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astheswarmitcalls · 4 months

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PART 1: THE FOUNDATIONS OF DECAY

This is the first part of my 4-part analysis of MCR5, the Masterpost for which can be found here. Link to next part found at the bottom of the post. If there's something I missed, or you'd like to add your own spin/elaborate on something I brushed over, by all means I'd love to hear it!!

Although The Foundations of Decay was released as a single, I still believe it has heavy ties to MCR5 or has the potential to be re-released as part of the album. I’m going to go line-by-line through the song and dissect the language that links to the narrative and themes of MCR5:

“See the man who stands upon the hill

He dreams of all the battles won”

‘The man’ is referring to a leader, perhaps a general or the President. The hill he is standing on isn’t likely to be an actual hill, but maybe a stage, or a ‘hill’ of bodies, innocents killed in the fallout of war or bodies left behind in the wake of his power. He dreams of winning battles as either a political move to crush his enemies, or he hopes that the battles he wins will grant peace for his nation. OR ‘the man’ is a survivor, standing on the hill of bodies of those not as fortunate as him. He dreams of battles won so he may have peace. I’m thinking now it may be the latter because of the subsequent lyrics.

“But fate had left its scars upon his face

With all the damage they had done”

This may be referring to physical injury that he has suffered, or the fact having suffered war, his trauma reflects on his facial expression. He has been weighed down by the acts he has witnessed or has committed himself. As either a political figure or a survivor, these lines can also be linked to 9/11, which is referenced later in this song.

“And so tired with age, he turns the page

Let the flesh submit itself to gravity”

This man is old and grows tired of the conflict, and in turning the page he tries to move on. I can see these lyrics also mirroring the band’s journey; MCR formed over 20 years ago, and they’re ready to turn the page to a new era. ‘Let the flesh submit itself to gravity’ can refer to letting people fall/die as he cannot find it in himself to save them/take action OR again, linking with 9/11, he is stuck in the towers as they collapse and he, like many others, seeks escape by jumping out.

The opening verse ties into the events in which the album will reference heavily/explore the fallout of. This makes sense for a concept explored post-MCR reunion; they’re revisiting their origins, recontextualising the events but exploring the themes of anti-war in a contemporary manner. They’re walking the line between iconography and narrative that feels familiar, close enough to form, but still modern in its ethos. The attacks on the World Trade Centre, happened over 20 years ago but war and terrorism does not let up. If anything, we have been seeing much more war in the past few years, overseas and political war in our streets.

“Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame

Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain”

‘Let our bodies lay’ may refer to letting rest one you are refusing to let go. This is a plead, a request, from MCR to let its old self lay to rest to make room for this new era of creation. People will hold onto that nostalgia, that desire for a return to what’s familiar, but what’s comfortable for the psyche might not always be what is healthy for the individual. ‘Mark our hearts with shame’ likely rings true to all the people demanding for the ‘Old MCR.’ The shame may also refer to survivors’ guilt, survivors of war or terrorism etc. ‘Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain’ War generates corpses, martyrs, and in times of hardship, when so many are dying needlessly, people often turn to religion. ‘Let our blood’ also brings forth imagery of bloodletting, the medical technique of age old where patients were drained of a large body of their blood, and it was believed it would purge them of illness. Obviously, this practice is done in vain, because bloodletting does nothing to aid in healing.

Allusions to religion/Catholicism are not new to MCR. ‘Thank You for the Venom’ and ‘House of Wolves’ both refence religious settings in their lyrics. With reference to God and use of ‘shame’, ‘canonized’, ‘saint’ and ‘altar’, we’re getting subtle nods to Catholicism. I am not Catholic and don’t have experience with a Catholic upbringing, but for what I can infer there’s a lot to be said about Catholic guilt, the belief we’re all born sinners, that if we suffer it’s God’s will. Gerard Way has said that being raised Catholic is ‘some scary shit,’ and I don’t believe they’re Catholic anymore. Here’s what they had to say in 2013 via Twitter:

“I was raised Catholic, which turned me off from religion because I had a very bad experience. Then, as a young adult, a death in the family resulted in a lot of anger and an even greater distance between me and faith, though I had always acknowledged I received my artistic gifts from God.”

I don’t believe for this song to be a critique on Catholicism, but more so alluding to those beliefs in a way that ties into the ethos of the album. First, with rebirth, like redemption. Redemption in the eye of God, repentance? Second, the whole ideology around suffering. We are not born sinners, and we don’t have to suffer to be granted a spot in heaven; likewise, you don’t have to be all fucked in the head to create good art. Gerard Way spoke of this, of having to feel depressed to make good music, which isn’t true in the slightest. You don’t have to torture yourself to create meaningful art. You deserve healing, and to pick yourself up from that debris and continue to create with a newfound perspective. Suffering and worthiness are not inextricable, people deserve to heal.

“Now, if your convictions were a passing phase

May your ashes feed the river in the morning rays

And as the vermin crawls, we lay in the foundations of decay”

Hope for those who betrayed their values/promises (political leaders) to burn and have their destruction create a foundation for progress and healing. WE ARE THE VERMIN!!! We swarm and infest and refuse to die. We eat rockstars alive. We feed off the decay in which our very same are trying to rise from. The Foundations of Decay is about rising from the rot, reanimation, using your own discarded remains to rebuild and grow from. This ties so beautifully with the ethos of MCR’s return, as well as the narrative surrounding the businesswoman, which I’ll get into later. Gerard Way you insane motherfucker I love you.

“He was there the day the towers fell

And so he wandered down the road”

Pretty simple here; Gerard Way witnessed 9/11, and that prompted them to start MCR and make positive change in a world that had been uprooted by terrorism.

“And we would all build towers of our own

Only to watch the roots corrode”

I believe this to be a direct reference to My Chem’s journey and eventual breakup. Initially, they were this scrappy, punk rock band from New Jersey with one goal in mind: to spread their message that it’s okay to be a little fucked-up. The commercial success that would follow each album was unheard of from a band of their background. These ‘towers’ refer to the name they had built for themselves at the height of their career, but those corroding roots wouldn’t be able to support them. A multitude of factors were at play in My Chem’s breakup, and ultimately the break would be vital for the health of the band.

“But it's much too late, you're in the race

So we'll press and press 'til you can't take it anymore”

Clear statement of resistance; ‘you’ve brought this upon yourself, we are unhappy, and we will make sure you know it.’ ‘We’ll press and press’ brings imagery of crowds, masses,,,, some may even say,,,, swarms. I’ll say it again, we are the vermin! We are the swarm! We are the infestation that runs rampant over the decay.

“Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame

Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain”

Same as before.

“And if, by his own hand, his spirit flies

Take his body as a relic to be canonized

Now, and so he gets to die a saint

But she will always be a whore”

A political/military leader has died as a fallout of the conflict. A corrupt man dies and the nation mourns. Maybe not even a prominent figure, just a man. ‘By his own hand’ may refer to his martyrdom, dying by his own hand as he had fuelled the conflict that would kill him. Canonization is the act of declaring a dead person a saint. This man is held in high regard in his death, but the woman? Here we have these little inklings of character that tease the potential for MCR5. I’m going to revisit this character, this woman, a little later (a good 10,000 or so words to be exact), but she isn’t held in the same regard as the man because she’s a woman. She may be a survivor, but ultimately, she is just another tragic woman to be objectified and mythologised. He is a saint, but she is a whore, she is impure and unfaithful.

(Would like to add here we hear the line ‘You look stressed out!’ I think this is directed towards the woman, probably from a coworker or her partner. More will be revealed in due time.)

“Against faith (cage all the animals)

Against all odds ('cause the message must be pure)

Against change (you can wander through the ruins)

We are free (but the poison is the cure)”

We’ve got two opposing viewpoints; the hopeful resistance and the oppressors, the symbol of war.

The resistance fight back against the odds, against faith and against change. They fight back against control and war. Are we the resistance? The rats and vermin and swarm? The swarm runs rampant, in a sense we may have the most freedom. Also what Gerard said on tour “That may be true (that they’re unhinged/crazy with the new outfits), but I am free”. The lyrics in parenthesis are the words of the oppressors. ‘Cage all the animals ‘cause the message must be pure.’ WE ARE THE ANIMALS!! THE VERMIN SWARM!!! We are polluting the message, the belief we need war, with our resistance. We carry disease, probably. ‘You can wander through the ruins but the poison is the cure.’ They’re telling us we can try to rebuild from our own decay, but we’ll find solace in what has hurt us. We don’t need war! Poison and cure also tie to the theme of healing. Anti-venom may be used to treat exposure to venom, that much is true, but it’s not the same. Poison will not cure you if you have been poisoned. An antidote might, but ingesting more poison on top of poison will just kill you faster. This ties into Gerard’s psychology in the early days of MCR, that you have to torture yourself to create art. I’ll explore this more in the next part.

“You must fix your heart

And you must build an altar where it swells”

This prechorus goes so insanely hard. Fixing your heart, healing yourself and giving yourself the space to care about other people alongside yourself, and building an altar referring to protecting/cherishing that connection. Honour your emotions, honour your empathy, honour your capacity for love. All this ties back into overarching themes of rebirth and healing.

I’ve got more to add to this; I just started reading the MCR biography Not The Life It Seems, and I’ve found an excerpt that really strikes me:

“In order for us to make something great, we have to give up normality,’ he said. ‘I certainly feel you have to suffer for your art. I feel that if we don’t suffer, then it’s not going to be sincere and honest. If we don’t suffer then the songs don’t come from a real place. The songs are always about extremely dark things; we can’t fake that. I guess the chaos that comes at us and surrounds us and occasionally tries to tear us apart is maybe self-created. So I guess there is a little masochistic side to us but it is the willingness to suffer for our art that’s more important. We don’t feel like we’ve made true art unless we’ve suffered a great deal. Only people who have suffered a great deal have something to say.”

There’re multiple instances of Gerard voicing these thoughts, the belief that you need to be suffering to create something worthwhile. ‘You must fix your heart’ I believe is a direct response to that. You don��t need to tear yourself open to create good music, you should cherish yourself first and foremost. The themes of healing are intrinsically tied to the fabric of the band’s return. Instead of ripping themselves apart to write music, they’re writing music that is cathartic and healing. I cannot stress enough that this era of MCR is my favourite. Their previous albums have had so much cultural impact and have saved lives, but in my mind the health of the band comes before the music. I’m so glad they’ve returned now and that they’re not slicing themselves open to create art.

“When the storm, it gains and the sky, it rains

Let it flood, let it flood, let it wash away”

May be reaching a little bit, but this seems too overt to not be a Noah’s Ark reference. With so much reference of decay, destruction, war, rebirth etc. this can’t not be a nod to Noah’s Ark. In the story, Noah is instructed by God to build a massive boat as he means to flood the entire earth, purging it of evil before starting again and it’s his mission to save all his followers and the animals. We are instructed to let the flood come, let all the evil in the world be washed away and revel in their destruction. We’re heading much more into rebirth territory, and is this song, the reunion, not a form of rebirth for the band? Gerard also said to ‘embrace the plague, embrace the unfair, embrace the absurd.’ Embrace the storm, embrace the change.

“And as you stumble through your last crusade

Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays?

And as the swarm it calls, we lay in the foundations”

These lines are directed towards the oppressors. The crusade is another biblical/religious reference, men who, on a request to reclaim holy land (that wasn’t theirs for thousands of years either), left destruction in their wake in the name of their God. Welcoming extinction in the morning rays being metaphor for the new age, a new world that is anti-government, anti-war, anti-capitalism. ‘We’re entering a new era, are you ready to say goodbye now that you’re unneeded?’

“Yes, it comforts me much more

Yes, it comforts me much more

To lay in the foundations of decay

Get up, coward”

This outro lies on just the right side of unorthodox, but I love it. It’s comfortable to concede, to lay in your decay, it’s ultimately the easier and safer option. ‘Get up coward!’ Is a call to action, likely to the song’s narrator themselves (I’m guessing the Businesswoman but I’ll get into that later). ‘I’m sure it’s comforting to lie in your own rot but we have shit to do!’ Again, marrying into those themes of rebirth, a plea to come forth from the decay and build something from those foundations.

The Foundations of Decay tells the story of MCR’s own conception and rebirth, but also carries such explicit themes of anti-war sentiment. There are the explicit ties to 9/11 and the subsequent conflicts scattered throughout the verses, which tie into MCR’s origin but also gives us background on some of the characters that may be introduced in the concept album. The allusions to biblical stories further build upon these reoccurring themes of rebirth and purification. Us, the resistance, against the poisonous pro-war rhetoric, are the swarm that infests the decay and refuses to die.

NEXT PART >>>

#mcr #my chemical romance #mcr5 #mcr5 theory #mcr5 is real #btw this whole thing took about 3 weeks to write and edit #I ask kindly you don't let my efforts in vain but also it's cool if this is just Here yaknow?

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wallisninety-six · 8 months

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Endless Ocean - Remembering Dennis Wilson and "Pacific Ocean Blue" (1977)

"When my record was finished, Brian was the first to hear it. In the middle of some tracks he'd say, "I can't stand this" and walk out of the room. Sometimes he'd laugh. Sometimes he'd cry. I guess he was thinking that he'd seen me grow up as a musician." - Dennis Wilson, 1977

This coming December will see the 40th anniversary of the death of Dennis Wilson in 1983- the first loss in the Beach Boys and the culmination of an intense, fast-paced life filled with extreme parental abuse, commercial highs and lows with the band, and heavy trauma from events of the late 60s- oftentimes using copious amounts of drugs & alcohol to cope in the last years of his increasingly troubled life. But even in darkest times, Dennis also refused to slow down for his music, and his passion for it either- and that fact should not be forgotten while discussing his life.

Famously the only surfer in the band, as well as its drummer- Dennis was the bad boy of the group- charismatic & popular with fans, and living a true rocker style; hardly anyone thought of him as a talented songwriter, though. But he- not brother Brian, would be the first member to officially release a solo album, itself a culmination of his songwriting history that started in Beach Boys albums like Friends and the wonderful Sunflower. This work is 1977's Pacific Ocean Blue- which he largely wrote and produced with longtime songwriting partner Gregg Jakobson, and is the only album he released in his lifetime.

At this time, Dennis' rough lifestyle had begun to affect him- his voice had become much more raspy and rough, almost leading us to believe he was tough as nails from life & experience and moving away from the tender songwriting from the past. But with Pacific Ocean Blue, we witness Dennis at his most open, most brutally honest and at his most sensitive and heartfelt too- pouring out his soul and never modifying his expression to make his big debut more pop or radio-friendly like most labels wanted him & The Beach Boys to be- what's here is him at most genuine, uncompromised in every way.

Dennis' rough voice complimented the songs and subjects of the album well and makes his earnest feelings that much more believable, and with the very welcome inclusion of the Double Rock Baptist Choir- the backing vocals moved away from the expected Beach Boys vocal style (though members like brother Carl and Mike Love would appear here too)- but bacame more soulful and yearning to match the moods of the songs. For their part- the song's lyrics are simple yet visibly honest, not bogged down with complex lyricism, but plainspoken to be much more direct with the listener, helping to elevate the music instead of distracting from it.

With all of this in mind (and considering Dennis' own musical style) overt emotion and mood triumphs over all- he had been depressed by his break-up with his wife Karen Lamm-Wilson, finally charted out his own musical path away from the Beach Boys as the band was practically hanging by a thread, and was utterly dismayed by environmental destruction and degradation in California- as seen in the terrific, thundering opener "River Song". Thanks to the (severely underrated) talent of Dennis and Gregg's production work, the whole album is surrounded by a full and intricate wall of sound and emotion- and as a result, the album has a atmospheric sadness to it that pervades it all, but it also shines and expresses itself in many different ways. If the Beach Boys famously signified a sunny day on the beach- Dennis' work was the thick June Gloom that blanketed the whole ocean.

But that didn't mean that all of the songs on the album were grim- Dennis shows appreciation for life, love, and music in a way only he could, like in the heavenly-sounding and mandolin-filled track "Rainbows" and the somber-yet-greatful tone of "Farewell My Friend". The theme of loss in the latter song hits harder in hindsight- while Dennis had been working on a new album (work-titled 'Bambu') his indulgence in excess worsened to the point where his body and mind deteriorated rapidly and never recovered. He would drown in Marina del Rey in California- He was only 39. He was cremated and his ashes would be scattered over the Pacific Ocean.

But while many are quick to bring up Dennis' rough life & end and (almost solely) paint him as a tragic figure to set the mood for his obituary- it does a great disservice to his memory & the sheer joy writing music for others gave him (as he would state multiple times in interviews). And after being out of print for so long, Pacific Ocean Blue was finally re-released in 2008 and soon became wildly acclaimed by critics and fans, keeping his music alive for generations to come as much of his other unreleased work with the Beach Boys finally gets released officially to this very day- and what we can finally hear is gorgeous.

#dennis wilson #pacific ocean blue #pacific ocean blues #the beach boys #carl wilson #mike love #music #rock history #classic rock #music history #1970s #70s music #1977 #friends #sunflower #tw: abuse #tw: drugs #tw: alcohol

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loganscroftersstash · 10 months

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Isn't That Us On That Poster?

hihi back at you with another logan centric fic bc. brainrot. i am so normal abt him and orange. teehee.

i purposefully left him unnamed for multiple reasons soooo yeah!!! i've had this idea since i saw this post by@volno-pesh. its been on my mind. literally since i first saw it. this is just inspired by that post a little bit (a lot. i did make a whole scene out of one of the pieces of art they made.. and used the lyric from the same song they did.. BUT YEAH) sooo feel free to go enjoy that art!! bc its so <333

Summary: Logan doesn't like his counterpart very much. Pairing: Logan & Orange Side (platonic) Word Count: 2042 Tags: Hurt/No Comfort, Logan-centric, angst :3

enjoy!! (crossposted on ao3!)

A fluke was all it was. Logan never lost control like that. He’s had outbursts before— poor puppet Roman bore the brunt of it, he hardly ever got so violent— but this? He’s never…

The moment lingers in his mind like the taste of iron in his mouth, replaying over and over again. Logan felt more like Anxiety than he did Logic, right now. What was Remus going to do with this? Was he going to do anything? Maybe he’d blackmail Logan, use the information to get him to do his dirty work or evil bidding, or maybe he wouldn’t do anything. There was no reason for what he did, he just did, after all. But the very thought that Remus had witnessed it made Logan’s stomach twist and turn.

As he watches Thomas rush out the door and trip over boxes, and gives one last look over to the mess of the apartment, he sinks out, defeated. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This was his day. His day to help, to get through to Thomas and help him better achieve the best life he can possibly live. After all the hard work he’s done getting him organized, helping him and the others rationalize his intrusive thoughts— all the work that went into the very creation of the schedule itself! He’d done so much for so little and he was going to be demonized for getting upset with the fact that maybe, just maybe, he wanted a little recognition for once. Was it so much to ask for a thank you? If it was up to Patton it’d be mandated, if the Redux he was pulled from was any indication.

He rose back up in his room, feeling exhaustion slowly crawl up his spine and lay over him like a blanket made of lead. Logan knew he only had a minute or two to gather himself, collect his thoughts, and dry his eyes from the angry tears that threatened to spill over. He tossed his planner aside, for once uncaring of the way the pages landed sporadically on the bed and were sure to crease randomly, and took his glasses off. He set them on his dresser and pinched the bridge of his nose, moving his thumb and pointer finger up to rub at his temples as he let out a long sigh.

He was so tired...

Logan didn’t have time to be tired, though. He had a job and that was more important than his own exhaustion. He had to make sure that this little venture to the park was at least worth abandoning the entire day they’d planned out.

After a few long, arduous hours of watching, they’d finally been able to go home. Although the others were thrilled with not only the event but also the outcome, Logan just found himself feeling more bitter than he would’ve liked. He knew it was immature and a waste of time to hold a grudge… so he told himself not to.

Logan sank out, that same lead blanket weighing him down even more as he rises back up into his room. It holds him down as he trudges to his bathroom, flicking on the light and wincing at the usually welcome fluorescent lighting. He examines himself in the mirror, noting the slightly darker eye bags and the tousled hair, probably from him running his hands through it too much.

He takes off his glasses and sets them down, rubbing his eyes. He twists the cold tap on the sink and calmly watches as water flows from the faucet, hitting the white porcelain just loud enough to temporarily drown out his thoughts. He cups his hands beneath it and watches as they fill with water, before he leans down and splashes his face with it. The water makes him feel a little bit better, even if just for a moment. Logan repeats this twice more before he takes a towel, gently patting his face dry before he sets it down. He grabs his glasses and reframes them on his face, glancing up at his reflection once more before he flicks off the light. He closes the door to the bathroom and turns to face his bed again, only to be met with a figure clad in bright orange.

Logan jumps, his left hand bracing against the doorknob behind him and earning a chuckle from the other side. “Oh, Logan. Not expecting my visit?”

Logan glares at him. He’s still exhausted, even more so now after the date, but he couldn’t go to sleep with this… “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing.” He grinned, baring his teeth in a way that only read as predatory to Logan. Like he’d tear him apart if he was given the very chance. “Just wanted to see you.”

An unlikely occurrence, Logan thinks. Either Janus didn’t care to show up or he was being truthful. “I’ll pretend that’s true. What is it that you really want?”

“To check in on you after what happened up there, silly!” He grinned, tilting his head as he spoke. “You put on quite a show… what a shame Thomas didn’t get to see the fireworks.”

Logan narrows his gaze. He’s doing his best to pick apart his words and dissect his mannerisms, but this bastard is too hard for him to read. If only he knew more about how or why he worked.. “It is not a shame. If Thomas had seen, that would create an even bigger rift between the two of us. I cannot create anymore metaphorical distance between us as he’s already having a hard time listening to me as it is. Furthermore, Thomas is already reeling from the revealing of Remus and Janus, you do not need to be added to the l—”

He burst out laughing, arms crossed over his chest as he did so. “Oh, Logan.” He murmured, shaking his head. “You’re positively adorable. You know that? You try so, so hard.” He rises from his spot on the other side’s bed, and Logan notes that the planner from earlier is still in ruin behind them, and crosses the room to stand directly in front of him. “And yet, you still fail time and time again?”

Logan hates how it gets to him. He knows that’s what he wants: to upset and get another rise out of him so he can take influence over him once more. Logan can’t let that happen. “I did not fail. Thomas redirected his attention to a task he deemed more important, and the other sides agreed. Our viewpoints did not align, but we still got some work accomplished today.”

“Oh, is that how you’d describe it?” He laughs, shaking his head. “Because personally, to me it looked more like Thomas tossing you to the side yet again, and you letting him.” He grinned, but there was no joy behind it. Amusement, more like. “Doesn’t that hurt, Logan? Make you angry?”

“You are trying to get a rise out of me; I am going to continue to ignore you.” Logan removed himself from between the orange clad side and the door, instead walking towards his dresser. “Sure, I wish the others would appreciate my work more, but that does not mean I get to stop working completely and take it out on them. Outbursts get me nowhere.”

“I disagree. But, to each their own,” The other hummed, leaning against the very door he’d just had Logan trapped by. “But… you wouldn’t have to keep having outbursts like this if you quit dealing with their bullshit.”

Logan sighs. This is typical. “Your crude words mean nothing.”

“Words, crude or not, mean everything, Logan. You of all sides should know that.” He smiled again, baring his teeth in a way that Logan just despises in the deepest pits of his stomach. “Unless they’re yours.”

Logan turns from his place at the dresser, cut off once more, “Don’t you get tired, Logan? They’ve stopped caring about you,” He begins to walk over, slowly. “When you started out in these silly little videos, you were so… expressive. You were much less of a prude, you actually had fun! You and padre played dress up together, you wore your onesie and didn’t have a care about it— you expressed yourself.” He approaches Logan in full, pushing his back against the dresser. “And then, a switch flipped at one point. Suddenly, you were all business! No feelings allowed! You stopped smiling, you stopped letting yourself feel joy or anything you considered to be a waste of time, but worst of all, Logan?” He leans down, directly in his face, “You became what they all wanted you to be: An empty, emotionless robot with no feelings, and no other purpose than to answer questions and calm fears when the moment arrived, and when your moment had passed, you could be disposed of.”

Hot, angry tears sting Logan‘s eyes, threatening to spill over. He glares at the now blur of orange in front of him, tempted to yell, scream, hit, punch, do whatever it took to get him and his painfully honest words out of his room. He thinks he can waltz in here and just insult him like this, in the one place he’s supposed to have safety, and destroy that for him as well? Logan knew deep down it was all to get him to react, to upset him and make him lash out again, but all that weighed right now on Logan’s mind was the painfully heavy fact that the other hadn’t lied.

“Get. Out.” Logan spits, fighting back the tears as best as he can.

“I don’t think I will.” The orange side grins back at him. “Admit it. You want to get angry. You want to make them all shut up and listen, don’t you? You want the order, the control, don’t you, Logan? You want to be listened to.”

