#she got shot in the eye by a cop years ago and she's not gonna be okay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shujohajohaminnie · 1 year ago

Text

Mine

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count:2771

Summary: What happens when there's a serial killer in love with you who will kill anyone who’s near you.

Afab!reader, Profanity, Dark Concepts, Talks of murder, Blood, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, pet names, Raw Sex. Let me know if I miss anything.

“Okay, so what do we know so far” “Whoever the killer is, is in love with y/n” “Oh my god, not this again” “WHAT IT’S TRUE” “Ji do you have any proof” “Well everyone who either slept with y/n, tired to get with y/n or has a thing-” “Had” “As I was saying… had a thing for y/n is now… dead” “That’s purely coincidental” “Is it?” “Yes, it is… and if that was the case why the hell is Chan in the hospital right now” “I mean, even I thought Chris was into you” “Well he isn’t” You rolled your eyes laying back down on the couch your phone in hand. “Okay so let's make a list of people in love with y/n” “Okay first one… that weird kid from her English class, that’s always following her around… what's his name” “Dae” Jisung sapped his fingers writing the name on the board in big bold font. “Who’s next” “ Add Johnny” “Sorry to break it hon… but that piece of shit you call a boyfriend does not love you” “Yes he does” “No… he doesn’t” “Hiah” Hyunjin yelled jumping in his seat from excitement, he loved to play detective. “Think you missed a chapter Jinnie… he’s already dead” “Really” “Mhmm knife to the face” “Gross”. “Can we stop” “What” “Doing this… we’re not the cops, Plus it’s just weirding me out” “She’s right we should drop it” “Jeongin” “Hmmm?” “Add Jeongin to the list” “Come on you can’t be serious” “Of course we’re not being serious, it’s Jeongin were talking about. He could barely kill a spider, but it’s just because he’s madly in love with you…so if I were you innie, I’d be careful” “Is that a threat, are you the killer Hannie” “Puh-lease… you wish I was obsessed with you” “Whatever, I’m gonna go” “What where” “To my room calm down mom. I have to start getting ready for the party”. “You aren’t serious right” “Yeah… why” “Maybe because there's a killer out there taregting us” “Well Ji… if we're going based on your theory, the killer is only going for people in love with me. So you guys are safe” You laughed before closing your bedroom door excited to attend the hottest party of the year. Was it the smartest idea? No, but you were dumb college kids, not every idea that you and your group of friends came up with was the brightest.

“I don’t think this is a good idea” Jisung looked down at the ground nervously “Han everything will be fine, we’ve got a black belt with us and buff daddy Changbin for security” “We said the killer is in love with y/n right” “Yes” “No” “Well he, or she might be in the room with us right now” “Thank you Hyunjin for that inclusivity” Your newest friend rolled her eyes at Hyunjins subtle, not so subtle ‘look’ shot directly at her. “But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not the killer” “Mhmm… I’m not buying it” “If you’re so sure it’s me why don’t you tell the police so they can arrest me” “I’ve tried that, they said there's no evidence” “BECAUSE IT’S NOT ME” “Guys guys stop… Jinnie, I love you but it’s not Joon, don’t you remember she was attacked too” “It just seems perfectly planned that she was there when Chan almost got killed and she ended up with only a paper cut on her arm” “IT WASN’T A PAPER CUT, I ALMOST LOST MY ARM” “Yeah right. I’ve got my eyes on you new girl” “Jinnie just cause you're dressed up like Sherlock Holmes doesn’t mean you have the detective skills” “Pfttt speak for yourself” “Didn’t you guess the killer was someone who died three weeks ago” “Way to go detective” Joon laughed interlocking your hands and walking you out the door. You pulled down your ghost face mask and walked out of the building towards the blasting music coming from the on-campus frat house.

The night was only getting more interesting as the students continued to drink. “Hey where's your little boyfriend” “With his friends” You nodded in the direction of your boyfriend with his two closest friends. “Doesn’t it bother you that he only hangs out with them two, I mean they’re kinda known for sleeping around” “No” Of course it bothered you that your boyfriend only hung out with the two prettiest sluttiest girls on campus. “Come on don’t lie to me” “Fine Lee it does bug me, but what am I supposed to do just tell them to back off” “Yes, that's exactly what you need to do” Felix interrupted Lee Know handing you and Han a cup. “What the hell is this” Han recoiled after smelling the mystery beverage. “Jungle Juice… it’s so good” “Absolutely not” he shook his head taking your cup and placing it down on the table along with his and Minho’s. “How many have you had” “Two” “Oh that's not bad” “Two red cups and two blue cups” “Well there goes our black belt” “Hey I have a reason” “And what’s that Yongbook” “Shit he’s mad mad” “The red cups are if you think we're going to win the game on Friday, the blue is if we're going to lose… so I’m staying neutral” “And you couldn’t just drink two” “Well I could’ve but then I wanted a third and I needed to balance it out… but I’m not the worst one guess how much Binnie’s had” “Five?” “Eight… he’s also staying neutral” He motioned over to Chagbin who was passed out on the couch. “Great not only have we lost our black belt but he lost our big boy Binnie” “Han it’s going to be fine, just chill out” “Chill out…. CHILL OUT, I CAN’T CHILL OUT WHEN I COULD DIE” “Then die knowing you had a good time instead of worrying. You wanna hit of this to calm down” “NO” He yelled snatching the blunt out of Lee Know’s hand, and tossing it who knows where. “That’s a hazard” “Guys… we need to be on high alert” You groaned resting your head on Lee Know’s shoulder while Jisung proceeded to lecture the three of you on your carelessness in the current situation. “Ji Ji calm down we’ll be fine there are so many people around us I seriously doubt the killer whoever she is-” “IT’S NOT ME” “Is going to strike right now” Hyunjin smiled wrapping his arm around Jisung’s shoulder trying to calm down your anxious friend. “And how many did you have” “This is my first one” “Jin” “Fine it’s my sixth one… but it doesn’t hit til your 5th one I swear” “Well like I was saying we shouldn’t be drinking because we need to be paying attention just in case who ever it is, is here” “Who’s here” Jeongin joined the group with a water bottle in hand. “Good job I.N staying sober I like it” “Who’s here” Seungmin asked joining the group discussion in the kitchen. “The masked crusader” Lee Know laughed wiggling his fingers towards Jisung. “Isn’t that Batman?” “Well if Batman’s here there's nothing to worry about” “Guysssss” Han whined

“Okay never have I ever tried to seduce a teacher for a higher grade” You clinked cups with Hyunjin while you took a sip of your drink with a smile. “Who?” “Professor Choi” “Is that why he’s dead” “Mhmm… you know what guys I have just come to realize that I’m going to end up single for life if there's a killer going after anyone and everyone that wants me” “Well that got depressing” “Shut up bitch” “GUYS GUYS” Han ran towards the couch where you all were sitting down. “I saw someone else here with a ghost face costume that could be the killer” “Ji calm down hon… that’s just Johnny we did couple costumes this year” “Yeah along with half of the other students here” “I have an idea” “WE SHOULD STICK TOGETHER” Changbin laughed in your lap nuzzling closer and closer to you while he drifted off to sleep yet again. “He’s gonna end up dead” Lee Know laughed looking at the subtle affection you were giving your best friend. I mean after all, all Chan had to do to end up on the killer's hit list was give you a ride home from a party, now here Binnie was cuddling you. “No, I was going to say we should split up-” “and look for clues.” “Yeah okay, shaggy” “Han you do know that's how people end up dead right” “Yeah man splitting up is a no for me” “You can count me out, I’m going to stay right here where I’m safe” “Don’t worry y/n I’ll stay here with you” “Aww true love… y/n when are you going to leave Johnny and date our little Innie” “In-ah being with me is going to get you killed” “No it won’t that’s a stupid theory” “It’s not stupid it’s real” “I still think we should look for clues” “I think we should let the cops handle it and live our fucking lives… it’s Halloween we should be having fun” “Having fun?” “Yes drinking, dancing, smoking, and having meaningless sex” “I don’t think you could have meaningless sex even if you wanted to Jinnie” “Yeah didn't you fall in love with your last sneaky link and were forced to end it” “Okay fuck you” “No fuck you what the fuck” “Guys guys should we leave early or no?” “No” “Everyone in favor of leaving early says I” Silence of course. “Don’t worry Hannie we’re here”

And you were, you and the boys stayed on that couch stuck at each other's hip for about an hour after that conversation. That was until you saw a familiar somebody walking towards you. You checked his shoes to make sure it was really him. “Hey” You smiled looking up at him. He extended his gloved hand out for you to take not saying a word. “What?” You asked taking his hand, he pulled you up signaling you to the restroom. You smiled walking away when a hand held you back. “Do you really want to have drunk sex with your shitty boyfriend in the Kappa restroom” “Yes now shut up and stick together before Jisung loses it again” “Y/n you can’t leave what if he gets you” “You said it yourself Ji, If the killer’s in love with me, he wouldn’t hurt me”

But of course not even Jisung was sure about that. Jimmy pushed you up against the door sliding his hand up your thigh towards your heat. You sighed throwing your head back as you felt him take off his gloves. His long fingers beginning to draw circles on your clit. Wait long fingers? “J-Johnny… take off your mask I want to see you” No answer you reached your hand up in an attempt to take off the mask yourself, but he moved his head away from you. "Come on Johnny take off the mask I'm serious" "I'm not Johnny" You looked down at his left sleeve that held your waist against the door, you noted the way the material looked darker than the rest. You looked at your hip noticing the red trail staining your skin. "What the fuck... is that blood?". He pulled off his mask to reveal Jeongin with his sly smirk. “Jeongin what the fuck wheres Johhny” “In one of the bedrooms upstairs with his throat slit” “I told you to wait for me Jeongin I wanted to see his fucking face” “Baby but-” “No honey, I was going to lead him in here, you were going to hide behind the curtain and when I shut the door I was going stab him and then you were going to finish him off that was the plan” “I know I know baby, but if it makes you feel better I passed down your message” “It does… so how was it” “Just like you thought it was going to be …he cried and begged for his life” “Good, fucking asshole” You laughed throwing your head back as he continued with his previous movements. You moved the costume gown up unbucking his pants. You couldn’t wait anymore you needed him. You needed him ever since he was in your apartment when you were getting ready, but you couldn’t not with the boys there. It would blow your cover. You had a plan and you were going to stick to it. They were going to find Johnny, you were going to mourn and in your mourning Jeongin was going to ‘comfort’ you, giving you two the perfect excuse for getting together.

You wrapped your leg around his waist leading him into your heat. “I told you not to go for Chan” You moaned feeling the all-familiar stretch. You didn’t feel bad for sleeping with Jeongin while being Johnny. You weren’t cheating on him in your head you were over since the moment he cheated on you with his ‘friends’. You wanted to dump him, but that's when Jeongin came to you with the wonderful idea to pay him back for the pain he had caused you, caused his pretty girl. “He was all over you” Jeongin groaned beginning to slide in and out of you “Plus I wasn’t going to kill him, it was just a warning” he grunted pulling down your dress straps to release your tits for its confinement. “He was just giving me a ride Jeongin, he wouldn’t have to if you had your license”. You moaned as you felt him begin to kiss down your jaw to your chest. Taking one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth. He rolled the other in between his fingers driving you absolutely insane. “You know why I don’t have it” he whispered pulling his hand away from your breast and dragging it down to your clit drawing figure eights on it once again. “Yeah because you’re so busy slicing anyone that gets close to me” You moaned grabbing his forearm as he increased his speed. Only your two could have a full-blown argument in the middle of having sex. But you were in love, a love so toxic, that you felt like you were being suffocated when around each other. But when you two were apart it felt like you were being torn apart limb by limb. It was a love that you both couldn’t let go. You felt yourself reach closer and closer analyzing the words he was saying to you. He would do something that was so illegal, just for you. You tightened around him feeling that oh-so-familiar feeling in your lower stomach. “Jeongin I’m I’m” “I’m protecting you” He grunted thrusting into you once more before you felt him paint your walls in white. You cummed around his cock hearing those last words. You’ve never been with someone who loved you the way that he did. He sighed pulling away from the crook of your neck to look at you. “I love you”. He whispered stroking your cheek. He didn’t stop thrusting into you, fucking you through both of your orgasms. “I love you too” You moaned kissing his lips while you wrapped your arms around him. Now that you had him you weren’t going to let go.

You took your previous spot on the couch going on your phone. “Oh, so we're not going to talk about it” “Talk about what” “How you just had sex with your boyfriend and how you’re just sitting here like he didn’t just fill you up” “Changbin” Felix cringed hearing your friends out loud thought. “We didn’t fuck, he just wanted to talk to me” “Is everything okay” Jisung looked at you worryingly. “Yeah we’re fine… just school stuff” You smiled wrapping your arms around him comforting, he shook his head backing away from you. “Nuh-uh, I don’t wanna die” “Don’t worry Hannie you’re not gonna die… I have a feeling we're done with all of this mystery killer crap”. You laughed watching as Jeongin joined the group again with a drink in hand, wearing his previous costume. It was all going according to plan.

#skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz x you #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin smut

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elizabethblake · 10 months ago

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That’s for me to know and for you to figure out - pt.11

Panic Imagine -- Dodge Mason x OC (Reese Silvers) -- pt.11

A girl from a wealthy family wants to get out of Carp just as much as everyone else. With the new guy in town, she seems to be a bit more distracted than she had hoped. And those who once were her friends just may be the ones who will throw her into the deep end. Will panic be what she hopes, or will she fall into the depths of deceit and lies?

“Luke Hall is taking bets on Panic. That’s why he’s back in town.” Heather said as she sat on my bed.

“To track the game?” I asked.

“Or to fix it.” She said.

“Fix it?” I asked.

“Reese think about it, he was at the jump last year. He graduated years ago, isn’t it a little bit weird that he comes back the same summer that two of the leading players die in like freak accidents? That really seems like one hell of a coincidence.” She said.

“Yeah, both Jimmy and Abby’s deaths are connected to the game, but if Luke is taking bets. Then maybe he’s connected to them too.” I said.

“Look, I gotta get home but I’ll call you later okay.” She said before leaving.

After Heather left I headed over to Dodge’s place. I walked up and knocked on the door.

“Hey can we talk?” I asked as he answered it.

“Sure, come in.” He said and we made our way to his room.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Heather says people are gambling on Panic.” I said.

“Some of them are putting $10,000, $20,000 on each challenge. They think Luke might be in charge.” I added.

“Hmm.” Dodge hummed.

“You’re not surprised.” I said.

“Because you knew didn’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Cortez suspected ever since he found out about Panic, but he didn’t know enough about the game or how it worked in order to build a case so um he needed a way in.” He said and I scoffed.

“So you’ve been helping him?” I asked.

“He wants Luke in jail. This is the only way.” He said.

“Oh okay, so what you’ve been like spying on us this whole time?” I asked.

“No, I’ve been trying to win.” He said.

“How does that help Cortez?” I asked.

“It’s not illegal to gamble in Texas okay. But it is a felony to be the house that’s how we’re going to catch him. If I win, we can prove that Luke is getting a kickback as the bookie. That’s what Cortez needs.” He said.

“So you’re doing this for revenge?” I asked.

“Cause Heather told me about your sister. I’m not mad that you lied to me, I’m just curious as to why you thought you couldn’t tell me. I told you everything about what happened and you still kept it from me. But it’s really none of my business I guess.” I said.

“I’m playing for Dayna.” He said.

“Yeah. I get that. But you lied Dodge, repeatedly. And I just. I can’t trust someone who lies.” I said as I turned around to leave.

“Reese.” He said.

“No. I’m out of Panic. I’m done, our alliance is over there’s nothing else to it.” I said.

“Really? Was sleeping with me just part of the alliance too?” He asked.

“No. And you know that. But this mess with Cortez, I don’t want any part of it. I’m trying to burn my broken bridges and go down with them and if any of this gets caught up with me it’s going to be a shit show. So I am sorry Dodge but I can’t have anything to do with Panic anymore.” I said before I left.

When I got home I noticed my brother’s car and made my way inside.

“Hey, didn’t think you’d be home.” I said.

“Yeah, haven’t been out much lately.” He said and there was a silent pause.

“Rhett, I’m out of Panic. I got eliminated.” I said, and his eyes shot up to meet mine.

“I swear to you, I’m gonna get the money. I will help you find a way.” I said and he only sighed.

“Reese, this isn’t your fight you need to quit trying so hard. I got us into this, you weren’t even supposed to be involved in this.” He said.

“But I am. And if you don’t find the money Rhett. He is gonna kill you.” I said.

“Maybe not.” He said.

“Maybe we could go to the cops see if Cortez can help.” He said.

“Thats a bad idea, the cops won’t help if they know why you were there and Cortez is dirty Rhett.” I said.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Cortez is trying to pin something on Luke, something big. But I know Luke didn’t do it.” I said.

“What?” He asked.

“On Halloween 3 years, Dodge’s sister was in a hit and run and it left her paralyzed. Cortez has Dodge convinced it was Luke who hit her but I know it wasn’t.” I said.

“I was with Ray on Halloween that year. It was freshman year, Ray wouldn’t shut up about how his brother was sitting in jail for some stupid thing that he did. But he was in jail, he wasn’t out roaming the streets and hitting people and driving off.” I said.

“So what? Maybe Cortez got it wrong.” Rhett said.

“Cortez would know Luke was in jail that night, he would’ve already looked into where he was. That would be the first thing, which means I think Cortez is dirty.” I said.

“Just stay out of it. Don’t get yourself caught Reese.” He said before leaving, but then stopped.

“Oh this letter was on the porch when I got home.” He said, picking up an envelope with my name written in bold and handed it to me.

“Thanks” I said, and he left the room. I opened the envelope and a paper was inside.

TUMBLEWEED MAZE 10PM. ASSIST DODGE IN HIS TASK RULES DOWN BELOW

“Shit.” I muttered.

I pulled up to the place around 9:45 pm and after about 10 minutes I saw Dodge’s car pull up.

“What the hell?” He asked as he got out of his car.

“You’re the welcome committee?” He asked.

“I guess so.” I said.

“At least you don’t have to pay for admission.” I added and began walking.

“Tumbleweed maze? I’m almost offended.” Dodge said.

“Judges...they’re looking for a specific key. Find it and you’re in. You have one hour. And keep it moving, because every minute you spend looking, well that’s just another point you won’t get.” I said.

“In three, two, one.” I counted down and he walked towards the barn.

The next morning we were told to meet at the motor lodge, when I pulled up I went inside and saw that most everyone was already there, I walked over and sat at the table with Heather.

“Hey.” I said.

“Hey.” She said.

“I’m sorry you got out.” She said.

“It’s all good, Sorry about you too.” I said.

“Friends, players, former contestants, the results of the individual challenges have been tallied. All the points have been scored. Shawna quit, so she’s out of the game. Dodge is in first place and will be heading to the Joust. The player competing against him is as yet undetermined.” Diggins said.

“What?! Why?” Ray asked.

“I mean I stayed long enough in that shithole cooler, didn’t I?” Ray asked.

“Not long enough to beat Dodge’s time” Summer said.

“The individual challenges aren’t done yet Ray. By order of the judges, Natalie Williams is disqualified for reasons of false representation and failure to complete the required challenges. As punishment the player’s points have been retroactively invalidated.” Diggins said.

“English please?” Drew asked.

“The judges wiped Natalies score because she cheated.” Diggins added and Ray laughed.

“She was never in Spurlock’s house. Shouldn’t have even made it to Graybill let alone the final four.” Diggins said.

“That’s, that’s bullshit. All right that’s hearsay” Nat said.

“True. We heard you say it.” Summer said.

“That’s a good one Summer.” Nat clapped back.

“No you admitted it in your video that you trapped me underground. That’s nowhere near the house, right?” Heather said.

“Plus someone ratted you out to the judges.” Diggins said.

“All right, fuck you guys.” Nat said before getting up and leaving.

“You were outside watching the house, Dodge covered for you.” Diggins said, and I turned to look at Dodge.

“What?” I whispered to Heather and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Wait hold on hold on hold on, wait a second. If Dodge helped Natalie get through the last challenge then why is he still playing?” Ray asked.

“Well he was stealing for two, lucky he didn’t get double the points.” Summer said and people started talking over each other.

“All right settle down, settle down. At the time of the judge’s selection of the Final Three, excluding Natalie, the players in order were Dodge, Ray, and Heather.” Diggins said, and I turned to look at heather with a open smile on my face.

“But Heather missed a challenge.” Drew said.

“Well she still has her immunity.” Summer said.

“Given that and Natalie’s disqualification, an exception has been made. Congratulations Heather, the judges ruled you may move on to your individual challenge. Good Luck.” Diggins said.

As we were leaving I walked out with Heather.

“Holy fucking shit. This is amazing.” I said to her.

“I’m so nervous.” She said.

“Heather this is your chance to win. You have to do everything you can.” I said.

“And I’m sorry about Nat. She’s a bitch.” I said which made her laugh a little.

“Looks like it’s down to you and me for joust.” Ray shouted, and I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll leave you to it.” I said to her as I walked away and headed home.

Later once I was home the doorbell rang and I went downstairs to get it.

“Dodge.” I said as I opened the door.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

“Sure.” I said.

“I’m sorry about before. I’m sorry we argued.” He said.

“It’s fine. Honestly don’t worry about it.” I said.

“I’m sorry Natalie screwed you over. I could’ve warned you on that part.” I said.

“Look I know you’re all set on trying to help Cortez take down Luke Hall but I think you’re exhausting your efforts.” I said.

“I didn’t come to talk about that.” He said as he walked closer to me as I leaned against the counter in the kitchen.

“Looking back on it, we never really had an alliance did we?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“You were always working with Natalie. Trying to get ahead, but I didn’t know. So we never really had an alliance because I couldn’t really trust you even if I didn’t know it.” I said.

“Did you ever really like me? Or was it a ploy?” I asked.

“Reese I never would have planned out to get close to you and sleep with you to get an advantage over you in Panic.” He said, sounding a bit hurt that I would suggest that.

“You suggested it at one point.” I said.

“I didn’t mean it.” He said.

“I know.” I said.

“You know, I really did like you Dodge. A lot.” I said.

“Did? As in you don’t anymore.” He said, twisting his lips to the side.

“So much has happened in so little time, this summer has been crazy but the one thing i’ve managed to keep constant is you.” I said.

“So no Dodge I didn’t sleep with you because of our alliance, I didn’t just magically erase the feelings I have for you, but things are crazy and if we aren’t on the same page. We cannot do this.” I said.

“How do we get on the same page Reese? I’m trying.” He said.

“Cortez is dirty. Plain and simple, you cannot trust him.” I said.

“I’ll keep my eye out I promise.” He said.

“And from now on, I’ll tell you everything going on, no more secrets.” He said.

“Good.” I said, I then leaned in and kissed him, running my hand to the back of his neck. His hand snaked around my waist as he pulled me into him. I broke the kiss only a moment to speak.

“My brother is home just so you know to keep the volume down to a minimum.” I said, lacing my fingers with his I lead him upstairs and into my room.

I slipped on my shirt and pants as Dodge put his on.

“You know Joust is like a big thing in Panic.” I said, sitting back down on the bed and facing him.

“I know.” He said.

“I’m worried.” I said.

“I am too.” He stated, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand.

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll meet up with you later okay?” He asked.

“Okay.” I said with a smile and he leaned down to kiss me before heading out the door and downstairs to leave.

After a little while, I heard arguing through the floor and I went out to see what was going on.

“Do you know how dangerous this is Rhett? You could be killed, you could get your sister killed for god’s sake.” I heard my dad shout.

“Dad?” I asked as I made my way downstairs.

“Reese, why didn’t you tell me about any of this? This is crazy you know better, you both know better.” He snapped.

“Dad I can explain.” I said softly.

“So you do know how bad this is.” He said.

“George.” My mom said.

“No Lemon, you were right in your motion to try and send her off to boarding school. It would have been for her own good, because now she decided to help her dumb ass of a brother get out of situation he ain’t ever shoulda been in to begin with.” He yelled.

“Daddy it’s not as bad as you think.” I tried to reason.

“I always told you that Hall boy was no good for you darlin’“ He said.

“I’m takin this to the cops.” He said.

“No dad you can’t.” I said as I ran to the door.

“Why Reese.” He asked.

“There is so much that you don’t know okay, but you can’t trust them.” I said.

“At least not Cortez.” I added.

“You’re not makin any sense honey.” My mom said.

“Cortez is dirty okay. He is caught up in bets that are bein made on Panic. I don’t know if he is in on them but if he is it means he’s got his eyes glued on me and everyone else in this stupid game so we cannot trust him. He is trying to take Luke Hall out, and if we aren’t careful he is going to find out what happened and we are all gonna go sinking down with that ship.” I said.

“You’re going to tell us everything.” He said.

#dodge mason #dodge #ray hall #panic #panic amazon #lauren oliver #olivia scott welch #mike faist

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artyandink · 10 months ago

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we could be more | dean winchester | 8

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

THE USUAL SUSPECTS

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : ROLLING IN THE DEEP - ADELE

“Miss Ivonne Rainer.” A dude with black hair and green eyes stepped into the room, holding a case file. He was around my age, well built, and judging by the confidence, high up in the precinct. He was also, now that I mention it, sexy. “You’ve got a very chequered past, by the looks of it.”

“I’m not playing chess, mate, so just cut to the chase.” I retorted, tapping my watch. “You’ve got 48 hours, so why not tell me your name so we can move things a bit quicker?”

”Detective Sergeant James Rhodes.” He showed me his badge.

“Where’s the bad cop, eh?”

