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olivinesea · 2 years

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Best Forgotten

a/n: damn damn damn. here we have a little blurb turned full fic and literally not a drop of remorse from the author. aka me. once again we have young Hotch sad and angry and full of teenage indignity. Nothing goes right for the guy. I might have messed with a timeline or two but no more than the writers did. warning for bad thoughts and abuse. Thank you for the excellent prompt @unionjackpillow! ~5.2k

We all love the library, yes?

At first glance it would be easy to miss the lanky teen waiting outside the old building, he faded easily into the landscape with his dark clothes and his years of practice. Standing in the shade of a tree, he dug a hole with the toe of his sneaker, trying to look like he had a reason to be there. Loitering was the term he’d learned. An odd word, he thought, with a few letters that didn’t seem like they belonged. He’d first heard it hurled at him by an exasperated gas station clerk, pointing to the red and white plastic sign they’d put out as a pointed dis-invitation; a charm meant to ward off listless groups of teenagers and stumbling transients from their doorway. He stared at him, then at the sign, trying to match up the sounds with the spelling. His continued presence had been unappreciated and he’d had to duck out of the way of a mostly empty can aimed at his head. The man didn’t have have a chance of hitting him, not with that wobbling throw. Aaron had learned to dodge the most precise of missiles, he wasn’t about to be caught by some half-assed effort. But from that encounter forward he was made to notice more and more of those signs, warning him away from storefronts and parking lots. There were very few places, he’d found, to be aimless in public. He much preferred to wander the woods anyway, a domain all to himself, but the weather was too unpredictable today. He needed somewhere a little more sheltered to bide his time if he didn’t want to end up drenched. He smiled sourly, thinking of the reaction he’d get showing up at his brother’s school looking like a drowned rat.

He could be at school himself, really ought to be, but he hadn’t been sleeping much at night and class was guaranteed to be so boring he would surely fall asleep and wake to find himself serving detention. None of his teachers would care that he had somewhere he needed to be, that people were relying on him to be where he was told at a specific time. That there would be trouble if he wasn’t. They’d only scold him with the same tired admonishments to pay attention, to be respectful, to not talk back. As if his whole life didn’t revolve around those skills. They just couldn’t imagine there was a force stronger than them, demanding every shred of his self control. He only had so much civility he could manage and if it was a choice between making them happy and placating his father, he was always going to prioritize the latter.

If there was one thing he couldn’t fuck up today, it was picking up Sean on time. There wasn’t much he could control, the chaotic decline of his father’s health made it harder and harder to protect his little brother the way he hoped to. He felt the sting of each hit doubly as he thought about Sean frightened in another room, listening to the brutal way Aaron was made to account for each and every mistake, real or imagined. He tried so hard to keep Sean out of harm’s reach, away from the black hole center of their home, but he knew the kid was seeing things, understanding circumstances in a way that he hadn’t before now. It was easier to hide things from a toddler, but now that Sean was in school, now that he was meeting other kids with different lives he was more aware of the inconsistencies in his own. Aaron couldn’t change their world entirely, but he could provide this one bit of stability, prevent him from feeling that irrational anxiety that today, finally today, no one was coming for him. The world he’d sensed burning around him finally settled into ashes with him left alone in the middle of it. He could delay that feeling for Sean a little longer he hoped. He didn’t bother to delude himself that getting this right would spare him any of his own discomfort. There were always other faults to be found.

He wouldn’t risk school and grouchy teachers, instead he’d spend his time in the library. Easy enough to go unnoticed there. He had a spot well out of sight that would give him somewhere to be for the next few hours. The only trick was getting in unseen. He didn’t want to walk in alone. Didn’t want to be the only outlet for the attention of the librarian, eagerly waiting at the circulation desk for someone to pass by. One of the rare adults who had consistently shown him kindness, he still didn’t have it in him to field that interaction. The older woman would ask him questions, about school, about home, always casual, breezy, as if she were hardly interested. But he could tell from the way she peered at him through her thick, wire rimmed glasses that she could read more into his barely muttered answers than he would like to share. He didn’t have the energy to lie sufficiently today, he just wanted to curl into his corner and disappear. So he waited for someone to walk by, to use as a human shield in his passage through the front door.

He got his chance before long when a woman with a stroller and a toddler push their way up the small incline to the front door of the library. He ducked behind them, not too close, not too hurried, he was only being helpful, holding the door open for a mother with her hands full. She thanked him distractedly and he smiled, a real smile when the little kid looked up at him, eyes filled with excited anticipation of a day at the library. Aaron wouldn’t let himself think about the jealousy that slipped into his thoughts, a bitterness at such uncomplicated joy. He knew it was ugly and unfair of him but he just couldn’t help it. The same way he couldn’t help his anger, brought out by the way every adult seemed to think he was untrustworthy, that he didn’t care. They were so wrong it was hard to control the rage that engulfed him when faced with yet another judgmental dismissal of his character. He could never explain himself to them, not without tearing his chest open, pulling out his heart and showing them every overlooked scar, every wound relentlessly inflicted. He’d see how much of it they could withstand, how righteous they thought themselves after learning the cost of a lifetime spent hiding another man’s sins, of paying for something he’d never had a chance to decline.

With his hood pulled up, he sped across the open area, through the shelves of fiction, the popular titles that were laid out hoping to entice more casual patrons. He headed for the back corner where he knew there was a rarely used staircase that would take him to the cramped second floor,—a place ignored by most, filled with unglamorous non-fiction titles and reference books outdated by at least a decade. He slipped down the second to last aisle toward the small wooden table he’d staked out years ago. He ran his finger idly along the spines of the books, pulling out a thick hardback on mythology. He liked to at least have the pretense of studying on the off chance someone came around. He probably wouldn’t read it but he did find the savageness of the ancient religions alluring. Like the people of those lost ages, he too needed gods who could match the cruelty of his existence. He thought a pantheon of jealous, petty gods tearing each other apart as quickly as they sprang to existence made far more sense than whatever benevolent old man was currently ignoring him and every single plea he’d ever made.

He wedged himself into the chair, carefully adjusting so he could lean his back against the wall. As soon as his shoulder blades touched the wall he relaxed, just slightly. There wasn’t much that made him feel safe but the security of a wall at his back was always welcome. He kept his backpack on his lap. It barely had anything inside; a notebook, broken pencils, some crumpled up papers. It helped him blend in with everyday people though so he held onto it like a security blanket, proving he had the same authority to move around the world as any other kid his age. He shifted, finding it hard to fully settle in the space with the air pressing warm and still against him. A shadow shifted above him and he blinked at the sudden brightness. Cut into the ceiling directly over his table was a skylight. It was the other reason this had become his favorite spot. The window wasn’t large and it hadn’t been cleaned in a number of years so the dirt and leaves filtered the sunlight opaquely through it. But it was enough for him to feel connected to the outside, to reassure him he wasn’t trapped in some low-ceilinged cave. The light helped him breathe a little easier. Tilting his head back, he could see raindrops begin to splash against the glass, running together and dragging muddy trails behind them.

He turned his attention to the book, flipping it open randomly, looking at the pictures more than the words. There were old photographs of statues and frescoes, tiny bolded captions describing when and where these representations originated. He traced his finger along the edges of tiles making up a mosaic that was hundreds, thousands of years old. This photograph itself was probably half a century gone, the colors faded into a sepia wash, barely able to discern between the blues and reds. It felt strange to him that even back then, people envisioned gods as no different than themselves. Perhaps with greater powers but all the same limbs and torsos and heads of any human. On Sundays he’d heard God created people in His image but he felt like it was more than likely the other way around. People wanted to see themselves in the powerful, he could understand that much. Aid and forgiveness seemed more likely to come from a being they could identify with. Unfortunately he’d never felt that connection, could never see himself in any representations of divinity. He might have all the same parts as anyone else, but there was something off about him, something that kept him separated from the comfort others had no problem finding.

He flipped ahead and landed on a page depicting a sinister looking creature, all horns and glowing eyes, teeth sharpened to points. He stared into those eyes and wondered if this thing might be inside of him, if he would be better represented by the drops of blood splattered across the page. He dug his nail into the skin of his fingertips, fighting back the rage that surged through him. It had gotten harder, these waves of emotion, overtaking him suddenly, threatening to carry him out past the breakers to be lost in an ocean of senseless, endless fury. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the urge to tear this book to shreds, to begin screaming, just to find out what would happen. To see if there was something more to be broken in his utterly fractured life. But before that could happen, the feeling faded leaving a familiar nausea in its place.

Some days he couldn’t differentiate between all the feelings; the anger and the fear and the disgust. He’d been told he was less than—wrong, sinful, useless—so many times he believed it wholeheartedly. He resented the world for making him this way while at the same time refusing to give him any sort of out. He was the creature on the page in front of him, created by the minds of weak and angry people in order to have someone to blame for their problems. He existed for nothing more than to hurt and be hurt. He tried to swallow back the feeling, the tears that pricked his eyes when he let himself think about how he was trapped in this, had never had a chance to be anything different, but the lump of emotion in his throat was made worse by the bruising left there by his father’s viselike grip. He couldn’t remember what specifically he’d done to deserve it; it all tended to blend together as his vision whited out. He only remembered the long seconds of wondering if this would be the last time, if this beating would be the breaking point, tipping the scales of their stalemate into death. His or his father’s, he was no longer sure who it would be that would be left lifeless on the ground of their last battle.

It used to be clear to him, that it was his life, twisted and ugly, that would be crushed eventually. But now, the way his muscles lit up with the urgent need to rip down all that surrounded him, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t turn it back on his father, that he wouldn’t sink demon claws into the man’s weakening flesh, that he wouldn’t tear out his bastard lungs with teeth like knives. These were becoming his favorite dreams as his consciousness drifted in and out: that one more hit would unleash the creature inside him. He wanted it even, craved the way he knew he’d finally see fear reflected back at him, the sick father helpless against his teenage son. Unknowingly the man had created a copy of himself, someone who’d learned through his own torture the best ways to make another person suffer.

A quiet voice told him if he ever gave into these fantasies he would no longer need to worry about his father because he would become the man. That getting his revenge would only permanently bind them, ensuring his father’s ghost was inescapable. The voice warned that it was the wrong road to go down, that it would eternalize the thing he feared most. But he was getting better and better at ignoring that voice. What good had it done him to cower and appease? It hadn’t spared him a single broken bone, had not afforded him any sort of safety. Nothing he did had ever stopped the hurricane force of his father from bearing down on him. He was tired of it, he would rather be the strong one, the creature glaring out from the page, his eyes a little wild. Aaron would rather the blood dripping from his teeth belong to someone besides himself for once.

As his mind wandered through these forbidden roads, his eyes got heavy, the warmth of the library tugging at his exhaustion, promising a softly cradled respite. He tried pulling off his sweatshirt to get some cooler air on his skin, to revive him. Once disentangled from his arms, crumpled on the table, the fabric looked inviting. Using it as a pillow, he rested his head on his arms, curling forward around himself. He only closed his eyes so he could imagine his father’s destruction more clearly. He wasn’t going to sleep, he couldn’t sleep. But inside the circle of his arms it was dark, the only sounds his breathing and the rain steadily falling on the skylight. He imagined he could feel it falling across the back of his neck, cooling some of the heat that burned across the map of his skin, following ridges of scars and deep pools of bruises. His anger was nearly gone, the energy for destroying his father forgotten as he found himself back at his oldest wish: to be unseen, unobserved. To be safe, if only for a little while. He didn’t notice when his thoughts slid into dreams.

The hand on his shoulder was light but may as well have been a gunshot with the way it made him jump. If it weren’t for the wall he’d have fallen out of his chair in his attempt to put distance between himself and the likely outraged owner of the hand. He cursed, more at himself for his stupidity but also at whoever had trespassed into his secret area. He blinked trying to focus his eyes, only to find, to his dismay, the librarian, Mrs. Collins. This was the same woman who had been working here since he could remember first coming, trailing his mother one winter afternoon when it was too dangerous to be home but too cold to be anywhere else. He had been small so his memory wasn’t exactly detailed but he thought the librarian had given his mother tea and him a cookie that he ate fastidiously so no crumbs would fall onto the bright pages of the book she pulled out for him. His mother may have been crying, the lady may have comforted her. Or perhaps she’d been the one to make his mother cry with her words. Either way, she never took him back there again.

It wasn’t until he was older, big enough to walk down the street by himself that he started coming to the library on his own. Exploring first the children’s section and then, whenever there were other children who recognized him, glaring and whispering, he started moving into the adult stacks. It was like a different world in the adult section. He tried to avoid the other patrons, ducking behind shelves to watch them as they browsed. He’d learned a lot about people by watching the way they picked out books. Whenever he got tired of this hide-and-seek game he played by himself, he’d try to find the most out of the way, inconspicuous corners to wedge himself. That had been how he’d found his spot beneath the skylight. These days he had less interest in the other people and spent very little time in the travelled areas. But he still felt drawn to the library, thankful for the solitude the building provided.

In all that time, it had been the same librarian waiting at the front desk, greeting him when he walked in, sending her well wishes with him as he left. She always spoke kindly to him, gently suggesting books or topics he might be interested in. When he was still young, too young to be aware that libraries were not normally places for eating, she would give him a snack when he arrived. Something small, an apple or a granola bar. His favorite was when she baked muffins, the round blueberries bursting like little bubbles popping between his teeth, their warm juice unlike anything he was given to eat at home. It wasn’t until middle school when he saw some other kids from his school eyeing his library snack. He’d felt them watching as she handed it over to him behind the circulation desk, could hear the not-so-subtle comments about how poor do you have to be to be fed by the librarian; how much must your parents hate you; how greedy can one person be, taking food from little old ladies. It didn’t matter to them that half the things they said contradicted the other half, only that each got the same reaction from him, his shoulders inching closer to his ears as he tried to disappear into himself. He never accepted food from her again, pointedly avoiding her when the scent of blueberry muffins drifted from behind the desk.

She had been saddened by his pulling away, but she supposed it had only been a matter of time. She didn’t have all the facts about what went on in that house but it was clear enough to her that the boy was not being treated well. She had known his mother when she was young and in love with Aaron’s dark haired father, new to town and breezing through every shop, as if she were announcing her presence to them all. Mrs. Collins hadn’t had the heart then to contradict the young woman’s elation, hadn’t had the courage to warn her away from the notorious Hotchner family. If the man was anything like his father before him, she’d find out soon enough. She was enough of an adult to make her own choices she figured, though the one time she had come in weeping, her young son wide-eyed and silent beside her, she had felt a wash of guilt. Surely even if she had made this mistake, she and her innocent child did not deserve to live such a punishing life as a result. But, though she spoke with the mother for hours, calming her and then trying to persuade her to make a change, nothing came of it. In fact she never saw the woman enter the library again, though occasionally would see her in town, walking into the store with dark sunglasses and a timid gait. She seemed to shrink into herself as the years went by, disappearing into a drift of pale smoke.

So she watched the son, pleased when he started coming in on his own. She tried her best to care for him, though as he grew he developed the same hardness as his father. She wondered when his obvious anger at the world would boil over into something dangerous. She made little gestures, trying not to push him too hard, afraid he would disappear just as his mother had, or perhaps more worryingly, lose his temper and display some of the explosive Hotchner tendencies she’d only heard rumors of. A few times she’d been almost certain she saw the resulting damage of that temper patterned against the child’s pale skin but it was never something that couldn’t be casually explain away. All she could do was continue what she had been doing. Watching and waiting for a clear sign.

She’d seen him walk in that morning, could tell he wasn’t in the mood to talk, his hood pulled low as if he could disguise his sharp nose, the nearly black hair falling into his eyes. As if it was possible to hide in a town this small. There were no secrets here, not really, only a shared suspension of disbelief. Only a willful ignorance of facts too complicated, too uncomfortable to address. So she let him have his illusion of stealth, but it had been hours and she hadn’t seen him slink back out so she went looking. Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten so close to him but he’d looked so young in his sleep, face slackened of any scowl or stoicism. His head had rolled to one side, ear tucked into his elbow. His shirt, a few dozen washes past the point of being more than a glorified rag hung too loosely on him, even worse up close than she’d be able to see with her poor vision. The thing that had made her decision for her, made her lose sight of how risky it could be to startle him awake, was where his loose shirt collar had pulled away from his neck, his long hair swinging forward and exposing the purple and red bruising that wrapped around his pale skin. She’d seen him with injuries before, they all had, but it was always a fall, an accident, a thick streak of clumsiness that ran in the family. She’d never been confronted with a wound so definitively hand shaped. She could see the outlines of each finger, could see the blood blister where a heavy ring had pressed against his skin harder than the rest. She didn’t have time to stop herself before she reacted, her horror at the reality of what she was seeing was too great. Her brain didn’t want to process it, so she woke him if only so she wouldn’t have to be frozen by the image of the sleeping boy lost in this dusty space.

After a minute of sputtering fear, Aaron managed to wrestle down his nightmares. But he was not comforted by the familiar face of the librarian. Though he’d known her for years, she’d never given him a look quite like that. He did not like that look at all, could tell something had changed in his sleep, that he was in trouble for more than just falling asleep at the library. She lifted her hand like she wanted to reach out and touch him and he looked at it warily, shrinking back as if he could melt into the wall but she didn’t come any closer.

“Aaron,” she began and he flinched at the sound of his name. He was able to pretend people didn’t know who he was as long as they didn’t call him by name. He hated it when anyone used the word, a curse reminding him over and over of his pathetic reality.

She wasn’t sure how to continue. “Are you alright sweetheart?”

He ignored the endearment, frowning at his inability to decipher what she wanted from him. “I’m fine,” he said guardedly. He tried to look around, to see if he’d knocked something over or done something in his sleep that would warrant such a concerned look.

“You were sleeping pretty hard there.”

He shrugged in response. He wasn’t proud of it but it wasn’t the strangest thing anyone had ever done at the library. He gathered his nerve to look at her again and saw she was still staring at him but not quite at his face, somewhere just to the right of him he thought. Her fingers twitched again and he crossed his arms over his chest, trapping his backpack and hoodie and holding them close.

“Your neck…” she touched her own neck in the same place he’d been hurt,.“Honey, who did this to you?”

His hand immediately flew up to cover the bruising he only now realized was visible. He’d been a fool to take off his sweatshirt, he’d just been so warm, had figured he was well out of sight. “No one, it’s nothing,” he stammered but it was useless, his automatic response having already given him away.

“Aaron,” she tried to sound stern, she wanted to help him, needed to help this child she’d been idly sitting by and watching drown for years but she couldn’t do that without his cooperation. She’d done everything she could to earn his trust but she needed a little give from him, just one step toward her and she was certain she could do something to improve this awful situation.

“It’s none of your fucking business lady,” his voice was sharp, the echo of his father’s tone sending a shiver down his spine. He might already look and sound too much like the man but he wasn’t sure he was ready to be him, to take on his role of intimidating the world.

Mrs. Collins was too shocked to say anything, her hand covering her mouth that had dropped open in surprise. The stereotypical vision of an offended old woman made Aaron’s blood boil, steeling his resolve and shaking off his disquiet over sounding like his father. She had brought this on herself, coming into his space, putting her nose where it didn’t belong. She deserved to be a little uneasy, it was only fair. Suddenly a few more of his swirling thoughts locked into place and he realized the point that had been agitating him like a loose tooth. Why had she come up here to find him? She’d never bothered him before, though he was sure she must have known for a long time where he went to hide. Sometimes it was so oddly and consistently empty up there he thought she might direct patrons away from the area to give him some privacy. He leapt to his feet, towering over her now, he’d been nearly as tall as her when sitting. She’d really become a little old lady in the time it’d taken him to grow into himself.

“Why are you here?” His voice lost its meanness, only a racing anxiety left in its place. “Did someone call?”

She had a hard time following this quick jump but she watched with even more concern as he dropped his backpack on the ground and struggled to put on his sweatshirt. As he lifted his arms to pull it over his head, his shirt rode up and exposed sharp hip bones and the edges of what she could only assume were more bruises. She shook her head. She couldn’t understand what he meant.

His mind raced too fast to put together an explanation though he felt the nagging urge to apologize for his words before, this woman hadn’t done anything wrong, had certainly only ever been good to him. “What time is it?” He finally found a question she could answer.

“It’s almost three thirty.”

His heart dropped into his stomach and for a second he thought he would be sick right there. His vision swam, white spots blurring the image of the woman in front of him. He reached blindly for his backpack, already stumbling forward, knocking the forgotten mythology book off the table with his shoulder. It crashed down with the pages crushed beneath it but he didn’t have time to fix it, didn’t have time to apologize or explain. He wasn’t sure he had anything but borrowed moments left in his life. He wasn’t supposed to fuck this up. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He brushed by her, trying not to touch her but failing in the cramped space. He muttered a sorry as she shuffled to the side, catching herself on one of the shelves of old books. She pressed a hand to her heart, willing it to calm itself, settle back into a rhythm that could support her, to get her lungs to pull in air steadily as she watched him run to the stairs. A few moments later she heard a shout of alarm as he ran through the lobby and out the door. Where he was going she couldn’t imagine but she knew, sadly, she wouldn’t see him back here again.

She debated whether to tell anyone about what she saw but couldn’t quite decide who would be best. As she went back and forth in her mind, so much time passed that it began to seem silly. She began to doubt herself, her memory and her old eyes in the dim light. She still saw the family, never in the library but around, never looking very different. A few months later the father died and it didn’t seem so important anymore anyway. The situation had resolved itself. She went to the funeral and sat in the back, watching the son stand beside his mother, eyes dry and angry, the spitting image of his father, his cruelty had left an indelible mark. Aaron, she could tell, would be unable to ever escape the man, his image following him from mirror to mirror reminding him of what he came from.

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #teen hotch #hotch backstory

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yungviry · 9 months

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a fucking mess

man guys it happened, i ran into my ex! and boy was it terrible. let me set the scene: im at the gas station and simultaneously pumping gas and recording a snapchat video like we do. and as im done pumping the gas and getting back into the car and watching back my video, he pops into my car window. completely caught me off guard. i cant remember all the shit he said but he did say stop "talking shit about me online". which i found to be annoying but whatever. i pulled away as fast as i could and parked down the street. i tried my best to not give a reaction or say a word and i didnt. i pulled over and cried for a bit like a fucking pussy, cause i couldnt handle it. my ass was so stressed. i dot know about yall but i dont ever expect to see an ex after a breakup unless its intentional. and the fact that he was just at my neighborhood arco was just a nightmare. officially never going there again.

im telling yall a breakup is different for everyone. we cope differently and its all good. a bitch will be revealing but just know that my book will but much better. and the focus isnt necessary my ex's but more so my life after blossoming into a woman if you will. a bitch hit a hundred bodies i feel like i got a story to tell. and 100 isnt a lot but in 3 years i give myself a pat on the back. theres just a lot of tales and unfortunate situations i got myself into.

malik is an ass. was an ass. i dont care for the terminology hes a menace and no im not gunna shut up about him to an extent. sometimes i remember that he used to hit me, sometimes i remember he used to be rude as fuck, i remember when he told me he had herpes and religiously blamed it on his last girlfriend. he was a big piece of shit and i just feel if someone wants to get involved with him they should know the indiscretion he omits.

