned away from 'paradise'.

Logically, this begs the question: Why?

Because that's where the fantasy ends.

Right as Vi comes to the gate, the camera cuts to that Noxian spear upfront. A threat to the 'perfection' that existed within the borders. A reminder that the world outside still exists; a world that Viktor hasn't touched in its entirety, a world that still begs to be saved, a world that is still human at its core brimming and simmering.

That's the reason Viktor's named a herald: he's an omen. He'd brought about a transformation to those he healed. To the slums. Providing a drastic shift in people's lives (or whatever 'life' still counted for those he'd influenced) that left many devastated when Jayce blew a hole in his chest.

By spreading the use of the Arcane through other agents (again, the 'healed'), he essentially reproduced the effects of the power that he had at his disposal, while at the same time allowed himself to better comprehend how the Arcane worked—and by extension, allowed that very power to adapt.

But at the same time, he himself is also the key to undoing it.

From Jayce and Ekko, S2E3:

Viktor hypothesised that there may be something he called 'wild runes'. Patterns that occur naturally when the border between our world and the Arcane is thin. Runes like the ones you use in Hextech. What's the difference between those and wild runes? Pass me a tome. So, I used words you understood in order to elicit your action. This is what Hextech runes are. Pass me a tome. Pass me a tome! There—you sighed. Still a kind of language. A sound, but not words. Something raw; natural. That's wild runes. In most places, the Arcane is dormant—but here and there, it's more active. Wild runes are— —sort of like its fingerprints. Exactly! ...so, you're telling me: that pattern is on my tree, because you pissed the Arcane off with all your demands?

Viktor being infused with the Hexcore—which we can reasonably assume is a wild rune, as can also be seen with its matrix—makes it so that he himself acts as what a Hextech rune would do to it (the Hexcore). Through Viktor, the Arcane is refined, and in a process that doesn't completely destabilise (compared to pure Hextech, as can be seen with the weapons). For Viktor to lose control or to be harmed means making that magic either go wild (the weapons) or make it dissipate (the commune).

That's why the fantasy 'ends' at the entrance of the commune: anything past that is out of Viktor's reach, and remains 'untouched' by the Arcane.

From Jinx, S1E5:

So, all about these runes: they form some sort of mathy, magicky gateway...to the realm of heebie-jeebies. And this turns it on!

Say it again: the runes make a gateway. The Hexcore was a rune matrix, an array of wild runes that formed a singular entity. An entity which is now 'one' with Viktor. It means being the 'Herald' is also being the 'gateway' for the Arcane. The traditional role of a herald is to proclaim and carry messages; we don't know what message the Arcane itself wants to send, but we do know for a fact that Viktor is at least doing its work in creating that commune in the slums of Zaun.

From Singed, S1E6 & S2E6:

The mutation must survive. You must survive, Viktor.

The Machine Herald himself is self-replicating and self-annihilating. He can 'cure' the afflicted, thus infusing the Arcane into other individuals and replicating its structure inside them. And at the same time, the Arcane is also what 'kills' him—with Jayce using (what looked to be a mutated version of) the hexcrystal of his hammer to blow through Viktor's chest, where we know the Hexcore was placed during Jayce's revival of him in Act 1.

This is why the commune, despite its purpose as a safe haven, also exists as a place of great danger. Why it really isn't all That™, even despite Viktor creating it as a safe space for many.

See this exchange between Vi and Jinx:

This place...do you think it could actually work? Underground utopia, run by a skinny tin Machine Herald. Maybe when Piltover slides into the Sump.

Jinx was right in calling it for what it is, despite the words being in jest. A utopia. Working 'when Piltover slides into the Sump'.

It's an impractical scheme. Too perfect. Too good to be true.

An impossibility.

Do you believe in fate, Doctor? Our paths carved before us. Guided by an invisible hand? Not fate. Evolution. Nature's greatest force, forever in flux. No. Evolution has a destination. Not to combat nature, but to supersede it. The final, glorious evolution. But he isn't a specimen—he's a man. And he needs my help. I will not sacrifice his humanity for your cause. You may leave. Very well. But I assume you understand already: if you perish, this community is soon to follow.

Viktor understands. He understands. He just wasn't ready to admit it to himself when Singed said it.

I understand now. The message hidden within the pattern. The reason for our failures in the commune. The doctor was right—it's inescapable. Humanity.