“So what if I do?!” Logan shouts, near startling himself with the sudden outburst. Tears spill over and fall onto his cheeks, burning red from crying and the anger welling in his chest. “You’d feel just as bad as I do if everything you did that they didn’t deem necessary was discarded!”

“See? There it is,” The tone he used is patronizing, speaking to Logan as if he is some sort of little harmless animal. “You just have to say that! Talk all about how angry it makes you feel, or, alternatively, you take control back by force. I could help you with that, you know.”

Logan shoves him, steadying himself on the dresser as he straightens his posture. “No. I will most certainly not be doing that. I do not need you.”

Suddenly there’s a hand on his jaw and an arm around his waist, spinning him around and pulling him flush against the citrus colored side. “Oh, Logic, don’t be silly! Just look at us!” He forces his head in the direction of the mirror in front of the dresser, earning a glare from the other. The dark blue and bright orange go disgustingly well together, but that doesn’t make Logan anymore trusting. “Don’t we look wonderful together? Come on, now… you mustn’t think you can do this by yourself.” He releases his grip on the other’s jaw and spins him around, “Let me assist you. I know we’re foils but—”

“No.” Logan insists, reaching a hand up to wipe his damp cheeks. “I never have, nor will I ever, need your help. The only way you can assist me now is by getting the hell out of my room.”

“Alright. Alright. I see how it is.” He puts his hands up defensively, backing away slowly from the logical side. “But trust me, Logan. You’ll come crawling back, one way or another. That is a promise.”

The other sinks out, and Logan is momentarily ecstatic to be rid of the orange in his room entirely. He can finally breathe again, relax, as he chews over the words that were said and lingered in the forefront of his mind.

He turns to face the mirror, eyes once again gleaming with orange.

Logan hated the idea that maybe he was right.

#logic sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #tss #orange side #ts orange #tss fanfic #fanfiction #thomas sanders

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pepperonibread · 9 months

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Across The Great Divide: Chapter Two - With A Billion Stars All Around

Read on ao3 or below

Chapter One As the campfire cast flickering shadows across the dark desert floor, a slow and rhythmic clapping interrupted the tranquility. Kiran's heart started as she propped herself onto her feet, her guitar now held in a defensive grip against her shoulder. The unknown presence, the witness to her private performance - was now stepping into the warm light of the fire. And as the figure came into focus, her heart threatened to leap out of her throat.

A/N: Time to learn a little bit more about Kiran. I don't know when I'll be posting the next chapter, because I want to try to write more of this before I post anymore so I have somewhat of a steady flow. As of right now, I am not even halfway through it. Regardless, I hope whoever decides to read enjoys it. Chapter title is inspired by this song. Not that it has anything to do with the story itself - anything by the Eagles makes me think of the desert. More song links at the end.

In the following days, Kiran found herself wading through disinclined feelings. She had managed to convince herself that she had made a fool of herself with the impulsive kiss, and as Unsuur's interactions with her continued to be formal and devoid of any suggestive undertones, she felt increasingly certain of her own foolishness. The weight of rejection pressed on her mind, a familiar sensation she had encountered more times than she cared to admit. It was a screw-up she was accustomed to, the sting of disappointment that came with unreciprocated actions.

Yet, amidst her internal disruption, there was something else gnawing at her—a frustration that stemmed from the fact that Unsuur continued to interact with her as if nothing had happened between them. He was back to being the stoic deputy-in-training, his demeanor unreadable and inscrutable. The inconsistency of his behavior, his casualness, made her want to shake him or at least demand clarification.

The Geeglers had also made their appearance in Sandrock, she had already known they were a threat. But the mutant Lizards had their way with the Moisture Farm, and Mi-an and Kiran were tasked to help the farmer Zeke fix his equipment to keep the farm running. The days seemed to blend together as Kiran went to work, trying to push her obtrusive thoughts out of her head.

Kiran also experienced her first desert sandstorm, a fierce and chaotic event that swept through with such intensity that she barely had time to comprehend what was happening before it was over. It was a reminder of the unpredictable nature of the desert environment she now called home.

Her days weren't solely spent just navigating emotional disorder; she found herself tasked by Yan to work with Mi-an in rebuilding the outdoor stage of the Blue Moon, which had suffered from the sandstorm's wrath. The task was straightforward enough, and in the process, she learned that Mi-an hailed from Tallsky, a tidbit of information that provided a small connection between them. Even Yan's subtle display of appreciation for their hard work was unexpected but welcomed, leaving Kiran with a glimmer of surprise at the warmth she found among these people.

With the stage rebuilt and weight still hanging over her, she finally set out to construct her tent. It was a personal project, a temporary sanctuary of her own making, and she found a sense of peace in the simple act of creating it. Convincing Justice to lend her his horse for a camping trip was no small feat, but she managed to secure his agreement with a promise not to find trouble.

Before venturing out into the desert for her camping venture, she paused to check her mailbox. Amidst the mundane, she noticed an unmarked envelope. Curiosity kindled, she tore it open and unfolded the contents within. The words were unexpected, a mixture of praise and intrigue that left her baffled.

"Dear Kiran," the letter began, and as she read on, she couldn't help but raise her eyebrows in disbelief. The sender admired her efforts in rebuilding the stage, even comparing her favorably to the previous occupant of her home, Mason. The mention of his quirky yard decorations brought a faint smile to her lips. Whoever had sent the letter found her niceness and hardworking nature refreshing, and while the sentiment was appreciated, the anonymity behind the words left her perplexed.

The letter concluded with a puzzling gift—a single opal attached to a cord—accompanied by the assertion that she didn't need to express gratitude. The sender seemed to hope that the opal would serve as the kind of pal that would make her say, "Oh," just as its name implied.

"What the hell is this?" she muttered to herself as she re-read the letter, her confusion growing. Who had sent it? The admiration and cryptic message left her feeling intrigued, but also a bit wary. Kiran stuffed the letter back into the envelope and placed it into the mailbox with bewilderment; looping the opal around her neck in a practiced fashion. Turning her attention to the white stallion, she couldn't help but share her indigestion of the letter. "Who sends shit like this?" she rhetorically questioned the unresponsive horse, before eventually setting off on her camping adventure, her mind billowing with thoughts of admirers, anonymous letters, and the ambiguous deputy-in-training.

As Kiran rode along the train tracks, the rhythmic clatter of the horse's hooves against the metal rails provided a comforting backdrop to her thoughts. The desert stretched out around her, an endless expanse of golden sand and rugged terrain. The sun hung in the sky, its intensity gradually diminishing as it began its descent toward the horizon. The air was warm, carrying with it the scent of dust and dry earth.

As the sun dipped lower, it painted the sky with a palette of warm hues. Shades of orange and pink bled into the deepening blue, casting long shadows across the landscape. The clouds caught the light, their edges tinged with a soft, rosy glow. The whole desert seemed to come alive in the shifting colors of the sunset, a breathtaking display that filled Kiran with a sense of awe and wonder. Guiding the horse off the train tracks, Kiran urged it to follow a more rugged path that led further into the Eufaula desert. The terrain was uneven and rocky, requiring her to maintain a firm grip on the reins as they navigated the winding trail. The horse's hooves kicked up small puffs of sand, leaving behind fleeting traces in their wake.

As the sun continued its descent, the sky transitioned from vibrant oranges and pinks to deeper shades of purples and blues. The first stars began to twinkle overhead, their light piercing through the darkening sky. Kiran knew she needed to find a suitable spot to set up camp before darkness fully enveloped the landscape.

After some time of riding, she spotted a promising location—a jagged cliff that jutted out from the desert floor. Its craggy edges cast elongated shadows in the fading light, creating a cool oasis of shade beneath it. Kiran guided the horse toward the base of the cliff and dismounted, the soft crunch of sand under her boots filling the air.

She tethered the horse to a nearby rock and then began to unpack her gear. The first order of business was setting up her tent. With practiced efficiency, she assembled the poles and secured the canvas, creating a small and cozy shelter against the desert night. She surveyed her surroundings, satisfied with the chosen spot. The cliff's overhang would provide protection from any potential winds that might pick up during the night.

Next, Kiran gathered some firewood from the nearby scrubby vegetation. As twilight deepened into night, she managed to build a modest campfire, its warm glow casting flickering shadows on the sand and stone. The crackling of the flames provided a comforting soundtrack as she settled down, her back against a smooth rock.

The stars were now in full view, a multitude of pinpricks in the inky black sky. The desert seemed to come alive with nocturnal sounds—the chirping of insects, the distant calls of desert creatures. The silence and vastness of the desert were a stark contrast to the noise of town life, and Kiran found herself reveling in the isolation.

Under the blanket of darkness, with only the soft glow of the campfire illuminating her surroundings, Kiran's thoughts continued to drift. The vastness of the desert and the quiet solitude seemed to invite introspection, encouraging her to explore the tangle of emotions that had taken root within her.

Her fingers absentmindedly strummed the strings of her guitar, the familiar sensation grounding her in the present moment. The notes resonated through the still night air, a gentle lullaby for the desert and its secrets. With each chord, she found a connection between her emotions and the music, a way to express the swirling thoughts that refused to be ignored.

As the melody took shape, Kiran's voice joined the harmony of the night. The darkness wrapped around her like a comforting shroud, offering a sense of privacy where she felt comfortably unguarded. Her words were carried on the gentle breeze, a whispered conversation with the vast expanse of the desert. The flickering flames of the campfire danced in response to her song, casting fleeting shadows on the sand and stone. "Take the ribbon from my hair, shake it loose, and let it fall -" This performance didn’t require her to close her eyes.

Her voice held a tint of melancholy; a reflection of her own inner quarrels. In the solitude of the desert, she felt a sense of freedom—an opportunity to embrace her own vulnerabilities without the judgment of others. The guitar strings resonated with the emotions she couldn't quite put into words, creating a connection between her heart and the universe around her. "Come and lay down by my side, till the early mornin' light -"

As she sang, the stars above seemed to shimmer with approval, and the wind carried her voice into the open desert, a gift to the creatures that ventured in the night. The fire crackled and popped, punctuating her song with its own rhythm. The lyrics were a secret shared with the night; "And it's sad to be alone, help me make it through the night…"

Her song eventually trailed off, the final chords fading into the darkness. The desert responded with a profound stillness. Kiran lowered her guitar, feeling a sense of catharsis wash over her. As the campfire cast flickering shadows across the dark desert floor, a slow and rhythmic clapping interrupted the tranquility. Kiran's heart started as she propped herself onto her feet, her guitar now held in a defensive grip against her shoulder. The unknown presence, the witness to her private performance - was now stepping into the warm light of the fire.

And as the figure came into focus, her heart threatened to leap out of her throat. The face before her was the same one that had been plastered on wanted posters since she had first arrived in Sandrock. The infamous Logan, a name synonymous with trouble and danger. She didn't need anyone to tell her who he was.

"I know who you are," she managed to state firmly, her voice carrying a mixture of caution and determination. She met his piercing icy blue stare, her fingers instinctively tightening around the neck of her guitar.

Logan laughed, a deep and almost mocking sound that reverberated through the stillness of the night. His eyes locked onto hers, his expression hidden by the lower half of his face that was concealed by a mask. Even without a full view of his features, Kiran could sense his confidence, his disregard for the danger he posed or the threat he was. Then his eyes rested on the guitar on her shoulder. While she really didn’t want to break it by whacking him with it, she knew she probably could if she was forced.

"There's no need for that, ma'am," Logan drawled, his voice carrying a certain charm that sent shivers down her spine. The drawl gave his words an almost hypnotic quality, and she realized even his voice was attractive. It was a trait she had never associated with outlaws before, or anyone she had known to be remotely evil - and it unsettled her even further.

"Just got thrown off Rambo at the wrong time, is all," he continued, his tone now sounding oddly casual. She furrowed her brows, piecing together that "Rambo" must have been the name of a horse or steed. His voice carried a dryness that betrayed the danger he was in now, a stark reminder that even outlaws faced hardships.

For a fleeting moment, the situation felt strangely human, as if Logan were just another person who had found themselves in a tough spot. The criminal façade was momentarily stripped away, leaving behind a hint of vulnerability. Kiran found herself hesitating, caught between the instinct to be cautious and a moment of proneness.

But she couldn't let her guard down completely. Carefully, she reached for her canteen, her movements slow and deliberate to avoid startling him. "No weapons," she declared firmly, her gaze unwavering from his face. "Let's trade."

Logan's eyes flickered as he assessed her, and after a moment of contemplation, he reluctantly complied with a nod. The gun belt that had once hung at his side now rested in her hands, and she handed over her canteen in return. The exchange was an odd combination of trust and tension, the desert night bearing witness to their silent negotiation.

To Kiran's surprise, Logan didn't just linger in the shadows. He settled down on a nearby rock by the campfire, his posture mirroring that of someone who had just returned home after a long, exhausting day. His movements held a touch of weariness, as if he had been through the wringer and now sought a moment of respite. With a huff that carried a mix of frustration and relief, he removed his hat and placed it beside him. She blinked and wondered what the actually fuck she was witnessing.

In an almost casual manner, he reached up and tugged his mask down, exposing the rest of his face to the dancing flames. The initial jolt of seeing the man behind the infamous mask was undeniable. A stubbled face, rugged and yet strangely attractive, was now visible to her. For a brief moment, she wondered if he was aware of the significance of that action. His hands brought a canteen to his lips, the gesture almost too laid-back for the situation.

Kiran found herself leaning back against the rocky surface behind her, her fingers tracing absent patterns along the edge of her guitar; which she held upright on the ground in front of her. She watched him with wariness, her mind warring between remembering the wanted posters and the unexpected glimpses of humanity she had just witnessed.

As he shifted on the rock, a subtle flinch caught her attention. It was a brief, almost involuntary movement, but it didn't escape her observant gaze. She couldn't help but ask, "Did you get hurt?" Her voice was both cautious and genuinely concerned, the question hanging between them like the firelight.

Logan's gaze met hers, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. It was as if her inquiry had momentarily caught him off guard, reminding him that he was no longer a paradox, but a man with vulnerabilities of his own. She could see the wheels turning in his mind, evaluating how much he should reveal.

"After a fashion," he finally answered his tone carefully measured. He leaned back, his backrest seemingly the jagged cliff that loomed above them. The campfire cast intricate shadows on his face, emphasizing the depths of his expressions. "Guess I underestimated Rambo's mood today."

The corners of Kiran's lips twitched slightly, a subtle hint of amusement at his nonchalant response. The situation was surreal—a wanted outlaw sitting by her campfire, discussing the quirks of a steed named Rambo as if they were old friends. Yet, despite the oddity of the moment, she couldn't help but find herself drawn into the conversation, intrigued by the contradictions he presented.

Logan's gaze remained locked with hers, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to shift. She saw a spark of curiosity mingled with something deeper in his eyes—a glimpse of a man who had ventured far beyond the lines of the law, but who was still, undeniably, a human being.

As the flames danced and the night seemed to wrap around them, Kiran's mind churned. How did one even approach having a conversation with someone who was, by all accounts, a criminal? The rational part of her urged caution, reminding her of the wanted posters and the tales that had circulated about him. But then there was that other part—the part that saw a flicker of something different in his eyes, something that defied the conventional narratives.

A silence stretched between them, charged with a strange energy, as they continued to lock eyes. She felt as if they were both navigating uncharted territory, where the rules were murky at best. And then, almost impulsively, she took a step further into that unknown. She introduced herself, her voice steady but tinged with a mix of curiosity.

"I'm Kiran."

It was a simple sentence, a mere offering of her name. Yet, at that moment, it felt like more—an olive branch extended across the divide that separated them. She watched his reaction, trying to glean something from the way his expression might shift, the way his gaze might waver.

But all he did was smile at her, a warm and disarming curve of his lips that might as well have been a gunshot to her senses—because the effect was just as jarring. It was as though his smile had the power to disarm her rational thoughts, leaving her momentarily defenseless in his presence.

"Pleasure to meet you, Kiran." His voice held a note of sincerity, and she could feel her heartbeat quicken in response. Hearing him say her name felt like standing face-to-face with a celebrity as if her world had momentarily shifted on its axis. His acknowledgment was unexpected and electrifying.

"You're the new builder in Sandrock, aren't you?" he continued, his tone still holding that same genuine interest. How did he know that? Her nod was almost automatic, and she felt a light blush creep into her cheeks, contrasting with the cool breeze that had picked up around them.

"Where are you from?" he asked, his question carrying a sense of curiosity that seemed strangely authentic. She caught herself momentarily lost in his gaze, those piercing blue eyes holding her attention.

"Highwind," she replied, her voice almost a whisper. She marveled at how this encounter felt like something out of a daydream—a scenario she might have found herself reading in the romance novels she sometimes hid beneath her pillows. A sudden internal groan brought her back to reality. She was actually living out one of those clichéd scenarios, and it was almost too surreal to believe.

"Highwind, huh?" His smile remained, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he was enjoying her bewildered state. "That's quite a journey to end up in Sandrock."

Kiran nodded, her thoughts spinning. Here she was, having a conversation with a man who, by all accounts, should be nothing more than a stranger—yet the way they were talking felt strangely natural. It was as if they had known each other for far longer than the span of a few exchanged words.

"Yeah," she managed to reply, struggling to maintain some semblance of composure. "I wanted a fresh start, I guess."

Logan leaned back against the rock he had settled on, his expression thoughtful. "Fresh starts can be good," he mused. "Leave behind old troubles and all that."

She studied him for a moment, finding herself caught in the earnestness of his gaze. He was a criminal, she had to remind herself. The fact that he was talking to her, showing a side of himself that didn't quite fit the outlaw image, confused her to no end.

"I've heard stories about you," she admitted, her curiosity getting the best of her. "You're quite infamous around here."

Logan chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something she couldn't quite decipher. "Infamous, huh? Well, stories have a way of twisting things. But I won't deny that I've been on the wrong side of the law a time or two."

Despite herself, Kiran found herself relaxing in the conversation. It was bizarre, really—sitting by a campfire in the middle of the desert, sharing stories with a man who, on any other day, she might have actively avoided. Yet there was an undeniable ease in their interaction, a strange camaraderie that defied all logic. She momentarily blamed it on the humidity.

She observed him take another measured gulp from her canteen, the soft flickering of the campfire casting fleeting shadows across his face. A gesture as mundane as drinking water suddenly seemed intimate, given the odd circumstances they found themselves in. He gestured toward her guitar, breaking the silence with an unexpected comment.

"You're pretty good with that thing."

Her eyebrows nearly shot up in disbelief. An outlaw complimenting her musical prowess was definitely not something she had seen coming. Bewilderment swirled within her, but she held her tongue, her heart racing. She realized that in the midst of all this surreal dialogue, her emotions were becoming more tangled by the second.

"Thanks," she managed to reply, her voice carefully neutral. Her mind raced, juggling his unexpected compliment with the stories she had heard about him—the infamous tales of his sudden descent into madness, the destructive fire he was said to have started. But the man before her didn't seem crazy; instead, he appeared remarkably composed as they exchanged awkward words.

Amidst her internal struggle, a spark of humor flickered within her, and she decided to venture into a realm of jesting, despite her better judgment. "I'll be here all week."

The sound that escaped his lips this time was more subdued, a quiet chuckle that seemed to resonate through the night air. The echoes of his laughter mingled with the desert breeze, and for a brief moment, the tension seemed to ease between them.

The unexpected occurrence of rain in the desert caught Kiran off guard. While she knew it wasn't entirely impossible, it was certainly a rare event. As the heavy clouds gathered above, a low rumble of thunder resonated through the air, followed by the soft, rhythmic pattering of raindrops against the ground and cliff above.

Well, this certainly added a new twist to the situation. The rain meant that their impromptu encounter would be extended, and she'd be stuck here with the outlaw for a little while longer. A mix of uncertainty and mild amusement danced within her thoughts as she glanced up at the sky, the raindrops glistening like silver threads against the glow of the campfire.

"Didn't think to check the weather forecast?" he asked, his voice carrying a playful tone.

"Apparently you didn't either," she shot back, her words laced with sarcasm. His chuckle in response only added to the strange sense of comfort that was developing.

"Let me see that thing," he motioned for her guitar. Her heart raced slightly as she handed it over, their fingers brushing in the transfer. It was a simple touch, but the tension between them was notable. She settled herself on a rock nearby, making sure their shoulders were just close enough to almost touch, yet far enough to maintain a distance that felt necessary. Why she had bothered to sit that close to him - it was lost on her.

As he began to play, her assumptions proved correct – he struggled. Despite the effort he put in, it was clear that his skills had rusted over time. She recognized the song he attempted, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You suck," she stated matter-of-factly, unable to hold back her honest assessment. The rain seemed to soften the blow of her words.

"Was that supposed to impress me?" she added, almost teasingly. The question slipped from her lips before she could stop it.

In response, he huffed, his expression unreadable in the firelight. Kiran swore she saw a hint of a blush on his cheeks, a sight that both surprised and intrigued her. But again, she blamed it on the humidity.

"You play then," he challenged, a challenge she couldn't resist accepting. "You're the expert."

"Fine," she retorted, her fingers confidently positioning themselves on the frets. "But you're supposed to hold the fret like this, you know." With practiced ease, she played the piece he had attempted, the melody filling the air with a sense of familiarity.

And then, her voice joined in, the lyrics flowing from her lips as if they had always belonged to her. "I was standing by the window, on one cold and cloudy day, when I saw the hearse come rolling, to carry my mother away…"

Her voice trailed off into the rain, the echoes of the song mingling with the soft pattern of drops around them. As the music faded, she shifted her gaze to Logan, her eyes locking onto his. What she saw there surprised her – a fleeting glimpse of something deeper, something hidden beneath the surface. It was as if a veil had been momentarily lifted, revealing a layer of something that he had been guarding.

Pain. That was the emotion that resonated behind his eyes. Kiran felt a strange mixture of empathy and curiosity stirring within her. She wanted to know more, to understand what had shaped him into the outlaw he was now. But she also knew that some wounds were best left untouched, unprodded.

Before she could dwell on this further, Logan's voice broke the silence. "What do you think of Sandrock?" His question hung in the air, and she felt a momentary pause in her thoughts. What did she truly think of Sandrock? It was a town that had welcomed her, yet also felt strangely isolating at times. The rain seemed to echo the uncertainty of her emotions.

She exhaled softly, setting her guitar down on the ground and leaning it against the rock she had been perched on. The flames of the campfire flickered, casting a warm glow that contrasted with the cool raindrops puttered on the rock around them. Logan's gaze remained fixed on her, awaiting her response. It felt like a pivotal moment, a chance to be candid in a way she hadn't been before. "Honestly, it's kind of lonely," she admitted, her voice carrying a touch of vulnerability. The admission surprised even her – it wasn't the most polished or guarded response. But there was something about this rainy night, this unexpected encounter, that made her want to peel away the layers she usually hid behind.

And then, surprisingly, she felt herself letting down her guard, as absurd as it sounded even to her. Opening up to an outlaw, whose face had been plastered all over town, a large sum on his head - was a notion that would have been unthinkable just hours earlier. Yet, here she was, sharing a piece of herself with him amidst the rain and the glow of the campfire.

"I guess what I mean is," she began, her eyes meeting his in the flickering light. She struggled to find the right words, her thoughts weaving in and out like the raindrops around them. "When I first arrived here, I had this mindset to keep to myself, focus on my work. My father's voice echoed in my head, telling me to mind my own damn business and stay out of trouble."

He cut her off with a hint of amusement. "You're a troublemaker?"

She chuckled, her lips forming a rueful smile. "A different kind of trouble, a few years back. I've always had this eccentric streak, though." It wasn't a lie. She was referring to the tumultuous love affair she had experienced, the one she wasn't eager to bring up. The one involving a young Civil Corps officer named Lewis, who had left a mark on her heart when she was just eighteen. Her father's voice of reproach, the repeated "That's what you get" when she discovered he was married, had been her constant companion for the subsequent months. The mistakes we make, she thought, carried on the winds of memory.

"What did you do?" he asked, his tone surprisingly light. "Rob a bank?"

She laughed, the emotions twirled and reemerged. The memories resurfaced, a bittersweet blend of naivety, pain, and growth. Her father's assurances that someone better suited would come along to care for her child rang in her ears. It was funny how life played out, how the unexpected twists made their mark.

Lost in her thoughts, she stared into the dancing flames, her thoughts tracing intricate patterns amidst the embers. And then, a gentle touch on her shoulder shifted her attention. Logan's presence was a reminder that she wasn't alone in her contemplations.

"Yes," she finally said, her voice carrying the weight of history and her own personal sarcasm. "I robbed a bank."

She managed to force a chuckle at her own jest, well aware that he saw right through her ruse. There was a knowing glint in his eyes as if he could read her like an open book. But he chose not to address her fib directly, his words simple yet unexpectedly empathetic, "We all make mistakes."

She nodded in agreement, her gaze dropping to the flickering flames as if they held some profound answer. There was a palpable weight in the air, a shared understanding of the complexities of human flaws and missteps. The unspoken exchange felt strangely intimate, connecting them in a way she couldn't quite fathom.

