#these are all a little bit old but i DID just move across the county and felt the need to post again.

[olligane]

Hello Greed Nation. How we feeling today?

[a-gal-with-taste]

Returned Favors (Suggestive)

Summary: Aching and tired, the cowboy helps you out. It's only fair you help out with one of his aches, as well.

(Dipping my typing-hands into the RDR2 pool for some exercise. Enjoy, may or may not write more in the future!)

Warnings: Suggestive. Tension, early-established relationship, humor, banter, slight world-building, romance, sexual-tension, massage, straddling, implied sexual-content, open-ended

“Morgan.”

“Hmm?”

“Morgan.”

“I hear you.”

Surprising that he could - since collapsing into your bedroll face-first, you hadn’t moved a single, sore muscle of yours, except to open your mouth and whine out your partner’s name into the worn-fabric beneath you, twice now.

Which you did a third time, just to get the point across, “Morgan...”

The big sigh Arthur gave could practically be heard through the earth, a whole, full-bodied exhale that shook the ground. “Yes, m’lady?”

The sigh that you gave wasn’t nearly as powerful, but twice as heavy with your woes and strife, “I’m tired.”

“Praise be, that we just so happen to be laying on the greatest comforts that the universe has to offer!” Arthur exclaimed, his own voice rough from the day's journey. “A bed.”

“Bedrolls, Mr. Morgan, there’s a difference,” You finally turned your face, swallowing a whimper at the smallest movement sending a jolt through your body full of aching, overtaxed muscles. “You pushed us too hard today. Should’ve stopped in Van Horn-”

“Van Horn?!" The exclamation echoes, tumbling down the mountainside. Closer to a hill, but there was a decent-enough drop that the two of you thought it best to nestle as close to the alcove as possible. “Thought you’d want to sleep, not get shot.”

You scoffed, “Since when are you squeamish about getting shot? Besides, we’ve ridden through there a thousand times in daylight. Hell, Denis at night is scarier than Van Horn, we would’ve been fine.”

A low rasp as Arthur gave a scoff of his own, bordering on a pained-hiss as he shuffled in his bedroll. His voice was flat, but had a dry bit of mirth that assured you he was only teasing, “Well, if you want to ride your pretty little self back across the county, and settle up with the deranged and the degenerates down in Van Horn, you go be my guest.”

“And miss your company?” Muscles screamed inside your thigh as you lifted a leg to reach out, prodding at his side with a booted foot and a cheeky smile. “Not a single deranged degenerate I’d rather be settled with than you , Mr. Morgan.”

“Flattered, ma’am.” The look he gives to the boot you poke his ribs with, suggests that the outlaw is anything but.

Your muscles are in a rebellion, and even the simple act of annoying the cowboy has become exhausting. Flopping your foot back down onto the ground, you turn your face back into the bedroll, and breathe in slowly, and deep to push aside all thoughts of aches and pains...

When you exhale with a whimper, and hear a deep sigh beside you, you know you’ve failed.

“Listen, if you want me to ride you down to somewhere with a extra bed, Hamish isn’t that far-”

“We ain’t gonna bother Hamish at this hour.” Not to mention, while the old man was friendly, almost fatherly in his own way to the both of you, there was no way he would put up with your involuntary bellyaching from a hard-day's ride. Not when he had Buell to give him twice as many headaches. “I’ll survive... just sore, Morgan. Ain’t nothing I haven’t had before, or will have again.”

“Something I ain’t looking forward to...” You turn your head, just enough to peek an eye over. From beneath the hat that he placed over his eyes, Arthur’s deep, yet soft frown is prominent from under the rim of his infamous Gambler’s hat. “Don’t like seeing you hurt.”

There’s a warm flutter in your chest. “Probably not the best life for us to be in then. Pain goes with the job, and the job comes with pain.”

There’s a hum of agreement - unhappy, but Arthur assents with disgruntled ease nonetheless - and for a moment that follows, there’s silence beyond the night-life of the wilderness surrounding you both.

Then, Arthur sits himself up. Turning with your cheek-pressed against the worn-fabric you rest on, you watch as the large man pulls himself up with only minimal efforts, ambling over to crouch down, taking going down onto his knees at your side.

Slow in his movements, you can’t help but take note at the pinch in his brow as you gaze up at him, “Careful, cowboy,” You murmur. “Or I'm gonna start thinking you’re getting old.”

Any huff of laughter he makes is too low for your ears to catch it... but then again, your focus isn’t necessarily on his voice, by the time his hands reach down, pressing slowly yet firmly into the aching muscles of your shoulders.

Large, rough with callouses that are years, maybe decades old. There’s a certain hesitancy in the quick-draw’s hands, something few ever see, but you imagine you’re one of the first to ever feel.

These are hands that have done unspeakable things, and likewise, you’re unable to come up with any sense of words at the way he presses, rolling the heel of his palms into your muscles. “You alright, girl?”

“You really-” Voice, already weak, cuts off in a hum as a harsher-muscle is located, and Arthur rolls into it with a vengeance to soothe out the ache. “... you really gonna talk to me like I'm one of your horses, Morgan?”

“Found it helps put their minds at ease. Though it would work wonders for the ladies too,” His voice, however, was in direct opposition of his slow-hands, and you blinked slowly. Low, smooth... maybe not Hosea’s silver tongue, but it was one that was doing its magic of sinking deep into you, and easing away all your troubles. “Least, seems to be doing wonders for this lady... ain't that right, girl?”

Confidence was returning to his skilled hands, hands you’d seen at mastery in so many other places. Weapon-dealing, fighting, shooting, riding... with the way Arthur’s hands were gliding down the planes of your back, smoothing and pressing into hard muscles with faint squeezes to do-away with the stresses of the day, you chastised yourself for not expecting Arthur to become an expert at this too.

And you damned yourself for not asking him to do this sooner.

“Still with me, miss?” Encouraged by your silence, the man’s voice takes on a smug note, one that you have no doubt would be glinting in his blue eyes, the color of the skies. “Y’alright, girl?”

His hands sneak a bit lower - back of your waist, where the curve of your back stung with a day’s worth of sitting, riding and journeying over the American states, and the words slip out of you unbitten at his ministrations.

Or, the word.

His name, in a breathy, moan of need.

“ Arthur... ”

You couldn’t stop it from slipping out, just like you couldn’t stifle the whine of disappointment when the cowboys’ hands grow still on your body - it tastes like cruelty, snatching away the comfort he was so eager, readily offering, and you’re so caught up in your own frustration at the loss, your mind doesn’t even comprehend the fact that... Arthur hasn’t moved.

Hasn’t said anything, and while your focus on the fact that his hands have stopped, it’s only after a moment longer of silence that you realize that the entire man has come to a complete stop .

“Arthur?”

Silence. You would think you were alone, with only your horse and the ghosts of the world nearby to give you company, if not for the large-hands still settled on your waist, warm.

“... Arthur?”

Those hands leave you, and you have to swallow your whine back, first from the absence, and then from the ache in your shaky legs as you push off your palms to sit up. Watching the sandy-haired second in the Van Der Linde gang, you’re the second member of the group to be stuck dumb and silence as you watch him amble quietly back to his bedroll, face angled from you -

But the red tint on his ears is still visible.

“Night.”

“What? But, Arthu-”

“Goodnight, miss.” The man speaks over you, blocking out the sound of his name on your lips again, loud enough for you to blink at the sudden change of volume... and of pitch. His voice, so low and rolling like distant clouds of thunder in the skyline, has now risen to a pitch closer to that that youths like Sean or Lenny would have.

Arthur, with a voice-crack. God strike you dead, you never thought you’d see the day...

Or, you think as you watch the man settle back onto his bedroll, a day would come that you would see something else.

His excitement, in a sense. Your own ears grow hot and red all on their own, and suddenly, the ache in the bones of your upper-body become second to a different ache, and a sudden wetness on your tongue as you watch the man settle down, facing away from you onto his sleeping-mat.

You aren’t fooled. The attempt to go to bed is clearly futile, seeing how tightly-strung the man has become, even while laying down and, no doubt, trying his best to get some rest, and get you out of his mind.

Something which is simply not optional, and you push off the ground to stand, speaking his name again. His body twitches at the sound, a small grunt of acknowledgement... but no, that’s not enough.

“Arthur,” You murmur, voice once more low and breezy, the sound which brings double the tension flowing through the man’s body. A tension that seems to grow as the sound of your soft steps reach him, and body becomes rock-hard when they reach him... and one foot raises over him.

“Arthur.”

“Hm.”

“You really think that’s it?” You muse, moving down enough to push on a shoulder that’s more akin to a block of steel than flesh, muscles and bone. Under your touch, however, Arthur is as weak as a leaf, and turns onto his back on the slightest of pressure from your hand. Gazing up at you with twin-peeks of the daylight sky under his hand, the horizon in his gaze widens as you settle down, and straddle his lap. “You really think we’re done here?”

“You ain’t complaining anymore, so I figured-” His voice cuts off sharply, in time with the slow movement of your hips as you shift over his lap, and the bulge that presses against your own pants. Smiling down, you settle one hand beside his head, and the other comes up, fingers reaching for the rim of his hat.

No one touches Arthur’s hat.

Returning the favor - it’s only fair, and you’re more than happy to provide.

And you flick it off of his head with ease, and without any worry. His attention is fixed fully on you, the blonde streaks of his sandy-hair flicking in the soft breeze in the wild, and after a moment, your eyes trail back down to meet him. And you smile, once more, and you say more than just his name in a low, breathy tone.

“You helped me so much, Arthur... don’t you want me to help ease your aches, too?”

[resonanthead]

| | ➻ ( rudy pankow, twenty-two, he/him ) did you hear all the drama from rick’s party ? yeah apparently ( gareth emerson ) was there. i think someone said they work at ( sam goody ) and their favourite song is ( love bites - judas priest ) and that they tend to be ( creative, impulsive ) but also seemed quite ( self-destructive, facetious ). everyone says they remind them of ( liquorice rolling papers, split lips, drum solos and yard sale paperbacks stuffed in your back pocket ) …. i guess i could see that too. | |

pinterest

name : gareth jason emerson

nicknames : grizz, gar, gar-bear, grizzly-adams

age : twenty-two

pronouns : he/him

sexuality : bisexual

birthday : august 30th

birthplace : hawkins, indiana

family : jolene emerson (mother), graham emerson (father), whitney emerson (y. sister), archie emerson † (y. brother)

tattoos & piercings : septum and tongue pierced though mostly hides these unless he’s partying in indianapolis or chicago or with the freaks. inner bicep piece of a black dragon curled around a great sword, roman numerals of archie & whitney’s birthdays on his left wrist, a tiny banana between his pointer finger on the right hand for monkey, his dog. a few ugly stick and pokes and some newer ones that are way less ugly.  

aesthetics : room temperature pizza, spending half your pay check on polaroid film, a wave of good aftershave, headbanging until your neck feels like it’ll snap, letting your little sister paint your nails, engine oil in denim, love bites by judas priest playing faintly from a pair of headphones, dappled sunlight through forest leaves, sweat in your eyes, broken drumsticks, slinging your arm round the neck of your friend who can’t stop laughing, purple red bruises blooming like a valentines bouquet across your ribs, lovingly restoring old vinyl in the garage, the cold brush of a chain dangling from your lover’s neck against your racing pulse, smashing your fist into concrete until the knuckles split, the scent of old paper, cracked spines and well loved books.

never worn a matching pair of socks in his life, gareth liked garage sale paperbacks, pizza rolls and not much else. back in the day, the first five or six years of gareth’s miserable existence, the family had had a nice ranch style place by the woods but then his dad lost his job and they lost the house. from then on the family were usually too on top of one another, grizz always seeming to end up underfoot.

rock and roll’s the devil’s work, obviously. has soundproofed part of their small basement to practice drumming without getting yelled at.

[family death cw] though he never talks about it at all any more, about twelve years ago grizz’s five year old little brother drowned in lake tippecanoe when his dad briefly took his eyes off them. this kind of tore the family up. his mom left when grizz was fourteen, leaving a wad of cash in an envelope in his dresser and asking him to promise to be a ‘good boy’ until she came back. still waiting.

got a job the second he could during high school and has stayed employed ever since, though bounced around a fair bit.

[child abuse cw] his dad rarely goes a couple weeks without spiralling into a rage and physically attacking grizz which has been the same since his sophomore year, he’s just about to try and move out and find his own place after saving for a few years out of high school but he doesn’t want to leave his sixteen year old sister in the house.

used to be on the track team, a very fast runner.

held average grades at the start of high school, got some special attention from his english teacher who believed sincerely that he could do better if he just focused. managed to do pretty well by graduation but lost confidence in himself and his ability to adapt to living anywhere but hawkins because of his inability to pick a college. feels kind of cursed and stuck in roane county.

corroded coffin is his outlet, along with the ice hockey league he sometimes plays in a town over. has a notebook full of polaroids, quotes or lyric ideas scrawled on diner napkins, drive-in theatre tickets, the stamp from clubs in indianapolis and anything else you can think of, that is usually stuffed in the small of his back.

wears a lot of flannel and his extremely battered leather jacket basically every day of the year.

spends tooooons of time carefully painting the miniatures with tiny brushes for eddie’s d&d campaigns. usually plays a monk or a druid.

has a dog that is a mongrel of too many breeds to count named monkey, he has a neckerchief.

drums on every surface. all. the. time.

built a tree house and dugout in the middle of the forest for his friends from fifth to eighth grade, grizz’s dad is a carpenter by trade so he knows his way around.

makes a meaannnnn mac & cheese, is pretty much always down to clown.

pretty handy at fixing most types of motorbike, has been the only person to touch his own bike for about three years.

CONNECTION IDEAS PAGE

[brightgnosis]

Old Hagging Out Repost [June 2021]: An Unsuccessful Hag

When @graveyarddirt / @msgraveyarddirt​​ posted that this month’s theme would be “Preservation”, I won’t lie... I absolutely panicked a bit.

I’m  not the type to preserve things, to be honest. Mostly because I’ve just  never had any real need to; my Gardening usually only produces enough for the barest supplementation and interest- and this year I’m not even gardening at all, so there’s nothing to be had. I also don’t know where any of good foraging spots are in my new location- which my health and lack of ability to transport myself places has ultimately prevented me from exploring since I moved.

There’s also the issue of June simple being a bad time for harvesting in general, which makes it a bad time for preserving by proxy; by now the Daylilies, Lilacs, and Redbuds  are already well spent. Buffalo Currant won’t be ready for another month, and neither will the Sand Plums be (not to mention my favorite Sand Plum strand is roughly a 2 hour drive from my new home). The wildberries won’t be in for another two months still- and neither will the Sunflowers or Prickly Pear; to put it plainly, nothing’s ripe in June ... Not even the home garden would be, if I had one.

Finally I did remember something  fairly easy to find, abundant in production, typically in harvest right  around now, and fairly easy to preserve, that could actually work ...  Something I hadn’t even had in a long time, actually, but did miss fairly severely: Mulberries.

I have a lot of memories, as a child, climbing the giant Mulberry tree in  the middle of the windbreak near my childhood home. It grew alone in a  strand of  Hackberry, which was itself an island in the middle of a  field usually planted with Sweet Peas; I’d ruin dinner by picking the tart (and usually underripe) berries until my fingers were stained a vibrant purple ...

Another smaller tree sat at the second edge of the driveway, embedded into the gravel half consuming an old, silver painted pole- the remnants of a gate that once stretched across our driveway and used to say “No Trespassing”; I cried for a week when my father cut it down convinced it was part of the Trumpet Vine strand he’d tried to eradicate. It wasn’t, but he ignored me. It took him 3 years to admit he was wrong to a child ...

Another larger one grew in the rainwater ravine across the dirt road and down the way a few feet- technically in front of my Cousin’s old and now abandoned house. It never actually produced anything, but its branches were a familiar clubhouse for all us children- or was, until the County came and decided to cut down all the trees that broke the wind coming off the pasture. Our privacy fence fell to the famous straight line winds of the Great Plains bioregion the next year (and every year after that until dad gave up) ...

My first official grown up home was a little red brick number. It, too, was overshadowed by a Mulberry tree so tall and wide I thought it’d had to’ve been ancient because I’d never seen one so big, or so old. I never plucked the fruit from its branches, though- but then again, I was only there for 6 months anyways; the house’s next resident was my ex-girlfriend, who made comments about wanting to cut it down. I was glad it was a rental and she couldn’t ...

Seven years later I became the owner of the blue house around the corner, in perfect eyeline of that first home of mine. I was happy to see my old friend again- and this  time, I happily plucked the berries from its limbs each year. I was even happier to discover a White Mulberry, a truly rare find, nestled in the crevices of an old broken and cracked foundation across the road; the last remnants of a house that used to exist long ago in what's now an unused meadow.

I’m now living much more comfortably in a town quite a bit away from my old hometown- but not so far away I couldn’t visit on a whim ... And yet I haven’t seen a single Mulberry Tree this year- and I’ve looked high and low for weeks now. Finally, with no luck, I broke down last week and resorted to asking the local Gardener’s group if anyone knew where any public facing, safe to forage Mulberry trees happened to be in town ... The only response to my quarry was a very unhelpful “My car says the birds have had no problem finding them, lol. I hope you find some” (Thanks Kathy, I guess).

Hagging Out is here now, and I still haven’t seen heads or tails of what was once one of the most ubiquitous trees of my area. Thinking about it, I haven’t seen the Passionflower that grew along fences everywhere, either- or even Peach Trees, intentionally planted near fences to let  passerby's take some without Trespassing; it’s amazing to me how different the edible landscape is here, from my hometown not that far away. Or, perhaps, I’m just looking in the wrong areas.

Whatever the issue, I am bountyless and unable to participate this month. Sorry, y’all.

[deputygonebye]

@xgoldxnhour asked: “dance with me.”

Vinyl disc spun around and around, an old record supported by an even elder record player. What had once been considered an odd piece, a collector item that brought character and charm to their home, a bit of history not completely destroyed by the battles of the past, filled the Walsh family residence with music. Soft and simple, a country melody that accompanied slow song. Perfect for dancing, El only needed to say the word and Shane was up, upon his feet from his place on the sofa, living room coffee table moved out of the way and record player grabbed for. Far from the dance halls that they used to venture to, that little space in the living room was as grand as any. Dreamlike - untouched by the hands of time and the cold fingers of grief - a piece of heaven that could be claimed as their own. Small turntable positioned just right; on the coffee table that had been lifted, its needle adjusted to the farthest groove, static voice and gentle guitar strum played through slightly abused speakers.

Name of the song uncertain, just as was so for the featured musician who sang, it didn't matter once Shane took Eloise into his embrace, pulled her close and put one hand to her hip. The other gone to grasp her own - their fingers laced together, two halves that made a whole. Parallels uncanny, there was more gray to his hairs, then. More lines across his forehead, nearest his mouth, the light freckles that dashed across the bridge of his nose. Hands that had been scarred; marked by more than the actions of his own person, the consequences that only Shane could bestow. Some of Eloise's gold had turned to silver. Styled above her shoulders, her countenance daubed by motherhood and survival, her blues persuasive. She was no longer the woman that Shane once knew. Changed - so much like he - but familiar, nonetheless. Beloved still, still his girl, his love, the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to him. Eloise held so close, Shane guided their dance together, but they both knew that it was the heart, their hearts, that counseled their waltz pace.

Eyes gazed down onto her, contentment within those browns, Shane reminisced. "Remember the first time I took you dancin'? We went down to that little hall just outside of King County. I'll tell you what, for a girl raised outside of the Southern United States, you sure did have some good moves, El. Impressed the hell out of me, left me needin' a drink or two to refresh before the night was over!"

From one foot to the other, a sway between them, the dance continued. Followed the rhythm of the music - smooth basslines - the distance between Eloise and Shane that grew lesser, until they were pressed together, the arm around Eloise looped around her entire middle.

"Kiss me, baby." Shane commanded, though the order was far from a demand and rather an actual plea. A prayer from husband onto wife; devotion that conquered all.

Their love sealed through kiss, Shane whispered against Eloise, the plush of her mouth and the taste of her lip balm, a miracle found amongst the rubble of a rundown supermarket, oranges and cream.

"I love you, Eloise Walsh. I love you so much."

[cashforhousescolorado]

Colorado housing market becoming more buyer-friendly

LOVELAND, Colo. — In a little over a week, Lacey Vesper will be the proud owner of not one, but two houses in Loveland, Colorado. “I needed something that was move-in ready and I got it,” she said. “It’s across the street from a great K-8 school, and I have a 2-year-old son, so I’m looking forward to that and we can hit the ground running.” Vesper's experience this summer is orders of magnitude superior to the experiences of numerous other purchasers during the previous two years. https://www.tumblr.com/cashforhousescolorado “It took us about 2 days to find the home I needed. Just a handful of homes we did look at,” she said. It was really easy to find some that were in the price range this time, and they had sat [on the market] for a little bit as well, maybe even had a little bit of a drop in prices.” The purchase price will be virtually the same as the asking price. She was not required to provide or pay for appraisal gap coverage. She did not need to go through a home inspection. Then she sells her existing house and purchases the new one. “It does feel less crazy, and it feels like, as every day, individual buyer – you have more of a chance now,” she said. “That was a contract we haven’t seen in a really, really long time, and – it was refreshing,” said Kelly Moye, Vesper’s realtor and also a spokesperson for the Colorado Association of Realtors. “She really had the ability to feel protected, as a buyer, throughout the process.”

Home prices increased in the past 2 years

The past two years have been difficult for buyers as home prices increased and there was more competition. To get a house they wanted, many were even risking their budget and stretching themselves too thin. However, the market is shifting as interest rates rise. “It really all started in April, when rates when from 4-5% in a week. That was the moment the shift started,” Moye said. “Within days we started to see offer deadlines come out of broker remarks, things shifted and changed. Then we started seeing price reductions – [properties sat] on market a little longer than anticipated.” She continued: “Those price reductions changed the entire direction of the market because it changes the momentum. It feels, to the buyers, that they have power now, or at least more of it. And if also feels more balanced.” According to the most recent figures from CAR: Single-family homes in Denver County that were put on the market this month are spending more time there, averaging 18 days compared to 11 in August 2021. In August of this year, Denver County single-family homes were sold at 102.4% of the list price, as opposed to 99.1% last August. In August 2022, the inventory of single-family houses in Denver County is expected to be 1.4 months – up from 0.9 months last August. In August 2022, the median sales price of a single-family property in Denver County was $655,000, up from $626,000 last August. “Appreciation is still happening, it’s just happening at a slower pace,” Moye said. The Denver Metro Association of Realtors released updated statistics that reflect data from 11 counties around the metro: The median price of a detached home in August was $645,000, up from $581,000 last August. The number of active lists (inventory) has grown by 93% from this point last year. Homes are staying on the market for longer: 19 days in August 2022, as opposed to 11 months earlier. It was advantageous for Lacey Vesper's plan to take effect at this time. “I’m fortunate that I could wait it out because… [at the] beginning of this year there’s just no hope, no chance for me,” she said. “Even in the last six months, I’ve seen drastic changes in the market whereas, at the beginning of this year, I didn't stand a chance. There’s no way it would have happened for me earlier this year as it did now.”

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Broken Trust

Summary: Y/N Walsh meets Daryl Dixon while working as an undercover Police Officer. But, when Daryl finds out the truth about you, you’re forced to move back to King County.

While on duty, a bullet puts you and Rick Grimes in hospital and when you wake up, the whole world has changed.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Language, alcohol

Previous chapter

Chapter 10-

Dr Edwin Jenner was the man running the CDC, he made you all submit to a blood test if you wanted to come in.

So, you all agreed and after Andrea nearly passed out after her blood test due to not eating anything, Dr Jenner took you all to the kitchen and you were now sitting around the large table, bowls and plates stacked with food and bottles of wine covering the table top as you ate and drank together.

You knew everyone had a little bit too much to drink by now, but you were not about to stop Dale from giving everyone another round as he made his way around the table with another bottle of wine, topping up everyone's glasses.

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France." Dale said, as he finished filling up your glass.

You looked over at Carl across the table who was sitting between his parents causing you to chuckle.

The day Lori lets Carl drink, would be the day pigs fly.

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then." She responded and you just rolled your eyes.

She was always a sticker for the rules even as kids. She was a good mother, but you sometimes wished she let loose sometimes.

"What's it going to hurt? Come on." Rick responded, looking over at his wife.

"Alright." She finally said and your eyes widen in shock as you glanced over at you brother beside you who seemed to be as shocked as you were.

Dale grinned, pouring a little bit into Carls plastic cup as you watched the boy take a sip.

"Ew! That tastes nasty!" He exclaimed, pulling a disgusted face as he poked his tongue out causing everyone to laugh. 

"That's my boy." Lori responded grabbing his cup and pouring the wine into her glass.

"Better stick to soda pop there, bud." Shane said as Rick handed Carl a can of soda instead.

"Not you, Glenn. Keep drinking little man. I wanna see how red your face can get." Daryl said as he leant over the table and picked up one of the bottles of wine causing the others to all laugh as you stared at Daryl.

He had a golden Desert Eagle handgun tucked into he front of his pants where his shirt had ridded up a little, exposing some of his skin and you quickly looked away.

What the hell are you doing, Y/N?

Shaking your head at yourself you took a drink from your glass and leant back in chair. You've defiantly had more wine than you probably should, you didn't even like wine that much anyway, but it was there and hell, you wanted to get drunk.

"It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly." Rick suddenly spoke up and you glanced over at Dr Jenner who was sitting at the other table silently.

"He is more than just our host." T-Dog added, standing up and holding his glass of wine to the sky. "Hear hear!" He shouted as the others all mimicked him, raising their glasses and you did the same.

"Booyah!" Daryl shouted, raising his bottle of wine, not even bothering to pour it into a glass as he took a drink.

Still the same old Dixon.

"So, when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc? All the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?' Shane suddenly questioned from beside you causing everyone to stop celebrating as they looked between Shane and the doctor as you elbowed your brother.

He couldn't have waited a couple hours before asking?

"We're celebrating, Shane. Don't need to do this now." Rick responded.

"Whoa, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move, supposed to find all the answers. Instead we found him. Found one man. Why?" 

"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted... But, many couldn't face walking out the door. They opted out. There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time." Dr Jenner explained and for a moment nobody said anything as they stared at him in shock before you broke the silence.

"You didn't leave. Why?" You asked, a small part of you hoping that he was close to finding a cure for all of this, but deep down you knew that was impossible.

"I just kept working. Hoping to do some good." He answered with a shrug as the room fell into awkward silence as you all stared at the doctor, not really sure what to do or say next.

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man." Glenn muttered from across the table.

"Yes, he is. You get used to it, now I need a refill." You announced, trying to lighten the mood as you filled up your glass again before passing the bottle around the table for the others and a few minutes later, you were sitting back and chatting away again.

An hour later, the group of you were well and truly drunk.

A few more so than others as you walked down the hallway following Dr Jenner as he showed you all were you could sleep and were the showers were.

Showers, with hot water.

It was like you had died and gone to heaven. You had shelter, alcohol, beds and showers. What more could a girl want?

Everyone had somehow managed to pick their bedrooms and you made sure to pick the one furthest away from Shane because you knew when he was drunk, he snored like a freight train.

Their were only two showers in the large communal bathroom, so you had to wait a while before it was your turn, but you didn't mind.

You ended up back in the kitchen, sitting on one of the benches with a bottle of Jack Daniels that you recently discovered on one of the top shelves in the kitchen.

If you knew that was there the whole time, you wouldn't have been drinking that awful wine, but better late than never.

Glenn and Daryl were still in the kitchen with you, either waiting for a shower or just bored. You weren't sure which, but it didn't matter as you sat back and watched Glenn struggle to pour himself another glass of wine, spilling most of it on over the table causing you and Daryl to laugh as you watched him.

"A shower is free, y'all." Shane's voice shouted from down the hallway as Glenn quickly looked up, waiting to see who was going to go.

"Go for it, Glenn." You said, nodding towards the door.

"Thank you!" He shouted, although he did not need to shout since he was just across the room.

You just chuckled, watching him stagger out the door before you realised that you had just made a big mistake.

Now it was just you and Daryl alone in the room.

That was a bad idea.

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes as Daryl sat on one of the chairs with his legs resting up on the table, nursing his soon to be empty bottle of wine while you sat on the bench top fiddling with your now half empty bottle of jack.

"Are you just going to keep ignoring me?" You suddenly questioned, glancing over at Daryl who refused to look at you.

"Yep." He muttered, taking a swig from his bottle causing you to roll your eyes.

It had been over five years. Yes, he thought you betrayed and used him, but it was years ago and the world had literally died, couldn't you move on?

"What do you want me to say to you, Daryl? It's been over five years-"

"Ya used me! Ya lied to me 'n you're a fuckin' cop!" He snapped, slamming his bottle of wine down on the table with a thud as he stood up causing you to flinch at his unexpected outburst as you stared at him, not knowing what to say. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He muttered, staring at you for a few seconds before he began to walk off.

"Daryl, wait." You quickly said, just as he reached the door and stopped, but didn't look back at you. "I didn't want to hurt you, it wasn't my intention. Yes, I was an uncover cop, but I never used you. I loved you, Daryl."

"If ya loved me then why didn't ya tell me the truth?" He questioned, slowly turning around to face you.

"I couldn't, I was afraid that you'd react like this." You answered truthfully causing Daryl scoff, shaking his head before walking out the room.

You stood there in the middle of the kitchen for a few minutes, trying to figure out what the hell just happened before Carol appeared.

"Hey, one of the showers are free- what happened?" She asked, walking into the room as she took in the tears in your eyes.

"Nothing. I've just had way to much to drink. I'm gonna have a shower and go to bed."

You didn't give her a chance to respond before you walked past her, out the kitchen and made your way towards the showers.

You walked into the room, noticing someone was in the shower to the left as you walked into the cubical to the right that Carol had just came out of and didn't waste anytime as you stripped off your clothes.

You figured it was probably Glenn still in the other shower as you finished pulling your clothes off before you turned on the taps. Instant hot water began to flow causing you to sigh in relief as you got under the stream.

At least this time you weren't having a shower at the station with Rick, Morgan and his son literal a few metres away from you. This time you had privacy and you were the last one to have a shower which meant you could take as long as you wanted.