”With Dean Winchester. Good cop’s with Sam, and the even worse cop is with you.”

”I feel special. Flattered.” I smiled sarcastically. “Why are you holding us?”

”Your buddy Dean is being held on charges for suspicion of murder.”

I frowned, leaning forward. “Murder?!”

”You sound genuinely surprised. You should’ve gone to acting school.”

”Who could he have murdered?”

“We’re getting onto that.” He replied, opening a file and giving me a once over with a hint of red on his cheeks. I smirked a little, leaning back in my chair. “Let’s just look through your file first. I’ve got a lot of research on you, Ivonne. You’re 27, born in ‘79 in Jersey to Michael Rainer and Audrey Rainer neé Singer. You went to a good primary, got a score of 174 on your LSATs, an almost perfect score on your SATs and scored a full ride to Princeton on the course of economics while trying to help your younger sister Quinn battle cancer, which ultimately failed.” I gritted my teeth. “But, here’s the catch. One year after your admission, you were forced to drop out due to your father’s untimely death, a murder which was never solved. Do you want me to continue?”

I stayed silent.

“Tough crowd. About a month after your father’s death, you were the centre of an open and shut case eight years ago in which your brother Carter descended into insanity and killed your family by sticking knives into their throats, and also killed your mother’s unborn child. However, in defence, you shot him after he tried to do the same to you. You were proven innocent after a CCTV recording placed Carter as the killer of your sister Lily and your mother. You went off the grid, but then conveniently seven or eight years later, you were kidnapped by your boyfriend Xavier Jackson, but you broke free, wrestled for his gun and shot him twice, killing him. Your witness? Sam Winchester.”

“You done relating my life story?” I scoffed. “I’ll admit it, you’re cute and this macho, intimidation act is as well, but if you’re aiming to take me out to dinner after this, you’re gonna have to take a step back and reassess the situation.” He looked taken aback, and I nodded. “I’ve met people like you before, Serge, and I know exactly how to deal with them.”

“We’re here to discuss Dean Winchester.”

”And so far all you’ve done is relate something that isn’t important and check me out.” I smirked. “Get on with it, will you?”

”Why I listed every bit of your family history is because one thing doesn’t add up.” He put down the file. “How you ended up with the Winchester brothers. You have no connection to them. Your family had no contact with the Winchesters. So how did you end up with a man who’s charged with assault, murder and grave desecration and his brother?”

“I found them.” I frowned, pulling out my dad’s journal. “Read about John, Sam and Dean Winchester, knew I had to find ‘em. I had a stalker after me. Not anymore, but Dad’s journal knew that they could help me and they did.”

”What about Tony and Karen Giles?”

”Anthony Giles was a friend of John Winchester.” I explained. “I went with Sam and Dean once they found out that he was dead, throat slit with no trace of any bad things happening in Giles’ life to make him do such a thing.”

“There you go.” Sam gave Dean and I a cup of coffee while Dean handed Sam a paper while I dried my hair with a t-shirt. I was wearing a baggy black cashmere jumper with jeans, my necklace around my neck as usual.

“Anthony Giles.” Dean stated.

“Who’s Anthony Giles?” I asked, leaning in with my hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“He’s a Baltimore lawyer. Working late in his office, check it out.”

I read the paper, raising an eyebrow. “Room was clean, throat was slit… but no DNA or prints.”

”Keep reading. It gets better.”

“Security cameras failed to capture footage of the assailant.” Sam muttered.

“So either someone tampered with the tapes, or…”

“There’s an invisible killer.”

“My favorite kind. What do you think, Scully? You wanna check it out?”

“I’m not Scully. You’re Scully.”

“No, I'm Mulder. You're a red-headed woman.”

“You two are idiots, more like.” I sighed. “Let me dry my hair, then we’ll head out.”

“C’mon, Beanie,” Dean laughed, “you look good with wet hair.”

“Then again, it doesn’t feel great in cold air.” I winked. “Maybe next time.” I rifled through my box of IDs, buying my lip. “Who are we today?”

“Insurance investigators.”

“I’ll get my suit from the Mustang.”

“But, if you think about it, Dean couldn’t have murdered Tony, being at my house, right?” I asked.

“You’re right.” He nodded. “Tell me what happened next.”

“We went to see Karen, to help her keep herself together. And boy, she was fallin’ apart.”

Karen Giles sat on her sofa, sniffling and wiping her nose on a tissue. “Insurance. I totally forgot about the insurance.” She whispered, holding back the fifth wave of tears.

“We're very sorry to bother you right now, but the company is required to conduct its own investigation. You understand.” Sam pressed on, and she nodded. I forgot to mention, we were insurance investigators.

“Sure.”

“So, if you could tell us anything you remember about the night your husband died.” I asked, sitting down next to her.

“Uh, Tony and I were just supposed to have dinner. He called and said he was having computer troubles and that, that he had to work late. That was it.” Karen recounted, and I nodded.

“Do you have any idea who could have done this to him?”

“No, like I told the police, I… I have no idea.”

”Did Tony mention anything, you know, unusual to you? In the days before his death?” Dean asked.

“Unusual…”

“Yeah, like… strange?”

“Strange?”

“Y’know, like… weird noises, visions-“ I cleared my throat, stopping Dean.

“He had a nightmare the day before he died.” She whispered, and Carl wrote it down on my flip notebook, and I was loosely holding the pen to give an impression that I was writing and not a magic pen.

“What kind of a nightmare?” Sam frowned.

“Uh, he said that he woke up in the middle of the night and there was a woman standing at the foot of the bed, he blinked and she was gone, I mean, it was just a nightmare.”

“Did he say what she looked like?” Dean asked.

“What the hell difference does it make of what she looked like?!”

“Our company’s thorough, Mrs Giles.” I smiled, stepping in to save Dean’s butt. Again. “We’d like to get a detailed description of the days prior to the incident so then we can make a good analysis. As many details as you can spare, if that’s ok.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, calming down, while Carl wrote down ‘good job’ on the paper. “He said she was pale, and she had dark red eyes.”

“Thank you for your time.” I gave Karen a side hug, giving her my fake calling card, but had my burner phone number. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I told Karen to call me if she had any problems and then we set off.”

“Doesn’t explain why you broke into Anthony Giles’ office.” He persisted.

“Okay, look, Karen called us later, said that there was some stuff that she wanted from Tony's office, but the police weren't letting her in- like, a picture of the two of them in Paris, and some other stuff. She gave us the key. It wasn’t a break in.”

“Hey. Anthony Giles' body was found right about here.” Sam gestured.

“Throat slit so deep, part of his spinal cord was showing.” I read out, sitting at the computer.

Dean whistled. “What do you think? Vengeful spirit? Underlining vengeful?”

“Yeah, maybe. I mean he did see that woman at the foot of his bed.” Sam shrugged. I found something at the printer, whipping it out.

“Take a look at this.” I showed it to them. It had the word/thing ‘danashulps’ written all over it. “Dana Shulps.”

“A name?”

“A name that’s everywhere.” Dean chuckled. “Well, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

Sam checked the desk, shining his torch down. Then he breathed on it, revealing the word Dana Shulps. “Well, I think we’ve crossed over to a whole new level of weird.”

“Tell me about it.” I typed quickly, trying to crack the password to Giles’ computer.

”Maybe Giles knew her.” Dean suggested.

“Or it’s the name of our red-eyed mystery girl.” Sam shrugged. We went through available files, I scoured the internet, hacked into police databases, but…

“Nada.” I grimaced. “No girl name Dana Shulps ever died a horrible death or even existed. The surname Shulps isn’t even a name.”

“So what now?” Dean groaned.

“I’m a few clicks away from unlocking Giles’ laptop.” I clicked my tongue. “There could be something in his personal files.”

“How long?” Sam asked.

“Fifteen minutes, give or take. Carl, lend a nib.” Carl started helping, while I counted down the seconds until-

There we go.

“Seriously?” Sam sighed.

Dean’s fart noises.

”Your story checks out.” Rhodes nodded, closing the case. “But fact remains that Dean was found at Karen Giles’ murder scene.”

”Fact remains that Dean Winchester saved my life.” I frowned. “On multiple occasions, won’t specify which, and if that warrants anything, it warrants a hell lot of respect and favours. Come on, Serge. You’re smart, it’s obvious. You’re probably the type of guy to take one look at who you’re dealing with and say whether they’re guilty or not. And you’ve taken a long, hard look at Dean. At me, maybe even Sam. Give me your honest opinion. Do you think any of us are guilty?”

”No.” Rhodes admitted. “Facts don’t add up. Dean wasn’t holding a weapon when they found him. He wasn’t present at the murder of Tony Giles. No prints, no DNA, just him conveniently at the scene. But I’ve got nothing else to work with, unless something else is at play here, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because a murder isn’t that clean cut.”

“What if it was something else?” I shrugged.

“What are you suggesting?”

“At the crime scene, we found two words written over and over. Dana Shulps.” I showed him the printed paper. “Help me figure out what this means. If you find Dean guilty after this, go ahead, arrest him, put him on trial and get him in prison with a lifer, but for now, consider the fact that he’s innocent.”

James sighed, conceding. “Fine, but it has to look like I’m interrogating you.”

“Not so much of an even worse cop, huh?”

“I bend to reason. Now, Dana.” I wrote down the name, staring at it.

“Best thing I’ve got is an anagram.” I shrugged, tapping a pen on the table.

“Scramble it, then?” We both wrote down the words in different ways, switching things up, thinking, until I got something.

“Ashland sound familiar?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Ashland’s a street name.” A woman knocked and walked in, and she looked to be in her late forties. Her badge read ‘D. Ballard.’

“Detective Ballard.” Rhodes’ demeanour switched up, turning to Ballard with a smug air. Wow, that was quick. Smoother than butter. “How’re things going with Sam Winchester?”

“Story matches Dean’s. How about Rainer?” Ballard replied.

“We’re getting somewhere.” He smirked, glancing back at me. “Miss Rainer and I were having an intense heart to heart, but story still matches the other two’s. Though, I have to say, tough customer. Not sure Pete would be able to keep his cool for long if he had her.”

“I doubt it too.” She nodded. “Keep at it, we can only hold ‘em for 48 hours.” She left, and Rhodes switched again, turning back to me with an easy smile.

“How’d I do?”

“You lie almost as well as I do.” I grinned. “Am I turning a good boy soft?”

“Cut the bad girl act, Rainer.” Rhodes chuckled. “Yeah, I have to admit, I was checking you out, but I can look through a guise if I see one.”

“Again, flattered.”

“You’re a hard case to crack, aren’t you?”

“I like to give people a challenge.” I wrote on the paper. “Get this to Dean and Sam, any way you can without being spotted. They need to know.”

He took the paper, standing up. “I hope to God that you’re right, Rainer.” He left, leaving me to contemplate all my life decisions.

”Trust me, I hope so too.” I sighed.

Rhodes came into my room later, looking grim. “I got you a ticket out, but Dean’s decided to confess. You might wanna come watch.”

“Confess to what, though?” I asked, picking up my leather jacket and putting it on.

“That’s what I wanna find out.” We went into the interrogation room, where they were setting up a camera.

“Beanie.” Dean grinned upon seeing me. “Are you ok?”

”I’m doing fine.” I nodded.

”Your boyfriend decided to confess, sweetheart.” One detective smirked. “Speak directly to the camera, and state your name for the record.”

Dean faced the camera, a smug smirk on his face. Wait, I know what he’s going to do. “My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius.” Here we go. “I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women. And I did not kill anyone. But I know who did. Or rather what did. Of course it can't be for sure, because our investigation was interrupted. But our working theory was that we're looking for some kind of vengeful spirit.”

”Excuse me?” Ballard scoffed.

“You know, Casper the bloodthirsty ghost?” Dean shrugged. “Tony Giles saw it. I'll bet you cash money Karen did too. But see, the interesting thing is the word it leaves behind. For some reason it's trying to tell us something. But communicating across the veil, it ain't easy. You know, sometimes the spirits, they, they get things jumbled. You remember ‘REDRUM’. Same concept. You know, it's, uh, maybe word fragments... other times, it's anagrams. See, at first we thought this was a name, Dana Shulps. But now we think it's a street. Ashland. Whatever's going on, I'll bet you it started there.”

“You arrogant ass.” Detective Sheridan hissed. “Tony and Karen were good people, and you're making jokes.”

”I’m not joking, Ponch.”

”You murdered them in cold blood just like that girl in St. Louis!”

“Oh, yeah. That wasn't me either. That was a shape-shifter creature that only looked like me.” Sheridan lost his temper, hauling Dean up by his collar and slamming him against the wall. I was going to step in when Rhodes held me back, other officers jumping in to help.

”Pete!” Ballard gasped.

“That’s ENOUGH!” Rhodes yelled, stopping everyone. “I’ll cuff him myself, just go return to your jobs. Rainer, you stay with me.” Everyone left, leaving Dean, Rhodes and I alone.