Malik Salam shit list (from oakland in case you women are unaware)

-cheater (multiple times, im aware im the dumbass that took him back like 4 times for the same shit but imma still add it to my list cause a bitch was gaslight like a motherfucker till i saw shit for myself)((this is as in messaging/hooking up with master rochi/the white bitch im blanking on her name right now)

-has fucking herpes and reused to let anyone of his previous sexual partners know

-constantly asked to borrow money with and told me hed pay me back, blackmailed me by saying he woulnt pay me back if we broke up, and for the whole 3 years almost never paid back any of the money

im sorry the money always be pissing me off. like yall don understand when i get to the malik chapter of my book im gunna go off. he whole ass knew since december 2021 that his friend was getting married in vegas in october 2022. told me up and down i wasnt going. literally could have convos about how i was axed from those plans. and because hes cheap (or broke i didnt looked at his accounts) a month before he tells me i can suddenly go. "book the room and well split it" never got his half. paid for gas the whole way there. paid for the majority of meals. but dont worry he shared his weed.

actually at some point in the planning he uninvited me from the wedding and said "i could still come to vegas just not the wedding" so my ass didnt even have a fit for the wedding, we went shopping out there. just thinking about this shit is annoying. supposedly your best friend is getting married but you didnt put any money away for the whole event. spent the 4 days there watching squid games in his car, he did bring weed so we shared our weed too, and didnt really do shit. went to the hoover dam and the grand canyon, but not really the grand canyon cause e got there when it was dark and didnt see shit. but overall i spent a band on the trip and never got half of that.

gosh i hate shitting on someone cause obviously you loved them and thought well of them at some point so just know im ranting. this really is my space so my ass sometimes just wants to shit on the bitch i tried to really see the good in. like the basic consensus is i feel stupid as fuck and im not gunna go tell my homies exactly how big a shit head he was. i didnt while we were together and i aint finna start. so imma just write it out and shit on his ass on my tumblr like any healthy and coping young lady.

and his hair looks stupid so very much happy.

its crazy cause ive been thinking abut derrick lately (my og ex boyfriend) and then byrd hits me up to hang out (my og fuck buddy). the byrd thing isnt soo soo weid just cause i did hit him up like a week ago to say happy birthday. but his ass doesnt munch box so theres no point in hooking up.

however derrick...

man i aint seen him in like a over a year, his birthdays at the end of the month and i have a bit of a birthday message already in the works. hes gunna be 30 at the end of the month and it makes me remember our pact, said wed marry each other if we were still single. but last time i seen him i said "can we change our pact age to 40" 30 still young i still have time and plenty of fish still swimming around.

see that man is a muncher, not the best, but hes alright for the occasion. but its not the munching im there for its the wiener. see his wiener could have a whole chapter in my book too. i was obsessed with it and him. he just fucks hella good, im sorry im repetitive but damn that man works his wiener like a king. if i could have one last fuck it be him forsure. sometimes i can still feel it if i concentrate, and 100% will get goose bumps. sometimes i feel like hitting him up but he still has the same girlfriend, and last time we hooked up im sure it was some type of sneak off on his part, but thats exactly why im unlucky with love. i be fucking with this man and i dont know if hes single single. and he wasnt a good partner either, he cheated too and lied about that shit, except i actually left after the first time.

idk didnt mean to go off topic, sometimes i start spewing and shit gets all mixed together. lowkey i have had derrick on the brain so to see malik was just hella wild. im pretty sure he called me but last time i checked we didnt have shit to say to each other. i spent 3 years giving that amn all the opportunity to tell me wassup to spill his guts and truly im over it and if hes tickled that im "exposing" him for being a shitty boyfriend when in reality im just fucking telling my truth is obnoxious. he hit me he cheated on me he lied about all the shit he was doing and continued to even when confronted. like my ass is just hurt and im gunna let it out

#rant #rant post #personal rant

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kausstar · 11 months

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PRETTY THING

bo sinclair x bimbo! female! reader￨nsfw-ish content￨wc: 1k

bo uses you as an attraction for ambrose (couldn’t come up with a better description…)

tags dark and spicy content (no smut). talks of murder. jealous! bo. established relationship. thicker! reader in mind. praise kink (reader). mean and soft! bo. you being obsessed with his voice. he picks you up once. he gave that ass a hit.

𝓴aus. my first time writing for a official slasher and i am kicking my feeeettttt right now.

you hummed lightly to a song that played in your head, tracing the wrench bo had just handed you. you were supposed to put it back on the wall behind you but completely forgot once you felt the heavy weight of it in your hands. the desk you were sitting on was warm from the heat, on your exposed thighs. “sweetheart?” bo calls who’s steps in front of you. not directly in front you, but under a lifted car. he’s been working on the thing all morning and you kinda missed him :(.

his thick accent knocks you out of your trance, making you look in his direction, just to find half of his body sticking from up under the car. “yes?” you answer. “can hand me the screwdriver?” he asks, hoping you would know by now what it looked like. he’d tried to teach you and you tried to listen but bo’s voice just keep getting to your head. it was already foggy enough but his rich voice made it even worse.

“y-yeah,” you stutter, turning around to look at all the tools you had forgotten. silence fell upon the gas station as you looked at the broad. you wanted to find it so bo would praise you for listening to him but you just couldn’t remember. you hadn’t noticed the pout that fell on your lips but bo did once he’d slide from up under the car to look at you. the pout on your face makes him speak up again.

“the red one to your left, sweetheart,” he hummed, making you look to your left and grab the red handled tool. you hop down from the desk and walk over to bo who’s still sitting on the creeper. “‘m sorry, i didn’t remember,” you frown as you hand him the screwdriver. “it’s all right. just try to ‘member harder next time,” he nods to you. you’re thankful he’s not mad, but how could he be mad when those short shorts look so delicious on your body? you give him a smile and before he could slide back under you hear people- very loud and laughing people.

you had been expecting them ever since bo had spotted them the night before. “close the garage for me,” bo asks as he stands from his sitting position. you do as he asks and walk over with all intentions of doing so but you just can’t reach the garage door to pull it down. bo hears whines from you as he tries to put away the tools he’s been using. he spots you struggling and can only help but grin. he asked you to do it on purpose, of course. why wouldn’t he wanna see you struggle and whine?

the fat of your ass looked so good in those shorts too. “i got it, pound cake,” he says, suddenly closer than before as he grabs the garbage door and pulls it down without much effort. you pout again, just wanting to do good for him but he was being so mean. he only grinned at your pout this time. “go out there before they get ahead of us,” he says, making you nod and head for the door. bo couldn’t help but to give your ass a good smack as you walk away, and you could only yelp in surprise.

outside, you watched as one blonde guy looked around ambrose, eyes scanning the buildings. with him, they’re two other guys, one hair dark brown, tall while the others a dusty blonde also tall. all rather young. v is gonna love turning them into statues, you thought. the one with the dark hairs eyes caught a sight of you first and scans you from head to toe with his eyes and a grin.

once the three of them made it over to you, dark hair steps close. “aren’t you a pretty thing?” he coo’s, grin devilish but not as pretty as bo’s. “stop that…” blonde guy says, pulling the other one back. “sharing is caring, alright?” he adds grinning, before looking back over at you. “hey, sweetheart. our car broke down a couple miles back and we need a fan belt,” he grins, licking his lips a bit at you. you can’t help but smile. “i’m not completely sure what that is but you can ask bo. he’s good with cars,” you nod, sweetly.

the blonde nods with a smile while you watch the other two eye you from behind him. “he’s doing something right now but he’ll be done in a sec. wanna come in?” you ask, gesturing over to the gas station. “sure. lead the way,” he grins. you turn around, making your way into the station as you hear groaning behind you. “you know, you sure do look so damn beautiful in those shorts,” one of them groans out, as you spin around to look at them in the station.

“thx. bo got them for me. said i looked delicious enough to eat in them,” you cheesed, head going a bit foggy at the thought of the way he ate you like a starve man that same night. you only hope he’d be worked up after handling the three men standing in front of you so he could fuck you senseless later. you’re head was so foggy that it hadn’t noticed one of them inching closer to you. “he wasn’t lying about that,” the dusty blonde grinned, licking his lips as he stared at your tits.

“what do you need, fellas?” you can’t help but smile at his voice. all of you look over at the man leaning on the doorframe as he wiped his hands on a dirty towel. “bo,” you grinned, quick to walk over to him. bo watched as all the guys eyes followed your every movement. so once you made it to his side, he stood up straight and put his arm around your waist. “pretty girl you got there,” the dusty blonde grins, eyeing you like a piece of candy while you hug onto bo’s side.

“i know. now, what do you fellas need?” he said, more stern now. the blonde glares at the others while he steps forward. “we need a fan belt. 16, i am pretty sure,” he says, and bo nods. “might have some here or some up at the house. if ya don’t mind taking the walk,” he says before looking at all of them for an answer. “yeah, that’s cool,” the blonde haired one says with a nod. “yeah. yeah, we can walk,” dusty blonde says. “is she coming?” dark haired one asks, brown eyes lingering on you once again.

bo thinks about driving a screwdriver through his neck but he only looks down at you. you find yourself looking back up at him. “nah, she’s got some remembering to do, don’t you?” he grins, with a nod trying to help you remember the tool incident that happened minutes before. you looked at him confused for a second before finally remembering and nodding up at him. “yeah,” you smile thinking about how he’d praise you for even remembering one.

bo looks back over at the guys who are just staring at the two of you. “i’ll go check for the fan belt and let ya know if we have to take that walk,” he nods, before heading back into the garage area with you. he walks you over to the table by all the tools before picking you up and sitting you down on the table.

“sit here and look real pretty for me, alright?” he grins at you, hands trailing from your sides to your thighs. you grow needy feeling his calloused thumb rub the sides of your thighs. you nod with a big smile to him. “good girl,” he says before patting your left thigh and leaving the garage.

 2023 kausstar.

don’t ask my black ass what that ending was. just know, he’s fine and his voice is finer! 😛

#⋆ 𐙚 ₊ ˚ star #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair #slasher x s/o #slasher x reader #slashers #slashers x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x you #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #house of wax x reader #house of wax smut #x bimbo! reader

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slasherbastard · 3 years

Text

Kinktober 2021: Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader (Virgin)

(gif credit: houseofheelshirearchive)

Warnings: (oh boy here we go) Swearing, Dirty talk, finger fucking, oral (f! receiving), thigh riding, degradation, innocence kink, corruption kink, slight overstimulation, edging (let me know if I missed any) MINORS DNI Word count: 2495 Notes: Did you really think I wasn’t going to post at least one thing for kinktober? What kind of animal do you take me for?

You let out the breath you'd been holding as you fell against the backwall of the church and slid into the dead grass. You had came into the dead town with some friends after you were having car trouble and were told a friendly mechanic would be able to help out but as it turns out, the mechanic wanted to kill you guys instead. So now here you were, struggling to breathe after hopefully outrunning the madman and getting separated from your friends in the process.

You knew that something was off but you said nothing since you thought it was just the paranoia messing with your brain. A close to abandoned town and an overly friendly townsperson who seemed to be the only person populating said town was bound to be the plot of a horror movie but you kept your mouth shut because you didn't want to seem rude - he was the only person willing to help, after all and anyways, talking wasn't really your strong point anyways and Bo caught on quickly, most of the exchanges between the two of you were simple glances and maybe one or two subtle glances at your ass that you caught in the reflection of one of the gas station windows when he assumed you were staring at the pet store down the street.

From just about 20 feet away you heard the church door echo as it slammed shut causing you to freeze up, throwing a hand over your mouth for safe measures as you tried to sneak a look around the wall. Nobody. The dead grass beneath you crunched as you found your previous position and let go of your mouth, letting out that breath you were holding and closing your eyes or a moment. You mentally told yourself that you were going to get out of this alive. You were going to find your friends and get out of this freakshow town alive. You opened your eyes and went to stand up but instead you looked up only to be met by Bo.

'Now what are you doing all alone?' Shit. You scrambled and tried to get up but he grabbed you and pulled you up before throwing your back against the church wall. His mouth curved up as you winced in pain before grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder. Now you were mentally beating yourself up, how did you let this happen? How did you convince yourself and your friends that coming here would be a good idea? You both entered the gas station and Bo found his way down to the basement and kicked open the door.

You didn't bother putting up a fight as he threw you down into a chair and restrained your limbs with leather cuffs and duct tape, usually he liked someone who put up a good fight but he was also glad you were making this a whole lot easier considering he "let one of your friends escape". 'You thought you could run?' He muttered mostly to himself and moved behind you where you could hear clattering as if he was rummaging through torture devices or whatever he did to his previous victims - the wall of polaroids of half naked girls gave it away. Suddenly he appeared back in front of you holding something. 'You gonna scream?' You shook your head. 'Good because it'd be a shame having to glue that mouth of yours shut.'

He disappeared behind you again and then walked over to the bench on the opposite side of the room and grabbed a stool. 'Wanna at least tell me your name?' You didn't want to answer but you had to remind yourself that this was a serial killer and being silent forever wasn't the same as playing it safe, his intentions confused you but if these were going to be your last moments alive then you may as well make it worthwhile.

'Y/N.'

'There's that voice of yours. It's nice to personally meet you, Y/N.'

'Are you going to kill me?' If you could you would've glued your own lips shut but Bo didn't seem that bothered by the sudden question, instead he just shook his head and watched as you moved against the chair while trying to find a more comfortable position with the tight leather bindings restraining most if not all your movements. Relief washed over you as he slightly spread his legs and leaned forward, toying with his veiny hands. 'Okay. . .where are my friends?'

Bo shrugged. 'Probably dead by now. s'not like they'd make it through the night here.' The way this was so normal to him that he could talk about dead strangers like he was talking about the weather made you sick to your gut. He wasn't paying much attention to you - it wasn't like he had to, you had no way of escaping the restraints that kept you glued to the chair anyways. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes but you held them back.

'Well then I'm next, right?'

'Why? You got people waiting for you?' He sounded annoyed and continued his ramble. 'Bet there's a handsome man waiting for you back home. What's his name?' You avoided Bo's gaze as a tinge of pink painted your cheeks, you were too embarrassed to tell him that there was no one. 'Anyone? Come on, a pretty one like you has to have somebody.'

'There's no one.' He seemed surprised - no, intrigued, maybe turned on? You were trying to decipher him through his tone without making eye contact with him. 'I've never dated before.'

'Seriously, have you even had your first kiss yet?' He stood up and got closer, not even bothering to hide the smug look on his face as you shook your head and looked up at him. 'Does that mean you're a-'

'. . .Virgin.' You were so quiet that Bo almost didn't hear you. He looked back at you with widened eyes, you could tell his mind was flooding with fantasies.

'Nobody's ever touched you, huh?' He tilted his head up and watched you as you nervously drummed your curled fingers against your palms and your face fell to the floor, he grabbed your chin and brought you back up to meet his face with a quick movement. You shook your head. 'You ever touched yourself?' Your face heated up and you tried to turn away but Bo just laughed to himself and turned your face back to meet his again. 'Well, at least we won't be starting completely from scratch.'

Confused, you watched as he let go of you and picked up a knife from behind your chair. 'Now I'm gonna trust you not to kick me, can you do that?'

You nodded and watched as he cut away and ripped off the duct tape before throwing the knife away and pulling off your shoes before reaching for the buttons of your jeans and undoing them along with the zipper. You pulled yourself up to allow him to pull your jeans down while giving you another smug look. 'Nice to see you're cooperating. Don't want you to end up as one of those wax freaks now, don't we?' He nodded along with you and scanned your body one more time before he moved around behind the chair and reached down, letting his hands find their way down your body and down your shirt.

'Tonight's all about you, baby.'

He pressed his lips to your forehead and pulled apart your shirt. An audible gasp left your mouth at the unexpected action causing him to laugh and mutter something under his breath as he began working at your breasts, his lips still connected to your temple. He took his time pinching and flicking at your nipples before aggressively massaging them then moving from his position behind you to your side and leaving sloppy kisses - if you were to call them that - down your neck and chest until his mouth landed on your left nipple. Your head fell back at the sensation and you bit down on your lip to hide a moan which ended up coming out anyways causing Bo to look up at you with a smile before gently biting down on the area, his other hand still pulling at and massaging your other breast before he switched over and did the same thing vice versa to the other nipple.

Bo went off at the area around your neck again. If you woke up the next morning - if you were still alive - and the area was every shade of purple and red known to man, you wouldn't be surprised. He kept one hand on your breast and slid the other one down to the waistband of your underwear before tearing it away and stopped for a moment to admire your core.

'Well, well, would 'ya look at that.' He said as he moved around you and stopped with his face just a few inches from your pussy. He took his hands and spread your lips, chuckling as he saw how wet you already were. 'And I haven't even touched you down here yet. Virgins never fail to amaze me.'

He took a finger and swiped it at the wetness and stuck his finger in his mouth, letting out a satisfied sound before he inserted his finger into your folds causing you to throw your head back again. You let out a moan before he stuck another finger inside you and began to thrust them in and out of you. This all felt so wrong. One second you were in tears over your friends possibly being dead and now here you were, letting the killer finger fuck you like there was no tomorrow. But at the same time it felt so good. Your brain was melting as he worked his magic and you were so horny that it didn't matter.

'Please, please, please, p- fuck - please-' You whimpered under your breath as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Before you knew it he had brought his lips to your nub and began to suck on it. That mixed with him finger fucking you was driving you over the edge and you didn't know if you were going to be able to last any longer without cumming. You tried to add friction by rocking your pelvis against his fingers but he used his free hand to hold you down.

'You gonna cum for me? You're gonna cum all over my fingers like the pathetic virgin you are? How are you gonna handle my cock when you can't even handle my fingers? Huh?' He nodded along with you and bit his lip at the sight of you whimpering and squirming, slowly growing harder in his coveralls.

'Yes- holy shit-' The sudden feeling of emptiness irritated you but that washed away when Bo came around and began undoing your restraints, you didn't get time to rub the stiff pain from your wrists or catch your breath as Bo pulled you out of the chair and sat down in the stool before pulling you onto his lap. He readjusted you so you were straddling his thigh with your body gently pressed against his.

'Alright darling, you're going to ride this one out on your own.' You looked up at him and went to nod but he quickly grabbed your chin. 'Use your words, darling.'

'Yes, Bo.' And with that you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands gripped your hips and began to guide you at a steady pace. The friction from the fabric that covered Bo's tensed thigh was already enough to drive you over the top. He watched you roll your hips towards him and he watched your face scrunch in pleasure while you quietly moaned into his ear, all of it was driving him wild but he had enough patience to wait his turn.

It felt like it'd been hours as you struggled to meet that climax that seemed to just keep building but never showed any sign of stopping. You groaned in annoyance after trying to speed up your grinding only for Bo to slow you down and fix you to a slower speed. 'I can't do it Bo. Need - Ah, fuck - need you.' You felt so pathetic begging him for his cock but you were oh so desperate. The ache in between your legs mixed with the pleasure from the friction from the fabric of his coveralls was like torture as you continued to chase something that you weren't even close to achieving. You tried to use your fingers for that extra bit of help but Bo was quick to grab your wrist before it could reach your nub.

'No touching.' Bo let your wrist go and gave your ass a quick squeeze and let go of you, allowing you to ride his thigh as much as you wanted. While you did so he just watched in awe, absolutely obsessed with the way you moved against him and used him to get where you wanted. He began dirty talking you, taking your face into one of his hands and forcing you to make eye contact with him as you rode him, nearly close to tears from all the pain and pleasure you couldn't wait to release.

'Look at you, little virgin. Making a mess all over my fucking lap.' Oh god, the way he talked down to you would've been enough to bring you to an orgasm alone. It was building up so quick that you didn't get a chance to say anything before you fell against Bo and actually got hit with that climax that had been teasing you. You continued riding it out until you were too overstimulated to handle any more friction and was left a shaking mess hanging over Bo's thigh, muttering pleas into his chest. After a few minutes you tried to pull away but Bo's grip on your ass left you stuck in this awkward position with you naked and stuck against his fully clothed body. Once you had calmed down he helped you up off his thigh and admired the wet patch that'd been left where you were sitting.

Embarrassed, you turned and tried to find your clothes - or at least what was salvageable, that being your jeans and maybe your bra - and quickly threw them on, still trying not to make eye contact with Bo as you looked up through the slits in the drain above you. Maybe if somebody were still alive then they would've heard you (somebody had to have heard you). You hadn't even noticed Bo sneaking out until he spoke up. 'Wait here, I'm gonna find you a shirt or something.' Before leaving and locking the door. You could've sworn you heard screaming, but it was hard to hear over your laboured breathing you were still trying to steady out.

#kinktober #kinktober2021 #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #bo sinclair smut #smut #slasher smut #slasher #horror #slasher fandom #bo n.sfw #minors dni

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tootiredmotel · 3 years

Text

Electricity

Inspired by @ledzeppelinmixtape 's emoji prompt: ⛈

Read on ao3 or below / 2.3k words

It's 11pm and storming biblically when Dean and Cas's apartment goes dark.

"Great," Dean mutters under his breath. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

From somewhere else in the apartment, his roommate asks "did the power go out?"

"What do you think, sunshine?" Dean replies sarcastically.

He has a half-written essay in front of him, but he knows his old-ass computer won't last long unplugged, so he saves the document before shutting it off. He leans back in his chair, stretching for the first time in an hour and running a hand down his face. He actually needed a break from the screen, he realizes, feeling his eyes relax as he rubs them.

The steady rain and strong winds outside make an overwhelming white noise track, interrupted only by thunder that goes from faint and distant to deafening in volume. If Dean wasn't stressed out of his mind and completely exhausted right now, he might actually find this kind of nice.

"It's raining cats and mice out there," he hears Cas say, his voice now in the room.

Dean smiles, still rubbing his eyes with the backs of both his hands. "Cats and dogs, Cas."

"Right. Cats and dogs."

It’s really no use correcting him; the entire animal kingdom could be falling from the sky right now and there wouldn't be much of a difference. The winds are definitely knocking things over, and the streets will certainly be flooded come morning. Dean wonders for how long the university will cancel classes after this (if at all, the heartless bloodsuckers).

A particularly loud clap of thunder startles Dean. He drops his hands from his face and opens his eyes, expecting to see pitch black nothingness, but the room is faintly lit by the flashlight Cas is holding as he rummages through their kitchen drawers. He approaches a minute later and sets a candle down on the small table.

"Smart."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, sitting down opposite him. Dean smiles again, this time shaking his head.

If anyone ever asked him to mention one thing he likes about Cas, just one, he'd probably say how genuine Cas is, how he takes everything to heart and speaks from it as well. Dean said just one word, smart, a simple comment on the fact that it occurred to Cas to light a candle instead of wasting the battery of their one flashlight, and Cas genuinely thanked him for the compliment. He's just ridiculously cute in his earnestness.

Cas is trying to light the candle now, but their lighter is tricky. Despite living together in that apartment for a year and a half now Cas has never really gotten the hang of it.

"Here, let me."

Dean means to take the lighter from Cas and do it himself, he really does. That is 100% his intention as he reaches across the table. Except he sees an opportunity, and Dean Michael Winchester is nothing if not smooth.

He wraps his hand around Cas's, gently guiding his fingers until they’re placed just right, and the lighter clicks on with ease. Cas meets his eyes, smiling, and Dean can feel the slightest brush of Cas’s thumb against his hand. It’s a small gesture, but clearly deliberate, and it sends Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas leans away, puts the lighter aside, and starts leafing through a book he brought. Dean’s heart is still racing as he watches him.