Human nature and human essence aren't self-sustaining. That's why the Arcane was so effective in 'healing' all those people. Their humanity hampered them from healing themselves; both in the sense of the human bodily condition (the limits of the physical self), and in the sense of humaneness (of empathy, of choice). The human body cannot survive its own traumas without an artificial means of a cure (case in point: Vander). And the Arcane acted as its solution.

Mere instinct doesn't let you live—you need to learn how to direct your life after survival. To adapt. To grow. Humanity, self-replicating and self-annihilating; the escape from that cycle, that's the glorious evolution Viktor speaks of.

A utopia. Impossible and impractical. Humanity: that which inspires us to our greatest good, and the cause of our greatest evil.

[xdinaryvamp]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 💿 ` ricky “three point shot”!!

where you love to watch basketball games, even if you know nothing about the game, and a player loves to watch you, even if he doesn't even know your name.

genre : fluff, gn reader. 

pairings : basketball player!ricky × spectator!reader.

when you needed to distract yourself a bit, you always went for a walk in a park that wasn't too far from your house.

sometimes you walked while listening to music on your headphones, completely losing yourself in the landscape. other times you stopped in the shade to read a book, or to review some topic for the next exam. and sometimes, instead, you sat in the stands of the small basketball court in the center of the park, watching the people playing.

you had never been particularly good at basketball, nor did you know the rules well, but it was a sport that, for some reason, you had always enjoyed watching. and you weren't the only one doing it either: there was always a small crowd of people watching the games, even if they were mostly young kids.

a "serious" game had never been played on that court, and in your city there wasn't even a real basketball team, but some boys and girls often met to play games, momentarily becoming the celebrities of the park. one of these, in particular, had already noticed you sitting in those stands for a while. match after match he met your gaze, but you promptly forgot about it, concentrated as you were on trying to understand which team was winning (it was difficult when they didn't wear the same shirts).

one day, before a match, he sat next to you. and you, at that moment, didn't even recognize him as one of the players, but simply as another spectator.

"you really like basketball, huh?" he asked you, exactly a moment before you decided to lean over a little to have more space.

“uh?” 

“when i play,” he explained, pointing with a finger at the basketball court "i almost always see you sitting here. i could almost start thinking i have a fan.” he smiled, looking back at you.

“oh” for some reason it made you feel a little awkward knowing that there was someone who had noticed you for so long "i really like watching the game, even though I don't actually how to play it." you added, out of fear that he would invite you to play because maybe he was missing a player. but that wasn't the reason he was talking to you.

“so i don’t have a fan.” he joked, resting his chin on his hand. “what a pity.”

you laughed, purposely pretending to think about it. "i just told you that i don't know much about basketball, how would i identify the best player?” you explained, though not very seriously, “i only become a fan of the best.”

he smiled amusedly, then rose from the stand to stand in front of you.

“if u won the match today, would you do me the honor of going to eat something out with me?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“why should i do that?” you asked, confused as to what this had to do with what you had just said. but not against the idea; he was still a charming boy to say the least.

“well, if i won i'd be the best, and then you'd know who to be a fan of,” he said, counting the explanations he was giving on his fingers, “i would also take advantage of the hangout to explain the game to you. unless you want to do something else.” he crossed his arms over his chest, looking at you with an expression that must have seemed confident, but to you it simply looked funny.

you laughed again, shaking your head. “fine. if you win, i'll go out with you.”

he smiled at you, before being called back by one of the players who was waiting for him to start the game.

“i'm ricky, by the way.” 

“y/n.”

“such a beautiful name.” he said, before running onto the basketball court and winning the game.

i literally haven't even reread it, but i needed to get some cliché fluff out of my head. and what better than a classic basketball player? ( i'm a slvt for them, send help )

[goldencuffs]

afterglow

inspired by the spectral files series by s.e. harmon!!

The ghost appears in his office after Damen comes back from his lunch break. 

Damen’s had a rough week already. The free pad thai in his belly right now is literally the best thing that’s happened to him in months. That’s not even an exaggeration.

The ghost in his office has been around before. He showed up a few weeks ago, at the start of summer, his expression boyish, sunny, hands in his pockets as he’d surveyed Damen’s office with visible interest. Then he had followed Damen to the kitchen and watched him make tea. And then he had pulled faces last Tuesday, during their morning briefings, gagging at the photos of Victor Reynold’s dismembered body. 