As the rain continued to drizzle around them, she suddenly became acutely aware of the proximity between them, the damp air not quite managing to quell the warmth that spread across her cheeks. That persistent little voice in her head, the one that had been guiding her through this inexplicable encounter, warned against impulsive decisions. It urged, 'Don't do it, Kiran.' Yet, her heart seemed to have other plans, craving the exhilaration of danger once more.

"You're probably lonely out here too, aren't you?" she blurted, her question coming across as clumsier than she intended. She inwardly cursed herself for the words, feeling a blush crawl further up her neck.

"Darlin', I'm just about the loneliest man this side of the Eufaula," Logan drawled, his response teetering on the edge of cliché. Kiran couldn't help but entertain the thought that perhaps he was playing along with her game, picking up on the playful back-and-forth that had been woven into their evening. The question she tossed into the rain somehow managed to latch onto the current of tension between them, making her wonder how it had even emerged in the first place. Fate, perhaps, or just the right words at the right time.

She didn't have to mull over her musings for long, as he suddenly cupped her face in his hands, their eyes locking in a magnetic gaze. A surge of anticipation pulsed through her, mingling with the steady rhythm of the rain around them. This was the moment her heart had been racing toward, the moment she had seemed to both feared and yearned for.

But there was a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, a fraction of a second where uncertainty danced in the depths of his eyes. At that moment, she found herself irrationally bothered by the pause, several thoughts spinning in her mind. Why did it matter if he hesitated? What did it mean? And why was she even allowing herself to think about an outlaw, a wanted man, in such a way? Why did she want him so bad?

"Just do it," the words escaped her lips, demanding as much for herself as for him. Her voice was resolute, her eyes locked onto his with a mixture of longing and daring. It was as if a challenge had been issued, a silent invitation to bridge the gap that separated them.

And with that, a smirk curled upon his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection that had been steadily growing between them all evening. He leaned in, closing the space between them, and their lips met in a collision of desire and recklessness. It was a moment she had both anticipated and feared, a culmination of their shared energy and the undeniable pull that had drawn them together.

As the kiss deepened, she felt herself inching closer to him, the world around melting into the background as her senses became consumed by the taste of sweat on his lips, the scent of the damp earth, and the warmth of his touch. The voice in her head seemed to quiet, replaced by the electric thrum of her heartbeat. At least this time, as their embrace intensified to eventually lead to something else; she didn't have to contend with the sting of rejection.

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the desert as Kiran gradually stirred awake, her eyes fluttering open to a new day. She stretched, feeling the softness of the sleeping bag beneath her, and for a moment, her mind was blank, the haze of sleep shrouding the events of the night before. But as the memories began to trickle back, a flush crept up her cheeks, mingling with the faint sunlight that streamed into the makeshift camp.

She lay there, contemplating the surreal turn of events that had unfolded with Logan under the dark canvas of the desert sky. The way his lips had felt against hers, the mingling of laughter and tension, his hands eager on the buttons of her jeans - it all seemed too vivid to be dismissed as a mere dream. Yet, as the rays of dawn bathed her in their gentle light, she found herself grappling with doubts, questioning the authenticity of what had transpired.

With a sigh, Kiran sat up, her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she gazed out at the expanse of the desert. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had lost something, that a connection had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand carried by the wind. Her fingers instinctively sought the spot on her face where he had touched her - one of many; the memory of his hands on her face lingering like a phantom sensation.

As she began to gather her belongings, she scoured the area, as if hoping to find some token, some proof that Logan had been there with her. But the desert sands held no trace of him, leaving her feeling both relieved and oddly disappointed. Maybe it truly had been a fever dream, a trick of her imagination heightened by the enigmatic allure of the outlaw. Turning her attention to Justice's horse, she approached him, her movements gentle as she addressed the equine companion. "Don't get any ideas," she muttered playfully, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "If a cat's the captain, you're probably the detective."

The absurdity of her own statement elicited a small chuckle from her, a brief respite from the flood of emotions swirling within her. She knew she couldn't confide in the horse, couldn't seek answers or advice from an animal. The decision lay solely with her, and it was a weighty one. Should she reveal what had transpired to the Civil Corps? How would they react? And what about Justice, the one of many who had warned her about Logan in the first place? How would she even tell him? "you know that guy you really wanna catch? I fucked him." She could only imagine the look on the Sheriff's face. "It was just a dream," she told herself, the words carrying a hint of uncertainty. Yet, the more she repeated the mantra, the more she realized that her heart refused to accept it as truth. The vividness of their interaction, the tangible connection they had shared, spoke to something deeper than a mere figment of imagination.

With a resigned sigh, Kiran began to pack up her campsite, preparing to return to town. The desert sands would keep her secret, and she couldn't shake the feeling that the memory of that night, whether dream or reality, would stay with her for a long time. As she rode back toward Sandrock, the weight of the unknown pressed upon her, a mix of anticipation, regret, and a yearning for something she couldn't quite define.

The desert landscape stretched before her, the expanse mirroring the uncertainty in her mind. The memories of the previous night mingled with her ongoing internal debate – had it all been real? As she entered the town, the familiar buildings and bustling streets greeted her. The townspeople went about their daily routines, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil churning within her. Kiran dismounted her horse with a sigh, patting the animal's flank affectionately before turning her attention to her modest workshop.

Just as she approached her home, a voice called out to her. "Kiran!" It was Mi-an, standing near the entrance with a small piece of paper in her hand. Kiran's heart rate quickened; her mind raced to connect the dots. Telegram. Brother. The realization hit her like a sudden gust of wind.

"You got a telegram this morning from your brother," Mi-an said, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. As Kiran dismounted Mi-an handed her the paper; eyes scanned the message, absorbing its contents. "He wants you to call him."

Kiran nodded, her thoughts temporarily shifting from her encounter with Logan to the words on the telegram. Her brother's message tugged at her heartstrings, a reminder of the life she had left behind in Highwind.

"Thanks, Mi-an," Kiran murmured, offering a small smile to the young woman.

But there was another matter that needed addressing. The horse she had borrowed from Justice. Kiran glanced at the animal, then back at Mi-an. "Hey, would you mind returning this horse to Justice for me?" she asked, her tone earnest. "Tell him I appreciate it."

Mi-an nodded, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Of course. I'll take care of it."

As Kiran watched Mi-an lead the horse away, her mind returned to the events of the night before. The telegram from her brother provided a grounding moment, a reminder of her responsibilities and the life she had built in Sandrock.

After stowing her belongings inside her workshop, Kiran's steps led her to the lone phone booth in town, her thoughts swirling with anticipation about her brother's unexpected communication. The desert sun beat down as she entered the cramped space, the heat, and humidity creating a tangible tension around her. As she reached for the receiver, her fingers brushed against the cord, a sensation both nostalgic and foreign.

Dialing the number for her mother's clinic in Highwind, she listened to the familiar ringtone, each tone resonating through the earpiece like a heartbeat. The connection clicked, and then her brother's voice greeted her in a way only he could manage.

"Janie's Joints, you whack it, we crack it," he chimed, followed by the sound of their mother's chastisement echoing in the background. A soft chuckle escaped Kiran's lips at the chaos she could practically envision.

"Jessie, it's me," she said, her voice carrying a mixture of warmth.

"Oh, shit," he replied in an instant, his tone shifting from playful to attentive. The background noises faded as he clearly moved to a more private spot, giving her his full attention. She thought she heard a door shut somewhere behind him.

Without a preamble, he delved into the purpose of his call. "Lewis is leaving Highwind," he announced, his words carrying a sense of gravity that sent a shiver down Kiran's spine.

"How did you find this out?" Kiran's curiosity was piqued. Jessie's ability to dig up information was uncanny, a trait that had often come in handy in their younger years.

"The three of them are going," Jessie disclosed, his voice a low murmur as if sharing classified information. "Lewis, Esme, and…" He trailed off, leaving the name unspoken between them. "Harper," Kiran whispered, the weight of the name heavy on her tongue. The mere mention of her son's name stirred a mixture of emotions within her, emotions she had tried to bury in the depths of her heart.

"Yeah. Zelda told me last week," Jessie continued, mentioning the name of his friend casually. "Esme still isn't over the whole… you know, sleeping with her husband thing and being stuck with a kid that isn't hers. I'm sure you knew that, though." His words hung in the air, a reminder of the complex dynamics. "I just thought you should know, even if you're not here. Dad didn't want me to tell you…"

Kiran's response was measured, a shield she instinctively raised to protect herself.

"I'm sure he didn't," She replied, her voice tinged with resignation. She swiftly changed the subject, her heart aching from the weight of the conversation. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know. Same old," Jessie's voice held a casual note, masking the underlying complexity of their lives. The sound of movement in the background hinted at the chaos that often surrounded him. "How about you, Kiran?" Jessie's voice resonated from the phone's receiver, his genuine curiosity a comforting presence despite the miles between them. She half expected the typical inquiry about how Sandrock was treating her, a question that seemed to follow her wherever she went. "What have you been doing?"

Her fingers subconsciously reached for the cord hanging around her neck, the mysterious opal pendant gifted to her just the other day a constant reminder of the unexpected message. The smooth surface of the stone provided a reassuring touch as she grappled for words to answer her brother's question. And then, as if the universe was conspiring against her, she saw him approaching – Unsuur, the deputy who had tangled himself into her thoughts. A mix of surprise and discomfort rippled through her, but she masked it as best she could.

"The deputy," she blurted into the phone, her voice carrying a tinge of surprise and disbelief.

Her brother's reaction on the other end was immediate, an incredulous gasp echoing through the line. "What?!"

"Nevermind," Kiran hurriedly cut off the conversation, back to reality with a shake of her head, a sense of urgency propelling her to end the call abruptly, slamming the phone into the cradle. ___

Song Kiran sings in the desert Song Logan butchers on guitar Hope I did the yehaw boy proud. See ya next time.

#my time at sandrock #mtas #mtas fanfic #mtas logan #mtas logan/builder

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echoesanddoodles · 2 years

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nope thoughts

got to see Nope today and it was honestly as good as I was hoping for. so worth the wait!

just like. my mind is still reeling and processing and there’s SO. MUCH. snuck in there i definitely want to go watch it again but just moments like:

- Em messing up how many greats (great, great grandfather) because she had memorized her father’s speech she’s later seen watching :’)

- Ricky/Jupe being like. performatively evasive/dismissive and ever the showman in talking about the Gordy’s Home incident: giving a few details then moving to describing the SNL skit and the actors being sharply cut with his face as a child during the actual tramautic event. it was so evocative and showed so much about his character in an instant.

-while on the subject, the sound editing and choices of music/moments of stillness like in the long scene of the gordy’s home incident. i found myself holding my breath trying to also stay silent.

-also during that, the emphasis on “bad miracles” and focusing on anomalies/odd moments during a traumatic experience with the peculiarity of the shoe standard perfectly upright. Something about focusing on the strangeness of that over the horror surrounding it really hit. I know personally from some traumatic events there were weird things adjacent-but-separate to the experience that I have really strong memories of, glomming onto that instead of the bad thing itself.

- when the crowd was grabbed during the show? them being dragged inside of JJ actually made me viscerally uncomfortable.

-Peele’s continued skill with developing tension too. the aliens in the stable scene? the long pause waiting for the head to peak around the corner? immaculate.

-i also hollered at the solemn recitation of the Purple People Eater song. I had a halloween plushy growing up that would sing it and I cannot begin to describe how insane it made me hearing it referenced in this movie oh my god

-AKIRA SLIDE

- Jean Jacket doing the ultimate defensive predator move, OJ standing his ground in that final showdown.

-the auteur camera guy and the idea of the “impossible shot”. There was this emphasis on spectacle and personally, a feeling that really hit home about an impulse in some creatives for the obsession with perfection in their craft: chasing that impossible shot. Yes he mentioned others not deserving to see a miracle, but he also went to record his own impossible shot, no matter the harm to himself. Destroying your self to achieve your own creative pinnacle, no matter the fact that others will not get to witness it.

ok also I know a few folks have said it’s kind of slow but I really didn’t feel that way at all. I think the pacing was really solid and built up well. there were no moments I was bored or like “ok we GET IT” and i think the way the main story was intercut with the Gordy’s incident was really well balanced and showcased the theme and story really well. Idk. I thought it was really smooth, but it could also be bc i’ve watched too many cheap shitty or really old horror flicks, so I have built up a tolerance for slow builds. even if it does take a bit of time, it pays off really well.

Also, the actors were all incredible and I’m in love with daniel kaluuya and keke palmer

#nope #nope spoilers #my thoughts #i'm mostly incoherent here probably #look i know some were mixed on US but it is absolutely one of my favorite horror movies now and so I have been WAITING and HOPING for this #and it did not disappoint

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obsidiansong · 2 years

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While I’ll admit that Byleth lacking Azure Moon, Verdant Wind, or Silver Snow verses is partially based on my own biases, it also just wouldn’t make sense to me with the way I characterize Byleth for her to choose any other paths besides Obsidian Song or Crimson Flower. This lies almost exclusively in her first impressions of the three Lords, as well as Jeralt’s words.

With Dimitri, she figured out pretty quickly that he didn’t quite trust her completely, due to her perceived lack of guilt on the battlefield (which, unlike canon, is completely true to my Byleth, even if she hates the fact), and she immediately puts some distance between her and anyone she thinks sees her as inhuman due to past events. This probably caused her to take the longest to connect with Dimitri, but once she did, she found it remarkably easy to get along with him due to his earnest and forthright nature. However, her initial reluctance to head the Blue Lions also lies in the darkness she felt under Dimitri’s exterior, as indicated by the prologue - and frankly, at the time, as someone who had zero attachment to any of these young men and women, she didn’t feel equipped to deal with that nor did she particularly want to. Thus, she would never head Blue Lions, and thus, never head down the Azure Moon route.

With Claude, the ease with which he could fake smiles and how readily he admitted to being a scoundrel put her on guard. She could immediately tell that he was the type to use people for his own ends if need be underneath that happy-go-lucky exterior, and had a feeling that this could easily extend to those who technically held authority over him if he felt he could get away with it. And Byleth, while prodigious in a battle of strength and skill, couldn’t quite claim to excel as much when it came to wits and manipulation, so she was a bit wary when dealing with Claude, at first. Consistently scanning his words, his actions, even his body language, for any sort of hint of duplicity. It was obviously a mentality that wouldn’t lend itself well to the teacher of his house, and in doing so, never proceed down Verdant Wind.

However, Edelgard’s consistent analyses of Byleth during their early interactions actually helped endear Byleth to her more than it might others. Byleth has always been someone who hates what she is due to how difficult it made it for her to form genuine connections with others, and this gave her some hope that Edelgard might be able to more easily see her true self underneath the lack of expression and Ashen Demon reputation. It was hope that seemed to have borne some small fruit when the princess expressed that she thought Byleth and her might have similar personalities, when the soon-to-be professor was going around and talking to the students before she officially chose which house to teach. As such, when said choice came around, Byleth immediately felt the most comfortable heading up the Black Eagles, feeling like maybe, just maybe, she could build some true understanding with Edelgard - and by extension, the rest of the Black Eagles, an understanding that, at least in her mind, seems to develop over the course of the year.

And, of course, Silver Snow was axed from the get-go thanks to none other than Jeralt. Byleth’s father is the person that she trusts the most explicitly; when he warned her not to completely trust Rhea when they first arrived at Garreg Mach, Byleth took those words to heart and never fully learned to place her faith in the archbishop. As such, the confrontation in the Holy Tomb depends entirely on how much Byleth’s faith in Edelgard is shaken - if she feels too betrayed (by the means of her emotional and mental distress amplified by the problems inflicted upon her by her merge with Sothis), she flees and begins Obsidian Song. However, if her faith in Edelgard holds, usually because events proceeded as per canon, she instead continues down Crimson Flower. She never trusts Rhea more than she does Edelgard, and the events that shake her trust in Edelgard come with the caveat that she’s also been losing just as much, if not more, trust in Rhea over the past month or so.

In short, there’s actually more here to what goes behind Byleth’s lack of non-Obsidian Song/Crimson Flower verses beyond just “Awoo really loves Edelgard and doesn’t want Byleth to be forced to kill her” (although that’s at least a part of it, I won’t deny that), involving a lot of in-character reasons for why she’d only ever be the teacher of the Black Eagles.

#checking the unit info || headcanons #this was a big chonky headcanon that took me half an hour to word properly man #I wanted to make sure I was getting this across properly u_u

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taylortruther · 2 years

Note

I completely agree that you need to be media literate or read or not accept someone's version of events. IPV cases are very difficult to try out, so I'm neutral on this case because I wasn't involved, but I really respect your opinion Ray (if this question bothers you, I understand I promise you don't need to answer!) How do you feel confident that you know more than the jury?

(Again all due respect xx)

---

well the whole trial was televised, so we do have most of the information the jury does. that said, i didn't watch it, i read summaries as well as breakdowns of evidence in a few different places. and what i learned is that a lot of evidence that depp's team blocked is imo totally damning: there were texts (blocked as hearsay), medical records, therapy records, etc. where people present in their relationship admitted that johnny hit her on multiple occasions.

this is evidence that is publicly available on the internet (however, it is hard to find unless you choose to wade into the mess) but was not provided to jurors, or televised in any way, and imo it would have changed the outcome. this is the type of evidence i would hope amber could share with a judge if she appealed - but i'm not sure if this would be allowed because you aren't allowed to submit new evidence during appeal; however, i'm not sure if that affects evidence that was brought to trial but not allowed to be shown to jury.

it's also what makes the arguments of "i watched the whole trial, i know what i'm talking about!" fall completely flat to me. the trial didn't include all available evidence. plus, court television is biased - commentators have biases, and networks may rely on viewership to gain money for their parent companies. (court tv itself is owned by timewarner cable.) watching it on youtube or tiktok puts you at the mercy of that youtuber's biases with editing and commentary as well. simply watching the case at home may be unreliable due to that alone.

also, this sounds glib, but i've been part of a jury in a civil case (it wasn't ipv but it was an ambiguous case with lots of gray area) and jurors can be foolish. they can be ignorant, they bring in their biases, and they can have bad judgment, even after being carefully selected by both legal teams.

it's also a well-known understanding that juries are often swayed by the theatrics of court. that's why johnny wanted it televised and also why (i assume) he wanted it in front of a jury in the first place. judges are harder to fool, as lawyers can't do their songs and dances when there's no jury involved.

intimidating witnesses, being nasty/cruel to people on the stand, being dramatic when discussing evidence... this is pretty normal in court cases. and it's far, far worse in ipv cases because lawyers will seek to discredit abuse victims openly in order to sway the jury.

when i was on a jury, the plaintiff won, which i felt was deserved based on the legal facts of the case. but the way they and their legal team conducted themselves in court was really nasty. they exaggerated injuries while in court, had hired scammy doctors to charge insane amounts of money to win in the lawsuit, and their legal team made snide remarks to the defendant, presented evidence in condescending/dramatic ways, etc.

when i brought this up to some jurors (kind of as gossip, like "ugh can you believe how annoying that lawyer is?") they didn't pick up on it. what felt like an obvious, almost scripted theatrical performance, came across as completely genuine to others. it was a total mindfuck.

also, the depp-heard jury wasn't sequestered! that's INSANE to me. it was also not balanced (as it had more men than women)! these things factor in.

#edited 6/8 about appeal info

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moonlit-reveriee · 3 years

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Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

#c!techno #red:moon #mcyt x reader #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt smut #techno smut

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rcksmith · 3 years

Text

Be mine — Roman Godfrey

Requests: “Helloo, I would like to request an imagine of roman Godfrey with smut prompt 28”

“Hii, omg I lover your work!! Can you do fluff prompts 45 and 59 and smut prompts 32 whit Roman Godfrey? Thank you, love💖”

Fluff prompts:

45. “where have you been all my life?”

59. “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Smut prompts:

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

32. “I’m going to show you what a real fucking is.”

A/N: I was excited about these request for Roman, I loved it. I hope you guys like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Roman Godfrey/ Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, explicit smut, NSFW, degradation, dirty talk and also fluff too.

— — — — —

The big white and airy room tried to show a soothing and safe energy, the light tones contrasted with the golden rays of the sun outside and could even try to show a lyrical vibe. Could, if not for everything else.

It was hard to pinpoint the source that messed up that whole idea of peace that the colors on the walls had, but maybe it was because Godfrey Industries was... oblique, mysterious, sinister. There was something in the air, a dark breeze that echoed all the floors of that gigantic building, bringing the feeling that something was out of place. It was, at times, disconcerting. Like looking at a perfect painting but knowing that something is out of place. Or to witness the seconds of frightening calm before a major disaster. But as the months went by, you had to get used to it and adapt to it. Your daydreams wandered far away. You wondered what you were doing there, in that country town that also had that sinister energy.

Why you left Los Angles? Okay, did you know why. After finishing college, you sent out resumes to as many companies as you could. Its from that time when you realize that adult life has knocked on the door and that the cost of living in California was too high. The plan, when you left home to pursue your dream and go to college in another state, was to get a job as soon as possible. But some things got out of your control, and when you realized it, you had graduated and you didn't have enough money to come up with second plans.

So, when the multinational Godfrey Industries called you after an interview and gave you the job, you didn't hesitate. The salary was too good for a international negotiations assistant, and after a while you could breathe easier, and be able to straighten out your financial life and have a better resume to be able to get back to a big city.

It was a good plan, a rational plan. You were proud of that. But it was logical that too much confidence was accompanied by some ruin.

And its ruin came under the name of Roman Godfrey.

Roman was swallowed all the air in any the room when he entered, as if its imposing presence subdued any environment. Everything about him exuded the same objective: to conquer, to possess, to win. He was the Trojan army. But the worst and the most dangerous was not his difficult personality, but how you felt close to him. How his presence caused side effects on you.

He was absolutely gorgeous. It should be considered illegal for someone to have that appearance, that voice, that sinisterly penetrating look. You felt that Roman Godfrey had the aura of intense and exciting music, like the song of danger.

He was the personification of sin, and you were being tested by the universe.

The trinity of what could be a gigantic disaster was completed when, a few months ago, Roman started testing you, joining the universe in what appeared to be a plan to slaughter your sanity.

It was your first meeting with the Company a few weeks after you was hired. Adam, the director of the international negotiations sector, for whom you are an assistant, asked you to bring all the documents of the process and remain in the meeting. It was about an international multi who wanted to buy some equipment from Godfrey Industries, but who were working hard to try to close deals at a lower price.

As you handed a copy of the negotiation to each sector director in that room, you felt a pair of eyes burning the back of your neck the whole time, like your shadow. The caustic sensation ruffled all the hair on the back of your neck, snaking from head to toe and made you search the environment behind the author.

That's when you finding him.

Roman had the green irises stuck to you like a tattoo on your skin. As if unraveling all your secrets, your sins, virtues and all your thoughts. It was intense, magnetic... dangerous.

You felt the white walls of that room were embraced by a black and dark shadow, and the air became thin. Then he smiled. A smug and arrogant little smile. The kind who won a battle.

It had been the beginning of a sequence of events. Roman began to request and make sure that you were present at all meetings, negotiations, cases, even when your presence added much more to your professional knowledge than to contribute to the resolution of company problems. At that time the order was still not directed at you, Adam just told you that Godfrey wanted you at meetings.

It was strange, atypical, almost surreal. You used to go into the conference room and look directly at Roman, frowning in silent questioning at him. But he never gave you an answer. He just gave that smug smile and turned his attention to the big screen in the living room.

This happened five times before Roman sent to tell you that he wanted to see you in his office.

“But why?!" You frowned at Adam.

The man looked at you for a second before shrugging.

“Your work has been impeccable, I think he just wants to give you more things to do.” Adam kept his eyes on the documents themselves.

"But you are my boss.” Sometimes you had a habit of saying what you thought without considering the consequences.

Your mother and your friends said that you had a total inability to hide what you felt, to be someone reserved or shy. You were almost always the person who said everything you felt.

Adam laughed softly, already used to your personality and turned his eyes to you.

“And he is my boss."

You restrained yourself from rolling your eyes. The truth was, you didn't want to find him. Roman puzzled you, messed with your system. And after those 5 meetings without explaining why you were there, you started to want to avoid his presence.

But apparently the universe was not on your side this time.

You got up and excused yourself, listening to your own heels echoing down the hall before entering the elevator and pressing the last button. Going to Godfrey's office.

Anxiety coursed through your veins like overwhelming electricity, making you sway on your heels and stir your fingers.

What did he want with you? Had you done something? Was he crazy?

You sucked in the air hard, shrugging your shoulders to relax when the door opened up. You walked for a while before stopping at Roman's office and knocking on the door with your finger.

“Come in." The voice made your heart skip a few beats.

You walked in, closing the door behind you and laying your eyes on the tall, slender figure who was sitting behind the table, dressed in black pieces and a small smile.

“Did you want to see me, Mr.Godfrey ?"

Maybe it was your imagination or your nervousness that was seeing things in between lines, but you could have sworn that Roman breathed harder after you said his last name.