“Well done, you locked me up.” Dean grimaced as he looked down at the cuffs now around his wrists. “Whatcha gonna do, gloat?”

”Ask you two if this Casper thing is real.” The answer took Dean aback, and he blinked at Rhodes, wondering why. “I talked to Rainer. The facts don’t add up, and a spirit seems most obvious when it comes to a murder with no prints or DNA.”

“Beanie, you sly fox.” He chuckled. “She can talk her way out of anything.”

”Long story short, yeah, it is.” I nodded. “Shifter is real too, all of the likes of it are.”

”So, Ashland?”

“Street name.” Rhodes nodded. “Why this spirit is trying to tell us that, I’m not sure.”

”The girl died there.” Ballard stepped in, and Dean sighed, rolling his eyes and opening his mouth to speak. “Can we make this quick? I'm a little tired, it's been a long day, you know, with your partner assaulting me and all.”

“I want to know more about the stuff you were talking about earlier.” She gulped.

“Time Life. Mysteries of the Unknown. Look it up.”

”Let’s pretend for a moment that you aren’t entirely insane.”

“Mhmm.”

”What would one of these things be doing here?”

”A vengeful spirit? Well, they're created by violent deaths. And then they come back for a reason, usually a nasty one. Like revenge on the people that hurt 'em.”

I noticed something on Rhodes’ wrist, and I took out, pushing up his sleeve.

“Where did you get these?” I asked.

”These weren’t there before.” He gulped, looking freaked. Ballard pulled up her sleeve too, showing the bruises.

“You two saw it, didn’t you?” Dean frowned.

“How did you know?” Ballard gasped.

“Because Karen had the same bruises on her wrists. And I'm willing to bet that if you look at Giles' autopsy photos he's got 'em too, it's got something to do with this spirit, I... I don't know what.” He paused, staring at Ballard’s stunned expression as she turned away. “I know. You think you're going crazy. But let's skip that part, shall we? Because the last two people who saw this thing? Died, pretty soon after. You hear me?”

“You think we’re going to die.” Rhodes breathed.

“You need to find Sam.” Dean urged. “He can help, and so can Ivonne.”

”You’re giving up your brother.” Ballard stammered.

“Go with Beanie. She’ll find Sam and they can help figure this out. You can arrest him if you want, or you can let him help you.”

“Lead the way, Rainer.” Rhodes agreed, and I immediately walked out of the door, both of them following.

I knocked on Sam’s door at the motel. “Jim Rockford? It’s Tabitha from room service.” Sam opened it immediately, spotting the two behind us. “They saw it. This is James Rhodes and you know Detective Ballard.”

”Get in.” We all got inside, and Sam hugged me before turning to the other two, holding their wrists. “These showed up after you saw it?”

“Yeah.” Rhodes nodded.

“You know, I must be losing my mind. You're a fugitive. I should be arresting you.” Ballard shakily told us, but we shared a look.

“Fine. Arrest Sam, then.” I shrugged. “After we save your life. For now, just trust us to do this, ok?”

“She’s right, Diana.” Rhodes vouched, and she conceded. I gave him a thankful smile, pulling out Sam’s folder of crime scene photos and booking photos.

“Okay, great. Now, this spirit. What did it look like?”

“She was, um, really pale, and her throat was cut, and her eyes, they were like, this deep dark red? It appeared like she was trying to talk to me. But she couldn't. It was just... a lot of blood.” Diana stammered.

“Alright.” I showed them the photos. “I’m gonna flick through these one by one, and you’re gonna tell me if you recognise her.” I went through the photos one by one, and then Rhodes cleared his throat when I stopped at one.

“That’s her.” He nodded.

“Yeah.” Diana agreed.

“Claire Becker? Twenty eight years old, disappeared about eight or nine months ago.” Sam frowned.

“But we don't even know her. I mean, why would she come after us?”

“Well, before her death, she was arrested twice. For dealing heroin. You ever work narcotics?”

“Pete, Diana and I did.” Rhodes gulped.

“Did you bust her? Any of you?” I asked.

“I did, but I got her a shorter sentence than she was going to get.”

“It says that she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. Police searched the place, didn't find anything. Guess we gotta check it out ourselves. See if we can find her body.”

“What?” Diana coughed.

“Well, we gotta salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit to rest.” Sam explained.

”Of course it is.”

“You guys go and have a glass of water. Keep an eye on each other. Ivy and I need to talk.” The other two went into the room behind us so Sam and I could have a chat.

“Rhodes seems to be taking it well.” I smiled. “Ballard, not so much.”

“I think Rhodes is taking it well cause of you.” Sam smirked, and laughed when I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think I don’t see the sparks. Dean would’ve already commented on it.”

“He’s a man of the law.” I sighed. “I have more fake IDs than I’ve had birthdays.”

“Maybe that’s the danger of it. Forbidden love-“ I slapped him across the head with a piece of paper. “Ow, okay, okay!”

“You better not mention to this to Dean.”

“I think he knows.”

We walked into an abandoned warehouse, my gun drawn just in case.

“A firearm?” Rhodes scoffed.

“It’s licensed, so untwist your boxers.” I smirked.

“So what exactly are we looking for?”

“We’ll let you know once we find it.” Sam informed, then we split up, searching for a possible place to hide a body. I scaled the wall, knocking on it to try and find a bit of hollow wall that I could bust open-

“Sam!” I heard Diana yell, sounding scared. “Sam! James! IVONNE!” All three of us came running back, and we found Diana alone.

“What happened?” I asked. “Did you see Claire?”

“She, she was here.”

“Did she attack you?” Sam questioned, looking around.

“No, she was just… reaching out to me. She was over there by the window.“ There was a shelf blocking the window, so Sam and Rhodes got to work and moved it, revealing the word ‘ASHLAND SUP’.

“I’m guessing the SUP started the word supplies.” I grinned, then followed the reflection to a wall on the other side. “Sam, did you bring the sledgehammer?” Sam held it up, so I took it and started cracking a hole the wall. I peered in, and nodded. “Yep. There’s something here.” Sam joined me and helped me tear the rest of the wall open, revealing Claire Becker’s body.

“God.” Rhodes breathed.

“Something about this is bothering me.” Sam frowned.

“You’re digging up a corpse.” Diana pointed out.

“Digging them up is pretty par for the course. But why would a vengeful spirit lead us to her corpse?” We bent down to take a look, and Diana reached out, touching the necklace.

“Does it mean something to you?” I asked.

“That necklace. It’s rare, custom made on Carson Street.” She pulled out the same one from her neckline. “I have one just like it. Pete gave it to me.”

“Now this all makes perfect sense.” Sam nodded, piecing it all together.

“What does?” Rhodes frowned. “Apart from Pete killing Claire.”

“Claire’s not a vengeful spirit, she’s a death omen.” I explained. “She’s not killing people, she’s warning them that they’ll die by the same hand she did. You see, sometimes spirits, they don't want vengeance, they want justice. Which is why she led us here in the first place. She wants us to know who her killer is.“

“Detective, how much do you know about your partner?” Sam asked.

“Oh my god.” Diana gasped.

“What?”

“About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lockup. Obviously it was a cop. We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product.”

“Someone like a heroin dealer. Someone like Claire.”

“I’m going to make a phone call, find out where Dean is.” Rhodes stood up, pulling out his phone and walking to another corner. “If we’re right, he could be next.”

“Did you bring the Mustang?” Sam asked me, and I held up my keys.

“Yeah.” I nodded, then turned to Claire’s body. “We’ll catch him.”

Rhodes came back, looking freaked again. “Pete just left with Dean. Said he had to be transferred and just took off. He’s not answering the radio, either.”

“We need to cut him off.” I grimaced, cocking my gun. “He’s in a county vehicle, so we need to access the lo-jack and find the route. Let’s go!”

I was driving with my pedal to the metal, with Diana and Sam in the back and Rhodes at the front with me.

“Tell me.” Rhodes turned to me with a smile. “How does a girl like you end up in a job like yours?”

“What do you mean, a girl like me?” I chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re smart, quick on your feet, obviously good with a gun. You got almost perfect scores on your LSAT and SAT, got into Princeton, practically a shoo in almost anywhere. You could’ve been great on the force, instead you’re hunting the impossible.”

“Hunting the impossible seems like a better option, in my opinion.” We reached the GPS location of the county vehicle, appearing behind Sheridan just as he was about to kill Dean.

“Pete!” Diana yelled. “Put the gun down!”

”Diana?” Sheridan gasped. “How'd you find me?”

“I know about Claire.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Put the gun down!”

“Oh, I don't think so. You're fast. I'm pretty sure I'm faster.”

“Why are you doing this?” She asked.

“I didn’t do anything, Diana.” Sheridan lied, while I flicked down the safety pin on my gun.

“It’s a little bit late for that.”

“It wasn't my fault. Claire was trying to turn me in, I had no choice.”

“You had a choice, Pete.” Rhodes frowned. “Instead you killed an innocent woman. Then why Tony and Karen?”

“Same thing! Tony scrubbed the money, he got skittish, and then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything.” He reasoned. “It was a mess; I had to clean it up. I just panicked.”

“How many more people are going to die over this, Pete?”

“There's a way out. This Dean kid's a friggin' gift. We could pin the whole thing on him. Right? No trial, nothing. Just, just one more dead scumbag.”

“Hey!” Dean barked, but backed away when the gun was turned on him. I rolled my eyes, ready to pounce, but with a gun trained on Dean it wouldn’t be wise.

“No one will question it. Diana, please. I still love you.” I gave Diana a look, but she put her gun down. “Thank you. Thank you.” Sheridan turned to Dean, but then Diana quickly picked up her gun, shooting Pete in the stomach and making him fall, giving Dean time to roll out of the way.

“Then why don’t you buy me another necklace, you ass?!” She hissed, before she was tackled herself, and Sheridan got up, instantly going for the gun, facing off Rhodes and Sam. However, Claire showed up behind Sheridan, making him turn around and gasp in horror as she smiled, giving me time to pull the trigger and shoot him in the back. He fell to the floor, more permanently this time, and Claire gave me a nod before disappearing.

“Hell of a shot.” Rhodes breathed, glancing to me.

“Thanks.” I smiled. We gave Diana time to mourn her partner, then she came back to us.

“You doin' all right?” Sam asked, concerned.

“No, not really. The death omen Claire, what happens to her now?”

“Should be over. She should be at rest.”

“So, what now, officers?” Dean asked.

“Pete did confess to me. He screwed up both your cases royally. I'd say that there's a good chance that we could get your cases dismissed.” Rhodes explained.

“You’d take care of that?” I smiled.

“I hope so. But the St. Louis murder charges? That's another story. I can't help you. Unless... I just happened to turn my back, and you walked away. I could just tell them that the suspects escaped.”

“You sure?” Sam blinked.

“Yeah, they’re sure, Sam.” Dean urged.

“No, I mean, you could lose your jobs over that.”

“Look, we just want you guys out there doing what you do best. Trust me, I'll sleep better at night.” Diana sighed. “Listen, you need to watch your back. They're gonna be looking for the three of you right now. Get out of here. I gotta radio this in.”

“Do you know where my car is by any chance?” Dean asked.

“It’s in an impound lot on Robertson’s.” She gave Dean a look. “No. You’re not stealing it.”

“Of course not.” I smiled, patting the boys on the shoulder. “We’ve got my Mustang, and we’ll improvise. We’re good at that.”

“Clearly.” Rhodes grinned, and Dean and Sam shared a look.

“We’ll meet you at the car.” Dean smirked, dragging Sam with him. Diana had slipped off, leaving me and Rhodes.

“This’ll be one heck of a story to tell.”

“I bet.” I laughed, storing my gun in my arm holster. “Just leave out the part of the death omen and people won’t call you insane.”

“That sounds best.” He chuckled. “You’re a really hard case, Rainer, you know that, right?”

“I’ve heard. Well, I’ve better get going.” I smiled, then pulled my car keys out of my pocket. I stared at them, then raised an eyebrow. “Wait, I have my keys. If I have them, how are the boys in the-“ My focus was thrown off course by a pair of lips on mine, an arm wrapping around my waist. I dropped my keys because of the impact, forgetting about them and cupping the nape of his neck, the other arm hanging loosely around it. I could feel his smile, tilting his head-

“HAUN HAUN! YOU GOT THE GIRL, OUI OUI?!” I pulled away, turning to where Dean was.

“DEAN WINCHESTER, I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” I yelled, then stepped back from Rhodes. “Sorry about them.”

“Nah, you’re good.” He picked up my keys and gave them to me, kissing me again quickly and then my hand. “It’s gonna take a lot to forget you, Rainer.”

“Don’t worry about that, Serge, nobody can forget me.” I handed him a note with my burner cell number. “Call me sometime. If I don’t pick up, I’m hunting another demon. And, uh, call me Ivy.”