“I smell Thai,” the ghost says now. He’s pouting. “I want Thai. I love Thai food.” 

Damen ignores him, sitting behind his desk and logging into his computer. It’s only twelve in the afternoon. Damen wants to throw himself off the ledge of the building. 

The ghost struts about his office, still talking, listing off the other cuisines he loves (Mexican, Indian, Lebanese, Italian) as Damen pretends to read his latest case notes.

“Not going to lie though, definitely shat myself when I had that. I’m talking blocked pipes and everything.” The ghost shakes his head. “Man, that was a rough weekend.”

Damen sighs. 

The ghost perks up. “I know you can see me, man. You always get that face when I’m talking to you.”

Damen picks up a pen, just so he has something to do. So he can school his face into something more neutral. 

Of course Damen can see the ghost. He sees ghosts all the time. He’s seen them since he was seven years old. As a kid, he didn’t know the children he would play with were dead until Nikandros’ foot had gone through the football they were kicking around. 

Since then, Damen’s seen them everywhere. There was a widow who used to hang around Kastor’s old place, shrilly telling him off for painting the kitchen the wrong colour. Kastor had moved out three weeks after Damen had told him that. 

Most of the time, ghosts leave him alone. Sometimes they get excited when they realise he can see them. Sometimes they just want to talk. Some of them have harmless requests, like messages they want to pass on to a loved one.

And sometimes there are ghosts like the ones in his office, who don’t seem to have anywhere to go, who only seem to be attached to him.

The last ghost like that had been Aimeric Gaul, this skinny, baby-faced kid who had sad, wide eyes. He could only go where Damen could, and kept mentioning how much he missed his mother. 

Three months into watching Aimeric cry in the corner of his office, Damen had driven down to Fortaine to see his mother. Aimeric had sat in the front seat, wide-eyed as he watched the rolling landscape.

When Damen had told Aimeric’s mother that he had a message from her dead son, her husband had pointed a gun to his forehead and said, Get the fuck off my property.

Damen was placed on suspension after that.

So, yeah. He’s wary of the ghosts like this—the ones that are, inevitably, drawn to him. They’re the ones that cause trouble. 

Damen’s been through enough, thanks. He’s only just back from his suspended time off, and Jokaste has cleared the last of her things from their place, and sometimes he still panics when he can’t find the ring on his left hand, until he remembers that it’s shoved in a drawer in his closet. 

The ghost is still talking. “You know what I really miss though? Dumplings. Highly underrated, man. When’s the last time you had one? Take it from me—have as many dumplings as you can while you’re still alive. ‘Cause, one day you’re gonna be dead, and there’s no fucking dumplings here. Which is shit if you think about it, the least—”

Damen’s phone rings. He picks it up, glad for the distraction. 

Makedon’s voice is no-nonsense. “My office, now. Bring coffee.” And then he hangs up. 

Damen deliberately doesn’t bring the coffee. Makedon frowns at him, but doesn’t say anything else. 

He pushes a file towards him. “Welcome back, kid. Latest cold case is all yours.”

Damen groans. “Seriously? You’re assigning me to cold cases? What about Reynold’s murder? I hear they need more manpower.”

“Nah.” Makedon shakes his head. “Don’t think you’re in the right headspace for all that shit.” 

“That shit?” Damen repeats, frowning. “You mean, my job?”

Makedon stares at him for a few beats. “This is part of your job too, detective. Everyone gets assigned cold cases every now and then.”

“Bullshit,” Damen snaps. “You haven’t assigned me a real case in months, even before—” And here, he falters, too ashamed to bring up Aimeric. 

Makedon isn’t a soft man. Everything about him is rigid and unmoveable. But he does relax his shoulders a little. 

“This isn’t just about what happened in Fortaine. When’s the last time you slept, kid?”

Damen frowns.

“Yeah, exactly. Divorce ain’t easy, and it’s clearly been affecting you more than you realise. You’re so… angry all the time. You clocked the new intern so badly last week, he had to go home early.”

Damen sighs, heart twisting a little. Yeah, okay, yelling at Erasmus in front of everyone hadn’t been a good move, but Damen had his reasons.

…He just can’t remember them right now. 

“Work the case with Huet,” Makedon continues, “He’s good company, and isn’t afraid to step up.” 