You stopped in front of his desk, too agitated to sit on the chair.

“Yes, Darling.” He stood up, getting much bigger than you, even though your feet were in a 10 cm heel.

Roman fished a file on the table itself, bypassing the table and coming menacingly close to you. He stood in front of you again, his hip against the table and leaning there, holding out the file for you. You took seconds longer than you would like to pick up the papers, Roman's left leg was dangerously close to yours, the knee almost brushing your thigh covered by the black skirt.

“I need it ready by night."

That's when you came out of the trance, picking up the folder and staring at the amount of stuff there. It was a process about an agreement with a company in Asia, and it was so bureaucratic that it would take up your entire time. And you already had a million things for do.

“But...” You were about to start talking, but Roman moved away from the edge of the table, his chest hovering over yours.

You have never felt so small, so fragile and so vulnerable in your life. You had to lift your chin to face him straight.

“You are going to be a good girl and bring me this tonight.” It was not a request. “You will, right?”

Your common sense or decorum had gone somewhere. Maybe was lost in your own stupidity. The oxygen evaporated from your lungs. And before you could think of something diplomatic and good to say. Because you were not dumb. You heard yourself say:

“Yes, Mr. Godfrey.”

Fucking hell!

“Great.” He gave you a rewarding smile.

From that moment on events like this became routine. In fact, you tried to mask that you liked it, that it wasn't extremely unprofessional, that he was not only your boss, but also the owner of the entire company. Over time you learned to deal with him too, Roman was never brazen or touched you, he would drop some ‘Dear’ or ‘Pretty’ over and over here for you, but, truth be told, you didn’t get uncomfortable.

Perhaps it was your feminine vanity. You didn't want to be selfish, but having a man like Roman Godfrey praise you did wonders for your feminine vanity. You felt absurdly beautiful. He made you feel like the personification of the Female Fatal, and you liked that. So you would roll your eyes at him and give him some jokes smiles in his direction whenever these things happened.

You did not deny it, but you also do not return any praise.

Over the months you had practically become more of an assistant to Roman than to Adam. He kept you getting bogged down with things to do and telling Adam to pass on your old duties to any other goddamn person.

“They accept to close if they have had 30% of the profits.” You put your cell phone down to talk to Roman, who had his hip against the desk work and an open file in his hands.

“They must be stupid” he rolled his eyes “10% and I will still be being generous.”

You went back to your call, your eyes fixed on the top view of the city as you settled the deal.

“I can get them to close by 15% if we send the equipment by tomorrow.” You said to Roman again, plugging the cell phone microphone with your other hand “But it has to be send until the morning. Not next.”

Roman smiled broadly and satisfied, nodding his head in ‘Yes’ as you turned your attention to the city view and finished the negotiation. You were getting the details right when you felt a presence behind you, the heat radiating for your back and making you lose your breath for a second. You swallowed and tried to ignore something vibrating in your core, disconnecting the call as soon as you closed the deal.

“What would I do without you?” Roman's voice blew at the top of your ear, his ghostly touch fanning your skin.

You laughed to try to hide how much your core pulsed, turning around enough to face his completely.

"I don't know, you would have already lost four contracts.” You tried to joke, but he was absurdly close.

The scent of a man and an expensive cologne swallowed you like a wave and dragged you into the sea, drowning you. The emerald green eyes were fixed on you, as if they swallowed you.

“You could work for me.” Godfrey let go, taking another step closer to you.

Instinctively, you took a step back, your back finding the cold glass behind you and trapping you between the cold sensation and the absurd warmth of the man.

"I already work for you.” You said it as if it were obvious, letting out a nervous laugh and trying to clean up how much your uterus vibrated now.

“No, you work more with Adam.” He rolled his eyes, his hand now resting on your hip, rising to your waist like a snake “I speak of you being my assistant, being here when I arrive, spending the all days with me.”

Your heart screamed, your pussy throbbed so hard that if Roman hadn't paid attention to you, you would have bitten your lip.

“Are you flirting with me?”

"You finally noticed?"

There was no way to deny to yourself that you had already reached your share of perverted dreams with Roman Godfrey. He was like an addiction! It was unbearable how present he was always in your head, playing with your sanity, making you think of how those absurdly long fingers would fuck you so well, how those impeccable clothes hid a maddening body.

And that was exactly why you couldn't be him assistant.

If it was already overwhelmingly difficult to occasionally remain in him presence without diverting your thoughts, every day would be impossible. All the time. You would end up having to resign your job after, because any involvement between you would not result in a happy ending. Aside from being extremely unethical, it would end up destroying your heart, and God, you needed the job!

"M-Mr Godfrey." You tried to speak, touching his chest with the palm of your hand with the intention of gently pushing him away.

But the shot backfired. He was cold. Absurdly cold. Cold that makes you want to warm up, an addictive, that intoxicates you. Suddenly, you are already wondering if other parts of it would be cold too.

Would the kiss contain the beauty and temperature of the snow? When Roman entered you, would he be consumed by the heat of your needy walls? He Would it stick to you like a private sun?

“Pretty.” Godfrey sighed against your cheek, dangerously lowering his lips in your direction. “Why not stay with me? Where can I fuck you every day? ”

This time you moaned, a low moan that gave up all of your game. It lit a dangerous, vital fire in Roman's eyes, and him hand, which once touched you softly, now snaked into your waist, pulling you close.

“Do you like to hear that? That I want to fuck you until you scream?” You closed your fingers on him black dress shirt, closing your lip between your teeth to contain a groan.

Roman's mouth went to your neck, pouring wet, surprisingly hot kisses onto your skin.

"Would you like to know that I have imagined fucking you hard for a long time?” His hands went to the hem of your skirt. “That I want to tag you with my cum until you're just mine?"

“Mr.Go-Godfrey!” You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your head go back and lean against the glass wall.

“Tell me, Pretty.” He lifted his lips to hover over yours “Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

You frantically ascended your head, letting a 'Yes' leave with a low sob.

Thereafter Roman wasted no time. He pulled you onto his lap by your thighs, placing you under his desk and throwing all objects on the table with one arm. He kissed you. Furiously. He kissed you as if you were his property, as if you were the answer to all his prayers, his divinity. Your mouth opened to get air and Roman took the opportunity to invade with his tongue, hunting you.

You groaned, or he, or both.

"I'm going to show you what a real fucking is." Roman snarled against your mouth, not considering any consequences before popping all the buttons on your shirt with a two-handed tug, making you gasp.

That seemed to bring you back to Earth.

You pulled your chest away from him, and Roman looked up at you with a questioning expression.

“Ro-Roman, this is wrong.” you said.

“You have no idea how much I don’t give a fuck.” He leaned over to kiss you again, extremely excited by the sight of you in a lacy bra, but you averted your face by placing your hands on him chest.

You said. “I'm going to have to resign this job later if I do it, and I need the job.”

Romam snorted, straightening up again.

“Who says you need to resign? Did you forget that I am the owner of this crap?” He brought his lips to your neck once more, and you sighed softly “Be mine. Be mine."

“I don’t know.”

Romam held your face in his hands, in a gentle touch, which clashed absurdly with the lush fire in his eyes.

“I don't want to fuck you because you work here, but because I think you're fucking beautiful.” He said “Be mine, and if you don't want anything to do with me afterwards, that's okay, let's keep working normally.” Roman moved closer, his voice hitting your mouth “Let me fuck this hot pussy, I'm sure you'll want more later. And I will give you everything you want.”

So you gave in. You kissed him fiercely, spreading your legs wider and settling them between them, letting the skirt roll to pile on your hips and exposing lace panties. Roman reaching down to your back and removing your bra, dropping your mouth over your left breast when it was exposed.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back, curling your fingers in his hair and sighing when Godfrey moved his fingers down the middle of your legs. You whimpered, rummaging around in his hand for some friction, needy and needy.

Roman laughed arrogantly against your breast: “Such a needy little thing, aren't you?” He took a bite out of your left beak as he walked away to remove his belt.

You groaned, your eyes on fire, your body hot and needy. And that's when Roman looked at you. A hot fucking woman half naked at his table, so beautiful and perfect that it was almost a sin. He wanted to be able to record that scene forever. You were perfect. He thought you were extraordinarily perfect.

Then he rushed ferociously at you again, his hands wrapped around your hot body as he moaned on your lips: "Where have you been all my life?"

You gasped, finishing the job of his belt and pants, fighting a battle with his tongue.

“Waiting for this moment.” You provoked it with a sensual chuckle, nibbling on his lower lip.

Roman shared your sly smile, tearing at your panties and holding his own dick in your direction. You moaned louder this time, in need, lowering your hands to his hips and rolling around his waist, trying to get closer.

Roman laughed, sinking his mouth into yours and also plunging his dick into yours smooth folds.

You screamed out loud, clasping your body to his while Roman put an arm around your waist, gluing your body to his and hitting the stick at the end of the well, drawing out a loud groan from both of you. The environment was filled with moaning and pornographic sounds, the table rattling beneath you as the things that were left on top now fell completely. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clenching your nails at the back of your neck as you wrapped your legs around Roman's hips, pulling him further into you and swallowing him completely.

“Holy fuck!” He snarled, lowering his mouth to meet your neck and shoulder, closing his teeth there as he demanded more force in his movements.

Godfrey beat without mercy, without pause, conquering and proclaiming his every piece of your body as his own. You could no longer control your moans, all the sensations exploded inside you like nuclear bombs and pleasure and pain curved all your lines of reasoning. You laid your back on the table, your breasts jumping with the speed and strength of him movements, while Roman clasped his hands on your waist and set a brighter pace as he pulled you onto his dick and propelled your hips at you.

“So fuck hot slut!” He growled, never stopping the pace.

You shouted something that looked like him name, and threw your head back when the orgasm invaded your system, shaking your legs and pulling him deeper. Roman moaned loudly, squeezing your flesh so tightly that it would leave marks tomorrow, while he cum inside you, spilling all the hot liquid on your barriers.

You were sweaty and panting, but Roman didn't give you a second to breathe and process the situation until he leaned over to you, still inside your core, and kissed your right breast, dropping one:

“Dinner at my place tomorrow?”

You laughed, still very airy, and agreed, overcome by tiredness.

“Okay, Godfrey.” Roman gave you another lunge of teasing, making your laugh mix with a groan.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #Roman Godfrey x you #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård x reader #Roman Godfrey x y/n #hemlock grove #Hemlock Grove x reader #bill skarsgård imagine #roman godfrey imagine #Roman Godfrey icons #smut #Hemlock Grove smut #willard russell

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syubub · 3 years

Note

Hey I'm not sure if readings are open now, so feel free to ignore if they're closed, but can you do what you think bts will do for their weddings? Like will it be big and formal or small and spir of the moment. Thank you I love ur blog and all your readings just feel right if that makes sense!💛

I love this so much???

Disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation~

Seokjin

Sun and starseed.

Right off the bat it's gonna be lively and full of jokes and fun

Very light

Leaning a bit towards traditional

Maybe a bit...extravagant?

Like the outfits and decorations will be very cool

Probably a lighter color scheme or some fun pop of color!

Probably all the friends and family come so it big but not BIG

Probably a really fun reception with great food and I wouldn't be surprised if it was in a venue that has a nice outside?

Even outside tbh

I could definitely see it happen in the summer time!

Just so nice and inviting

Maybe on the beach

Yoongi

Ace of cups, death, chariot and take a break

I pulled death and was like ??? Imma need some clarity on that

Now it makes sense

So cute and lovey and he probably wrote the most heartfelt, emotionally raw and beautiful vows known to man

Formally informal

The experience itself at the ceremony almost transports everyone to a whole new plane of existence lol

Like everyone in the room is 100% drawn into the intensity of the moment

The wedding might not happen in korea

Think destination wedding/ in a place that isn't korea

Very relaxing and just cozy, lovey and nice reception

Obviously lots of fun at the reception too but yoongi and his newly betrothed are just in a world of their own

A darker color scheme

I could see him and his betrothed both wearing black

Wouldn't suprise me

It's a bit untraditional but so very them

I wonder too if the ceremony itself might utilize a mesh of traditions?

You know the music would slap.

Definitely smaller and more intimate

(What if yoongi wrote a song to preform??? Or the members made a song without telling him and they suprise him???)

Maybe in an old building or something with a beautiful view.

Hoseok

HOBI

The lovers and align your self

So romantic

Like every cliché kinda romantic

He 100% cries

It would be very hobiesque?

Like its cliche and everything but in a hobi kinda way

Probably a romantic color scheme??

Twinkling lights and dreamy vibes

Pretty traditional and formal at the ceremony

Hobis reception would be so crazy fun

Infections laughter

Dumb childhood stories

Nostalgia

Just so much happiness

It's the shit you would see in a movie

Probably a wedding hall or a "classic" wedding venue

Namjoon

Lol

2 of wands, 2 of cups, queen of swords, council of light

All these came out together

2 of cups is romantic partnership so I think honestly it's so centered around him and his betrothed just being in love that they wouldn't care what the wedding was like?

Like I'm sure they'd care but it's the kind of, "I don't care as long as you're by my side" kinda thing

Very future oriented? So I think they get married simply bc the legality of it? Like by the time they get married, it's like they've practically been married for a long time before that

Maybe a bit spur of the moment

Very straightforward

Idk about where yall live but in America you can just go to the courthouse and be married

So... that might be a thing

Or just a very simple, no fanfare kinda wedding

Maybe a very natural color scheme?

Jimin

Omg

The star, two of coins and awakening

So jimims wedding is an EVENT

and I think it will be a blend between him and his partner you know?

Like, so extravagant

I feel like everyone would want an invitation

A lot of people but still exclusive

Big but exclusive

Not a cheap wedding at ALL

It's very much the most libra wedding the world could think of

Gold and black would be a good choice

It's very much something for people to look at but also very sweet and delicate too

Bold and delicate

Luxurious for sure

I wouldn't be surprised if jimin had 2 weddings?

Like one to actually be married and say the honest vows

And one for the experience and spectacle of having a fantastic wedding

It's extra and so so so fairytale meets bad and boujee

So charming too?

Like it is in no way obnoxious, it's just an experience!!

A cool ass venue or an absolutely decked out wedding hall

Taehyung

Cute

Strength, play and the fountain

Everything you could ever dream of tbh

It's very beautiful and might even influence a new generation of wedding culture?

Like the wedding will be traditional ish but very... modern? Like morphing the beautiful traditions with some newer and unique things

So very tailored to him and his person

Probably a nice uplifting atmosphere

Very romantic and joyful

So. Much. Fun

Dancing and singing and the whole 9 yards

The fountain card is about oneness and being absolutely awake. It's not having to search anymore because you've found it

I honestly don't no what else to say

It's just a beautiful and perfect wedding

Probably not a million people but its full of the people that have been important to them in whatever way

Like, the people that are ment to witness it

Marriage is definitely something special and almost spiritual at this wedding.

Really nice

I would like to think its at a farm or a wedding hall

Jungkook

Three of cups, four of cups and get grounded

Very chill

Definitely with family and friends and not many more people

Everyone is enjoying and celebrating and being themselves

The ceremony might be pretty traditional or formal but it's kinda like when jk had his school ceremony and he was all nervous but everyone was cheering him on

Could also be an informal "wedding" at a Vinyard

Very close and comfy and just love

Sharing an important moment with important people

Maybe sings a song

Maybe plays pop punk and edm at the reception lol

It's just so nice

Wouldn't be surprised if purple was in the color scheme

Definitely lots of drinks to go around as well!

Everyone cries

Maybe an outside reception or even an outdoor ceremony?

I think fall or spring would be the perfect time for his wedding!!

Very familial

Very nice

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featherymalignancy · 3 years

Note

So, idk why I’ve had this thought about IVV. Bear with me!

I always picture a scene where Nesta and Cash go to an event of some sort (a friend’s wedding, Solstice party for Nesta’s firm, etc). Of course Cash is always a wonderful, charming guest and people enjoy talking to him. He makes them comfortable, and they seem at ease around him.

Over time, they broach the subject of wine— something he’s carefully avoided, especially when the wine provided is not something he would have necessarily recommend— and he’s doing the polite thing by sipping the “meh” wine and saying diplomatic things to be polite.

But there’s usually someone who considers themselves quite the expert, and they challenge him on most things he says. And they’re outright wrong. So he keeps gripping the back of Nesta’s dress and sending her pleading looks when they aren’t looking so that maybe she’ll save him. Because he’s capable of a lot of things— of being polite and reserving his own opinions— until someone is not only dead wrong but rude on top of it.

Eventually they develop a system of sorts where on the way to these events, Nesta helps mentally prepare him and his wine snobbery for some of the repeat offenders. He’s receptive, but he always makes her promise to bail him out when they start to approach his breaking point or one of his top 3 pet peeves. Otherwise, she’s allowed to find a little amusement in his light suffering.

Idk if this is something you would agree with my any means, but the scene insists on itself in my brain 😅

OMG I love it SO much, Cassian just tugging urgently on Nesta’s skirt in child-like panic as she casually bats him away because yes, she heard Karl from M&A insist that rosé is made by blending white and red grapes, but she’s also in the middle of a conversation, and Cassian is just going to have to wait! 😂

When I first started reading your headcanon, I also imagined it going something like this:

Nesta has—from Cash’s perspective—been seemingly avoiding bringing him to any of her work functions, which he of course internalizes as her thinking he will be bad for her carefully-crafted professional reputation.

Luckily, Nesta and Cash’s relationship is in a really healthy, communicative place, and instead of letting this unsubstantiated fear fester in his mind, Cash casually asks Nesta about it.

Nesta is equal parts amused and vexed by this question.

This isn’t about Cash not being well-recieved, she assures him. In fact, she’s confident he would be almost annoyingly popular, and that she’d never hear the end of it.

She hasn’t invited Cash because as delighted as most of her colleagues would likely be by Cash’s dazzling smile and quick wit, she doesn’t think he’d find them nearly as charming. Lawyers can be pedantic at the best of times and egomaniacal at worst, which can make for dreadful cocktail conversation if one wasn’t careful. If Cash doesn’t believe her, he’s welcome to come along to the next party and see for himself.

Mostly satisfied with this answer but still eager to prove to Nesta that he belongs in her well-heeled, erudite world, Cash goes HARD in the paint at the first firm event he attends. Chatting to everyone, making all the right jokes and generally just working the shit out of the room. When Nesta tries to stay close—claiming that she just wants to be on hand in case Cash needs rescuing—Cash eventually convinces her that he doesn’t need hand-holding and that she should work the room...

....and that’s when he gets stuck talking to Todd, a hopelessly long-winded Electronic Discovery Consultant that everyone—save poor Cash—knows to avoid at functions like this.

Doubly unfortunate is that Todd has recently taken an interest in wine, and now considers himself something of an “amateur professional” on the subject (who is going to tell this poor sap that one cannot, by definition, be both an ‘amateur’ and a ‘professional’ in the same area??)

However, Cash doesn’t really have a rude bone in his body, and he’s still stubbornly trying to prove his adeptness at navigating this type of socio-political environment, so he’s just sorta—stuck listening to Todd incorrectly mansplain wine. The time for politely interjecting that Cash is a sommelier himself has long since come and gone, so Cash just has to nod along and pretend everything Todd’s saying isn’t wrong.

Just went he’s starting to panic that he might literally have to fake a stroke to get out of this convo, Cash feels Nesta’s hand at his elbow. Before Todd can attempt to restart his educational monologue for Nesta’s sake, she cuts him off.

“Todd, my boyfriend may be too polite to tell you that he’s a Master Sommelier and knows more about wine than any of the rest of us could hope to learn in a lifetime, but thankfully I’m not.”

Having done the seemingly impossible of stunning Todd into silence, Nesta flashes him a quick smile and just says, “Will you excuse us?” Before steering Cash away.

Cash only has time for a sheepish wave before Nesta drags him to safety behind a pillar, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Cash can only really roll his eyes.

“Go ahead, say it.”

“I told you,” Nesta says, voice a little sing-song. “Now, are you going to be honest with the next arrogant ignoramoose who tries to tell you about your own job, or am I going to have to get you one of those ‘Ask Me About Wine. I’m an Expert!’ Buttons they wear under their nametags at Whole Foods?”

#Feathery writes #In Vino Headcanon #Nessian Modern AU #Sommelier!Cash #Lawyer!Nesta

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leahseclipse · 3 years

Text

Souvenirs, secrets and coffee dates

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Suspicions about a possible partner rise when Spencer starts buying souvenirs and closely monitoring his phone more than he usually does; as he plans a few surprises for his beloved partner in secret.

Warnings: Mentions of case, usual cm stuff, slight mentions of death, loss of a person (not concerning any of the characters; only mentioned in a few paras)

Category: Fluff

Word count: 11.6k

A/N: Hello!! This fic is another fic I accidentally wrote for an event, for @sunlight-moonrise !! sorry if some moments are badly written,,,,hope you enjoy tho!!

The total fic is 25.1k, so i preferred to cut it in two parts so it wouldn’t be too long.

Continuation of Dear diary

After we got together, days quickly got to weeks, weeks to months, and...now

It’s been more than a year.

Time went by more quickly than I thought it ever would, I often think about that diary that allowed the two of us to meet.

I'm glad that she had it in the first place, and that she lost it after. If she didn't have it, she would have either left a book that belonged to the library, (so, not many chances to find her, or even know she exists, you know), or possibly an item that could have her information, like a phone, or whatever she could have left, but, she could have remembered about the diary and take it.

If it would have happened, we wouldn't have talked, and we still wouldn't be, as I just did a few minutes ago on the phone.

And now that I think about it, It’s been a while since I haven’t seen y/n.

Even though we always talk on the phone, it's not quite the same.

I’m always thinking about her, especially when I’m away on a case and the only thing that allows us to see the other is through a cell phone.

I tried not to let her know I’m tired, I don’t want her to worry too much, she’s the type of person to freak out about the smallest thing, and I wouldn’t really like her to.

She worries enough when I’m away, so I wouldn’t like y/n to have another problem to worry about until I get back.

I hate to let her know; but if there was a word to describe the week I just spent;

exhausting.

It’d definitely be that one, 100%.

Every single case is exhausting, especially when It’d last more than intended; when the profile has to be done again because of sudden changes, when leads turned out to be fake, or don’t make the case progress in any way, and a ton of reasons that if were to be enunciated, would be worth a encyclopedia long.

We all know from the moment we’re announced of a case that we'll come back from it completely dead because of the non-existent sleep we would have had.

One week earlier, I thought it’d be different from usual, and I turned out to be...completely wrong. I had woken up at 3am in a start, just an hour after I had gone to bed with y/n.

She had woken up when I happened to be in the middle of the call, and locked her eyes in mine when I had turned her way while on the phone.

Y/N already knew from the moment I received the call that it meant that I had to go, it had been a few months since we had been together, so she knew the song well after she happened to witness six or seven of the calls.

I knew she didn’t mind because I had to do my job, she has always been very understanding about my work.

Of course, I think that the fact that I have to go away for god knows how long upsets her, but not in a hateful way.

I sometimes wonder if she actually really minds the fact that I would go; even though she always says that she doesn’t.

Whenever I go on a case, I don’t even know when I’ll come back. I’m not coming back in three months, but not two days later.

All we can do to let the other know we’re okay is to call, or send a message; when we happen to have spare time to do it in between breaks.

Well, speaking of calls, these are often calls I have to do when no one else I know is around. I haven’t told any of my colleagues that I’ve been dating her.

I still wonder to this day if it’s because they never mentioned it, saw it, because I didn’t want them to know, or even….both.

I guess it was okay that way, they didn’t know, and nothing changed. We’d still talk the same way as when I wasn’t with her, except for some details, which makes me come back to the ‘talk with her when no one else is around’ topic.

As I am an idiot in love, I can’t help but smile whenever I talk to her, I just can’t help it. I always like to hear about her day, how she’s doing, talk about whenever we both have in mind, I just even appreciate hearing her. But, all that I’m doing when I’m with her isn’t something I can do when I’m around others.

They’d immediately want to know the reason of my behavior, which would certainly go up all the way to Garcia that would certainly harass me about it for weeks, probably with hundreds of mails and texts, as I have to use my computer for mail work, and my phone for cases, so...texting while no one is around is a much better solution.

I don’t think she minds either. She likes to hear about them, but she never mentions seeing them that often, I think she likes the whole ‘secret’ relationship stuff, she kind of sees it like a game in which you would have to go through levels, without being caught by the villains and eventually, lose the game, so, being discovered.

It wouldn’t be that bad if they’d find out, they’d just probably ask themselves why I wouldn’t have told it, or how they didn’t find out, but overall, I think they’d be happy.

But, I like it that way, when we’re together, we’re in our bubble, it’s just the two of us, no one else.

We always try not to mention work, as it mainly is the reason we can’t see each other most of the time, which is...a bit more for me, as I’m often still on a case when she happens to not be at work.

I would like to say that the little time we get to spend together is always enough, but when we finally get time, and I get called, it isn't quite enough.