Scratch that first thing. If anyone ever asked him what’s one thing he likes about Cas? His hands. God. Neat nails, slightly calloused palms, and overall larger hands than you’d expect. Cas is an environmental science major and he wants to get a Ph.D. in botany, so of course, there’s a small garden on their fire escape. He tends to those plants every day with more gentleness and care than Dean has ever seen, and Dean loves to watch him, even though he has no idea what Cas is doing with them half the time. He just knows that not a single one of their plants have died under Cas’s care. He names them too.

His attentiveness. That��s another thing Dean might say if anyone ever asked. Cas left to visit his sister Anna last winter break. He left Dean in charge of the plants, three of which died inside the week. (For Dean’s birthday a couple of months later, Cas got him a book. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean keeps it on his nightstand.) Dean went out and bought new ones, but he knew Cas would notice the difference, and he did. He wasn’t mad at Dean though, and he appreciated the effort, and as Dean apologized profusely over and over again, Cas looked at him in the eyes oh-so-softly and told him he was forgiven.

How could Dean possibly forget? If anyone ever asked, he’d say that Cas’s eyes are one of his favorite things about him. One of his favorite things, period. Dean is absolutely mesmerized whenever Cas looks him in the eye, and the guy loves making eye contact, which means that Dean lives in a perpetual smitten daze. He has never seen that shade of blue anywhere else on this earth. Or maybe he just hasn’t been looking, content to get his fill of that blue by staring into Cas’s eyes as much as he gets to on a daily basis.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean blinks himself back to reality. “Hm?”

“You seem… spaced.”

Dean is staring. He’s been staring this whole time. Shit. Crap.

“Yeah, um. Just tired.”

Mr. Smooth, everybody.

“Maybe you should go get some rest. I doubt the power will be back anytime soon.”

Castiel Milton, always looking out for you. It makes Dean melt.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wanna stay here with you, though, he thinks. Instead, because he’s pathetic, he asks “what’re you reading?”

Cas shows him the cover. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean breaks out in laughter.

“So you’re going into my room and stealing my shit now?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your Vonneguts.” Cas puts the book aside, an easy smile on his face. “Just wanted something light to pass the time.”

“You done with your homework?”

A soft yawn escapes Cas. “For now.”

“Dude, why not just go to sleep? You look exhausted.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Dean tries to deadpan him. He fails, because around Cas, it’s near impossible for him to not smile.

“Besides, I might be done but you weren’t.”

“And you wanted to keep me company.”

Cas shrugs as if to say I guess, but he does it with a knowing smile. The smile doesn’t falter as he meets Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t look away when silence settles between them, the only sound being the stormy white noise.

Dean is sure he could drown in that blue and die happy.

Before that train of thought gets away from him again, Dean tears his gaze away and stretches. “We should really go to bed though, I’m not getting any more done tonight,” he says as he stands.

“Of course,” Cas says, but he grabs the book again.

“You not going?”

“I want to finish this chapter.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Dean smile. Again.

“Well, g’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean thinks he detects a bit of shakiness in Cas’s voice but decides that he’s probably just tired.

He gets to his room and changes into something comfortable, the first t-shirt and sweatpants he finds as he rummages in the dark. He goes to set his phone on his nightstand and crawl into bed, but in place of the book he keeps there and puts his phone on top of– the book Cas has at the moment– he finds something else.

It’s paper. It’s folded into the form of a book, like one of those youtube craft tutorials with bad music, and it's no bigger than his own palm. The cover is handwritten, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Cas's. He smiles, expecting a prank or joke of some sort, Cas knows how stressed Dean can get with the start of the semester. However, his smile falters as he reads the cover:

How to tell your best friend you’re in love with him.

With a shaky hand, Dean opens the small book. The first page is the only one with any more writing on it, and it reads:

You leave him a note and hope it’s enough.

Dean is storming out of his bedroom (no pun intended) before he knows it. He barely even feels his feet moving, too focused on the pounding in his ears and the dryness in his mouth. He doesn’t go into the living room, not yet; his feet stop at the end of the short hallway and he braces himself against the wall. The room is spinning and he can barely breathe.

“Cas?” He chokes out.

Cas puts the book back down on the table in front of him and interlocks his fingers in front of him. He doesn’t look at Dean– Cas, who makes too much eye contact – and takes a deep breath before saying “yes?”

He’s nervous.

Dean takes a step forward, still keeping one hand on the wall just in case, and holds up the note. “What is this?” he asks, because his brain is just not there with him yet.

Cas stands, still not facing Dean. “Dean, do you know what day it is?”

He’s asking this now???

“September firs–”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Cas isn’t today the–”

“The night we met. Two years ago.”

Dean feels his brain catching up now as the memory starts coming back to him. Cas helps, starting to recount that night.

“Two years ago tonight, I was leaving my night course at the university, and it was raining. Not as bad as this,” –Cas looks out the window and lightning strikes, as if on cue– “but pretty badly, and I was an inexperienced freshman without an umbrella.”

Dean remembers. He was walking Charlie to her dorm when it started drizzling, and it was pouring by the time he made it back to his car. Dean had a night shift at the gas station and was about to head there.

“Two years ago tonight,” Cas continues, “you invited me into your car to shelter me from the rain.”

Dean saw this guy running in the direction of the men’s dorms, which were on the other side of campus. He felt bad, and he had a car, so he opened the passenger door and let him in.

Turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he’d ever laid eyes on. He was a bit awkward, but he had no filter, which made him weirdly funny. He asked about the music playing in the car and listened intently to Dean's rambling. He laughed at his jokes too.

At the end of the five-minute drive, he said his name was Castiel, and Dean asked for his number and saved it as Cas with a thunderstorm emoji. Because even if he didn’t know it yet, Dean was already whipped.

“Two years ago,” Cas says, finally looking up at Dean. His eyes are wide and vulnerable and he looks terrified and Dean can barely stand it. “Two years ago tonight, I started to fall in love with you.”

Dean can’t breathe. His ears are hot and he can’t stop fidgeting with the note in his hand and he can’t breathe.

But his feet start moving again, out of their own volition. They move toward Cas.

“If you don’t feel–” Cas starts, but Dean swallows his words.

Again, Dean’s brain isn’t all there yet, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already in it. He’s grabbing Cas’s face, digging his fingertips into the back of his hair, and the note is forgotten on the table, and thunder rumbles not that far away. He’s darting out his tongue, begging to explore Cas’s mouth as he’s wanted to do since forever, and Cas lets him. He tastes like toothpaste and coffee and honey and Dean never wants to taste anyone else ever again.

Cas is wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing his entire body against him. It’s making Dean weak in the knees but it’s okay because Cas is almost holding him upright at this point. There’s another clap of thunder, much closer this time, and the lightning probably illuminated the apartment, but it wasn’t enough to make them part. They’re moving and grasping and exploring frantically, and Dean is afraid Cas is going to disappear, or that he’s going to wake up and this will all have been another dream. But no, it’s real, and they’re playing catchup on two years worth of desire and longing and love.

They eventually pull away, breathless and giddy. The only sounds are the rain and the wind. Dean opens his eyes first, needing to see Cas and make sure this is completely, definitely, unequivocally real. Cas is smiling and taking deep breaths, and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders. He opens his eyes a second later, and even in the darkness, even with just the faint candlelight, the blue in them seems to shine. And even though there's no power, it feels as if there's electricity crackling in the air around them. It might be the storm.

No. It's the moment. This moment with Cas is what feels electric.

“Come to bed?” Dean asks, feeling brave and going out on a limb. The only way Cas responds is by interlocking his hand into Dean’s and kissing him again.

And after tonight, for the rest of his life, if anyone ever asks him “what’s one thing you love about Cas?” Dean won’t be able to narrow down an answer.

He’ll just say: “Everything.”

#gen.fics #spncreatorsdaily #creativecaviar #userjennmish #userdorksinlove #userstarry #tuserari #plantdadcas #offbeattraxx #slipper007 #thisisapaige #lyntracks #deancas #destiel #college au #fic #spn #gen creates

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f33itan · 3 years

Note

Hello! Could I get some one shots of the trouble trio (phinks,shalnark,feitan)getting caught checking out their s/o? Of that too much than just one of feitan! Thaaanks. ✨

THIS ^^^^ I LOVE THIS

I made the reader a female, sorry about that. If you wanted it to be different PLEASE let me know so I can tweak it!!

I accidentally deleted Fei’s oneshot at first because my fucking laptop doesn’t allow me to save drafts from requests 😭 I tried to rewrite it bc I was proud anyways

*also ps u don’t have to have big badonkers for this, just enough that you can see a little bit there*

Trouble Trio getting caught Checking Out their s/o!

Feitan Portor

It was early in the morning when you two woke up. After many promises, considerations, and LOTS of begging and convincing, you managed to get Feitan to go to the beach with you.

The night before you had packed everything you guys would need: Sunscreen, towels, food and snacks, shade, chairs, everything. Now you were changing into your bathing suit as was he, facing each others backs respectfully. Once you were finished you grabbed some last minute things and started to pack everything into the car. You both got everything and started driving.

Now the beach was about an hour and a half away so you both agreed to stop by a drive thru and get some quick breakfast. After doing so you continued down the road.

For the most part you avoided traffic, since it was early in the morning, but after nearing the beach it seemed as though the freeway was decently packed. This didn’t bother you since it wasn’t that bad, but Feitan was getting quite irritated.

“Are we, almost there?” You could practically see the venom spat out from his tone, not directed at you but to the ‘nuisances’ blocking the road.

“Yes Fei we’re almost there.”

“These people, are annoying. Drive.”

“Feitan we could crash into somebody if we did that, then we would ESPECIALLY not go to the beach!” Feitan grumbled something and slumped in his seat, as you turned on the radio and changed it to your favorite station. You began to hum the song and bop your head to the beat of the music, this eventually turning into a light dance whilst in the driver’s seat. After a couple of minutes you heard a ‘Click!’ come from Feitan’s side.

“Fei, what did you just do??” He didn’t respond to this, though he showed you his phone. On it was a photo of you dancing and smiling.

“FEITAN PORTOR DELETE THAT NOW”

“Nope 🖤”

“Sone of a.. SHIIITT!!” You stepped on the gas pedal as the honks of people behind you registered in your head. The traffic had been moving this whole time and Feitan didn’t even bother to tell you! All the while you could hear him cracking up in his seat.

By the time you arrived at the beach, unloaded your things from the car, found a spot in the sand and unpacked everything, it was about 11 AM. All that was left to do was undress down to your swimwear, apply sunscreen and head in the water. Undress down to your swimwear... Feitan didn’t like this.

Does she have to do this in front of all of these people?

What if people start checking her out?

What the fuck?

Nevertheless you began to pull up your shirt. You weren’t wearing anything too revealing, just a simple (f/c) one piece that fit well around your body, showing a slight bit of cleavage. Pulling down your shorts as well, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Very familiar eyes..

“FEITAN ARE YOU CHECKING ME OUT?”

“N- no” You could see the blush on his face from the couple feet away you were from him. You picked up your clothes and hurled them at his face as hard as you could, which to your surprise he didn’t dodge.

“Pervy Feitan pervy Feitan pervy Feitan”

“I’M NOT, A PERVERT.”

“Mhm, sure you aren-” You felt him pick you up and begin to speed walk towards the water, I’m sure you could guess what happened next.

Shalnark Ryusei

You and Shalnark had been planning this for a while. A fun couple’s night out with a fancy dinner, movies and cuddling on the couch. You and your partner were finishing up getting dressed as you heard a weird honk from outside.

“Alright princess let’s go!”

“Huh? Wait-” You couldn’t really object since Shal picked you up bridal style and began walking out the door towards a.. limo?

“Shalbaby, you didn’t have to do thiiss.” You chuckled and looked at your blushing boyfriend.

“Of course I did! I’m always off on missions and don’t get to see you too often!! I have to make it up to you somehow!” You heard the driver scoff at your guys’ gushy talk, and in the blink of an eye Shalnark shot a pin in his neck and told him to drive to your first destination, to which he obliged at will.

Once the two of you arrived you had an amazing 3 coursed meal, each dish even better than the last. Chit-chatting the whole time, it felt as though you grew even closer to your boyfriend. Not by being at an amazing restaurant and not by doing amazing things with him, but because you WERE with him. Talking and laughing together, sharing sad and fun memories, every time you were with him you felt that you couldn’t fall for him again, but here you were, head over heels. Shalnark payed for the dinner and you both thanked the waitress. Walking back to the limo you guys sat and talked some more while heading to the best movie theater in town.

Even after the movie, it appeared Shal had some more things in town, and with this you ended up going to an ice cream parlor, arcade, and finally stopping by the troupe’s current hideout to say hi. Heading back home you practically collapsed from all of the fun you two had.

Barley being able to walk back to your guys’ room, you changed into some lazy pajamas and Shal changed into his. As you were pulling down your comfy shirt you felt two muscular arms wrap around your waist and fell onto the bed.

“SHALL I WAS CHANGING!!” You both started giggling like children as you flipped yourself over and gave him a kiss on his cheek. You could tell his eyes were wandering though, and soon you realized he was staring at your chest. You grabbed a pillow from behind you and pushed down on his face with it, hearing a startled Shalnark yelp from beneath.

“That’s what you get for being a perv-” *POMPH* He pulled the pillow off of his face and smacked you with it, resulting in a full blown pillow fight with you two passing out on the couch.

Phinks Magcub

You were feeling like a bit of a tease today so you decided to dress in some rather revealing clothes. A skirt shorter than the average, some thigh highs and a crop top, all to get a reaction out of your boyfriend.

Phinks was sitting in the living room snacking and watching some tv as he thought you were still asleep. It was about 10 in the morning so you decided to waltz into the kitchen and make breakfast.

“Hey bab... babe?” He couldn’t finish his sentence as his eyes looked you up and down. Drool was practically falling out of his mouth but you pretended to not notice, still making breakfast.

“Morning baby! How’d you sleep?” Phinks shook his head back into reality.

“G- good, you?”

“I slept pretty well, thanks for asking.” Swinging your hips while plating the food almost pushed Phinks over the edge as his face now looked as red as a tomato.

“Is it feeling a bit warm to you? I’m going to go turn on the AC heh..” You ran in front of your boyfriend and jumped onto him like a koala. At this rate he might as well be a cartoon character because he was fuming. He didn’t have the strength to speak out any words, and all you did was laugh.

“I know you were staring at me earlier~”

“H- HUhH? What would make you think that? I was just watching tv!”

“Then why are your hands on my ass right now?”

Phinks flat out passed out, right there, onto the floor.

#Feitan #Feitan Portor #Feitan hxh #Feitan x Reader #Shalnark #Shalnark Ryusei #Shalnark hxh #Shalnark x reader #Phinks #Phinks Magcub #Phinks hxh #Phinks x Reader

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b0rista · 3 years

Text

— 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄, 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍, & 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐃. ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: language, because i can't form sentences without using "fuck" every other word JDJD.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i only made this modern because i desperately wanted to include marco to the fullest leave me aloneEffsg. gn! reader, and i went pretty lengthy on this one so beneath the cut is where the headcanons start :)

𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓: bearbrickjia on instagram!

by far, the best friend group to have. everyone balances one another out, and it's a perfectly imperfect mesh of teenagers.

there's jean, the group's centerpiece. he's the alpha of the posse, usually working as their own personal line leader whenever they're caught doing something as a group. he'll never admit it, but he's also the dad friend. of course, he's more of a "i wish i never gave birth to you oh my god please leave me alone also i love you" type than the stereotypical dad friend.

there's marco, the glue holding the group together. unsurprisingly, he's the calm, kindhearted support system that balances out the cokeheads, keeping them all sturdy. without a doubt, the group would fall apart without him. they need him, okay!! and by "them," i mean jean and yourself. marco, never change.

following up, there's connie & sasha, the wonder twins. their roles are pretty self explanatory, given their natural rambunctiousness. they're the two that hang out outside of the group the most, for obvious reasons. they're the crackhead siblings that bring life to the group, despite the hot water they typically land the others in. through their antics and their comic relief, they're irreplaceable. still, it's easy to want to strangle them sometimes.

next, there's you! because you're the reader, i won't name any specifics, but you're greatly cherished. you mark your place in the crew through various ways, having a unique relationship with each and every member. when he's in need of a breather outside of his typical nest (AKA marco), jean hits your line. if you're needing any kind of assistance with literally anything ever, marco's there to help. craving some chaos? bitch, connie & sasha have GOT YOU.

the main hangout spot is jean's house, 100%. not only has his mom practically adopted the whole squad, but there's only two people living there, so it isn't crowded. connie banned literally all four of you from his place, lmao. there was too many people there, and his family lives to humiliate him.

the group has this one policy, set down by yourself and jean: four piece maximum. this is directed solely towards sasha, of course, considering her tendency to raid her friends' fridges entirely of any food. if she's ever caught rummaging through a fridge for longer than necessary, it's the home owner's duty to shout, "four piece minimum!"

^ it never fails to startle her 😭. one time, she hit her head so hard on the fridge ceiling at jean's house she had to use a bag of frozen peas to soothe the swelling.

then, she proceeded to eat the thawed out peas. jean gagged.

the inside jokes? endless. all it takes is one word from a single event, and the five of you are losing your shit. it's cute, to be honest, how overzealous you all get from a single instance from months ago.

"ha. heh. hee."

"what is it?"

"ngGhh,, chEDDAR TIDDIES-"

"AHHHHHAGAGSHHDJF-"

if there are any inside jokes formed between two group members that isn't shared with the rest of them, there will be immediate bitterness. one time, you and sasha were giggling to yourselves over some druggie named jerry who'd tried selling baskets of rotten cherries to the two of you during a gas station haul— the boys were not having it. what the fuck were you doing without them, "friends"?

right before starting your guys' senior year of highschool, the five of you were on a group facetime when you all sent your schedules into group chat. due to the scarceness of your soon-to-be-majors, absolutely none of you had any classes together. you had a single lunch period with connie while marco had one with jean, but that was about it. it was,, a dramatic discovery. sasha fucking screamed.

"i have nothing with nobody!"

"calm down, sash-"

"you have lunch with y/n! LUNCH! that's my place, lunch. this is despicable, this is evil, this is a braus hate crime-"

yeah, she didn't take it that well. it's okay, doe. the four of you made a special effort during your passing periods, giving sasha enough of a fix for her to make it through each and every day.

it isn't like the five of you don't hang out outside of the classroom, either!! if you hadn't already made plans during that week, the weekend is where you absolutely thrive as a group. study sessions that always shift into exclusive house parties, lunches spent at your favorite places, the occasional visit to the movie theater, and so on. with a mini crowd like that, it's hard for any of you to get bored.

jean's hopeless crush on mikasa is a big factor in your friendship. when everyone minus marco (because he's an angel) isn't mercilessly teasing him, you're all trying to actually help the fucker score the girl. from talking him up obnoxiously enough whereas she'll hear, or flat out telling her to give him a chance, it's an actual effort. though, it's unfortunately all to no avail. shawty's too smitten with eren to even consider her options.

^ with that being said, the four of you have to give jean the "there are other fish in the sea" scoop more often than you'd like to admit.

group cuddles. that's that.

because he's the tallest and therfore the longest (probably, depending on your height), everybody has a chosen body part of jean's to latch onto during naps. connie has one leg while you have the other, and sasha keeps her head rested on his shoulder. marco's at the very bottom, entangling his legs in your own. somehow, this is heaven for jean. he'll never admit to it, though. as far as any of you are concerned, he HATES IT.

ranking from #1 as the best and #5 as the worst, these are the rated group therapists: ⇩︎

#1: marco. self explanatory, he's an amazing listener and provides supremely good advice. that, and he'd literally rather die than let any of his friends internalize anything they're dying to let loose.

#2: you. really, you're just a lot better than jean or connie. sasha's okay at it, but she's not the best at rationalizing, leaving you at second best. basically, when marco isn't available, you're where the freak shows go. marco goes to you about things, too.

#3: sasha. again, she's just a loT better than the final two. sasha's a sweetheart! she's empathetic, and nonjudgmental. we love her in this house.

#4: connie. also somewhat of a sweetheart, although not as much as sasha. he'll drop a shit ton of humor into serious conversations, making them just a tad bit more tolerable.

#5: jean. look, he's a great friend! however, he isn't all that empathetic, and he'll have some trouble understanding. still, he would try his hardest to make you or the other three feel better :,)).

in a modern universe, i know damn well connie's a half-assed stoner 30% of the time. he doesn't light up all that often, and he doesn't tell anybody about it, even you guys. mainly because marco will grill him for it DJFK. however, you stumbled upon his mini marijuana stash and he was like ahh, shit. you didn't really care doe, his secret is safe with you. you, however, now have DIRT on him.

matching bracelets that you all made for eachother yEars ago but never wear 🥺🥺.

many, many, many poly relationship jokes. only jokes, though. some people take it too literally, which y'all just laugh at.

there's a miniature rivalry going on between you and another nearby friend group: reiner, bertholdt, annie, ymir, and christa. of course, all of you are friends, it's all fun in games— most of the time, anyway. it's a funny rivalry, and you guys go at it quite a bit.

one of your guys' most intense debates is whether or not marco has freckles on his dick.

he,, refuses to show any of you, or even anSweR you.

"you act like we can't just check whenever we use the urinals, man."

"CONNIE-"

now, marco refuses to go to the bathroom at the same time as any of the boys <\33.

the group band? black eyed peas.

#aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #attack on titan headcanons #aot scenario #aot headcanons #jean kirschtien #marco bodt #connie springer #sasha braus #snk #shingeki no kyojin #snk headcanons #snk x reader #jean kirstein #sasha blouse

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ddaengyoonmin · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Single dad / childhood best friend!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: !!ANGST!!, smut.

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings:(issa dark oneee) Mentions of abuse, abusive parent, underage drinking and drug use, Jungkook is an ass, lots of descriptions of smoke and cigarettes in an unhealthy way. Mentions of vomiting. Toxic behaviors in general; Rough play; handjob; edging; Sub!Jungkook; Dom!Reader; choking; biting; overstimulation; slight mentions of blood; just all around physical and emotional pain definitely not #goals.

a/n: definitely cried a bit writing this. This story ended up becoming super important to me and something I think I’ve been holding in for a while. A lot of this story is based on my own life and personal experiences, which is why the first part is a highschool backstory. Absolutely nothing sexual happens until they are both adults, the first part of the story was just a necessary cathartic therapy moment for me to get out :_)

(Also I tried to make this a gender neutral insert, but this is my first time doing that so kindly let me know if there's anything I can do to improve on that!)

Song inspiration: Kathleen- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Rango- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Anything-Catfish and the Bottlemen

--------

He was completely insane. It never made you like him any less though.

When you’d first heard Jungkook was back in town you had so many different emotions running through you, you thought you’d faint at the feeling.

------

When you were still in highschool, he had been your closest friend. You spent practically every day after school with Jungkook, smoking in your car, driving around through cemeteries laughing about something funny one of your teachers had said, or the security guard who’d tried to chase you down the halls for skipping 2nd hour earlier in the day. There never seemed to be a dull moment when he was around.

When you’d first met him, insane and reckless were never words that would’ve come into your mind.

He was a grade younger than you and had seemed to fly mostly under your radar through all your highschool years. It wasn’t until the second half of your Junior year that you'd even noticed he existed.

You’d shown up to the first day of track practice the way you always had, scanning over the new freshman on the team. You’d mistaken him for a freshman and greeted him as such. He nervously and shyly corrected you that he was actually a Sophomore just searching around for something new to try out.