Damen snatches the file. “Whatever,” he mutters darkly. “What’s the case?”

Makedon sighs. “Some kid drove himself into a lake about a decade ago. Was conclusively claimed as a suicide at the time, but his brother’s statement is pretty interesting, suggests foul play.”

Damen’s eyebrows raise. “Murder?”

Makedon shrugs. “The brother was thirteen at the time, and very close with the victim. So it could be an emotional thing. But…”

“But?”

“He pointed fingers at their uncle. Claimed he had strong evidence it could be a murder, but no one really looked into it too closely.”

“Hmm,” Damen says. “So, what, we’re supposed to go on the word of a teenager?”

“A very persistent teenager. Have a look—he’s called at least several times a year to see if the case has been reopened.”

“No shit,” Damen says in surprise. “He actually share any of this evidence, though? Or tell us why the uncle could be the perpetrator?” 

“That’s your job to find out.” Makedon yawns. “Where’s my fucking coffee?”

But Damen doesn’t pay attention to him. The first page of the case file is a headshot of the victim. 

Damen knows that face. He just left him in his office.

***

Auguste Henri Revere is—was—twenty-five when he died. 

He was incredibly popular, well-liked, and good at pretty much everything he did. Damen reads everything in his file: football captain, scholarship student at Arles University, part-time volunteer at the children’s hospital…

He doesn’t seem like the guy who would kill himself. Then again, the worst part about this job has always been that people can surprise you—in the worst ways possible. 

Nothing about his death is suspicious. It happened close to midnight, near a popular stretch of road in the city centre. There were several witnesses that saw a cream 1972 Ford Mustang veer off the road, straight into the lake. Police found a suicide note typed on Auguste’s laptop. He had cleaned his room the night before, donated things like clothes, jewellery, and sneakers. 

Damen reads what Laurent Gabriel Revere said. Now that statement is strange. Laurent was thirteen when Auguste died. Sources say they were close, that Auguste doted on him, especially since they were orphans, living with their uncle. Two years after Auguste died, Laurent showed up at the police station and accused their uncle of killing Auguste. He claimed he had evidence, but failed to elaborate. Witnesses said they had heard Laurent and his uncle fighting at the Revere home just half an hour before Laurent showed up at the police station. 

Police issued a search warrant at the Revere house. His uncle had readily complied. Nothing had been found. Nothing had been found in Auguste’s recovered car either. And there was never an autopsy done on his body. 

“Huh,” Damen says. 

He looks up at Auguste, who’s staring at the view outside his floor-to-ceiling windows. For the first time since he showed up in his office, Damen feels sorry for him. Auguste is twelve years older than him, but now here he is, forever twenty-five. Damen’s older than him now, and it’s strange to think about. What makes him more deserving of life? He isn’t even a good person—not the way Auguste is. Was. 

It’s not the most conventional way to start an investigation, but hey, he might as well. “How’d you die?” Damen asks.

Auguste turns to him blinking. His eyebrows raise. “That’s the first thing you say to me after all this time? Jesus, that’s cold, man.”

Damen bites his bottom lip. “Do you remember the day you died? Did you… er.” He can’t bring himself to say kill yourself. 

“The day I died? Hmm.” Auguste’s golden eyebrows furrow. “Let me see… I took Laurent out that day. We went to the fair, and he kept pretending he was too old to go on the rides.” His smile turns fond. “Then we… I dropped him home. I went to meet some friends but I don’t think I made it.”

“Fuck!” Damen scrambles up from his seat, and he’s grateful that his office door is closed. He doesn’t think he could explain to anyone why he’s so horrified. 

Blood streaks down from Auguste’s mouth, the corner of his eyes. His clothes are soaked through, turning transparent. His golden hair is matted and wet against his scalp.

Auguste moans. “I don’t feel so good. I don’t… I can’t talk about this anymore.” 

The blood starts pouring out of his ears. 

Damen stands, paralysed, unable to move. 

And then in a blink, Auguste disappears.

***

“Damn,” Huet says. “How much do you think this place will sell for? Three mill right? I mean, at least.” 

“Shut up,” Damen says. Huet is a new recruit and he is far too peppy and talks far too much. He is definitely not good company. 