You weren't sure how long you spent under the water, but when you finally turned the tap off, you came to a quick realisation that you had forgotten to grab a towel before you walked in here.

Shit.

You stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out what to do as you stared at your deputy uniform on the ground before the shower beside you turned off and an idea clicked.

"Umm, Glenn. I forgot to grab a towel, can you throw it over for me?"

You stared up at the ceiling as you waited for him to respond, but he never said anything before a towel was thrown over the side of your cubical.

"Thanks." You responded as you began to dry yourself with the towel before you realised that you left your bag in your bedroom that contained all your clean clothes.

Drunk you was clearly very forgetful. Did you forget to anything else too?

You figured everyone would already be in bed and your bedroom was just two doors down the hall. 

So, you wrapped your towel around your body, securing it tightly before you grabbing your dirty clothes from the ground.

Once you had everything, you opened the door to your shower cubical only to come face to face with Daryl fucking Dixon as he stepped out the shower next to yours.

The two of you practically walked straight into each other causing you drop the bottle of Jack still in your hand as the glass smashed onto the ground, alcohol spilling everywhere and up onto your legs as glass scattering over the floor.

You didn't say anything to Daryl as you put your dirty clothes back down and crouched down as you began to pick up the glass pieces, not wanting Carl or Sophia to walk in here and get glass on their feet.

"Ya gonna cut yourself." Daryl muttered from somewhere in the room.

You ignored him, not even looking at him as you continued to pick up the pieces. But, of course, he was right because not a second later one of the pieces sliced your palm.

"Shit." You winced under your breath, blood trickling down your hand.

You continued picking up the pieces before Daryl suddenly crouched down beside you.

"I got it. Go back in the shower, wash the wound and the alcohol off your legs."

You lifted your head to look at him, but he wasn't looking at you as he began to take over from picking up the pieces.

Wait, was he actually being nice to you?

You stared at him for a moment before walking back into the shower, not bothering to close the door since you were just going to wash your hand and legs as you turned the water back on.

You lifted your legs under the water, trying not to get your towel wet as you swapped legs, getting the whiskey off your skin before you held your hand under the water and watched as the blood tripped from your palm.

It was only a small cut, didn't even need a Band-Aid, but like a paper cut, it stung like a bitch.

"M'sorry for what I said earlier." Daryl mumbled from somewhere behind you as you kept your hand under the water, your back facing him.

"Don't. You have every right to be angry, you have every right to hate me."

Suddenly, Daryl's hand was on your shoulder and you turned around, your eyes locking with his ocean blue ones.

"I don't hate ya."

It was only then did you realise just how close the two of you were. Your faces inches apart and before you even knew what was happening, his lips were pressed against yours.

He must have had a fair bit to drink because you were almost certain that if Daryl was sober, he wouldn't even be in the same room as you, let alone actually kissing you.

You began to kiss him back, getting lost in the moment before your drunk brain began to catch up with what was happening and you knew you should put a stop to this.

Daryl wouldn't want this.

He was drunk, you were slightly drunk.

He'd wake up and hate you even more if you let this happen.

"We can't do this." You whispered against his lips, pulling away slightly.

"Tell me to leave 'n I will." Daryl responded as he took a step to the side, so he wasn't blocking the door, but you didn't say anything as you stared at him.

You weren't sure who had made the first move, for all you know it could've been you who had leant forward, but you were kissing him again.

It must have been the alcohol in your system giving you confidence because the next thing you knew, you were fiddling for the buttons to his flannel and he wasn't even trying to stop you as his hands cupped the side of your face, kissing deeply.

You managed to undo the buttons of his flannel, exposing his toned stomach as you pulled the sleeveless shirt the rest of the way off his body.

Your hands instantly began trailing over the familiar scars across his chest as you kissed him while he began to undo his belt and before you knew what was happening, he had pulled the towel off you, exposing your naked body.

Daryl took a moment, taking in your frame before froze, his fingers tracing over the freshly scarred skin on your stomach from the bullet wound.

His expression turned into confusion as he stared at it, clearly realising that it never used to be there.

You didn't wait for him to ask, instead you grabbed his hand and pulled him backwards until you were both standing under the shower as the water poured down your bodies before his lips found yours and he kissed you again.

His hands traced over your bare back as he began to place a trail of kissed down your neck. 

Oh, you were so going to regret this in morning, but right now? You were going to have fun. 

-

MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E2; Chapter Two, The Weirdo On Maple Street - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘠/𝘯, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

The booming clap of thunder and the steady drumming of rain hitting the windows can be heard. The poor girl sat before us, shaking, her breath heavy and ragged. She was now wearing Mike's jacket; he had given it to her when we found her shivering in the rain. The four of us stood in front of her, gazing at her in awe and bewilderment. Lucas and Mike were to my right, Dustin on my left. Mike finally broke the silence.

"Is there a number we can call for your parents?"

"Where's your hair? Do you have cancer?"

"Dustin," I warn. Although, I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind.

Before I can stop them, the boys continue to ask her all sorts of questions without even giving her a chance to answer.

"Did you run away?"

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Is that blood?" Lucas slowly extends his arm towards the girl's face; before I can stop him, Mike beats me to it and smacks his arm away.

"Stop it! You're freaking her out!"

"She's freaking me out!"

"I bet she's deaf." Dustin then turns to look at the girl and quickly claps his hands in her face and she flinches back, clearly even more frightened, if that is at all possible.

"Not deaf." He says weakly, shrugging his shoulders.

I draw the line there. "Dustin, seriously? Do you not hear yourself? How would you feel in her position, huh?"

"Y/n's right, okay? Enough, both of you." Mike defended me and looked to Dustin and Lucas as he spoke. "She's just scared and cold." He pointed in the girl's direction as he said this.

Hearing him say that made me realize she was still in nothing but a soaking wet t-shirt and Mike's jacket. I turn to Mike. "We should probably get her some fresh clothes. Do you have any down here?" I ask.

Mike nods and heads towards a laundry basket across the room. I look back at the girl and I see her close her eyes and flinch, shrinking into herself a little as another clap of thunder boomed from outside. I cautiously took a step around to the side of the coffee table and took a seat on the edge so I was near her eye level but not so close I was invading her space.

"Hey, it's okay," I try, my voice gentle. "It's just thunder. You're gonna be okay. You're safe now."

I send her a warm, reassuring smile. She says nothing, but I swear I see gratitude in her eyes.

Mike returns with some fresh clothes.

"Here, these are clean. Okay?" She cautiously takes the clothes from him and looks at them. After a moment she brings them to her face and softly rubs them on her cheek. My sympathy for her grows stronger, who knows how long it has been since she's had a proper set of clothes. She sets them aside and shrugs Mike's jacket off of her shoulders. She rises to her feet, reaching for the bottom of the t-shirt she was wearing, clearly about to undress in front of us.

"No, no, no!" We all yell.

I jump to my feet in surprise, ripping my gaze away in panic while also attempting to reach for her hands to keep them in place. Mike tries to do the same, but he's a bit more shaken up. Meanwhile, Dustin and Lucas began freaking out, their heads turned so as to not see anything. Dustin could not stop saying, "Oh, my God!"

"See over there?" Mike points to the bathroom just across the room. "That's the bathroom. Privacy. Get it?" He asks. The girl looks ashamed and confused. She looks to the bathroom and then to me, her eyes pleading. I can tell she's afraid to be alone. I take a quick, deep breath and look at her. "You... want me in there with you?" I ask gently.

She nods and we are all surprised to hear her speak. "Yes."

"Really? Umm," I look to the guys in shock who all wear the same expression as the scene unfolds. Panicking, but also realizing by now she doesn't understand why I would be, I look back to her only to find fear in her eyes and I feel a wave of guilt. A sigh escapes and I nod. "Yeah, uh, okay. I can do that, but, you're still gonna need some privacy, okay?" I grab her clothes off the couch and I lead her to the bathroom and she looks around in curiosity.

I gesture around the bathroom awkwardly, not really knowing what to do.

"Here, I'm not gonna look, but we should close this so they don't accidentally see anything. Okay?" I gesture to the door.

Panic flooded her features, and for the first time since we found her she wore an expression of absolute certainty, speaking for the second time tonight. "No."

"Hey, its okay, it's just so that you can change in privacy. You know, so they don't accidentally see you changing? How about we close it most of the way? That way you have privacy, but you know you can still get out. Does that sound good?" She hesitates then nods her head slightly. I push the door in so it's cracked open.

I handed her Mike's spare set of clothes, doing my best to offer a small smile. "Alright, here you go,"

For a moment I think, just maybe it's okay to slip out and let her change. But then I see the look in here eyes, and it hits truly me why it's so important to her someone stays.

My smile feels a little more genuine now and it almost seems to put her at ease, just a little. "Don't worry, I'll stay."

I cross over to the other side of the bathroom, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet with my back turned to her. For extra measure, I even clamped my hand over my eyes, still trying to figure out my day took such a weird turn. I can her start to move around and figure she's started changing, and briefly I think of how scared she looked when the thunder rumbled.

It reminded me of how bad thunder used to scare me as kid; like really bad, and how Mom helped me through it. Even kept me company until I fell asleep, and it all made a little more sense why she asked me. It was the same reason I recognized the look in her eyes almost at once; Anxiety and genuine fear. Like I did when I was a kid, I needed that company around just to know I wasn't alone.

It only makes my mind race with a million different questions but, they're all silenced when I hear voices coming from the other room.

"This is mental." It was Dustin.

"At least she can talk." Mike defended.

"She said 'no' and 'yes.' Your three-year-old sister says more." Lucas counters. I bite my lip, trying not to yell at Lucas. If he heard her say 'no' to me from the bathroom, that obviously means that we can hear him. As much as I love those guys, they can be really insensitive.

"She tried to get naked." Dustin argued."She brought Y/n in there with her!"

I can feel my face heat up and I wish I could melt into a puddle where I sit. At least that way they could just flush me and be done with it.

"It's not like that! She's just scared," Mike defended.

"There's something seriously wrong with her. Like, wrong in the head." Said Lucas.

"She, just went like..." and then I could barely make out the muffled sound of something falling.

"I bet she escaped from Pennhurst."

"From where?" Mike sounded just as exasperated as I was feeling.

"The nuthouse in Kerley County."

"You got a lot of family there?"

"Bite me."

"Seriously though, think about it. That would explain her shaved hair and why she's so crazy."

"Why she went like..."

"She's an escapee is the point. She's probably a psycho."

"Like Michael Myers."

"Exactly! We should've never brought her here."

"So you just wanted to leave her out in that storm?"

"Yes! We went out to find Will, not another problem."

"I think we should tell your mom." Dustin offers.

"I second that."

"Who's crazy now?"

"How is that crazy?"

"'Cause, we weren't supposed to be out tonight, remember?"

"So?"

"So if I tell my mom and she tells your mom and your mom..."

"Oh, man."

"Our houses become Alcatraz."

"Exactly. We'll never find Will."

There's a brief silence, and I think about everything I just heard. Mike had a pretty good point. And I don't blame Lucas for being skeptical, I just wish he wouldn't be so harsh sometimes. If I can hear their conversation, that means she can. I can't imagine what she must be going through right now.

"All right, here's the plan. She sleeps here tonight."

"You're letting a girl --"

"Just listen! In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She'll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We'll be totally in the clear. And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will."

I feel a light tap on my shoulder and I turn around to see the girl had changed. She had sad look on her face and I don't blame her at all.

"Feeling better?" I ask. She meets my eyes for a brief moment and nods, looking back down at her feet.

I sigh and lower my voice into a whisper, trying to undo all the damage the boys just unknowingly caused. "Hey, I'm sorry they said all those things. You'll be in good hands here with that boy Mike; the guy who gave you the clothes, he's really nice, and it sounds like you'll be staying with him."

I stood up, eyeing the door and my friends who I could barely see through the slat we left open and I turned back to her.

"By the way... You don't have to answer any of those questions if you're not ready. That was unfair of them to do that. If you ever need anything... or someone to talk to, even after we get everything sorted out, well, I'm here." I shrug, giving her a reassuring smile before opening the door, leading her out of the bathroom.

Lucas and Dustin were standing at the bottom of the stairs, ready to head out. I follow their gaze to find Mike had made a small fort for the girl.

Mike was helping the girl get settled inside. "Here you go. This is my sleeping bag."

"You really think she's psycho?" Dustin whispered.

"Wouldn't want her in my house." Before Lucas could head up the stairs I spoke up.

"We heard everything."

Lucas and Dustin stopped and looked at me, worried.

"What?"

"All those nasty things you were saying back there, we heard every word. She heard every word... Just go. Dustin, I'll catch up in a few minutes. Bye." I threw them a flat, angry look as I shook my head and walked away. As I made my way over to the fort I took note of the silence behind me, followed by reluctant footsteps up the stairs.

"Hey, um, I never asked your name." Mike said trying to make conversation. I kneeled down next to Mike.

The girl looks at us both, then without saying anything, she pulls up her left sleeve to reveal a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. It read '011'. My eyes widen in shock.

"Woah," I can't help but gasp.

"Is that real?" Mike asks excitedly as he reaches over to touch the tattoo. She quickly retracts her arm and looks at Mike. There's an awkward silence apart from the booming thunder outside.

"Sorry, I've just... never seen a kid with a tattoo before." He apologized sheepishly.

"Can I ask what it means?" I say.

She looks at me and then points a finger towards herself.

"So, that's your name? Eleven?" I confirm.

She nods her head and then looks down at her lap.

"Eleven. Okay." Mike says, perking up. "Um, well, my name's Mike. Short for Michael, and this is my friend Y/n. He's Dustin's brother." Eleven looks over at me and I smile politely, giving her a small wave.

"Maybe we can call you 'El.' Short for Eleven." Mike offers. She nods her head in agreement. There's a silence and I can tell Mike likes her already.

"Um, well, okay," I say, trying to break the silence. "El, it was nice meeting you. And, like I said, if you need anything at all, I'm here. And so is Mikey here, of course," I say, looking over at Mike, giving him a knowing look, a smirk on my face. "Unfortunately, I have to head home so, I'll see you guys later."

I smile and grab my jacket. As i head for the stairs, I turn to both of them and send them a little wave. "Bye!"

Mide nods at me, the girl, El watching curiously as I go. That's the last I see of them as I dissapear up the steps.

I could hear Mike stuttering a 'goodnight' to El as I make it to the top. Clearly, I caught him off guard. I smile to myself, thinking.

'Ohh, he has so got it bad.'

I parked my bike in its usual spot and made it through the front door quiet enough so my mom won't hear.

Most of the lights were turned off, my mom must have gone to bed already just as I suspected. I heard an obnoxious meowing near my feet and look down to see Mews. I kneel down and pet this attention starved cat knowing that's the only way she will ever quiet down. I don't know how she can be attention starved when Mom doted on her as much as she does.

Mews lets out a deep purr and leans into my hand as I give her head a few scratches. I take off my shoes and set them by the front door before sneaking back into my room.

I flip on the light switch and stare at my slightly messy room and sigh at the events of today. I close my door so I can change into my pj's and tidy up a bit. Once I'm done I open my door so it's ajar, knowing that Mews likes to come and go throughout the house as she pleases. I sit down on the side of my bed and sigh heavily.

My eyes are fixed on the floor, particularly the different shadows that were being cast from my lamp on my bedside table as my thoughts wandered back to the fruitless efforts of tonight.

The stress and constant worrying have taken its toll on me. It breaks my heart to know that my best friend is somewhere out there lost and probably hurt. I guess a big part of me was sure that we were going to find Will in those woods out by Mirkwood tonight. I should have known better.

I feel something on my leg and I look down to see tear stains on my pajama bottoms. I hadn't even realized I had started crying. I sniffle, wiping my nose and grab the stuffed duck that was sitting on my bed. Will had won it for me. I give it a tight hug, a small smile creeps its way onto my face at the memory.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

It was the first Saturday of summer vacation and the five of us had gone to the arcade for a much-deserved celebration. We all filed into the arcade, I followed Mike, Dustin, and Lucas as we made our way to Dustin's favorite game Dig Dug, Will and I side by side, buzzing with the excitement of the new summer ahead of us.

There was a brief moment of comfortable silence as we looked around the arcade. We passed by all the familiar games including the infamous claw game. I spare a glance at its contents and notice an adorable bright yellow duck perched in the front of the glass.

I smile and point at the stuffed duck. "Oh! That duck is so cute!" I admired it for a brief moment and catch up with Dustin, assuming Will is still next to me.

( hats off to the folk who understand this reference!! 😎 )

About twenty minutes later I had just beaten Mike's high score on Pac Man. All the boys watched over my shoulder and I couldn't help but cheer out. "Ha! Say, Mike, how does my dust taste?"

"Oh, whatever. You only beat me by," he leans over my shoulder to look at my score. "Holy crap! 1300 points?! Alright, well done." He sighs.

"Hey Will, you owe me 5 bucks!" I turn to my friend only to not see him there. I look around in confusion.

"Wait, guys, where is Will?"

They all shrug.

"I don't know, the last time I saw him he was with you. When we got here." Lucas shrugged.

I look around until I spot the familiar bowl cut by the claw machine. He must have won something since he was leaning down to grab some prize from the machine. I quickly grab my tickets and abandon the machine and meet him by the claw, he made eye contact with me and quickly put his hands behind his back.

"Hey, man. Where have you been? You just missed it. I just annihilated Mike in Pac Man. It was awesome!"

"I, um... Well, I, uh," he scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he stammered.

I breathed out a soft laugh. "Will, it's fine, you're not on trial or anything."

"Well I noticed you seemed to really like that duck and it seemed easy enough, and um, and so yeah, I played a couple rounds and, well here." His words sort of spilled out of his mouth and he quickly pulled out his hand from behind his back and handed me the cute little stuffed duck from earlier. A huge, beaming smile finds it's way onto my face as I take the duck from him.

"Oh, wow!" I gasped as I took the duck from him. "That's awesome, thank you! I love it! Aww, it's so cute!" I gave the duck a big squeeze and held it under my arm.

"Yeah, uh no problem. So you said you beat Mike's score? That's great! By how much?" He seems more relaxed now that he's changed the subject.

"You'll never believe it, 1300 points!" I said smugly.

"No way! Y/n, that's awesome!" He gave me a big smile.

"I know right? Anyways, come on, let's hit up Space Invaders. We've got more records to beat." I motioned towards the machine, but Will doesn't move. His smile only falters. "What's wrong Byers? Come on, we better hurry before someone else gets to it." I give him a smile, silently urging him to come along.

"Yeah, umm about that... I don't have any money left. I um, I kinda spent it all on the claw." He said sheepishly.

"What?" I stare in disbelief. I can't believe he would do that.

"I'm sorry, I just thought that—" he stammered.

"No, Will, hey! I'm not mad!" I soothe as I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"And please, don't be sorry. If anything, I'm sorry. You spent all your money just to get this duck. I know you guys are tight on money right now, and well, I—" I stopped, completely appalled at his actions. "Thank you. That means so much to me. You're amazing." I smile and pull him in for a hug.

The hug lingers for a few moments longer than necessary but not enough to make it too awkward. He was hesitant to let go it seemed. I finally broke the hug and gave him another big grin.

"Come on, I am playing Space Invaders with my favorite person, whether he likes it or not. I've still got a buttload of coins."

"But, you don't have to do that."

"You didn't have to spend all your money getting the duck but you did anyway." I point out. He smiles at this.

"Besides," I continued. "You know me, I'd feel way too guilty if I didn't repay you in some way for the duck. This way, we'll be even. What do you say?" I playfully elbow him.

A big grin breaks out on his face. "Yeah okay, cool. Thanks."

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

I smile fondly as I give the ever so slightly worn duck a squeeze. It quickly became one of my favorite things. A quiet sob escapes my lips as I hug the duck.

"Y/n?" My head shot up to my door to see Dustin poking his head in my room, concern etched on his face.

I sniffle and quickly wipe my nose with the back of my hand as I attempt to stop my sobs.

"Sorry," I mumble, figuring I'd annoyed him.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Dustin asks worriedly, he takes a seat next to me, not before closing the door behind him.

"I'm sorry, I just," I am unable to hold back another sob, I lean into my brother's shoulder. He wraps an arm around my shoulder as he tries to comfort me.

"Seriously, are you okay? What's the matter?"

"I miss him," I wail. I can feel Dustin's body stiffen for a brief moment at the mention of Will. He sighs and runs his hand up and down my shoulder, trying to comfort me.

"I know," his voice sounds hoarse, like he's trying not to cry. "I miss him too."

"What if, he doesn't come back?" I choke on my sobs.

"You shouldn't talk like that. We'll find him. You know him, he's good at hiding. If something did get him, you just know he's hiding. That's why the clever bastard never bites it in our campaigns, even when we do."

I breathe out a soft chuckle at this. Dustin has a point. It seems no matter what kind of trouble he gets into during our campaigns, he always seems to find a way out. It's become a running joke in our party.

My smile falters. "But what if..."

"Y/n, you can't keep doing this to yourself. No more 'what ifs' it's not healthy, and—"

"Well, I can't help it, Dustin!" I snap, cutting him off. "I just... I just can't. You don't understand. You think I like it when my brain won't stop plaguing me with these god awful scenarios that gnaw at me every second? I can't help it, it's so draining! Why do you think it takes so long to come down from my anxiety attacks?"

My eyes are welling up again and my vision has become blurry. All I can do is look down back at the ground.

Dustin only sighs. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

I sniffle and sigh. "I'm sorry too. It just gets so frustrating not being able to communicate my feelings with people who don't deal with anxiety like I do."

"I just... I just hope he's okay." Hot tears slide down my face as I stare at the wall. I heard a sniffle come from Dustin. We stayed like that for quite some time, longing for our friend.

______________

A//N: I put this in because I think it's important that I share this with you all. I don't ever see any fics with a reader with an anxiety disorder and I thought it was important that I do because as someone who struggles with anxiety and someone who has anxiety attacks all the time, I often feel disconnected from the story, anyway I thought that I should shed some light on the subject as well as let readers with anxiety disorders feel included and represented as well as let you know YOU ARE NOT ALONE AND YOUR DISORDER DOES NOT DEFINE YOU. PLEASE DM ME (A LIVING BREATHING PERSON WITH AN ANXIETY DISORDER) IF ANY OF YOU WANT TO TALK TO SOMEONE WHO STRUGGLES WITH THIS AND/OR YOU WANT TO ASK QUESTIONS TO LEARN MORE.

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 5 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader

This is a big one babes!! Hold on tight!! 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

Contains: canon-typical discussion of violence, soft aaron hotchner supremacy 

wordcount: 1.8k

You barely saw Aaron on Sunday, despite being in his house the whole day-- Jack was practically buzzing with excitement the moment you came through the door, pulling you down to his height and wrapping his arms around your neck to squeeze you in a hug.

“Hey, little man, I’ve missed you!” You said enthusiastically, returning his hug. 

“I missed you too. And so did Daddy. He said you were sick so I drew you a feel better card,” he told you, dragging you over to the coffee table and brandishing the  piece of computer paper he’d folded in two to form a card. 

“I love it so much Jack! I feel better already. Let’s put this on the fridge, yeah?” You said, standing up and shooting Aaron a smile as you crossed the kitchen. 

“Can we play legos now?”

“Buddy, give her a second. She just got here.” Aaron tried to calm Jack down, but you waved him off. 

“Just let me put my stuff away, and I’ll meet you in your room, okay?’ You told Jack, who scurried off towards his bedroom.

Aaron must have found some other way to entertain himself, because you and Jack spent the whole morning together, only taking a break after lunch when it was time for Jack’s nap. He insisted that you put him down, and after three readings of Curious George, he was finally asleep. When you turned to leave, you saw Aaron sitting in the door jam watching you.

“He was so excited this morning you would have thought it was Christmas,” He remarks as you meet him in the doorway. 

“He’s a good kid.” You whisper, slipping out into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind the two of you.

“I’m lucky.” He agrees with you. 

“Come on, Hotchner, it’s not all luck.” You tease him good naturedly as the two of you move back to the kitchen. He saw you headed for the sink, full of dishes from lunch, and sped up to get in front of you.

“Ah, ah ah. It’s naptime.” He told you, placing his hands on your shoulders and turning you around. 

Before you could stop yourself, you stomped your foot, not entirely unlike a child who needed a nap. “Hotch, come on!” 

“We’re probably getting called on something tomorrow, and sleep will be hard to come by, and you’ll wish you’d listened to me.” He tells you.

“You’re acting like you aren’t going to bench me, regardless of whether or not we get called on a case.” You accused of him, and he at least had the good grace to try and look sheepish. “I’m not tired. Can we just watch a movie or something?” You offered a compromise, and he nodded, leading you to the couch. 

You plopped onto the couch and picked up the remote as Aaron crossed the room to grab a throw blanket for the two of you to share. He spread the blanket across the couch and sat down, and you tucked your feet underneath you, unintentionally leaning in closer to him as you flicked the TV to a movie channel. Aaron stretched his legs out in front of him, extending one arm across the end of the sofa and the other arm around the back of it, conveniently making more space for you. As Hotch had suspected, it wasn’t long before your eyelids started to get heavy. 

“The dishes…” you mumbled sleepily. 

“I’ll take care of them.” He whispered, leaning in closer so you could hear him. 

“Later. It’s naptime,” you reminded him, your head resting against his chest in sleep. His arm came to rest across your shoulders and down your side, drawing you into him. He inhaled deeply, trying not to overthink. 

You’re her superior. His brain screamed. She loves Jack, not you. She loves Jack, but that doesn’t mean she wants to raise him. You’re too old, too cranky, too much baggage. This isn’t what you think it is. As much as he wanted to make himself believe all of that, as much as he wanted to accept that even if he knew he would go through hell and back for you, he could never have you, all he could focus on in that moment was the steady puffs of breath coming from your nose and landing on his chest. He realized, with a start, that it felt like walking into the wrong classroom your senior year of high school and locking eyes with the woman you knew you were going to marry.

  Aaron’s prediction had been correct-- Monday morning had found you jetting off to Kentucky, for the murder of three county paramedics-- by the time your plane had landed, another body had dropped. A firefighter. You all climbed into SUVs from the airstrip-- Hotch and Rossi off to examine the bodies, Morgan, JJ and Prentiss to the most recent crime scene, and you and Reid to the police station to the police station to work on the geographic profile. Normally you’d be off with Hotch and Rossi, and examining a body wasn’t technically field work, but you went with Reid with minimal pouting, knowing you were lucky that Hotch had let you leave Quantico at all.

You decided to let Reid drive, and you were fiddling with the radio when he spoke for the first time. 

“I keep… thinking about what there is to say to you, to communicate how much we’re all here for you, how much we all love you and we all want what’s best for you, and it feels like everything just falls short. I have an IQ of 187 and I still can’t find the words, but I can’t say nothing. I was scared for you. I’m proud of you, and if you need anything I just want you to know I’m here. I might not have the right words but I promise to listen, and to make sure you feel heard.” The words stumble out of Spencer awkwardly, but still strike you with their sincerity. You sniffle a little before responding. 

“I know, Reid. I know how much you all care for me. I’ve never doubted that for a second. Thank you.” You tell him, your voice thick with emotion. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I am.” You tell him with a confident nod. “Or, at least, I’m getting there. I did the hard part. I got out.” 

A few hours later, you were at the police station with Reid, narrowing the geographic profile and spitballing with victimology, when one of the local officers poked his head into your makeshift office-space. 

“Another body dropped. The town librarian.” 

“Two in one day?” You asked. 

“He’s spree killing now. He’s devolving.” Reid supplemented. 

“Do you think it was random? He was killing first responders. The librarian doesn’t fit.” 

“Could be,” Reid agreed. 

“Have you called the rest of our team?” You asked the officer. 

“Not yet.” 

“We’ll call.” You told him, and he nodded. You pulled out your phone and dialed Hotch as Reid crossed the room to call JJ. 

“Hotchner,” he said into the phone. 

“Hey, it’s me. Another body just dropped.”  

“He’s devolving.” Aaron sighed

“It was the local librarian.” 

“But he was killing--” He started, but you could hear the words he was going to say before he even thought them.

“First responders, I know.” 

Aaron let out a deep sigh. “If I take Reid off of babysitting duty, are you going to behave?” He asked. 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, but I reserve the right to bitch about it when this is over.” 

“Noted. Tell him to meet us at the next scene, please?” He asks of you.

“Will do. Stay safe out there.” 

“You too.” Hotch said before hanging up. 

You sent Reid off to meet up with Hotch, and sat back down in front of your case files and notes, determined to find something written between the lines. After a tortuously slow thirty minutes, a thought occurs to you. You step into the police bullpen and get the attention of one of the officers. 

“Hey. Does this town contract out its EMS services?” 

“No,” the officer tells you. “They’re all employed by the town. They’re paid with a mix of taxpayer and grant dollars.” 

“So they’re government employees?” 

“Yeah.” The officer confirms, and you pull your cell phone out of your pocket, heading out a side door to get a little bit of air and some better reception to call Garcia. 

“What’s new bugaboo?” Garcia asks as she picks up the phone, and you can’t help but smile. The sunshine felt warm on your face as you paced the empty back lot of the police station. 

“Hey, Garcia. Is there any way to track if anyone in town has some sort of anti-government bias?” 

“I can look for fringe political groups-- if the unsub is a member, that might help, but it would take me days to just search through every resident’s social media.” 

“That’s okay, start there. Look for white men between 23 and 45. If I think of anything else that might weed it out I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, kitten. Are we talking strict anarchists here, or should I be looking at groups like--” 

Garcia continued, but you couldn’t hear her over the sound of a gun cocking and the sensation of cold metal at the back of your head. You gasped. 

“Sweetie? Did you think of something?”

“It’s time to put the phone down.” A voice said from behind you. You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. 

“Who was that? Are you okay?” Garcia asked.

“Go on,” the voice said. “Hang up the phone. Don’t be dumb.” 

You hung up the phone without saying another word to Garcia. The man dragged his gun down your spine, resting it against the middle of your back. “To think, I came here thinking I might kill a couple of cops, and I ended up with an FBI agent. Talk about an upgrade.” You tried to subtly reach for your gun, but it was useless. He strikes you in the head with the barrel of his gun before you can react. “Come on, sweet thing. I told you not to play dumb with me.” 