About half way through the practice you noticed a group of your teammates had swarmed around Jungkook and he looked to be almost in tears as he cowered under their words and faces, looking up at them all.

He was a small child, not very muscular and extremely geeky looking. You found it endearing though, and found the classmates picking on him infuriating.

You stormed across the track over to where they stood demanding to know their problem, they all were also a grade younger than you and seemed to be intimidated by you. How could they not be with the star of the track team chewing them out like they were being condemned to hell.

After they left, two big saucer eyes stared up at you, tears still slightly pooled up in his lower lid, he wiped them off with the back of his hand.

“Thank you.” He sniffled. He explained that everyone in his grade always picked on him like that. He didn’t really have any friends, and everyone seemed to think of him as the weird kid.

After that day the two of you were inseparable.

You went to the city fair together on the last day of school that year, and that was the first time it happened.

You were supposed to be at a school sanctioned celebration, you’d told your mom that's where you’d be.

But here you were sitting in your car with Jungkook before going to the fair, the two of you giggling as he messily tried to roll a joint, swearing that his older brother had taught him how.

You felt yourself bleeding guilt for lying to your parents. But, how could anything that sweet Jungkook convinced you to do be bad?

Stoned out of your mind the two of you ran hand in hand around the fair, giggling and riding your favorite rides too many times. That was the first time you realized, he was truly your best friend.

That summer had you pulling a 180 on everything you’d ever thought you were capable of.

Before you knew it, you were sneaking out of your house multiple times a week to drive around with Jungkook and smoke, listening to music and feeling free.

———

It was now the middle of summer. You were sitting in your car while Jungkook was filling up gas for you.

Two girls and a man approached Jungkook and started chatting. You found that odd, but then again, Jungkook had a habit of getting into conversations with strangers everywhere you went.

You never really noticed it til then, but at some point, he had really changed from the boy you met. He was more outgoing, he was dressing better…

A tap on your window surprised you.

“Hey y/n! These guys are throwing a party at their place, let's just park your car here and go! They said just hop in!”

You felt your jaw drop a bit as you opened your mouth to protest. But he was staring back at you so excited, so hopeful that you’ll join him. You agreed, against all better judgement and that sick feeling in your stomach that you shouldn’t be getting into a car with strangers.

Jungkook whispered in your ear as the two of you walked to your car. “I told them we were 22” He chuckled. Your heart dropped a bit, more sick feelings coming on.

“Okay.” You managed to nod and agree somehow. Jungkook excitedly opened the door to their backseat, as if he did this kind of thing all the time.

You were both lucky, the strangers were not murderers, though there was no party, just them and some beer and a hookah in a messy apartment living room.

None of it felt right, it didn’t really feel like a fun time. Jungkook though seemed to think he was at the party of the century. He chugged the beer they gave him in no time and was up messing with their stereo trying to get on some “PARTY MUSIC” he screamed out.

In no time at all that firecracker of a boy was wasted and trying to dance up on their table.

It wasn’t long before the apartment owners realized their mistake, this child was completely off the rails drunk. One of them tried to bring him down from the table and he somehow managed to kick their glass hookah entirely across the room.

There was a still silence as you all looked at the shattered glass on the ground. You had your hand clasped over your mouth looking from the glass to Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyes were wide at you, the smile that grew on his face seemed ill fitting for the moment, as the apartment owners were obviously furious.

“Run!” Jungkook screamed out in a laugh, rushing over to you and grabbing you tightly by your wrist and pulling you out the front door.

Then the two of you ran, you just kept running down the street till your lungs gave out and you collapsed on the ground on a grassy patch in front of a gas station.

Jungkook’s chest was heaving but he still managed a loud laugh, his eyes crinkling as he held his stomach, rolling over onto his side.

“Jungkook. That was insane…” You gasped out.

“That was fun.” he chuckled, seeming to be unphased by it all with a casual smile, rolling back onto his back and staring up at the sky.

And that was the moment you realized how crazy he was.

After that, things like this were common with Jungkook. You were his protector at school and his partner in mischief and crime.

The two of you ended up both quitting track together, against your parent’s scolding and the coaches yelling about losing one of their star runners.

You knew you wouldn’t be a star that year though, with all the smoking you’d been doing and you’d skipped out completely on practicing throughout the summer. It just seemed pointless. And you wanted more time with Jungkook before you had to leave…

———

You found yourself getting in increasingly more dangerous situations. He’d have you take him to parties at nearby university dorms, he refused to learn to drive, part of you felt like it was just because he liked you driving him around.

He always lied about his age, that never sat right with you.

Sometimes you found yourself gripping both hands on a beer bottle so tightly you thought your fingers might snap while he was getting talked to by every person that walked by. People loved him at first glance every time you went out together. But they didn’t know him.

They didn’t get to see his real chaos, they never learned the lies he told them, they’d never be able to understand him. Not like you thought you knew him.

You knew things weren’t good at home for Jungkook. He had an older brother he was close with named Jin, and a young sister named Jill, both very lovely, but his dad was a real piece of work. In the whole time you’d been friends with Jungkook you’d only been to his house twice, he avoided ever taking you there if he could.

You found out why when one of the times Jungkook had thought it’d be safe to bring you over for a moment, his dad got home from work early.

“What’s this shit.” His dad had grumbled at Jungkook, pointing to the light eyeliner he had around his eyes. Jungkook had recently started to wear makeup, he did a good job of making it look natural, but today he’d gone a little heavy on the eyeliner.

“Nothing.” Jungkook muttered, turning his back to his dad.

Apparently that was the wrong move, and all you could do was stand there, frozen.

Jungkook and you have never talked about that day. But it was traumatic for you both. You held him close that night as he cried in your arms, sitting in the parking lot of your favorite park to smoke in.

His eye now even more black than it had been with just the eyeliner, which was now smudged across his face due to his tears.

You vowed to never let anyone hurt him ever again. No matter what.

---------

Months later Jungkook was taking pictures of you, for your senior pictures. Talking about how you’d be gone next year but you’d still stay in touch. Graduation was hanging over you like a dark cloud. You didn’t want things to change between you and Jungkook.

As much trouble as you’d gotten in, as much as your grades had dropped this year, as much as your parents gave him judgemental looks any time he was around, you loved him so much.

---------

It was the last month of school.

He was gone.

Somehow his father had managed to get your phone number and you were hearing an entire vocabulary of cuss words.

“I know you’re hiding him from me. Where the fuck is he?’ the man growled on the other end of the phone.

You wish you knew.

But he just didn’t show up to school that day.

He didn’t text you like he always did to say that he was ready to be picked up.

No voicemail.

Not a word.

And now even his dad was calling you. The worry that you felt had you not paying attention to one word of your classes all day.

And the next day.

And the rest of the week.

Until next monday. He was just...there.

“What the fuck Jungkook!” You punched him in the shoulder. He looked like a mess, his hair hadn’t been cut or washed in a while, and he looked like he was wearing the remnants of makeup from a few days ago.

He chuckled “I decided to just hop a train out of town for a while” He shrugged “fuck it.”

“And you couldn’t tell your best friend where you went? Do you realize I thought you were dead?” You snapped at him.

He shrugged again. “It's fine. It was fun!” He smiled a giant toothy grin.

Your blood was boiling. How could he not even say sorry? How could he act like this didn’t affect you at all. It was infuriating.

You didn’t talk to him for a week.

------

You made up with Jungkook, but things never went back to normal. You were always waiting for him to just up and leave again. To just abandon you and act like nothing is even the matter…

You’d graduated and it was summer, you thought like last summer you’d be hanging out together most every day.

But, he stopped asking.

When you did hang out with him, he’d continuously mention this new group of friends he’d found in the town he ended up in on his little adventure. You’d think they were celebrities the way he gushed about them.

There was a girl of course, she was ‘the most beautiful mess he’d ever seen’. You found yourself holding back a sob at those words, because you knew exactly what he meant. Because it was the same as what you saw when you looked at him.

He was increasingly spending more time with his new friends than you, and school would be starting for you soon...maybe it was a good thing. He was still in highschool and you were becoming an adult, he needed friends in his grade.

That didn’t make it hurt less though.

Only about a month into summer, with a simple text Jungkook invited himself over, asking you to order some pizza and said he’d be staying the night.

In your new apartment you’d gotten to yourself after graduation, Jungkook now smoking with you on your couch, the two of you chuckling about the show you were watching. Nothing seemed wrong at that moment, it all seemed finally back to normal between you two.

And that was the last time you had seen Jungkook for 4 years.

------------

You’d checked your phone what seemed like every minute for the first month he was gone.

Even texting his brother Jin many times and getting no reply.

You waited for him to come back with some wild and crazy story of new trouble he’d gotten himself into. You figured he had to come back, he still had school, and with Jin in college he’d never leave his little sister alone with that monster right?

But as months continued to pass, it was clear he wasn’t coming back. All of his social media platforms had been deleted or you’d been blocked.

There weren’t enough tears in your body for how hard you cried yourself to sleep each night when you realized he really was gone. You felt your body heaving against your mattress with each loud sob. Your head was beginning to throb from the tears and from the stress of knowing you really had lost him.

Not that he was ever yours.

That was something you should’ve realized sooner.

Jungkook would never belong to anyone or any place.

You chuckled at a memory of skipping class, sitting in your car in the school parking lot, his wild eyed smiling expression when he’d pass you back your cigarette completely smoked to the end.

“How!?” You’d smack his shoulder with a laugh. “It was only half smoked and I handed it to you for a hit!!! How is it gone!”

He’d wink, laugh and lean back in his seat. “Just trying to die quicker.”

------------

You’d graduated from your university this year. Life had pretty much gone according to plan for you that way, you had to retake one class which really wasn’t bad considering how much you’d fallen off at the end of highschool.

You were finishing up your shift at the chain restaurant you’d been working at the past year. As you were clearing off dishes sighing over another table stiffing you on a tip, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Quickly you took the dishes into the kitchen to the dishwasher and went to the bathroom to check your phone.

It was a text from a former classmate you’d hung out with a few times. You and Jungkook would smoke with him occasionally, though Jungkook seemed closer to him than you. It didn’t surprise you, Jungkook made friends so easily when they weren’t in his own grade.

Jungkook…

What was surprising was that it’d actually been a bit since you’d thought about Jungkook in a way that made your heart ache this way. It’d been years, he was nothing more than a story you’d tell to new friends. That wild child that you hung around with in highschool, the one who got you into so much trouble. People’s eyes would widen at some of the stories you’d told (If only they knew the ones you didn’t dare repeat)

“You could’ve died!” They’d say.

Or “He seems like he was just a toxic friend.”

Some even would ask you if you think maybe he could’ve been a sociopath.

You'd laugh and say it was probably true. As much as you had hung out with Jungkook, you never quite felt like that love you held for him as your friend was ever returned.

The older you got and the more you looked back on it, Jungkook never did anything but use you.

You drove him everywhere, you bought him dinners, you bought the cigarettes and weed, you defended him from his classmates( even though you’d seen him stab a man with a pen at a party once, over simply interrupting him.)

And what did Jungkook give to you?

Chaos. Trouble. Pain. Hurt…

You closed your eyes and gulped. You want him out of your head. But when you open your eyes and stare back down to the text on your phone, that wish is impossible.

‘Jungkook is back’ It read.

A chill spread across your entire body and your phone clattered to the floor. You didn’t even think about the cracked screen you’d likely caused. Your mind was stuck on one word, one name.

Jungkook.

Jungkook…

You actually felt sick, luckily you were already in the bathroom, rushing into one of the stalls you emptied your stomach, tears forming in your eyes you collapsed with your back to the cold painted cement of the bathroom wall.

He's back.

What does that even mean?

While Jungkook had been a geeky little kid in his classmates eyes for most of his life, his reputation had started to get around. When he went missing he was the talk of the town. Everyone seemed to have their own theory.

“I heard he ran off with a meth dealer.” … “No, I heard he’s in florida fighting alligators.” …. “That's bullshit he's obviously finally gotten himself in juvi!” they’d all speculated.

The worst part of hearing all of that, was that you could only speculate too.

He’s back…

A second text came in. You gulped and looked down to see a link to an instagram page kookymonster69. Of course it was that, you chuckled.

You clicked the link and it sent you over to his page. There were only three pictures posted, he really had just come back...you’d thought maybe he’d just blocked you so somehow this was a relief.

The first photo was a selfie, and WOW. He did not look like the small lanky boy that you had been friends with.

He was wearing a loose fitting tank top that showed off his massive biceps and the tattoos that covered his arms and hands. His hair was still jet black but he seemed to have learned how to perfectly style it, and his eyeliner was more on point than it's ever been.

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath. Your heart beat fast right before it sank at the second picture.

It was him with a child that looked to be around 3 years old, the caption reading ‘My lil mini me’.

Oh…

Your mind flashed back to the girl he’d always talked about, the time he’d been spending with his new friends instead of you.

Of course.

Of course that's where he went.

But why couldn’t he tell you? Why would he think you wouldn’t want to be involved in his kids life?

You cursed again under your breath and without thinking you pressed the follow button.

“I-” You gasped. You really hadn’t meant to do that. But, maybe it's good he knows that you know he's back…

--------

Two days later you got a notification. Kookymonster69 is following you on instagram.

Within minutes a dm was popping up on your screen.

“Long time no talk huh?” it read.

You wanted to throw your phone against the wall. Though that would be the second act of unwarranted phone violence because of this little shit. So you held back. Theres only so much in your life he’s allowed to fuck up.

How could he think that was what you wanted to hear after all this time. No different than when he’d hopped a train out of town and came back like nothing was out of the ordinary.

No apology. No “You must’ve been so worried”

You started to type out a message telling him off. Asking him what the fuck was wrong with him, just dissapearing and coming back into your life like this.

You maxed out the word count on your text and re read it back over. Sighing, you deleted every word and sent a simple.

“Yeah...it really has been a while. How are you?”

Damnit. You groaned and tossed yourself onto your side on your couch.

He replied almost instantly.

“Better lately...I have a son.”

“I saw, he looks a lot like you. I always knew if you had a kid they’d look just like you lol called it” you felt a smile grow on your face, despite every bone in your body reminding you of who he was, and what he’s done...here you were letting your cheeks catch fire once again at his words.

“He does. lol he’s so much smarter than me though already.”

“I don’t doubt that ;) “

It was about ten minutes and he hadn’t replied. You knew ten minutes wasn’t a long time, nothing compared to four years. Yet somehow those ten minutes were the longest moments you’d ever experienced.

“I wanna see you again.” the words read on your phone. You felt your stomach tie itself up into a tight knot.

Bad idea. Bad idea. You should have never even replied.

Why were you digging up the past?

You quickly turned your phone over and groaned.

Letting him back in would likely only bring you more pain. Why the hell were you actually considering it.

This time it was your turn to wait a while before replying. You were weighing pro’s and con’s lists in your brain and though the con’s list kept growing, the Pro list’s first and only item seemed to top it all. ‘Its Jungkook.’

---------

So here you were. Waiting in your car outside of the address he’d texted you to pick him up at. You were parked outside of a cheap looking apartment building only about five minutes from where you lived. You wondered how long he’d been here...this close to you without you knowing.

You sucked in a deep breath when you saw him walk out the front door. He was wearing an oversized grey baggy t-shirt and tight black skinny jeans ripped at the knee where you could see the start of a tattoo peeking out. He had on silver chains and his hands were covered in rings, he looked like some kind of goth model.

You rolled the window down and called over to him.

“Not sure if you remember my car.” You spoke lightheartedly trying to offset the nervous feeling, and another feeling you were still trying to sort out.

He belly laughed and smoothly opened your passenger door and hopped in.

“How could I forget!” his dark eyes were wide and excited as always, his charming smile you’d once been so used to now making your brain practically glitch out. “I can’t believe you still have it.”

You shyly shook your head. “Broke college student” You chuckled. “So what are we doing? You said you just wanted to chill…”

Jungkook smiled and relaxed back into your seat, like he’d done a million times, so naturally. Though he didn’t look like the same small boy you once knew.

“Yeah, like old times.” He winked and pulled out a small baggie of weed.

You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“C’mon don’t tell me you quit.” He teased.

“Of course I didn’t.” You chuckled.

“Good y/n.” He smiled cutely, booping your nose with one finger, and you felt your heart stop.

Your face must’ve fallen or had some sort of expression to let him know he’d affected you, because he immediately punched your shoulder as if to snap you out of your thought.

“Give me a cigarette then and let's go.” He demanded joyfully, banging on the dash of your car and giving you an “onward” motion with his arm for you to start driving.

You drove around for about an hour, smoking cigarettes and passing a joint back and forth.

He didn’t talk much about himself or what he’d been up to and he also didn’t ask much about you either. When you’d bring up questions you got short replies that didn’t seem very satisfying.

“So are you still with your kids mom?” You asked him as he was passing you an almost fully smoked joint.

“Hell no!” he coughed out smoke with his words. “Evil.” he muttered and shook his head.

“Evil?”

“Yup.” he nodded, grabbing another cigarette from your pack without asking. Just as he always used to. What's yours was always his back then, but right now his casual way of falling back into old routines was hurting, you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You pulled into the parking lot of you and Jungkook’s favorite park you’d hangout at. You pressed the brakes suddenly and aggressively bringing the car to a half.

“Woaah.” Jungkook giggled as he let out a tiny puff of smoke.

“You left.” You felt yourself about to explode. Trying to hold it in was becoming impossible.

“You just LEFT.” You yelled the last word, startling him and making him cower back against the window.

“Y/n…” His eyes widened as he gave you his best puppy dog face, this was the first time you’d probably ever really yelled at him. He’d been scolded plenty of times, but you were always soft on your Jungkook. He didn’t deserve that though, you might not have been dating, but he’d broken your heart and you deserved an explanation.

“Why didn’t you tell me? How could you just leave me without a word?” You felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

It was silent in your car for a while.

Jungkook brought the last hit of his cigarette to his mouth shakily.

“No.” He shook his head, doing something that always gave you the chills. The way he could turn his cutesy eyes into stone cold daggers in an instant used to make your heart drop into your stomach. Though right now you were a bit too worked up to feel anything but anger at him.

“No?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t need to tell you shit.” He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Right.” You huffed, sinking into your seat. “Why would you. Why would you tell your best friend what's going on in your life right?” you snapped and realized the words building inside had reached your tongue faster than your brain could tell you to stop.

“Though I guess maybe we never really were best friends? Maybe I just thought that because you hung around me so much. But you never actually gave a shit about me did you?”

Jungkook’s eyes were widening and he was cowering further away from you.

“I would’ve done anything for you Jungkook, you know that? Died for you, killed for you. Do you realize how many times I took the fall and got in trouble for things you did? And you just…let me. You always just let me get hurt for you, let me ruin myself for you. And you never cared. And then you just...left.”

Your last words came out as a choked up whisper.

Jungkook was staring at the cigarette in his hand that had gone out, twirling it between his tattoo’d fingers and pursing his lips together tightly.

“Why’d you keep hanging around me then if you hated it so much.” He grumbled, seeming genuinely hurt by your words.

You sighed. Hating that now you felt the need to comfort *him*. You shook your head. No. He doesnt get to get away with that.

“I guess I don’t know.” You muttered glaring at him.

His eyes met yours for a moment but on seeing your anger they quickly flitted away.

“You seemed helpless.” You answered after a moment. “That's why. I thought you needed me. I thought I was helping you by being there for you. I didn’t realize you were destroying me.”

At that Jungkook’s gaze was serious and direct at you.

“Destroying you?”

“Nevermind. This was just a mistake.” You murmured starting to put your car into reverse to leave. A large tattoo’d hand pressed onto yours stopping you.

“Hey.” He spoke seriously.

You stopped and looked over at him, already visibly exhausted from this conversation.

“Just…” He grabbed another cigarette from your pack and lit it, sucking in a large hit. “I missed you, trust me.” he grumbled.

“Oh wow, well at least you missed me the four years you chose to not talk to me.” You hissed out slightly getting in his face, making him flinch back.

“I’m not gonna say sorry.” He whispered, his doe eyes staring at you intensely, his eyes flicking back and forth between your eyes and what seemed to be your lips.

Of course he’s not. Of course he does know that's what you want. You had an urge to grab his face in your hands and just shake some sense into him and scream ‘Why can’t you just have some normal human emotions you complete sociopath.’

Instead your body’s next choice of action was one that neither of you were expecting.

As if your lips were magnets, yours fell onto his quickly and perfectly, snapping the two of you in place together.

You pulled back with a gasp, holding your lower lip between your thumb and index finger, feeling mortified at yourself.

Jungkook on the other hand had a smirk slowly growing on his face, his eyes mischievous, likely knowing this was his “in” back to your good side.

The fact that you knew that's probably what he was thinking should’ve been enough to have you stop right there. But the way his eyes were now scanning you up and down in admiration was too intoxicating, too addicting, you’d missed him too much.

“Do your seats still fold all the way down.” He pointed to your backseat with a chuckle.

You smacked his shoulder. “And why would that matter to you.” You teased, almost completely forgetting how angry you’d just been with him. Damnit, how did he do that.

He shrugged with a knowing laugh, his eyes crinkling up cutely, bringing his still lit cigarette to his lips.

“You wanna get even?” He glanced at the back seat again.

“Get even?”

“Yeah.” He winked “You seem like you’ve got a lot of pent up steam at me there. I'm just suggesting some sanctioned punishment-” the corners of his lips curled up mischievously at the word. ”-so maybe you’ll feel a bit less upset at me.”

Bad idea. Bad idea. Those words were playing on a loop in your brain.

Trying to remind you of every bit of hurt and pain he’d caused you, and how if you slept with him, you knew that pain would only hurt worse the next time.

Jungkook was already getting out of the car and putting the seats of your station wagon down flat into a makeshift bed.

You had your fingers clenched tightly around your steering wheel, knuckles turning white. This is Jungkook, not just a one night stand, not a new fling. This is *Jungkook*. You knew there was a higher chance than not that you’d be filled with regret after this.

But there he was now laying out in the back seat of your car, staring at you with a cute and enticing look. “y/n.” He spoke sweetly. “You can come punish me now” He winked.

You couldn’t deny to yourself how much you wanted him.

You took one more deep breath in and without taking another thought to it you rushed into the back seat with him.

He was laying on his side with his head propped up on his hand.

“Took you long enough.” he teased.

Before he could say anything else you were on top of him, pushing him onto his back and pressing him to the seat with one hand and putting another one over his mouth.

“You’re definitely going to have to shut up.” You growled.

His eyes lit up at the fire you’d shown him. He’d never seen you like this before, his sweet y/n that always looked after him, looked out for him, picked him up every time he needed it.

He knew he fucked up. But life itself was fucked up, nothing in life is fair and no one gets what they truly deserve. Jungkook especially. So why would he owe anyone an apology?

This was the best he could give to you.

He nodded, agreeing to be quiet for you.

You slowly let your hand fall from his mouth and replaced it with your lips, melting into him, you were kissing him like you’d been starved for it. Your fingers started to tangle in his hair, messing it up and tugging slightly.

Jungkook's hand reached around your waist, pulling you against him, moving down to your hips and trying to get you to grind against him.

You quickly reached down and grabbed his wrist, pinning it above his head and shaking your head slightly as you gave him a few more pecks.

“Don’t get greedy. You can’t be patient after all this time?” You scolded.