I always wish I could be there more often, I'm at work most of the time and I'm afraid it could somehow impact our relationship; even if again, it isn’t a bother at all to y/n.

One of my worries when we started dating was that she'd feel frustrated because of that; the fact that I'm not here as often as she'd like me to be, that I'm busy when she's not.

I sometimes have to call her to tell that I won’t be able to make it home after I originally told her that I would come.

At first, she didn’t know what I was doing, even when I’d call her. I didn’t even tell y/n at the library back then.

I just mentioned once that it was an office job, and I don’t think she really had a problem with it, she wouldn't force much on the subject.

And now that I think of it,, it wouldn’t have changed much about our relationship if I had exactly said what I was doing.

The way she had discovered it was really odd, but...not that bad.

I had come to her apartment after she was done with work, and I had shortly gone to the bathroom after entering.

I had left my coat on the table, so she had decided to put it on a chair for me.

What happened next would probably seem stupid and cliché if I'd tell it to anyone, but my badge had slipped out from it and naturally, she picked up what just fell on the ground.

I had crossed the door of the bathroom to see her staring at it, with a confused and kind of surprised look.

It was a mix of these two emotions, I'd say.

I didn't exactly plan for her to find out like that, but I think that when I had previously mentioned an office job, she didn't quite expect that kind of office job.

Which stays understandable, as you don't necessarily think about them literally working at the FBI itself when an office job is mentioned.

And the thing is that, it isn't even a full office job, as I am literally...risking my life out on the field and have a chance to get injured, and uh…in the worst scenario, not make it alive.

So, I think that the fact that I didn't want her to know was to kind of, protect her so she wouldn't worry while I'm at work, asking herself if the last time she would ever see me would be when I had left for work in a hurry.

Yeah, I know, it's kind of morbid to think of it, but, I can't really ignore them at the same time.

They’re mostly the risks that are included, I was completely aware of that when I had entered, so...I can't really complain about anything. No one forced me, it really was a decision that I made alone.

But, it went well overall.

We can say that she was surprised, that is a fact.

But she wasn't mad that I didn't tell her. She understood that I didn't want her to know because of the stuff that makes my job risky, which can be scary, but she was supportive.

She asked me a bunch of questions after that, they all were various and different. I felt like I was a teacher answering questions of a kid, considering how energetic y/n was.

Eventually, the subject of the jet, that I'd travel from one state to another came, and that's when I felt like something lightened inside her.

She had never mentioned it back then, so that way, we both had a common point, a small secret that the other didn’t know.

She had begun talking about her passion of travelling, discovering places she wondered what could be made of, how it was, she always was curious to know more, she'd go wherever her mind would tell her to...which was funny, as the mind would often lead her to the same place, many times, strangely.

Y/N also had the habit of taking books from different places. I remember her having copies of the same book, but each were in a different language.

She didn’t do it with all of her books, because if she did, she’d have to literally dedicate a whole room to store them.

She hasn't been able to travel much after she started working full time, with little vacation time. But if she didn’t have this full time job, she’d travel as much as possible.

So, I had a small idea.

As I'd often travel, I could possibly grab a souvenir from the state I'm in, and give it to her. I thought it could be fun, she also liked collecting objects from the places she'd go to, so, I thought she would probably like the idea.

I didn't say that I planned to do it the first time, I did want to surprise her, even if I was already doing it when I'd come home when she thought I wouldn’t.

It always was a surprise to see me coming back, neither of us knew when it'd be done, so I would rarely get to tell her when I could be back.

But, the gifts I began doing were very special, it meant something to her, what she liked, and eventually, to me.

She meant everything to me and if that was making her happy, it truly was all that mattered in that moment.

The first souvenir I had purchased when I happened to be in California, we had just wrapped up the case; when I had decided to wander around, not far from where the jet was.

I had already gone around quite a few times since the beginning of my career, so I knew where I was going.

That’s when my eyes laid on a shop I hadn't seen before. It must have opened recently; but it really seemed nice at first sight. It sold a bunch of souvenirs, some related to the state’s local traditions, or some cute stuff with the name of the state on it.

As I quietly entered the small shop and walked a bit around, I noticed a small keychain of a bee next to a honeycomb.

Two details above the name of the state written in calligraphy could be seen; so after a bit of thinking, millions of questions whether it was nice or not, I just decided to take it.

I hadn't even realized that I had spent a whole hour in it stressing over what could be fine and what wasn’t.

It basically was a call from Morgan that made me realize that I had been there for almost an hour.

I did eventually make my way back to where the group was, I didn't even know they were actually there because they were waiting for me, for...a bit of time.

I had just told them some kind of excuse, and even if I think they didn’t quite believe it 100%, the subject had been quickly changed. I think they kind of forgot about it after.

I didn’t have many relatives in California, and they hadn’t seen the reason for my prolonged absence this time.

It’s just that, even if it had been almost half a year, I still wasn’t quite ready, I still wanted everything to be the two of us, for a bit more. We didn’t have a deadline or anything, so we could take as much time as possible to decide about it.

I don’t think they’ll be angry, just really surprised that I hid the fact that I had a girlfriend from them for a while now.

They just probably won’t have thought that the genius of the BAU would spend his free time with his girlfriend, and not with books and paperwork as they expect me to, and as I always did.

So, they'll know that I didn’t answer my phone because I had muted it when I was with her.

They probably won’t believe it at all at first.

They'll probably think of a prank, but when it’s gonna hit, I think I have to get ready for a week of questions and conversations about the fact that the genius got a girlfriend.

I know it isn’t mean at all, they’ll just be surprised, and happy for me, but, every time I try to talk to them, thinking they chose to abandon the subject, they’ll immediately try to talk about it.

It’ll have to happen eventually -if they do find out- but I still want it to stay secret for now.

The fact that I also buy stuff for her can also be seen as a sort of top-secret mission, if -of course- the words that I’m using aren’t too exaggerated.

I don’t usually buy souvenirs for myself, so if they see me doing it, I think they’ll try to think if it isn’t for someone else.

But, are they going to think it’s for my mother, or directly for a possible girlfriend?

I tend to stutter when I get nervous sometimes, and as it’ll be about y/n, I might not manage to stay serious.

I’m supposed to not let them know I have a girlfriend, even if I really want them to know.

I kind of feel bad, because that looks like I don’t want them to know because I don’t like her, but that’s the complete opposite.

I love her more than anything, and the fact that I don’t want her to be involved with my work is because I mostly want her to be safe.

There's been many cases where various members of the team, or even people working near us, had to witness their loved ones getting involved in a case, and I wouldn’t want that to happen to y/n at all.

I know that one day or another, we’ll tell them, and that when the day comes, I’ll have to make sure nothing happens by calling her every second to know if she’s okay.

I’ll be worried as hell for her, even if that doesn’t mean that she’ll immediately get targeted, I’m just a worried mess about that.

I’m probably the only one thinking about that, constantly.

Does it make me sound crazy? Yes and no at the same time, if I ever were to answer that question in an honest way.

I just tend to imagine scenarios that probably have no chance of ever happening when it comes to someone that I deeply care about, which is...basically the whole team, my mom, and her.

So: literally everyone in my life right now.

Back to where I was, it’s better not to let anything slip out, even if I do feel like...it isn’t the thing I’d usually do.

It..isn’t quite something people would expect me to do.

Maybe I’ll talk to her about it when I come back, it may be a good time, I guess.

Whether the choice would be, I'll still keep bringing her souvenirs as I always did, she likes them every time, and even displayed some a bit everywhere around her apartment.

This kind of became a tradition between us.

Y/N would often do the same by organiszing nights where I'd be the one deciding what we would do, which would be watching doctor who till 2AM most of the time.

I wonder if she doesn’t hate me after that.

I do hope we’ll get to it often.

I do miss that.

When was the last time I got a moment to breathe without having to worry about the work waiting for me outside?

A while ago, if I had to be honest with myself.

I don’t even feel like thinking about it, it’s really depressing.

It’s been a while now since the last time I had time to talk with y/n, because trust me, I’ve never been waiting that much for a break to get to call her than for something else.

I’m just waiting for just a minute to get to talk, but the odds aren’t going in my favor today apparently. It kind of makes me feel bad to just send a text, I know she’ll understand I’m busy with work and can’t call, but still, I prefer to call her over than texting words.

I tend to prefer to hear her voice and get her to talk if I ever hear worry in her voice, because I always know that she tends to not say everything in texts, I understand her on that one, a message and an actual conversation isn’t the same.

You can’t really figure out the mood of the person in texts, it’s just commas, points, but otherwise, it’s up to you to guess whether they just typed like that or if something is up.

I just like to know if she’s okay, I wouldn’t want her to spend the day feeling down, and not talk about it because I’m either busy, or because she’s afraid it might add more stress than I already have because of my job.

But I’d never refrain y/n from talking about what bothers her, on the contrary, I always want to know what’s in her thoughts, I’m often absent, so at least, I’d prefer to know she feels okay, because otherwise, I won’t stop worrying until I know.

I haven't forgotten about the souvenir tradition either.

It's been a while since I've been doing that, and we both have begun liking it more and more each time, I get to talk to her about the place I got it from, and sometimes, I even end up rambling about the case.

She also tells me stuff about the place if she visited it, or if she didn't; places that make her think of the place the souvenir was from, it's always interesting to have these conversations, we both get to learn stuff.

When these kinds of conversations occur, we either continue the subject or change it, and don't even notice how much time we spend talking.

Our best record is 2:54AM. Let's hope we don't go further next time we have a chat; because we always end up regretting it the next morning.

Considering the lack of sleep I have, and how late I go because of my work, sleeping late on my days off isn't helping at all.

It only makes it worse for when I'll actually get back to work, so, we'll try not to stay up that late and sleep to at least enjoy the sleep I usually don't have when on a case.

I’m always saying that, but it’s not that easy sometimes, we usually don’t think about the time we spend talking, so, the ‘going to bed early’ matter is still an unsolved problem for now.

Talking about it, I did get to sleep early today, we decided to continue the searches and I have to admit that I didn’t sleep like that for a while.

I can’t really say that I hope it arrives often because that would literally be like not doing much, because as we don’t sleep as much as we’d like to, we can totally stay in bed all day if no one comes to get us out.

It reminds me of when I was around 12, my mom would sometimes allow me to stay at home, and we would just sit in bed while she would talk to me about what she liked, anything that went through her mind.

She does like to hear about my mom too, and actually slid the matter in the conversation quite a few times, more than I could ever count, little does she know my mom does the same, they both are happy to hear about the other, they look like two best friends sometimes.

I do wonder if they’ll act like that, it won’t really surprise me if they actually do to be honest, they both like similar things, used to do same things before, and I think y/n would like to hear about some of my mom’s stories, or even just my mom talking, she always manages to keep the other person interested, I always feel like a kid when I talk with her.

I do guess some things never change.

They will both have a lot to tell, y/n traveled a lot when she was younger, and still remembers every trip she did, and noted everything down in not one notepad, but at least three of four of them.

She writes what she did, where she went, what she liked the most, some of her favorite things like, stuff she purchased, activities, it really is a whole story, she could literally write one book for each trip at this point and if I’d tell her about it, I do think she would do it.

And sometimes, when she would read a book, or even when we would just go to the library together, she would often find something that reminded her of one of her travels.

She mentioned not having an eidetic memory at all, but by moments, I wonder if she doesn’t have it without knowing it, considering all of the stuff she remembers.

Y/N always liked to do new stuff she hasn’t done, she likes to learn a lot, but only when it comes to non-educational purposes, she wasn’t really a good student.

Apparently to her, sitting all day in a chair with a teacher yelling at you, or either saying nothing but nonsense you can’t understand was absolutely ‘boring as hell’, as she said with her own words.

I do, and don’t agree with that at the same time, I don’t know. I’ve always had the habit of studying instead of doing what most people my age would do when I was young, but I did want to do something else after working more than my liking.

Guess it hasn’t changed much now, I pretty much work most of the time, and, unfortunately, I don’t get to rest whenever I want, only if the case happens to be over.

But, enough talking of the case, and all of the days of absence that comes with it.

I already have to endure it, so might as well not plunge the knife deeper than it is, it’s been many years since it’s been occurring and it shouldn’t be more of a bother than it is as I’ve already made myself into the idea in the first week.

I actually wonder if it’s the same on her side, I know she doesn’t have the same sleep habits, but she doesn’t always go to sleep at the same time. It’s always because of various reasons like; she began remembering a trip and wrote about it, thought about a trip too and got lost in her thoughts.

I often find her daydreaming most of the time, it does remind me of myself with my books, I don’t pay much attention to what's happening around me.

If I take for example the moment we met, I don’t know if it really counts. I only saw her diary first, but I paid attention to the item that belonged to her, so, in a way, it counts.

She’s also pretty much what keeps me sane when I’m working, she manages to send messages at the right time just when I need to. I have no idea how she does it, but if she could do it everyday, I literally would not mind at all.

I always like to hear whatever she talks about, a book, a story she already told a week ago, I know she likes to talk about them on repeat until she either forgets it or moves to another one.

She seriously could have been a teacher if she had chosen another career, her voice is really soothing, and she explains the words in a manner that makes the story more interesting that you’d thought.

I often found myself asking her to tell another one when I had found the previous one too short for my liking, when it literally lasted over half an hour.

She literally has the power of transforming me as a kid when she talks about stuff she did on a trip.

But, even after she told me all of that, I don’t really enjoy the kind of travelling I’m doing. It isn’t like a vacation, at all, it really is the exact opposite. I don’t really come here for the purpose of having fun.

I do hope I’ll get to travel with her once, in the purpose of actually having fun instead of two hours of sleep, having a chance of -possibly- getting injured, and all of the good and funny risks of my job.

And, while I’m talking about it, I do hope, if we decide not to go far, that I’m not going to actually have a case when I’m supposed to have a vacation.

This stays like, extra rare, but it can’t really be ruled out at the same time. So...let’s hope it doesn’t occur, I’d prefer not.

If we travel, it’ll be to stay out of work, so if the reason that basically refrains us from travelling happens, I’m not sure either of us would be pleased with it.

I'm far enough away, so, let’s not add more and hope that scenario won’t occur once.

I’ve already stayed buried for way too long in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice Morgan standing besides me before I thought of turning my head in his direction.

“Oh, sorry. Thought of something and got carried away...did you say something?”

“I know that I don’t usually talk about that with you, but I was just wondering, is there something going on? You always go away for calls, have something to do before we get back home, or after, I thought I’d check on you, just to know.”

Well shit. What the hell am I supposed to say now?

“No, it’s nothing, really. I just um...it’s just some stuff with...an old friend. It’s nothing bad, I’m fine.”

Ok, you’re definitely screwed right now, good luck to get out of this mess Spencer.

“Nothing, really? That’s kinda rare from you.” He commented, which made the two of us laugh, Derek always managed to lighten the situation with whatever he thought could do it, even if some words happened to be placed...at the wrong moment sometimes; but he’d never mean to harm, always to make things better as much as he could.

This situation wasn’t a bad one, but I definitely think that he could sense that I wasn't telling…what he truly would take as the right answer.

It definitely wasn't bad, but it probably won't get as bad as it is, I've already put myself in a mess I have no idea how to avoid by not managing to find my words and stuttering.

That really was the right thing to do to avoid all suspicions.

"I'm just tired, that's it. I couldn't sleep much this week, so...yeah, I—" I said, as I was getting to thank whatever god made me get out of this mess by making someone call.

At this point, even if it was a number that called me to advertise whatever stuff they wanted people to buy, I'd still be thankful for it.

I slightly got the phone out of my pocket, it wasn't an unknown number, just y/n; the one that just saved me from an interrogation.

I swear that when I come back I'll cancel our doctor who marathon, cook her whatever she wants, give her a bath, massage her, because she really saved me from a conversation I couldn't get out of and didn't know how to either.

Gosh what would I do without her? I'd be dead right now.

"Oh, it's uh, my friend, I have to answer. I uh...see you in a few minutes." I excused myself as I went into an empty room, checking a million times if I locked the door behind me.

"Gosh, y/n...you just saved me. Tell me whatever you want when I get back, I'll do it."

"Just breathe, it's ok. You sound like you just ran through the whole city." Y/N told me, as I heard like she was holding off laughter probably from how dramatic I was acting.

And in a way, she was right, I wouldn't be mad if she laughed. "Wha- What happened?" She asked.

"Well uh, I was thinking of something and got lost in my thoughts, and all of a sudden Morgan comes to me, asking if everything was okay because he wanted to check in case, and like an idiot, I stuttered at the moment when I told that it was a friend, because I almost mentioned that it was my girlfriend."

"And you just did a whole theater play for that? They'll have to know at some point, and if that happened, it wouldn't have been death. Still, it wouldn't have been the best way, but not the worst one either."

"Yeah, I know y/n, but, I prefer them to know another day, a special one, not when a colleague asked me if I was fine when my whole team could know, and possibly Garcia, who won't stop for a whole week."

"You're being dramatic Dr. Reid."

"No- I'm not!"

"You are."

"N—"

"You. Are. I have the last word, no matter what. I don't know when and how you want them to know, but we can't keep hiding it till we're married and have two kids with a third on the way at some point. And they're not anyone, they're like your family, and if you like, respect and trust them, so do I."

"Yeah, you're right. But not now. I trust you too, don't go behind my back to the office either.”

"You just gave me a suggestion."

"And that wasn't a suggestion."

"That seemed like it."

"They won't let you in, so, do what you want."

"I'll show them pictures."

"They could be photo-shopped, anyone with good skill can make it seem like a real picture."

"I have videos."

"Same thing, it stays a file that can be edited with a software. How do you think they do the effects in movies and shows? With a software."

"You're no fun Reid."

"You're lying, you always laugh at my jokes."

"No, I'm not."

"I can even tell through a call that you're lying."

"You're a bad profiler."

"Then how do I solve crimes and can tell that you love me, Spencer Reid, the ultimate genius." I said, with a dramatic voice as if I was saying lines of a play.

"...I do love you."

"I already know it because I do too."

"Don’t avoid the subject, we’re still gonna have to tell them.”

“...really?” I asked, with a tiny voice.

“Yeah, really. I think he asked you because you were acting like nothing but suspicious, and if, on top of that, he saw you buying stuff, you’re not close to being dead. And also, if I remember correctly from what you said, Penelope is really chatty, so that might go up to her, and once she hears about it, you know. She might not have an eidetic memory, but I don’t think that she, or even anyone else will forget it.”

“I’m dead, I know. I’m still asking myself if he’s not the only one that knows. They might all know it but keep their mouths shut. I can’t go and ask them either, so it’s all a waiting, guessing game right now.”

“You should have told them from the beginning.”

“I have to remind you that you weren’t against it either. We’re both in it.”

“...true. You have a point genius.”

“So, what’s the plan then?”

“Tell them at some point, we’re not going to reveal it in ten years. I have no possibility of reaching out to them, except stealing your phone, which isn’t possible as you’re away, so the only way they’ll know is through you.”

“But, we’re not really forced to. There’s not a rule or anything that says you are obligated to state if you have a partner or not.”

“It’s not the same, they’re like your family, in a way, if you ignore DNA stuff and all, you’ve been working with them longer than we know each other, they’re not strangers, I think they’ll be happy to know you’re sharing your life with someone.”

“You have a point this time.”

“Mind you, I’ve had the point since the beginning of our chat, which I think…had been lasting way too long, by the way.”

“How many….” I questioned, as I took away the phone from my ear to see the time. “Oh, almost six minutes, that’s...a bit long for a chat I’m supposed to have with a friend.”

“Yeah, a bit too long. Oh, by the way, before you go, I’ll be at your apartment, I felt like it needed a small clean, it’s been a while since you’ve been away, and you’ve been staying a lot at my place, so might as well come back to a clean apartment.”

“You don’t have to, I’ll clean myself.”

“I've been there for the last three hours, I didn’t plan on asking for your permission. I just have to hope no one you know decides to come by.”

“Penelope? No, she’s always busy.”

“You told that last time, and she popped up out of nowhere because she had something to give you, and if she had a key, she would have seen a half naked girl in the middle of her friend’s apartment, how’s that?”

“I didn’t know she would actually come, she never did before.” I said, with a small voice, kind as if I was being grounded by my mother.

“Unless someone forgot to charge their phone, which was you, so that’s why she came.”

“It only happened once.”

“And it’ll happen again if you don’t charge your phone. Luckily you were there and you heard, because if you didn’t hear and as I said, she happened to have a key, what would have happened if she would have seen items that belong to me, and the owner of these when you’re supposed to have no partner in your life as they don’t know anything?”

“Um...they would have known.”

“That’s why we have to stop this small game soon. I sounded like a mother talking to her child, I’m...sorry about that. Um...I know you can’t, as you like...remember everything, but, do as your brain is a computer, delete that chat.”

She also sounds like a child too, we’re both kids to be honest.

“I can’t do that.”

“Um...what about I buy you books?”

“We can make a deal then.”

“I can’t believe that...we’re both kids.”

“Yeah, but I mean, that’s why we get along.” I commented.

“I can’t believe how I’m still handling you. We also look like an old married couple.”

“You do, I don’t.”

“I’m not so sure about that- Spencer it’s been almost ten minutes now, you should uh...go back.”

“Ten minutes...since when? Now I’m definitely dead.”

“I wish I could say yes but, you’re almost dead, if you manage to avoid suspicion after...of course.”

“Yeah, that’s an easy thing to say…?”

“I can’t talk to them and say ‘oh hi, I’m Spencer’s secret girlfriend, since half a year’, because apparently it’s not the right moment.” She said, ironically.

“Okay, I get it...we’ll do it when I get back, I don’t know. We can’t wait another year at this point, it’s a bit too late and the suspicions raised themselves...a bit too much to be dissipated.”

“It’s been a while so, yeah, it’s time. We should have told them since we met at the library.”

“Yeah, maybe we should have..”

“But we can be proud of ourselves, especially you, if uh...of course, they don’t know. Because, I’m just saying, but...they could know, but choose to not say anything until they’ll realise that you know that they know you have a girlfriend. I’m...just saying.”

“So, there might be a chance that I’m already screwed and I didn’t know, or that they just have suspicions but don’t really know…? If you get it…?”

“Yep, and the worst part is that you can’t go and ask them, because if they actually don’t know, you’ll just be revealing what you thought they knew but actually don’t.”

“That whole story is an endless maze. I’m thinking we shouldn’t have waited that long.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah. I think I’m gonna go, I’ll uh...be back tomorrow towards the beginning, middle of the afternoon, we’re almost done, we have like...some papers left and other stuff.”

“Okay, don’t make me wait too long, I’ll be waiting at your place.”

“I’ll be back before you even know it.”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you too.”

They’re not gonna believe the friend excuse anymore at this point

I stayed for more than ten minutes, no one stays that long with me. I don’t really know, the team’s always with me, so when we talk it’s case related or short texts in general, and it’s not really part of my habits to go away for that long.

I guess we’ll see.

With a soft sigh, I unlocked the door before lowering the handle down, exiting the room to walk to where I originally was, already hoping to get some remarks.

“I was about to come to where you went to check if you weren’t dead.”

“It’s been a while since we talked, that’s all Derek. Why?”

“Nah, just asking.” He said, raising his two hands up above his head.

“Ok then..?” I almost panicked when I answered, but I think that my reaction was enough for him to see it as I was confused...I think.

Okay, I think they already know by now, awesome.

I even came to the point of wondering if they knew and were just pretending to not know all along. They could have stayed in silence, acting like they didn’t know.

It also was a bit my fault, I did let some details slip, like my behavior, how I checked my phone more often, my long absences, again, how I talk, avoiding suspicion became kind of difficult.

Especially a bit after we started dating; we got really closer, and talking often helped us fill the distance. I really felt bad for leaving her alone that often, so at least I’d feel less guilty by talking to her whenever I could.

It really changed fast, just a few days ago, I didn’t even plan on telling it at all, but, y/n did convince me to not do so, and now, it might not be a good idea to continue pretending.

It’s kind of obvious that they know something is up, they’ve known me longer than her, so obviously, they know when something is different about me.

I just...was so focused on her, that I didn’t even think that they’d notice to be honest.

But, as she said, I don’t think that it’ll be...that bad. They’ll be understanding, and happy, that’s all.

They’ve always been a bit shocked when they’d think I had a girlfriend; because I really wasn’t the guy to have one to them, I don’t really know how to explain as I’m not in their heads, but I saw it that way, but again, that wasn’t in a mean way, they were just surprised.

Except this time, they won’t think that I don’t have a partner, they’ll definitely think I have one this time.

We didn’t really pay attention to the world around us, especially me, if I were to be really honest.

I just fell so hard for her, I would always be talking to her, thinking about her, and only looking at her when she’d be with me.

I always hold her hand when we go out together, I don’t know why, I can’t say more than a few minutes without it, and also, it’s always funny to compare our hand sizes, it’s cute.

Also another thing, I can’t help but mimic the emotions on her face sometimes, without even realizing it, because when she smiles, I also happen to do so.