“You really think you can kill an FBI agent outside of a fully staffed police station without getting caught? And you’re going to call me dumb?” You asked, hoping that he couldn’t hear the fear laced in your voice.

“Who said anything about not getting caught?” He chuckled. “We all die eventually. Might as well make it worth my while.”

tagging:  @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @wanniiieeee @hotforhotchner11  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @zheezs14​

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Not What It Seems

Summary: Colin is the sweetest man you’ve ever met and yet for some reason everybody seems suspicious of him. By befriending him you learn the hard way that there is such a thing as being too nice

Word Count: 4125 oof

Warnings: Evil Colin, murder mention, minor violence, restraint 

Colin was the most charming man you had ever met. He always held the door open for others, making sure everyone got in before he did. He brought you and Mare a coffee everyday, always remembering your order exactly and even bringing you a pastry from time to time. He stayed late to finish up paperwork, reorganized the office and even brought lunch for everyone each Friday. And yet no matter how many good things he did it seemed everyone at the station was wary of him.

You watched as he tried to get to know Mare and them better but they all kept their distance. Always making sure to never get too close to him. He tried each and every day to get Mare to open up to him, but she always shut him down. He would just brush it off with a smile and pretend it didn’t bother him. But you would see the way his smile would falter for a minute before he went back to his usual friendly demeanor.

You were the secretary for the station and you were known for your friendliness and caring nature. Sometimes a little too caring. Mare had often warned you that that was going to be your downfall one of these days. You just ignored her saying that it never hurt to be nice to anyone. So after days of watching Colin try and fail to make friends with his coworkers you decided to approach him yourself.

You came in a couple days later with a box in hand, it was green with fancy gold lettering written across the top. It was from the bakery at the edge of town, the really nice one. Everyone waited for you to place it in the break room like you usually did. But instead you walked directly towards Colin’s desk, they all watched with nervous eyes. Some even tried to stop you.

Colin had his head down, immersed in his work. He was sitting all alone in his shared office with Mare. Since he had been transferred there she worked out of the captain's office, she said something about him made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. You had just rolled your eyes and told her she was being paranoid. He didn’t even notice you until he saw your shoes stopped at his desk. He slowly looked up and you gave him one of your signature smiles. “Morning Detective.”

“Morning (y/n).” He smiled at you jutting his pen at the box in your hand. “I’m guessing you brought these to put in the break room.”

You shook your head and held the box towards him. “Actually I got them for you .”

His face split into a large smile, it was contagious and you felt yourself smile as well. “Really?” You nodded and he slowly reached his hands out and took the box, he flipped open the lid to see an array of donuts. They were all neatly placed and delicately decorated, he took one out and closed his eyes at the heavenly taste.

He looked up at you with wide eyes. “Why did you get these for me?”

“I just felt like it.” You smiled and made your way out of the office, turning back to face him once more. “Besides what are friends for.” Colin watched you as you made your way back to your desk, you caught his eyes and smiled at him. He returned it mouthing a thank you and pointing excitedly at the box.

The next day during lunch you watched Colin go around the office and offer the lunch he brought to his coworkers. He held bags of takeout towards them filled with their favorite foods urging them to take it. They all gave him a tight smile, declining his offer. After a while he gave up and sat down at an empty table with the food no one wanted. He sat alone, no one wanted to sit with him, they would come by and he’d get this hopeful look on his face but they’d just ask to borrow a chair.

“Is this seat taken?” Colin whipped his head up at hearing your voice.

“No!” He answered quickly, getting up to pull your chair out for you. You giggled and thanked him.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a takeout container, hesitantly offering it to you. “Would you maybe like some?”

“I’d love some.” At hearing your answer Colin reached into the bag and began to pull out numerous containers. He handed you a plate and watched as you took a little bit of everything, not wanting it to go to waste. You thanked him for the food and complemented how good it was. He watched you for a moment before getting some of his own and eating with you.

You talked with him as you are asking him about cases and just trivial things like his favorite color. But he ate it up telling you everything you wanted to know and asking questions of his own which you gladly answered. By the end of lunch you felt as if you had known him all your life. You thanked him and went back to your desk, you could see him return to his own large smile on his face. You glanced to the side and saw Mare staring at you. She had this warning look in her eyes, she was silently telling you that she didn’t trust him. You broke her gaze and went back to work, there was no way a man as nice as that could be bad.

For the rest of the week you noticed that Colin had shifted his attention towards you. Usually he would go around the whole office trying to talk to others, especially Mare, but now he sought only you out. He would talk to you a little more when bringing your coffee and he’d stop by during the day just to chat. He was still nervous about asking you to sit with him at lunch so you always went to ask him yourself.

At the end of lunch on Friday you moved to get up, collecting your trash and giving him a goodbye like usual. But today Colin caught your hand before you could leave. You looked at it and he quickly released you. “I’m sorry!” He quickly spit out. He watched you, you could tell he had something on his mind, the way his fingers nervously drummed on the table. After a moment he cleared his throat. “Um a buddy of mine opened up a restaurant in town and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go with me?” You thought about it for a moment, not answering right away. Colin took it as a silent no, already forming an apology in his head.

You could feel all eyes on you in the break room, you looked up and saw Mare watching you. She had heard his question and was subtly shaking her head, telling you to say no. You looked around and sure enough everyone was advising the same. You turned back to Colin, he was looking down at his shoes, fiddling with his hands in his lap. You gave a gentle smile. “I’d love to go.”

He looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, and a bright smile. “Okay, I’ll pick you up at eight tonight!” You nodded and headed back to your desk, tossing your trash in the can near the captain's office. Mare stepped out of the office and placed her hand on your shoulder. “Can I talk to you?” You nodded and she dragged you around the corner and into the stairway, away from prying eyes.

“What are you doing?” 

You raised an eyebrow at her. “I was throwing away my trash. What are you doing Mare?”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know what I mean. About Colin, why did you say yes to going out with him.”

“It’s not like it’s a date Mare.” You answered.

“Whatever, you still shouldn’t go with him.” 

“And why not?” At this point you were starting to get mad at her. You couldn't understand why everybody was so cold towards him, he had been nothing but an absolute sweetheart since he got to Easttown. “He is like the nicest man I've ever met, he wouldn't do anything bad to me.

“Yeah, a little too nice.” Mare lowered her voice. “Look I don’t trust him.”

“Mare-”

Something in her gaze changed and you quickly shut your mouth, allowing her to continue on. “There’s something off about him, one of his old coworkers called here not too long ago and told me to be wary of him. Apparently for a while he was a suspect in that girl’s case, the one from the county. They never did find anything on him and he was the one who solved the murder so all charges were dropped aganist him. But he gets really weird when I ask him about the case. I think he knows more about her disappearance than he’s letting on.”

“Mare, we don’t know for sure that he had anything to do with it.” You crossed your arms. You glanced around the wall to see Colin at his desk, he was singing along to the radio in his office while he did his paperwork. He saw you and gave you a smile, you returned it and turned back to Mare. Mare followed your gaze and saw the way his smile dropped, and how he watched her with cold eyes, trying to figure out why she had taken you to talk with you. Mare narrowed her eyes at him. “For all we know that would just be a spiteful coworker trying to stir up drama.”

“I don’t want to take any chances. I don’t want you getting hurt.” You could tell from her tone she was concerned, it was a sweet sentiment but she didn't know Colin like you did. She didn't even take the time to get to know him. 

“I can take care of myself Mare.” You gave a gentle smile. “Besides what’s the worst that could happen?”

Colin showed up at your door a half hour early ready to take you to dinner, thankfully you were already ready. You opened the door and saw him all dressed up in a suit, looking as if he was going to prom, he even had a bouquet of flowers. He looked cute, you felt a blush settle onto your face, you had never really taken the time to look at Colin before. He was quite handsome, and when he smiled and flashed his dimples you felt your knees get weak. He nervously tugged at his tie and offered you the flowers. “I got these for you.” 

“Aw you didn’t have to.”

“I know but I just felt like it.” His response was eerily similar to the one you had given when he asked you about the donuts you brought him. It made you a little uneasy but you couldn't figure out why. “Should we get going?” 

“Yea, let me just put these in some water.”

The ride to the restaurant was filled with easy chatter, things felt so comfortable between you two. About halfway there he reached his hand over to rest on your own, his fingers were trembling. You didn't read too much into the action and lightly squeezed his hand in return. At the restaurant you guys were seated right away, a treat from Colin’s buddy. You scanned the menu, trying to decide what to get, everything looked so good. Colin watched you over his menu. “So what did you and Mare talk about?” 

His question surprised you, it was so straightforward, You put down your menu to look at him. “Nothing much, just work stuff.” He responded with an amused chuckle and set his own menu down.

“You were talking about me weren’t you?” You tried playing it off and he just laughed it off. “It’s okay everyone there talks about me.” 

“That doesn't make it okay.” He just nodded his head. 

“Let me guess, she told you about me being a suspect in my last case didn't she?” 

“How did you-”

“I knew it was going to happen sooner or later. The guys back at the country never really liked me.” He said with a sad smile, his eyes not meeting yours. “It only made things worse when I got assigned to the case to help them out. I was a new detective and they were old timers, very respected. It didn't make them look good when I solved the case so they started this rumor that I solved the case so quickly because I was the one that killed her.” 

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry Colin.” 

He wet his lips, still keeping his eyes cast downward. “I was hoping when I got assigned up here it would be a fresh start, I would finally get to have some friends.” He smiled to himself for a moment, you watched his lips trembled before dipping downard. There was a loneliness in him that was evident in the way he talked about the situation. “But I guess they called and told their rumor to Mare, kinda ruined things for me.” 

You reached out and took his hand in yours, running your thumb across his hand. “You have me.” 

“And I still can’t believe it.” You took your hand back and picked up your menu again. Colin’s hand twitched, itching to chase your own to keep it near him. He picked up his own menu. “You don’t believe her do you?” 

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, his eyes were dark and unreadable. 

“You don't think I killed her?” He let out a little laugh, but stopped when he noticed you didn't answer right away. “Do you?” His face looked completely different, and the way his eyes watched you made you want to get up and leave. 

You gulped, his look making you uneasy. “No, you're the good guy, the hero detective.” You blocked what you could of your face with your menu, only letting him see your eyes. “Right?”

“Right.” His expression snapped right back to normal, his usual puppy dog eyes a complete one eighty from his previous dark look. “So what are you going to get, I think I’m gonna go with the stake.” He gave you a warm smile reaching for your hand, you flinched when it made contact. You were still rattled at how quickly he seemed to change his personality. 

“I-I think I’ll get the chicken.”

“That looked good too, I may have to steal some from ya.” He joked and you laughed along, too scared to find out what would happen if you didn't. 

You tried your best to shake off the uneasiness of what had happened. It was no more than a couple minutes long and yet the rest of the night it weighed heavy on your mind. For the rest of dinner you watch him closely, waiting to see if he would slip back into the darkness you had seen before. But he never did, he was positively pleasant. You brushed it off, you figured he was just scared that you believed that horrible rumor and that you were going to pull away from him. And who could blame him, everyone at the office treated him like he was cursed and you were the only one who talked to him. He was just scared to lose you as a friend. 

As you neared the end of dinner you seemed to forget what had happened earlier, Colin made you laugh and even treated you to dessert. By the time he dropped you off at home that eerie moment of darkness was all but forgotten. He helped you out of his car and walked you to the door. “I had a lot of fun tonight.” You felt his fingers brush against your own and you met him halfway, smiling as you noticed that his rough hands fit perfectly in your own.

“I did too. We should do it again sometime.”

“Maybe…” Colin cleared his throat, trying his best not to stumble over his words. “Maybe like a date?”

“I would love to go on like a date with you sometime.” You giggled. You moved closer and gave him a  quick kiss on his cheek before rushing inside and leaving him shocked on your porch. “Goodnight!” You heard him call out a goodnight in response before making his way back to his car. 

You guys started going out after that night, every date felt magical, and in no time you guys had come out as a couple. He was the perfect man, always surprising you with small gifts and kisses throughout the work day. You were absolutely enamored with him. Since the dinner at his buddy’s restaurant you never saw that darkness in his eyes again. But others seemed to. You usually had so many people who would stop by your desk during the day to talk with you but now no one dared to be near you. On the rare occasion someone did come to your desk to talk they excused themselves as soon as they saw Colin coming closer. Making up some excuse about having a lot of work. The only one who never backed away was Mare, even if Colin came up right behind you and held you while you were talking to her she didn't leave. She would just glare and act as if he wasn't there. She was always trying to pull you away from Colin so she could talk to you about him but you always seemed to have work to do that stopped you from chatting with her for too long. 

As time went on Colin seemed to get even more attached to you, at times even working from your desk, not wanting to leave you alone for too long. One morning after he went out to get coffee for you two he came back to see someone sitting at your desk. It was the postman, he usually delivered the mail and then left but in seeing Colin wasn't there he had stopped to talk with you. You were laughing at something he said and you placed your hand on his forearm. Mare watched as Colin squeezed the coffee cups so hard they crumbled in his hands, the liquid spilling onto the floor. His eyes were dark, but the minute you saw him he made up some excuse about the coffee spilling. She narrowed her eyes watching him politely shake the guy's hand and talk with him like nothing was wrong, when a moment before he looked ready to kill him. 

Coin Watched him leave before turning to face you a sweet smile on his lips. “Who was that?”

“You know Kevin, he delivers the mail.”

Colin sat down at your desk, fiddling with one of the many knick knacks that decorated it. “You seemed friendly with him.” 

You didn't pick up on his accusation. “I’ve known him since high school, we dated for a while actually.” You let out a laugh and so did Colin, but it sounded hollow compared to yours. 

“Hey would you maybe like to come to my house for dinner tonight? I’ll cook and maybe you can bring dessert.”

“Yeah that sounds perfect.” Colin smiled at your answer and got up to go back to his own desk. 

“Perfect.” 

 That night you arrived wearing your nicest outfit and knocked on the door. “Come in!” Colin called out. You opened the door and it let out an ominous creak. It was dark, you squinted trying to make out your surroundings. You hung up your coat and set down the cake you had baked on the kitchen counter. You smiled to yourself at the dinner that he had setup, you looked around but Colin was nowhere to be seen. You saw the wine glasses that were set up, you took a drink from the glass in front of your plate. You noticed that it burned your throat slightly more than usual, you took another sip before calling out for him. 

“I’m in the basement! I’m trying to find the lighter, can you come and help me?”

You walked through his house not giving it a second thought, your head feeling a little fuzzy. You walked down the stairs and made it to the bottom, still no sign of Colin. You noticed the bed that was there, along with a number of other things. The longer you looked the more you noticed everything was tailored to what you liked. The door slammed above you and you turned to run but were stopped by a tight grip on your arm. They spun you around and pressed your back into the wall. Your eyes widened as you saw who was the one attacking you. Colin gave you a soft smile, “What? He asked. “You didn't see that coming?” You struggled against his hold but found that you felt weak. He gently caressed your cheek, watching as you fighting ceased, your limbs feeling heavier “I see you drank the wine I left you. I added something a little extra just for you.” He picked you up and you beat your fist against his chest as hard as you could, it had little impact on him. He just brushed your hand away and laid you down on the bed. He bound your wrists and you began to cry. “Nononono don’t cry.” he cooed, brushing away your tears. “It’s temporary, until you learn your place.” 

“Why are you doing this?” You cried out. 

He kneeled down by your head. “So you won’t leave me like she did.” 

‘She?”

“The girl from my case.” Your eyes widened. 

“You killed her?” You whispered out. 

 “I didn't want to. She was the first person I had been with after my engagement ended. She was so nice and warm but then she tried to leave. I had to kill her. She didn't leave me a choice, she had fallen in love with someone else. I couldn't go through that again. I couldn't.” He was crying at this point. “All I wanted was her to stay with me and I didn’t mean to, I just saw her with him and the next thing I knew she was dead.” Tears continued streaming down his face as he finished tying you to the bed. “But it’s okay cause now I have you.” He gave you a smile, you felt your insides churn at the sight of it.

“You didn't have to do this!” You yelled pulling at the ropes. “I  wasn’t going to leave you!” 

“But eventually you were! I knew sooner or later you would find someone better than me. Like Kevin. I saw the way you talked with him today.” His smile faltered before picking back up. “Everything was going so well and he had to ruin it. He was going to take you away. But don’t worry now nothing will come between us.” 

“You're crazy!” You cried out. 

“Only for you darling.” He pressed a light kiss to your cheek and you turned your face away.

Colin made his way back up the stairs and locked the basement door behind him. He slipped the chain the key was on back over his head, hiding it below the hem of his shirt. 

He dumped your wine out and refilled the glass as he sipped from his own. He glanced at the clock noticing the time, he turned the radio up. The basement was pretty sound proof already but you could never be too careful. His mom opened the door to the house carrying in groceries. “Hey Colin I’m home.”

“Hey mom.”

She glanced  at the already set table and the steaming food that he had already prepared. “You made dinner for me. And you even baked a cake for dessert.” She set the stuff in her hands down, slightly pinching his cheek. “Such a good boy.” He smiled and sat down across from her. As they started to say grace there was a thud. She paused her prayer and opened her eyes, raising an eyebrow at him. “Did you hear something?”

“Not a thing.”

Taglist: @anonymushhy @chiswritingandreadingcorner @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @xmaximoffic @livingmybestfictionallife @evanmybeloved @kaismessiahbb

[headinthestaticsky]

The Dusk Comes for me: Jasper Hale x My OC Fleur Swan, Chapter 4

Warnings: Moments of violence, cussing

AUTHORS NOTES: None of the characters in Twilight belong to me. All rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

 Sorry if you find anything misspelled or out of place. I proof read these chapters 3 times I still find things wrong with it.

“I'm alone, look at the sky, my dear. I am not every falling star make a wish every time I leave so we can love until infinity.” I'm Waiting Here by Lykke Li and David Lynch

One minute I was I sleeping with Jasper in my room and the next it seemed I was in a unfamiliar location. My movements were not at will, my feet pounded against the steel floor. It was as if I was chasing someone, I soon caught a glimpse of who it was. It looked like a security guard as I was running I noticed a sign on the wall “Grimsham.” Grimsham, that’s in Mason County. What am I doing in Mason County? Two men had ran ahead of me eager to catch the man. The two men looked unfamiliar to me, I was sure I had never seen them before. The security guard had made it outside just about to get out of the area when the man with long blonde hair caught him taking him down to the ground. They then began to feed on him, They were vampires that explained the speed. But why was I moving so fast though? My uncontrolled movements moved toward the man about to start feeding on him. It was then that I noticed that I was not in my body. My “hands” looked far to pale to be my own. Before I could see who the woman was I jumped up, gasping for air. I looked around the room, Jasper was gone. 

For once I was thankful about him not being there. I didn’t need him stressing out about something that I was a dream. I stretched and got up quickly getting ready for school as I slept in a bit too long. I went for a white lace long sleeved shirt and black jeans with the same ankle boots that I've owned for 4 years. I grabbed an apple since I didn’t have much time to eat. Just as I had closed the door I saw Bella slips on a big patch of ice. I held in a laugh wanting to be a little nicer today. I saw dad pull up in her truck and quickly help her up.

“Geez are you okay Bells?” He asked.

“Yeah, ice doesn’t exactly help the uncoordinated.” She replied.

“Well I put new tires on your truck since the old ones were getting pretty bald.” 

“Oh thanks dad.”

“I’ll put the chains on your tires tomorrow okay Petal?” 

“That’s fine dad, thank you.”

“I’m gonna be late for dinner today. I’ll be working overtime.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Well, a security guard  that works at Grimsham Mills down in Mason county got attacked by some animal.” He explained.

“Oh.” Was all I could say. My heart dropped down into my stomach I didn’t know what else to say. This couldn’t have been a coincidence, no way it couldn’t of been. But, I wasn’t a vampire how could I have predicted this. My mind was racing. Dad seemed to have noticed my distant look on my face.

“Are you okay Petal? You’re looking kinda pale there.” He asked

“Oh yeah I’m fine sorry my mind wandered. Be careful down there dad.” I replied.

“Yeah be careful dad.” Bella said.

“I always am. love you guys.”

“Love you too.”

These past few days have been pretty tense. Bella was of course on even more edge than usual as Edward hadn’t been showing up to school. Every time I pulled into the back of the lot and joined the rest of the Cullens I could feel Bella’s eyes burn at the back of my skull. I didn’t dare to look back, thinking I might combust into flames if I even glanced at her for a second. 

Today seemed to be one of those days. Jasper and I began to walk up the stairs toward the school. He suddenly stopped and turned around glaring back at her. Bella faltered and turned around quickly, seemingly intimidated by his harsh glare.

“You didn’t have to do that you know that right? I can handle my bony twin sister.”

“I felt like I had to darlin, her emotions were starting to give me a migraine.” 

“Aww, I’m sorry love.” I said I then pecked his lips.

“Edwards suppose to be back to though right?”

“Yes, he is he’s just running late.”

“Oh okay. Maybe him being back will calm her down.”

“Hopefully, now come on, we have a history test to take.”

“Ugh, why would you remind me about that now I got a migraine.” I said.

He chuckled before dragging me to class. As much as I wanted to focus on my test I just couldn’t. That dream kept filling my head after every questions I read. 

“Who was America named after?”

“Where is the Hudson River located at?”

“Name differences between federalist and anti-federalist.”

I just couldn’t formulate a full answer without drifting back to the dream. The three people ravaged that poor security guard and I was in one of those monsters bodies. Am I connected to them in someway or was this really just a dream? For my sanity and racing heart I just came to the conclusion it was. I just barely finished that history test before the time had run out. I finally lifted my head to see Jasper looking at me, worry etched all over his chiseled face. I couldn’t be helping his migraine at all. I grabbed his hand and led him out of the classroom. English and Calculus went by quickly and I was soon back at lunch. Bella hadn’t been glaring at me from across the room today. Jasper must’ve of scared her a bit. It was nice to get a break from the constant looks of pure hatred. I was working on an essay about the Scarlet Letter for English and Jasper had left to take a quick walk. As soon as he left Rosalie had tapped my shoulder.

“Hey are you okay? You’ve seemed kinda off this morning, Jasper’s starting to notice it too. She asked.

“No, I’m not.”

Alice and Dean’s interest had peaked and listened in on our conversation.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen to you?”

“No, not exactly. I just had a really bad nightmare. It was like I was in on the attack, It wasn’t me me though I was in someone elses body. I helped with the attack I was chasing that poor man with two other men.” 

“That’s strange, no wonder you’ve been out of it all morning.” Rosalie said.

“But it gets even worse, dad told me today he had to go down to Mason county because a security guard got attack by an animal. It was the same place in my dream.”

Rosalie, Emmett, Dean, and Alice looked shocked not exactly knowing what to say.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” Rosalie said.

“Yeah don’t worry about it short-stack.”

“Yeah, you guys are right I need to stop worrying. I just can’t help it. It felt so real to me.”

“We’ll check out the area if that makes you feel better.” Alice suggested.

“I couldn’t ask you guys to do that but, thank you for the offer.”

“It wouldn’t be much trouble.” Dean said.

“No really I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Rosalie asked.

“Yeah it’s okay, can we just keep this between us for now.

“Don’t worry, We won’t tell anyone else.” Rosalie said.

“Thank you.”

Jasper had returned to the table putting his arm around my should and kissing my head. I noticed he had someone else with him, that person being Edward. 

“Been a while Edward, are you feeling better?”

“Yes, I feel a lot better.”

“Good.”

I then took Jasper’s hand feeling more content. It felt nice to tell somebody else about my dream. It was like a weight fell off my shoulders and my heart had returned to it’s normal pace. After Art and Calculus I made my way out of the building ready to head back home. Hopefully Bella would be in a better mood I didn’t want to fight today. I felt my arm being tugged on to turn me around... I of course knew who it was I guess him being back didn’t help he much. 

“Yes, Bella?” I asked in a calm tone.

“Look I know you’re around the Cullens all the time what’s going on with Edward!? She demanded.

“I don’t know.” I lied.

“Don’t lie to me! How stupid do you think I am? Everything was going fine in Biology and then when I asked about his eyes he freaked out again.” 

I held in a comment I didn’t want this to escalate.

“I am not lying Bella I don’t what is going on we never talk much.”

“Oh don’t give me that load of crap! Tell that freak of a boyfriend of yours to stop glaring at.”

“He can look where ever he wants to and he is not a freak. Don’t start something you can’t finished Bella. It won’t end well for you.” I said and started to walk away. 

“Oh no your not, you’re not going to walk away from me again!.”

Before I could say anything else I heard the screeching of a van. It was heading right towards us. I pushed Bella out of harms ways as much as I wanted to rip her head off I wouldn’t let her get crushed by a van. But I didn’t have enough time to move myself. I put my hands up knowing that it would help the impact but, my instincts just told me to do that. I was suddenly knocked down hitting my head on the pavement. I looked up with blurry eyes to see Jasper holding me and stopping the van. My breath was stuttering I didn’t know what to do.

“Are you okay darlin? I feel pain.” He asked he amber eyes filled with worry.

“I’m fine. You need to go though you can get caught. We don’t need anyone getting suspicious about you guys.” I said.

He nodded, kissed my head then left. I was suddenly surrounded by students all of them shouting to call 911.

“Oh my gosh Fleur!”

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m calling 911 now.”

“I’m sorry Fleur I tried to stop!” I heard Tyler say, he had a cut on the side of his head

My head started spinning so I laid down before I closed my eyes though I saw Bella's face for once she didn’t look at me with hatred but, shock and worry.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬1

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death [other warning to be added throughout series]

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So i just worked my ass off and retail is always crummy this time of year so I’m gonna escape with some sweet Arvin Russell writing. 

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The spring air was warm as the breeze swept over the low fence and fluttered the tails of shirts hung across the line. You grabbed two pegs and a swathe of damp fabric and stretched it over the cord, pinning it in place before moving along. Your old machine had taken much of the day to wrangle and had even received a kick. It was decades old, an heirloom inherited with the old country house and much more clunky than the modern machines. Not many in the county had anything more than the old wringing machines.

Roy would be home soon. Your husband hated to hear about how the wringer jammed so easily and the fear that your fingers might again be bruised by the mechanism. Even so, you were certain it wouldn't last for much longer. It's rattles foretold its imminent fate. You'd be back to a bucket and board soon enough.

As you hung the last piece, Roy's oil stained overalls, you heard the putter of the truck. You picked up the woven basket and headed for the gate along the front of the house. You waved as he pulled up, tires loudly mulching the dirt, and you stopped short as he came to a jagged halt. He wasn't alone and you were stillwearing your grimy and wet apron.

Roy pushed his door open so roughly it creaked. He stepped out and gave an exaggerated stretch as he glanced across the roof of the truck and slammed the door.

"Don't forget your bag, boy," he growled at the other man as he felt around the chest pocket of his overall for his smokes. "Looks like you're too late for laundry day."

"Roy?" You unclasped the gate and opened it as Roy stomped across the gravel and lit up a smoke, "How was your day?" 

You peeked over at the other man who climbed out of the truck. He wore similar overall, though they were unbuttoned over a greasy white shirt, and he was shorter and thinner than your husband. He reached back into the truck and grabbed a long military style duffel before he swung the door shut. 

Your husband grumbled and blew out a mouthful of smoke.

"We have a guest?" You asked as you stayed by the gate.

"Arvin Russell," Roy flicked the ash away, "You remember I was talkin' 'bout renting out the attic."

"Um, yes," you blinked as the other man, Arvin, neared meekly. Roy had mentioned the idea once when he noticed the way his truck had started rumbling.  "It'll need a good dusting."

"So you better get on that." Roy coughed. "What's for dinner?"

"Meatloaf," you answered and turned back to smile at the other man as he bowed his head and passed through the gate.

"Hello, missus," he said kindly, "Nice to meet ya. I work with your husband, says you're a fine cook."

"The one thing she can do," Roy muttered as he ambled up the steps of the porch and dropped onto the bench sat by the window. "You go grab us some bottles."

You closed the gate behind Arvin but he waited for you to precede him before going any further. He was surprisingly polite for any man who worked at the shop. 

"Yes, Roy," you hid your disappointment. Those nights when Roy started drinking before dinner rarely ended well.

"Can I just have some water?" Arvin asked as he followed you onto the porch, "Please. I didn't get to my lunch today so I'm not really feeling like drinking."

"Of course," you said, "If you're hungry, I got a box of crackers and some cheese I can bring out."

"Thank you but I'd hate to spoil dinner." Arvin sat on the end of the bench and kept his bag between his feet as Roy threw away his cigarette. "Thank you both for having me."

You nodded and quickly skirted inside. You were a bit confounded by Roy's sudden burst of generosity. He rarely did anything for anyone else. To think he'd offer a room to a coworker was unlike him.

You went to the old fridge, marked with dings and dents, and wiggled the handle until it opened. You remember the day you Pa had broken the handle, he'd always promised to fix it but had only managed to make it worse. You missed him. It was easy to miss him in this old place. His wedding present to you and Roy. It was too tragic he hadn't lived long enough to see you enjoy it.

You grabbed a brown bottle then filled a tall glass from the tap. You went back to the door and opened it with your elbow. You handed Roy his beer as Arvin stood to accept his glass of water.

"Thank you," he chimed but your husband only popped the cap of his beer with his teeth and glared out at the yard.

"Well dinner is in the oven still. I'll just be finishing that before I get started in the attic." You told Roy but he only shrugged and gulped down the beer. "Let me know if you boys need anything." 

"Peace and quiet," Roy snarled. "S'all I need right now."

Arvin gave a sympathetic look and traced his thumb along the side of the glass. You hid your discomfort and retreated inside. That was just Roy. He was always in a mood after work. An hour or two and he would mellow out. The beer would surely help.

🚬

When you finished supper, you called the men in to eat. Roy started his second beer as Arvin remained quiet and awkward at the table. You didn’t say much as you pondered the work still left to be done. You had to tidy the attic before the night ended and collect the laundry from the line. You would also have to clear the table and clean up the mess of your cooking.