He stuck out his lower lip in a pout, taking in the sight of you straddling him, looking down at him with a mix of emotions still flowing through you.

You went back to kissing him, pinning his other hand above his head and after a bit, rewarding him by pressing your core down onto his and giving him the friction he’d wanted.

He let out a soft and needy whimper as you did.

You felt butterflies filling your stomach at his noise. It was so gentle and sweet, and to know that you were the one making Jungkook feel this way was a sense of pride you’d never felt before.

You stacked his wrists one on top of the other and held them in one hand, your other hand now slipping between where your bodies met and palming him over his jeans.

He hissed out a sharp breath and a small “fuck” fell from his lips involuntarily.

“Does that feel good baby?” You teased him pulling back from your kisses and studying his face, knowing the answer was obvious.

He bit down on his lower lip and his eyes were clenched tightly as he nodded.

Your fingers fumbled slightly but didn’t take you too long to undo his jeans and slip your hand inside, now running your hand slowly along his length over his boxers. His hips lifted slightly off of the seat, pressing up against your hand desperately wanting more.

At that you gave him a slight squeeze, causing him to yelp out. His eyes were wide staring up at you.

“I said don’t get greedy. Remember, this is supposed to be for me.” You chuckled at his disappointed face. “You’ve always been so fucking selfish and greedy.” You gently kissed his lips, before roughly taking his lower one between your teeth and biting harshly.

“Fuck.” he hissed, a small drop of blood now forming where you’d nipped at him, but he only seemed more hungry for you now.

You tugged on the hem of his pants and boxers. “Off now.” You demanded.

He wasted no time after you released his wrists, he tugged down his clothes, pulling up his shirt slightly and letting his length fall against his toned lower abs.

He was so beautiful, smiling up at you with a playful look. It was an absolute joke for you to think you were actually in charge here. You were wrapped around his finger and you always had been.

He looked absolutely mouthwatering. But you didn’t want to let it get to his head. This was supposed to be payback.

You went back to kissing him, that way you didn’t have to look at him, that way you didn’t risk saying the words that you shouldn’t...

With a free hand you took his length into your hand, letting the weight of him sit in your palm for a moment before slowly tickling your fingers up and down. He twitched under your touch and his kisses faltered as he let out a small gasp.

“y/n no more teasing.” He moaned out.

“I thought I said shut up.” Your hand was back over his mouth, but you decided to indulge him for a moment, pumping your hand up and down his length a few times. You could feel his moans vibrate against the palm of your hand still clamped down on his lips.

You let him go and slowly moved yourself down so that his cock was positioned right in front of your face. Letting your tongue lay flat against the base with pressure you licked a long stripe up his cock. When you got to the tip you flicked your tongue a few times right under his head. His hips reflexively moved up at that, begging you to take him fully in your mouth.

Instead you “tsk’d” at him a few times, loosely holding his cock in your hand and not moving.

“It's no fun just sitting there waiting is it?” You asked. “How do you think I felt waiting for you for years.” You lightly slapped the tip of his cock with your hand not holding it.

“AH!” He yelled out “Hey!” he strained his neck to be able to give you a shocked expression.

“Too far?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

He thought for a moment, then shook his head, laying back down. “No. No it's not that I don’t like it.” He chuckled. “Just...it's you. I never thought you’d be like this in bed.”

You were suddenly moving up to face him, your hand grabbing the sides of his neck tightly. “You don’t know me anymore.” You growled. “You made sure of that by cutting me out of your life for four fucking years.” your grip on his neck tightened slightly before you released him.

He gasped in a deep breath when you pulled away, looking up at you in awe.

You moved your hand back between his legs now pumping quickly, twisting over his head when you’d get to it. You ate up every moan that you pulled from his lips, they were yours, you’d caused every single one and they were yours to keep forever.

Right before it looked like he was going to cum, you pulled your hand away, leaving his cock untouched and throbbing.

“No..” He whimpered, “Please please.” His needy whines were so cute.

“But why should you get to cum?” You teased him.

He pouted dramatically. “Y/n…” He spoke sweetly “Cuz you love me. Make me cum because you love me.” He smiled a wide and precious smile.

Fuck.

Your mouth hung open at his words. Of course he knew you loved him.

All the easier to use you.

Because that made it all the harder for you to say no to him.

Letting your forehead rest against his, you brought your hand back to his length, letting your fingers drag against his soft skin as you gripped him.

You could see a small smirk on his face, as his breathing became even more unsteady, his moans catching in his throat as he panted heavily.

“Oh my god that feels so fucking good.” He groaned out. “Fuck.” His hands were gripping the back of the front seat that his head was pressed up against, his muscles flexing as he tightened his grip unable to contain how good you were making him feel.

His abs were clenched and his hips were lifting off of the seat for you as he desperately fucked himself into your hand.

“I-I’m cumming.” He gasped out, his eyes met yours as he came, his mouth falling completely open and noises resembling your name were being muttered as his hips jerked and his cock twitched in your hand, spurting ropes of cum onto his stomach.

You didn’t stop moving your hand around him, waiting for him to get so sensitive that he had to pull your arm away, both of you laughing.

You rolled over next to him, turning your head to face his.

He was facing the top of the car, eyes closed and he had a big smile on his face, seeming very satisfied with himself.

“Even?” He finally opened his eyes, turning to you with a bright grin.

You chuckled.

It probably would be asking too much to expect Jungkook to see the flaw in his logic here. Once again, he’d gotten you to give him everything, for nothing in return, and he wanted to call that his apology.

You shook your head at him.

“No. But I do feel a little better.”

He nodded, seeming to somehow take that as a positive.

“You’re good at that.” He sat up, taking his shirt off and using it to wipe off his stomach.

“Thanks…” You muttered. Here it was, the regret setting in. The feelings of ‘what the fuck did I just do’. Even worse was the feeling of knowing now that you had, all he had to do was say the word, and you’d be right back there again.

You exited the backseat of the car quickly, rushing to grab a cigarette from your glove compartment, your fingers shaky as you brought the lighter up to the tip. Flicking it many times but not getting a flame.

“Fuck!” You yelled, chucking the lighter as far as you could, managing to make it over a fence and into the park.

Jungkook had just gotten out of the back seat in time to witness your little display. He didn’t say anything, simply grabbing another lighter from the front seat along with a cigarette for himself and walking it over to you.

You let him light your cigarette and the two of you stood for a minute in silence.

“Does this mean you’re actually back…” You whispered softly, almost not wanting to even ask, not wanting to know if it wasn’t the answer you were hoping to hear.

Maybe Jungkook knew that. Maybe that’s why he didn’t say anything at all.

He never told you he loved you, he didn’t even try and make you feel loved.

Maybe it was good that way, it might make it a bit easier when he leaves again.

Maybe it was better that way, it was kinder than being lied to.

#Jungkook smut #Jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #Jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x gender neutral reader #bts x you #jungkook reader insert #jungkook angst #bts angst #bts imagines #bts x gender neutral reader

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blonde-in-charge · 3 years

Text

Wildcard, Chapter One

** Hello everyone! My name is Kat, and this is the first imagine I have ever posted! I am still really new to the posting process so please stick with me. Anyways, I hope you enjoy **

Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: No Pairings(yet) Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson

Warnings: Tiny bit of cursing, Loss of memory, Mentions of blood/violence, Scars

Words: 3.3k

Waking with a start, you groaned at the action of shifting your legs between the scratchy sheets. Your legs tightened and strained from the previous day, making you unable to move comfortably. Sitting up, you hiss as you strained to throw your legs ofthe side of the bed. It was quiet, for once, in the tower. On any other normal day, you would hear the group you lived with from down the hallway, chatting loudly over breakfast and laughing. You glared over at the angry red numbers projecting themselves into the air.

4:45am

Shit.

Pulling your arms up over your head, you stretched your aching muscles until you heard the satisfying popping noise come from one of your elbows. You pushed yourself off of the bed and sighed as your legs took on the weight of your body. You ached like never before even just standing still. You felt up your nightstand in the dark, knocking over random half drunk water bottles in the attempt to find your glasses. Satisfied when your fingertips took hold of the lenses, uncaring of the fingerprints you knew would bother you later. The door automatically slid open as you walked towards it, slowly and not picking up your feet. One of the perks of living with Tony Stark was that you never had to open a door on your own, the downside was you had the misfortune of walking into non automatic doors on the rare occasion you left the tower.

The halls were silent in the tower, making the shuffling of your feet seem louder than they should have been. As you walked past the doors of your colleagues you could hear soft snoring from one of the rooms and louder snoring from further down the hallway. You smiled to yourself, knowing your friends were getting what you couldn't, sleep. It wasn't like you tried to get less hours of sleep than everyone else, your mind and body have not let you rest since you have joined the team.

-Eight Months Ago-

You sobbed, curling yourself as tightly into a ball as you could, holding your hands to your chest as your hair whipped through the air. You had secluded yourself into the corner of an abandoned gas station in god knows where. You had no idea where you were, how you got there, what was happening, or even who you were. You had woken up on a cold metal table in a concrete room wearing nothing but a sports bra and tight training pants that stopped at your ankles. You don’t remember how but you broke the cuffs holding down your wrists and ankles, leaving bloody gashes in their wake.

Your attention was drawn to the sound of heavy footsteps nearing you as you pushed yourself into the wall, begging to just disappear through it, “Please don’t take me back” you sobbed, hot tears rolling down your face, “I don’t know anything just let me go!”

Uncovering your face you looked up into a man's face. He looked relatively young with his blonde hair but the worry lines he was sporting upon looking at you aged him.

He knelt down in front of you keeping his distance, “Shhh, I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to help you. What's your name, kid?” He studied your face with kind blue eyes, his gaze felt instantly calming.

“I- I don’t- I don’t know,” you stared at him in disbelief, how could you not know your own name? The man looked at you and nodded before looking behind him and speaking so someone you could not see

“Guys, I found a girl about 10 miles out from the compound, she is in pretty rough shape. Have the quinjet meet at my coordinates ASAP,” He spoke softly around you but in a commanding tone until he nodded, apparently getting answers from the voices you could not hear. His eyes trailed back to your eyes, searching you. His eyes then trailed down to your hands clutched at your chest and they filled with worry.

You looked down at your own hands stretching them in front of you, there were deep cuts on either one of your wrist running all the way around until they met in a circle, and they were bleeding profusely onto your exposed stomach. You looked back up at the man, suddenly extremely light headed and you watched his figure fade away into darkness as you passed out.

The coffee maker trickled the dark liquid slowly into the pot, a sound that soothes your nerves every early morning. You wished you could go back to sleep but everyone would be getting up soon anyways, and coffee was calling your name. Whatever that was. The minutes ticked by as the coffee pot filled up and you realized you had stood there unmoving, staring at a whisk while trapped in your own mind. You reached up into the cabinet for your favorite mug and hissed as your muscles protested the sudden movement. You felt the presence of someone behind you as you poured the fragrant liquid into the mug.

“Didn't we have that talk with you about announcing your presence in rooms when you entered, Buck?” You held the mug in both hands and turned around to lean against the countertop.

The brooding soldier stood before you with his resident scowl on his face and long brunette hair sticking up in every direction. Your eyes scanned over the man sporting black tee shirt and sweatpants, the circles under his eyes matching his outfit. He looked as if he slept as well as you did. He studied you for a second, his eyes questioning why you were awake.

You watched him carefully, “Bad dream,” was all you offered to him before he gave a knowing nod before looking away from you, his actions told you he was up for the same reason. He took a seat at the island in the middle of the vast kitchen and rubbed his hands up over his face as you made him a mug of coffee. Bucky took his coffee black, with one sugar, while your coffee had to be the color of your sheets with at least four sugars. Like the bad ass you were. He gripped the mug with his flesh hand, allowing himself to feel the heat of it before he sipped it. You two sat together in a comfortable silence that was familiar with the both of you. Your relationship with Bucky was the strongest of any relationships in the group (besides yours with Steve) despite your lack of communication. Both of you had seen the same hell and understood each other on the deepest level. Bucky never looked at you longer than necessary, even when speaking he kept his head down, he only ever looked at you when you weren't looking, to study you. Everyone in the tower treated him as a time bomb, except for you because you understood the trauma he has experienced. You had been in the tower long before Bucky had joined. The reason you were found was because they were looking for Bucky.

A new set of footsteps caught your attention and pulled you out of your thoughts of the dark soldier. The familiar and heavy footsteps rounded the corner and met your face with a refreshed smile. You gave him a half smile, “Morning Capt.”

Steve smiled at you over his shoulder as he opened the fridge, “Good morning, kid. Good morning, Buck,” He started pulling out different ingredients for the breakfast he was planning on making, but every morning you take over that process because Steve hasn't cooked ever in his life. As he pulled foods out, you pulled out pans and made your way over to the stove

You busied yourself with making scrambled eggs and bacon while letting your mind wander. Your relationship with Steve was strong, you had been inseparable since he brought you to the tower because of the sense of comfort he gave you. Steve had been extremely protective of you when it came to the other team members, he was always worried you would get over-stimulated or someone would cross a line with you. He was the best friend who let you sleep in his bed when you had nightmares but also would hold you down when your line of sanity breaks. That was another thing you and Bucky had in common, everyone was waiting for you to snap. If the power went out in the tower, your room and Bucky’s room would be the only two doors that lock and stay locked. You were also suspicious that Tony’s interface, Friday, sends Steve notifications of when you leave your room at night or if your heart rate elevates unexpectedly, because Steve always was there out of pure chance.

“She's doing that thing again,” The voice snapped you out of your deep thought and you looked up into the face of Sam, “Mornin, Hot Stuff,” He grinned at you, the stupid grin that he did when he referred to you as one of your ever changing nicknames, “How did you sleep?”

You finished plating the mountain of bacon you had made while distracted and ignored the question, “Would you like a cup of coffee, Sammy?” you asked as you turned around to face him and place the food on the island as the rest of the Avengers seemed to file in.

You weren't surprised to see Bucky had already escaped the kitchen quietly, he never sat in one place for too long. Steve had watched you with concerned eyes, which made you realize he caught the part where you ignored Sam’s question. You shrugged to yourself, I can survive on two hours, I’ll be fine. Natasha came and touched your shoulder, “Gym in an hour, resuming our session from yesterday.”

You sighed, you were still so sore from yesterday's training. You could barely sit in a chair without your muscles locking up so how did she expect you to train again? Yesterday consisted of 100 weighted squats, but your weight was Steve Rogers. Nat really liked to make you work on the thing you struggle with the most, your strength. When you first came to the tower, you had broken the bathroom door, actually you didn't break it, when you tried opening it, you basically threw it across the room and broke a lamp. Your current favorite mug is the 12th favorite mug since you have been here and Sam refuses to give you a fist bump because you broke his hand the last time, you cringed at the memory. You made your way to your bedroom and pulled out a sports bra and leggings. Most of the clothes you owned were either Natasha's or free Avengers merchandise. You made your way to the bathroom and removed your glasses to put your contacts in, you wondered if you had always had trouble seeing distances, not that you could remember. You looked at yourself in the mirror, the (y/e/c) eyes staring back at you looked so tired and unfamiliar. You brushed down the wild mane that was your hair and pulled it into a tight braid. You opted to wear a long sleeve tee shirt to cover the nasty scars that littered your body from your rescue, you knew no one cared but you did not need a reminder.

Natasha was ready before the hour was up and you knew it. You always met her early in hopes of ending the session early, but that never happened. The training room was located three floors down from you and it took up the entire floor. Nat was standing in the sparring ring in the center of the room with Tony and Steve.

“Do I have to squat both of you?” the whine was evident in your voice and Steve chuckled

“No, we are going to help you learn to control your powers,” He gave you a slight smile and you could sense the anxiety in his voice

“Which ones?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he looked at Tony

Tony cracked his neck, “The ones we know of, hopefully those are the only ones but you have been known to surprise us,” Tony sounded slightly annoyed, you knew he was not your biggest fan, “but I came prepared.” He slapped the fire extinguisher at his side like a new car

Natasha looked at you sensing your discomfort at the situation, “where do you want to start?”

-Eight Months Ago-

You woke up with a start, one second you were in front of this man and the next in a bright room. You blinked rapidly to adjust your eyes to the light as you sat up to take in your surroundings. You were in a small room of glass that separated you from a larger room that looked like a medical office from the future. You felt your arms and looked down to see deep white set scars that circled both of your wrists. You looked up and made eye contact with the man that saved you before as he made his way to your room and stepped in. He had a soft smile on his face as he glanced at you, “Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the chair at your left you didn't even realize was there. You nodded at him silently and he took his seat while watching you examine your scars, “I hope you got some rest, you have been through a lot the last couple of hours.”

Your head shot up as you looked at him, you opened your mouth to speak and let out a barely audible, “Hours?” You remember the slices in your wrist, they were so deep, how could this heal in hours? You looked at the man for some sort of explanation but he offered none

“My name is Steve, I was the one that found you last night. Do you remember that?” You nodded your head once again, “That's good, do you remember how you got where you were when I found you?”

You were a million miles away trying to remember anything. You remember the room you woke up in, the way you tore yourself off of the table, the blood, and then all you could remember was fire and the howling of the wind in your ears as you ran. As if he read your mind, Steve nodded at you and combed his fingers through his hair. He stood up and left the glass cubicle for a second to speak to a woman outside. The woman then followed him in and started to unhook you from the various monitors around you before she stepped out of the room. Steve looked at you questionably before offering his hand and asking, “Do you think you can walk?” You nodded and slid your legs over the side of the bed and pushed yourself up onto your feet, holding Steve's hand for balance. He watched you take a couple of steps before he was confident you would be okay, “Follow me.”

You huffed out a breath that made the hair hanging in front of your face jump. Your body was screaming at you to let it rest but Natasha’s training was resilient. Tony had resorted to putting on one of his iron suits to protect himself from you. You looked at Nat and she simply nodded, “Again.” You sighed loudly and used all of your might to focus on the suit in front of you. Fire suddenly engulfed your hands and reached up to your elbows as well as your feet up until your knees. Your eyes had turned into flames that flickered out of the socket as you made a fist and punched Tony’s suit in the center of the chest, where his power source was. The lights in the suit flickered out as well as the flames engulfing your body. You looked over at Nat expectantly and she nodded in approval. You huffed out a sigh of exhaustion and doubled over with your hands on your knees. Your vision was spotty from the amount of power you put into the set but Natasha and Tony were relentless. “Stand up, we are moving onto the next set.”

“I’m fucking tired,” You hissed as you stood up straight, “Give me a second.”

Natashas stone look reamined, “You won't have a second if Hydra comes after you again.”

You flinched at the name, Hydra. No one has spoken that word around you since you joined the tower and rightfully so, the name burned through you and you felt your body start to heat with anxiety before Tony cleared his throat, “Look power puff, lets just get the next set finished and you can go back to hating the world after, yeah?” He clapped his hands together and faced you while ignoring Nat’s glare from the corner.

You pushed the hair back from your sweaty forehead, “Fine, which set?” You took your stance across from the suit with your hands out in front of you, ready to wield whatever he asked for.

You could hear the smirk in his voice, “Surprise me.” You shut your eyes to concentrate, then you felt the power creep up your skin from a dark place within you, causing goosebumps to rise. Your eyes opened and locked with the target in front of you. You swirled your hands around watching as frost covered the floor, creeping its way towards Tony before it encapsulated the feet of the suit with thick blocks of ice. The suit itself did not completely freeze over on the outside, you were forcing your abilities inside the suit, trying to force the millionaire out. The suit cracked in some spots and opened as a safety precaution to a worried Tony Stark, who was shivering enough to shake the ring. You barely hear Natashas voice as you watch the ice creep slowly up Tony’s body, his wide eyes staring at you with fear.

“y/n!”

Your name snapped you out of the trance you had been in and you focused on the situation. Tony was almost completely trapped in a frozen block and Natasha’s feet were frozen to the floor of the ring, both of them staring at you with wide eyes. You turned around to face Steve as he stared at you with concern written all over his face. Your words caught in your throat, “I didn't mean- I’m- “ You turned back towards Natasha and Tony and forced the ice to creep back from them. Tony fell out of the suit onto his knees with a gasp, holding his arms and shivering violently.

“Tony, I am so sorry, I don't know what-” Tony held a shaking hand up to you and you looked down at your feet.

“S-save it, k-kid.” He looked at you and leaned back to sit on the ground, “This is what I get for helping train th-the new kid.” He sighed and closed his eyes before laying back against the ground, “No hard feelings, Frozone. Just give me a minute and take the day off.”

You watched him with worried eyes and turned back to Steve, who was mirroring your expression but not for Tony. You shrugged your shoulders and walked over to him, hanging your head low. He reached out to touch your shoulder but you flinched at the sudden movement. Steve stopped his hand and then dropped it, letting it hang limply at his side while studying you. You gave him an apologetic look before walking away towards the elevator.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x avenger!reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barns imagine #steve rogers imagine #marvel imagine #Wildcard Series

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adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

Hm, mommy issues anybody? Daddy issues anybody? Yeah. Let’s unpack that a little. Not a lot.

Dean runs his hand up the back of his head, feeling the soft spikes of his haircut. It was a stupid tic he’d picked up in his teens, it usually made girls melt. The sensitive guy, the nervous guy, the guy who’s eager to please. It made him look vulnerable. Girls liked that. He started catching himself on it and stopping when he got into his twenties.

His phone buzzes. He looks at it quickly, ignoring the stupid clench in his heart that comes with the action.

One New System Update Available: Install Now?

He sighs and turns it off.

---

Long hours in the car are usually… uneventful. Full of all kinds of empty time that frankly? Dean likes. It’s a nice break from the constant weird noises of sketchy motel rooms with paper-thin walls, from the creaking pipes in the bunker. Mostly, it’s a break from thinking about whatever batshit depressing problems they have up their ass that week.

But this time? The open road is endless, like a really shitty, really boring acid trip. A fucking infinity of his ankle cramping up on the side roads. And Sam always gives him the stink eye when he reaches for his phone, so he can’t even do that. He does make pit stops more often than usual, so he doesn’t crawl out of his own skin, and his glares keep Sam from mentioning it. Maybe he just thinks he’s got the shits. He’ll let him keep thinking that.

At least on the pot he can check his phone.

But time and time again, he lays down a loud paper cover that doesn’t do much to cover up the griminess of the seat and sits down, and unlocks his phone. He waits until he’s fully in the stall to do it, even though he could end the suspense the second he puts Baby in park. Maybe he knows what the answer is gonna be.

What the answer always is.

No New Messages.

He sighs. Story of his life.

---

Sam snatches his phone next time it buzzes in the cup holder before Dean can even reach for it. Dean opens his mouth to gripe, but his stomach ties itself in a knot anyway. He doesn’t know whether he wants it to be… or whether he’s dreading it.

“Who is it?” he tries to say it casually. It sounds forced to him, but Sam doesn’t notice.

“Cas,” he’s got this dopey little smile on his face, and Dean feels his face heat up. For no goddamn reason, it’s not like-

“Why’re you- what’s up? Anything wrong?” Dean knows Sam would’ve said right away if something was wrong, but he wants his brother to spit it out already, and Sam looks like the cat that got the cream. That means he’s about to try to be funny.

“Nah, nah.” Sam grins again, glancing away from the phone finally.