I just can’t help myself but think about things that make her so perfect in my eyes; she truly means a lot to me and I can’t seem to imagine what my life would be like if she didn’t happen to be in it.

I remember saying stuff like; “When you meet your soulmate, remember that the act of bringing you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other.”, or even, “Maybe the events in our lives were set in motion a long time ago”; that may sound like cheesy sentences, or whatever means to anyone else; but I guess it’s just how I see things, I do mean it when I say these.

I’ve noticed she always likes to hear them, she wouldn’t see it as rambling or anything else, just a sentence like another one I’d casually say, she admitted quite a few times that my talking never bothered her in any way.

Even if most of it was rambling, and facts, stuff that anyone else would be bored of after one minute; but y/n never did, she would often be the one to ask me about it, she wanted to know stuff too, and get to brag about it to people she knew.

I really like these little things, the small details about each other, what we think, what we like, and what we know to do to make the other happy, including the small souvenirs I bring her when I get the occasion.

This time, it’s a small pumpkin, it’s not halloween related at all, just a cute pin. I know we’re literally in January, but it’s our favorite holiday, and we happen to talk about it all year, no matter what month it is.

We also like other holidays, but that one stays our favorite. We’ve always had a liking for it.

Since it’s almost February, it means that Valentine's Day is close, so...I could possibly do a small event, or a letter, or even organise some stuff we could do on dates.

There’s plenty of time to plan all of it, I’ll just keep it in the corner of my head and think about it again when the occasion comes.

No matter how many times it happens, I can’t help but always feel relaxed when I come back home after a case, it isn’t always fully happy as the thought of the families often haunt my mind, I can’t help but feel a bit guilty, the cases ends up getting resolved, but the families never move on, only me as I go back to the bureau, and get called for another.

It’s always hard to think about it, and we’ve at least found ourselves getting stuck on a case even after it got resolved; but at least, if that can be reassuring, in a way, the ones who had committed the crime won’t harm anyone else and make other people lose their loved ones, that’s what I try to tell myself when I can’t get the thought out of my mind.

It also helps to be with the people I'm closest to and appreciate, with the team, we've been through it more than we can recall, and it helps to talk about it between us, try to find a tiny ounce of light in the tragedy, and even when the case impacts us personally, we try to move on, because even if we don't know the victim most of the time, it's not good to suffer for too long, they wouldn't want that for their families, or anyone else that might have cared about them, we have to learn to move on, at our own pace and honor their lives.

That's the best we can do for them, and even though we don't know them, we sometimes happen to think about the victims, it's hard not to get impacted by it, but when it happens, we have to try to not let it touch deeply and do our best to find the author of the crime, for them, and their loved ones, whom the pain will lessen with time for some, but will always stay deep inside their hearts.

The aftermath of a case is always rough, but we don't have much choice to face it like we can, and get ready for the next one.

I'm really glad to have everyone in my life around me, they're the one who I talk to, confide in, laugh with, and spend the most of my time with, but that last is an exception sometimes.

When I'm not on a case and have no papers, I often happen to be with y/n, and find some kind of excuse to say to the team they believe...or not, it depends.

When I happen to decline their offer, they either think that I'm going to spend the night watching whatever show I brag about, or read, but...when I do think that's the reasons they have in mind, I realize that I underestimated them too fast by thinking of a simple and silly reason when they literally began immediately thinking of the real stuff, which is in that case, me having a partner.

So, yeah, the reason they think about when I don't join them is because of a partner. Which they think is definitely real; because of my "successful" way of hiding it.

I'm sure they already know it by now, I'm not sure of it, but at least I know that I can't really go back. They definitely know something is up and trying to hide it more won't lessen the suspicions, on the contrary.

They’ll be informed of it officially in a bit, I’m not sure when, I just want it to be special not just a; “Oh, here’s my girlfriend.”, I don’t really want it to happen this way.

I’m literally about to plan a whole meeting with her and the team, while I could just shorten it to something more simple.

I may be over dramatic over this…

I guess we have time though, I’m barely coming from a case, and I’d prefer to spend the next days with her, because if I would plan it, she doesn’t have to know at all, which means I’ll have to hide stuff, see her less, and that’s the last thing I would want to do after not seeing her for what felt weeks to me.

Again, yes, I may be a bit overdramatic;, I admit it, but even when I talk to her on the phone, text her or even buy stuff, I still want nothing more but to see her; nothing replaces the feelings I have when she’s close to me.

I do like to hear her voice even when it’s through a phone, but I prefer over everything to just have her close.

I wish it could have happened now, but we all know what returning from a case is, paperwork and all, we don’t immediately go home, as much as we all want to do it more than anything after the week we’ve had.

I’ll be in my car before I even think of it, I just have to do what I have to do, and it’ll be over, I would have said “as soon as possible”, but I doubt Hotch will accept reports done in two minutes, and upset him is the one thing no one wants to see, we’re all tired, so our patience eventually tends to be limited, which is understandable.

I thought that I would have been able to think of going home as I previously told, but I soon found myself struggling to stay away and focused on the left work on my desk. If she had happened to work with me, even if I were to be tired, I’d ignore it because I would be busy staring at her every two seconds, and eventually, lose all focus.

And even though she wasn’t with me at work, I still happened to freeze for two minutes in the same spot when I thought of her.

I just can’t wait to see her again, I really missed her a lot.

I was so distracted on the way in that I almost drove to her place before remembering she said that she would be waiting at my apartment yesterday.

She's probably gonna be either in the bathroom taking a bath, as she always prefers my bathroom. Her apartment has a shower, and as she finds it too tiring to stand sometimes, she prefers to shower at my place, and I kind of understand her and agree with her on this point.

When I come from work, I just want to lay down and stay up only if I need to, which tends to become rare once I'm in my bed, and basically nonexistent when y/n happens to lay besides me, and even if I dared to think of leaving without her, I think she wouldn't agree, we literally both can't stay away from each other, we're as magnets, in a way.

She could also be watching the same episodes of Doctor Who for god knows how many times. I would often find her still watching it at 2AM when I'd wake up at night.

I even had to pull her to bed myself, and tossed her over my shoulder once.

I don't think she's sleeping now, she's literally a ball of energy, if I take the 'still watching tv at 2am' matter. If I didn't pull her to bed, I bet she would have kept watching it.

I would normally say that she's a child, but I'm also a child myself sometimes, so I can't make fun of her, which would literally be as I made fun of me; but it's okay, we often make fun of the other, so there's so harm in doing it, as it's basically how we talk generally.

Which includes her calling me 'genius', 'smart pants', '187', and, I know it isn't the subject, but, gosh, her smile when she laughs, it's honestly one of my favorite things about her.

So, her making fun of me isn't that bad if it means that I get to see her laughing and all happy.

As I looked at the surroundings, I soon came to the realization that I happened to be close to the destination, just a block away I'd say.

If there weren't other cars around me, and people, I would have sped as I was on a highway to get there faster.

Although the ride was less than a quarter of an hour (depending on traffic, it could maximum be twenty minutes), it still somehow felt longer…if I don't count the times I had to stop to let people cross the street.

I also really blamed other people for being there at the moment as I was driving, that was a bit stupid, people weren't going to stop because I had to see my girlfriend (even if, I admit that I wouldn't have mind if they did stop, it could...be nice.), they absolutely don't care about it, as much as again, the inverse could have been cool, but absolutely unlikely to happen in this reality.

I sighed for a long minute when the familiar structures came to my field of view, logically meaning that I was really close to see her, I wish I could have sped the car, but as always, people.

I hope she doesn't mind the fact that I made her wait (and still am right now), but I'm pretty sure she won't mind, just "yell" at me about it, but nothing including hate.

As I stopped the engine in front of the building, undoing my seatbelt and stepping out of the car before locking it after my exit, I excitedly made my way to the entry of the building, almost tripping on some of the steps considering how impatient I was.

Although I was really impatient, I wouldn't have quite appreciated the fact of breaking a leg, so I obviously slowed down and paid attention a bit more.

You could really compare it as what a kid feels like on the morning of Christmas waking up to see his present, except right now, what I was truly waiting for, was to see her when I'd open the door; but she wasn’t only a gift, she was my everything, my person.

I really tend to get emotional when I talk about her, I don’t know why. I remember almost crying when I thought she hurt herself badly one day, but she only fell down a step, it was nothing bad, but I really thought she had broken something, I hope she didn’t break a bone or anything else while I was gone; she often tends to be clumsy.

After getting lost in my thoughts (for the millionth time today), I took the keys out of my pocket and softly opened the door, closing it once I entered while trying not to make a lot of noise.

It quite surprised me to see my apartment this time.

Small lights were attached to the wall, above it, small polaroid pictures taped down, some hearts, probably cut down, in coloured paper I think.

The only lights were coming from the ones attached to the wall, so the apartment wasn’t quite visible, but still, I didn’t turn the light on in case she happened to be asleep, which happened to be what I expected, as I saw a distinct figure on a couch, a blanket wrapped around it.

I sat down to her level, taking a moment to watch her for a bit before putting my hand on her head, as I gently stroked her hair.

The sight of her was so beautiful, and after being away for a week, it truly was the best thing to come home to. I could never get sick of it, that became my favorite thing to see after we met, and it’ll always stay that way, I don’t think it’ll ever change.

I could watch her for hours, and I wouldn’t even realize how much time would go by, But realizing it, I don’t know if that could be considered as psychopath behavior…

As long as there’s no bad intentions, I guess it isn’t.

Yeah, I think the lack of sleep is kicking in right now, I’m saying weird stuff. Y/N would probably say I’m crazy if she ever happened to hear me.

I also figured out that while she was asleep, I could possibly give her a little bit more sleep, while I take a shower, change myself and possibly cook some food?

Without burning it...of course.

I wouldn’t like her to eat burned food, even if she won’t really mind, she’s not a good cook either, so at least we understand each other. But still, I’d like her to eat something not burned.

I’ll just see what I can do after, I already have things to do, and if I keep thinking I still won’t have done one thing before she wakes up.

Stroking her hair one more time, I raised myself up as I glanced at her one more time, smiling as I did so. I left the room, heading to the bathroom.

I’m not going to lie to myself, but I literally spend less time in the bathroom than usual.

All of my motions were sped up and without even realizing it, it probably was mainly because I was way too impatient to get out of the room to have y/n in sight again.

I honestly never did that with anyone else before, was I scared that she would suddenly disappear or something? She was literally asleep.

Yeah, I tend to get paranoid even when she’s in the next room, with absolutely no danger in sight, I just imagine stuff that could seem a bit ridiculous if heard by someone else.

I guess that’s why I don’t talk to anyone about it, but, I don’t think anyone would take it badly, I just -again- think people are going to react badly- when it’s perfectly normal, everyone worries about their loved ones, maybe not as bad as me, but- they worry.

But now, absolutely everything is fine, I don’t have to start worrying, I’m gonna walk out of the bathroom and she’s simply going to be there, exactly where she was when I left, probably asleep...or not.

She doesn’t have a light sleep at all, it’s a task to wake her up in the morning, and I don’t think she ever woke up when I accidentally dropped utensils in the kitchen one day. I just saw her slightly moving, but when I called her name, she didn’t even wake up.

That happened to be quite surprising when I just saw her, sitting on the couch as I left the bathroom.

We looked at each other, and I just froze in place, kind of confused.

She never wakes up first, I’m the one who usually wakes her up, so, I was quite confused when I just saw her awake, about to stand up.

“I didn’t hear you coming…” Y/N said, rubbing her eyes.

“That’s literally because I did everything not to wake you up. Did the uh...water wake you up?”

“I just woke up a few minutes ago, oh and I’m sorry, I was just tired after you know, cleaning, and that…” She explained, pointing at the decorations. “I can just take them off if you don’t like them, it’s-”

“What- no! I like what you did, that’s really nice.” I quickly reassured her, making my way towards the couch. “Why would you think I wouldn’t like it?”

“I just, you don’t decorate it often, so I thought I’d do that, I...I’m not sure if you’ll be home for valentine’s day as you were away often because of work, so...I did that, so you wouldn’t feel bad or anything. Is it too much?”

“Not at all. Don’t worry, I do get why you did that. I hope you don’t feel bad, I’m kind of worried that you feel upset when I’m away, I’m not here as much as I would like to be, you didn’t expect this when we started dating, I feel bad sometimes.”

“I don’t feel bad, you’re just doing your job, and hey, even if some cases don’t end well, you get to catch the ones who did it, so they won’t hurt anyone else, so why would I get upset?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And, I know that even if you don’t say it, you’re worried for me, so don’t be. I’m completely fine, and if anything happens, you know that I’ll call you.”

“I know too, and you don’t lie on this point because you called me once when there was a spider in your shower.”

“...yeah, I did. And you laughed at me when I called.”

“That’s because I knew she wasn’t as big as you described. When I came, she didn’t even have the size of a coin, she was so small.”

“She wasn’t that small.”

“She kind of was. She wasn’t two millimeters tall, but not two centimeters.”

“I exaggerated a bit.” She admitted, slightly hitting me with her elbow when she saw a smile on my face. “It’s not funny!”

“It kind of is.”

“I swear that I’m gonna cook burned eggs for you and force you to eat them.”

“Burned eggs are like regular ones to me, neither of us know how to make them normal.”

“...true. So, in that case, what are we supposed to do right now?”

“I think we should do some pasta, it isn’t really difficult...if we follow the steps like it’s told.”

“Yeah, I just hope we won’t burn the apartment. I prefer to burn the pasta rather than set a fire.”

“Same thing.”

“Okay, let’s hope we don’t burn anything.”

“Oh, wait. I forgot.”

“What did you forget?” She asked, visibly confused.

“I forgot...that,” I said, pausing as I kissed her cheek which earned a small giggle from y/n. “And...that.” I continued, heading over to where my bag was.

"You didn't have to Spence, really."

"Yes, I had. You have to see how cute that is." I explained, walking back to her. "Look at that, it's adorable, a small pumpkin."

"Okay, it really is." She smiled, taking the small item. "It's from our favourite holiday. I miss buying pumpkins, I haven't done it since I was a kid."

"Yeah, it's been a while for me too. I wish we could do it, but I don't have much of an idea where they could be. We both live in buildings, and I doubt the landlords or the neighbors will appreciate this."

"They definitely won't. I guess we'll do it later, when we're married maybe, or…more simply, when the team will know."

"Oh, yeah...that."

"That, yeah."

"I do think they know by now."

"Probably, it's been five months, and you've been acting like nothing but a guy that's absolutely in love these past weeks."

"What can I say? I couldn't really hide it anymore."

"You could have been more discreet, you were literally surrounded by profilers, they definitely catched up."

"I should have asked you to teach me how to be clumsy. That way I would have broken a leg."

"Hey! I'm not doing it on purpose!"

"It looks like it! You almost broke your leg when you fell off a single step!"

"I'm gonna push you up the stairs one day if that's what you want."

"And how are you gonna do without me? You can't even cook."

"You can't either."

"I'll have Rossi teach me. He can basically teach anyone."

"Then why do you still suck? You visited him a lot from what you told me."

"I uh...didn't participate, I just watched."

"Then that explains it."

"I can cook! I'm gonna show you."

"Okay, I'm watching."

"Don't make fun of me!" I shouted, taking the pillow off the couch to throw it at her.

I shouldn't have done that, I literally started a war that lasted at least…twenty minutes, then we talked more, ten more minutes, then again, which led us to eat one hour later.

Eventually, we managed not to burn anything at all and ended the afternoon on the couch, talking about whatever came to mind.

"We should do something for the next few days. In case you get called, we should at least do something fun." She proposed, hesitating.

"Like what, I don't have many ideas…"

"Um well…what do we both like to do usually?"

"Let me think...coffee?"

"What about...we go on dates, except it's with coffee too."

"So, coffee dates?"

"Yeah. We could also add something to make it more...fun."

"A kind of...challenge?"

"Mhm."

"I think there’s a new place that opened recently? We could try it out."

"Maybe other ones too. Wait- I got an idea.

"Which is?"

"A mission to find the best cup of coffee in town. We both like coffee, and It’d be nice to discover what the other shops have."

"That could work, totally."

"Okay. Coffee dates and coffee missions it is."

"The title is kind of weird." I admitted

"Do you have anything else to propose?"

"Just dates, I guess."

"It's so basic." She argued.

"But it's easier though."

"Easier than telling you have a girlfriend?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Then if you bring up that, yeah, it's easier than that."

"I knew it."

"Of course you did.”

“That’s because I’m always right.”

“Always? I’m not so sure about that.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m not smart enough Reid?”

“Maybe.” I teased.

“I’m really going to kill you, I didn’t forget what I said earlier.”

“You wouldn’t dare to.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” She insisted.

“Okay, I apologize. You’re as smart as I am.”

“I prefer that answer.” Y/N approved, which sent the both of us into a fit of laughter, which seemed totally endless at first.

It lasted about five minutes before we sort of calmed ourselves to come back to a calm state. We didn’t look much at each other, as we knew it would do nothing but make us laugh again for a duration we didn’t even know.

But, even if that meant that we would laugh for a few minutes, even if that meant that we’d both complain because our stomachs would hurt, it’ll have been worth it, I wouldn’t have regretted it.

These were the moments we both knew the other appreciated to spend, we both took a liking for these, and often tend to forget about everything else.

It would just be the two of us; we’d forget about work, anxieties, just for a moment.

Work has always been a problem to me, I couldn’t see her as much as I’d like, having to interrupt an afternoon we thought would be calm to go to work, having to stay away more than I thought.

Although, even if that remains an inconvenience, it never made our relationship weaker, it stayed the way it was, from the moment we met each other.

Even back then when we barely knew anything else about each other at the library, it didn’t take us much time to get along as if we were friends for years and not one week.

We’ve always had a strong relationship, it never really changed.

Work would eventually get in the way, and it’ll be okay. We would learn to adapt, and just live with it, and it really worked out to be fine, and not as bad as I thought.

I think that I was afraid at the beginning, when we just started dating. Mostly because I thought she wouldn’t appreciate my schedule, the fact that I would be away for one week, and go back to work only after two days, I thought she’d get tired of it, and realize that it wasn’t the kind of relationship that suited her.

I really turned out to be wrong. Five months later, we’re still together, and sometimes it’s almost as if we’re not five states away from the other.

Let’s hope we’ll get to have -at least- a week, it would be nice. It’s been a while since we had more than three days without the sound of my phone meaning vacation time was over.

Plus, we get to do something we don’t usually do as often as we’d like to. We’ve already gone to coffee shops, but it’s been a month or so since; so I’m really excited about that new mission of ours.

It’s another thing to add to the list of our numerous and diverses adventures I get to spend with her.

Let me know what you thought of this fic here!

The next and last part is coming on April 2nd/3rd (just so that the tags don’t get clogged)

#cm #cm fic #cm spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid cm #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #cm fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

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yoonia · 4 years

Text

About Time // Part 19

Character: Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words | Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), Eventual Smut / 13,5k words

↳ Prompts | “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary | Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Ratings | Mature/+18 and up

↳ Warnings | this chapter contains multiple smut scenes: involving public sex, first time sex, thigh riding, explicit scene of sexual intercourse and intense foreplay (finger fucking, f receiving), mentions of cancer, (probably) inaccurate medical and law terms

↳ Author’s Note | If you find a few scenes within this chapter that seem a bit familiar, perhaps it’s because you have read it before in a different form. The final scene for this chapter was taken from a short drabble that I created during a muse game for this story, with a few adjustments on the scene itself to make it seem more fitting into the timeline. I do hope you’ll enjoy this one. I know there are lots of you who have been waiting for this moment to come :)

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Series Index: About Time | Next Chapter ⇢

Song Companion | Live - Lightning Crashes

—Present life, year 2017—

Jimin had become silent ever since the two of us left the pub. But my mind had never been so loud as it was at the moment and it had been this way since I stepped out of that place, leaving behind the memory of his altercations with Jungkook earlier.

Questions after questions kept coming while the events and pieces of the conversation they shared back at the pub continued to replay themselves inside my head.

While Jimin kept his eyes locked on the road, his posture was tense and his grip on the wheel remained hard and tight that I could see his knuckles turning white. I could even begin to faintly hear the sound of its leather cover cracking and pulling beneath his palms. Yet I kept quiet beside him, letting my mind wander as I had my eyes looking away and out the window. I had no idea what to say to him or how to react, while at the same time, I was trying to ignore the way his tension and rage kept rolling out of him in waves as he drove us further and further away from the pub.

Between being afraid that any word I said would come out with accusations, or perhaps being called crazy if I should talk to him about my predicament or to hurt him if I admitted to him why I kept being pulled to Jungkook for some reason, I decided to give him some time and space to calm down. Hoping that maybe once he did, he would be able to talk about it and I would be able to question him.

The silence thickened as each second ticked by, until a deep sigh came out of him, breaking the stillness that had grown between us.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly said to me. His voice was soft, and I could feel his remorse lathering every word he said that I could not help but to turn to look at him.

“Sorry? What for?”

He gave me a rueful smile as he glanced my way, briefly, before looking back on the road. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. I shouldn’t have let him rile me up the way he did.” He sighed. “I must have ruined the mood for tonight.”

I opened my mouth, ready to argue and try to make him feel better. But I held my tongue, knowing that the words might come out wrong and I would probably be pushing his guilt further instead of urging him to move on.

Shaking my head, I told him all that I could say at the moment. “It’s—whatever. It’s fine,” I said, even though there was a huge part of me that begged to understand. But must this night be filled with wondering and analysing things?

Did I really want to know the answers?

Did I really want to know what those words meant? The words Jungkook said which had brought out dizziness that silenced everything running through my head at the point of hearing it?

I may have said that it didn’t matter, but my mind betrayed me by voicing out the questions once again.

Why would he say something like that? Why did they seem to hate each other? Have they met before aside from the night I introduced them together? Or did they know each other before?

Thankfully, neither of those questions had ever slipped my mouth. It was close enough to, but his soft chuckled came out before I could speak and it was enough to silence the voices in my head. Especially when this time, the small smile he was giving me finally reached his eyes even if I could still see his remorse coming out clearer in them. “I promise. I’m not always like this,” he said. He took a hand off of the wheel and rubbed his palm over his face.

My chest tightened when I saw the distress on his face, and the words just came spilling right out of me before ie realised it.

“I know you’re not.”

His eyes grew wide at my words and his gaze came back to me before his smile returned a bit wider. And he was giving me the one smile that was familiar to my eyes, one that was honest and free. The same exact smile that had me falling in love with him in a different lifetime. With its presence, my heart clenched tight the same exact way it did the first time I fell for him. It felt stricken with longing and despair, while at the same time, it was making me feel warm inside.

“And how would you know that?” he asked me.

While there were lots of different answers that I could choose from, one of them being something which could reveal the secrets that I had been keeping away from him, I held my tongue once again. Keeping things to myself before I could ruin this moment.

But I didn’t hold back from reaching out. I rested my hand on his thigh as I whispered with a sigh, “Because I know you, Jimin.”

I felt his body growing tense under my touch for a brief moment, before he easily softened into my touch. So I carried on, telling him what I needed him to hear. Something that according to my memory was the one thing that I had failed to say to him.

“I know that you are not a violent person or anyone who has any vile intentions,” I told him, while images of Jimin confronting Jungkook at the pub blended together with the sight of him fighting Jungkook at a hospital, something that had come into my dreams more than once. “Anyone else would snap when confronted and riled up the same way it did to you. I’m not putting the blame on anyone but the situation, but you had handled it really well.”

His shoulders fell down with relief and I felt lighter, glad to be able to somewhat reassure him and change the mood after he was feeling down ever since we left. Before I could pull my hand away, Jimin placed his hand on mine and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Laughing a little, I squeezed his hand in return and tried to lighten the mood further. “Now, I also believe that someone had promised me a good night.”

He chuckled without looking away from the road. Though his eyes glistened with a promise and hope in them. “That I did,” he hummed softly, taking my hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss on my wrist before letting me rest my palm on his thigh once again. “I’m taking you to a place that I know you would love. At least, I hope you would.”

“I trust you. As long as I’m with you, I know I’d be happy,” I told him truthfully, knowing that it was exactly how I felt whenever I was with him.

The conversation felt lighter once Jimin had gotten everything that was bothering him out of his chest.

As he continued to drive, we talked about how the whole day went—about his day in campus and his practice, about my job interview and the day I spent with his cousin—sans the part about my meeting with Taehyung since we avoided bringing up any event regarding the pub earlier once again.

The drive felt far and long. The night was getting late, yet I didn’t mind being out so late at all when he made me feel completely safe when I was with him. This trip reminded me of the night he took me out to the city park on new year’s eve, where he took me up to the hill overlooking the city. Except that I knew the destination we were heading tonight was going to be further away from the place where he first kissed me and asked me to be his girlfriend.

It seemed like a long time ago when in fact only months had passed since then. It sure felt like I had been with Jimin for a lifetime when everything just seemed right when we were together.