You stood before the men finished. You scraped your untouched scraps into the dish of leftovers and placed the glass lid on it. You scoured the loaf pan as you listened to the clink of cutlery on plates and set the pots on the drying rack. You returned to the men to gather their empty dishes and Arvin thank you as Roy belched and stood with a satisfied but gruff rumble.

Arvin watched you as you tried to ignore the pity in his face. You knew your husband wasn’t the most loving or vocal, but he was yours and he worked hard. You turned away and went back to the kitchen. You finished washing the last of the glassware and dried it before stacking it in the cupboards.

As you passed through the dining room, Arvin was gone and you could hear the buzz of the radio from the front room. Roy always liked to listen to the game after he ate. Sometimes you sat with him and crocheted or read but not often.

You tiptoed upstairs and found the footstool hidden in the bottom of the linen closet. You climbed onto the step and reached up to unhook the cord of the attic door. It dangled down and you pulled it carefully as you backed off the stool and kicked it away. The steps unfolded and you barely stepped out of the way of their descent as the heavy wood thumped against the carpet.

It had been a while since you ventured up to the third floor. There was only dust and forgotten memories up there. You slowly made your way up and sneezed as you reached the top. A wall of boxes blocked the window along the front of the house and shrouded furniture sat beneath grimy sheets.

You started with the boxes. You took one and peeked under the flaps. Some old oil lamps hoarded by your father from his own parents. You awkwardly made your way back down to the second floor and placed the box at the bottom. When you had them all down, you’d take them into your father’s old room to store. Perhaps you should sort through them at last and get rid of the unneeded artifacts.

You were six boxes deep when you were startled by a shadow in the open hatch. You exclaimed and nearly dropped your armful as Arvin poked his head through and peered over at you.

“Arvin,” you gasped. “My apologies, this place is a mess.”

“Not so bad,” he climbed up and stood, “You need some help?”

“Don’t be silly, I can manage--”

“You’re right. It’s a mess,” he insisted, “A lot for just one person.”

You stared at him and gave a small smile. He was funny. He neared you and reached out for the box in your arms.

“How about this, I’ll stay on the ladder and you bring the boxes to me and I’ll take ‘em down.” He took the box gently from you, “It’ll be much quicker.”

You looked into his soft brown eyes and let him. He backed away and cautiously made his way down the ladder. You turned and grabbed another box and he reappeared through the hatch. You handed him the box of figurines and he retreated once more. You carried on and soon, the boxes were stacked high on the lower floor.

“Alright,” Arvin climbed up and dusted off his hands, “Already lookin’ better.”

He neared the old sofa against the wall and pulled off the sheet. He coughed as the dust was kicked up and it soon turned into a chuck as he waved away the cloud.

“We can keep this here,” he draped the sheet over his arm and pulled the next from the tall lamp with the glass shade, “Move this into the corner,” he continued on and peeked under a sheet before unveiling the tall shelf, “If you don’t mind, of course?”

“Not at all. We should’ve sold all this years ago.” You teetered on your heels anxiously. Every piece reminded you of your father. “There’s a cot folded up over there,” you pointed behind a hidden end table, “But that wouldn’t be much better than the floor.”

“It’ll do,” he assured you and turned to sit on the sofa. He bounced as he hugged the sheets. “This isn’t too bad.”

“Well, there’s a bed down in my pa’s room. We could try to bring it up tomorrow. If you don’t mind offerin’ a little more help.” You wrung your hands. You were never very good with strangers and Roy’s friends often weren’t much nicer than him. You were tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I think I could do that,” he stood and wiggled his nose as a sneeze threatened. “You got a broom? Maybe a duster?”

“You’ve done enough, I can finish it--”

“Ma’am, I’m a guest in your home. I might be paying for the room but it doesn’t make you my maid,” he intoned, “You’ve already done more than enough. I don’t think I’ve eaten so well since before my momma died.”

“Oh, I’m… sorry,” you uttered. “I--”

“Now, don’t be sorry,” he cooed, “Nothing to be sorry for. I assume you lost your daddy if his bed is free.” 

You nodded dumbly and blinked.

“Well, at least let me take these,” you reached for the sheets and he hesitated before he let you take them. You struggled to keep them balled up and hugged them against your hip as you turned back to the hatch. “I’ll bring you the broom.”

“Thank you,” he said behind you and you looked back at him as you took your first step down the ladder, “You let me know when you bring that washin’ in and I’ll help you fold.”

“You don’t have to--”

“I want to. Makes me feel a little better about stealin’ your attic,” he assured you.

You looked down and slowly descended. As your feet met the carpet, you sighed and looked around at the boxes. You couldn’t remember a time Roy had ever offered to help with anything. If it wasn’t to do with his truck, he couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger.

🚬

You were completely drained by the time you retired to your bedroom. You were still on edge, your exhaustion laced with anxiety as you unbuttoned your blouse. You sat on the side of the bed as you slowly undressed. It was still absurd to you that another person, barely more than a stranger, was living in your home. In your father’s house.

It changed your whole routine. You couldn’t help but go over it in your mind. That meant three plates, not two, for every meal, that meant the laundry basket would fill up quicker, than meant the shoes tracks in the front entrance would need to be mopped up more often. That mean you had to act like your marriage was truly happy.

You pulled on your night gown, the short sleeves tickled your upper arms as you dropped your clothes in the wicker basket on your chest of drawers. A framed photo of your parents’ wedding day sat beside it and on the shelf beside the door, was your own wedding portrait.

Three years wasn’t so long but it felt an eternity. You couldn’t quite recall when Roy had changed. When the beer had started to taint his kisses and his words. When all pretense fell away and only the man remained. The brutish country boy with the churlish demeanour.

Maybe the first day of your marriage. Maybe. You were so nervous on your wedding night that it angered him. You’d mend your dress one day, hopefully when you had a daughter of your own so you had something to promise her. 

Or maybe a week after the wedding, when you broke the vase gifted to you upon your nuptials and it shattered across the floor. Roy’s booming voice and his boulder-like fists.

Maybe, maybe, maybe, a month in when the world went black with his hand on your throat and you awoke alone on the kitchen floor.

Maybe a year when your finger was dislocated by a slammed door. Maybe the next year when you couldn’t sit for the pain in your hips. Maybe the one after when he’d grown impatient for a child only to find your sheets soaked in blood. 

Maybe it had always been there, from the first date, but you’d simply refused to accept it. Not you. Not Roy. You loved him and he loved you, didn’t he?

The door slammed and shook you from your sombre recollections. You looked up as Roy stumbled in. He snickered darkly as your eyes met his and his legs wobbled beneath him drunkenly.

You slid off the bed and turned to plant your elbows on the mattress. A prayer before bed, as your grandmother had taught you. Another sarcastic chuckle aimed in your direction as Roy’s stained white tee missed the basket.

“On your knees for me already,” he sat beside your elbow as he unbuckled his belt.

You couldn’t focus on your inner recitation. You could smell the alcohol on him, the stench of oil and his sweat. You clutched your hands together and cleared your throat.

“Why didn’t you call me?” You asked calmly.

He frowned and stood to shove his pants past his knees. He kicked the jeans away and fell heavily back to the bed.

“Call you?” He sneered.

“To let me know about our guest?” You wondered innocently. “I could’ve readied for him better.”

“Workin’,” he growled. “I don’t got time to be callin’ you with my head under an engine. Fuckin’ Christ.”

“There isn’t a bed in the attic.” You said.

“So. Arv’s small enough. I’ve seen him sleep on a stool.” Roy spat. 

You hid your chagrin behind your hands as you pressed them to your lips.

“Why’d you bring him?”

Roy’s nostrils flared and a fist formed atop his hairy thigh. “I gotta explain to you?” He snapped. “He paid me outright and he been sleepin’ at the motel since he started.”

“Mr. Dace has a room--”

“Mr. Dace lives twice as far as we do. I did the kid a favour. He saved my ass his first day.” Roy stomped his foot. “Woulda burned down the whole garage if he hadn’t caught that leak.”

“Kid? He that young?”

“Couple years younger than you, I s’pose, maybe less,” Roy rubbed his cheeks and shook his head, “What’s it matter to you?”

“Curious,” you said quietly and closed your eyes as you rested your chin on your knuckles.

Roy was quiet. He let out a long, thick breath and the bed jolted beneath your arms.

“You finished bleeding?” He asked gruffly. 

“I’m praying, Roy,” you insisted.

“How long’s it take you? I’m sure God’s heard it all before.”

“Don’t talk like that, R--”

You squeaked as he grabbed your wrist and wrenched your arms away. He rose and lifted you with him. Always a strong man, he moved you like a puppet to his will. He took your other wrist and pulled you against him.

“You know, I don’t even care if you’re bleeding.” He turned you and shoved you onto the bed. You cried out as you bounced so hard you bit your tongue.

“Roy, please, I’m tired,” you stared up at him fearfully as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. You could taste blood.

“You’re my wife. You do your duty.” He pushed his underwear down as his cock twitched. “You got energy to wash all them clothes, you can lay on your back for your husband.”

“Roy--”

“Shut up!” He shouted. “We got company. I don’t need ya keepin’ him up with your whining.”

You closed your eyes as he fell onto you. He crushed you beneath him as he tugged your skirt up harshly. He pushed your legs apart with his knee and you braced yourself for his painful intrusion. Even so long into the marriage, you had never grown used to his touch.

He retracted his hand and began to touch himself. He stroked his cock as he swore under his breath.

“Fuck. Come on.” He moved his hand quicker and rubbed his soft tip against your folds. “Open up.” 

He forced his dick against your entrance and tried to push inside. He was still half-flaccid and struggled to get further than an inch. You balled your hands and sank your head into the mattress as he thrust. He fell out of you, softer than before.

You opened your eyes sat up on his knees and looked down at his limp dick. He gritted his teeth as you watched him.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” he punched your stomach as hard as he could and you wheezed as you folded in on yourself. “Can’t even keep me hard.”

“Roy--” You hissed. “I’m s--”

“One more word and you’ll be real sorry.” He pushed himself from between your legs, making certain to pinch you as he did.

He stood and turned. You barely moved out of the way before he sprawled over his side of the mattress. You held your stomach, a painful pressure lodge there, and rolled to the edge of the bed. You reached over and pulled the chain on the lamp. 

As you laid back, Roy caught the back of your neck and kept you in a painful limbo.

“On the floor,” he jarred your neck as he tried to throw you off the bed. “Like the dog you are.”

You slid off the side and landed sharply on your knees. You stifled a shameful sob and lowered yourself down onto your side. You bent your knees and cushioned your head on one arm. You stared into the void beneath the bed as the frame groaned beneath Roy’s heavy body.

“Goddamn bitch,” he uttered groggily. “Fuckin’--”

His words turned to snores as he finally drowned in his bellyful of beer. You listened to his jagged, drunken breaths as you shivered on the cold wood. You closed your eyes and recalled the first night you’d slept on the floor. You’d been in much poorer shape and it had been the dead of winter.

At least, you didn’t have to sleep next to him.

[onlydylanobrien]

Dylan O'Brien - NME Magazine Interview

Dylan O’Brien: “I was in this transitional phase – close to a quarter-life crisis”

From YA heartthrob to legitimate leading man – how the 'Maze Runner' star hit his stride after a whirlwind decade

Definitely!” hoots Dylan O’Brien when NME asks if he still has to audition. “I’m not Tom fucking Hanks, bro.” He’s clearly amused by our question, but forgive us for thinking the 29-year-old actor gets cast on reputation alone. A decade into his career, and he’s making an impressive transition from teen TV star and YA franchise hero to charismatic leading man.

New York-born O’Brien cut his teeth on MTV’s hit Teen Wolf series, before landing the lead in the Maze Runner film trilogy based on James Dashner’s hugely popular novels. Leading a band of bright young things that included ex-Skins tearaway Kaya Scodelario, Game Of Thrones’ Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Will Poulter, he honed his craft while racking up nearly a billion dollars at the box office. “My career is a constant acting class,” says O’Brien. “To be able to do the Maze Runner movies simultaneously with Teen Wolf was amazing in terms of getting in reps and working my [acting] muscle.”

Now for the sometimes tricky bit. Many actors struggle with the post-breakout period, but O’Brien is making it look easy so far. This year’s Netflix hit Love and Monsters proved he can carry an old-school family adventure, and new film Flashback (out next week) reveals an appetite for weirder, more cerebral work. He stars as Fred Fitzell, a young man reluctant to buckle down to life as a nine-to-fiver with a boring corporate job and a long-term girlfriend (Mindhunter‘s Hannah Gross). When he runs into a freaky-looking acquaintance from his teenage years, Fred becomes obsessed with finding an old high-school friend he used to drop a mind-bending experimental drug called Mercury with. It’s difficult to say any more without entering spoiler territory, but Flashback is a wild ride underpinned by the idea that we can exist in several realities at once. Even if you follow every plot twist, you might not fully understand the end. “Oh, it’s definitely a headfuck,” O’Brien agrees. “There’s not totally an answer to figure out. There’s a lot of different things that people can take from it.”

Speaking over Zoom from his LA home, O’Brien is bright, thoughtful and really good fun to talk to, especially when he relaxes into the interview, but he clearly knows where his line between public and private lies. When he first read the Flashback script, written by the film’s director Christopher MacBride, his “mind was blown” by just how much he related to Fred. “I felt like I was in this transitional phase of my life that was, you know, sort of close to a quarter-life crisis type thing,” he says. “For whatever reason, it was like me and this script were meant to be. I remember reading it and thinking: ‘I am this guy right now.'”

“There were a lot of things in my personal life that were neglected for a while”

When we ask why O’Brien felt as though he had reached a “transitional phase”, he gives an answer that’s vague but not exactly evasive. For understandable reasons, he doesn’t mention the incredibly traumatic motorcycle accident he sustained while shooting the final Maze Runner film in March 2016. O’Brien suffered severe trauma to the brain and said in 2017 that he underwent extensive facial reconstructive surgery after the accident “broke most of the right side of my face”. Tellingly, he’s never really revealed what happened on set or how it affected him.

Today, O’Brien dances around the details of the accident and other issues he was dealing with at the time, but doesn’t shy away from discussing his inner conflict. “You know, it was a lot of personal things combined with at-a-point-in-my-career things,” he says after a brief pause. He says he’d have been going through some of this stuff anyway, simply because of his age, but it sounds as though success intensified it all. “It was like this whole fucking storm of shit,” he continues. “I was simultaneously so fulfilled and happy about these, like, otherworldly and surreal things that I had experienced in terms of where my career had brought me. I had all this confidence and fulfilment and beautiful people [in my life] – such amazing things to experience at a young age. But at the same time, there were a lot of things in my personal life that were unchecked and sort of neglected for a while.”

O’Brien says that in time, he realised he had to “stop for a second” and “re-explore how I wanted my life to look going forward”. In fairness, you can see why he needed a breather: his career took off while he was still a teenager. After his family moved from New Jersey to Los Angeles County when he was 12, O’Brien contemplated a career as a sports broadcaster – his Twitter bio still bills him as a “no longer suffering Mets fan” – then began posting YouTube videos as moviekidd826. A funny, slickly edited skit titled ‘How to Prepare for the SAT in 45 seconds’, shared when he was just 17, shows he was a born performer and storyteller. YouTube success led to him getting a manager, but his breakthrough role in Teen Wolf still came out of the blue. At the time, he was treading water at a local community college and taking auditions on the side.

Still, he has since taken a rather fatalistic view of this career-making moment. “It’s totally weird because, when I think about it now, I don’t see how it could have happened any other way. I can’t picture myself doing anything else now,” he told Collider in 2011. “It was really sudden and a little random, and not provoked by anything. It was just out of nowhere. It wasn’t my intentional doing.” Today, O’Brien summarises his skyscraper career trajectory succinctly. “I guess I just graduated high school and started acting,” he says. “And then I felt like I was just flying by the seat of my pants and never got a chance to stop.” Thankfully, straight-out-the-blocks Hollywood success hasn’t taken away his sense of perspective. When I say how easy social media makes it to compare yourself unfavourably to others, O’Brien jumps in: “Yeah, that’s very true. I was watching the Billie Eilish doc the other day, and I was like, I’ve done nothing. I’m not an artist at all!”

“No one thought ‘Love and Monsters’ was going to be good!”

O’Brien is also self-deprecating when he talks about being cast in Flashback, suggesting it happened because he had such an intense connection with Fred. “I was honestly like, ‘Who is watching me right now?’ That is the best way I can describe how I was feeling when I came across this script,” he says. “Chris [MacBride, director] and I had this conversation that went so well in terms of [my] understanding this script that I think he’d sent around a lot and [that] very commonly wasn’t understood. I think Chris has even said that the night before shooting, he suddenly had this thought, like, ‘Wait, do I even think he’s a good actor?'”

Though O’Brien has firmly ring-fenced elements of his private life, he’s actually pretty frank about his acting vehicles. He readily admits he was expecting a snobbish response to Love and Monsters, a CGI-heavy hybrid of post-apocalyptic action and romcom that dropped on Netflix in April and topped the streamer’s daily most-watched list. “It means so much that Love and Monsters has gotten the response that it’s gotten,” O’Brien says. “No one thought this movie was going to be good.” His blunt honesty makes me laugh out loud. “No one did though!” he says in response. “And so, fuck that. You know, most of the people who say something to me about the movie, they’re like: ‘I watched Love and Monsters, and it was… good?’ And honestly, that just cracks me up.” For obvious reasons, we hastily decide not to share our response to the film – namely, that it was a whole lot better than expected.

In Love and Monsters, O’Brien plays Joel, a survivor of a so-called “monsterpocalypse” that has bumped humans to the bottom of the food chain. Though he’s known in his colony as a bit of a coward, Joel sets off on a treacherous 80-mile journey to find his high school sweetheart Aimee (Iron Fist‘s Jessica Henwick), which means evading the hungry clutches of various supersize grizzlies including a giant monster-frog hiding in a suburban pond. It’s a simple but pretty out-there premise that wouldn’t work if O’Brien’s performance was even slightly condescending. Instead, his unselfconscious sincerity really sells a film that has as much in common with the family-oriented Robin Williams movie Night at the Museum as darker fare like The Walking Dead.

His obvious affection for the project really comes across during our interview today. “When I read the script, I just thought it was so sweet and funny and smart and unique, but at the same time reminiscent of all these movies that don’t really get made any more,” he says. That’s a fair point: Love and Monsters is neither a fail-safe superhero movie nor a slice of classy Oscar bait. “And when they were talking about how to market this movie, it was so funny hearing all these conversations like, ‘How do we actually get people to watch it?'” he adds. “But that’s a big part of the reason I wanted to do this movie: because it felt like something I missed seeing.”

“I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who want to make something out of love”

So in a way, Love and Monsters was a risk for an actor seeking to establish himself outside of a bankable movie franchise and a hit TV show. O’Brien has only made four films since his final Maze Runner outing in 2018, and insists he hasn’t been tactical with his choices. “I don’t have anyone saying, ‘We need to get you in an Oscar vehicle’, or any of that kind of shit,” he says. “I’m really lucky to be surrounded by people who think like me: that you should do what you’re drawn to, and make something out of love.”

He’s recently finished shooting a mysterious crime thriller called The Outfit in London with Mark Rylance. Directed and co-written by Graham Moore, who won an Oscar for his screenplay to Alan Turing biopic The Imitation Game, O’Brien calls it “quite possibly one of the most special pieces of writing I’ve ever experienced”. He first read the script on a plane and says he “actually stood up and clapped” when he got to the end. Considering O’Brien probably wasn’t flying Ryanair, this reaction presumably attracted a few baffled glances.

Anyway, it must be pretty intimidating walking onto set with Rylance, a multi-award-winning actor revered by his peers – Al Pacino once said he “speaks Shakespeare as if it was written for him the night before” – but it sounds as though O’Brien took it all in stride. He says he’s confident in his abilities, but admits to having a slight wobble whenever he begins a new project. “I’m always sort of re-questioning everything – like, ‘Can I even act?'” he says. “But I think there’s something very natural about that. I think even Rylance could relate to that feeling. Acting is like starting a new year at school every single time.”

At this point in his career, O’Brien has made peace with the fact that some people will have preconceptions about him based on what he’s known for: Maze Runner and Teen Wolf. “People will put you in a box no matter what,” he says. “There was definitely a time when that would get to me, especially when it felt like somebody had a perspective on me that in my soul, I just felt wasn’t accurate.” Still, there’s no doubt he wants to show us what’s really in his soul with more films like Flashback. “If anything,” he adds bullishly, “it just makes me think: ‘Right, I’m really gonna show them now’.”

‘Flashback’ is out on digital platforms from June 4

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Price (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader is a technical analyst for the BAU. She did not expect to be smitten by the resident genius. 

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic as well as my first time writing smut. I’d like to thank @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ for beta reading my work (you’re a gem and I’ll fight for you). Also a quick thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins​ and those in the discord for being so welcoming and helping me with this. The fic is inspired by @erin-bo-berin​ Sweet Cheeks. 

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warnings: Oral (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

There are a lot of things I enjoy about this job. The salary is decent. My coworkers are pretty cool. I get to interact with a sexy genius from time to time- you know, the usual that comes with being employed by the government.

I started as a technical analyst for the BAU a few months prior, working alongside the one and only Penelope Garcia with assisting the rest of the team behind some computer screens. Coding and hacking is second nature to me so the job is not too difficult. It was either this or facing some years in jail because I couldn’t cover my tracks fast enough. Looking at mangled and mutilated bodies on a weekly basis is better than prison.

I get along rather well with the team. I pretty much call everyone by a term of endearment, much to Garcia’s delight. It was one of the things we had in common and helped us get along with one another much faster. I sometimes can get carried away with the innuendos, but Garcia welcomes everything I say with open arms.

I typically save my more sensual remarks for the doctor. I remember the good old days when he used to be so tongue-tied by my actions. Now my words barely surprises him.

A voice broke my concentration. “What got you thinking so hard, angel?” I turn towards the person, a smile already adorning my face. Lo and behold, Dr. Spencer Reid has graced me with his delectable presence.

“Would you believe me if I said that I was thinking of you Doc?” He had a small smile on his face. I could pretty much categorize all the smiles he uses because of how often I stare at him. I mean, it is a tragedy to not stare at such beauty. This particular smile means that he is content and comfortable.

“May I ask exactly what it was that you were thinking about?” he asked. 

“I cannot share the sordid details of my mind with you just yet darling. You’ll just have to use that beautiful mind of yours and conjure up something imaginative.”

He let out a small laugh and helped me carry the files I was juggling. My eyes immediately went to his hands. The things I’ll let those hands do to me. I bet only one is needed to perfectly wrap around my -- No bitch, focus. We got a case to present in five minutes. Right, right. Work now, daydream later.

We entered the conference room, where the rest of the team was already sitting at the round table, waiting for us. I gave out the files with Spencer’s help while Penelope started up the monitor.

“You guys are staying local but time is of the essence” she informed us. The TV lit up with four pictures of young boys. “We have a kidnapping case at Stafford County.”

“Were they kidnapped at the same time or place?” asked JJ as she skimmed over the report I handed out earlier.

“No” I said as I pointed to the two younger boys on the screen. “Jacob Rivers and David Hall were taken from their respective homes 48 hours ago” I then pointed to the two slightly older boys “Benjamin Harris was taken 12 hours ago at a park and Scott Turner was taken from the mall less than 6 hours ago.”

“Do these boys have anything in common?” Morgan asked out loud.

“Other than physical appearance and age group, these boys don’t have any similarities. They didn’t even go to the same school. As a matter of fact, David Hall was home-schooled.” replied Garcia.

“Garcia and I couldn’t find any common ground in the families’ educational, economic, or social backgrounds either” I added. “Once you guys take off, we’ll do a further dive into their personal histories.”

“The UnSub is already escalating, kidnapping from a private home and kidnapping from a crowded area within hours of each event is fairly drastic” Rossi stated.

“Maybe the Unsub is on a time frame? They could be feeling pressured and desperate” Emily questioned, trying to come up with some kind of initial profile.

Hotch already started standing up. “We’ll know more after analyzing the crime scenes and talking to local PD. Let’s head out.” The rest of the team followed, gathering their files and making an exit towards the door while Garcia headed for our office. Spencer lagged behind a bit and I already knew why. We have a little tradition of bidding farewell to one another before he takes off for a case.

I stood next to him, bumping my shoulder against his upper arm. “Don’t miss me too much while you are out there.”

“The more you remind me I have to leave, the more I want to stay here.” he grinned.

I snorted at his words, knowing that he was full of shit. There is nothing more that Reid loves than being out in the field. “Go be a hero and come back to me in one piece pretty boy.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied as he went to follow the team towards the elevator.

I swear that boy is immune to my teasing now. I miss seeing his face become flush, but I also enjoy the playful repartee we have now. I remember the first interaction I had with Spencer quite vividly. It truly was a comical moment.

 “Everyone this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She will be working alongside Garcia.” Hotch stated as he introduced me to the team. I have already met him and Penelope prior to being presented to everyone else.

“Derek Morgan, pleasure to meet you.” Whoa. If tall, dark, and handsome was a person, Morgan would be fit for the role. He offered his hand, which I immediately took.

“The pleasure is all mine” I replied with a wide smile.

I directed my attention to a much older gentleman. “David Rossi” said the Italian man who reminded me of a mob boss.

“Charmed to meet you.” I shook his hand, surprised by the strength behind it. Those older bones are still working for him.

Next came the petite blonde, whose figure I was both envious and enamored with. “Jennifer Jareau, but everyone here calls me JJ for short.”

“In that case, please call me (Y/N/N).” I shook her hand, and became even more envious with how soft her skin was. She has got to tell me her secrets.

I focused on the brunette with shoulder-length hair. “Emily Prentiss”. My God, I think being attractive is a requirement for this team. She offered her hand to shake and her grip was firm. Note to self, forget about Rossi; don’t get on Emily’s bad side.

“Nice to meet you.”

I turned to the final individual and was blown away by his beauty. Yup, my previous thought has been confirmed. Only good-looking people are allowed pass these doors. His bone structure looked like it was sculpted by Roman artists. His body was lean and slender, reminding me of a runner’s physique. My eyes stared up to the softest hazel eyes I have ever seen.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” he introduced. I offered my hand immediately, wanting to feel his skin against mine.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you already knew that,” I said softly, my hand still out. He just stared at it as if it was an anomaly.

���Uh-the amount of pathogens passed through a handshake is astounding. A high five transmit half the number. But even then, a kiss is much more safe.” he quickly stated as he nodded his head. I almost didn’t catch any of it. Partially because of the rapid speech, partially because I was staring at his lips.

“Hmm, that’s news to me. However, if a kiss is what you want…” I lowered my hand and took a step closer to him. My eyes slowly moved from his eyes to his mouth and then back up. He took a slight step back.

“N-N-No, that’s not—I-I mean that —uhh...” His face was flushed and his tongue shot out to run against his lips. His eyes quickly darted across the room, seeking some help. I felt a sense of pride knowing I made this man flustered.

“I’m just teasing Doc.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was frightened by me. Maybe he was, but the blush on his face and the way he kept staring gave me further information on him.

“Don’t mind Reid,” Morgan said, coming to the young man’s rescue. “He has a thing with germs.” He finished, a smirk plastered on his face. Well, I hope he soon develops a thing for something else. Or rather someone else.  

I was just about to make another sly comment when Hotch interrupted. “Back to the case at hand.” He gave us all a pointed look. Right, I am at my first day at work. I’ll focus on hot doctors with hotter smiles and the hottest face at my own time.

“Yes sir,” Garcia stated, as she started pushing buttons on a remote. The TV turned on and pictures of three different women showed up on the screen. They all looked to be strangled to death. “You guys are needed in Toledo, Ohio.” Garcia goes on to describe the case while the team starts the early stages of conducting a profile.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says and the everyone disperses. Garcia walked up to me and handed me some documents from the case file.

“C’mon cupcake, we gotta do some preliminary work to get the case going much faster.” I followed her to what she called the “bat cave”. I scanned the small room and immediately fell in love. Computers and monitors littered almost every inch of the place. I saw a lot of colorful knickknacks displayed on one side of the desk, knowing already who they belonged to. The area was endearing and had a cozy feel to it.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. This place is a dream come true.” I am sure she can hear the awe in my voice.

“I know, right. Wait until you actually use it girlie, the framework on these things is out of this world.” I sat myself on a chair nearby and rolled in front of a screen.

“Alrighty. You can do some background checks on these girls while I gather more information from the police reports. Let me know if there are any commonalities among any of them. We’ll relay that info with the team.”

“Gotcha babe, I’ll have the information ready ASAP.” I responded, already typing away on the computer. I’m already starting to like it here.

*Later that day*

Garcia and I haven’t found much in common between the victims of the crimes, much to our dismay. I was left in the office to continue searching for important information on the girls while she went to fax some data to the precinct when the phone started to ring.

I quickly answered and put it on speaker. “(Y/L/N) at your humble service. How may I serve you?”

“Oh-uh is Garcia around” replied a high-pitched voice, which I immediately recognized as Reid. I don’t know whether or not I should be insulted that he wanted Penelope or pleased that I probably still have him flustered.

“She’s a bit pre-occupied at the moment. But rest assured I can find whatever you need Doc. Especially if you ask nicely.”

“Uh-I need you to pull up information on the mothers. We think they were all in the same sorority, however not necessarily at the same time. We need a list of all the members of the sorority from the time the mothers joined with a 3-year pre- and post-graduation.”

“No problemo sweetness. Anything else I can do for you? I have a lot of other services that can be helpful.” I stated, a teasing tone in my voice as I already set up my search.

“No-no, that’s all. Um thanks.” I can already picture the blush coating his cheeks as he stammered his response.

“Alright love, call me back if you need anything. Or if you change your mind.” I hung up the phone and started organizing the list in front of me.

 And from then on, I have enjoyed pretty much all the moments I had with the BAU. It took some time, but Spencer now has accepted and even returned my little flirtations.  We often get compared to Garcia and Morgan. But with a lot more sexual tension, at least on my end. I have to remind myself from time to time to calm down before I combust in the middle of a conference room or the bullpen. C'est la vie.

I made my way to the cavern of all things amazing and settled in front of my computers. Pen looked at me with a knowing expression on her face. “You’re gloomy.”

I pouted as I put my earpiece on. “I am not gloomy, I am horny,” I rebuked.