“Then call me James.” He took the note, pocketing it. “I’ll lead the cops off your trail. Just go, and don’t die, cause those two will need your help. You’re a smooth talker.”

“I guess that solves the mystery of why I joined them in the first place.” I smiled. “See you around, James.”

“You too, Ivy.” I walked back to the Mustang, unlocking it and getting in.

“You boys are idiots.”

“I like him the best.” Dean smirked. “Cool dude.”

“Yeah, we love a rogue officer.” Sam teased.

“Shut up, you two.” I groaned, flooring it and waving goodbye out of the window to James, who was watching me leave.

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kk095 · 2 years ago

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The Drive By

Adriana Torrez was a 22 year old Latina with a fiery, outgoing personality. She stood at 5’2 with a pleasantly plump build, had dark curly hair, brown eyes, a naturally tan complexion, and colorful tattoo sleeves up and down both arms. Adriana was always a little rebellious and had the tendency to hang out with a rougher crowd.

A few nights ago, Adriana was hanging out at a friend’s apartment with a few people. It was her, her friend Crystal, a guy Diego who was a drug dealer in the neighborhood, and a guy Jay who’s gang affiliated. The group was just hanging out in the living room of the first floor apartment drinking, smoking weed, and listening to music. Out the living room window, a black SUV pulls up, kind of idling in front of the apartment. “who the hell’s that?” crystal asks. Suddenly, the back passenger side window of the SUV lowers, and out is an Uzi sub machine gun. The gunman sprays a few quick bursts into the apartment through the living room window. Diego is struck twice in the head before he even has a chance to react, dropping dead to the floor. Adriana unfortunately gets caught up in the crossfire, being struck twice in the chest, and once in the left shoulder, collapsing to the floor bleeding profusely. Jay pulls his gun from a drawer in the living room table and heads outside attempting to confront the shooter, but the SUV had already sped off into the night. “oh my God, oh my God! Adriana?!” crystal shouted, on the verge of tears. Adriana laid on the floor, gurgling on her own blood while bleeding out. Adriana had a terrified look in her eyes, but couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. “jay! We gotta call 911!” crystal shouted in a panicked tone. “no no no, fuck that. I got weed and guns in here. I don’t want the cops coming!” Jay protested. “her and Diego got fuckin shot! Come on bro!” crystal cried out. “naw, fuck this shit. I’m outta here.” Jay said, grabbing his car keys and heading out the door, heading to God knows where. Crystal decided to call 911 on her cell phone once Jay left.

“911, what is your emergency?” a female dispatcher’s voice asked. “Help! Help! There’s been a shooting at my friend’s apartment! You gotta hurry!!!” crystal shouted into the phone, practically on the verge of tears. “what is the location of your emergency?” the dispatcher asks in response. “I don’t know! It’s the apartment complex off conway boulevard near the liquor store. You gotta hurry! My friend’s dying!” crystal yelled into the phone, sobbing at this point. “alright ma’am, I have police and EMS en route. Please remain on the line for me.” The 911 operator replied.

In a few minutes, officer Natalie was first on scene. She entered the residence with her gun drawn. “hey! Over here! Help!!!” crystal shouted. Natalie put her gun back in her holster and headed over. “I have 2 victims. One deceased male Hispanic, early 20s, one Hispanic female early 20s, multiple gsw’s. Requesting EMS and homicide on scene.” Natalie said into her radio. “10-4. EMS is already en route. We’ll reach out to homicide.” A male voice on the radio replied to officer Natalie. “hi sweetie, I’m officer Natalie. Can you tell me who did this?” Natalie asks Adriana. The terrified girl gurgles on her own blood, spitting some up, with tears rolling down her face. “I… I don’t know. There was a black truck outside…” Adriana replied to officer Natalie. “great job sweetie, that’s really helpful. Do you know whose truck it is? Have you seen it before?” Natalie replied, holding the mortally wounded young lady’s hand. “I don’t know… I’m so scared…” Adriana replied, squeezing the officer’s hand tightly. “it’s ok sweetie, I have help on the way. The ambulance is gonna be here soon.” Officer Natalie says, trying to keep the girl calm. “What’s your name hunny?” Natalie asks the girl, trying to keep her calm. “adriana…” she replies. “I’m Natalie. I wish we met under different circumstances sweetie.” Natalie says back to the young lady, still holding her hand.

Finally, medics Tracy and Stephanie show up. “whoa, what happened here?” Stephanie asks, looking at the hectic scene. “drive by shooting. Guy over there didn’t make it, coroner and homicide are coming. But this is Adriana. She got hit a couple times and needs some attention.” Officer Natalie tells the two medics. “pleaee… don’t go anywhere… I’m scared…” Adriana says to officer Natalie. “it’s gonna be ok, I’m not gonna go anywhere.” The cop tells Adriana. “is she gonna be ok?!” crystal shouts, standing in the background. “she’s in good hands. I’m sure they’ve seen worse before.” Officer Natalie replies.

Tracy and Stephanie snip off Adriana’s top and bra, examining the bullet trajectory. “all 3 rounds have entry and exit wounds. Went clean through her.” Medic Tracy says. “yeah, tons of blood loss. Let’s get an IV set up and get her going on fluids and pain meds.” Medic Stephanie replied. With that said, IVs were set up in both arms, with fluid resuscitation commencing immediately, along with a dose of pain meds. Tracy stuck some EKG electrodes onto Adriana’s bare, blood soaked chest and set up the heart monitor while Stephanie removed Adriana’s pants, socks, and pair of Jordans she was wearing. “vitals unstable. BP 60/palp, heart rate’s 140, O2 saturation 91%. We gotta get her to the ER ASAP.” Tracy said. Tracy and Stephanie got Adriana onto a gurney, and brought her out of the living room, wheeling her into the ambulance nearby. Officer Natalie was allowed to come into the ambulance with Adriana since homicide and the coroner’s office arrived on scene to begin their investigation, talk to crystal, and take Diego’s body.

The heart monitors beeped loud and fast during the ambulance ride, with no sign of improvement in Adriana’s vital signs. “natalie… am I gonna die?...” Adriana asked the cop, tears running down her face. “it’s all gonna be ok, I promise.” Natalie replied calmly, trying to reassure the girl. “it hurts so much…” Adriana replied, spitting up more blood. “I know sweetie. It’s all gonna be ok.” Natalie replies, holding the girls hand, while stroking her hair with the other hand.

Adriana remained conscious the entire way to the hospital, and was wheeled into the trauma bay where Dr Lindsay, Dr Jose, nurse Nancy, and nurse Heather waited. “22 year old female, multiple GSWs to the chest and shoulder. Hypotensive, tachy, started fluids on scene.” Medic Tracy summarized to the trauma team. “ok thank you, let’s transfer her on my count. 1..23!” Dr Lindsay ordered. Adriana was now on the trauma room table underneath the large, bright overhead light. Officer Natalie and the two medics were asked to wait behind the yellow line in the trauma room so the doctors and nurses could have space to work. “natalie?... You there?...” a terrified Adriana asked. “I’m just over here. They want me to wait here while they work, ok?” the cop replies.

“Diminished breath sounds left side.” Dr Jose calls out after listening to Adriana’s heart and lungs with his steth. “alright, she probably needs a chest tube. Let’s get that set up. And let’s get her started on the MTP. 4 units packed RBCs unmatched, 2 of platelets, 2 of plasma.” Dr Lindsay barked out, taking charge of the stressful situation. “doctor… am I gonna die?...” a terrified Adriana asks Dr Lindsay. “you’re in good hands, ok?” Lindsay replied, not exactly reassuring the young lady. Jose begins placing the chest tube on the left side. Adriana yelps at the top of her lungs, several octaves above her normal speaking voice, feeling the scalpel’s every move, and the large plastic tube being jammed into such a small space. Blood shot out of the chest tube and onto Dr Jose’s trauma gown. Her oxygen saturation improved, but her vitals did not. “please… I’m so scared… I don’t wanna die…” Adriana begged the trauma team after the brutal, painful procedure was finished up.

Not too long after the chest tube was placed, Adriana began to deteriorate rapidly. She spit up more blood, and her eyes started to roll back into her head. “adriana? Stay with us hun.” Nurse Nancy said, doing a sternal rub. Adriana groaned, her eyes opening slightly in response as she fought with everything she had left to remain conscious. Adriana’s eyes were open slightly, letting out a calm exhale followed by a bit of blood before fading away. “I lost a pulse.” Nurse Heather called out, her blue eyes trained on the heart monitor to confirm. “starting compressions.” Nurse Nancy stated to the team. The veteran nurse delivered deep, strong, forceful compressions while nurse Heather grabbed an intubation tray. Officer Natalie was still watching behind the yellow line in the trauma room, absolutely sick to her stomach watching the young lady receive cpr. With CPR ongoing, Heather begins sliding the ET tube into Adriana’s airway while her head bobbed and lolled a bit, making it a bit of a moving target. Heather had to really concentrate, which was easier said than done in the chaotic situation of monitors chirping, CPR ongoing, and people shouting. Finally, Heather gets the tube in, and secures it with a blue tube holder. “I’m in!” she says confidently, then starts ambu bagging. PEA was on the monitors, so epi and atropine were injected intravenously in an attempt to obtain a shockable rhythm. Adriana’s eyes remained half open, staring blankly off to the room as her bare, busty chest is rocked with harsh compressions.

Several minutes of unsuccessful resuscitation efforts and another dose of meds are pushed, but PEA persisted. “thoracotomy tray. I’m gonna open her up.” Dr Lindsay called out decisively. Betadine was squirted into Adriana’s bare chest, with an incision being made no more than a second after the brownish-orange liquid hit her skin. Dr Lindsay made a quick, crude incision in the 5th intercostal space starting just shy of the sternum. The cut was extended laterally across her chest, underneath her large, plump breast, and ending just shy of her left armpit. In the coming moments, Dr Lindsay did her thing and cracked Adriana’s chest wide open.

There was a large rush of blood that exited the incision area upon entry to the chest cavity. The area was suctioned out multiple times, and a vascular clamp was placed on the descending aorta near the girl’s diaphragm. Lindsay performed a quick pericardiotomy and relieved a massive cardiac tamponade with clots that were able to be suctioned out. At that point, Adriana’s heart began to fibrillate. The internal paddles were charged to 20, lowered into her chest, and a shock was delivered. A dull, wet thump was heard. From Natalie and the medics’ position, you could see Adriana’s toes curl, showing off the deep, thick, soft wrinkles throughout the soles of her size 7 feet. “Nothing. Charging to 30.” Dr Lindsay called out. The electric whining of the paddles charging could be heard, followed by a wet ka-thunk. “no change, charging again to 30.” Dr Lindsay called out, eyes trained on the heart monitor for a moment. The large, spoon shaped paddles were lowered back into Adriana’s chest around her twitching heart, and a shock was delivered. Her torso jolted a bit and her large, d cup breasts jiggled for a moment. “still nothing. Let’s hit her again at 40.” Dr Lindsay called out, shaking her head. The paddles were lowered back in, and a shock was delivered. Adriana’s torso twitched sharply in response to the dose of electricity, while her eyes remained half open, staring upwards in an expressionless gaze. Dr Lindsay reached her hands back into Adriana’s chest, firmly wrapped her hands around the dying girl’s heart, and began vigorously massaging it. Another dose of meds were injected intravenously, hoping to stimulate cardiac activity.

A few cycles of internal massage and meds failed to restore spontaneous circulation, so the internal paddles were recharged and called for once again. The blood soaked paddles were lowered back in, and another shock was delivered. “no change. Shocking again at 40.” Lindsay called out, lowering the paddles back in as the electric whining sound was heard. The same dull, wet thump was heard, but the high pitched droning of the monitors going flat was heard almost instantaneously after the shock. Lindsay looked down and saw the girls heart sitting completely motionless and still inside her chest. “pupils fixed and dilated.” Dr Jose added, shining a pen light into Adriana’s eyes. Lindsay sighed, “she’s gone. Time of death, 1:36am.”

The ambu bag was detached from the ET tube and the flatlined monitors were shut off. Nurse Nancy gently shut Adriana’s eyes for the final time. “no! She’s young! Come on, shock her again!” officer Natalie shouts at the team, on the verge of tears. “nat…come on…” medic Stephanie says discretely, putting her hand on the cop’s shoulder. “she can’t be gone! She was talking to me on the way over!” Natalie cried out, trying to plead with Lindsay. “I’m sorry Natalie, but she’s gone. We did the best we could, but she lost so much blood in such a short timespan.” Lindsay replied, trying to be sympathetic towards the upset cop. “then give her more blood! Do something!” Natalie yelled, tears rolling down her face. “nat, I’m sorry. We all did our best.” Lindsay replied. Natalie collapses to the ground and cries “no…”

The drive by shooting of Diego Ortega and Adriana Torrez is still under investigation. Detectives still don’t have any leads on the whereabouts of the black SUV, or the location of Jay. If you have any information critical to this case, please reach out to the authorities. We also would like to keep the family and friends of the victims in our thoughts and prayers in this difficult time.