“Well then put it down, Nosy, what the fuck,” He’s already seen the text, whatever it is, so it’s no use, but Dean bristles anyway. It’s not like Cas would’ve sent him anything actually embarrassing, right? What was the last thing they were talking about… the best roadside pancakes? Yeah, so, it couldn’t be anything weird. Well, it’s Cas, so it could always be something weird. But nothing incriminating. Hell, Sam’s accidentally opened a nude a girl sent him one time so it’s not like it could be worse than that. Not like Cas is sending him nudes. Dean cracks a grin at the thought of what a thirst trap would look like for Cas. Probably him in a, like, half unbuttoned button up laid out in a library chair. Maybe a book in hand. An angel blade. The weapon! Not-

“He just- he just wanted to update you on where he is in Gilligan’s Island.” There’s a laugh in Sam’s voice, and Dean wants to know why. Probably just the way Cas described it, he always finds this certain way of saying things that’s just… kinda endearing and kinda confusing.

“He’s watching without me? Son of a bitch!”

Sam smirks. “Yeah, he and Jack. Jack finished Pirates of the Carribean and he wanted more island stuff.”

Dean shakes his head. “Motherfuckers…”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You want me to text him back for you?”

Dean rolls his shoulders out. “It’s fine, I’ll just do it at the next stop.”

They pull into the next gas station and Dean doesn’t look at his phone again until he’s hidden.

---

Because Sam is a nosy bitch, he asks. Well that, and he’s really tired of the car ride taking twice as long with all the stops they’re making. Dean’s usually a ‘pee in a bottle and don’t pitch a fit’ kind of driver, himself included (Sam’s scarred for life at this point), but now? It’s like they’re traveling with a six year old kid, stopping every hour.

The third stop in Oklahoma alone, he stops Dean. “Okay, do we need to go to the hospital?”

Dean quirks his eyebrows and frowns. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He’s got a clue what they’re talking about.

Sam bitches with his whole face. “We’ve been stopping every four fucking feet for days now, so you’re either dying and we need to go to the ER and get an endoscopy, or-

“An endoscope who?”

Sam doesn’t take the bait. Shocker. “Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to bypass him. Sam is smarter than he looks. They grab his phone. “Sammy!” This time the word’s annoyed, a warning. Like he used to say right before he really viciously wrestled Sam to the ground and pried the last cookie out of his delicate little hands when they were kids.

Unfortunately, Sam has a height and reach advantage. He holds the phone up and Dean doesn’t have a chance unless- Dean punches him in the stomach. Sam makes a winded noise but manages to keep his arm raised. He glares harder. “You’re gonna talk to me, or you’re not getting this back.”

God, they’re a bitch. “Fine, fuck you. I’ll shit the old fashioned way.” Dean saunters off to the horrifically artificial lights of the gas station, a middle finger waving back just for his little bro.

When he gets back, Sam’s looking much more compassionate. It’s worse. “Dean, why are you so obsessed with your phone? What’re you waiting on?”

Dean rolls his eyes and gets in his car, leaving Sam to follow him. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, dude, I’m just making sure I don’t miss any texts from Mom,” He jams the key into the ignition and steps on the gas. Sam’s door snaps the rest of the way shut with the sudden force and they yelp. “Oh, don’t be a drama queen.”

“You’re the dramatic one right now, Dean.” Sam raises his eyebrows, condescension dripping off his expression. “Did she say she’d text soon?”

“Nope.” Dean shrugs. “Just making sure. It’s kinda my fault she died and then came back to life in a world she didn’t understand; least I can do is pick up the damn phone.”

Sam sighs. “Dean, she’s not gonna freak out if you don’t answer right away. Unclench, man.”

“Unclench?” Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. “Fuck off, Sam, I’m fine!”

There’s a tense silence. Dean finally starts to think he’s given up this stupid argument, but then Sam shifts in his seat. “She’s not Dad, Dean. She’s gonna come back.”

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. “Never said she was. And Dad always came back.”

“Dean-”

“Sam, just drop it, please-”

“I know how hard it is-”

Dean’s harsh laugh cuts the car into silence again. Sam’s got that kicked puppy look on his face, Dean knows it, and he forces his shoulder to relax before talking. “Look, Sammy, I appreciate it and all but- you have no fucking clue what it’s like for your parent to just fucking… ignore you.”

“I grew up with Dad too, Dean. Hell, he lied to me until I was like 6, he ran out on both of us all the time; I never knew where he was, he never told me where he was going-”

“Yeah, well, he always picked up the phone for you, didn’t he?” Dean lets out a harsh breath and changes lanes just for something to do with his hands.

“He’d stay out for weeks no matter how much I called-”

“Yeah, but he answered. He answered when you called, when you texted, to tell you when he’d be home or to tell you to fuck off and stop calling, but he’d answer.” Dean wipes at his eyebrow. He doesn’t care about this shit. He doesn’t fucking care. “Dad called me when he wanted to talk to me,” then Dean corrects himself “-when he wanted to tell me something. So excuse me… if I get a little antsy. But you- you don’t get it at all.” Dad and Mom, they both left him. Both ditched him as soon as they could and never looked back. Not until they needed him to hunt something. And he got it, he did. But just because he understood didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed. And just because he was pissed didn’t mean he didn’t want them to call. Expect them or hope them to text, just to check in. Something more than coordinates and a link to a news article.

He wants someone to care about him. And fuck if that isn’t the saddest thing anybody’s ever heard.

“Dean…”

It’s been a full five minutes, and Dean’s been waiting for Sam to bring it back up again, to not let this stupid thing go. “What?” he says sullenly.

Sam holds the phone up so Dean can see the screen without taking his eyes totally off the road. It’s a video, and he sees Cas awkwardly holding the camera away from him, two heads of blonde hair behind him. Sam taps the play arrow.

“Hello, Dean.” Jack waves behind him with his usual energy, and Cas looks incredibly fond. “I’m here with Jack and your mother-”

“Mary,” Mary corrects. She crosses her arms uncomfortably, but her expression is soft.

“Mary.” Cas repeats. “I decided to invite her to come by before you and Sam got back- that is, if you’re still coming back today. Sam has been telling me that you’re not going as fast as usual, and while I do appreciate you finally gaining some self-preservation-”

Dean rolls his eyes at the smiling jab.

“- I do hope you’ll get back tonight. Mary has requested we order pizza and chicken wings, and I got the kind you like- the Mango Habenero, but-”

“No promises they’ll be here tomorrow!” Mary calls out jokingly. Sam’s grinning behind the phone now.

“Hurry home! I miss you!” Jack adds sincerely.

The camera turns back toward Cas fully for a moment, and he holds it way too close to his face. “Yes. I- We- just stay safe. And stop worrying. And iHop is superior to Waffle House.”

There’s a rustling noise and then the video cuts off. Sam is grinning smugly from the passenger seat. Dean raises his eyebrows. “So you’ve been updating Cas about me?”

Sam shrugs. “We snapchat.”

“You what?”

“I send him pictures of you when you’re looking really constipated.” Sam clarifies unhelpfully. “Cas and I like to think up reasons for why you’re mad this time- avocado toast, streaks on the windshield when you try to wipe it at the gas station, that one piece of hair that does the weird-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Dean snaps. “Wait, what about my hair?”

Sam laughs. “Just drive, Dean. For the wings.”

Dean frowns and pushes Baby faster. Well… now he doesn’t have to stop so much.

He makes Sam pee in a bottle next time he has to go.

#dean winchester #mary winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #implied destiel #castiel #jack kline #my writing #ficlet

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joontier · 3 years

Text

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report vii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: FINALLY~ we get to see a little bit of JK’s pov heh

word count: 2.4k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist] @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

“I hope you don’t mind us picking up a friend first then a drive thru afterwards... we did promise someone a ride to the ceremony as well.” Chohee eyes Jungkook through the rear-view mirror. “Plus, we haven’t had any breakfast yet sooo…” Your new passenger uncharacteristically nods with unbridled enthusiasm. Huh.

“Totally not an issue at all. If you don’t mind, breakfast is on me,” he announces, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. You raise a freshly threaded eyebrow. There is no way this kid is actually offering to pay for your food. Jungkook clears his throat quietly, “Um...since you guys offered me a ride...you know…”

Without even having to look at each other, you just know you and Chohee have similar smiles plastered on each of your faces. “Well,” Chohee makes a quick glance at the man seated at the back, “if you insist, Jungkook-ssi. How nice of you to do so.”

You’re positive Jeon Jungkook will regret he even offered - in half an hour. Probably less.

Just recently, Chohee has decided to relive an old hobby of hers: teasing you relentlessly with men clearly way out of your league until you actually end up investing much more time than intended (just as planned by Chohee) - until you come to the realization that there wasn’t going to be even the slightest chance of them even liking you back. End point is - you end up getting heartbroken for irrational reasons.

Chohee, whose eyes sparkle with mirth with every mention of the Jimin, continues her teasing, despite your constant reminders to have her energy and time diverted to another subject, instead of poking her head through your currently non-existent love life.

It’s an undisputed fact that Jimin is a cutie and quite the charmer, especially with his heroic deed of saving your sorry ass from getting your drinked spiked at the bar. However, there is a part of you that knows the slightest bit of infatuation you might feel or might have felt for Jimin was probably caused by the lack of interaction with men for the majority of your collegiate life. Of course, you always came back to your principles, that of which is prioritizing your career to shun love interests.

Admittedly, you might have gotten distracted once, but you won’t ever let that happen again.

In line with your best friend’s attempt to have you score a date and a boyfriend eventually, (her timeline, not yours!)Chohee had even gone so far as offering Jimin a ride to the oath taking ceremony that’s going to be held today at the Coex convention center at Gangnam.

With Jimin’s apartment just a couple of blocks away from the gasoline station, you spot him right away when Chohee turns right into the corner. He’s stood by the entrance of his apartment building, looking effortlessly attractive as he scrolls through his phone while waiting.

Chohee presses her fist lightly against the center of the wheel, the car emitting a soft honk to get Jimin’s attention. Jimin gives a curt wave in acknowledgment and reaches between his legs to grab his satchel. As soon as Jimin opens the car door, his head jolts slightly backward in surprise when he sees another passenger already inside.

Chohee does the ice-breaker, introducing Jungkook to Jimin while she drives off. “Just before we got to your place, we had to fill the tank first and whaddya know? Met Jungkook at the gas station too! His bike broke down and I’ve offered him a ride - ergo, your new seatmate.” She adds a thumbs up. “Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin.”

Contrary to Chohee’s cheerful voice mere seconds ago, awkward silence ensues after the two men bow to each other in greeting. The only subject of sanity the car was holding onto was the soft voice of Chohee’s navigation app coming from her phone on the dashboard.

Why was it so hard to talk when you’ve all got at least a few things in common?

Right, maybe it’s the fact that Jimin may or may not have known about your beef with Jeon Jungkook. Chohee’s doing, obviously.

Thankfully, you spot a Burger King joint along the way and propose getting a greasy breakfast instead of looking for other options. There are murmurs of agreement heard in the suddenly cramped space of your best friend’s car. “Jungkook-ssi, breakfast still on you, yeah?” Chohee asks, joining the queue.

“Uh…yeah-”

“Perfect! Just making sure because _________ and I are famished!” Okay - that wasn’t exactly the word you were looking for, but if it gets you the free meal, then you’re absolutely ravenous. Chohee’s eyes briefly pass yours before sending a wink in Jungkook’s direction. “How ‘bout you Jimin-ssi? You hungry?”

He looks at you, then Chohee, then at Jungkook. “I’m fine, I’m not hungry.” You see Jungkook trying painfully hard to not let his eyes dart around too much. Just then, a low rumble erupts from Jimin’s stomach. Woops. Your brain can dictate your emotions but tummy would never lie outright.

“Jimin-ssi!” Jungkook clasps a hand on the blond’s shoulder. “It’s fine! Breakfast is on me. Order up, bro!”

With Jimin still looking hesitant, Jungkook decides to add a little fairy dust to his encouragement, “think of it as a mini celebration of us finally getting to be licensed doctors in a few hours!” Jimin gives in with very evident reluctance, even offering to pay for the whole group instead at one point.

Your swear you see hesitation cross Jungkook’s eyes briefly, but you’re glad he’s a man of honor, even if it be for this particular instance only, firmly dismissing Jimin’s proposal. Which is perfect, honestly, because this time you get a chance at revenge and a very hearty breakfast.

“No crumbs on the floor, please!”

From the backseat, you see Jungkook eyeing your paper bags on yours and Chohee’s laps, face stoic as ever. Emphasis on bags. A little more concentration and Jungkook can pretty much send lasers blasting through his eyes with the way he’s scrutinizing your orders.

As shameless as it sounds, you and Chohee were never ones to back out of a free meal - and make the most out of it, especially when one had offered so nicely. So imagine Jungkook’s reaction when he and Jimin only got a Whopper meal and you and Chohee get upgraded full meals.

“Doesn’t seem like we’re the ones who should be worrying about crumbs…” Jungkook mutters, taking a bite of his fry that’s a little too harsh for a slice of a poor fried potato.

“You say something Jungkook?” Chohee queries, unabashedly letting out a small burp after taking a sip of her chocolate flavored milkshake. Bowing his head, Jimin tries to hide his smile as he takes a bite of his burger. You decide to step in, wanting to add a little more MSG to your breakfast menu this fine morning.

“Hey Chee, heard of the news last Monday? There had been recent occurrences of drivers kicking out their passengers in the middle of the expressway, especially this road in particular… talk about some zombie apocalypse shenanigans...I wonder why though…”

Jungkook clears his throat, addressing you this time. “Your strawberry milkshake...good, yeah?” With cheeks flushed, Jungkook dares not to look forward, murmuring his regrets over ordering more food next time.

You nod with genuine gusto, throwing him an additional thumbs-up, which only causes Jungkook to sulk slightly in his seat. You eat the rest of your food with a bright smile. Ah, free food - what else is there to say?

“If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.”

After reading the Hippocratic oath, the newly declared licensed medical doctors collectively put their hands down and take their seats. There is an immediate sense of fulfillment heavy in the air. Nobody can blame them - not when one has gruelled through six years of medical school.

Jungkook inhales deeply, yet he still feels like he’s out of breath.

He draws in another long one, savoring each second of exhale afterwards. From his peripheral vision, Jungkook watches you as you wave endlessly to the someone on the far right where the family and relatives are seated. Though he can’t see much from afar, with the way your hands are moving slower by the second, he figures you’ve already managed to catch the attention of whoever it is you were waving at.

Jungkook diverts his eyes somewhere else, eventually landing on the stage where he sees his own father, standing behind the podium as he gives - what people beside him would consider - a ‘motivational’ speech in front of all the new doctors of Korea.

He wonders if he could even see him, if he knew that his own son actually made it through college, if he realized that they were under the same roof at this very moment - an occurrence he never thought would happen again.

Jungkook reverts his eyes back to you, watching you in secret as you talk to yourself while trying to address someone else. So you were waving to your parents after all. Cute. The man couldn’t fight back the small smile etching onto his face.

He was happy for you - a genuine statement, even though majority, if not all, your encounters consist of you both bickering like small kids… And yet, he can’t deny the strong feeling of envy brewing at his heart, knowing that he could never have the same type of interaction you had with your parents, with how tight you all seem.

Jungkook felt sick. Even though you ordered twice as much as he did, he felt like throwing up. He wanted this ceremony to be over with already.

Much to Jungkook’s relief, the program ends shortly after that. Excited to greet and congratulate the new batch of doctors, people from all sides of the venue rush to the entrance. With literally nowhere else to go, Jungkook decides to follow you through the crowd, in the hopes that you’ll lead him to Chohee and Jimin so he could properly thank them for the ride and he could be on his way.

He’s surprised to not see you the least bothered by it, but then again, the convention center is packed with both the oath-takers and their relatives, so you might have really not known that he’s been following you all along.

Like usual, it’s Chohee who notices him first. This girl is everywhere, all the time.

“Jungkook, you’re here!”

Chohee's acknowledgement of his presence causes you to turn in your heel quickly to verify it. You stare at him briefly, opening your mouth as if to say something when someone calls out your name. “Mom!! Dad!!”

Your English call causes a few onlookers and Jungkook recalls somebody once pointing out that you were a foreigner - and that you were also the first one to finish at the top of the class at SNU.

With Chohee’s parents tailing yours, they rush to their own daughter, congratulating her with a hug and a cute bouquet of tulips. As Jimin appears with his own party not too long afterwards, Jungkook figures it’s his cue to leave. At this rate, none of you would have noticed if he actually left.

Just as Jungkook was about to take off, a small hand grabs his wrist. You’re looking up at him and he swears he sees your lips curve upward a little before dragging him back to your little group. Stunned as ever, Jungkook wonders if he hinted on a little bit of concern in your features… and you smiled at him! For the first time! At least that’s what he thought he saw.

Admittedly, all interactions between you and him were not the most friendly. Jungkook knew he acted like a dick a couple of times, but it’s the only way he knows that might allow you to lower your guard because the only thing he was certain of was that you get worked up every time you see him.

Regardless of whether or not it really was a smile, Jungkook finds himself standing in the midst of this gathering of some sort. “Moms, Dads, this is Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin.”

The moms suddenly gush over them, while their fathers eye the two younger men warily. “Are you?… you’re not…” Chohee’s mother nudges her husband a little too obviously. “If they are, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?” she grits, a bright smile plastered on her face. Jungkook wanted to laugh at the uncanny resemblance with her daughter.

“Oh what young fine men you are! Mrs. Park, you must be very proud of your son!” Your mother exclaims, resting her cheek on her palm. “But Jungkook-ssi, your parents must be lost then… my husband and I couldn’t figure out how this whole convention center works either…”

Jungkook shakes his head slowly, lips pursed. “Oh. Um, my parents won’t make it today. They’re very busy people…” Jungkook drags his words, hoping they’ll drop the subject.

Well, they did, but there was an inevitable pregnant pause after that - one which Jungkook was avoiding in the first place. Chohee’s mother clasps her hands together, breaking the awkward tension. “Uh - would you like to join us then? A little celebration for a memorable day?”

Jungkook bows his head curtly and declines the offer. He wanted to, but he knows it’ll only do more damage to the wound. “It’s okay, Ma’am. I still have quite a lot of things to do today, like getting my motorcycle fixed.” Jungkook nods to Chohee and the girl briefly recalls how they got to the venue together.

Jungkook doesn’t take long after that, bidding his goodbye to everyone and thanking Chohee for the ride that morning. “Well, I’ll be going now. __________-ssi, Chohee-ssi, Jimin-ssi, guess I’ll….see you when I see you.”

“See you when we see you then,” you reply and Jungkook swears it’s an actual smile on your face this time. He returns the action and gets on his way, hoping that he really does get to see you all another time.

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #bts series #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Nine

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: reading canon eris discourse literally makes me dizzy but in this fic he's pretty chill

***

“Any plans for Thanksgiving?” Emerie asks as they stroll between the shelves of the library.

Nesta runs her finger down the spine of a textbook on corporate law. “Not really,” she murmurs distantly.

She’s been doing her best not to think of the upcoming holidays, in fact. Cassian is going to Velaris for Thanksgiving, and of course Feyre invited Nesta as well, but…

She’s always ignored her sister’s holiday invites, but this year is different. Cassian, a recent constant in her life, will be gone, enjoying himself for the first time in months without her presence. And Nesta will be at the cabin alone, because of course she can’t celebrate Thanksgiving with Feyre’s found family. Being friends with Cassian hasn’t changed that.

“Well,” Emerie is saying, “a bunch of us can’t go home for the holidays for one reason or another, so we’re hosting a small Friendsgiving at my apartment. You’re invited.”

Nesta glances at her, surprised. “Who’s going to be there?”

“The same guys from drinks night: Eris, Justinian, Isaac. Maybe a plus one or two if we’re lucky.” She elbows Nesta. “Maybe a girl for me to take home.”

“I thought the party was at your home already?”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, are you coming?”

Nesta purses her lips. “But you said it was a Friendsgiving. Those guys aren’t my friends.”

Emerie looks at her like she's insane. “Uh, why not?”

“Because,” Nesta states, “we’ve only had one real interaction all semester.”

Emerie scoffs. “You talk to them all the time in class, Nesta.”

“Yes. Out of necessity.”

Emerie raises a high brow. “That’s how you view spending time with us? A ‘necessity’?”

She’s upset, and Nesta doesn’t know what she said wrong. “That’s not what I meant,” she tries to say.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I just…” Nesta shrugs. “I thought it took more to make friends than a single night out.” Those are the rules, right?

Emerie narrows her dark eyes at her. “I’m sorry we’re not up to standard, then. But for your information, those guys liked you. I’m sure they considered you a friend.” She turns to leave, but Nesta is so stunned she can’t even try to stop her. The click of Emerie’s heels resonate long after she’s gone.

“Hey,” Cassian comes up to her later that day. “About Thanksgiving—”

Nesta drops her dinner plate onto the island with a clatter. “What is it with everybody and Thanksgiving?” Her voice is unnecessarily loud.

Cassian blinks. “Well, it’s only a few days away—”

“I know,” she says. “I’m fine staying home alone. We never celebrated Thanksgiving growing up, you know? It’s really not a big deal.”

“Will you let me finish, Nesta?”

Nesta presses her lips together.

Cassian takes a breath. “I think you should— I would really love it if you came to Velaris with me this weekend.”

There’s a silence as he waits for her to answer.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says after a moment.

Before he can press the subject, she blurts, “I already have plans.”

“You do?” Nesta can’t tell if he sounds disappointed or surprised.

She straightens her back, lying through her teeth, “Yes. Some friends from school are getting together for a Friendsgiving, and I’m going.” She almost bites her tongue on the word friends. She doesn’t even know what that means anymore.

“That’s amazing,” Cassian says, though he still looks a little taken aback. “I’m glad.” He looks down at the marble counter then, trying to smile. “Sucks for me, though.”

Nesta huffs a laugh. “Please, like you won’t be having fun with your friends whether I’m there or not.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but why go for half the fun when I could go for double?”

“That’s not how math works,” she snipes.

Cassian grabs a fork so he can sit down across from Nesta. “Don’t you ever bring up correct math in this house again.” He points his silverware at her threateningly.

From there, they can devolve into their usual dinner habit of bantering that leads to more serious conversation. Cassian has recently been on a French movie binge, Nesta learns, and even though she despises the French, she listens closely to his analysis of each film and offers her own thoughts back. She even promises to rewatch one or two of his favorites at a later time. The giddiness he gives in return makes her almost wish she had accepted his invitation earlier, if only so she could keep making him happy.

God. What is he doing to her?

Later that night, Nesta pulls out her phone and opens up her messages with Emerie. She doesn’t want to have rejected Cassian just to end up staying home alone all weekend. She types out five different messages and erases them before settling on an apathetic, Is the invite for Thursday still on?

Emerie takes her time to reply, likely to punish Nesta. After some minutes, she finally texts, Yes.

It’s all she can expect from Emerie, and it’s all she needs to see.

Nesta: I’ll be there.

***

“Cassian!” Feyre swings open the door with an overjoyed smile, ready to greet him.

He laughs and steps in for a hug, going so far as to lift her feet off the floor. Because damn him, even with his conflicted feelings towards Feyre lately, he’s missed her. He’s missed all of his friends, even though he’s found something precious while he was away from them.

He’s ushered into the penthouse, which Feyre and Rhys insist on calling an “apartment”, as if that softens the blow of their extravagant wealth. Cassian and everybody else goes along with it, however, because the rich have committed worse crimes. At least that’s what Nesta says.