I kept my hand resting on his lap as he drove on, letting him brush against it once or twice as we talked during the drive. The city passed by alongside us. We had somehow passed the main roads from the city and into the highway, and he kept on driving until the city lights became few and far in between, the buildings that had filled our view out the window were replaced by trees. Then he drove out of the highway, until we were surrounded by nothing but dirt and rock and the asphalt road slowly turned into gravel pathways with scrub bushes lining up on our sides.

“Where are we?” I asked him curiously as the terrain we were passing by turned rough, joined by a few bumps over ruts and ridges as we drove away from the main road and the path started to ascend to a higher altitude.

“Someplace quiet,” he simply said, giving me a secretive smile as the mirth in his eyes grew stronger.

I should be worried or concerned to find us driving to a strange place outside of town. But I only grew curious. The excitement came over me just as the road in front of us cleared out to an opening. The car had been driving further up until we reached to a certain plateau located right at the top of the rocky hills, way higher than the place he had once taken me to look over the cityscape. Way higher than any place that we had ever gone to. As Jimin slowed the car to a halt, I looked out to see the lines of trees and the edge of the cliff opening up to a broad sky over the horizon, the blanket of city lights covering the lower ground was nothing compared to the bright night sky above and the sparkling stars that seemed to welcome our presence.

“It’s not perfect or glorious, but I know that this is the place that you would love the most. A high place, quiet, where you could watch the wide sky above and the stars painting the sky—”

Before he could finish his sentence, I turned to him, finishing his words with a grateful smile and with my heart swelling in warmth, “—an open space where I could breathe the clean, fresh air.”

He turned to look at me. The warm gaze he was giving me spoke a thousand words. The questions were still there, hanging right at the tip of my tongue, but I brushed them away.

Enjoy the moment, I remembered Taehyung said. Enjoy the present. You will find your answers there.

“You were right. You knew exactly what I’d love.”

Jimin leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. His kiss was gentle but enough to bring forth the heat in my belly to want more. But he pulled back before I could have my fill, handing me a blanket to carry.

“Come. We haven’t seen the best part of it yet.”

My eyes grew wide. “We haven’t? You mean there’s more other than you taking me to a secluded place where you could hide me and nobody would find my body?”

Jimin’s head fell back as he laughed. “That sounds tempting, though you were right about this place being secluded,” he said, teasing me with another kiss that was gentle and chaste, letting me have a quick taste with a promise for more. “It’ll be nobody here but us.”

“I bet,” I whispered against his lips. I brushed my hands on the blanket he gave me, just as he reached for another that seemed thick enough for us to lay on top of. “Don’t tell me that we’re going to camp out.”

“Close, but not quite. I remember promising you dinner too,” he teased, giving me a wink before he reached out to the backseat, pulling a whole bag of groceries onto his lap, filled with snacks, chocolate bars, two bottles of mineral water, and best of all, microwave heated mini-market bought lunchboxes. “Our fancy dinner.”

I laughed and kissed him on his cheek. “Perfect.”

This side of the mountains would probably have been scorching hot under the sunlight if Jimin had taken me here during the daytime.

Tonight, however, the sky was clear enough to show all the bright stars overhead. The air was a bit cold and windy, but not so much that it would make me wish we were cuddled up inside his warm car instead of out here in the open air.

Jimin kept a tight hold of my hand as he led me tramping around the landed bushes, jumping over and around a few rocks that we came upon on our path, before we reached the embankment that Jimin had pointed out to when we first arrived in this place. Jimin climbed ahead and pulled me up with him. There was a flat rock on the top, wide enough for us to sit and lie down on, and safe enough to set out our small picnic without being afraid of getting too close to the edge.

This far high up, I could see the plateau over the edge, a wide flat space between hills and valleys, with sparkles of lights coming from the houses and small buildings located down there. I was filled with all nerves and anticipation, the joy of being up and above was mixed together with the fear of falling. But then I looked up at Jimin, and it made me feel all better knowing that we were here together. That he would be there by my side, ready to catch me before I could ever fall down.

We straightened the blanket on top of the flat rock and laid back, looking up at the sky above.

Being there under all of those stars made me feel small and insignificant, as if everything that I had to face and deal with, all the concerns I have had, they all meant nothing. Just a small blip in the universe. A mystery to unfold but never a necessity as we continued to exist.

As if being thrust back into the past had no significant value compared to everything else in this whole universe.

Being under the wide open space overlooking a small part of the universe really brought me to look at things in a new perspective, and suddenly, everything that Taehyung had told me finally made sense.

There was no point in dwelling in the past or the future that had been supposedly written for me or what I was trying to rewrite for myself. What mattered was now, this moment. I looked to my side to find Jimin lying on his side, looking at me. While it felt like I was the only person in the world when I looked up at the sky with all of my concerns weighing me down, looking at him made me feel less lonely. We could be the only two people in the world, and I found there was no need to change any of it all.

“You have that look again,” he mused softly, holding back a smile as he kept his eyes on me.

“What look?”

The smile broke through, and his eyes were filled with mirth when he answered, “The kind of look that tells me you are overanalysing things that are happening.”

I couldn’t help but return his smile, all while holding back from leaning in and kissing his plump lips the way I wanted to. “Do I make that look a lot?”

He merely shrugged. “Sometimes. I’d usually let you because I like seeing all the expression you make.”

There was an emotional tug happening inside my chest. I had gotten used to it at this point to know that it only happened whenever he was around. Whenever I was with him.

“Didn’t know that you’ve been pretty observant,” I could only muse as he grew closer. Our shoulders touching as he leaned in.

“It’s not hard,” he said. “All I had to do was pay attention. A lot of attention. And it’s easy to do that when I’m with you.” He licked his lips when he stopped talking, looking down on mine before meeting my gaze again. “You’re the only one I want to look at the whole time.”

Everything around us was dark, but for some reason, I could still see his face, as if the moonlight and all the stars above had served like multiple spotlights to illuminate him for me. He was probably seeing my face the same way, with limited lights helping him to find me. I could feel his warm breath before I noticed just how much closer he was.

“Will I miss if I try to kiss you right now?” he jokingly whispered to me when his lips were practically brushing against mine already.

I couldn’t help the laughter that came out so easily. “It is pretty dark around here,” I told him, whispering as I tried to reach out, finding his jaw with the tip of my fingers. The night did seem to grow darker at this point. Or perhaps it didn’t feel this way before when he weaved his way through the pathway, using only the flashlight from his phone to guide us. “Should I reach for the flashlight?”

He hummed. “There is no need,” he whispered, before pressing his lips at the tip of my nose. “I can always find you, even in the dark.” Then his lips finally found mine, and I welcomed him with a sigh as I sank down against him on top of the blanket.

His mouth felt like home. His kiss was warm, enough to help me forget about all of my concerns, all of the questions that had been circling in my head. None of them mattered anymore, when he was here, he was real, his hands moving gently up and down the curves and lines on my body over my soft sweater while he slowly pulled me to him, deepening the kiss in the process.

I was breathless when he pulled away, giving me a moment to take a deep breath and control my heartbeat. My palms had somehow found their way onto his chest, pressing down on where his heartbeat was pacing to the touch and the warmth we shared.

The wind blew across the valley, passing us both to remind us about the cool night air. So he pulled another blanket around us, covering us both from the chill autumn breeze. Only to have me grounded further later as he swiftly moved on top of me, his mouth making a trail of kisses from my lips, down to my jawline, then he slowed down as he traced the column of my throat.

His hand made its way to the hem of my sweater, tugging and pulling before he pulled it up so he could touch my bare belly beneath it. While his hand kept tracing upward, finding the elastic band of my bra, his lips continued tracing downward. He laid his head on my chest for a moment, closing his eyes as he listened to my heartbeat. He looked up to me after a moment and he kept his gaze on me when he pressed his lips on my covered breasts, capturing the covered tip between his mouth, releasing it when I sighed only to move to the other.

Weaving my fingers through the strands of his hair, I arched my back, giving him more as his hand slid in and tweaked a nipple from beneath my sweater. In a flashing moment, my sweater was gone, and nothing was getting in the way for him to finally taste my skin. I cried out as his fingers and his mouth worked together, pinching and biting, tuning my whole body as if he knew just which buttons to touch, to play with, to tweak, just to thrust me into the peak of my pleasure.

It didn’t take long before he brought me there, surges of bliss rushing all over my body, centered right at my core where the pulse felt the strongest, where the heat of my body pooled together into a puddle.

His eyes found me again when he brushed away the lacy front of my bra, pushing it down so he could reach more skin. My body was moving against his, my hips rolling in circles in the same rhythm as the pulse that kept rising between my legs. With my legs spread, I pressed my center against his thigh, searching for release by brushing myself against him and I could feel his muscles tensing against me as he pressed himself back to me for a short moment before he continued to move down. My fingers had somehow found their way back through his hair, where I clutched him tight, keeping him close to me at all times even as he was crawling down on me.

His lips spoke of promises and sin, and he revels in the sounds I was making to every bit of ministration he was giving me.

I felt it through his warm breath that came trailing down my skin as he continued climbing lower, his grunts coming out softly with each kiss he gave on my skin. His fingers kept dancing down my curves, as if he wanted to engrave every inch of my skin into his mind, even all the goosebumps that came out from the mixture of his warmth and the cold air around us.

He kissed his way down along my hip bone, his hands were getting busy to unbutton my jeans, freeing me further from any restraints. I lifted my hips when he tugged the waistband lower, only so that he could push my pants away. He swiftly moved his hand between my legs, delving into my panties, until he finally found the source of my pulsing heat.

His fingers danced their way down teasingly at my mound, before he found the cleft and gently spread them open for him, letting him touch me where I needed him the most. His fingers moved around the bundle of nerves hiding between my folds, circling around it until I could hear the slickness of my arousal as he gathered every drop with the tip of his fingers. Each gentle brush he gave sent fireworks through my body, the pleasure kept on rising more and more.

I cried out when he pushed a finger against the slick opening. His thumb pressing down on my throbbing clit as he inched deeper, pushing slowly through the pulsing walls. I barely felt him pushing my jeans and panties lower, exposing me to him. Then his soft tongue licked down between my folds, tasting my essence just as he continued to work his fingers inside my walls to make me release more.

“Jimin!” I called out when he took my swelling clit between his mouth, doing it so before I felt a hint of pressure when he added a finger into my pussy, pushing in and pumping softly. He stopped when he found restraint, pulling back only to push back and reach further inside, letting my walls clench tight around his digits.

“Relax for me, baby,” he grunts against my hot cunt, placing his free hand on my belly to push my hips back down when I had been pushing myself up against his mouth, tensing my muscles at the same time.

Opening my eyes to look down, I found him looking at me with a heated gaze. Hunger and lust were mixed together with the kind of look which had my heart turning warm. I released a deep exhale and let my body relax beneath him.

“Good girl,” he whispered to me, before he came back down, planting his mouth right between my legs again and expertly finding my clit for him to devour. “Now, don’t hold back on me, love. Let go and let me taste you.”

With that, his mouth came back to my nether lips, another finger came to join the others as he worked them in and out of my pussy, sending my legs trembling around his head, my fingers tightening on his hair to hold him down. My hips moved in circles, swivelling and dancing with the same rhythm he made on me to chase the surge of pleasure that continued to rise.

He kissed, licked, bit, all the while pumping his digits continuously against the sweet spot right through the hot entrance of my cunt, and I was instantly thrust into the edge. My climax came to me like a wave of warmth slowly building from my center and flowing around my body. Enveloping me with pure pleasure that had me screaming out into the wind.

A whisper of the cold breeze came upon me just as I shuddered into his mouth, an instant reminder of where we were.

I opened my eyes just as I had his fingers locked tight inside me, my pussy clenching him tight, his mouth locking tight around my clit. As I saw the ocean of stars above our heads, a surreal moment came upon me. It felt like I was flying high, drunk in pleasure and bliss with the stars around us and the moonlight lighting us both.

The sinful thought of him pleasuring me under the wide sky above and of being exposed to the universe pushed me back into another climax, thrusting me off the precipice of my orgasm that I couldn’t even cry out for it being too much for me to handle.

With a gasping sound, I embraced the pure pleasure. Letting myself to be brought up high with his touch, feeling free and elated at the same time as my orgasm came to me in smooth spasms, humming through my body, giving me the most beautiful feeling I have ever felt in the world.

Once the spasms of my release waned down to a shiver, Jimin gathered me in his arms. His touches soothed me as he gently tugged my jeans back in place. He pressed his kisses on my skin as he pulled my sweater back down, covering me from the cold.

“Should I get you warm? Or should I take you home?” he whispered, his lips brushing on my temple before he looked down at me, his eyes glinting with his desire. The haze in my head dissipated under the one word that had me clutching his shirt tight, anchoring him to me to let me know that I was not dreaming.

Home.

Glimpses of my dreams came back to me just then, and once again, I was swamped by a flood of warmth. Hope and love filled my heart, and the answer was clear.

“Take me home.”

—Present life. Jimin’s Apartment, year 2017—

His studio apartment had always felt warm and cozy.

But this night, it felt different. The good kind of different. No matter how often I had spent my time here, sleeping here almost every night instead of back in my dorm, it never truly felt like home unless he was there with me, holding me tight to him. Because he was my home. And though this place was every bit of his, I would still need him as my anchor.

Over the past few months, I had been leaving my things behind, marking my territory in his apartment. Tonight, as we entered his home with his arms wrapped around me, his kisses distracting me from looking around us, I found that the air was filled with the scent of my perfume. It washed over me so suddenly that I broke away from the kiss only to glance around, making sure that we were actually in the right place.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered huskily as he caught my jawline with his mouth simply because he couldn’t stay away.

“Nothing,” I whispered in return, pressing my palms on his chest as I looked around for a few more seconds, sighing dreamily as I caught the sight of the foot of his bed on the far corner before finally letting myself melt into him. “I just—”

I looked up to him, catching his eyes looking down at me with wonders in them. “Your room smells like me.”

Jimin chuckled. “It does. And I love it,” he whispered, giving me a soft peck on the lips before he sheepishly confessed, “Sometimes, when you’re not sleeping here, I’d spray a bit of your perfume into my pillows so it would feel like you were there. I let your perfume sticks around more than mine because I want to feel your presence here.”

I gave him a dubious look. “Oh, Jimin,” I laughed. “That sounds a tad bit creepy yet also endearing I don’t even know how to feel.”

He laughed with me, his head falling back when he did. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

I placed a palm on his cheek, urging him to look at me again before I could kiss his cheek. “I actually like the fact that I’ve marked your place not only with my things but with everything else too.”

He caught my lips in his for a brief moment. “You’re welcome to do more than marking,” he said, suddenly looking a bit hesitant to continue.

“Really?” I asked him, teasingly feigning innocence to him. “Is this your way of asking me to move in with you?”

His lips twitched but he held back his smile. “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

His grin slowly came back, even if his eyes kept glancing away with uncertainty before he finally spoke. “Move in with me.”

I felt my eyes sting. There was something about all of this that made me want to cry. Like there was something inside me that was slowly coming together. Which was why the answer came out easily. “I’d love to. My home is with you, Jimin.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, his gentle smile came back onto his face and I couldn’t stop myself from brushing my lips over his. The quick peck on his lips turned into a hungry kiss when he pressed me tightly against him and kissed me back. I felt his chest rumbling with a deep grunt just as my knees started to turn into jelly. What held me up were his arms around me, keeping me pressed to him before I could even attach my arms around him.

“Take me to bed, Jimin,” I said, breaking the kiss with a sigh.

When I pulled back to pull him into his bedroom, he groaned and refused to let me go. With his arms tightening around my waist, he carried me up, making me kick off my shoes and wrap my legs around his waist as he began to take me into the bedroom, hastily kissing my lips on the way there.

Jimin was almost breathless when he laid me down onto the bed, then climbed up to follow me after kicking his own shoes off. He didn’t wait long before capturing my lips on his again, pinning me right at the center of his bed as if he was afraid I would run away.

“Are you tired?” he asks me softly as he nipped on my jawline, giving me a moment to breathe.

“Kinda. Why?”

He sighed. “I just—you are so irresistible.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Who? Me?”

Instead of answering me, he lowered his head, kissing the side of my neck and I felt all the goosebumps forming on my skin. It was almost the same as they did when he touched me under the clear night sky. Except that it was no longer windy and I was still terribly sensitive to every touch he gave me. “I want to make love to you so bad,” he whispered, not bothering to wait until I responded when he bit down playfully on the exposed skin right above the neckline of my sweater.

He splayed his hand on my stomach, the warmth of his touch seeping through my sweater. Then his hand slipped under the hem, stroking my bare skin, sending tremors through me as he reminded me of how he touched me before.

“You already gave me so much pleasure and made me cum under the stars,” I said to him, my voice shaking and breathless as I arched against his palm.

“I certainly did—” he said, giving me a lazy grin. There was a hint of pride glowing in his eyes, no doubt reminiscing on how he brought me up to bliss right at the top of the hills, where only he and I existed.

Already, my body grew hot with need, calling him to touch me again. His delicate fingers tracing along my belly and up to my breasts felt good, but it was nothing compared to when he slid his fingers down, drifting lower until he could slide under the waistband of my jeans and under my panties so effortlessly as if he already knew every curve and every ridge of my body to find his way.

Jimin pressed his lips at my ear, nibbling gently as he pressed his fingers into my folds, spreading me open. My breath became a rush of short pants as I rocked into his touch and he began stroking me, giving me long, firm thrusts that sent electric shocks up my spine and liquified my bones almost instantly. My hips rolled against his hand and the pleasure peaked incredibly fast, as I was still too sensitive after the intense pleasure he gave me tonight, after what we had shared back on the rocks, after what he made me feel. My panties were still wet, and it was about to get even more drenched as he kept touching me with all the right ways he knew just exactly how to.

“Oh god—” I moaned while my body kept moving on its own accord, seeking release to the mounting pleasure rising inside me. “Jimin, please—”

“So sweet. You always look so pretty when you cum. When you release your climax on my fingers or my tongue,” he murmured while scraping his teeth on my skin, tasting me. “I want you so bad, _____.”

He pushed his fingers inside, pressing his thumb on my clit, and I gasped and shuddered as white pleasure came shooting through me. It came in waves, much softer than the one he gave me before, but it was still enough to send my body quaking in his arms. As I came down, I found myself lying on my back. Jimin was hovering on top of me, licking his fingers clean with a few soft moans rumbling from deep within his throat. Each sound he made rocked something inside me that I felt the urge to touch him.

So I pulled him down on me, kissing his lips hungrily before muttering softly. “Take me, Jimin.”

I kissed him again before he could say a thing, relishing on the taste of his mouth on mine. He had been giving me so much pleasure that I wanted to give it all back to him, to get him naked and vulnerable the same way he did to me on the rocks, or any other times I was with him. The idea of touching him until he would be lost in his pleasure sent shivers down my body. I remembered the beautiful look on his face that he would make when he embraced his pleasure, the wonder in his eyes and the smile that it brought him, and I wanted to see it all again.

Then he suddenly pulled back, his eyes lost in wonders already as he took me in silently. His eyes looking so dark and deep that I felt him embracing me with his gaze.

“What are you thinking?” My voice was hoarse, already deeply affected by him.

“I’m thinking—” he whispered, licking his lips as he ran his gaze down on me one last time before meeting my eyes again. “—that I’m going to take off your clothes, piece by piece.” He reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear, something that I had found to be the small gesture that he loved to do when he touched me, then trailed his fingers down my neck, feeling my pulse pacing beneath his fingertips.

“I’ll kiss you everywhere, taste every inch of your bare skin. And then I’m going to sink inside you so deep you will remember me being a part of you.” His palm rested on my cheek and he leaned in. His eyes were hooded when he looked at me, letting me see the clear desire burning in them when he whispered huskily, “And then, when you come, I’ll make you feel so good that the only thing coming out of your lips would be my name. In fact, I’ll make sure that everyone will hear you when you call my name as I make you come.”

“Jimin—”

My heart raced inside my chest. My whole body was throbbing with excitement, but there was a bit of fear between them as well. I have waited for this moment for a long time, yet the fear of making all the same mistakes, the fear of losing him, everything had always come together to send me to the borders of pain that were so intense that I had always kept holding back.

And now, as he kept telling me everything he wanted to do to me, all the sinful things he wanted to show me as he showed me what he truly felt for me, I knew then that I needed him more than ever.

Jimin lowered his mouth to my exposed neck when I couldn’t find the will to speak, sucking on my pulse, pulling me back to the present while chasing away all of my fears. I knew that I loved him. I always had. And every kiss that he gave me reminded me of that feeling, while he showed me just how much I could trust him. With every kiss he gave me, I slowly began to relax, relishing on the gentle current of pleasure that was beginning to grow stronger inside me I could no longer feel anything but.

His hands dropped to the hem of my sweater and skimmed up to my ribs. As promised, despite the filthy thoughts he placed into my head, he was gentle. Moving so slowly while never looking away, keeping his gaze on my face, on my eyes, as he continued to read through my expression to see if he was crossing the line that I was not ready to go over. That was when I knew that he would always take care of me, just like every single time we were together.

Through my memories, I knew that he had always put me first above all else. The days that I had spent with him had always shown me that he was still the same, so I trusted him for putting me first tonight as he reached up, caressing my breasts through the flimsy fabric of my bra.

His gentle touch played with my mounds until I felt a tight ache forming right at both tips, while at the same time, his kisses traced my pulse along my neck, sending heat pooling between my legs.

“I love touching you like this,” he whispered, making me moan as he slipped my bra down and his hands were on my bare breasts, stealing my breath as he pinched the nipples one at a time. With his touch, the electric currents I felt instantly picked up, rising from my breasts and down to my core.

Then he started peeling my clothes off—my sweater, my bra, making good of his words while kissing every inch of skin that was exposed to his eyes. His lips were soft against my skin when he returned after tossing my clothes away, making me sigh at the connection as he kept climbing down to my chest. But as he licked at the tip of my breast, taking a nipple into his mouth to suck, I arched into his mouth, wanting him to take more.

His hands traced down as he continued to nibble on my sensitive bud and tugged at my jeans. Through my hazy mind, I felt him pulling them off and down my legs, together with my panties, until I was finally completely bare beneath him.

He bent over me, kissing his way down, brushing his lips over my belly, lightly tracing his hot kisses until he reached to my thighs.

“Jimin—I need to touch you,” I whispered, reaching out to his shoulders to let him know just how much I needed to feel his body on mine.

He looked up to me with hooded eyes and a lazy grin. He pushed himself up and began to drag his shirt off, revealing his bare chest to me. He stepped back and climbed off of the bed so he could slide his jeans down his hips together with his briefs, and I immediately lost my train of thoughts. His cock jumped up, bumping against his belly when he straightened himself up. The sight of his length bare and twitching made my core throb. I knew he could see what he did to me when his grin returned and he stroke himself for me.

Jimin opened his eyes to the sound of my soft moan, locking his gaze on mine, giving me his devastating half-smile when he saw me reacting to the sight of him touching himself. He reached over to grab a condom from his pocket, deftly tearing the foil open and swiftly slipping it on before coming back to me.

He leaned over me, stretching his body over mine, and my mind went blank for a moment before I blinked and realised that it was truly happening. His arousal that was pressing hot against my belly became proof that this was real. That he was real.

“You have no idea how beautiful you look, lying naked under me,” he softly whispered, brushing his mouth over my cheek, my jaw, then coming back onto my lips. “Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I want you, Jimin. I want this,” I practically begged him, whining when he pulled back and his lips left my skin.

I’ve wanted this for so long. The words rang inside my head, but I bit my lips to stop myself from saying it out loud. But he must have seen something in my eyes that was telling him just how much I meant every word I said, because I felt it when he finally let go every bit of his inhibitions, and something else grew in his gaze.

Looking deep into my eyes, Jimin made me a promise that had me almost crying. “I’ll be careful. And do things gently so I won’t hurt you.”

Blinking the tears away, I reached out to cup his face. “I’m not made of glass, Jimin.”

He smiled, looking both sad and relieved when he sighed and whispered, “I know you’re not.”

Jimin kissed me again, taking it slowly and gently this time. Then he was pressing into me, his hand reaching between us to guide himself at the center of my heat. He kept whispering my name as he slowly pushed in, spreading me apart as he slid deeper, stopping briefly to kiss my lips to distract me right before he suddenly gave a little push, filling me up entirely with his girth. It was shocking and painful and amazing at the same time that I couldn’t even make a sound. The only thing that came out of my lips was a breathless cry, and my body arched towards him instead of moving away. Soothing me from the shock, Jimin began kissing my neck, my breasts, my mouth, until I finally began to relax and the pain began to fade. I felt full and hyperaware of his existence inside. The thought of our bodies joining together made me clench around him tightly. As if my body wanted to keep him there.

“How are you doing?” he asked me, his voice sounded strained as he held very still on top of me, afraid to move and to hurt me by moving too soon.

But I was no longer hurting.

As the pulsing pain began to form into something else entirely new, something else that felt wonderful, I gave him a reassuring smile to stop him from worrying. “I’m okay. You can continue now.”