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tiressian · 1 year ago

Note

Debate? Heated argument?

What about a quarrel because someone is... jealous. 😌🤭

But honestly, I've been waiting for you to write a jealous fic/sex trope. 🥺👉👈

You're in luck 😂 I have a scrapped jealousy scene from Hello Nurse that has kissing, on the house:

content warning for Naoya lmao, rated high T, sensuality, cussing

I’m getting laid, Shoko decides.

Ideally, she’d prefer a targeted lobotomy: erase everything about Satoru that makes her stomach tie up in knots, but anyone who’s manifested such a Cursed Technique has yet to step foot through the school gates. The thing about Satoru is he’s insufferable but also oddly considerate in unexpected ways, and these two facets of him are in constant harmony, which is frustrating, because he also has the nerve to be consistent about it.

Satoru’s stopped munching on her party-sized bag of potato chips and is staring at her.

“Oh,” Shoko says, realising after a pause. “Said that out loud, didn’t I?” Satoru nods slowly. Sorry. What were you talking about?”

“My annual ‘End of Summer; Zero Deaths!’ party,” he says. He goes back to munching. Shoko got the salt and vinegar flavour out of spite, but that doesn’t stop him from stuffing it down by the handful. “Ish gonna be ‘allow-een-feem.”

“Halloween-themed?”

Satoru nods, swallowing. “Yeah, costumes. You’re coming right? Who knows; you might even get lucky.”

“Who are you going as?”

“The Dread Pirate Roberts,” Satoru says, puffing out his chest briefly. Probably another character from all those movies he watches, Shoko assumes. “Wanna go matchy matchy? I think red suits ya.”

“Ha-ha.” Stupid Morgue joke, she thinks. Stupid Satoru, making the same one every year, as if it’ll magically land if he does it enough times.

“Worth a shot.” Satoru shrugs. He tips his head back to empty the rest of the potato chips down the hatch.

“Satoru,” Shoko says, suddenly remembering.

“Yo!”

“What kind of woman do you like?”

Satoru is briefly serious, thinking about it. The moment he smiles, Shoko knows she’s in for mischief. “Hmm, well. I really like women who like me.”

Shoko groans.

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Such a copout.”

“How’s it a copout?” Satoru scoffs, and as convincing as it sounds, Shoko’s ears are highly attuned to filtering out the bullshit.

“Plenty of women like you.”

“Still doesn’t mean my answer’s a copout.”

“Yes it is.” Satoru gives her a blank look. “You’ve noticed all those women liking you; you’ve at least figured out your preference if you haven’t acted on the fact by now.”

Satoru smiles coyly at her. “What an intriguing diagnosis. What makes you so sure I haven’t?”

There’s a fine line between teasing and flirting. Satoru is a deft hand at blurring that line no matter who he talks to. Five years ago, it made her heart race—until she realised he did that with everyone. Now it just triggers an involuntary eye roll.

“I’m not,” she says while Satoru chuckles. “That’s why I’m asking you.”

“It’s Six Eyes, not Six Hundred Eyes. Shoko, come on; I look like the kinda guy with that kind of time on my hands? You know my schedule.”

Another cop out. “I do know your schedule. I also know you have a knack for making space when it’s convenient.”

“Heaven forbid a guy practices time management!” Satoru throws his hands in the air.

“Favourite body part then,” Shoko says. Satoru tilts his head. “Are you a tits man or are you an ass man?”

Satoru snorts, then busts out laughing. He catches the marker pen Shoko flings at his head and sets it down calmly on her desk.

“I’m definitely an uncomfortable man,” he says.

“You’re lying.”

“Am not Shoko, I really am uncomfy.”

“Look, I’ll get the ball rolling: I like guys with nice bodies. That’s why I asked Suguru out,” she says. “See? Nothing you need to think too hard about.”

“Clearly.” Satoru says, catching her in a stare down. Eventually Shoko relents, unnerved. She looks away, digging into her labcoat pocket for the comfort of a cigarette. Stupid man, stupid consistency. “That strung out, huh…”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Shoko sighs. She balances her cigarette between her lips while she feels around her pant pockets for the lighter. It takes a couple of flicks before she finally gets a flame going. Satoru is quiet as he watches.

“Come to my party,” he says eventually, all teasing gone. “You never come.”

“I don’t like the noise.”

“Plenty of quiet corners. And beer.”

“What if I don’t want to wear a costume?”

“Then you’re drinking water.”

“Alright, compromise: I’ll come and I’ll wear a costume if you answer the stupid—”

“Hands,” Satoru says, heading off her rant at the pass with a smile.

Shoko closes her eyes and takes a drag. There’s never any comfortable middle ground when it comes to attention from Satoru. Always the extremes of barely enough, to have her noticing the days between his last visits and his current one, and too much all at once, filling her space with his presence until she feels suffocated by it.

“It’s stupid though,” he says.

“Liking hands isn’t stupid,” she says on an exhale.

“I mean liking only one part of a person. People aren’t made to be experienced in parts. You take them whole: good, bad…kinky.”

Shoko opens her eyes and finds him grinning at her, clearly having added that last part just to get a reaction out of her.

Shoko gives him nothing. She’s had enough years training herself out of knee-jerk reactions. She closes her eyes again and brushes the delusion aside.

“You’re weird,” she declares.

“I’m marking you down as Attending,” Satoru says. “Wear a costume—an actual costume—or you get no beer.”

He goes, leaving her office door open behind him so it can ventilate. “Smoking kills,” he says over his shoulder.

…

The party is in full swing when Shoko finally steps out of the elevator onto the penthouse floor. Sanji (Nanami) is there to let her in before he excuses himself to the bathroom. He doesn’t bat an eyelash at Shoko’s outfit, but then Nanami tends not to bat his eyelashes at most things.

“Utahime’s already drunk,” he explains. “I have to go hold her hair. There’s a walk-in closet where you can leave your coat.”

Satoru, or ‘The Dread Pirate Roberts’ is in the kitchen, finding entertainment in watching a zombie (Itadori) and a witch (Kugisaki) race to see who can shotgun their cokes the fastest while a mummy (Maki) boredly stands off to the side, eating from a skewer.

There’s a large icebox filled with beers set up by the couches. Shoko passes the kitchen as she weaves her way through the throng toward it, pretending as if she isn’t unnerved by the stares following her until she hears glass shattering. When she turns her head to the commotion, she finds Satoru standing there, staring at her like a deer in headlights, with the same blush she’d seen weeks earlier creeping across his face.

Yuki’s about to have a field day.

She gives the downright flabbergasted pirate a polite wave in greeting, careful to hide her glee. Then she continues on, retrieving a beer from the ice box and making herself at home on the empty space of couch that Two-Face (Naoya Zen’in) of all people has just cleared out for her. As she crosses one leg over the other, he leers without an ounce of shame, which seems to be a common denominator for these clan types. Then he shifts closer, draping an arm casually behind her head on the couch’s backrest, bringing her into his domain. He smells nice, Shoko will give him that much.

“Well hello nurse,” he greets, in the pompous tone of a man very used to getting his way. “You’re a long way from the Infirmary.”

The current leader of the Hei is a walking red flag, a veritable patron saint of Rotten to the Core. The name Zen’in is a warning label all its own already, but by god does this man work to make sure it stays that way. Shoko knows this, every woman in the jujutsu world knows this.

But Naoya is also hot and she came here to get laid. She’s already accomplished her primary goal of wiping Satoru’s perennial smirk off his face, and that’s worth celebrating. Shoko considers both truths as she pops open her beer. She decides just for tonight she doesn’t care if Naoya doesn’t respect her. He’s never needed her like everyone else in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s needed her, come crying when there’s something to be fixed.

Feeling wanted, even if it’s by Naoya Zen’in of all people, is way too nice of a thing to not smile about.

“Yes, I walked all this way just to sit here with you,” Shoko tells Naoya.

...

Naoya gets a phone call from the clan head and excuses himself to the balcony to answer, which is good timing for her, because she needs another beer. Most of the drinks have sunk lower in the icebox on account of the ice melting, so she has to bend a bit to reach. She feels a few of the eyes in her immediate vicinity fixate on her ass as she does, but it can’t be helped. She’s just straightening up, two cans in hand when her back brushes up against a wall that wasn’t there before and smirks as she turns. She didn’t expect Naoya to be done with his clan business so quickly, but she’s far from bothered; it just means she can get to her business too.

“Aww did you miss m—oh,” Shoko realises, chuckling. Satoru has taped fake anime girl eyes into his blindfolds which are a hilarious contrast to the tension radiating off of him. He crosses his arms any tighter his head’s going to pop off like a cork, she thinks. “The Dread Pirate Roberts. What an honour.”

“Nice costume,” Satoru says. His smile is so fake, Barbie’s probably ringing him off the hook to sue about it.

“Thank you. I think I might actually be getting lucky tonight, so I appreciate the suggestion.”

The fake smile on Satoru’s face splinters. “Naoya? Really? You couldn’t find anyone else to talk to?”

“It’s so fascinating Satoru; I don’t think he recognises me. Do you think he remembers what you and Geto did to him during Goodwill?”

“What you and me and Geto did to him, you mean.”

“Bygones. We’re adults now, Satoru.”

“He isn’t.”

Shoko smiles, poking him in the chest. “Oh? I don’t think you have any authority to say how an adult’s supposed to act.”

Satoru bats her hand away and holds up a gloved finger, which he probably assumes is supposed to lend him some kind of gravitas but in Shoko’s eyes he just comes across as petulant. “I got enough authority in this finger, nay, my pinky—” he says, wagging it in her face, “to say that that guy’s a hundred percent garbage dressed up in a fancy suit.”

“Well, no one else is interested in talking to me, garbage or no garbage.”

Satoru gestures between them. “I’m talking to ya aren’t I?”

“Doesn’t count; you’re the host. My point stands. No one’s rushing to talk to me.”

“Because they saw Naoya talking to you.”

“Why’d you invite him then?”

“Because he did me a solid.”

“Ahh so he’s only ninety-nine percent garbage then,” Shoko says, and Satoru twitches, one corner of his mouth fighting a smile.

“You’re smarter than this Shoko.”

“It’s sex, Gojo. Nothing to be smart about.”

“Well the sex you’re after is political.”

As if she needed the reminder. Satoru looks at her expectantly. Shoko purses her lips, considering.

“What if I asked him really nicely to let you off the hook?”

“Snowball’s chance in hell that’s happening. Look at him, Shoko: throwing his weight around, already enacting his terrorism over there.”

Proclaiming Naoya as a terrorist is a step dramatic even for Satoru, Shoko thinks, as she follows where he’s pointing. “What, like he’s marked his territory? That is so ridic—” she cuts off with a snort at the scene on the balcony.

Naoya is still on his phone, leaning on the railing, his back to the entire world while he nurses a beer. The other party guests who were on the balcony before him have all instinctively crowded to one side to give him a wide berth.

Yes. Marking his territory does sound like something in the realm of what a man who only viewed women as playthings would do.

“It’s fine,” Shoko decides, turning back to Satoru. He’s staring at the ceiling for no discernible reason, a blush high on his cheeks. “What’s with you?”

Satoru mumbles something.

“Pardon?”

“I said Naoya sucks.”

“That’s what I thought you said. Now quit being a bad host and go save those poor balcony guests if you care so much. I’ll tell you about the sex tomorrow if I’m still alive.”

She squeezes his arm and leaves him staring at her back, mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out.

...

On the spectrum of funny, Naoya is decidedly a lot less funnier than Satoru, which Shoko didn’t think possible until tonight. If there’s anything ‘funny’ about Naoya, it’s the way his gaze occasionally drifts to Maki from time to time. But Shoko also wants to get laid, and clan dynamics incestuous or otherwise are far down her list of things to be judgemental about, so.

It’s an excruciating twenty minute conversation, to say the least.

Shoko can only imagine what she looks like, smiling politely, and occasionally giggling, initiating contact by slapping Naoya lightly on the arm as though scandalised. She’s fervently relieved Utahime’s too drunk to see her subject herself to this, but Naoya’s staked his claim and it’s not as if anyone else is stepping up to the plate. That said, by virtue of his family name, rancid as his personality is, Naoya has to have no shortage of people lining up to throw themselves at his feet for the favours or protection being a Zen’in guarantees. He should be adept at seeing through bullshit pandering, especially since it’s not as if she’s going for the Oscar here. There’s a moment during their conversation where she thinks she sees intuition flash across Naoya’s face, but it seems to be unfounded when he inevitably cracks another unfunny joke and finally rests a hand on her knee. Shoko smiles as she takes a drink of her beer, dimly aware of the sound of glass shattering, amused by a different punchline:

Naoya is just like every other man.

...

And so is Satoru, apparently.

Naoya gets another phone call and Shoko won’t lie: it’s amusing to watch the people on the balcony part like the Red Sea the moment he steps out. She makes her way to the kitchen while Satoru herds everyone into the living room for some party games and starts assigning them up into teams.