Privately, Damen agrees about the house. It’s huge, a sprawling mansion adorned with steep, gabled peaks and chimneys, topped with slate tiles that glisten in the sunlight.  Ivy and climbing roses cling to the walls. As well as being Superman, Auguste was also apparently incredibly rich. 

The man who opens the door is undoubtedly related to Auguste. It’s the eyes—Damen has been staring at those blue eyes in photos and in his office for weeks now.

Richard Revere is in his mid-fifties. His hair is dark, coiled, and his beard is trimmed and peppered with white. There are rings on each of his fingers—giant gemstones that glisten as he shakes Damen and Huet’s hands as they introduce themselves.

He has no qualms about being questioned and invites them in. 

Damen’s eyebrows raise. They’re greeted by a grand foyer with a sweeping marble staircase, its balustrade intricately wrought iron, leading to the upper floors. The interior is a blend of opulence and warmth, with high ceilings, ornate moldings, and crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over the richly decorated rooms. Antique furniture, plush draperies, and elegant tapestries fill the spaces, each room telling its own story of centuries past.

Richard has no issues with them being in his house. Damen has done this for long enough to go by his gut—and so far this man doesn’t seem like a murderer. He just seems like a rich man from an affluent society. 

Richard makes them tea, and then says, “So. You’ve opened my nephew’s case again?”

“We have,” Damen says. They’re sitting on the most comfortable armchairs he’s ever been, in a room with far too many books and far too many globes. 

“Interesting.” Richard sips his tea. For the first time, his tone is cold, disapproving. “May I ask why? I believe the last set of detectives were incredibly thorough.”

Damen nods. “I’m sure they were. But you understand we’re in a delicate position. We can’t brush off… certain statements.”

“Ah.” Richard’s mouth quirks in amusement. “So this is about Laurent, then.” 

It’s Huet who nods this time. He says, “He called the last leading detective just six months ago, sir. He’s still adamant about…” He awkwardly trails off. 

Now Richard looks very amused. “Oh, I see. Of course. Did you know Laurent happens to make those calls to the police station every time we have a fight?” 

“Well,” Damen says, as Huet makes a note of that. “We’d like to talk to him too. Is he around?”

“He is.” Richard nods. “Upstairs, sleeping.”

Damen doesn’t react when Auguste appears in the living room. He looks like his usual self, dry and golden, free of blood. 

“You need to go upstairs,” Auguste says, and for the first time, there’s a note of frustration in his voice. “I can only go where you go. I want to go upstairs. I want to see my room. I want to see Laurent.” 

“We’ll come back later then,” Damen says. He ignores Auguste’s No! 

Richard leads them back out into the sunlight. Auguste trails after them, eyes flicking over every inch of the house, his gaze wondrous. It fills Damen with pity. 

They make their goodbyes out on the porch. Damen can see some of the neighbours take interest in their police car, but Richard seems unfazed. 

A portly woman at the end of the driveway asks them, “Laurent again? He’s a shame to the Revere name.”

Huet raises both eyebrows. Damen makes a mental note of that.

As they walk to the car, they hear a frantic, whispered. “Hey!”

Auguste gasps. “Laurent.” 

Damen follows his eyes. There’s a window at the side of the house on the second level. Someone’s opened it up enough to wave at them. 

Damen steps closer. Auguste rushes up to the window. “Laurent!” 

Laurent doesn’t hear his brother. But he does notice Damen approaching and beckons him over. 

Damen stands under the window, shoulder to shoulder with a dead man, and looks up at the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

Laurent’s hair is golden, falling across those same stunning, blue eyes, his lashes long and dark. His skin is luminous and sweetly pink. 

“Damn,” Huet says under his breath. 

“He’s so grown up,” Auguste whispers. 

“You’re here for Auguste’s case?” Laurent says. 

Damen has to strain to hear him. Laurent’s voice is low, anxious, like he’s worried about being caught. 

“Yeah, we are.” Damen clears his throat, which is suddenly scratchy.

Something bright sparks in Laurent’s eyes. He’s still whispering. “Great. You think you can meet me at the diner down the road in an hour? I can’t get away until he leaves the house.”

That instantly sets alarm bells in Damen’s head. He frowns. 

“God, he looks so different,” Auguste says.

Damen nods at Laurent, who’s still anxious, still waiting for a response. 

“Okay, we’ll see you.”

Laurent nods and shuts the window, disappearing from view. After a moment, Auguste does too.