“How long has it been since you got some?”

“I’m not sure but it feels like I have not gotten any since the Stone Age,” I groaned out.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell him how you feel,” she pointed her pink glittery pen in my direction, “I bet he would fuck you right here if you let him.”

And there goes my thought process, as always, overtaken by Spencer Reid. “Babe, please. This is not helping my situation.”

“Just telling you how it is.”

●●●

We have been sitting in front of these screens for hours. The team has made some progress but they’re missing an important piece to fit the puzzle. Garcia has been looking into the background of the neighbors when I heard a small stomach grumble coming from her direction. I let out a laugh as she huffed out “I am going to grab a snack from the breakroom, you want anything boo?”

“If it ain’t alcohol or chocolate, I don’t want it.”

“Noted,” she said as she left the room. I really hope she finds a couple of cupcakes or something.

I continued trying to get information on these missing kids when my headpiece played the Doctor Who theme song, informing me that Einstein was calling in. “Goddess of knowledge and wisdom at your disposal.”

“I didn’t know I had Athena at my fingertips.” How is it possible that nine words have short-circuited my brain just now? Is it the voice or the way he basically called me a Greek Deity? Probably both.

Of course I slyly responded, “Oh my Hephaestus, you have all of me at your fingertips.” I heard a chuckle and I immediately knew it belonged to Morgan. A slight blush crept onto my cheeks when I heard a random voice asking why Spencer called his girlfriend in the middle of a case.

“I should have mentioned that you were on speakerphone.”

“Naughty boy, you know I charge extra for groups.” Now this was followed by some choked out noises and a bunch of giggles. I could only assume the whole precinct was amused by my antics at this point. 

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“I can, for a price.”

“A price?”

“Yes, a price that I would inform you of in private. Now the reason for your call…” I drew out. Thank goodness Garcia wasn’t here. I don’t need her looking at me as if I am a phone sex operator.

“I need you to check foster children between the ages of four and eight within a 25-mile radius. We are looking for a homosexual couple that were looking to adopt but were rejected. The names should be on multiple applications among different sites. Let me know what you find.”

“I’ll have that information at the palm of your hands soon” Meanwhile, I am over here wishing that I was at the palm of his hands.

“Thank you, my Goddess” I can’t help but smile when he says things like this. Since when were the roles reversed in our friendship?

“Anything for a gorgeous worshipper. TTYL.”

Garcia chose that moment to walk back in while I had this silly grin on my face. She stared at me and I already knew what she was going to say.

“If you don’t have a piece of chocolate or a cocktail on you, I am not talking.”

All she did was laugh at me.

●●●

The team was able to find all four boys safely. The UnSubs were a male couple who wanted to adopt but kept facing discrimination against the agencies. It is a shame that they felt they had to resort to kidnapping in order to have a family.

Now Garcia and I are scanning the notes the team faxed to us earlier today. They informed us that they would be back here in half an hour or so.

“Shoot, I didn’t think it would take this long to scan these damn files.” Garcia murmured.  I looked over at her and saw a small stack of documents that still needed to be put into the system.

I walked over and grabbed the pile from her. “Go, I’ll take care of it from here doll.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad. You did your portion of the work already.”

“Don’t you have to be at the rehearsal in 20 minutes? How is the theater going to operate without their main lead?” I placed the documents on my side of the desk and moved to gather Garcia’s belongings.  I picked up her purse and jacket before handing it to her, quickly pushing her towards the door. “I got this, think of it as an IOU.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I owe you big. Thank you sugar, see you tomorrow.” Garcia hurriedly exited the door and headed towards the elevator. 

I looked towards the papers, a low groan leaving my mouth. The faster I go through this, the better.

●●●

I was just finished implementing all the documents into the computer when I heard a knock at the door. I turned around and saw Spencer’s head peeking through. “Evening handsome, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Garcia passed by me a while ago and informed me you were in here finishing some extra work. I wanted to check on you; see if you needed my help.”

“Thanks Doc, but you’re a few minutes too late. I already finished scanning the files. Besides, you’re not the best with technology, much less these computers.”

“Maybe not. But I am a fast learner and I pay close attention to detail.” Either my ears were playing a trick on me or Spencer’s voice lowered an octave or two.

I remembered what Penelope said earlier today and decided to just go for it. “I could collect on that price from earlier.” I leaned against the desk and stared into his eyes. C’mon Doc, pick up the hint. Rather, pick me up instead.

“Well I was thinking that I can get you dinner.” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

That’s great, but not what I had in mind. “I was hoping for something else” I looked into his eyes, then slowly trailed my eyes downwards. Kiss me. Kiss me. Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me. Kiss me.

Unfortunately, Spencer is not a mind reader. He lowered his head and looked slightly dejected. “Oh well umm—would you prefer to go to a theater?” Oh Doc, you sexy, naïve, intelligent, innocent man. I guess if you want something you have to do it yourself.

I sat on the edge of my desk. “Come here Spencer.”

His head perked up, slightly intrigued since I rarely call him by his name. He walked to where I was sitting but there was still space between us.

“Closer, I don’t bite.” Unless you want me to.

He moved closer to me and I was able to rest my hands on his shoulders. Thankfully the height of the table let us be more at level with one another.

I made sure to look into his eyes as I said “I am going to kiss you. If that isn’t something you want, tell me now.”

He was speechless. His mouth was moving but no sounds came out. If the circumstances were different I would have appreciated seeing his rattled expression once more. I waited a few seconds, but he still has yet to say anything.

“Spen-mmh” before I knew it, his mouth was upon mine. He gently cradled my face as his lips moved against my own. My eyes closed as I felt nothing but bliss. As cliché as it sounds, I was in paradise because of this kiss alone.

His tongue peeked and swiped against my lower lip, trying to have a taste of me. I was more than happy to grant him entrance, a moan leaving my body as his tongue touched mine.

All parts of me were trying to feel him. I had one hand in his hair while the other grabbed onto the back of his shirt. My chest was pressed against his while my legs lazily wrapped around his midsection. His scent was intoxicating to me. It was a coffee-like smell as if he just walked out of a café. He tasted so sweet, all I wanted to do was keep his mouth on mine. But my body needed air so I slowly pulled away.

He tried to catch his breath as his forehead rested against mine. “So you don’t want dinner?”

“Doc the only thing I am hungry for right now is you. We’ll get food afterward, alright?” Spencer nodded his head while licking his lips. My eyes hungrily followed the action and I just had to get another taste. I pulled him towards me, his hands once again holding onto my face. He was much more dominant with this kiss, and I was more than willing to give him the control. His hands then trailed down to my hips and pulled me closer to his pelvis. I jerked against him and was rewarded with a groan.

He squeezed me tighter as his lips broke away from mine once more. He placed a peck on my lips, then my cheek before trailing down my neck. I felt my body heat up as I released a small moan. Fucking hell, he is going to be the death of me and we barely did anything.

Spencer started to lightly nibble on my neck when I pulled him back by his hair. “It is summer and I am not wearing a turtleneck in 80° weather. If you’re gonna give me some hickeys, they better be on my chest.” He murmured something that I couldn’t quite comprehend before undoing the buttons of my blouse.

Hell, I am not the only one who is gonna be undressed so I started unbuttoning his dress shirt as well. It was a race to see who would get the other’s shirt off first. Of course I lost because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But when his warm lips kissed their way towards the middle of my cleavage, I felt like a fucking champion.

I tried my best to shimmy out of the sleeves of my blouse while Spencer attempted to take my bra off, his lips still leaving a love mark against my chest. Once we got rid of the shirt and the bra, his mouth immediately enveloped one of my nipples.

“Fuck” I yelped loudly, “a little warning next time Doc.”

“Sorry” he muttered as he continued to suck on my breast while palming the other between his dexterous fingers. That had to be the most insincere apology I have ever heard from him. An idea came across my head. I slowly removed his shirt, watching it pool on the floor. I then raked the nails of one hand across his chest while the other pulled against his hair. Hard. He retaliated by lightly biting my nipple. Fuck, the plan backfired. Abort mission, abort the damn mission.

Spencer let out a small chuckle as he pulled away from my breast, an audible pop leaving his mouth. My hands went to his face and I moved him up to look at me. His eyes were dilated and his mouth was swollen. His face was flush and he was taking deeper breaths than usual. He looked so beautiful like this.

He had a dorky smile on his face and I realized that I said the words out loud. I felt my face heat up fast and he swiftly commented “I’d never thought I’d see you be so thrown off because of me.”

He rested his hands against either side of the desk and just looked at me. “Shut up and kiss me.” I hissed, already missing the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. I was about to reply when he interrupted “Do you want me to kiss you on your lips? Or maybe you want me back on those beautiful breasts of yours?”

Have mercy on me, I never believed Spencer Reid could make me so wet just with his words. Sure, I thought of it, but I didn’t believe it would happen to me.

“Maybe you want me to go lower. Should I place my lips on that pussy of yours?” Oh my fuck, I never want this moment to end. I nodded my head so quickly, I could have sworn I given myself whiplash.

“I want to hear you say it,” he breathed out.

“Yes, yes, please. I want you to eat my pussy. Please.” I begged. Dignity be damned.

“That’s my good girl” How is it possible that he went from the dorky adorable doctor to this assertive, stimulating specimen in a matter of minutes? I didn’t think he had a sensual bone in his body. But I am glad to be proven wrong.

Spencer lowered himself to his knees while I clumsily attempted to rid myself of my skirt and panties. I lifted my lower body up as he pulled the clothing off of me. Penelope would have a field day if she knew that I was sitting butt naked on the desk with Spencer Reid between my legs. Hell, I am having a field day knowing this.

Spencer, being the teasing bastard that he has been for the past few minutes, started kissing my legs first. “That’s not where I said I wanted you to kiss me” I huffed out.

“Hush” was all he said as he continued the slow trail up, making sure to alternate between each leg. I was already breathing as if I have ran a marathon, my patience was waning at this point. Finally, he made his way to where I needed him most. He put his hands on my thighs and pushed them further apart.

My hands landed on top of his head, playing with the curls. “You’re comfortable down there Doc?” I snickered, loving the sight of his head between my legs. All he did was nip my inner thigh harshly. I shrieked at the action. I’m starting to think this man has a tiny biting fetish.

I wasn’t ready for when his tongue parted my folds. I squeaked as he teasingly lapped the arousal that had formed the second he walked into the room. I tried rolling my hips but his hands made me stay put on the desk. I never knew he could hold me down like this. I couldn’t even be mad because the pleasure he was giving me was incredible.

Spencer continued to tease me, his tongue never going where I needed it most. He made sure to explore as much as possible as leisurely as possible. “Spencer, please” I cried out. He let out a small hum, the vibration causing a shiver to rack my body.  

His tongue finally entered me, much to my delight. No amount of imagination could have ever prepared me for the things this appendage can do to me. He continued this soft, flat movement that was driving me crazy. My hands tightened in his hair, hoping he would go a bit faster.

“You taste so good princess, I don’t want this to end.”

“That’s my Queen to you” I jested. He didn’t like that since he responded with a resounding smack against my outer thigh. Ouch, note to self, Spencer doesn’t like being teased during sexy times. Hmm. On second thought, continue to tease Spencer during sexy times.

I felt his finger probe my entrance, moving up and down before pushing inside of me. I let out a distressing whine as he started slowly moving his finger in and out of me, curling as he did so. His mouth was on my clit, sucking and kissing it as if he has done so all his life.

My body started heating up and trembling. I tried, and failed, to roll my hips against the movement. “Spe-Spencer” I wailed. He didn’t relent.

Spencer entered a second finger into me as his tongue gave small, flickering motions against my bundle of nerves. I had to move one hand to my mouth to prevent any loud noises from being heard outside the room. Shit, did we even lock the door?

That thought immediately left my mind as my core started to tighten. Spencer must have known that I was getting close to my orgasm because he moved his fingers more diligently within me. I felt his fingers curl as they pulled out, I felt his tongue lick thoroughly against my pearl, I felt my ecstasy rising within me. It took one more deep press of his fingers and a harsh suck for me to come all over his face. I bit down on my fingers as I moaned out loud.

“That was so much better then what I imagined” I panted out, the words barely coming out comprehensible. I had a giant smile decorating my face.

He pulled his face up, a smug grin gracing his face. “Is this what you were thinking about earlier this morning?” he taunted. I couldn’t even give him a smartass remark because I was too busy trying to come back to reality. He pulled his fingers out and held them in front of my face.

“Open” he ordered. I complied and he pushed his fingers inside of my mouth. “You look so pretty when you follow instructions well. See how good you taste.”

I pulled my head back, taking his fingers out of my mouth. “I bet I taste a lot better on that tongue of yours.”

He tangled his hand in my hair and pulled me to a kiss. I immediately opened and welcomed his tongue against mine. I was right, I do taste better on him. I let out a deep moan and pulled away far enough to gently bite down on his lower lip.

He looks at me, that devilish tongue of his running against his lower lip before entering my mouth once again. With his lips still on mine, he picked me up and move to sit on my desk chair. It was nothing short of a miracle that we managed not to fall on the floor.

I placed my hand on top of his erection through his slacks and he drew a quick intake of breath. I started palming him as I grinded myself against him. I pulled back as I whispered, “I need you, Spencer”.

“Y’know this is the most I have heard you call me by my name in any given moment we have been together.” He unzipped his slacks and pushed down his pants and boxers as much as he could with me on top of him.

I looked down, finally being able to see his cock. Is it possible to get aroused further through sight alone? Because I think I creamed myself again. God, I wish I could show him my oral skills, but we’ll save that for another time.

“Would you rather I call you by something else?” I asked, attempting to move my lower body so that it can align with his cock. I say attempt because Spencer currently had his hands on my thighs again.

“No, I like the way my name sounds as you moan it out. Don’t hide your pleasure from me this time.” He maneuvered my legs to rest upon the armrest on either side of the chair, leaving my pussy wide open for him.

I gave him an incredulous look. “Are you forgetting that we are at work?”

He started rubbing the tip of his cock against my lower lips. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t fucking care.” And with that, he slowly penetrated me.

We both groaned at the intrusion. He gradually started entering me as I adjusted to his size. Inch by inch, he gave me all of him until he was buried to the hilt.  I took a moment to savor the feel of Spencer inside of me before I started grinding against him. He took that as a hint to begin thrusting.

He started slow, taking his time and having us enjoy the feeling of one another. “Your cunt is so fucking tight” he hissed into my ear and I gave out a loud whine.

“That’s because you have such a big cock, Doc” I managed to moan out. He smacked my ass before grabbing each cheek tightly in his hands. “I want you to call me by my name” he grits out.

“Spencer, baby please give it to me. I’ve been waiting for this Spencer, I’ve been waiting for you.” He started kissing my neck once more and my eyes started to closed. I wanted to focus on the pleasure he was giving me.

He tightly grabbed me, moving my hips along with his thrusts. I was close to being pushed over the edge once more. The only sounds occupying the room were our moans and skin smacking against skin as we chased our pleasure.

“Open your mouth” I heard him say. I opened my eyes to see his thumb positioned over my lips. I let out a small whimper as I sucked his digit earnestly. I made sure to coat his finger with a lot of saliva, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it when it was out of my mouth.

He pulled his thumb out and immediately placed it on my clit. I gave out an embarrassingly loud sob as he started moving his finger against me in soft circular motions. I placed my lips on his neck, trying to muffle the noise coming out of my throat.

Spencer quickly grabbed my hair and pulled my head away as he started to slow down. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to hear your pleasure?” In that moment, Spencer controlled my mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sorry Spencer. I’ll be your good girl, please don’t stop.” He returned back to the previous pace and thrust into me even harder. We both started chasing our orgasms, not being able to hold back any longer. He was pounding into me relentlessly and I was loving it. I am sure that I am going to be sore after this.

“Come for me (Y/N), I want to feel this tight cunt squeeze around my cock.” Say less, I am already ahead of you. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head and I felt my pussy pulsate around him. With one last motion against his thumb, I cried out his name multiple times as I climaxed.  

Spencer whispered my name as he continued pushing into me, chasing his own orgasm. He thrust a couple more times before quickly pulling out, spilling himself over my stomach. I panted as I laid my head against the crook of his neck. His fingers thrummed a slow rhythm upon my lower back.

“So about that dinner... do you want to get Indian food?”

“Yeah, I can go for some samosas right now.”

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 1! “Harvest”

My first ficlet for Suptober! Read under the cut :)

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 2,218

Tags: Fluff, Disaster Bi Dean Winchester, Daydreaming about hot farmers, Some suggestive language (and swearing), Angelic wheat harvest assistance, The Dom Brow makes an appearance, Sam Ships It, Mini Case Fic  

On AO3 here.

“All right,” Dean announces as he stomps into the hospital room, trailing mud with every step. “You’re not gonna have a problem anymore, Randy.”

The man propped up on the hospital bed cushions glares at Dean from under bushy eyebrows. “Well, it’s about time,” he snaps. “First these-- these things terrorize my fields for weeks, then y’all show up and are so useless that they maim me after you’re already on the case, and now I’ve lost the prime window to harvest a year’s worth o’ growth ‘cause I’m laid up in this godforsaken facility. So don’t you tell me I ain’t gonna have a problem anymore.” 

Dean sinks down onto the rickety plastic chair next to the bed, moving gingerly to avoid jostling his (probably) dislocated shoulder, courtesy of some extremely vengeful spirits. He fixes Randy with an even gaze. 

“Man, I’m sorry about your leg. I am. The spirits had a wider range than we thought and we figured you’d be safe at the house.”

Randy snorts in obvious derision, his scruffy mustache fluttering comically. Dean presses on.

“But, we’ve put them to rest. Your great-grandparents aren’t gonna give you any more grief.”  Even if the rest of your family did totally fuck them over.

He stands again, awkwardly, and pats Randy’s good knee. “Sorry about your harvest, though. Can anyone help out? Neighbors? Friends?”

Randy glowers. “I ain’t takin’ no charity.”

Dean quirks his lips and nods. “Right. Take it easy, Randy.” He leaves the still-grumbling farmer behind, following his own trail of mud back down the hallway. A tall janitor lurking around the corner sends him a death glare and Dean tries for an appropriately apologetic smile. 

It’s been a real headache of a night. 

The pair of spirits haunting Randy Johnson’s wheat fields ended up being way more pissed off than Sam, Dean, and Cas had anticipated. By the time Cas located the heavy brass key to the farmhouse that was apparently tethering the property-line-obsessed spirits to the material plane, Dean and Sam were long out of rock salt. In their retreat, they’d ended up waist-deep in a pebbly creek, splashing and wobbling as they beat off the screeching spirits with crowbars. Dean has an unfortunately-placed boulder to thank for his dislocated shoulder -- he went down hard and clumsy just as Cas reappeared next to the stream, the old key melting dramatically in the bright glow of his palm. 

The spirits burned away in a shower of sparks, along with Dean’s dignity.

To top it all off, Dean drew the short straw to go tell Randy the case was closed, and he may have stomped off in a sulky huff before thinking of asking Cas or Sam to put his shoulder right. 

Oh, well. At least it’s dealt with. One more night in their more-stained-than-usual motel room, and first thing in the morning they’ll get the hell outta Dodge (almost literally - they’re up in Osborne County). 

Dean thinks of a bright July morning on the open road and sighs in relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He doesn’t get his wish.

“I just feel bad, Dean!” Sam protests as Dean gesticulates incredulously at him. (His shoulder was very pleasantly healed by Cas the night before, and if Dean noticed that Cas’ warm hands lingered a little longer on his skin than was technically necessary for a cursory dislocation repair, he didn’t mention it.)

“God, Sammy, yeah, it sucks about the guy’s leg, but maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole to everyone he knows, somebody’d help him out! It’s not-- it can’t be our problem.”

Sam crosses his arms stubbornly. “It’s not about Randy. His fields are part of a huge supply that feeds a ton of people. Do you want people to go hungry, Dean?”

Castiel chooses that moment to materialize directly next to Dean, his nose inches away from Dean’s cheek. He’s holding two steaming cups of coffee and Dean immediately grabs one. Cas squints and tilts his head. “Why does Dean want people to go hungry?”

“Oh my god.” Dean throws his free hand up. “Fine. Fucking fine. We’ll find someone who’s willing to plow the dude’s fields. That’ll be easy.”

Sam opens his big mouth, probably to say something about having faith in humanity, but Cas beats him to it. Still planted firmly in Dean’s bubble, he sends a puff of warm air against Dean’s face as he speaks.

“Oh. I can do it.”

Dean and Sam both look at him. Dean shuffles back a couple steps and wills his eyes away from the guy’s lips. He really spends too much time staring at them.

“Um--” Sam clears his throat. “You can harvest Randy’s wheat?”

“I can plow, yes.” Cas nods firmly. Dean’s first sip of coffee comes spraying back out. He pounds his chest and wheezes. 

“Like-- like-- with a combine?” 

Cas furrows his brow. “Is that a machine? No, I don’t require machinery. This is a very basic task.”

“Plowing,” Dean says weakly.

“Harvesting,” Cas corrects, tilting his chin down and narrowing his eyes. “Humans have been doing it for a very long time. I used to help, now and again. I can’t imagine the process has changed much.”

Sam slaps his thighs as he stands up from his bed. “Well! Look at that, Dean. Cas doesn’t want people to go hungry.” 

Dean flips him off, but it lacks the usual heat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, they find themselves on the edge of a vast, lazily undulating expanse of gold. They’d skirted the north edge of the field extensively while working the spirit case, since the activity was strongest there along the creek, but in his single-minded focus Dean hadn’t really paid much attention to the field itself.

It’s big. Like, squint-into-the-distance-and-you-can’t-see-the-end big. 

“You’re really gonna plow all that?” Dean asks, glancing at Cas. The morning sun is turning the tips of Cas’ hair a chestnut gold. 

“I will cut down the stalks, separate the grain from the chaff, and deposit the edible grain into a large truck, which apparently takes it where it needs to go,” Cas says matter-of-factly. “I visited Randy early this morning to make sure I knew which truck it was.”

Sam laughs. “Oh yeah? How’d good old Randy take that?”

“He seemed dubious,” Cas says. “And rude. I assured him that despite his unsavory attitude, he would come home to harvested fields.”

“Very angelic of you,” Sam remarks. 

“So how’s this gonna go?” Dean lifts a hand to block out the steadily-rising sun. “You gonna be flapping back and forth? Probably not smart to let the locals clock an angel doing the harvest.”

Cas arches an eyebrow at him, somehow gazing down at Dean despite being an inch shorter. “I don’t flap, Dean. I may have wings, but their movement in the ether is beyond your comprehension.” 

Dean rolls his eyes and turns his face away in a show of studying the field to the north, but mostly to conceal the flush of his cheeks in response to that eyebrow. 

For Christ's sake, keep it together, Winchester.

“I can’t explain to you how it will look,” Cas continues, oblivious. “You’ll just have to watch. Anything you see will be for your eyes only. I guarantee no locals will ‘clock me.’”

Dean looks back just in time to see the tail end of the finger quotes. Cas is staring right at him, that damn eyebrow still up, a subtle challenge, daring Dean to make a move.

Maybe not so oblivious. Asshole. 

Dean smiles sweetly and gestures at the wheat. “All right then. Have at it, buddy. Show us what you’ve got.”

With no further ado, Cas is gone. Dean’s left staring through the previously-Cas-occupied space at his brother, who’s grimacing with an air of great suffering. 

“What?” Dean demands. 

Sam sighs heavily and gazes out over the field. “You two are so weird.”

Dean’s about to respond with something really witty when Sam perks up and points into the distance. “Holy crap, look!”

Dean follows the path of Sam’s outstretched finger and his mouth drops open. On the horizon, at the far end of the field, there’s a cloud. No-- a mini tornado. A golden tornado. A… sparkly tornado?

“What the--” Dean cups his hands around his eyes like blinkers. Even with the glare of the sun blocked out, though, the tornado is just as bright -- a swirling, racing funnel criss-crossing the field way faster than a combine, or even Baby, could drive. 

“Why is it-- what’s the sparkly stuff?” 

Sam’s squinting too. “I think it’s the pieces of the stalks he’s separating? And they catch the light as they get tossed around.” 

The tornado’s already halfway across the field, approaching them steadily. It’s about as tall as an oak tree, and as it gets closer Dean sees that Sam was right: thousands of little stalks and bits of grain and -- what had Cas called it? -- chaff are whirling and flitting amid the twisting golden dust of the tornado. The effect is a bit dizzying, kind of like that ocular migraine Dean had one time as a teenager, when an aura of tiny flashing spots obscured his vision, right there in his eye yet impossible to focus on. 

He steps back instinctively, Sam mirroring his movement, when the tornado grows close to them. It whips past, blowing Dean’s jacket open, and where there was once chest-high golden grain, there’s now just dirt littered with aborted stalks. 

“Damn,” Dean whispers. He’s seen Cas do all kinds of badass things, of course, but they’ve been more of the smiting and heavy-lifting variety. This is a new level of cool. In a farmer-y way. This, of course, leads Dean’s traitorous brain directly to images of worn flannel stretched tight over biceps; of a blade of hay dangling jauntily from chapped lips; of long, strong fingers gripping a pitchfork--

“--Dean!” 

The pleasantly-evolving bubble bursts. Dean twitches as Sam elbows him in the ribs.

“Dude! Cas is done, come on.”

Dean blinks a few times to bring himself back to reality (a reality with wheat-harvesting angel tornados) and realizes that Sam’s heading north along the field to where a normal-sized, non-funnel-cloudy Cas is standing, brushing off his trenchcoat. Dean follows his brother and takes in the scene; the whole field really has been reduced to nothing -- just a flat, dappled expanse.

“Damn, Cas,” he says quietly as he reaches Cas’ side. His voice comes out strained and a little breathless. “That was some good plowing.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Can replies gravely. He tugs on his cuffs and some wheat dust puffs out. “It was an effective harvest. I disguised myself from mortal eyes -- including yours -- as I transported the grain to the truck, but I trust you saw the rest?”

Sam nods enthusiastically and launches straight into a barrage of questions about the physics and techniques and yadda yadda before Dean has to come up with a response. Yeah, I saw it. Yeah, it got me all tingly. That’s normal. He takes a few deliberate, slow breaths to calm the pounding in his chest.

Still tuning Sam out, he zeroes in on a single piece of wheat still stuck in Cas’ hair. It’s poking up toward the blue summer Kansas sky -- a tiny, trembling link between earth and heaven. Dean sidles up to Cas before he can overthink it. He slips his fingers into Cas’ wild, dark hair and plucks the wheat out. 

He throws it on the ground. It belongs to the earth. 

Sam falls silent with a choked-off laugh and Cas turns his trademark unblinking stare onto Dean. But this time there’s a slight crinkle to the edges of his eyes. A quirk of his lips. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says again. He reaches out and -- Dean stops breathing -- brushes another piece of wheat out of Dean’s collar. His warm fingers graze Dean’s throat and all Dean can do is watch the little stalk flutter to the ground. 

Well. So much for a steady heartbeat. 

“Hey, I’ve got stuff in my hair, too,” Sam announces, voice thick with amusement. “Anyone gonna help me out?”

Dean tears his eyes away from the enlightening piece of wheat and points a finger at Sam, leveling him with his sternest shut the fuck up face. He prays his cheeks aren’t flaming. 

“If you need assistance, Sam--” Cas says, starting toward him.

“--He’s fine,” Dean interjects hastily. Maybe a little loudly. He coughs to cover it up. Smooth. “Let’s go. I wanna hit the road.”

Sam’s already jogging away before Dean’s done speaking. “I’ve still got the keys,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll warm up the car. You guys can catch up!”

Cas and Dean are left at the edge of the empty field. Dean rubs his neck and shuffles his feet, acutely aware of Cas’ piercing gaze. It’s nearly warmer than the morning sun. “Uh-- that was really cool, Cas. Thanks for letting us see it.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replies, measured and deep. “I enjoyed sharing that with you.”

Wow. All right. Dean needs to get moving or he’s going to explode. But not before filing that particular comment away for extensive mental perusal later, in the privacy of his bedroom. 

He flashes a grin and punches Cas’ shoulder. “Come on, farmer angel. Let’s go home.”

[pradaksj]

ghostin || part one. (m.)

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶  ❝Though I wish he were here instead. Don't want that living in your head, he just comes to visit me when I'm dreaming every now and then. ❞

❧ pairing⟶ seokjin/reader

❧ genre⟶  angst, angst, and angst … did i say angst? + a bit of fluff? friends to lovers. 

❧ word count ⟶ 20,000+ 

❧ warnings ⟶ major character death! sad ending. descriptions of grieving process. 

❧ a/n ⟶ this is based on both ghostin by ariana grande and the one that got away by katy perry and pluto projector by rex orange county which has a godlike violin instrumental that is a perfect fit for this story. i def recommend listening to the slowed + reverb versions. + i tried to make transitions as clear as possible so please let me know how i did on those :(  and lastly ermmm dont stress too much on specific time stamps and ages bc ermmm I just did quick maths for a lot of it LMAO

❧ part of the  ⟶ thank u, next series

part 1 || part 2 (final) 

2050.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear grandma, happy birthday to you!” the sound of multiple claps echo across the room, symbolizing the start of a new year for you. 

Today was your 75th birthday celebration and around you were your two grandkids along with your only daughter. It seemed as the years went by, the need for such grand celebrations weren’t as important as they used to be. A simple cutting of the cake surrounded by the people you love being enough to suffice.

“Grandma! You have to blow the candles out!” your youngest grandson eagerly reminds you, ready to blow them out himself if you didn’t take action soon, “and don’t forget to make a wish and don’t tell us or else it won’t come true!”

“Mm,” you smile warmly, gently closing your eyes and puffing a gentle huff of air, your mind blank of any wishes, for you had stopped believing in the magic of wishes a long long time ago.

“Alright, now to cut it … Jia go grab a cutting knife from the block set,” you hear your daughter command your oldest grandchild, who at this moment was clearly too consumed with whatever she had going on in her phone to even bother listening, “Jia!” she finally snaps her head up at the sound of her mother’s voice raising an octave, “How many times do I have to tell you to stop using that phone so much, not only is it rude but we’re celebrating your grandma’s birthday. The least you can do is have the courtesy to turn off your phone.”