My answer made him chuckle, then he exhaled softly before beginning to shift. His hands were pressing onto the bed, then one moved to my hips to hold me as he began pulling out, pushing back inside, moving steadily slow at first before the muscles inside my walls allowed him to move more easily.

“You feel so good, ______. So fucking good around me,” he grunted, and his pace began to pick up.

With each drag of his hardness inside me, the pleasure mounted gradually. A throbbing, maddening pulse began to rise from the depth of my core, rising along with the pressure coiling around my middle, sending me breathless, my brain was muddled as it was thrust into a certain height of bliss.

As my body adjusted and I was slowly getting used to the rising rush of pleasure, my hips were lifted against him and I clutched at his back, drawing him deeper inside.

“Fucking hell, _______,” he cursed as I clenched, gritting his teeth before he increased his pace, pumping his cock in and out of me more frantically until my head spin and his body grew tight against me.

He was close, I could feel it. Just as I was coming close to my own end.

Kissing me again, Jimin tried to make it last by kissing my nipples, my neck, taking my mouth again to swallow the moans that I didn’t even realise I was making. I must have been calling for his name in the midst of crying in pleasure because I could feel him smiling into the kiss.

“You drive me fucking crazy, _____,” he whispered against my mouth while continuing to work on his hips, pounding gently into me even though his pace had grown more rapidly than it did before. “I don’t know how long I could last. You’re so tight around me.”

“I—I think I’m close. Come together with me, Jimin.”

He thrust his cock inside me again and again, every time he came back it felt better than the last when the tip of his shaft pushed through my walls until he reached so deep, right the hilt. Jimin let out a moan and rolled his hips while I continued to move mine, chasing him and chasing our release together.

He rocked inside me, going as deep as he could reach until I cried out his name. I clenched tight around his cock and he pounded straight into me, hitting all the right spots, sending me jolts of pleasure with each thrust which then became my undoing.

Sparks came shooting up from my core just as he began twitching between my clenching walls. The feeling of him quaking inside me set me on fire. The flame of my pleasure burning me deep inside before I finally plunged over the edge. My orgasm must have triggered his own to come, as the moment I cried out his name with each intense pulse of my climax, he erupted inside me and into the condom with a deep groan, a soft whimper following behind as the spasms of his release rocked him to the core.

It took a while until the waves of my climax began to come down into smaller spasms. It took his soft touches and his gentle kisses to bring me back, to help me open my eyes until I saw him. Somehow, I must have blacked out. Because he was already lying on my side, his heartbeat still rapid as I rested my head on his chest, while my own body was still humming with the remnants of my climax.

“Are you okay, baby?”

I closed my eyes, refusing to let my tear drop when the first thing he did after our first lovemaking was to make sure that I was doing alright. Sighing contently, I looked up to his face and gave him a smile.

“That was amazing,” I whispered to him, pressing my lips on his bare chest while pressing my body tightly against him, just so I could feel his warmth around me.

I felt his lips brushing against my temple. “I didn’t hurt you?” he asked me as he tilted my chin up, making me return his gaze.

“No, it felt so good.” I swallowed deeply, making sure that my voice would stay steady when I said the words that had been hanging right at the tip of my tongue ever since the moment he claimed me. “I love you, Jimin.”

He sighed deeply. “I love you too, _____,” he whispered. Then he kissed my lips, gently, before finally letting me go once he realised just how exhausted I was. “Go to sleep, _____. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised me, kissing my face as he bid me goodnight and started pulling the blanket to cover our bodies, still naked and entangled on his massive bed.

With my body growing lax, the exhaustion engulfed me like a tidal wave and I began to slip away into slumber with his arms around me. Too tired to even say goodnight to him, I kissed his palm when he ran his fingers through my hair. The last thing I felt was his lips pressing gently on the top of my head. I barely heard his voice, already falling into my dreamless sleep when he faintly whispered to me—

“I’ve waited for you and for this moment for a long time.”

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

“Are you sure you will be okay with this?”

I tilted my head as I waited for his answer. Jimin merely gave me a meek smile, his eyes were drooping lazily as he returned my gaze. Funny how the situation had turned around. When only a few weeks ago, he was the one who first came into my room, asking for my permission to join me in my bed. Tonight, I was the one waiting for him to invite me in, while he was the one who needed the companion.

“I’m sure,” he whispered softly with his voice sounding low and hoarse, as if he needed everything in him just to get those words out of his lips. “In fact, I’m sure you will only make it better,” he chuckled lightly as he patted the side of the bed.

I looked away, following his dainty hand, thin and sickly pale that it almost matched the colour of his linen sheets. The sight nearly broke me down that I had to close my eyes before I could look into his eyes again. Just as our gazes met, he must have seen the hesitance building up inside me, because he slowly began to shift on the bed and scoot backwards, leaving a small space beside him just enough for me to squeeze in.

His movement was careful, doing his best to shift around under the restraint of the infusion tubes attached to his arm. Settling on his side as he waited for me to climb on top of the bed, I could hear him breathing heavily, letting me know just how much that subtle move had already drained enough of his energy.

“Come here,” he said, patting the empty side of the bed once again to beckon me close. “Don’t worry, they change the sheets every time they have a chance to.”

I gave him a light scoff, chuckling softly on his effort to make a light joke. As if I had to be reminded of the hospital’s routines when I had to endure and witness all the same thing as well. Jimin’s eyes kept forcing themselves to close, yet he was persistent, holding back from dozing off just to make sure he would see me come to bed with him. So I gave in. With a sigh, I set up the IV stand that I had dragged along with me all the way from my room to be next to his bed, before I crawled on top of it. It was a struggle to climb up, as I had to maneuver everything from locking my wheelchair in place, to pushing myself up and onto the bed. My flimsy pyjamas kept getting in the way while my stiff back made it hard for me to move easily. I was glad to have taken enough painkillers to numb down the pain, even if it was just a tad, or else I wouldn’t even be able to move at all with how strained my spine had become for the past few weeks.

“Be careful,” Jimin whispered when I let out a hiss the moment I pulled my legs up. I responded only with a smile and a soft murmur of, “I’m okay,” as I held back the pain and settled down beside him, trying not to make him too worried about me when he already had too much to deal with in his current condition. It took me a while, with careful shifts and turns, before I finally managed to lie down next to him.

As we laid on our sides, facing each other with our hands entangled together, I let myself get lost in his eyes while he kept his gaze locked on me. For a moment, everything else around us seemed to disappear, just like how it always had been whenever we held on to each other like this. Every painful moment of our battles against our demons, the illness that was eating up our souls from within, seemed so far away. His painful treatments and therapies, the forthcoming life-threatening surgery I was set to deal with within the next few weeks, all seemed irrelevant.

All the fright and pain seemed insignificant compared to his warmth and comforting touch, but I still held his hand tightly in mine, afraid that he may disappear once I let go.

Being in this hospital for a long time, everything around us had become redundant. We had somehow gotten used to the scents, the mixture of antiseptics and drugs, all the voices coming from the hallways even as we were asleep at night, and the chill temperature in our rooms that had always felt like ice picking into our skin. Even the pain that we both had to endure became a part of us, expected but never welcomed, as if they would always be there, the eerie reminders of why the both of us had ended up in this place together.

Yet everything became bearable because of Jimin. Because we had each other.

By now, the nurses and doctors no longer found it odd to find us sleeping side by side at night. A few requests had even been made to have us being roomed together to make it easier for us to be with each other, since the night trips down the hallways to each other’s rooms had started to become obstacles that were getting in the way of our recovery.

But every trip, even with its pain and exhaustion, had been worth it. Our nights together had kept us strong. They gave us both hope, something to look forward to.

Even when the days like this one would come, when either one of us would be taken away for our special ’treatments’ and ‘test runs’, before we were returned into our rooms only half of what we were before we had left.

“How was it?” I bit my lip the moment I realised that I was questioning him the one thing I knew he would be most reluctant to talk about. I knew how hard the day had been for him, because I had been there too. Despite my worries, I wasn’t sure if making him relive everything that he had gone through today would be a good idea, but sometimes talking about it helped, which was why it came almost instinctively for me to let him talk about it.

When his gaze was shadowed with disdain, I instantly regretted for even asking. Yet, he quickly smiled, chuckling lightly with his eyes closed before he answered, “It was marvellous. Astounding, joyful, completely relaxing. My whole body feels light, just like air, and now I am as strong as ever.”

The last words he said was accompanied by a bitter chuckle. When he opened his eyes again, they were glowing with unshed tears, and my chest tightened.

“It was that bad, huh?” I could feel my throat tightening, my voice cracked as I held back my tears. I hated what his treatments would do to him. Nobody should wake up early in the morning only to face an entire day of painful procedures. The only reprieve I could have about him getting through them was knowing that these procedures were the ones keeping him alive, giving him more time to fight as they tried their best to find the exact cure to free Jimin from his demons.

“I survived. There is nothing more fun than having people pricking and poking on your skin, and needles being jabbed through your tailbones,” he stopped, his lips twitching as he grimaced in defeat, as if he could still feel everything happening as he was talking about it. “At least I didn’t have to see it when they drew the blood from my be—”

I stopped him from finishing the sentence by pushing myself forward and landing a kiss on his lips. It startled him at first, before he sighed and returned them. Our dry lips meshed together into one in a delicate manner, too afraid to add any more pressure as either of us refused to hurt the other, even if we were desperate for one another.

His smile was present when I pulled back. His gaze softened as he opened his eyes, the pain and anger he felt almost gone when he looked at me. I didn’t move too far away, staying close with my hands on his chest just to feel our bond.

“I’m sorry for asking,” I told him, lowering my eyes to avoid his gaze. The next thing I felt was his chapped lips pressing on my forehead.

“It’s okay. A kiss can always make it better,” he said to me with a grin. My shoulders started to fall with relief, my fingers tracing the collar line of his pyjama top absentmindedly until I grazed his skin, and felt his prominent collarbone under the tip of my fingers.

“Don’t—” he hissed, surprising me enough that I started to pull my hand away with guilt. Except that he caught my hand before I could and kept it there. As I looked up into his eyes, I knew that he was not talking about how he didn’t want me to touch him. I didn’t understand it until he reached out to me, brushing the tear that I didn’t realise have made its presence on my face.

A sob finally escaped me, while he gave me a sad smile as he kissed my knuckles.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t feel sad for me.”

“I’m not—” I sobbed, clutching his hand that was holding mine so desperately. “It’s not that. It’s—”

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at mine, which he later kissed to make my frown go away. I relaxed against him when he kept his lips pressing there, giving me a chance to find my voice again before I could continue to speak. “I feel sorry for both of us.”

Jimin pulled me closer and let me rest my head on his shoulder. He did everything ever so gently, knowing that he would risk pulling the infusion tube that was attached to my forearm if he had tugged me too hastily.

“It will be over soon,” he whispered. I could feel his lips pressing on my thinning hair, his breath falling on my temple. He still had his hand holding mine in one, as the other was rubbing my back. The pyjama top I was wearing suddenly felt too thick on my skin. His touches felt too delicate that they were barely there.

“Soon, there will be no more of these cables, tubes, needles. No more nurses and doctors poking our bodies or running those tests on us. No more nauseating drugs and stale hospital meals. And there will be music around us instead of the sounds of the steady heart monitors we keep hearing from down the halls,” he kept whispering to me in a soothing voice. His body, his touch, his kisses, and his words started to replace the cold temperature in the room as I relaxed further in his hold.

“Soon, we will be sleeping in our comfy bed, in our own bedroom instead of these suffocating hospital rooms. And we will be able to walk and run freely with our heads held high without having to lean on the walls or being pushed on wheelchairs wherever we want to go. Soon, we will be walking out of here, our bodies strong enough, our face less pale, and our hair thickens. And I will be holding your hand as we do so.”

I kept my eyes close as I listened to him, picturing everything in my head until they all felt real. “That does sound nice. Every single one of it,” I told him with a sigh, pressing my cheeks on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. “Where should we go first after we leave here?”

“Hmmm—” his voice was soft with the familiar hum which I loved when he thought about it for a moment. “First, I will take you out on a date. I will make up for all the dates I had promised you and missed. The list is already so long, so I know we won’t be done with each and one of them in one day.”

“Obviously,” I chuckled.

“We can start light. I can take you to a fancy coffee shop. We will find the hippest one in the city, the one that youngsters love to hang out in. Because I know how much you love your panini.”

“Um,” I moan playfully, earning a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. “Yes, I do.”

“And then we could go to the movies. No horror movies, just some of those drama flicks you like most. And then we’ll go shopping, and we could go sightseeing in the city—” he continued. I could clearly see his eyes glazing when I looked up to him, lost in wonder, and it was much better than the usual painful look they usually emitted at the end of his treatments. So I said nothing, opting to listen to his words instead and joined him in imagining us going through every part of his plan.

In our minds, we were healthy. With no restrictions in our bodies to hold us back from walking and running, and laughing together while we were at it, as we were enjoying our lives together just the way we had planned them to.

“What if we run out of places to visit just in the city alone?” I asked him. “Pretty sure we would be bored with going to the malls and the zoos after a while. I’m okay with sitting in the park during our free time and the frequent trips to the coffee shop, but what then?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, closing his eyes. The wondrous look in his gaze returned when he opened them a little bit later. “I really want to take you to other places, of course. I would love to take you for a whole weekend down the beach.”

“The beach?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Wouldn’t it be nice? I mean, I love going to the mountains and all, but the beach would be a really good idea after we spend weeks inside these walls without the sun falling on our skin, don’t you think?”

“The warm sun does sound more lovely compared to this,” I answered him while snuggling closer, searching for the warmth that I could barely acquire from my pyjamas and the hospital’s blanket alone. Jimin tightened his arm around me, either knowing that I needed it and also needing to warm himself at the same time.

“We can stroll down the beach, the white sand slipping between our toes. I would chase you down as we run with the waves, probably dunk you into the water once I catch you,” he said, chuckling when I swatted his chest.

“You know I hate wearing wet clothes,” I protested with a pout, making him laugh.

“Who said we’ll be wearing full clothes on?”

I looked up at him with a frown. “What are we wearing then?”

Licking his lips, he looked down to stare at mine. “We’ll be in swimming suits, of course. You’ll be wearing the bikini you once showed me, the yellow pair you wore in your photos from college, and I’d wear a trunk that is just as revealing as yours.”

I started picturing us in the same way he described it. Before I could even stop it, I felt my smile fading, as my own insecurities blanketed me.

“What? What’s wrong?” he lifted my chin gently so that I was staring straight into his eyes. And I realised then that I was mirroring his frown. Although when his face was showing curiosity, mine was giving him something else.

“Nothing,” I whispered.

He shook his head. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I just—” I could only sigh, hating the feeling I was having, dreading the lump that was stuck in my throat. His imagination and his dream were all beautiful. But I was not. “Look at me. I look ugly. I can’t imagine myself wearing those outfits again, revealing myself to you like that. Everything about me has changed so much since I got sick. I could never return to how I was before—”

“Stop saying that. You are beautiful,” Jimin scolded me, stopping me by pressing his thumb on my quivering lips. His eyes were dark, but his voice was soft. And it only got even softer when he spoke, “I don’t care if you will look different, if the bikini won’t fit you anymore. You are beautiful.”

I lost every word that I was going to say, not having a chance to answer him when he leaned in to kiss me, drowning my thoughts and insecurities and replacing them with comfort as he pressed his lips on mine. He never stopped until I stopped crying, until I returned the kiss with my own and stopped with a content sigh. He pulled away with a gentle smile on his face, looking at me just as I mirrored his smile. The terrible, painful thoughts no longer bothered me as much as they did. Not when he was looking at me the way he did. Like I was something special.

But then I began chastising myself for being so vulnerable. This had been such a tough day for Jimin, and I was supposed to be the one comforting him by coming here. Not the other way around. Again, as if he could read my thoughts, he pulled me back to him by tilting my chin up and forcing me to look at him instead of avoiding his eyes and getting too lost in my head.

“Do you want to know what I think about when I picture myself taking you to the beach?” he asked me all so suddenly, and I nodded.

“I do want to know. What do you have in mind?”

Jimin’s lips curled into a sly grin. His glazed eyes filled with mirth as he held my hands, pressing them on his chest when he spoke,

“I want to lay you down on the sand when night comes, hold you close to my chest as we look up at the stars in the sky, the sound of waves running in the background would be the perfect music for our night together. And then I will kiss your lips—” he stopped, leaning down to give me a chaste kiss right on the corner of my lips, “—and your nose.” I laughed softly when he kissed the tip of my nose, teasingly pressing his kiss a bit longer before pulling away so he could continue.

“I will continue kissing you, down to your chin and then to your neck. I will probably lick your collarbones, finding the sensitive parts where they tickle,” he said, grinning wide when I laughed.

“You know which spots they are,” I told him, earning his wide smile in return.

“I do know,” he said. “And I will kiss them all, before I continue lower.”

I raised my eyebrows, curious to listen to his plans even more. “How much lower?”

Jimin bit his lips. His eyes slowly turned away from my face and he looked down between us.

“I will start from your breasts, although I might have to take your top off first,” he said, keeping his eyes on my chest.

A gasp came out of me and I instantly pulled my hands away from him, crossing them over my chest and looked away when my face felt hot. “But—they no longer look the way they used to, and—”

“And perfect for my small, skinny hands,” he cut me off while prying my hands away and held them close to his chest again. He lifted my face with his finger on my chin and said, “They are the softest thing in the world, ____. And I love to admire them. To touch them, to kiss them.”

And he kissed me. Right on my lips, before I ever got a chance to respond. “I remember you being sensitive there,” he whispered, keeping his forehead pressed on mine while his hand brushed gently on my covered breasts from over my pyjama top.

“I’m sensitive everywhere. Whenever you touch me,” I whispered. My heartbeat started racing as I felt his palm kneading my breast softly, moving carefully so he wouldn’t hurt me. His touch made me shudder, and I almost failed to process his words before he moved his hand to my back, pulling me closer to him, while his other hand stayed behind, pinching gently on my hardened nipple until I gasped against his lips. I could barely question how or why this conversation had suddenly led to this, and I could only guess where he was leading this to. I knew because his eyes were telling me all of his intentions as they looked at me with darkness behind their sleepy glow.

“So would you let me touch you then? Without anything getting in the way, I mean. Would you let me kiss you there?” he asked, practically begging me softly with an adorable look on his face that I just had no choice but to nod. Smiling to me to show how my response had pleased him, he leaned in, tracing my jawline with his kisses while he whispered, “I will take my time, taking one peak and lick it, bite you tenderly until I feel the tip of your breast hardening in my lips. And then I will do the same to the other—”

“Jimin—” I gasped. And my body suddenly started heating up all over, from my chest and down to my core. He pressed his lips on my neck, right where I pulsed for him, and I almost came right away just from listening to his words and feeling his gentle kiss alone.

“Are you going to push me away?” he asked me, nipping at the tender skin on my neck when he felt me shuddering against him.

“N-no—” I shifted on the bed, moving my legs and started pressing them together to tone down the intense pulse rising inside my core.

“Good, because then I can continue kissing you,” he whispered, pressing his lips on mine before he pulled me in until our chests were pressing each other. “I will kiss every part of your skin until you arch your chest, pressing your body to me. Then I will continue lower, kissing down your stomach, licking around your navel until you reach down to pull my hair. Just don’t pull me too hard, I might lose the hair that I have grown by then.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Appalled to how he could still throw a little joke in the middle of his sweet yet sinful talk. “Stop, you’re being silly.”

“You love me being silly,” he immediately responded. His lips turned to a smirk when I glanced up, making me want to kiss it away. But he had my body pressing close to his, making it hard for me to reach up. All I could reach was his neck, and that was where I let my lips rest, making him chuckle before he grunted softly when I nipped at his skin playfully in return just before he continued to whisper, “And I bet you will stop thinking that I am being silly once I reach your bikini bottom and start lowering them down your legs.”

I hid my face on the nape of his neck as I groaned desperately, the heat between my legs making its appearance once more. But I didn’t stop him.

“I will shift between your legs, never stop kissing you until I am there—licking, and sucking, and drinking every drop of your release until you scream my name.”

“Oh, Jimin,” I gasped. My body reacted before my mind could even process it. I was pressing my whole body onto him, my legs rubbing each other in desperate need to press the intense throbbing that was happening between them.

“Would you like that?” he whispered, sounding breathless when he spoke to me. His own desire was coating his words and I felt him trembling against me.

“Hmm—” I sighed, not even minding that he had one of his legs slipping between mine and I was practically grinding on his thigh. “Yeah, I would like that a lot.”

Jimin fell silent for a moment. But I could feel his eyes on me, studying my face while I had my eyes closed, embracing the warmth that was throbbing inside me, started deep within my core before it began to spread all over my body. I hummed softly as I was enjoying the warmth coming out of his body, when I focused on his thigh that was pressing down the heat between my legs. I waited until my heartbeat steadied and opened my eyes.

“Do you think I would stop there?” he asked, smiling gently as he watched me slowly falling apart.

“Oh? You won’t?”

“No, that’s just the beginning, my love,” he shook his head, pressing his thigh harder onto my heat. The pressure hit right where I needed him and I instantly started grinding against it while his words came flowing as if he was guiding me into making love to his body. And I complied with my eyes closed, my body dancing through his words, my hips kept swivelling with the same rhythm of his heartbeat under my palms.

“Once you come down from your climax, I will lift your legs, open them apart so I can move between them. I’ll keep touching your skin and kissing all over your body while I crawl on top of you. I won’t stop kissing you, and I will only look into your eyes when I make love to you under the stars and the moonlight. The sky and the universe as our witness. You will keep your eyes on the night sky, at the bright stars lighting us from above when I am deep inside you, filling you up until all you could see is more stars. I will bring you pleasure, the kind that you had never felt before, until your body explodes to another climax while you are in my hands.”

And that was it.

His words pushed me right into the edge, my hips moving voluntarily as I pictured him making love to me, his hands strumming my whole body the way his words did it to me. With each throb of need, I pressed my hips down, pressing myself harder onto his thigh while my hips rubbed against his covered hard-on. We moved together as I continued to swivel, rolling my hips against his body, thrusting my pulsing heat against his thigh, chasing my end. His voice started fading out when my whole body shuddered, the rush of pleasure came climbing up steadily until it reached to the peak, and I came apart with his arms around me. I kept whimpering his name, gasping for breath in between as the electric waves of bliss came coursing through my body. He never let go of me as he kept whispering to me sweet nothings, kissing my face gently until I was coming down from my high and I started to calm down.

“That was—” I gasped, when a few small spasms of my orgasm ran through me with his hands rubbing on my back. I gave him a smile which he returned with his own. “All of it, it all sounded beautiful.” I licked my lips, and let out a soft chuckle. “And completely unsanitary.”

Jimin laughed, sounding delighted and relieved. And then he kissed me, as gentle as he possibly could, yet still deep and intense. It felt like giving me my release had him letting go of his own apprehension. I was beginning to dread the fact that he had pleasured me while I failed to help him reach his end, until I felt his soaked pants and saw the dark stain forming between his legs that had proven otherwise. I was breathing a sigh of relief when he tilted my face up again.

“Will you do it with me one day? Run away to a place where we could be alone, together, just the two of us? Make love to me under the stars?” he asked me while looking deep into my eyes.

“I’ll go anywhere with you,” I answered him without ever looking away so he could see that I meant what I said. “You know that I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you, Jimin.”

Jimin’s eyes widened for a brief moment. I could see through them glints of happiness, hope, and joy, before they all disappeared in a blink and he was breaking down in front of me again. He pulled me into a deep hug, just when I felt myself breaking down with him. Neither of us could allow ourselves to pull away, to see the unspoken truth that lingered between us, that was shown through our eyes when they finally met each other again.

And then, as he gently pressed his lips on the top of my head, I felt him smiling through his tears.

“Everything will be okay,” he whispered. It was never clear whether he was trying to convince himself or to calm me down, but I took it all in, allowing the hope that was coating his sentence to reside in my chest.

“We’re going to be okay,” I said then, as I kept breaking down silently with tears.

“Yes, we are.” He kissed my forehead, repeating the words over and over again until his voice started to sound heavy with sleep. A sign that his medicine had finally taken effect on him. That our little tryst was enough to make him feel a bit more relaxed than he was before.

“Go to sleep, Jimin,” I told him as I wrapped my arms around him, feeling myself being dragged into the darkest of night at the same time, when my own body started to give in to sleep. I was halfway into my dreams when I heard his voice speaking softly to me,

“Thank you, ______. Good night.”

That night, I dreamt of us making love under the stars.

The ground and the plateau around us became nothing else but a blanket of darkness, overshadowed by the bright night sky above. Nothing else mattered but us, together, joined as one. Everything else became insignificant when all I could see, and feel, was him. And I could never look away from him as he made love to me, making me whole again while he brought me pleasure. Nothing else could make me look away, for he was the most beautiful star in my eyes, and he was the only one who could mend every piece of my broken soul until I was completed once again.

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