The first game is charades. Shoko clears an entire tray of beef skewers while she watches, perched on one of the stools behind the kitchen counter. The only thing more entertaining than watching charades is watching drunk people argue technicalities for points.

The stool beside Shoko scrapes against the floor. Satoru steals the last beef skewer before she can get to it and cleans it off in one bite, chewing with more gusto than seems necessary since every piece has been cooked until tender.

“You n’ Naoya gettin’ real cozy,” he remarks.

“As cozy as one can get, sidling up to a viper’s nest?” Shoko guesses, smiling.

“Well at least you don’t need me to tell ya.”

Shoko watches him pull a tray of dumplings over and steals the one he was about to pick up as revenge, popping it into her mouth and smiling innocently back at him afterwards. Satoru mutters something under his breath and picks up a different dumpling.

“You know, Gojo,” Shoko says while they eat. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted Zen’in-kun for yourself.”

Satoru chokes mid-chew, beating a fist against his chest. Shoko claps him behind the back a few times to help dislodge it, admittedly with more force than required. This sudden burst of protectiveness is appreciated but unnecessary. Naoya and his ilk could stand to attend a gender studies class, but it’s not like she’s setting out to screw a scumbag curse user.

Satoru summons an unopened can of soda, and—after an expectant look from Shoko—a beer from the icebox with Blue. It’s as he’s sliding the beer over that Shoko notices the red smears on his wrists.

She jerks his hands towards her before he can drink so she can examine them closer. No wounds, just remnants of his reversed cursed energy kicking in, and fairly recently, too, judging by the strength of his residuals.

“What happened here? Fistfight with a knife?”

“Tch, no. Pyrex dish exploded.”

“What? How? Why? Those are supposed to be oven safe.”

“Dunno,” Satoru says. He clears his throat unnecessarily and tugs his hands back. Shoko sits back and watches him eat, a hundred percent certain he’s being evasive and trying to figure the angle.

“Never pictured you with a guy like Naoya,” he mutters, before he freezes, eyes wide, like he didn’t mean to say it aloud.

Too late for him, Shoko pounces. She leans against him, smirking. Shoko doesn’t know what possesses her to do it, maybe it’s the costume giving her a boost of confidence, but she curls her fingers over his forearm, idly scraping her nails against the muscle she feels through the black silk of his shirt. Satoru stiffens at the contact, face pink, but he doesn’t move away.

“Oh? You were picturing me with guys? I didn’t know your schedule had space for ‘that kind of thing.’”

“Oh like you don’t have time picturing me with women. Miss ‘what’s your type?’”

Shoko drums her nails against Satoru’s forearm and sighs. “For your information, I only asked because Yuki wanted to know.”

“Yuki?” Satoru repeats, frowning at her. If Shoko didn’t know any better, she’d be tempted to say he looked disappointed. She presses on, tracing an ’S’ in his arm with a nail, amused at how every line in Satoru’s body seems to draw tighter the longer she does it. He’s never been the ticklish sort, so it’s fascinating.

“What kind of guys, Gojo? Go on, tell me. You’ve been so vocal tonight, don’t stop now.”

“Good guys.” Satoru’s tone is clipped.

“Look at Mr. Eloquent over here. What’s a ‘good guy’? Define it for me.”

“Ha, easy: anyone at this party who isn’t Naoya.”

“Anyone, huh…” Shoko lets go of his arm and glances to where the rest of the party guests have gathered, engaged in the most intense game of Pictionary she’s seen, gaze sweeping over the faces she knows.

Kiyotaka’s kind but too awkward. Mei Mei could be fun, but would probably lord it over me if she doesn’t try to swindle me first. Utahime’s already asleep. She tilts her head at Nanami whose lap Utahime has claimed dominion over for the foreseeable future.

“I guess that’s true,” Shoko admits. Satoru nods in that self-satisfied way of his that she’s used to and pops open his soda. “Do you know if Nanami’s seeing anyone?” Shoko asks and Satoru spits out his drink.

“Nanami?” He manages, recovering. Sheesh, from the look on his face you’d think she’d just declared that Suguru was right this whole time and that she’s going to buy a ticket on the genocide train.

“Why not? Isn’t he a good guy? Or would Haibara be a safer bet. He’s nice and I like his face.”

“Well, yeah, but.”

“But what? Is he taken?”

“No, he’s just.” Satoru glances to Nanami and then back to her, managing to look even more put out, which is dumbfounding, considering Naoya as her only other alternative. “Nanami? Seriously!”

The last part comes out so sharply that Shoko startles, and she sees from the way Satoru registers her reaction that the outburst is instantly regretted. She’s used to seeing him emotional, but always as a third party watching him rant at Ijichi. Being subject to that ire is as sobering as a shock of ice water to the face.

Shoko pops open her beer and skulls it, feeling her hands shake. She can’t deal with being sober right now, because then she’d have to contend with the knowledge of the ‘good guy’ sitting right in next to her never, ever, slowing down enough for her to reach him.

“Sorry,” Satoru mutters, massaging his temples. “Didn’t mean to snap. Hosting’s been a real pain. Think I’ll should just… I dunno, hire out an izakaya next time.”

“That’s the smartest, most adult thing you’ve said all day.”

“Tch. I should confiscate your beer.” Satoru continues to press his fingers to his temples, brows knitted together, eyes closed.

“Another migraine?”

“Yeah. From watching you slobber all over roadkill,” Satoru grumbles.

Shoko rolls her eyes and swivels his chair to face hers. Satoru cracks an eye open, looking at her quizzically.

“Here.” She pulls his hands down, replacing them with hers along the sides of his face. Satoru closes his eyes.

She’s done it so many times it’s muscle memory at this point. Locking in on the pressure built up behind his eyes takes her no time at all, and even less time to remove it completely. All in all the process takes no longer than five seconds, but Satoru’s expression remains pinched, so she lingers. She waits for him to move away, because he’s always the first to do so, always laughing awkwardly when he does. It’s a rejection she’s built an immunity to from sustained exposure.

Satoru finally moves, but not in the way she expects. Both his hands come up to cover hers while he turns his head in towards one of her palms. When she feels him press a kiss into her skin, slowly opening his eyes to meet hers to gauge her reaction, she feels her entire body still as the realisation sinks in.

Hands.

Satoru smiles as he tugs her in, his eyes flickering to her mouth. Shoko goes without any resistance, feeling heady from the rush of emotions flowing through her.

Maybe it’s the universe’s way of evening the playing field, that for all of Satoru’s ethereal beauty, the allure of it is always instantly dispelled by the first thing that comes out of his mouth. For years she’s considered herself immune—and to a greater extent, special—because it’s never happened to her. She’s heard every conceivable off colour thing this man’s said, always felt an innate certainty that with all the years she’s spent supporting him, there’s nothing he could ever say to make her want to turn and run.

Until tonight.

The validation of every thought, every feeling, the alleviation of every doubt she’s ever had about the possibility of him returning her feelings; uplifted to heaven in a single gesture only to be dragged straight back to hell in the next. Ruined by the first thing out of his mouth, just as their lips are about to touch:

“Don’t go with him.”

Shoko pulls her hands back, too shocked to even derive some satisfaction from the way Satoru’s face falls. Her body moves automatically, muscle memory kicking in as it registers the grief, discerning no difference to her losing someone on her operating table, or completing an autopsy on a former colleague. She hops out of her stool, calmly goes over to the sink and washes her hands, dries them methodically like she always does, pausing to take in a pile of cracked glass and ceramic swept haphazardly into a corner, red streaks lining some of the larger pieces. Shoko decides she doesn’t care. She strides out of the kitchen and continues to the balcony towards Naoya, past everyone having a blast at karaoke, too drunk to pay them any mind. Satoru follows, ashen faced and stricken.

“Shoko? What’s the matter? Why are you—”

Shoko reaches Naoya and snatches the phone out of his hand, ending the call. Naoya raises an eyebrow at her afterwards, a cruel smirk promising retribution on his face even after she hands back his phone. The few other people on the balcony scatter, heading for the safety of Satoru’s living room.

“The last woman who gave me attitude,” Naoya says, advancing, “I had her—”

“Don’t care,” Shoko says briskly. “You’re hot, I like your face and I want to sit on it. You can fuck me however way you want after. We doing this or not?”

Naoya’s smirk widens, gaze raking greedily over her. He takes another step forward. “Alright, feisty. Your place or mine?”

“Neither,” Satoru cuts coldly in before Shoko can answer, looming over Shoko’s frame like an overgrown shadow. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“That’s my decision,” Shoko snaps, but Satoru’s attention remains fully focused on Naoya. She turns and prods him in the chest, which is the same thing as trying to poke steel. “Oi. Don’t talk like I’m not here.”

“Naoya-kun.” Satoru says, as politely as he can manage through clenched teeth. He tries to put a placating hand on Shoko’s shoulder but she immediately shrugs him off. “I think you should go. She’s only going to use you.”

“I don’t mind,” Naoya says, really more to Shoko’s cleavage than her face. Satoru’s eye twitches. Shoko inwardly rolls her eyes.

Men.

“Well if he’s leaving then I’m leaving too,” Shoko declares.

Satoru frowns at her, confused for all of two seconds before he clicks.

“Wait…what the hell, you’re mad at me? The hell did I do?”

Shoko pointedly ignores him, looking at Naoya. “Well?”

Naoya’s gaze shifts back and forth between her and Satoru, briefly perplexed before his smirk returns. “No idea what the hell’s going on here, but I’ve seen you—” he nods at Satoru— “watching me like a hawk, and you—” he nods at Shoko— “chatting me up all night. You both want a piece? Fine by me, but I get to top.”

Satoru doubles over laughing. Shoko pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling a migraine coming on. Naoya crosses his arms, watching the two of them, waiting for an answer.

Satoru finally recovers, dropping a hand on Naoya’s shoulder. He shakes his head. “Not even in your wettest, wildest dreams, Nao-chan.”

Shoko is already halfway to the hallway while Naoya shakes him off, digging into her pocket for her phone to call a cab. Satoru swears under his breath as he pursues, only a few steps behind her.

“Shoko! What did I do?”

“Ieiri?” Naoya spits out, aghast. “Fuck! I knew she looked familiar!”

...

Satoru’s hallway feels twenty times longer than it initially felt when she arrived, which is doubly annoying because he remembers he can teleport, and does so, cutting her off at the halfway point. Shoko barely manages to stop herself from walking into him. She tries to shoulder past but he catches her wrist.

“Why are you mad at me? What did I do? Back in the kitchen—look if you don’t want me that’s fine, but—”

“Don’t go with him,” Shoko deadpans. “Seriously.”

“Because he sucks! Why are you being so—”

“The second I start paying attention to someone else then suddenly I’m worth—”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Satoru says, looking hurt. “I didn’t even know you liked me like that until five seconds ago. Give a guy a chance to catch up will ya? I didn’t even know I had a cha—”

“What? Of course I like you like that, stupid dumb idiot! I’m still here, aren’t I? After everything, Satoru!” Shoko hisses, just in case karaoke isn’t loud enough to drown out their argument.

Satoru recoils from the outburst, startled.

I’ve fucked it up. I’ve fucked it. Whatever, I’ll live.

Shoko exhales and soldiers forward. Given time, none of this will matter in the grand scheme of things.

“I’m sorry. Look, it’s just. I put you first, I put everyone else first. I always have. I’m not complaining, I know my role in all of this. I just thought for once it was the other way round. And it felt nice…until you opened your big fat mouth.”

Satoru just stares, saying nothing.

She takes that as her cue to leave, brushing past him. She makes it about two steps before he catches her wrist.

“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything,” she says quietly, feeling too petty and small to look him in the eye even as he tugs her back, that same hand moving to cup her cheek. “I just need—”

She breaks off as Satoru kisses her.

...

Shoko will give Satoru this much, the man knows how to kiss. It’s just as well that he does, because it’s good enough to stop her from wondering about all the other people he’s kissed before he finally got to her. His free hand weaves around, supporting her back so he can tilt her, smiling against her mouth briefly before he pulls away and straightens, taking her weight as she sags against him, her hands resting on his chest.

It takes Shoko a few seconds to bring her brain back online, which would be mortifying, if Satoru didn’t also look like he was having just as hard a time catching his breath.

“Uh,” he says intelligently, possessing only enough braincells to grin goofily at her from ear to ear.

“Y-yeah,” Shoko says, just as intelligently, feeling a sudden hunger thrum throughout her body, sharp and hot until it’s all she can focus on. The equation’s simple enough: she wants him, he clearly wants her; the answer to said equation is even simpler: what the hell are they doing just standing around for?

Satoru clears his throat. “Sooo,” he starts, conversationally.