She rolls her eyes in response, “Mom, I’m sure grandma doesn’t mind … right grandma?” she flashes you the toothy grin that you were used to seeing whenever she wanted something, knowing she’s always had a special place in your heart as the first grandchild.  

All you can do is chuckle softly, feeling too old to entertain and be dragged into the bickering arguments between your daughter and granddaughter. Carefully you get up yourself and grab a cutting knife despite your daughter’s pleas to sit.

“Look at what you’ve made your grandma do Ji—” but before your daughter could continue with her scolding, you raise a hand as a gesture of interrupting.

“I’m old, but I’m not that old Yeojin, getting up to grab a knife isn’t the end of the world for me,” you sigh, “Now let’s stop with all of the bickering and eat some cake.”

It was odd really, growing up you could never exactly picture yourself getting to this age (not that you weren’t ever hoping to), but like any other person you just always pictured yourself being young forever. 

It wasn’t until your first gray hair appeared several years ago that it suddenly struck you that you really were actually aging. From there the wrinkles upon your skin grew to be more prevalent and things you had no problem doing when you were in your teenage years began to consume much more energy from you. 

And now that you observed yourself in the mirror, here on your 75th birthday, did you realize that life had really gone by in the blink of an eye. 

Of course 75 wasn’t too old of an age, but now retired and living under the light supervision of your nearly 50 year old daughter, you had long ago realized that the days of wild adventures and endless partying were long over. In a way it was time to start asking yourself if you had lived a life you could be proud of and if you fulfilled the promise you made over 50 years ago. 

Honestly, you were unsure, but before you could dwell on your thoughts for any longer, the sound of an argument going on downstairs catches your attention.

“Hand me the phone Jia!” you hear your daughter’s voice yell across the room as you made your way into the living room.

“I said no! I’m not twelve anymore, you can’t just make me hand you my things whenever you want,” Jia scoffs in return, adamant on her rebellious stance.

“Considering that I’m the one whose paying that phone bill every month, I wouldn’t exactly call it yours little lady,” Yeojin sternly furrows her brows while her hand continued to remain held out, her patience running on a thin line, “Jia if you don’t give me that phone then—”

“What?” she interrupts, challenging whatever her mother was going to say. With your newly profound headache growing by the second, you grab the keys to your small old Toyota, deciding that you weren’t going to be helping handle this on your birthday. 

Their voices, which became nothing more than background noise while you grabbed your winter jacket, were brought back to your attention once you were making your way out the door.

“Mom where are you going?” Yeojin asks before you could run off, “It’s raining and you shouldn’t be driving at this hour of night.”

“And why is that?”

“Because Grandma you’re—” Jia suddenly chimes in, “well you’re um—” old, is what you know your granddaughter wants to say, but out of respect chooses not to.  

You sigh, “I’m just going to the diner to grab myself a late night snack while you two continue with your useless arguing. Hopefully when I come back, you two will have realized how pointless these arguments are.”

“Mom—” Yeojin begins, but almost as if a lightbulb went off in her head, she suddenly grabs Jia’s phone while she was distracted in watching you leave, “Go with your grandma,” she commands, and Jia’s eyes immediately go wide.

“Hey you can’t just—” Jia’s about to complain until she sees the firm look on her mother’s face, “But—” she glances in your direction, knowing that just like her mom, she wouldn’t feel too good having you out driving this late at night, especially on a rainy day.

“You cried about getting your permit for months, now is the time to put it to use,” Yeojin sends her knowing look, recalling the number of months that Jia would complain about all of her classmates getting either their permits or license’s while she was still stuck taking the bus. 

“Ugh,” she groans, “Fine, grandma wait for me in the car,” she ultimately says. After putting on her shoes, Jia begins to make her way out to the car, but not before her mother stops her midway to tell her to “Drive safe.”

“Mom, I know,” she scoffs, “but don’t expect me to spend hours there or something. We’re strictly going for whatever food she wants and back. No way in hell are we dining in.”  

To that, Yeojin laughs. There was no way her mother wouldn’t want to dine in, but deciding she’d let Jia figure that out on her own, instead she says, “Well as long as you listen to whatever your grandma has to say to you then I don’t mind what time you come back.”

“That’s if she doesn’t put me to sleep first,” Jia mumbles to herself, but still loud enough for her mother to hear. 

One could say, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to spending one on one time with her grandma, not without her phone at least. Of course that didn’t mean she didn’t love her grandma to death because truly she did, but often she found herself halfway asleep whenever she had long conversations with her. The same old endearing “you and your mother need to learn to communicate” or the “back in my day” conversations were quite repetitive.

“Mm, you need to start putting that attitude of yours under control little lady,” Yeojin shakes her head in disapproval, “I understand that your grandma can be a bit…”

“Boring,” Jia completes the sentence for her.

“Tedious,” Yeojin corrects, “at times, but occasionally she has an interesting story to tell here and there,” she chuckles, “so don’t count her out just yet. You may be surprised with whatever story she has prepared to tell.”

And with that all Jia could do was sigh, preparing for the long night ahead.

“Grandma, we’ve been here for like 2 hours now,” Jia complains, staring at you as you ate your BLT sandwich, the sound of both loud and pleased munches coming out of your mouth, “You’re really telling me you’re not full yet?”

With a mouthful of food in your mouth, you shake your head no. It isn’t until you gulp down your food that you’re able to verbally give a response, “You know I’m a slow eater, plus it’s my birthday. You don’t hear me complain on your birthday, do you?”

To that, Jia remained silent. She guessed you had a point, not like there was much left for an elderly lady like you to do. The least she could do was suck up her complaints, and deal with it. It just sucked that whenever she looked up at the wall clock it seemed like time was moving as slow as a snail. 

God, how she should’ve somehow managed to take back her phone. It also didn’t help that those “stories” her mom had mentioned weren’t planning on making an appearance tonight because all you did was silently eat your food and stare out the window. 

Honestly, Jia hadn’t expected much but it seemed as if today you were even quieter than usual, not even bothering to make the small conversation you usually did, like asking her how school was going or if she had a boyfriend yet (not that she ever responded truthfully). So in short, you were doing absolutely nothing to appease Jia’s boredom.

All Jia could do was tap her nails against the old diner’s table and observe the other late night foodies around you two. 

The first person she noticed was a middle aged man who was eating a burger along with a strawberry shake. Based on his tiresome appearance and the hat he wore, she could only assume that he was most likely a trucker who needed to make a pit stop.

The second person she noticed was not a single person, but a group of three. A father, a mother, and their little daughter. The sight of them tugging slightly at her heart strings, reminding her of a time in her childhood before her parents’ divorce. If only she had appreciated those moments a little more while they were happening.

Deciding that she wasn’t in the mood for nostalgic sulking, she instead focused her attention on the last set of people in the diner. A couple, who was only a couple of feet away from you two, seated in one of the booths rather than at a table like Jia and you. 

The young man, who Jia assumed was in his mid 20′s, was seated with a woman who was just as good looking as him. The two of them sat facing across from one another rather than besides each other, the serious look on their faces clearly signaling that whatever they were talking about was of importance.

It wasn’t until she took a clearer look at the woman that she realized she was crying, the sounds of her whimpers becoming clearer once she had taken note of the woman’s disheveled appearance. It looked like she had been crying for hours, her hand holding onto the man’s at the center of the table as if begging him to stay…

“Yejin we just can’t be together anymore,” Jia overhears the man say, and it’s only then that she realizes that the woman is begging him to stay.  

“Jimin, all I’m asking is why?” she hears the woman plead, her voice sounding weak and defeated, “I just— I just don’t understand—” she manages to stutter the sentence out, “Does it have to do with what you were telling me the other night? About feeling incompenent with your career?”

He vigorously shakes his head no, prepared to deny the accusation, “No—”

But she’s quick to cut him off, “Because if it is,” she squeezes his hand tighter, “I already told you I don’t care. I don’t care if you’re the poorest or richest man on the planet, okay? As long as I’m with you, I just don’t care,” she repeats, “You’re my person Jimin,” the woman, who Jia now identified as Yejin, with whatever energy she had left, forced a small smile to grace upon her lips. 

A small smile that spoke nothing but genuine love for the man across from her, but with eyes that were desperately hoping for a small sign that the man in front of her would break, “You’re all I have.”

The man, Jimin, instead of reciprocating the warm gesture, pulls his hands away, forcing himself to be the ultimate bad guy in this story. 

This was for the best he reasoned with himself, not for him, but for her. 

The woman in front of him who he loved so much that he couldn’t bear the thought of denying her a future where she’d have to worry everyday about what their future held, even if it meant not being with him, 

“It’s for that reason that we can’t….” he clears his throat, “After tonight we’ll be nothing more than strangers.” he says in a voice that hid any feeling of despair he felt, saving the emotion for later when he was by himself.

“Please,” her voice breaks, “Jimin please,” a single teardrop falls from her eye, “Our future, it'll be worth it, I promise. Every stupid stubborn inch of it because as long as I’m by your side we’ll get through anything. And when we’re old and gray we’ll laugh about this stupid conversation—”

“Yejin—”

“No,” Yejin shakes her head vigorously, desperately fighting tooth and nail for her boyfriend of 7 years and her childhood friend of even more, the person she thought she’d been through it all with, “I refuse to—”

“Yejin!” he firmly interrupts her before she could continue, unsure of just how much more he could hear, “Look at me.” Fuck Yejin. Don’t do this to me. Just accept it., was all he could think at the moment, “I’m—” for a second he struggles to say the words, struggles to officially shatter the heart that had trusted him enough to show itself completely bare, “I’m doing this for me. I’m choosing me. And I don’t know what else I can say or do for you to realize that,” how disgusting it felt to spew the lies out of his mouth.

And it was once he said those words, that Yejin no longer fought against what was happening. It was then that Jimin knew, she had finally accepted it. 

The two sat there in silence for what felt like an eternity, until Yejin grabbed her keys from the table, mustering the courage to be the first one to leave, but not before planting a soft kiss on top of Jimin’s head, a final gesture of good bye.

Jia, who’d witness the whole heartbreaking scene play out in front of her, struggled to tear her eyes away. But it was once she did, that she had noticed she wasn’t the only one who had paid attention to the break up.

Watching the couple, you looked as if you’d seen a ghost, truly at a loss for words. Never did you imagine you’d witness history repeat itself.

A voice breaks you away from your thoughts, “Grandma, are you okay?” Jia warily asks, concerned with why you looked so shocked.

“Oh,” you blink rapidly as if being brought back to reality, “Yeah, it’s just—” you glance at the booth once again, watching the man sulk in his seat. 

His head was leaned against the glass window, dazedly looking at the view outside. By now his eyes were puffy, the emotions he had kept bottled in, now manifesting itself in the salty tears that were now silently falling down his face. 

And before you could think twice, you grabbed the extra sandwich you had ordered and began to walk towards his booth, Jia following behind with a shocked expression.

“Grandma, what are you doing?!” she asks in a panicky tone, but before she could stop you from doing anything, you were already standing beside the booth the man was in. 

The dirty-blonde haired man turns his attention towards the two of you, a worn out expression on his face.

“You seem like you could use this,” you offer him the sandwich with a warm smile on your face, “a young man like you shouldn’t be in such distress, or else you’ll end up with wrinkles like mine,” you try to joke around, an attempt to brighten the mood. 

He lets out a forced chuckle, showing you that despite his down mood, he was still a very polite young man through and through.

“You don’t mind if we…” you stare at the seat across from him, signaling that you were hoping to sit. 

He looks as if he wants to say no, shyly avoiding eye contact for a moment, unsure of how to reject a kind old woman.

“Oh it’s just that um—” but before he could spew out an excuse, you were already making yourself comfortable in the booth, your granddaughter hesitantly sitting in the spot next to him, still giving you the “What are you doing” eyes. 

He feigns an awkward smile, scolding himself for being so timid. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the kind gesture, for any other day he would’ve been more than happy to receive a free BLT sandwich and make conversation with an elder, but tonight … well tonight he just wanted to sulk in his own misery.

“So what is a young man like you doing out here so late at night?” you ask, the closed eye smile on your face causing your wrinkles to protrude. 

He remains silent, unsure of what to respond with, “Was that your girlfriend just now who left?” you boldly ask, the phrase “having a filter” clearly not in your dictionary.

“Grandma!” Jia frantically says, “Sir I’m sorry, we’ll leave now,” she forces an awkward laugh, now getting up from the booth, “she can be a bit pushy—”

“She’s my ex now,” he surprisingly answers, catching not only Jia but himself off guard. 

You on the other hand remain with a warm sympathetic smile on your face. 

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what came over him to be so straightforward. He’d been holding so much in for so long, he figured that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to a random old lady and her granddaughter for a night. Not like he’d ever see them again, right?

Letting out a bitter scoff directed at himself, he continues, “I broke up with her just now Mrs—”

“Ms. y/l/n,” you correct him, “and this is my granddaughter Jia,” you signal to Jia to sit back down, and she watches the two of you with wary eyes, confused by the sudden conversational exchange between the two of you. 

Hmm, well she did want to know why he broke up with his girlfriend, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just sit and listen for a bit. Shaking his hand, she seats herself once more.

“You don’t seem too happy about your break up, for someone who did the breaking that is…” you lightheartedly comment, secretly analyzing his tense posture. Though relaxing just a bit, it was clear that he still didn’t feel completely comfortable sharing the details of his private life. It wasn’t surprising really, you were nothing more than a stranger. It wasn’t like you expected him to be so open, not right away at least, “you don’t mind me asking why?”

“Because—” he pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words, “we—” he sighs, holding back, “we just weren’t meant to be,” he ultimately says with a small sad smile on his face. 

You stare at him for what feels like an eternity, a frown now on your face.

“And what makes you say that?” you ask. 

He gulps, the intense stare from both you and Jia now making him nervous, “Because she’s destined for greatness,” he longingly states, “and I was nothing more than an obstacle along the way even if she didn’t realize it,” he looks down at the table, “Because all I want in this world is for her to live a long happy life, a life where she can do anything she pleases whenever she wants, without a worry in the world,” he concludes, now sporting a dull expression.

“You—” you clench your teeth, almost looking at him in disgust, “You stupid boy,” you harshly mumble, but still loud enough for both him and Jia to hear.

“Grandma!” Jia’s eyes widen, taken aback by your sudden rude remark, but all you can do is continue to stare at the man in front of you, a pained expression on your face. Almost as if you wanted to cry.

Jimin on the other hand didn’t know what to make of your words. Was he offended? No, not really. Surprised? Couldn’t say he was. Was it deserved? He’d like to think so. “Look—” he’s about to say something until you interrupt him.

“What about you?” you demand pointedly, “Don’t you care about what you want? What about your happiness?” you feel your upper lip tremble along with a rush of emotions that you were sure you hadn’t felt in years. 

Anger. Sadness. Fear. 

Everything you had kept bottled in for so long was beginning to make its appearance all because you witnessed this young man break up with his girlfriend.

“Grandma I think we should g—”

“No,” you firmly state, your voice slightly trembling, “I’m not going to let it happen again, I can’t,” a single tear falls from your face as you come into eye contact with the young man. God, he looked so much like him. 

Wiping the tear away, you quickly compose yourself, “I’m going to tell the two of you a story,” you point towards the boy, “and you better listen good and well,” you turn to your granddaughter, “you too little lady because it’s a lesson that can be learned by anyone.”

Her face twists to one of skepticism, but she silently nods her head, deciding she wasn’t going to push your buttons for she had never seen you act like this before. Jimin does the same as well, now fearing getting on your wrong side.

“Good,” you let out a deep breath of air, unsure of where to start. 

This was the first time in your life that you were telling someone absolutely everything, and never had you imagined it’d be in this exact diner with some random stranger (who you’d just happen to be a first hand witness of his breakup) and your granddaughter. 

But a part of you couldn’t help but think that maybe …just maybe it was meant to be this way. That coming to this diner and witnessing what you’d just seen was the universe’s way of telling you that just because your fate was already sealed, didn’t mean you couldn’t change someone else’s. And so you continue, “So I guess…” you pause, “I guess we should start at the beginning.”

“It was the year 1992, Nirvana had just released their all too famous album ‘Nevermind’ months prior to the new year, marking the first shift that we’d see in pop culture during the 90’s. People my age were beginning to slowly throw away their mousse bottles and bright colored outfits and opting in for a more toned down look of mom-jeans and oversized band shirts.

I had just turned 17 at the time and moved here to the city of Gwacheon because of my dad’s job. You wouldn’t believe me but back then this city we know now was a snooze fest. It was nothing but government official buildings and a vacant town center that played outdated music. 

I remember being so bitter about moving because like any other teen who moved from one city to another, I had just barely begun to make friends in the city before, only to find out I’d have to leave months later.

I remember having a childish frown on my face the whole ride to the new neighborhood, convinced that by having a fit I’d somehow have my way and go back to the city before, but all in all that’s where the story begins…”

“Mom it’s just not fair!” you complain, crossing your arms while leaning your head against the window, watching as the new town you’d have to learn to call home was nearing with every stop, “I was just beginning to get used to that school, I was even supposed to go on a date!”

Sighing, your mom turns from the passenger's seat to face you, a mix of sympathy and annoyance on her face. It’d been over 4 hours already of hearing you complain in the car, and though your dad had learned to mute you out from the driver’s seat, your mom had to endure each and every complaint. 

“Y/N you know your dad’s job requires him to move around from time to time, it’s something out of our control, unless you’re magically going to find him a job out there that pays him as much as his current one then be my guest,” she stares at you knowingly, while you stay silent. 

She furrows her brows once she notices something about your appearance, “And what did I tell you about lining your lips like that? And that thing around your neck you’re wearing, you’re lucky it hasn’t suffocat—”

“It’s called a choker and everyone my age wears them mom,” you roll your eyes, wanting this conversation to be over now, despite it being you who started it, “times are changing meaning fashion is too.”

“I thought you kids liked the whole poofy hair and leg warmers kind of stuff. And that one man who's always on MTV,” she twiddles her fingers, trying to remember his name, “you know the one who danced as a zombie in that one video, how does it go again—” she begins to snap her fingers, humming the tune, “cause this is Thriller,” she sings.

“Michael Jackson mom, Michael Jackson,” you answer in annoyance, how the hell did she not know his name?

“Ahh that’s his name,” she laughs, “I’m sorry I’m not so invested in that kind of stuff like you young people are.”

You roll your eyes at this, “Mom I’m sure even grandma knows who Michael Jackson is, you’re just—” but before you could go on any further, the car suddenly comes to a halt.

“And here we are,” your dad finally speaks, an exhausted sigh coming out of his mouth. 

The moving truck, which was following right behind you guys had made its stop as well and while your parents immediately stepped out the car to begin attending to the family things, you just looked at your new home in a mix of dismay and surprise. It was definitely a nice home, it’s resemblance to the houses around you being a bit uncanny.

Suddenly, interrupting your deep thinking, your car door opens. 

Your mom, who for some reason had a complete 180 turn in attitude, now had an impatient look on her face along with an eyebrow raised. “You’re either going to help your dad take out our things or you’re coming with me to introduce ourselves to the neighbors.”

You stare at her for a moment, thinking to yourself which one you wanted to do. Though still slightly pissed off at your dad for his sudden bomb drop of news that you were all moving, you weren’t exactly in the mood to be social right now, let alone with your new neighbors as it would just ultimately mean having to accept the reality of your situation. “I think I’ll just—”

“Come with me? Great,” your mom answers for you, and you only groan in irritation. You couldn’t say you were shocked as this was only expected from her.

Getting out of the car, you begin to follow her to the next door neighbor’s house on the left side of your new home, your mom having come to the conclusion that the neighbors on the right side must’ve not been home due to the lack of cars in the driveway, “And remember y/n, be nice,” she reminds you, noticing the family SUV parked outside the house, she adds, “and who knows maybe there’s someone your age you can make friends with here.”

You stay silent, not sure if whether finding someone your age living inside the house would be a good or bad thing. 

At your last house, there was a girl your exact same age who despite being a very kind person, was just a little too talkative. You’d often randomly find her in your room after learning that your mom let her in because she thought that “that’s what teen girls like to do right? Gossip and cut up some magazines in their room.” Not only would you find yourself getting migraines all the time but you were just too nice to kick her out.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The muffled sound of what you could only assume were kids running around and things being thrown made you mumble “Oh great,” to yourself. If your mom got friendly with the neighbors like she somehow always did, you’d find yourself babysitting these kids sometime in the future for free. 

Minutes pass and nothing. 

Personally you took that as a sign of ‘do not disturb’ but your mom, being the relentless person she was, knocked one more time.

“Mom clearly they don’t want to—” and of course just as you were about to convince her to leave, the sound of the kids screaming and laughing comes to a sudden halt and the door swings wide open. 

There in front of you stood a middle-aged woman, probably near your mom’s age, who had her hair completely disheveled and one of her kids (a little girl) in her arms while the other (a little boy) gripping onto her right leg like a sloth holding onto a branch.

Despite her stressed appearance, there was still a sense of motherly tidiness to her. “Hello,” your mom greets with a grin on her face, “we just came to introduce ourselves as your new next door neighbors,” she sticks her hand out for the woman to shake, “I’m y/m/n.”

The woman, who looks a bit confused at first, suddenly snaps back to reality with a “Ohh” expression on her face remembering that the house aside from her having its “For Sale” sign removed not too long ago. 

She’s quick to shake your mom’s hand in return, “Kim Yerin,” she smiles, “and these are my twins, Minjun and Yeonha. Say hi you two,” she nudges the little girl in her arms who currently had her head rested on her mother’s shoulder while doing the same to the boy wrapped around her leg.

The two, clearly shy in front of strangers, only stare at the two of you with curious eyes, “And this must be your daughter I assume,” the woman faces her attention towards you, who had just been quietly watching the exchange, and waits for you to introduce yourself.

Your face slightly reddens when you feel your mother nudge you, “Y/N,” your introduction comes out as more of a whisper.

“And how old are you?” she curiously asks.

“Just turned seventeen,” you answer, an awkward smile forming on your face.

And as if a lightbulb suddenly went off on her head, a huge grin appears on her face, “You’re my older sons age,” she chuckles, “I don’t know if he’s come back home yet,” she mumbles looking behind her and your nerves begin to rise as you know what she’s about to do, “Seokjin!” she yells loud enough that her voice echoes across the walls of her home, “Give me a moment,” she flashes you two a smile before slightly closing the door, placing her foot in the ridge in order to create a crack so that it wouldn’t be completely closed. “Seokjin!” she calls for her son again, and soon you hear the sound of feet scuffling down the stairs.

“You and that camcorder, we have guests,” you hear her say.

“Say hiiii,” a voice behind the door says and you soon hear the kids giggle. 

Yerin opens the door all the way once again, and to your surprise you come to face a tall boy with a camcorder blocking most of his face. 

With the lens facing your direction, a whispered “Woah,” then comes out of his mouth. The sound of the lens zooming in causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

“Seokjin,” his mother says more harshly, making him set the camera down and finally reveal his face. And once he did… wow were you surprised. 

Though he was sporting what you considered an outdated mullet, the boy was relatively handsome. Currently dressed in a simple black fitted long sleeve shirt and cuffed blue jeans, the young man stuck his hand out for you to shake, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Seokjin but you can call me Jin for short,” he politely introduces himself.

Awkwardly avoiding eye contact, you return the shake, “Y/N.”

“Seokjin, I was just telling y/n here that you two are the same age, maybe you could show her around school this Monday,” she suggests, and your mom is quick to chime in.

“Maybe he can show her around town right now, I’m sure she’d love that, wouldn’t you y/n? That’s if he can of course,” she adds and your eyes widen at the suggestion. Soon it becomes apparent that both you and Jin are feeling flustered at both your mothers’ intrusiveness.

“I d-d—” you stutter.

“Mom…” he begins, his ears reddening. Unbeknownst to you, you’d soon find out that it was something that only occurred whenever he was nervous.

“I’ll even lend you the car this one time,” his mother says, grabbing the keys from the key rack next to door and handing them to him.

A silence momentarily fills the air, awkwardness seeping deep until Mrs. Kim breaks it, “Well go you two! me and Mrs….”

“Y/L/N,” your mom completes for her.

“Will be here drinking tea inside and waiting for you to return,” she gently pushes Jin, who had just put on his Converse, out the door while your mom begins to make her way inside, “And remember to drive safe Seokjin,” she says for a final time before practically slamming the door shut.

The two of you stand there for what feels like forever, staring at anything but each other’s eyes. 

“Sorry about that, my mom can be a bit… pushy,” he says, and you want to tell him that it's fine, that your mom is exactly the same, but the words can’t seem to come out. “So…” he mumbles, barely audible to the ear, “Where should we go first?” he asks fiddling with keys in his hands, which only causes you to look at him in confusion. Did he forget you weren’t from here?

“Um…” you say, and slowly he fits the puzzle pieces and realizes what exactly he had asked.

“Oh right,” he awkwardly laughs, scratching the back of his neck as a nervous gesture. 

You notice that he’s still holding his camcorder with the other hand, its small red button still glowing, and so out of nowhere you voice the first question that came to your mind.

“Is that thing still recording?” you ask which averts his attention to the grey bulky object in his hand.

“Oh I must’ve forgot to turn it off,” he says, genuinely surprised at his lousy mistake, “My bad,” he adds and you shake your head in a way to say that it was fine. “So … are you hungry?” he kindly asks, and you think to yourself for a moment … the two of you had to go somewhere as it wasn’t like you could just walk right back in and lie.

Gently, you shrug your shoulders, “Yeah I can go for something to eat,” you say, which by now was the longest sentence he’d heard you speak since your introduction to him.

“Great,” he smiles, making his way towards the Hyundai SUV with you following close behind. To your surprise he walks over to your side and opens the door “like a gentleman” before entering the car himself. You mumble a quiet “thank you,” in return.

It’s once he turns on the ignition that you begin to dread the awkwardness inside the car. It wasn’t that you weren’t a social person because truly you were, or at least you always tried to be. You were just never good at initiating conversations first because honestly, who was? The image of your mom immediately came to your mind, but she was different. That lady could spark a conversation with a plant if she really wanted to.

“And here’s the number one song in the country for a third week straight, Emotions by Mariah Carey!” the radio host announces and soon the famous tune begins to play causing Jin to tap his finger against the driving wheel, clearly a fan of the song. 

You on the other hand kept your attention on the view outside, noting how boring this town was. From the dull buildings to the empty streets, everything was just so boring. But you couldn’t complain too much, for in a couple of months from now you’d be well off on your way to a college in the city of Seoul, which even though it wasn’t too far from here, it was still much more populated.

“So y/n,” Jin lowers the music down, “where did you move from?” he asks, an attempt at making conversation while driving.

“Buk district in Busan,” you answer in a short and precise manner.

“Oh…” he simply says, “Did you like it over there?”

The delivery of the question causes you to quietly chuckle to yourself, “Yeah I did,” you smile to yourself remembering the friends you had made over there, but almost immediately you remember that any chance of ever seeing them again was long gone, and a frown soon replaces the small smile.

Jin notices the change in facial expression from you, “Well I’m sure you’ll like it around here,” he attempts to comfort you, “I know things may look a little different, hell maybe even a little boring,” he laughs, “but trust me you’ll learn to love this place,” he flashes you a reassuring smile.

To that you could only feign a look of happiness. Not wanting to be a complete asshole, you try and think of something you could ask him, something to spark a conversation like he was trying to. 

“It’s Jin right… “ you ask, and to that he nods, “um…” you hum, “how old are your siblings?” you stifly ask, adding an extra comment at the end, “I heard them being pretty um … hyper…  before my mom knocked.”

Immediately a smile appears on his face, “Ahh Minjun and Yeonha,” he chuckles, “they’re four but turning five in a couple of months. They’re a handful,” he jokes around, “but we wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, referring to him and the rest of his family.

“And they’re your only siblings?” 

He nods, shrugging while answering, “Yeah, but I always wanted siblings growing up and so to not only get one but two at the same time was pretty cool,” he glances at you, “what about you?”

You nod your head no, “My mom told me that once she had me and dealt with all the sleepless nights due to me crying all the time, that she knew one was enough,” you manage to joke around, the atmosphere in the car now becoming less tense.

“I think my parents thought the same way, but surprises happen,” he laughs, “I mean it’s probably a good thing that I was pretty old when they were born. It meant an extra set of hands to help around the house especially considering my dad’s always working.” 

And at the mention of his father you couldn’t help but grow a little curious. He was the only person you hadn’t been introduced to and despite Jin’s mother being an overall gorgeous woman, you assumed that Jin must’ve gotten his most prominent features from his dad as his mother didn’t really resemble him.

“What does he work in?” you continue the flow of the conversation.

“He’s a finance manager for one of the many corporation companies you’ll find around here,” and to that he frowns, “I’m assuming your dad must work in a similar field.”

You look at the window again, “Yeah,” you sigh, “so I guess a lot of people around here work in the business field.” 

“I think that’s what causes this place to be a little boring sometimes,” he comments, focusing on the road in front of him, “The lack of creativity,” and by looking at the buildings and overall aura of the town, you understand what he means, “People here already have expectations set on them, and with the pressure of being successful, no one ever really takes the risk of pursuing what they’re really passionate about.”

“Hm,” you hum, unsure of what to add to that, for Jin had hit the nail on its head.

“Butttttt,” he sings, “when you meet people like me you’ll realize not everyone around here is the same,” and with that he piques your curiosity, the car suddenly coming to a halt.

Looking out the window, you notice you’re in front of an old school diner, it’s neon lights currently turned off because of the daylight. Not that it really mattered, as the bright cherry red and blue color painted walls were definitely enough to grab anyone’s attention. 

Through the see through glass you notice a group of guys sitting at one of the booths, staring at the two of you as you both exited the car. A mixture of both excitement (which you assumed was directed at Jin) and confusion (which was probably directed on you) on their faces.

“Come on, follow me,” Jin says, leading you inside to the group of boys who looked around your age. 

They’re quick to greet Jin, practically shouting his name across the diner. It must’ve been a regular occurrence because none of the waiters even turned to focus their attention on them, “Somehow I knew you guys would be here,” Jin teases.