“Rhys is out getting last minute beer from the gas station,” Feyre says as she takes his overnight bag. “And you’re the first to arrive, which means I have you all to myself.” She whirls on him with a predatory gleam in her eye. “Tell me everything about the last two months with you and Nesta, ASAP.”

Cassian’s heart starts racing at the unexpected interrogation, but he laughs it off and shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just roommates.”

“Well, I know that.” Feyre rolls her eyes. “But what is it like? How is it going? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

Before he can answer a single question, Feyre goes on. “I haven’t heard from either of you in eons, it feels like. Is Nesta still picky about her foods touching? Does she get upset when you play music too loud? Does she—”

“Jesus, Feyre,” Cassian interrupts loudly. “Not everything in my life is about your sister. Give it a rest.” He takes his duffel bag back from her.

“I’m just curious!” she says indignantly, but Cassian is already heading up the winding stairs to his guest room, going as fast as he can without outright running.

“I need to get washed up!” he announces before Feyre can make him stop and come back for more questioning.

In the safety of his bedroom, he releases a breath.

If Cassian thought keeping Nesta’s health issues from Feyre was difficult, he couldn’t have predicted how painful it would be to hide his feelings for Nesta. Still, he doesn’t dare expose what he can’t yet define, especially not to his nosy-ass friends. Some things just aren’t matters for gossip.

***

Nesta hesitantly enters Emerie’s small studio apartment to a party in full swing; “full swing” being Justinian and Isaac playing video games on the couch while Emerie is in the kitchen area attempting to make drinks. Nesta stops near the kitchenette and crosses her arms, surveying the scene. “Something about this doesn’t look right,” she says aloud. Emerie doing the hard work while the men play? Antithetical to her very nature.

“I know,” is all Emerie says without looking up from whatever hellish concoction she’s whipping up. “But I’m the host, so this is my role.”

“Hey, Nesta,” the guys speak up together, not taking their eyes off the TV. Isaac is the first to break his concentration from the game, glancing at Nesta and doing a double take. “Woah, you look good today.” Is he blushing?

Emerie finally looks up at that, eyeing Nesta’s modest black dress. “A little funeral-chic, but still hot as ever, babe.” Right after, she makes a face at the term babe. “Nope, I tried it and I hate it.”

Nesta hates it just as much, but goes over to help Emerie with what she now realizes are oddly colored Jello shots. She picks up a little plastic cup with dark jelly in it and wiggles it around. “What color is this supposed to be?”

“Brown.” Emerie blows a piece of escaped hair out of her face. “They were supposed to be Thanksgiving themed.”

Nesta surveys the shots arranged in various fall colors. Definitely an interesting choice for a twenty-four year old law student, but what did Nesta know about parties?

“Where’s Eris?” she asks casually as she helps arrange more cups. Her argument with Emerie is far from forgotten, but the two women are too alike for their own good. They’ll ignore the lingering tension until it dissipates, and that will be the end of that.

Before Emerie can answer Nesta’s question, a loud bang comes from the entryway as the already open door hits the wall. Eris Vanserra sweeps inside in his designer coat and sophisticated boots, followed by a new, striking face. “It’s fucking freezing,” he announces, just as the new guy quietly shuts the door behind them.

“You’re late,” Emerie says in her usual flat tone.

“I had to pick up my twerp brother.” Eris tilts his head toward the redhead behind him.

“I didn’t ask to come,” the new guy, Eris’s brother, chimes in.

Nesta is perked up now, angling to get a better look at him. Same hair color, same eyes, different skin tone from Eris. He looks like the relaxed, unpretentious version of his brother. Someone pauses the video game.

“I’m Lucien,” he awkwardly raises a hand.

Justinian looks at everybody else. “I’m confused— does this mean we can finally replace Eris’s punk ass?”

The thought of an unexpected guest first makes Nesta clench up, especially when she’s seated right next to the damn guy at the dining table. New people means everything about the regular social routine will be changed up, and she isn’t at all prepared for it.

It takes maybe fifteen minutes for her to realize that Lucien is nothing to worry about— much quicker than she’s ever warmed up to a stranger before.

He has the affected quiet confidence of someone who would rather be anywhere else but here. No one knows that mask better than Nesta.

Against all odds, she’s the first to initiate a conversation.

“Why are you here?” she says bluntly.

No hello, no how are you. Fuck, this is why she doesn’t talk to people.

Lucien looks surprised at the sudden acknowledgment, but answers, “My plans got cancelled at the last minute.” His mouth tightens as he looks toward his brother. “So Eris dragged me here instead.”

“You don’t like your brother?”

Lucien narrows his eyes at her, defensive. “Is this an interrogation or something?”

Embarrassment heats Nesta’s face, but she hides it under her usual cold stare. “Never mind.”

She turns back to her food, refocusing on an anecdote Isaac is giving about a girl he met the other week. A moment later, Lucien says lowly, “I can’t stand my brother.”

She laughs a little too loudly at that, and everyone looks at her.

Isaac grins. “See, Nesta thinks it’s a funny story.”

Nesta frowns. “No, I don’t. You told it last week and no one laughed.”

His face falls. Eris laughs out loud at him, and Emerie tosses wadded up napkins at both men. “You’re both deeply uninteresting. Let’s talk about me.”

She launches into a heated discussion about how she plans to defeat “that bitch Brian” for the internship at Velaris’s biggest law firm next summer, with Eris interjecting that she wouldn’t survive a day in the big city. Nesta turns back to Lucien. “I understand how you feel.”

“You hate Eris too?”

“No, but I have sisters.” Eris is nice, if a pretentious asshole at times, but she empathizes with Lucien either way.

He raises a brow. “And you’re here for Thanksgiving instead of with them?”

For the first time all night, Nesta remembers that Cassian is having fun in a spacious penthouse with Feyre and Elain and the others, likely eating much nicer food than store-bought turkey and Jello shots, and she almost deflates. Almost. Because as much as she enjoys this— spending time with people that belong to her, not Feyre or anybody else— there’s a hollow space in the room that Cassian usually fills. She doesn’t know how she can miss someone and be this thoroughly content at the same time, but she tries not to ponder on her feelings.

She shrugs at Lucien’s question. “We’re all here instead of with our families.”

What would have been a thirty-minute meal on Nesta’s own stretches into a long night of full bellies and fuller conversation. Justinian demands a toast in honor of Friendsgiving, and Emerie tells him not to pull that cringy shit, but everyone ends up raising their small Jello shots to clink against each other.

Thanksgiving might be Nesta’s favorite holiday.

***

Cassian doesn’t know what this feeling is: the itching, nervy sense of impatience that plagues him the longer dinner drags on. All he knows is that tonight Mor’s laughter is just a little too loud, and Amren’s quips are just a little too sharp, and Rhys’s stories aren’t very interesting for once.

Nothing about his friends have changed, but somehow, Cassian feels different. Empty. He can’t stop thinking about what Nesta is doing right now.

He checks his phone under the table for the sixth time in three minutes, for what, he doesn’t know. Maybe she’s in trouble and needs his help. Maybe she’s having a bad night and wants to talk to him. Maybe she’s just bored and thinking about him.

None of this is true, evidently, because his phone remains dead silent.

“Cassian.” It’s Elain’s gentle voice that draws him out of his head. “What’s it like having a roommate for once? I know you and Nesta love being alone.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Alone? No we don’t. Why would we love being alone together?”

Elain looks at him like he’s grown a new head. “I didn’t mean alone together. It’s just that you’ve always spent your time boarded up in that mountain cabin on your own, and before Nesta moved in, she wouldn’t leave her apartment even to see me.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Feyre butts in. She whirls to Cassian with her hands under her chin. “All this time I was wondering what you and Nesta living together would be like, and I didn’t even consider you guys avoiding each other.”

Cassian scoffs a laugh but doesn’t know how to respond. He just wants Feyre and Elain to stop poking at this raw, fresh thing in his life before his nerves get worse, so he turns to Amren and brings up the thing he knows will shut everyone down: work. “How much longer is Rhys gonna have you playing double agent at Adriatic?” She’s been acting as brand ambassador to the West Coast-based conglomerate for the past five months, playing nice while gathering information on Night Court Inc.’s biggest competitor.

Groans resound around the table, but Amren’s eyes brighten frightfully. “If he keeps me there any longer, I might end up staying for good.”

Rhysand smiles thinly. “Amren has a crush on their new CFO. If she keeps going on about Varian’s pretty face I might pull her out of Adriatic by the end of the year.”

Just as Cassian is about to convince himself to care, his phone vibrates in his hand. Everything tunes out as he sees Nesta’s name on the screen, attached to a new text. He clicks into it.

A picture of Nesta and her friends around a dinner table pops up, smiling and laughing. His heart catches in his throat at the image.

“What did we say about phones during dinner, Cassian?” Rhysand interrupts just then.

Cassian stands up quickly, stammering, “Uh, I just need to answer this call— it’s important.” Azriel is staring up at him like he’s lost his mind, but Cassian doesn’t notice or care as he rushes out of the room with his phone in a death grip, overcome.

Alone in a hallway bathroom, he lets himself look at the picture again, hungrily absorbing every detail he couldn’t catch the first time around: her face is flushed and her hair is down, wilder than usual. Her smile is so rarely genuine that it kills him a little just to see it; he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or pained that she’s having such a good time, that she isn’t missing him like he’s missing her. A sharp-faced girl that Cassian assumes is Emerie is holding the camera, likely having stolen Nesta’s phone to demand a picture, and the two women are surrounded by guys he doesn’t recognize. Except—

The face beside Nesta’s catches Cassian’s attention, and he clicks to zoom in. “Is that Lucien Vanserra?” he mutters.

Elain’s ex gets to hang out with Nesta while he doesn’t? This is fucked.

He doesn’t have a reason for his actions as he shoves his phone into his pocket and exits the bathroom. He just knows he needs to get out of here, away from this place that’s so far from Nesta’s heart.

His keys and coat hang near the front door, and he can hear Feyre’s voice from the dining room. “Cassian? Where are you—”

The door slams behind him before she can finish.

***

Being the only one who refused to get drunk off Jello shots, Eris offers to drive Nesta home for the night.

While Lucien is passed out in the backseat without a care in the world, Nesta is so awake she can feel her nerves buzzing. She knows as soon as she leaves this car, the bittersweet loneliness that comes after a party will set in, but for now…

What a night. She sighs and lets her head fall back against the seat, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Damn,” Eris lets out a low whistle as he pulls up to the mountain cabin. “This is your place?”

She lifts her head, realizing she’s home. “Ah. It’s only a temporary living situation,” she explains. “It’s my— friend’s place.”

“Friend or sugar daddy?” Eris smirks.

Nesta scowls, grabbing her stuff and pushing open the door to leave. It’s not Eris’s fault she’s unable to take a joke about Cassian, but that doesn’t change the sensitivity of the topic.

“Hey, wait—” he calls after her.

She pauses to look back at him. He hesitates, then says, “Good night.”

“Take care of your brother,” she directs. Stepping out of his fancy car, she shuts the door and raises a hand in goodbye, watching him pull away from the cabin.

Alone in the driveway, Nesta stands under the moonlight for a long moment, letting the chill seep into her bones. She’s dawdling.

She pauses again at the front door, her hand on the doorknob. The dreaded loneliness is already coming over her, crawling over her skin and making a home in the cage of her ribs.

A whole weekend without Cassian.

Maybe she should have asked Emerie if she could stay over for the night, but a part of her knows it would have been futile. Emerie can’t replace Cassian’s constant presence, no matter how much Nesta likes her.

It’s only three days. She steels herself and unlocks the door, prepared to be greeted by darkness and hollow silence.

The first thing she notices when she steps inside is the sound of crackling, followed by a warm glow from the living area. The lights are all off, but the fireplace is ablaze.

Nesta’s brows furrow, confused, but then she sees on the couch— “Cassian?”

***

a/n: i know justinian and isaac are names for side characters that sjm has used before but in this case they're completely different ocs.

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja

#a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ncssianwrites #nessian fic #nessian au

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cherrybracelets · 4 years

Text

as the world caves in

masterlist | request

spencer reid x bau agent!reader

song inspo: as the world caves in - matt maltese (i highly recommend listening to this before or during reading to fully understand the fic)

summary: you’ve worked in the bau for almost a year now, but this is your toughest case to date. when the unsub puts you and spencer in a near death situation, the complex feeling of mortality causes you to bear your souls to one another

word count: 6k | warnings: no smut but it is typical criminal minds violence, plot centers around reader being held hostage by an unsub so there is tying up, reader getting hurt, etc. pls be cautious when reading if that makes you uncomfortable

Your head was pounding, the sound of phones ringing and private chatter ringing through your ears. You shakily poured a cup of coffee, closing your eyes momentarily as you tried to wake yourself up. You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was barely five in the morning. You yawned obnoxiously, assuming no one was around you. But when you heard a quiet snicker from behind, you knew immediately you were not alone. You spun around quickly to see Emily, waving as she set her bag down on her desk.

“Pretty early to be called in. Must be important,” she concurred, pouring herself a cup of stale FBI coffee as well.

“Do you ever get used to it?” You groaned, taking a long swig of the cheap coffee. You had doused it with milk and sugar to make it consumable, but it still left a nasty taste in your mouth with each sip. You knew you wouldn’t make it without caffeine, though, so you stomached it down.

“I’ve been here… five years, now? I can assure you it doesn't get easier,” she laughed. You had missed her laugh, when she was gone. She had become a wonderful mentor to you, and when you thought you lost her, you were shattered. Having her back has been enough to get you through the tough cases, which seemed to be escalating with each one.

“You know, next week is my one year anniversary with the BAU,” you smiled, excited of your first milestone with the team. The BAU was an exceptionally hard job, and many people didn’t make it as long as you had. It was something to be proud of.

“You’re kidding! Congratulations, (Y/N).”

“Thank you!”

You saw Hotch and Derek walk in out of the corner of your eye, deep in conversation. You were sure it was an important one, the look on Hotch’s face confirming your suspicions. They walked straight to the conference room, not even looking up to notice you and Emily. You gave Emily a look, and you were both thinking the same thing. ‘We better get our asses in there.’

You followed Emily into the room, Garcia getting the case ready to present. The rest of the team filtered in over the next few minutes, riddled with dark circles, cups of coffee and worry. There wasn’t much small talk made, everyone too out of it to pretend to talk about what they did last weekend.

“Good morning everyone, thanks for coming in so early,” Hotch addressed, standing up as he welcomed everyone. “We’ve got a bit of a weird case, today. Garcia, why don’t you go ahead and present.”

“Okay, my loves. This is a bit of a weird one, so strap in to keep up with me. A 21 year old female, Emily Davies, was abducted yesterday morning from the parking lot in her apartment complex. Now, the lot did have security cameras, but the unsub cut the internet cable and they can’t download the video until the can fix the wire.”’

“He’s smart, probably knew it would slow us down. And shows he has knowledge in wiring and electrics.” Derek added.

“Exactly. The police believe we should have the footage by the time we land. Now here’s where it gets weird. Two hours after she was abducted, there was a shooting at a gas station about 30 miles outside of the city, off I75. Three dead, including the worker. No cameras there, unfortunately.”

“How do we know it’s the unsub?” You questioned, failing to see the connection between the two crimes.

“Ah, my darling, if there wasn’t a connection we wouldn’t be called in. Our unsub left a note at this crime scene. It read, ‘They were going to take her. I couldn’t let them take her. She is mine, we are in love. Please, leave us be.’” Garcia then pulled up photos of the crime scene and the note on the monitor.

“These are clean shots, straight to the head, execution style,” Reid said, studying the photos on the screen.

“He knows how to use a gun, that’s for sure.” Rossi added.

“The 911 call was made by a customer who walked in to see the carnage about a half hour after the unsub left. They believe he is continuing to drive North, but we currently have no idea what him or his car look like.”

“If he didn’t kill again, he most likely stopped somewhere. He may be lowing low in a roadside motel to keep us off his trail,” Reid said.

“The gas station seemed unplanned. The abduction was thorough, leaving no evidence. But this scene is sloppy, and rushed. They must’ve seen Emily and panicked, and he shot em. This was never part of the plan, and now he’s freaking out.”

“That’s a good point, Emily’s face is all over the news now. He’d need a place to rest for a bit until he can come up with the rest of his plan. How exactly did people discover that Emily was missing?” You asked, curious about the rest of the unsubs plan.

“Well, it was actually kind of a fluke, but very helpful for us. Her boyfriend, Michael Adams, discovered she was gone when he came home early from work. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another six hours, but something had happened and they sent him home. He called 911 when he realized her phone, keys, and bag were all at home but she was nowhere to be found. They aren’t sure exactly what time she went missing, but at that point Michael had only been gone for two hours.”

“This guy had to have been stalking her. He knew to take her on a day she’d be alone for hours, he knew to cut the wires for the security cameras… this was meticulously planned,” Derek responded.

“Except what he didn’t plan for was the boyfriend getting home early, and Emily’s face plastered everywhere. He thought he’d have more time to get away,” JJ added.

“If he truly doesn’t want to be separated from her, it’s only a matter of time before he kills again. Anybody that gets in their way will die, if we don’t stop him. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch instructed, dismissing you all as you separated to prepare for another trip.

You lingered in the conference room for a moment, staring at the photos on the monitor. An uncomfortable feeling floated through you, chills up your spine as you stared at the crime scene. It was far tamer than most things you’d seen during your time here, but something about it made you uneasy. Spencer had noticed you staying back, and he stayed in the room as well. Once everyone cleared out, he cleared his throat to let you know he was there. You turned to him, not sure if you should tell him how you felt or not. Was it weak to say you were nervous?

“You okay?” He asked calmly, his eyes avoiding yours as he waited for your answer.

“I… just have a bad feeling about this case. Does that ever happen to you?”

“Mmm, yes.” He chuckled slightly, running a hand through his hair. “And usually, I’m right.”

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The plane landed in Cincinnati only a few hours later, cars awaiting to take you to the police station upon arrival. You were grateful to hear that they were able to pull the security footage from the lot Emily was abducted, and it was ready to be viewed when you arrived at the station.

You got in a car with Derek and Spencer, a duo that you usually tried to avoid. Derek always joked with you and Spencer that the two of you had a crush on each other. Although it was slightly true on your part, and your heart did race every time Spencer walked into a room, it was embarrassing to see Spencer so confidently deny any feelings for you.

But, Hotch sent the three of you to the station, instructing you to study the security tapes. The rest of them were going to talk to the boyfriend and visit the crime scene. You sat awkwardly in the back seat, trying to keep quiet, not wanting to say anything that would entice Derek.

“Judging by the way he worded this note, our unsub is most definitely in love with Emily. Do you think she knew him?” Spencer turned to you, and then to Derek, waiting for someone to respond.

“It’s impossible to say. There was no sign of forced entry in the apartment.” Derek responded.

“They think she was taking her trash out when she was abducted. Explains why she left all of her things inside, and the door was unlocked,” you added, wanting to be a part of the conversation. Although it had been almost a year, you still felt like you had to constantly prove yourself when you were with them.

“Even if she knew him, you wouldn’t get in someone's car without your phone, or wallet. He had to have had a weapon,” Derek said.

“The gun he used to kill everyone in the gas station, probably,” Spencer muttered. You all stayed silent for the rest of the drive, your brain taking a quiet moment to think through the details of the case.

The police station wasn’t too far from the airport, and you got there pretty quickly. You always felt so small in the police stations, usually dealing with male detectives or sheriffs or cops. You felt like you’d drown in testosterone, and everyone would be so busy in a dick measuring contest that they couldn’t save you. As you walked into the station, you were greeted by yet again another male detective who reeked of desperation and Viagra.

“Hi, I’m Detective Elijah Guthrie. Thank you so much for coming.” He shook all of your hands, welcoming you into his station.

“Where do you have the security tapes set up?” Reid asked quickly, realizing the urgency of this case, and that we didn't have time for small talk.

“Conference room. Everything you said you needed is set up there, as well.”

“Awesome, we should go get started, then,” Derek smiled, leading the three of you into the room.

You all sat down and watched the tapes, replaying them over and over to catch every detail that you could. Luckily, the unsub cut the wires after he took the girl. It seemed sloppy, on his end. He had to know eventually that we’d get the footage. But he was smart enough to make sure his face was nowhere in view. Although, his car was still in view, and you were able to pull a plate number.

“Garcia, baby girl, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear. What can I do for you, my sweets?”

“Run a plate for us. Ohio plates, number EUE 8561.”

“Of course, give me uno momento....” You could hear the sound of Garcia typing away, finding the mysterious man. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if any of these cases would get solved without her.

“Alright, I got your man. 24 year old Jacob Lane.” “Are we sure our unsub didn’t just steal this guy’s car?”

“Good point, Garcia check to see if Jacob has any connection to Emily.”

“Gotcha… oh, man. Looks like he grew up in the same town that she did.”

“Well, that’s suspicious,” Derek responded, raising his eyebrows. “Alright, thanks baby. Try and dig up some more on this guy.” He hung up the phone, staring at the paused video in front of him.

“(Y/N), you call Hotch and give him the update. There’s a good chance this guy’s our unsub. Reid, call JJ and have her ask the boyfriend if they knew this guy.” You and Reid both looked at each other and nodded, standing up and walking into the hallway to complete your tasks. You dialed Hotch’s number swiftly, listening to the ringing as you awaited him to answer.

“Hotchner,” he answered, sternly.

“Hey, it’s me. I think we got our guy- Jacob Lane. The car that Emily got into was registered to him, and he grew up in the same town as her. Garcia is digging up some more info, and Reid is on the phone with JJ, gonna see what we can get from the boyfriend.”

“Alright, well we’ve just been informed there was another shooting. This time at a motel not too far from the gas station. We’re gonna head there, now.”

“How many, this time?” You asked, dreading the answer.

“Six. Doesn’t look like anybody made it out.”

You stayed silent, your head spinning as you thought of six more dead bodies, six more grieving families.

“Thanks, Hotch.” You hung up your phone, walking back towards Reid and Derek.

“Detective Guthrie just told me there’s been another shooting,” Derek said to you, unaware if you had been informed.

“Yeah, Hotch just told me. We have to get this guy before he does this again.”

“Unfortunately, most cases with spree killers like this end in hostage situations, and eventually suicide by cop. Spree killers' motivations are usually very similar.” Reid stated, his voice emotionless as he rattled off his facts. He was obviously right, and you felt sick as you thought of standing face to face with this man,

“I’m gonna go talk to Emily’s parents, see if they knew anything about Jacob. You guys stay in here and go over everything we have so far, see if we missed anything.”

“Alright. Thanks, Derek.”

He left the room quietly, walking out to find the family. You started looking over the video again, straining your eyes to see if you could make out any overlooked details. But it was the same every time, there was nothing new to report. You were angry, not feeling any closer to catching this guy.

“What do you make of this?” You asked Spencer, hoping his genius brain would come up with an explanation yours couldn’t.

“He loves a girl, tries to take her away with him, gets caught and panics, starts killing anybody that calls him out. It’s pretty straight forward. Although, the way he’s killing them is unique. The actual crime seems rushed and panicked, but the killings themselves and calm and exact. One shot, the same place. It’s too… perfect.”

“He’s killed before,” you concluded, feeling your heart racing as you thought of more victims at the hand of Jacob.

“Yes, but most likely in the military. These are execution style deaths. This M.O. is very specific to military personnel.”