One of the boys rolls their eyes, “So are you going to introduce us to your new lady friend?” he smiles, and immediately the spotlight is set on you, both you and Jin standing in front of their booth.

“Y/N this is Yoongi,” Jin points at the boy who asked the daring question, “This is Taehyung,” he points at the boy next to him, “and finally this is Namjoon,” he points at the final boy across from them, “You guys this is y/n. She just moved here from Busan.”

“Ahh Busan!” the black haired boy, Taehyung, says excitedly, “I once had a pen pal from there,” he trivially says causing the other boys to laugh.

“Ahh Taehyung and his pen pals,” Yoongi shakes his head, tapping the boys shoulders, “And how did that one out of the many turn out?” he asks in a joking manner, only causing Taehyung to pout, knowing Yoongi was teasing him.

“Hmm,” he groaned, “It’s only been a couple of months without a reply, that doesn’t mean we’re not friends anymore!”

“Yeah Yeah Yeah,” Yoongi rolls his eyes again, scooting to the side to make space for you, “Well don’t just stand there, sit,” he lightly teases, and you glance at Jin as if to confirm if it was okay to do so. He smiles at your shyness, confident that you’d get along with his friends just fine, it’d just take some warming up on your part until then. 

Setting his camcorder down on the table, he takes a seat next to Namjoon while you take yours next to Yoongi and Taehyung.

“So y/n,” Namjoon speaks up, “how are you liking it here so far?” But before you can think of a response, Jin answers for you.

“She literally just moved here,” he glances at the clock on the wall, “like an hour ago,” he laughs, “I don’t even think she’s unpacked her stuff.”

“Well don’t expect too much,” Yoongi says, contradicting what Jin had told you earlier, “this place is a snooze fest!” he dramatically adds, only causing Jin to nudge him with his leg from under the table, “Hey it's true, if it weren’t for you guys I’d be dying of boredom all the time.”

“Which is exactly why we need to show y/n the best spots in town to visit and how to have some fun,” Jin declares and to that, the boys shrug, not minding the new addition to their group.

“Well wasn’t that easy,” you think to yourself, it seemed making friends wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be.

“As long as you’re not some kind of party pooper then—”

“Like there's parties in town to even poop at,” Taehyung interrupts causing Yoongi to look at him with a “Huh?” expression making everyone including yourself laugh out loud.

“You do realize it’s not literal—” but before he could continue, Yoongi raises his hand to cover his face, “You and that camera Jin,” and immediately you follow suit, having failed to notice that Jin had turned on his camcorder. Taehyung instead of covering his face, poses by flashing two peace signs, while Namjoon flashed his dimpled smile once the camera was pointed to him.

“Ahh why do you feel the need to record everything?” Yoongi asks, still covering his face.

“You’ll thank me later,” Jin says, “Come on y/n say hiiii,” he begins to near the camera to your face.

“Does he always do this?” you ask his friends around him, and to that they nod.

“He says it’s his practice for becoming a director in the future, but….” Namjoon playfully scoffs, “I don’t see the point in recording absolutely everything.”

“Because I want to make sure when I find the project I want to create, I’ll have all the film I need.” Slowly you take your hands off your face once you notice he wasn’t going to relent anytime soon, “Come on, you know you wanna smileeee,” he sings, and slowly but surely you smile indeed. An awkward one, but a smile nonetheless.

“Well cheers to a new friendship,” Taehyung flashes you his signature boxy smile, raising his milkshake drink in the air, Namjoon and Yoongi imitating the action. You and Seokjin on the other hand create an imaginary motion as if you had drink in your hands, grateful for the blossoming friendship in the making.

“After that first day in Gwacheon, Seokjin along with his friends showed me the best spots in town, whether it was somewhere to eat or somewhere to simply get a good view, they were showing me things that proved the boring town to be different than what it seemed. 

Seokjin would especially be eager to show me his favorite spots, always recording my reactions to first time meals or whenever he’d show me a new location. When I’d ask him why, he’d tell me it was because it was like watching a kid eat candy for the first time.

Soon I’d find myself hanging out with him the most, I’m not sure if it was because we were next door neighbors or maybe it was because he was my first friend here, but it wasn’t like I was complaining. It seemed as if with every time we hung out, I was learning something new about him, never a day too dull…”

“You’re not even blowing into it,” Jin complains, watching as you blew air into the Mario game cartridge, your face getting red at your serious effort, “Let me see,” he says, but to that you stubbornly refuse, continuing to blow heavy puffs of air into it.

For the past hour the two of you had been playing his new Mario game on the Nintendo SNES, but out of nowhere the game completely blacked out. 

Suspecting that there must have been built-up dust in the cartridge, you took it as your responsibility to blow air into it.

“Fine,” you hiss, passing him the game.

“Ah don’t be like that either,” he teases, squeezing your cheek with his hand.

“Hey!” you cry out and he raises his hands to his defense.

“Sorry I can’t help it,” he laughs, “they’re just so…” he pauses, “squeezable?”

You flip him off, only making him laugh even more, “Just fix the game already,” you mumble, not actually offended, but pretending to be which he of course was used to by now.

Knock. Knock.

“Seokjinnieeee!” the sound of his younger sister’s voice, Yeonha, fills the room. Immediately she goes to tackle him, and Jin (pretending that she was stronger than him) playfully throws himself on the floor only causing her to go into a fit of giggles. 

Then out of nowhere you feel tiny arms wrap themselves around your shoulders, “Y/Nieeee,” Minjun blitzes you from behind, a grin now appearing on your face. 

With his arms still wrapped around your shoulders, you get up from the floor and begin to run around the room, pretending to be an airplane soaring across the sky.

“Do that too! Do that too!” Yeonha commands Seokjin, forcibly wrapping her arms around his very broad shoulders. 

And soon the two of you find yourselves going at “war” with one other, purposely missing each other whenever it’d look like you two would crash as a scare effect for the kids.

By the time you two were all done, you were out of breath and completely exhausted. “Again, again, again!” you hear the two kids squeal, but you were just way too tired to go at it a second time.

Feigning a sad expression on your face, you say, “I’m sorry, I have to be back for dinner soon at my house, but next time I see you I promise you we’ll do that again for you guys.”

Both of the kids, with a saddened expression on their faces, simultaneously go “Aww.” but completely understand, knowing you were never one to falsify your promises.

“Wait you do?” Seokjin asks, completely believing your lie. Glaring at him, you wink at him in a knowing way, and though it takes him a while, he quietly says “Ohh.” once he understands. Scratching the back of his neck, he says, “How bout I walk you out haha,” he innocently smiles with his eyes closed.

“Byeeee Y/N,” the kids say, their attention already on something else.

Waving goodbye, you and Jin make your way downstairs, greeted by his mom, who had used to the time that you two spent playing with kids to make dinner, 

“Already leaving Y/N?” she asks when she spots your backpack in your hand, “I made japchae, I’m sure your mom wouldn’t mind you staying for dinner,” she kindly suggests, but you politely nod your head no.

“It’s fine Mrs. Kim,” you say, “I don’t want to lessen the servings any more than I should.”

“You sure I can always—” she’s about to say something until she meets Jin’s expression, which was one of panic. Subtly he was nodding his head in a way to say that she should drop it, not only his ears, but his face becoming red. Softly chuckling to herself, she drops the subject, “Ahh well have a good night y/n.”

“Goodnight Mrs. Kim,” you dismiss yourself, Jin following right behind you as you make your way out the door.

“Whew I sure am tired,” you say once you hear the door behind you close, now standing on his front porch, the sun beginning to set, “We didn’t even get to work on our calculus homework,” you mention, feigning a chuckle. 

Jin shrugs, “I doubt we were gonna work on it either way,” he laughs changing the topic, “So y/n um…” he pauses, feeling a lump in his throat form as he nervously rocked back and forth, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something I just don’t know how you’ll react…”

You look at him with a genuine clueless expression on your face. Moments of silence pass before you respond, “Well go on ahead,” you laugh, “you know you can tell me anything,” you smile at him.

And for a moment it feels as if the words can’t come out, the fear of being denied overwhelming the feeling of hope, “Um well…” he gulps, “you know it’s been a couple of months since you moved here and well…” he avoids eye contact with you, “I feel like I see you all the time…” he continues, and for a small second you become scared … Did you do something? Did he no longer ever wanna see you again? With that thought, you feel your stomach drop, “And well I wanted to tell you that I—”

“Oh y/n honey, you forgot your notebook!” Jin’s mom suddenly opens the door, interrupting the moment and catching the both of you by surprise. 

Jin immediately shoots his mom a “What are you doing?” look, but it seems like she didn’t catch onto it as she continued having a huge smile on her face. Oh what a kind … oblivious … woman she could be sometimes.

“O-oh,” you stutter, still in a state of surprise at her sudden intrusion, “Um thank you Mrs. Kim, um I should get going!” you awkwardly laugh, “Um I’ll see you at school tomorrow Jin!” you wave goodbye, practically running back to your house. The last thing you hear before closing your own door was the sound of Jin groaning, “Moooom!”

“Ah y/n you made it just in time for dinner,” your own mother greets you, “For a moment I thought you’d spend dinner with the Kims’ for another night,” she teases, causing a ferocious blush to appear on your cheeks.

“What makes you say that?” you mumble while avoiding eye contact, only causing her to send you a knowing look.

Deciding she’d play along with your oblivious act this once, she shrugs, “Hmm I don’t know, maybe because there’s a special someone you like in that house of theirs.” 

Your blush deepens.

“Not true,” is all you can muster, “We’re just close friends, that’s all,” you state, but deep down you knew you could only wish for more.

“Mmm well y/n, time is ticking,” she playfully sings, “if you don’t confess soon, who knows when you’ll get the chance once you’re off at college. Just ask your dad, he had to wait 4 years until I came back to our hometown to confess. Isn’t that right y/f/n?” she turns to your dad, who was currently watching Cheers on the television.

Getting up from the couch, he makes his way over to you two, “What’s this about a boy I’m hearing?” he turns on his “Protective Dad” persona.

To that, you roll your eyes, “Dad,” you laugh as he ruffles your hair, placing a kiss to your forehead, “I need to go do my homework,” you announce, needing an excuse to get to your room and out of this conversation.

Your mom narrows her eyes at you, knowing exactly what you were doing but choosing to act dumb about it, “Then what are you doing here young lady, go get to it!” she commands, watching you immediately turn and make your way up the stairs.

“Ah kids these days,” your mom says under her breath, shaking her head in amusement, silently rooting for the two of you.

“I wouldn’t find out that Jin was trying to confess to me that night until a couple of years later in some random conversation, and when I tell you there were several other attempts on both his part and mine to confess, I really mean it. But it was almost as if the universe was waiting for the right moment to let it happen. I just never would’ve thought that the moment would be one so …. unexpected ….”

“So how is he?” you ask Jin’s mother, placing the care basket you made for Jin on his dining table.

“Well you know it is,” she laughs, “no parent really wants to see their kid high off of anesthesia, especially because he’s just been talking complete nonsense for the past hour and refusing to take a nap. But I prefer this than having him walk around with his wisdom teeth aching him.”

You nod your head in understanding, “You don’t mind if I—” and she nods her head yes, understanding what you were insinuating.

“Go for it,” she smiles, “he’ll probably scold me tomorrow for allowing you to see him in that state, but I’m sure he’ll get over it,” she chuckles.

And without a moment of hesitation, you make your way up the stairs and into his room, the first thing you hear is your name being loudly shouted. 

“Y/N!” he slurs out your name, his high pitched laughter following right after. 

A grin immediately appears on your face as you watch the boy who even though was usually in a joking mood most of the time, now had that same mood heightened because of the anesthesia.

You take a seat on the corner of his bed, “How are you feeling Jin?” you ask, genuinely wanting an answer.

He shoots you a toothy grin and gives you not one, but two thumbs up, “I’m feeling amaaaazinnggg,” he sings, “especially now that you’re here,” he dramatically winks.

You feel your face redden, “This is the effects of the anesthesia,” you tell yourself, not allowing yourself to have false hope.

“Y/N Y/N Y/N,” he hums, “you’re so prettyyyyyy,” he stammers his words, his swollen cheeks making it hard to take him seriously.  

“Really? You think?” you go along with him, to which he nods.

“Veryyyyy,” he adds, “too bad I can’t completely see you!” he exclaims, only causing your brow to quirk in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t see you!” he repeats in a sardonic tone, almost as if you were dumb for not understanding. It isn’t until you notice that the bangs of his mullet, which was usually parted, were now prickling at his eyes, probably causing his view of you to be blocked by certain strands of hair.

Laughing to yourself, you grab one of the hairpins you had on and scoot closer to him, carefully clipping his bangs to the side, “Ta da,” you giggle at Jin’s childlike expression, “Now you can see me,” you say.

“Now I can see you,” he repeats in awe, and maybe it was because of the effects of the anesthesia but for some reason you looked much more ethereal than usual. Suddenly, out of nowhere Jin grabs his camera from the bed stand, and you look at him in amazement.

You let out a breath of disbelief, “How is it that even when you’re high off of anesthesia, you still somehow manage to pull out that camera of yours?” you ask him.

“Because y/n, 50 years from now the world needs to know how pretty you areeeee,” he looks at you like a lovestruck fool, his eyes halfway closed as he points the lens in your direction.

“Who would’ve thought that Jin could be such a flirt?” you think to yourself.

“I’m not!” Jin pouts, and it’s only then that you realize you must’ve said the thought out loud, “I’m only flirty with you because I like youuuuu,” he gushes.

“Jin you don’t know what you’re saying,” you blink slowly, not sure whether to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“Oh but I do!” he barks back like a toddler, “I’ve been trying to confess to you for sooooooo long but I get interrupted EACH. AND. EVERY. TIME,” he complains, and suddenly you feel your heart pound ten times faster, an idiotic smile now forming on your face, “like seriously, every time I get the courage to finally fess up, something just has to happen,” he rambles on, now turning off the camera, something you take note of.

Affectionately, you play with some of the strands of his hair from the back, watching him yawn in the process, “Come on silly boy, I think it’s time for you to sleep,” and surely he does in no time, his soft snores filling the room. 

It’s only then that you grab a post-it note from his desk, scribbling something you were sure he’d read the next day. Happily making your way downstairs, excited for what was to come.

That same night when Jin groggily woke up from his nap, he was confused as to why he had a glitter hair pin in his hair, and why his camera had a post-it note attached to it on his wooden desk. Grabbing the camera, he immediately recognized the handwriting.

‘check your footage from yesterday, you can thank me later xx. y/n.’

And it was once he did that he could’ve swore he felt his eyes go as wide as saucers, his mouth gaping completely open. “I-I confessed,” he says to himself, unsure of whether he really believed it or not, “I confessed!” he repeats to himself, this time much more confident and enthusiastic about it.

Deciding he had no time to waste, he quickly ran down his stairs, his mom confusingly staring at him as he began to grab his jacket and shoes, “And where do you think you’re going?” she asks. 

“Mom, I confessed!” he excitedly shouts before slamming the door behind him shut, ready to knock on your door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Oh Jin!” your mother greets him, amused by his swollen right cheek, “What a surprise,” she chuckles.

“Hello Mrs. Y/L/N,” he respectfully greets, “any chance y/n’s here?” he politely asks, hoping you were home.

Based on the excited look on Jin’s face she could only imagine that he had only good news to share, and so she didn’t hesitate to call you down, “Y/N!” she shouts, and as if you were waiting for it, your bedroom door opens without a second even passing. 

Quickly you make your way down, your mom already having a sense as to what was going to happen by the excited expression on both of your faces. Closing the door once you made your way out, she immediately presses her ear against it.

“Y/N,” Jin breathes out, “I-I confe-OW,” he loudly groans, completely forgetting about his mouth still being sore from the procedure, only causing you to laugh. Even now the universe was finding ways to delay the inevitable.

“You confessed,” you instead say for him, and he nods excitedly, holding his mouth in pain. But it’s only then that he realizes … just because he confessed didn’t mean you automatically felt the same way.  

His face reddens. 

Ready to make a dash for it, you grab his hand before he could. A touching smile now on your face, “I like you too,” you say, squeezing his hand in reassurance. And immediately you see the relief wash over him, his tense shoulders relaxing.

“I’d kiss you, but I don’t think I can move my lips,” he manages to mumble out, the sudden jolt of pain minutes earlier now making it hard for him to talk.

You giggle at this, then tippy toeing and placing a peck to his lips, deciding that it’d be enough to satisfy the two of you. And without notice your mom opens the door, making the two of you jump in surprise.

“Awwwww, finally!” she pretends to weep, and you’re quick to furrow your brows.

“Mom!”

“And so that was the exact moment our friendship had officially blossomed into something more… I had officially fallen in love with the boy next door. And so we spent the rest of the school year doing whatever it is high school couples do. The occasional hand holding here and there, the timid kisses, but most importantly… despite there now being a shift in our relationship, we still spoke to one another like the best of friends we were before. Because at the end of the day he was still just the boy next door.

But of course soon we’d find ourselves having to confront the looming topic over our heads … college.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The door opens.

“It arrived,” you frantically say to the boy in front of you, an envelope in your hand. He motions for you to come in, his heart now beating as fast as yours.

Sitting down on the dining chair, you watch as he runs up the stairs to his room in order to grab the envelope that had arrived at his house a day prior to yours. 

The sealed envelopes, which read ‘Seoul National University” in a big blue font along with its famous logo stamped onto it were now being held by your guys’ jittery fingers. 

“When are they getting here?” you ask Jin, who had just seated himself.

Glancing at his watch, he answers, “Any second now,” his foot bounces up and down out of nervousness, “I told them to be here an hour earlier than planned because I knew they’d get here late,” he says, patting himself in the back for his trick.

“Well they need to get here faster,” you complain, tapping your nails against the table.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Finally,” you groan, watching the rest of your friends walk into Jin’s kitchen.

“Sorry we caught traffic,” Taehyung lies, munching on his last fry.

You roll your eyes at the poor attempt, ”You’re such a bad liar,” you say, deciding not to press him any further on the issue. “Let’s just get to opening these things.”

The boys nod, taking a final deep breath in, ready to rip open the envelopes. 

“Wait,” Jin suddenly demands, “Let me set the camera,” and immediately he’s met with dramatic eye rolls and groans, but you guys allow him to do so nonetheless. “Okay you guys, remember whatever the results are behind these, we all have to promise ourselves that it won’t change anything. It doesn’t make anyone better than the rest, and we’ll all certainly still be friends in college,” he says and you all nod in agreement, for a moment forgetting that whatever the results were inside your envelopes, you’d all still remain friends no matter what.

“Okay, 1..2...3,” you count down, and at the same time you all pull out your decision letters.

“I got in!” Namjoon yells excitedly.

“Me too!” Taehyung says after him, a grin on his face.

“Holy shit, me too,” Yoongi repeats after him.

“Me as well,” Seokjin says nonchalantly, not exactly caring for his acceptance but more about yours as he immediately turns his attention towards you. 

Having watched you stay up late studying for the entrance exams for the past couple of weeks, he knew just how nervous you were about these letters and as both your boyfriend and your friend, he couldn’t help but root for you much more than himself.

But it’s once he sees the saddened expression on your face that he knows …

“Y/N…” Taehyung whispers in sadness.

“I—” you slouch your shoulders, looking away from their gazes, “I didn’t get in,” you murmur, your voice signaling that you were on the verge of crying. 

Jin is quick to turn off the camera and goes to wrap his arms around you, placing a soft kiss on top of your head and softly rubbing your back in an effort to comfort you. He sends a look to the boys as if to say he thinks it’d be best for them to leave, for now at least.

They nod in understanding, beginning to make their way out until they hear you say “Wait!” and at an attempt to ease the tension, you try and hide the sadness in your voice, “Congratulations, truly,” you send them a weak smile before they leave, and they send you a small smile in return, sad that their friend didn’t get into the college of their dreams.

“Hey don’t cry,” Jin comforts you, giving you more pecks on top of your head, feeling his heart swell more and more by the second.

“I thought I worked so hard,” you sniffle, the tears slowly falling down your cheeks.

“Hey don’t say that! You did work hard princess,” he scolds you, pulling you into a tight hug and tipping your chin up so that he could look at you properly, a soft look on his face while he brushed your hair away from your face, “That stupid school doesn’t know what they’re missing out on, you hear me?” He squeezes your cheek when you don’t reply, “Heyyyyyyyy, don’t ignore meeee,” he teases, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

All you can do is roll your eyes once you feel your cheeks get hot, damn him and his everlasting effect on you. “My dad’s going to be so disappointed,” you mumble, already dreading the conversation. The sole reason you even wanted to get into that school was to impress him, to make him feel that he didn’t have to worry about your future.

“No he’s not,” Jin states in confidence, and you look at him in curiosity, “because your dad is nothing like mine,” he jokes, reassuring you, “Because I’m sure that for both your mom and dad, as long as you’re happy and pursuing whatever it is you want to, they’ll be more than happy to support you along the way.”

“You think so?” you ask him, a small pout on your lips.

“Ah I know so princess,” he gives you a small comforting smile, “Come on let’s watch a movie and eat some popcorn before you go home. I just bought Goodfellas on VHS the other day,” he says, leading you to the living room, the heavy feeling that had been weighing down your chest, not so heavy anymore.

“And so that night I told my parents the decision SNU had made, and just like Jin said they were completely supportive, not even the slightest disappointed. Luckily, the college that did accept me was not at all far away from Seoul National University meaning Jin and I did not have to worry about a ‘long distance relationship’ because trust me, a long distance relationship in the 90s was even ten times more harder to manage than how you kids have it today with your phones.

Honestly, our first year in college passed by in the blink of an eye. I’m not sure if it's because I was always with Jin and our group of friends running around in a big old city with so many more different things to explore, but by the time we reached our second year, we were beginning to ask ourselves where time was going by…. “

“Cheers to our first year!” you and the boys lift up your drinks of Soju, clinking the bottles as a way of commemorating your first successful year in college.

Laughter fills the air while you all talk about the good and the bad of college, from the nightmare drunk stories to typing last minute essays on a jammed computer inside the library. “To think we were all panicking about how we���d do,” Yoongi says, shaking his head.

“I know, but now we have to start declaring our majors soon,” Taehyung mentions, “I still don’t know whether I want to major in sociology or psychology…”

“Me neither, I’ve been leaning towards linguistics,” Namjoon adds, “What about you y/n?” he asks you.

You think about it for a moment before answering, “Engineering Physics.”

“Woah,” Namjoon looks at you in shock, “Good luck to you,” he jokingly scoffs.

You shrug, a certain glimmer appearing in your eyes as you make eye contact with him, “Don’t you find it interesting? The possibilities of there being more than one universe out there, different dimensions, hell maybe even a parallel universe!” you say in excitement, clearly passionate about the field, “Namjoon there’s probably hundreds of you who like to pick their nose just like you!” you throw in the playful jab, making him flip you off while the rest of the boys laugh their asses off.

“What about you Jin?” Yoongi asks his longtime friend, who for some reason tonight was quieter than usual, something clearly on his mind.

And as if brought back to reality he looks at all you with a surprised expression, “O-oh,” he stutters, “um Business Administration?” he says, unconvinced of his own answer.

Yoongi nods his head, “As expected, as expected. Business does run in the family,” and though you know Yoongi meant no harm in the comment, you couldn’t help but notice how tense Jin got after hearing it, as if it only further killed his mood.

“Hey,” you softly whisper into his ear, grabbing his attention while Yoongi begins to talk about something else, “everything good?” 

Immediately his expression softens, and he quietly nods yes, not wanting you to worry. But no matter how well Jin thought he was at hiding emotions like sadness or anger from you, any change in his behavior, albeit small or large, was always obvious to you.

Making a mental note to talk to him later, you subtly keep an eye on him for the rest of night, your mind wondering what it could be.

Jin plays with your loose strands of hair while he watches you soundly sleep, your skin warm and slick with the efforts of your earlier endeavors.

It hadn’t been long since he moved into this apartment with Namjoon, and though you weren’t exactly officially living with them, with the number of mornings he’d wake up to having you beside him, he and Namjoon might as well have considered you their third roommate. 

Not like Joon was complaining, the breakfasts he’d wake up to you making completely cancelling out the occasional use of his ear plugs for nights like these…..

Trailing his fingers across your shoulders, he traces the curves of your collarbones, savoring the moment. It wasn’t until he suddenly heard you speak that he realized you weren’t asleep at all, “Can’t sleep?” you ask, opening your eyes.

“Y/N, go to sleep, it’s late,” he mumbles in the darkness.

Ignoring him, you move to make yourself more comfortable, “Something’s bothering you,” you simply state, and that he can’t deny.

“Y/N... “ he’s about to begin, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Seokjin,” you say his full name, something you’d rarely done since you met him, “you know you can tell me,” you reassure, squeezing his hand, “it’s my job to listen,” you add for extra comfort.

And for a moment he looks as if he’s contemplating something, not really accustomed to being the one talking. 

Especially because if you were to ask anyone who’s ever known Jin, then they’d tell you they’d almost never seen the man in a bad nor sad mood. 

Because for the sake of others, Jin had always been the one to remain cheerful when things were bad, the one to crack jokes even whenever he felt down, the one who liked imitating Mariah Carey’s whistle notes in the car while driving, the person everyone could always rely on whether it be for laughs, advice, or just anything. 

It was just who Jin was as a person.

He sighs once he’s made his decision to tell you, “You know how we were talking about declaring majors and stuff tonight?” 

Silently, you nod your head, and he sighs again, “Well I was thinking about something the other day…” he pauses, shifting his body to the side, leaning his head against his hand and now completely facing you, “Remember that first conversation we had in my mom’s car the day you moved into town, when I was taking you to diner?” He asks the rhetorical question, continuing with his thoughts, “How I said that people usually have expectations already set on them and with the pressure of being successful, no one ever truly takes the risk of pursuing what they’re passionate about?”

You nod again, wondering where this was going.

“It wasn’t until earlier this month when I revisited that conversation in the midst of everyone talking about declaring majors and their future careers that I realized that really I was just talking about myself,” he sighs, and suddenly everything becomes clearer to you, and a look of understanding becomes apparent on your face.  

He gulps before continuing, “For so long I’ve been so scared to seriously pursue directing and the world of entertainment all because of my fear of disappointing my dad because Yoongi’s right … business does run in my family and I don’t know if it’s cause I’m the oldest but there’s always been an expectation set on me. An expectation to be the best. An expectation to be successful.”

Slowly, you begin to run your hands through his hair, allowing him to talk as much as he wanted because you knew this was one of the very rare moments that he was going voice everything he had been thinking for so long.

“And so when I hear people like you or Taehyung or even just classmates talk so passionately about what they wanna do in the future I can’t help but wish I had that same courage to to pursue what I want. I mean hell, look at Yoongi pursuing a career in music and producing. I like business, I do, but it’s just not for me, and now just like how you and the rest of the boys are pursuing your dreams, I wanna pursue mine, no matter what it takes. For the first time in my life I want to be 100% selfish, I want to choose me.”

He remains silent after finishing his little speech, a signal that he now wanted your input. He needed to hear something, anything, for he was tired of bearing the weight of his worries by himself.

Gathering your thoughts, you give him a kiss to the lips before continuing, your heart swelling for the man in front of you, “Jin if you want to pursue your dreams then do it,” you grab his hand and kiss his knuckle, “Because I’m just as sure you’ll be successful in the future, plus it’s better to live a life without regrets than with…” you pause, “But I also don’t think it’d be right if I wasn’t rational with you. You’re gonna have to tell your parents, and it’s also important to know that like any other career there is a risk of not making it because at the end of the day that’s how life works and sometimes things are just out of our control… but the real question is if you’re willing to accept it if it happens…”

Jin breaks away his eye contact with you, your words sadly ringing true, “Hey,” you turn his head with your hand in order to have him face you again, now resting your hand on his cheek, “Everything will be okay,” you reassure, “I’ll be with you every step of the way,” you kiss his other cheek. 

To that, he smiles.

“Tomorrow,” he randomly says, only causing you to be confused until he continues, “Tomorrow I’m going home and telling my parents what I wanna do. And you’re coming with me… for moral support that is,” he shoots you a grin, and for a moment your eyes are wide in surprise because well… you certainly weren’t expecting him to do it so soon, “Please?” he pouts, making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Like you have to ask,” you say, tightly wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck, a good night’s sleep following soon after.

“If only we had known things weren’t going to go down as smoothly as we thought it was…”

“Dad you don’t get it…” Jin pushes his hair back with his hand, a sign that he was stressed.

His dad scoffs, “What’s there not to get? You’re choosing something that’s a complete risk over something that has a future, a guaranteed solid one at that. Let’s be feasible here Seokjin...”

Silently you watch the exchange between father and son. Yeah, the two of you knew that there’d be some backlash to Jin’s decision from his parents (if not only his father) but to be here for over 3 hours now, watching the two go back and forth wasn’t what anyone had expected. Neither side relenting on why the other was wrong. But time was ticking, and soon one would pop, you just hadn’t expected it to be Jin first.

“I just can’t dad!” he shouts, interrupting his dad, his voice echoing across the walls. Momentary silence followed, enough to hear a pin drop fall, “I-I just can’t,” Jin’s voice breaks, his eyes desperately pleading for his dad to just once in his life understand.

A scornful laugh comes out of his dad’s mouth before he exhales a big deep breath, “Okay,” he monotonously states, and for a moment a flicker of hope appears in both Jin’s and your eyes, but as fast as it came, it left even quicker, “You can pursue your little venture into the world or entertainment and directing, but just know I never agreed to paying for a degree in Film, I agreed to one in Business. And so if you really want it that bad, it’s coming out of your pocket,”he declares, shocking everyone in the room. 

“Sungjin,” Jin’s mother, who had only watched the exchange like you the whole time, finally speaks up, in just as much as shock as you and Jin. Paying for college out of his pocket? That was almost impossible.

Jin’s father raises his hand, as if to let him continue, “Be grateful I’m still agreeing to pay for that apartment of yours, I’m not cruel enough to let my own son jump from place to place.”

Jin shakes his head, “No,” he says, and you look at him confused, “I’ll pay for my own apartment as well as everything else you help pay for,” with a hardened scowl now on his face he continues, “and I’ll prove you wrong,” he declares. 

His father could only look at him with skepticism until his own expression followed his son’s. The two really were two sides of the same coin.