“And you would be correct, boy genius,” Garcia shouted through the speaker on the desk, her voice scaring you slightly. “Jacob Lane was in the Air Force. He was deployed once to Iraq, he got back about six months and was recently relocated to Cincinnati.”

“So something must’ve happened between Emily and Jacob in the past, and when he moved back and saw her again, it must’ve been the trigger. Topped with PTSD, he could’ve easily snapped.”

“What exactly did he do in Iraq?”

“Ah, that is classified information, according to the US government. But no worries, nothing is too classified for me. Our buddy Jacob executed war criminals during his time overseas.”

“Well, that explains the M.O.,” you chuckled, running a hand through your hair, shaking your head in disgust.

“Other than that, he had a relatively normal life. Average in school, normal family. He bounced around colleges a bit before deciding to enlist, but there’s no red flags.”

“Could you find any other link between him and Emily?”

“Well, that’s the other thing. Jacob deleted all of his social media accounts when he got back from Iraq. Twitter, Instagram… everything, gone. But, just because he deleted it does not mean the record doesn’t exist somewhere. I am currently trying to unlock all of his accounts and see if I can find anything, but it’ll take a bit.”

“Alright, Garcia, call us if you get anything. Thank you,” you replied, disconnecting the call. Spencer had stepped away for a moment, answering his phone.

“If this guy had a perfectly normal life, why is he doing this?” You asked, your nails digging into your palms in frustration.

“The military… doing what he did… it could mess a lot of normal people up. Plus, there may be more to the story than we know.”

“Yeah, there is. Listen to this,” Spencer said, walking into the room and putting his phone on speaker.

“Hey, it’s me,” JJ said, her voice flowing softly through the phone. “So we talked to the boyfriend, and there is a long history between Emily and Jacob. They met when she was 18, and they were both dating different people. They had apparently had an affair of sorts, though, leading Jacob to break up with his girlfriend for her. But apparently Emily decided to stay with her boyfriend and ditch Jacob. That’s when he joined the military. Before he left for training camp, Emily’s boyfriend committed suicide. Blamed Emily and Jacob for ruining his life.”

“Jesus…” you muttered under her breath.

“Well, it gets more interesting. Emily picked up and moved to Florida, after that, transferring to a college down there. She was apparently trying to start over. Her and Jacob didn’t talk for two years, but he was relocated to the same town she was in, and they met up again. They started dating, and that’s when he got deployed. About a month after he left, Emily claimed he started acting really weird, to the point where it was scaring her. She broke up with him and blocked him on all social media.”

“The boyfriend knew all of this?”

“She told him because apparently she was afraid of Jacob. She told her boyfriend that if something ever happened to her, she was sure it was Jacob.”

“Why wouldn’t he have mentioned something sooner?”

“He didn’t think it was a big deal. Plus, until two weeks ago, he was living in Florida.”

“Exactly. And he got moved here, found out Emily was here and had a boyfriend, and that was probably the trigger.”

“What I don’t understand is how Emily just… dropped him? She was clearly terrified of him, what could he have possibly done to give her that reaction?”

“He could have told her what he was doing down there. That job is not for someone with a soft heart. She probably couldn’t stomach the thought of being with a man who…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, your mouth choking up your words as they tried to come up.

“We need to make a statement to the press. The public needs to know who to look for.”

“I’ll call the media and put together a press conference. I’ll see you guys soon.” JJ hung up, and Spencer put his phone away. The three of you stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other in awe as your minds wrapped around the information. Part of you felt bad for him. He joined the military to get away, and they stuck him in a job that ruined his humanity. And the girl you love turns away from you when you need her most…

“The hardest part of the job is not to feel bad for the unsubs,” you laughed, your mouth dry and your forehead sweating as you felt more and more anxious about the future of this case.

“It’s refreshing, actually. To see someone else with enough empathy to feel for someone who has done so many bad things. It’s a sign of a beautiful heart,” Spencer said, his eyes meeting yours as he spoke. You smiled at him, redness creeping up your cheeks as you felt your nerves tingling at his words.

“Oh, I’m sure Spencer thinks about your beautiful heart all the time, (Y/N),” Derek teased, causing Spencer to blush as well, and quickly dart his eyes away from you.

“No… c’mon Derek. Why do you have to turn everything into this? Can’t I just be nice to her!” Spencer groaned, pushing Derek slightly on the arm in frustration.

“We’ve got a problem,” Det. Guthrie yelled, bursting through the door of the conference room and, thankfully, interrupting Derek.

“What’s wrong?”

“Emily escaped. She just walked into the police station.”

“How is that a problem?”

“Because Jacob just shot up another place. A diner, this time. We just got the call a minute ago. We’re only a few minutes away. He must’ve come back to the city after Emily got away.”

“(Y/N), you and Reid go to the crime scene. I’m going to stay here and talk to Emily.”

“Alright, we’ll leave now, call us if you need anything.”

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The drive was quick, helped greatly by the use of your sirens. You sped quickly to the diner, you and Reid the first to arrive on the scene. The witness who had called it in greeted you with sobs, not having time to console her as the two of you went quickly inside. The scene was similar to the previous ones, eight bodies, all shot directly in the center of the head. You noticed something wrong, pretty quickly.

“Reid…” you whispered, staring quietly at a table next to you.

“What’s up?”

“Do you see that?” You pointed helplessly to a small plate accompanied with an ever smaller cup, stars and smiley faces printed onto it.

“That’s a kids meal.”

“There’s not a kid in here, Reid.” You looked at him nervously, your whole body burning as you imagined the child that Jacob took.

“There’s a note here, (Y/N)...” Reid handed a crumpled napkin with a sloppy note written across it.

“Is it an address?”

“It’s definitely the unsubs handwriting. I studied the previous note, there’s no doubt he wrote this.”

“This address is only a few minutes away…”

“We need to leave, now. I’ll call Hotch and tell him to send backup.” Reid ran out of the diner and to the car, and you followed behind quickly. Other cops were now pulling in to the crime scene, and you let them know you were leaving but to stay with the bodies and take care of calling the families. You still weren’t sure who in there had a kid, and you wanted to notify the rest of the family if you could.

You and Spencer called Hotch in the car, letting him know where you were headed. He told you him and Rossi would be there in twenty minutes or so. Spencer was swerving in and out of traffic, trying to get to the location the unsub left for you. When you finally arrived, you were surprised to find a secluded barn near a small patch of land. You pulled up and got out of the car, arming yourselves as you got near the building.

“We should wait for backup, Reid… this could be a trap…” you said with caution, a wave of nerves flooding you as you stood in front of the building.

“He could have a little kid in there, (Y/L/N)... we have to go in.”

“Spencer, you know that’s not the right protocol.”

“When has protocol ever done us any good?”

Spencer starting walking towards the door, and you couldn’t bear to see him go in alone. You followed reluctantly, walking through the open door. As soon as you walked through the doors, you saw him. The face in the photos was finally right in front of you, holding a small item in his hands. You couldn’t make out what it was, you were too focused on the boy, who was tied to a chair next to him.

“Hello, agents. Thank you for joining me,” Jacob said, smiling devilishly at the two of you.

“You need to let the boy go, Jacob,” you instructed, your voice remain quiet and calm and your mind spun in circles.

“That’s not how this is going to go. Do you know what this is?” He waved the device in his hands, smiling down proudly at it. You knew then exactly what he was holding in his hands.

“It’s a bomb…”

“Exactly. And if I don’t get exactly what I want, it’s going to detonate. Are we clear?” He looked at you specifically, as if he was nervous you would be the one to try and defy him.

“Yes,” Spencer answered for you, looking upset as he realized you were right. This was a trap, one that the two of you walked so easily into.

“Put your weapons down, first,” he instructed, pointing at your guns. The two of you placed them down on the ground slowly, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Wonderful. Now, I want you to call your boss and tell him I would like to speak with him.”

You nodded in agreeal, slowly pulling out your phone. You dialed Hotch’s number, your hands shaking as you pressed the buttons. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode, bringing the phone to your ear as you listened to it ring.

“We’re almost there, what’s going on?” His voice made you feel safe, calm, knowing he would get you out of there safely. He had to get you out. You couldn’t die… not here… not now.

“Hotch, we’re here with Jacob, and he’d like to talk to you,” you said shakily, your voice trembling as you got the words out.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

You handed Jacob the phone, which he ripped out of your hand and placed to his own ear.

“Listen carefully. I want her back. I want a plane out of here for both of us, or I blow the kid and your two agents up? Is that understood?” You strained hard to see if you could hear Hotch’s voice, but you couldn’t make anything out. You looked over to Spencer, who was staring helplessly at the ground.

You didn’t bother listening to the rest of Jacob’s conversation with Hotch, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. It was you sick to think about him. When he finally finished, he threw the phone back at you. He walked up to you, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your face back to look at him.

“It would be a shame to kill you… You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, smiling down at you. He pulled hard on your hair, knocking you to the ground with all of his force. You slammed onto the dirt hard, feeling your body jolt as you landed. You felt pain shoot through your body, screaming loudly.

“Don’t touch her again!” Spencer yelled, running towards him violently. Jacob pulled a gun and pointed it at his head, which made him stop in his tracks.

“Don’t take another step. Since you want to be her knight in shining armor so bad, why don’t you go ahead and tie her up,” Jacob instructed, pointing the gun at a pile of rope in the corner. Spencer walked slowly over to it, grabbing the rope and tying your hands behind your back. As he tightened the knot, he whispered to you quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words bouncing back and forth in your head as Jacob pushed you to the ground and continued to tie up Spencer. After he finished, he sat Spencer next to you. He had put the two of you in the corner, out of sight and mind. You were aggravating Jacob, you could tell. If he could just tie you up and place you in the corner, he wouldn’t have anything to throw him off.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispered, looking concerned at your now bruising body.

“A little sore, but I’ll be fine. What are we gonna do here, Spence?”

“The team will get us out, okay. I promise.”

You watched Jacob on the other side of the room, pacing slowly as he awaited another call that would give him his demands. You started to hear the sound of sirens pull up, feeling slightly relieved knowing they were right outside those walls. The sound of helicopters overhead was prominent, and you noticed Jacob wincing as it got louder.

“Does the sound of helicopters bother you?” You shouted to him, trying to get his attention away from the boy.

“Shut up! Do I need to tape your mouth shut, too?” He was aggravated, waving his gun around and placing a hand on his head.

“My dad was in the Army… helicopters reminded him of his time overseas. He’d have a panic attack every time he heard one…” You said, trying to relate to him. If you couldn’t use force to bring him down, maybe you could sympathize with him.

“It’s just so loud…” he winced, closing his eyes as if all of his senses were betraying him.

“Let me talk to my boss, if he knew how much they hurt you I bet he’d call them off…”

Jacob considered your proposal for a moment, the idea of the pain going away calling to him. But he was smart, and realized quickly what was going on.

“Are you trying to trick me? Do you think you can outsmart me? I have been ahead of you this entire time.”

“Except you didn’t plan on Emily’s boyfriend coming home early, and you didn’t plan on her escaping, did you? None of this was a part of the plan.” Spencer looked at him desperately, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and feel him holding you. If you were to die here, today, it would be nice to die in the arms of someone you cared about. You desperately craved his touch, especially now. Who knows if this would be your last chance to experience him?

“All I want is for me and Emily to be together, okay? Don’t you get that? Have you ever been in love?”

“I have… and I know how much you love Emily. But if you kill us, you’ll be killing yourself, too. And then Emily will never get to hear how you really feel. Because that’s what all of this is about, right? You just want her to know how you feel?”

“I told her everything. I bore everything to her and she walked away. It… hurt.” Jacob was crying, tears crawling down his face as he shook the gun in his hand.

“I don’t want to die without telling the girl I love how I feel. I know you don’t, either, Jacob. We can all walk out of here and you can see her again.” Spencer looked at you, his eyes pleading for your attention as he spoke.

“I don’t want to get locked up, I can’t live like that…” Jacob continued to cry, and you desperately wanted to give him a hug. He was evil, and you despised him, but he was broken and alone and needed a hug.

“No, no. I am not letting you talk me into this… you both shut up and leave me alone!” He yelled, running away from you and back to the young boy. You let out a long sigh, feeling your own tears starting to form. You really thought you might’ve had him this time. But he was too smart, and he wouldn’t fall for any of your tricks.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should be able to save you, and I can’t…” Spencer was pale, his forehead sweating as he leaned against the wall.

“Spencer, don’t apologize. It is nobody's job to take care of me, except myself.”

“I don’t want to die in here without telling you how I feel, (Y/N).”

“What are you talking about, Spence?”

“I am crazy about you. I have been in love with you for months. And every time I think I might want to say something, Derek makes some stupid joke and you get awkward and I realize if I say anything I’d risk our friendship but I’m sorry, I can’t die here with you and not tell you I’m in love with you.”

“Spencer…” was the only thing you managed to get out. You opened your mouth to try to say more, but the sound of your cell phone ringing stopped you. Jacob ran quickly to the phone, picking it up and placing it on speaker. He looked at you to make sure you were listening. He wanted you to know your entire lives depended on whatever happened on this one phone call.

“Jacob?” A small female voice came on the line, one that you had not recognized. “Jacob, it’s me, it’s Emily.”

“Emily!” He cried, placing a hand over his heart as he heard her voice.

“Jacob, I am right outside for you. I promise we can walk away together if you just leave your weapons inside and come out.” You could hear the pain in her voice and she said those words, knowing how hard it must’ve been for her to do this. But she was the only thing that could end this, that could save four lives. She didn’t have a choice.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You ran away from me, Emily!” Jacob cried into the phone, his voice shaky and his face swollen from tears.

“I have always loved you, Jacob. I have told you everything. You have to believe me. I’m right on the other side of the door. Put down the weapons and show them you’re unarmed, and we can walk away together.”

You watched him closely, patiently waiting for his response. You had never been a religious person, but you prayed to whoever was listening that you could walk away from this.

“Spencer… if we don’t make it out, I want you to know I love you, too. And if we do get out of here, please take me far away from here,” you cried, leaning your head on his shoulder and begging the universe for your life. He kissed the top your head, a small comfort that calmed you down. You watched Jacob slowly look over at the two of you, staying as close as you could, savoring love even in the last moments of your life.

You think it was that moment, him seeing two people in love and remembering what it felt like, that caused him to walk out. He slowly set the gun down, and another small device that you believed was the detonator. He walked through the doors, the sound of a bullet crunching through the air immediately as he stepped outside. You heard the screams of a girl, who was probably dealing with love and loss and pain all in one second, watching the man she loved and feared dying in front of her own eyes.

SWAT and the Bomb Squad came in shortly after, JJ and Derek running in to find the two of you. Emily and Rossi took care of the child as the other two untied you. They walked you outside, JJ pulling you far from Spencer and into an ambulance.

“JJ, I promise I’m fine, but I really need to go see Spencer…” You tried to stand up and walk past her, but you were a little dizzy and she pushed you back down pretty quickly. You saw Spencer arguing with Derek as well, probably for the same reason you were trying to push through JJ.

“Can I take your blood pressure, Agent?” The paramedic said, holding up an arm band and trying to wrap it around you. You angrily refused, finally getting on your feet and walking away from JJ. She realized it wasn’t worth chasing you down, that you would get checked out when you were good and ready.

You ran towards Spencer, who was still being blocked by Derek. You pushed passed cops and paramedics and everything in between, your eyes only on the man you loved. The man who loved you. When you finally got to him, he wrapped his arms around you in relief. He held you for a moment, before letting go and kissing you. It was a kiss full of life, celebrating existence and love.

“Hah, friendly my ass…” Derek whispered, rolling his eyes as he walked away from the two of you.

“Take me away from here, Spencer Reid.”

“Wherever you wanna go.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader

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ssa-sugar-tits · 4 years

Text

queen of hearts // chapter five

prologue + series masterlist & taglist

content warnings : hostage situation, guns, strong language, angst, sexual mentions

a/n : reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know are experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

SPENCER'S POV

"Prentiss." Emily answers her phone through gritted teeth. Garcia's typing away on her laptop and I'm pacing the room, not even trying to hide that I'm falling apart anymore. I can't think straight. Any useful thoughts I do have get thrown in my own mental garbage anyway before I can process them. Rossi had joined Hotch, JJ, and Morgan patrolling the area but there's no sign of Y/N yet. There's been an APB put out on the victim, who friends ID'd as Chris Lincoln, and his car. I shouldn't be feeling this, but I'm half hoping she isn't apprehended. But I also want to see her again.

"Hold on Hotch, I'm putting you on speaker. You've got me, Garcia, and Reid."

"A 911 call came in from a gas station mini mart 4 minutes ago. Y/N is holding 8 hostages and SWAT has surrounded the area but she's refusing negotiations."

Garcia mouths 'oh my god' to herself and Emily jumps out of her seat.

"D-Do you need us to come down?"

Say yes. Please.

"Yes, I've sent you all the address."

"Ok we're on our way."

"Emily."

"Yes?"

"Reid is going to be the one negotiating."

My eyes shoot up and I'm at a loss for words. I'm not only going to see her again, I'm going to talk her down and arrest her. And I don't know if I have it in me to do this.

I step out of the SUV and Emily walks to the team with such determination that officers turn to watch her stride. On the other hand, I feel like I'm going to collapse as I run over to them.

"She's inside?" Emily asks.

Rossi nods and Hotch briefs us on the situation. Morgan looks at me as if he's silently asking, Can you do this? I send a look that tells him I can and he nods. JJ tries to give me a smile as I prep to talk to Y/N but all that really comes out is a half assed attempt. Hotch's emotionless voice blares over a megaphone they're using.

"Y/N. You can talk to Dr. Reid. That's what you want isn't it? Pick up the phone so we can talk about what you're doing."

It rings. Everyone looks to me and my hand humiliates me by trembling as I pick it up.

"This is Spencer Reid."

I can hear her let out a light gasp, as if in disbelief.

"S-Spence?"

Her voice calms the dread I'm feeling and I have to stop myself from telling her I love her. I shouldn't have to stop myself, she's a killer.

"Yeah. It's me Y/N."

She whispers, "Oh my god... oh my fucking god."

I'm supposed to ask her to come out, let the hostages go, and find out where Chris Lincoln is. But I don't.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I come inside the store?"

She pauses to think about it and the whole team shoots daggers at me silently asking what the hell I'm doing. After a few moments she answers me.

"Yes. But just you. No vest, no gun. We're just going to talk."

"Ok."

As soon as I hang up everyone clamors at me but Hotch stops them all and tells me, "Go. You'll wear a wire and SWAT will be ready to move."

Morgan swears under his breath and walks off, clearly not wanting me to go in and Rossi walks after him, probably to talk to him.

"Y/N won't hurt me. I know she won't."

"She's doing all of this because of you Reid! You're the source of her anger." JJ, always the protector.

Emily cuts in. "Y/N won't. The profile says she will but this is Y/N. She isn't just a profile, we know her. You gotta trust us on this."

JJ starts to say something again but Hotch doesn't let her.

"If you're doing this, you need to do it now."

I nod and put my gun down, while putting on my wire.

"And Reid?"

"Yeah Hotch?"

"Be careful."

There's a sincerity in his voice that I can't help but combat out of anxiety.

"Technically even if I am careful, she's the one with the gun and hostages so there's a pretty high chance I'll end up injured or-"

"Just go." He sighs.

"R-Right sorry."

I walk in and she's holding a gun to a woman's head. It takes everything in me not to run to her and feel her touch. Despite the situation, her face softens like icing and she smiles at me. She's clearly scared and she's gripping the gun so tight that blood is rushing to and reddening her knuckles, but she's still beautiful.

"Hey Y/N."

"Stay there. Don't fucking move."

She's trying to intimidate me but her voice shakes and I can't help but smile.

"What the fuck are you smiling at? I've killed 104 people-- no, 105. The guy I shot stopped breathing a while ago. Either way I'm not your pretty girlfriend anymore Doctor Reid."

Doctor Reid. She used to tease me and call me that. But it isn't a sweet or sexy gesture anymore, it's a damn formality.

"You can still let these people go and turn yourself in Y/N. It's oka-"

She cuts me off and yells.

"Stop. Stop." She shakes her head and winces. "Just stop! I was in the BAU, right? You're fucking profiling me. Don't..." Her voice cracks helplessly and it breaks my heart. "Don't profile me."

"Can I please come closer?" I hear a scoff on the other line of the wire and the sound of something being thrown down, which I'm assuming is Morgan.

"No. I'm calling the shots, ok?"

Letting go of the hostage, she points the gun at me and starts walking towards me.

"Go! Everyone except Doctor Reid. Get the hell out."

Her gun is still pointed at me and hostages run out of the store.

"Take your shirt off."

It's not what I expected her to say and I furrow my eyebrows but comply. Y/N looks me up and down and bites her lip before taking another step towards me. The cold gun presses against my chest and she looks into my eyes. Her eyes sparkle and I can see how exhausted she is. Fear hides behind her somehow collected face and all I want is to press my lips against hers. Yes, she's holding a gun to my chest but I don't care. I just want to hold her.

"What's your plan here? Are you going to shoot me Y/N?"

"Shut up." Again wincing and shaking her head aggresively, she changes her mind.

Is she okay?

"N-No don't shut up."

What?

"Y/N are you in pain? Do you need help?"

"I'm fine! Just... talk to me. About anything. No..." Another furious head shake and more pained expressions. "Tell me about... there's an intern, isn't there? You guys are still looking for my replacement. Tell me about her."

What is she doing?

It dawns upon me.

She misses me as much as I miss her. She really does just want to hear my voice again.

"Uh. She mostly observes and fills out paperwork. Her name is Milan Wu, she worked a year in-"

"Ugh stop."

I gulp and stop talking.

"Is she pretty? Come on Spence, I don't want to know her history." A laugh escapes from her throat and a tear from her eyes. "No, I want to know who you're sleeping with now. I heard Maeve died. So it's not her. Is it this Milan lady? Someone else?"

The team is still listening. Shit.

"Y/N I haven't uh... been with anyone since you left."

She rolls her eyes at me in turn.

"Why not? You're attractive, we both know that. And clearly you didn't fucking love me. So what's stopping the pretty doctor from getting laid?"

Now it's my turn to spit out a hurt laugh, something she's always specialized at.

"Y/N are you serious?"

"Do I fucking look like I'm joking?"

No. She doesn't. But how could she ever think I don't love her?

"Of course I loved you. Hell, I still love you. I think about you everyday, I fantasize about what could have happened if I hadn't made such a stupid decision. I- I was going to propose to you. Before Maeve. Before... everything. I wanted- God, I still want- children and a life with you. I fucked up and I'm so sorry. And yes, you're going to walk out of here in handcuffs because I have to do my job. Believe me, I understand that you hate me but I swear to you I have and always will love you."

The gun falls out of her hand, slipping and thudding and she's sobbing.

"Reid? What's going on in there?"

I ignore Hotch and run to her side. Wrapping her arms around me, I don't know if I'm imagining it but I think I heard her say, "I love you too."

"Don't send anyone in yet, stand down."

Her broken eyes meet mine again and she whispers,

"I'm ready."

The handcuffs are in my hand and I place them on her wrists gently, careful not to hurt her. When she stands, I guide her out of the store and into a police car. I watch as she meets the eyes of each member of our team, tears and makeup still falling from her lovely face. SWAT puts her in the car to transfer her to interrogation. Without a sound, she closes her eyes, no longer resisting her fate. And I'm already agonizing to see her again.

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