“Come on y/n let’s go,” he scoffs, getting up from his chair and going to kiss his mom on the cheek, you politely (but also awkwardly) dismiss yourself, following him outside and into his car.

“Why the hell did you do that?” you finally ask, one of the many questions you had running in your head, “and how the hell do you plan on paying for everything out of your own pocket?”

“Because y/n,” he runs his hand through his hair, turning on the car in order to let the ignition warm up, “I want to prove him wrong,” he repeats his reasoning from earlier, shrugging his shoulders in the process, “I’ll just pick up extra hours at work, holiday season is starting soon and my manager being the lazy man he is would rather overwork an employee aka me than hire someone new.”

You pout, “Does that mean no more movie nights?” you whine, making him laugh.

“We’ll still have them princess,” he gives you a peck on the cheek, “Just not as frequent that’s all,” he then follows the kiss with a squeeze on the cheek, “meaning we have to savor them more,” he concludes, the two of you well on your way home, a happy couple once in love.

“This …. This is where our story slowly begins to take a bit of shift. It’s where the bright flowers we once held onto so tightly begin to slowly wilt when faced with the real world, where destiny and fate cross roads, creating and molding choices both within and out of our control…”

“Place your tassels to the left...” the students in the arena follow the command. “and congratulations to the new class of 1996!” the chancellor of SNU announces, and soon the sight of graduation caps being thrown left and right follows. 

You feel your throat go sore from the amount of cheering you’re doing on the stands, watching as Jin and your group of friends hug in celebration, following with excited waves directed towards you and Jin’s mother along with his siblings.

Jin’s father, who claimed he was too busy with work, wasn’t able to make it, not that it was much of a surprise to anyone. Ever since Jin declared his financial independence from his dad, their relationship wasn’t exactly a favorable one, not that there was ever much to work with. 

But in the end Jin understood his father and he understood why he couldn’t be supportive because like any other parent all Jin’s father wanted was to ensure Jin lived a successful life where he wouldn’t have to worry about finances and whether there’d be food on the table albeit it be for only himself or his future family.

The class song, “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey begins to play, and you feel your stomach cramp at laughing so hard because of Jin’s sudden dancing, the boys soon following his movements. You really had to take him to a Mariah Carey concert soon.

“Let’s go meet them in the parking lot,” Jin’s mother shouts over the chaos of people leaving the bleacher stands.

You nod, following her lead, all while helping Minjun and Yeonha (who were now 10) not get lost in the crowd. Once you make it to the parking lot, you find Jin, who had made it there before you all, and immediately you run to hug him, his siblings following suit.

His mom who's holding his famous old camcorder, records the moment, but once Jin spots it, he’s quick to cover his face by nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “How is it that the person always recording things, hates being recorded?” you chuckle, trying to push him off so that he’d have no choice but to be recorded.

“Mm don’t forget being pictured,” he mumbles, maneuvering you in a way that he could reach the camera in his mom’s hands, tackle her into a big hug and successfully get her to turn off the camera.

“Congratulations my Seokjin,” his mom kisses his cheek, ruffling his hair like she did when he was a kid. 

Jin, who ditched the mullet about two years ago, now sported a more clean cut look, resembling a comma in the front while still a little lengthy from the sides. In a way it made him look a bit more youthful, not that he had to worry, for that man truly did not age. You were sure that even now at 21 years of age, Jin was going to look like this for the rest of his life because 4 years ago at age of 17 he looked exactly the same. You could only hope your own genes did the same.

“Thanks mom,” he smiled.

“Now for a picture,” she said while pulling out a Kodak disposable camera from her purse, but before she could even attempt at taking a picture, Jin was already getting into his car.

“Ahh later mom, let’s just go eat for now,” he announces, “The graduation boy is really hungry,” he gives her the puppy dog eyes before entering the car.

She rolls her eyes, “Fine. We’ll meet you two over there,” she says, “Come on you two,” she motions to the two twins to follow her back to her car.

“I still can’t believe you wanna drive all the way out to that old diner in Gwacheon as a way of celebrating your graduation,” you say as Jin reverses out of his parking spot, one hand on the steering wheel while the rest of his body was turned to make sure that no cars were passing.

Once he was safely out of the parking lot, he then replies, “Because y/n, there’s nothing better than a nice BLT sandwich on a Saturday night, don’t you think?”

“They’re not even all that—” you’re about to lecture him until he interrupts.

“Ah Ah ah, I’m the graduation boy,” he pouts while driving, “We went all the way to Itaewon to try that Italian food you wanted so bad when it was your graduation day, and you didn’t hear me complain.”

You narrow your eyes at him, damn him …

“Mm,” you mumble.

“Oh I love this song!” Jin, with his right hand, turns up the volume to the radio, “Californiaaaa loveeee,” he repeats after the robot, the music now blasting in the background as he gets on the highway, now on your way back home.

“Passing” you the imaginary mic in his hand, he expects you to sing with him and for a moment you stare at him with a deadpan look until of course you smile at his foolishness, “California knows how to party,” you sing, passing him the “mic”.

“In the cityyyyy of LA,” he continues along, and it goes like this the whole car ride. The two of you going back and forth singing songs from famous artists such as the Backstreet Boys, Boyz II Men, Radiohead, Nirvana, and of course Jin’s favorite, Miss Mariah Carey.

And just like that the day goes by in the blink of an eye, from eating at the diner with his mom and siblings, to visiting your parents until finally the two of you found yourselves sitting on your porch just like the good old days. 

Resting your head against his shoulder, both of you stare at the sky above in silence, the stars out and shining bright tonight.

“We really graduated,” you say in disbelief, breaking the silence. Jin turns his attention to you, a small smile on his face.

“Crazy huh?” he interlocks his hand with yours, kissing the knuckles of it, “Time went by in the blink of an eye, and now we’re officially in the real world. Nothing but a tiny speck in such a large universe, almost like the stars,” he chuckles looking back up to the sky, and you gaze at him with a soft look in your eyes. If only he knew how much brighter he shined compared to them. 

“Jin…” you randomly say, “I love you,” and though he’s heard it come out of your mouth many many times before tonight, each and every time he did hear it, his heart swelled the same as the first.

Unlocking his hand from yours, he instead wraps his arm across your shoulder, gently bringing you closer to him, enough that you could even hear the sound of his heart beating. Something that not even a video camera could capture. This was a memory you two would just have to remember on your own when you are both old and grey.

“I love you too princess,” he whispers, “I love you too,” he repeats to himself, “You know, I’ve been thinking these days about our future...” you look up at him from your position, childlike curiosity now shown across your face, “I feel like since we’ve always lived moment to moment since we’ve met, I’ve never really asked you…” he pauses debating whether to ask, “what kind of future do you want?”

Softly chucking, you shrug, “You really wanna hear it?” you ask, and he furrows his brows, almost offended you’d even ask, but rather than scold you he simply nods, “Hmm..” you think for a moment, “I picture us both having successful careers and living in the big city while we’re at our peak, getting married on a whim and occasionally traveling the world in search of an adventure,” you pause, “but when the time comes to finally relax, then I’d want to move back here, to where it’s calm and quiet, buy ourselves a house and maybe we’d even have a kid, just one though,” you emphasize.

He arches his brow, “Just one?” he asks.

You nod your head, “After babysitting your siblings, yes, just one,” you repeat with laughter and he himself can’t help but laugh, “I think a girl preferably, but I wouldn’t be mad at a boy, They would probably take after you in looks,” you add, nudging his shoulder. 

He blushes for a moment, before faking smugness and winking at you.  

You laugh at his confidence before continuing, “And we’d show them the different places this town has just like how you showed me, enough that they’d want to stay here when they’re older,” Jin notices how your eyes glisten as you talk of a time that felt so far away, “And we’d be a small little happy family, supporting whatever it is that their dream will be. And then we’d grow old and grey, maybe have a couple of grandkids running around, and we’d simply be proud of the life we’ve built together—”

And before you could continue on any further, the feeling of his soft lips placed against yours interrupts you, nothing but passion exchanged in the kiss. It isn’t until you’re both out of breath that you break away, Jin immediately framing his hands over your cheeks, “Promise me?” he asks, and you wrinkle in confusion, “Promise me you’ll live a life you’re proud of?”

“As long as you do the same,” you softly answer in return, and silently he nods, “then let’s do it.”

“If only I knew … If only he had been honest with me that night then maybe things could’ve been talked about right then and there before it got out of control…”

Jin crumples the rejection letter and throws it in the trash, frustrated by yet another rejection letter from a directing internship. Tonight he was visiting his parents for dinner while you were out of town on a trip to Busan with some college friends you’d met your freshman year. Taking the opportunity of being by himself in your guys’ apartment, he shredded the number of rejection letters he’d received from several programs in the past couple of months. Too ashamed to show you them.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t but feel frustrated. It’d been a year since the two of you had graduated college, and while your career in engineering physics was going great, he couldn’t say the same about his career in directing. Of course when you’d ask how everything was going, he’d feign a smile and say he was still waiting to hear back, guilty that he was incapable of telling you the truth.  

Fixing the yellow unbuttoned dress shirt he was wearing over his plain white t-shirt and striped vest, he combs a hand through his hair one last time before leaving, feeling as if his head was about to explode.

“I made Naengmyun, your favorite,” Jin’s mother sets the bowl of noodles down along with several other sides, making sure her oldest son was eating good tonight. She was also trying to mitigate the awkwardness that was in the air tonight, this being one of the very rare occasions Jin and his father spent time together. Over the last year, things still were still stiff between the two, Jin’s father still clearly not accepting of his career choice.

Jin, who didn’t have much of an appetite, stirred with his noodles, hoping his mother wouldn’t notice.

“So Seokjin…” his mothers begins once she seats herself, “how’s everything been going so far?” she asks, genuinely wanting to know what her son has been up to these days.

Jin, trying not to look too uninterested, gives a simple response, “Um it’s been going good,” he casually says.

She nods, “What about y/n?” she asks, always interested in hearing about you.

At this question, Jin seems to perk up more, this change in behavior not going unnoticed by someone else at the table, “Great,” he says, “she’s currently working at a paid internship for some technical writing company that specializes in space and astronomy,” he continues on, “she really seems to love it.” 

A smile appears on his mother’s face, happy to know that you were doing great. 

“But what about you?” the voice across the table suddenly asks, and Jin is met with the glare of his father, “you seem to have so much to say about y/n, but so little about yourself,” his dad comments, and Jin could physically feel his stomach drop, his words reminding him of what he just shredded at home not too long ago.

“What do you want me to say?” Jin asks, hiding his nervousness through a monotone voice.

His dad scoffs, “That you’re doing something with your life,” he says a little too harshly, “that you’re not living in the shadow of your girlfriend.”

“Sungj—”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jin sneers in the same amount of attitude his dad had.

“Seokjin!” his mother shouts, “That’s your father you're speaking to,” she reminds him, believing that the practice of respect should still be something upheld no matter what, “Kids, go to your room,” she tells the twins, and without question they do.

Jin quickly calms himself down, just wanting to leave before this escalated any more, “It means that I told you that business was the way to go, but no you were so adamant on proving me wrong and pursuing your dreams that now you can’t even guarantee yourself an independent future!” his dad spat in return, his voice now raising with every sentence . The bottled feelings from years ago now spilling out... rapidly at that.

“Why is it that with you it’s always business, business, business?” Jin throws his hands in the air, “I mean really that’s all I’ve ever heard from you growing up! Jin you need to be like this, Jin you need to make sure you do this, Jin I need this from you,” he mocks his dad, “I mean really is that all you care about dad? Meeting your expectations? Following your footsteps?”

“I do it because you’re my son Seokjin! My son, who I thought I raised to think critically, to strive for success—”

“You think I’m not trying?” Seokjin shouts, his voice turning hoarse at the end, “You think I wanted to fail? To have to come to the realization that—” he stutters, “that shit’s not going how I planned it?” Jin’s mother feels her eyes brim with tears, “That while my long time girlfriend is on her way to becoming a star in her field that I’m stuck waiting tables with a useless degree in my pocket! Is that what you want me to say, dad? Is that it?”

He remains silent.

“You think I don’t know that I’ve made a mistake? That I don’t wake up with the dread of knowing that I’m not at all good for her? That while she could be with someone who makes just as much money as she does and actually provides for her, she decides to stick with me? The person who can hardly offer her anything?” rather than feeling a weight come off his shoulders, Jin feels an extra burden get added on, almost feeling suffocated.

“Well then I’m sorry dad! I’m sorry I couldn’t be the magnificent first born son you wanted!” by now tears are spilling out of Jin’s eyes in such a rapid pace that his vision blurs.

All his father can do is stare at him, unsure of what to say or do.

Growing up Jin’s father wasn’t much of an affectionate parent, that role being filled more by his mother than his dad. If anything his father usually kept more of a reserved and stoic personality, his love language shown by the long nights of work he puts in for his family at the office and the constant pushing for success. And so here in this moment, to have his oldest son who he’d push to his complete limit cry his heart out in front of him, probably in desperate need of a hug, Sungjin just couldn’t bring himself to comfort him.

And so instead he simply said, “Goodnight Seokjin,” in the softest voice possible, before making his way upstairs to his bedroom, leaving the words he so desperately wanted to say unsaid.

Jin feels the arms of his mother hug him, her eyes as teary stained as his, “Ah Seokjin,” her voice breaks as she attempts to comfort him.

“I—” Jin hesitates, “I need to go back home mom,” and gently he breaks away from the hug.

“Seokjin…” his mother worries, “Just stay here for the night, I’ll grab your old sheets from the closet and—”

“Mom,” he simply says, a way of finalizing his decision

Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to convince him, she squeezes his shoulder in an effort to comfort him, “Drive safe,” she says.

He nods, just wanting to go home and sleep the night away.

Unlocking the door to your guys’ apartment, Jin was surprised to see you in the kitchen making ramen, your packed bags laid across the couch. 

Having heard the door open, you turn to face him, “Hey—” and almost immediately your expression goes from one of happiness to one of concern. Quickly you rush towards him, his puffy eyes telling you that he’d been crying, “Hey, what’s wrong?” you raise your hand to cup his cheek.

Jin simply stares at you with a saddened look, unsure of what to say. “Hey, I’ve realized tonight after an argument with my father that I’m a complete utter failure, and you have no chance at a happy future by being with me.” Is that what he should say? It was the truth, wasn’t it?

“It’s—” he pauses, “It’s nothing,” he lowers your hand from his face, taking off his shoes and setting his keys down.

“Seokjin—”

“Y/N, it’s nothing,” he repeats, his way of telling you that he was serious, “I’m going to bed,” he exhales a deep sigh, making his way towards the bedroom, leaving you standing in the living room by yourself, wondering what in the hell just happened?

The next morning, as per usual Jin awoke to an empty bed, your Monday’s usually having you go in very early in the morning. 

Jin groaned as he got up, remembering that today was his day off. God, did he just wanna stay in bed all day, but remembering that the two of you were running low on groceries, he thought might as well make himself useful and do the buying for the week.

Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed the strands of his hair he once kept short now getting longer, resembling the mullet he used to have when he was a teen. Not that he hated it or anything, but it was an odd sight to see, and so he grabbed his hair cutting scissors from the cabinet and began to unevenly chop the long strands of hair ultimately resulting in a chopped banged look. To make it look more natural, he ruffled his hair at the end, not bothering to style it.

After that he changed into casual clothing and made his way to the grocery store, relying on nothing but his pure memory for the things he needed to buy. 

Humming while pushing the cart full of groceries back to his car, he stops when something catches his eye. 

Across the street was the headquarters of one of the internships he had applied for. And maybe it was due to the argument he had with his dad the day before, or the fact that he’d been feeling like a complete utter failure recently, but getting into his car, Jin couldn’t bring himself to drive away and go back home. Instead he got out of the car and began to walk across the street, unsure of what it was he was planning to do.

Ding. Ding.

Jin rings the service bell, that impulsive courageous feeling he felt earlier suddenly abandoning him.

A man, who looked like he was near Jin’s age, walks out of the back office, a tag that read the name “Jungkook” pinned on the left side of his chest, “Hello, how can I help you?” he greets, a small smile on his face.

“Oh um—” Jin becomes flustered, but deciding that there was no backing down he continued on, “I sent in an application here a couple of months ago and I haven’t heard back from anyone, so I was just wondering—”

Jungkook’s face becomes one of nervousness, “Oh I’m sorry sir—” he tries to interrupt but Jin relents.

“If there’d been some kind of delay in the process, and well if there has been, if I could talk to someone because I really need—”

“Sir,” Jungkook repeats, this time halting Jin from continuing, “that position you’re talking about was filled months ago,” he practically whispers with a look of both awkwardness and pity on his face, “maybe your letter got lost in the mail, but there’s not really much you can do by coming in here.”

Jin, clearly in denial, nods his head no, “Please,” he pleads, “I just need to talk to someone for like ten minutes at most, I swear.”

“Sir—”

“Can’t you write down my number or something? Pass it on at least?!”

Jungkook can only stare at the frantic man, unsure of what to say or do, “I-” he stutters, “I can’t,” he ultimately says, not wanting to give this man false hope nor waste his time by writing his name and number down, “I’m gonna have to call security if you don’t leave,” he says, voice wobbling. 

It’s only then that Jin realizes how crazy he must’ve looked. Not only was he in casual clothing, but his hair was all messy and he was sure his eyes must’ve been dilated in cause of his desperation.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” he whispers under his breath, hastily making his way out. 

What was he thinking? Barging in and demanding things like that…. God he was losing it. Though he knew better than to let his dad’s words get to him, for some reason they were just eating at him.

“... it’s also important to know that like any other career there is a risk of not making it because at the end of the day that’s how life works and sometimes things are just out of our control… but the real question is if you’re willing to accept it if it happens…”

Your words from years ago ring in his head, and he shakes his head in denial. No he wasn’t … he wasn’t willing to accept it and he knew he’d only continue looking like a fool if he didn’t. But he just couldn’t. Because fully accepting it would mean he’d let you down. That the person you said you were sure was going to make it, was nothing but a failure.

And so he walks back to his car, dreadfully going back home, forgetting the words you spoke after. 

That everything would be okay, and that you’d be with him every step of the way.

“Since the day Jin and I had met, we had never seriously fought over anything, yeah, we’d occasionally get into a petty quarrel, but never enough to really get us truly mad. Things like which character in a movie was morally correct, or who ate the leftovers from the night before were as heated as our arguments ever got, and even then we’d always forgive each other after a couple of hours of cooling off, but this time… this time it was different. This time it was serious.”

Opening the door, Jin sighed as set down the bagged groceries on the floor, mentally and physically exhausted from everything, personally declaring to himself that this week was just a really bad week for him. 

Taking off his shoes, he began to make his way into the kitchen, deciding that maybe a cold cup of water would relax him. 

But when he was met with you, sitting on the kitchen isle’s chair with several shredded pieces of paper on the surface of the isle in front of you, along with an unshredded one in your hand, he was sure he wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.

The look on your face said everything, it was a mixture of betrayal, anger, and sadness all in one. The two of you stared at each other for the longest, words not having to be exchanged in order to understand what was going on, until finally you break the silence and it’s what you ask that Jin swore he felt his soul go cold, “W-Why?” is all you say, your voice weak and fragile.

He gulps down the lump in his throat, the words barely managing to come out of his mouth, “Because y/n I just—” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “I just couldn’t tell you,” he ultimately says, pushing his hair back with his hand.

“But why?” you repeat the same question from before, your voice now growing louder as you get up from the seat, “I just don’t understand,” you add because no, you weren’t angry, you weren’t sad … you were hurt. You were concerned. You were worried. For you had just found out that the man you loved more than anything went to this extent to hide something from you. To hide something so … trivial.

Tears well up in your eyes when you notice the glossiness in his own eyes, “You—” his voice cracks, “You wouldn’t get it,” he states, and this causes you to get defensive.

“I’m sure I would, if you’d just talk to me,” you barked back, coming closer to him, “Whatever it was, it should’ve never resorted to this!” you flail the paper in your hands around. 

You don’t mean to yell, but you do. It was frustration that was coming out of your mouth, he had to understand that … right? 

Sighing you continue, “Today at work I just couldn’t focus, not when I knew there was something seriously bothering you,” you explain how you’d come to find the paper along with the rest of it’s shredded companions, “So I asked if I could leave early, thinking that since you had the day off I could maybe possibly get whatever it was out of you. Of course seeing that you weren’t here, I did some snooping of my own and well…” you shake your head.

“You’ve been lying to me for months Seokjin…. each time I’d ask you if you’d heard anything you’d say no, knowing you had … and for what? Because you didn’t wanna show me that you got rejected?” you sigh in dismay because despite him not answering you, you knew exactly why he didn’t tell you anything, “I would’ve helped you, you know? We could’ve worked on your resume or make a better project to show, I could’ve helped,” you grab his hand, a way of wanting to show that even now you were still beside him, “Say something Jin,” your voice breaks.  

“You don’t—” he looks down at you, “You don’t get it y/n,” he monotonously repeats, removing your hand from his and walking towards the bedroom, a tired expression on his face. 

He could feel it… he could feel himself cracking. With every minute that continued to pass in this wretched day, the selfless Jin everyone knew and loved was reaching his breaking point and the last person he wanted to take it out on was you. But you just kept pushing.

“Seokjin!” you force him to turn around by pulling at his hand, “Just talk to me!” you demand.

“And say what!” he finally screams, “What do you want me to say y/n?!” he cries out, tears spewing out of his eyes, “That I completely failed at my dream? That my dad was right, and that film was nothing but a mistake? That I could be working at some fancy company that pays a decent salary rather than relying on tips from a hard day’s work? That when I look at myself in the mirror, I see nothing but a failure!”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” you demand.

“It’s true isn’t it?” he questions, “Can’t you see that I’m not the person you think I am, that you’ve wasted your time being with some—”

“Just shut up already,” you grit your teeth, “... can’t you see I don’t care? I don’t care if you’re the richest or poorest man on Earth, I don’t care if your dad thinks that your career path is wrong, I don’t care if you or other people think you don’t deserve what you have, I just don’t care! What I do care about is your happiness and that shouldn’t rely on meeting other people’s expectations, including my own Seokjin. Because trust me, as long as I’m with you, I’m the happiest girl in the world. I promise you, if there’s one thing that’s true in this world, it’s that,” you lay your heart bare.

By now the both of you are crying, tears silently rolling down from the corners of each other's eyes. 

It hurt to see Jin think so lowly of himself, especially when you knew just how much of an amazing person he was.

“Y/N…” he whispers your name as softly as he can, “I’m just really tired, and I just really wanna go to sleep,” his voice breaks.

“Seokjin—”

“Please?” he frowns, his eyes yearning to be closed.

“I’ll—” you pause for a moment, “I’ll see you in bed then,” you ultimately say, sadness looming in the air for the words unsaid.

Silently nodding, Jin makes his way to the bedroom, gently shutting the door behind him and exhaling a deep breath of air, silent muffled sobs finally escaping. A decision already set in his mind.

“A part of me used to think that I should’ve immediately went to bed that night, that then I would’ve caught him crying and maybe we could’ve thoroughly talked everything out that night, but then I think about all of the events that later happened after that night, and that’s when I understand that maybe we were doomed from the beginning…”

It had been a couple of weeks since the argument with Jin and though your interactions were still a little stiff with one another, you were still hopeful that things would get better. They had to.

Sighing, you unlock the door to your apartment, ready to take a nap after a long day of work. Kicking off your shoes, you say something outloud, assuming that Jin was in the kitchen like he usually was whenever you’d come back from work, “Jin take out the kimchi from the fridge for me please,” your voice weirdly echoes across the room, changing your course of direction from the bathroom to the kitchen.

“Jin?” you ask to an empty kitchen, “Hm,” you hum to yourself, maybe he was in the bedroom …

Walking inside, you see that he isn’t there, but what you do notice is the sudden emptiness of the room. The clothes he’d have thrown around no longer scattered around the room, and his little Mario figurines were no longer on the wooden shelf you two had built from scratch …. What in the hell was going on?

“Seokjin?” you shout again, hoping this was some kind of stupid prank on his part. 

In a panicked manner, you look inside every possible room in the apartment, from the closets to the restroom, Jin being nowhere to be found. It isn’t until you do a second search of the kitchen that you notice that there was a note on the floor (most likely accidentally falling to the floor earlier).

Eyebrows furrowing when you read the note, you immediately grab your keys, shock and anger acting as your driving force.

“Right when I left, it began to rain heavy... It’s weird … I remember driving with such a rage that night I was sure I was driving recklessly… but for some reason, as ironic as it was, there was an artist playing on the radio that must’ve kept me at bay, Mariah Carey singing Without You …”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The door opens.

“Ah Y/N,” Mrs. Kim greets you, her apron from either cooking or baking still on, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in such a long time,” she chuckles, hugging you in the process. Despite your current dilemma, you feign a smile, not wanting to be disrespectful even if you were in a horrible mood. “Is Seokjin with you?” she genuinely asks, and this causes your expression to be one of shock.

He wasn’t here? Then where the hell was he?

“O-oh no,” you stutter, partially due to the freezing weather, “I thought he was here...” you say, and his mother’s face immediately becomes one of concern.

“No...” she hesitantly says, clearly confused, “Not that I know of,” she furrows her brows, “Oh honey, you’re soaking, come in, come in,” she insists, “maybe we can try calling his job using the house phone,” she begins to ramble, but you stop yourself before completely entering, a sudden thought crossing your mind.

“A-a-actually it’s fine,” you say, “I think I know where he is.”  

She tilts her head in confusion, “Are you sure? The rain is only getting heavier, and I’m sure neither Seokjin or your parents would want you driving in these conditions,” she says, noting the dull look in your eyes. You appreciated her concern, for you knew she loved you in her own special way, always imagining that you’d one day be her future daughter in law.

It was only expected really, you’d been in Jin’s life for almost 7 years now, both she and your mom always glancing at your ring finger whenever you’d visit, itching to see it decorated by a piece of jewelry. 

If only Ms. Kim knew that that dream was slowly slipping away from your grasp at this current moment …

“Yes I’m sure Mrs. Kim,” you finally respond, “Don’t worry, I’ll drive safe,” you try to say as lightheartedly as possible.

Hesitantly, she nods, allowing you to leave.

“When Mrs. Kim had offered me to come inside, something had hit me out of nowhere and I remembered that it was raining. Pouring in fact. And my mind suddenly went back to the days when we were 17, remembering how he’d knock on my door with a bag of takeout after coming back from the one place you could always find him at on a rainy day… the diner. ”

Water is dripping from all over your body when you enter the diner, from your hair to your clothes, you were drenched in mother nature’s tears. The only thing that wasn’t completely soaking wet was the note in your hand, the one you slammed on the booth’s table he sat at once you spotted him.

He looks up at you with a pained expression on his face, “Everything I do is for you, and this is for the best. Don’t come looking for me, for I’ll be long gone by the next morning’s sunrise. I’m sorry. Yours forever, Jin,” you read the note out loud to him, a mixture of anger and hurt found in your voice.

He remains silent, watching as your fingers trembled in anger, “What?” you rhetorically ask, “Did you think I wasn’t going to come all the way down here to look for you, that I was just gonna accept this bullshit of a letter or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, and call it a day? Is that what you honestly thought?”

After several minutes of continuous silence, your voice rises in anger, “Don’t just look at me, say something!” you yell.

“Y/N,” he says, the volume in which you said it, catching the attention of the late night goers also at the diner, “you’re causing a scene.”

You take a seat across from him, planning on being as loud as you needed to be until you got some answers, “How could I not when my boyfriend of over 7 years decides to pack up his things and leave to God knows where while only leaving some sorry excuse of a note for me.” your voice shakes, “What the hell did you expect?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, genuinely meaning the two simple words, more than you could ever know. Did you think he wanted to leave you? That he wanted to toss away everything you two had built to the trash? That he wanted to hurt the person who meant the most to him in this world? Of course he didn’t. But he had to be the bad guy in this story. Not for him, but for you. Because he loved you so much, that’d he’d do anything to see you live the life you dreamt of.

“No,” you say, “I don’t believe this,” you fling the letter around in his face, “I need you to tell it to my face, then I’ll believe you,” tears begin to well up in your eyes. There was just no way. The Jin you knew would never do this to you, never in a million years.

“Y/N—” he sighs, but he knows you won’t relent until you hear it from him, “Y/N we can’t be together anymore,” he says, and the words echo in your mind as he continues, “After tonight we’ll be nothing more than strangers,” he says in such a monotone voice, if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was a heartless being.

What you didn’t know was that Jin wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. Every nerve in his body was begging him to break out in tears, but no matter how much he wanted to … he just couldn’t bring himself to break outwardly. Not right now at least. Because right now he needed to be unbreakable.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” a single teardrop slowly rolls down your cheek, the agonizing ache you felt in your heart now growing because of his words, “Seokjin,” you whimper, “I-If this is because of what you were saying a couple of weeks ago,” forcibly you grab his hand from across the table, your lips quivering in fear of losing the person you loved the most, “then why can’t you see I don’t care? Because to me you’ll always be the tall, lanky, boy with an outdated mullet who first showed me around town 7 years ago with a camera pointed at my face. Because as long as we’re with each other, we’ll get through anything Seokjin …” you squeeze his hand tighter, “You’re my person Seokjin, mine, and mine only,” you try to smile, only causing more tears to spill out of your eyes as they crease. 

“Y/N…” just accept it, is what he wants to say because what he was about to say would change how you viewed him, it would make you question everything you ever knew about the person you loved, “I don’t know what else I can say or do for you to understand that I just don’t want to be with you anymore,” he feels the a knot forming in his throat, as if to tell him to stop immediately, that what he was saying would have irreversible consequences, “And I haven’t been for a while…” How disgusting he was.

“You’re—” your voice croaks, “You’re a liar—Seokjin please....” you cry.

He pulls his wallet out and sets the money for his meal down, getting up from his seat in the process, “I truly am sorry Y/N…” is all he can say, before giving you a final kiss on the forehead, his feet fighting against his will to turn around and apologize. To tell you that he was just being an idiot and beg for your forgiveness. But he couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

And so pushing the door open, he took one final glance at you, knowing he’d left his heart with you.