Shoko curls her fingers into his collar and drags him back to her mouth, a hand sliding up the nape of his neck to card through his hair.Satoru makes a noise as his back hits the wall, hands flailing uselessly in the air as he kisses her back. While he’s so distracted, Shoko goes for his belt, unfurling his shirt from the waistband of his pants. Satoru makes another noise and catches her wrists, holding them up and out towards her sides. Shoko adapts, slipping her tongue into his mouth, pressing the length of her body up against his and rubbing against him. It works like a dream: Satoru’s grip on her wrists starts to slacken, moaning into her mouth—

“Yo! Gojo-sensei!” Yuji calls from the living room, the equivalent of cold water dousing the fire between them. “Your turn on the mic! Anyone seen Gojo-sensei?”

Satoru breaks away from Shoko’s mouth immediately, panting hard as he puts distance between them. He straightens, hands shaking as he tucks his shirt back into his pants, attempting to work his hair into some semblance of the ‘stylishly’ dishevelled look it was before Shoko got her fingers in it. Irritating as it is, Shoko will concede this about the interruption: it’s a nice ego boost on top of the catharsis of having her feelings returned, being able to admire her handiwork and let her imagination run wild on what else she can inflict upon this man.

“Probably sucking face with Ieiri,” Naoya says drily, in a rare display of leaving his self-centred bubble long enough to concern himself with other people. Shoko always assumed that was only something he did in battle.

Satoru just shoots a dirty glare towards the living room, blushing profusely.

Haibara busts out laughing. There's a loud thud and Naoya coughs. “Hahaha! Good one Zen’in-kun!”

Shoko tries to approach Satoru again, but finds she can’t get within two steps of him, thanks to his Infinity. Satoru’s clearly realised that any attempt at restraining her requires their bodies to be touching, thereby opening himself up to further exploitation on her part. He’s probably also considered sitting on her or tying her up, but has wisely refrained because he doesn’t want her more annoyed than she currently is. Shoko huffs and plants her hands on her hips, pursing her lips.

Stupid idiot, Shoko thinks, peeved, moving to lean against the wall opposite Satoru as a peace offering. Always smart only in the nick of time.

“Don’t be crass,” Maki says, murmurs of agreement following. “Everyone knows Ieiri’s too good for that idiot.”

Shoko nods in agreement. Satoru looks as if he’s just taken enough mental damage for his own soul to vacate his body.

“And how much are you willing to bet on that?” Mei Mei chimes in, scenting blood like the dirty capitalist she is. Someone groans. “What? You think this manicure grows on trees? A girl’s gotta eat.”

“Thought you wanted me,” Shoko says quietly.

“You fucking kidding me?” To his credit, he does look both apologetic and similarly frustrated about the situation, raking a hand through his hair, gaze sweeping longingly, hungrily over her, triggering an almost automatic lust low in her belly. He gestures wildly at all of her. “You’re wearing a nurse costume and stockings, for fuck’s sake! I got half a mind to barrel you over my couch.”

“So why don’t you?”

Satoru chuckles. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, dunno if ya noticed, but half the jujutsu community are on that couch right now.”

Shoko fights a smile. Stupid man and his capacity to only be funny in the worst of times.

“I hate you,” she says, managing to keep an even tone about it.

Satoru still smiles, eyes twinkling. “Aww, don’t be like that.”

“No. I hate you.” Shoko enunciates crossly, turning her head away before he realises that charm can be weaponised against her. “I’ve liked you all this time and this is the thanks I get. I don’t even want to think about all the credibility I’ve lost wearing this stupid costume. I got half a mind to go running back to Naoya.”

Silence.

“I mean,” Satoru mumbles to his feet, scratching the back of his neck. “I thought you’d come as Buttercup not… I mean I’m totally not complaining but I didn’t think you’d actually—”

“What was that?” Shoko snaps, an eye twitching.

“Nothing!” Satoru says quickly. He must have lowered his Infinity, because in the next instant he’s in front of her, taking one of her hands into both of his and squeezing. Shoko scowls up at him, feeling her resolve falter at the utter earnestness in his eyes. Damn him. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise. Good things come to those who wait, right?”

Shoko finds herself smirking. “If you say so,” she says.

She snatches back her hand and turns on her heel, striding confidently back to the living room. If there’s anything she knows about Satoru, it’s that Paragon of Patience he is not.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” Satoru mutters, trailing a few steps behind. “Shoko?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Shoko lies.

...

If it’s a battle of wills Satoru wants, Shoko’s happy to accommodate. Thirteen years of observing the man, be it fighting or teaching or goofing around has taught Shoko that he does not possess a single reserved bone in his body—ironic, considering the one she’d felt growing against her stomach five minutes earlier. He’s been spoiled by having Ijichi as a pressure valve to let off the steam before too much of it can accumulate, but Ijichi or no Ijichi, it’s not as if he’s ever had any trouble articulating his grievances.

Armed with tonight’s realisations, Shoko’s determined to become the most difficult grievance for Satoru to ever have the displeasure of trying to ignore, let alone protest about. She may have agreed to wait, but that doesn’t mean she’s rolling over and letting the time pass uneventfully for him. She’s spent enough of her twenties doing that, thank you very much, and fuck him for making her wait. Dark corners her foot.

At the very least, it will be an interesting stress test to see how many contrived, misinterpreted scenarios it’s going to take to crack him. Her money’s on Nanami as a heavy hitter, but Haibara could be a wild card, which is why he’s up first. It’s free amusement for her either way.

Haibara is cheerfully munching his way through a tray of pull-apart cheeseburger sliders and occasionally singing along with whoever’s got the microphone at karaoke. Shoko reclaims her seat at the kitchen island beside him while Satoru passes, taking the microphone from Yuji at the front of the living room by the TV. Satoru clearly isn’t concerned because Haibara’s the guy who takes everyone at face value, and wouldn’t know a flirtatious line if she sat beside him and had a name tag that read ‘Hi! I’m Flirting With You’ sticky-taped to her bosom.

“Ayy, park it there, Shoko-san!” Haibara greets, grinning at her through a mouthful of beef and cheese. He doesn’t even get distracted by her boobs which gives Shoko a newfound appreciation and respect for the guy. Haibara may not be special grade, but he is an anomaly amongst his peers, with that endless optimism.

“Hey Yu,” Shoko says, smiling and actually meaning it for once, “how’s life treating ya?”

“Better now that you’re here. So good to see ya out and about!” Sauce dribbles down the corners of Haibara’s mouth.

Shoko realises her cheeks hurt because her smile has turned into a full blown grin. In another life, she’d let that unpretentious charm of Haibara’s sweep her off her feet. Just her luck, falling for a serial schemer instead of someone so wholesome and uncomplicated.

“What?” Haibara says.

“You got a little…” Shoko can’t help but laugh when Haibara uses his tongue to try to mop up the sauce, only succeeding in spreading more of it around his mouth.

“How’s that?”

“Better.”

“Awesome!”

“No, you idiot, you got it everywhere,” Shoko laughs.

Haibara just shrugs like this is his life now, nothing to do except roll with it, which is just the most Haibara thing ever.

And seeing a mess and feeling a responsibility to clean it is unfortunately just the most her thing ever. Shoko grabs a napkin and leans forward, beckoning for Haibara to follow suit. “Come here then.”

“Okay!”

Shoko wets the napkin with water from an opened bottle and wipes away the sauce as best she can from Haibara’s face while he giggles.

“That tickles Shoko-san,” Haibara says, when she pokes his cheek.

A few more daubs here and there and, “Perfect,” Shoko declares at last, leaning back.

“Thanks!” Haibara says. He grabs another two sliders and stuffs them into his mouth and there’s more sauce dribbling out than before.

Shoko tosses the used napkin to an empty part of the table with a sigh. As Haibara goes back to eating, she tunes back into karaoke just in time to see Satoru’s head whip back to the lyrics rolling across the LED, his jaw slightly set.

#answered asks #and scene! lmao

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 years ago

Text

Elephant's Memory: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

A sad soul can kill you quicker, far quicker, than a germ." - John Steinbeck

Don't wait up for me. I will meet you at work. - Spencer

As soon as you saw the note, you immediately got changed and headed to work knowing Spencer will be there to greet you. However, when you get to work, Spencer is nowhere to be found. Everyone is gathered in the briefing room, but Spencer isn't there either.

"Where's Spencer?" you ask and take your seat.

"We thought he was with you," Derek frowns.

"Regardless, we need to get started," JJ says and puts a video on the screen for all to see. "Officer Letts shot this just before he was killed."

"Sorry I'm late," Spencer says and rushes inside the room.

He's disheveled, he's nervous, and he can't seem to look anyone in the eyes, especially you.

"I hope she was worth it," Rossi teases.

"You have a side piece we don't know about?" Derek smirks.

"I was at the movies," Spencer lies easily.

"Oh, really? Why don't you tell us what it was about?"

"I had to leave early, so I can't really--"

"I know it's late, I know we're tired, but we've got two dead cops here," Hotch cuts everyone off.

Spencer looks up and meets your eyes, but he quickly looks away. There will be time to question him later about this. Right now, you need to focus on the case.

"Alright, the resident, Rod Norris, was DOA. They're still trying to ID the remains of the second victim, whom they believe is his sixteen-year-old daughter Jordan. From the condition of the remains, she would have had to have been inside the house close to the source of the blast."

"Clearly, they used the bombing to set the officers up for an ambush," Emily says.

"It makes sense. It's a well-established terrorist tactic. First wave takes out civilians, the second wave takes out first responders."

"Do the locals think it's terrorism?"

"No, it's not exactly a tier-one target, but DHS did issue a terror alert for the border states yesterday, just because of the timing and nature of the attack."

"I've never heard of West Bune, Texas," you say. "It looks like it's close to the border. It could be traffickers sending a message."

"Whoever it is, they gunned down two cops and blew up a teenage girl. Until they're stopped, no one in that town is safe."

"We need to be cautious with the locals. They've lost two of their own, they're anxious, they're scared, and they're gonna want revenge. Wheels up in thirty."

The meeting is finished, so everyone gathers their things so they can prepare for take off. You and Spencer are one of the last ones to leave the conference room, and before he can get far, you stop him.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Spencer leaves your side before you can say more. Spencer wasn't like this a few days ago, so why is he acting like this now? The last time he closed himself off like this, he was taking Dilaudid, and that's something you hope he isn't dabbling in now. You trust Spencer with all your heart, so if he says he's fine, then he's fine... right?

Spencer's issues will have to be placed on the back burner while you figure out the case. The location on the video that JJ showed is your first stop. Fire and explosions are your enemy since fire can alter energies surrounding the crime scene. The only exception is that of mass murder, but that's not the case here.

"Sheriff Hallum? I'm Jennifer Jareau. This is the team, agents Hotchner, Rossi, Dr. Reid, Prentiss, Y/N, and Morgan. We're really sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. Where do we start?"

"With the first victim, Rod Norris. Who was he?" Rossi asks.

"He was the manager of the chemical plant at IBIS. He had no arrests in ten years since his wife left him. I can't blame her for leaving him, but it's a shame she left Jordan behind."

"What can you tell us about Jordan?"

"She's a sweet girl, but a little slow. She wasn't mentally challenged or anything like that, but I think her mother leaving took a toll on her."

"Sheriff, I'd like to gather your people back at the office so I can brief them all together," JJ suggests.

"Sure, but I'm staying here."

"Of course."

JJ leaves but leaves the officers at the crime scene since they will be able to help your team. You, Spencer, and Rossi go inside the house carefully, making sure not to hurt yourself. The blast seemed to stem from the kitchen, which makes sense since there is a main gas line in here.

"The blast was localized here. The room's been sealed off. There's some plastic, and duct tape on the door sills, too."

Rossi leans down and touches the black powder that is scattered on the floor with his gloved hand.

"Gunpowder."

"Okay, so it looks like he seals the kitchen, blows out the pilot light, and traps the gas in here near the primary charge. If she and Rod were here, when the explosion happens, Rod ends up in the tree and Jordan ends up in the field."

"They didn't care about the rest of the house, so the whole thing's designed to focus the blast on whoever came through that door. Question is, what was the trigger?"

"Rod. He was a smoker, they knew he would come through that door, and they knew he'd be smoking when he did it."

"What do you see?" Rossi asks you.

"Nothing, unfortunately. I feel the trauma here and the spirits, but I don't see them. Fire is kind of my enemy, if you'd like to think of it that way. Fire and explosions obliterates any energies left behind. It burns it away. Maybe I'll get something where the bodies landed."

You leave the house and join Emily, Derek, and Hotch outside with the sheriff near where the bodies of the cops were shot down. When the first responders came to check out the place, the unsub or unsubs shot and killed the two cops.

"Hit pattern says they were fired on full auto," Derek says when you join them. "Single bursts put them both down. That takes skill and some serious training."

"Letts lands here, still alive, and Savage falls there dead, but the unsub doesn't stop there. He walks past Letts and shoots Lou Savage in the face when he knows he's already dead."

"This seems personal," you state.

"They knew each other?"

"Enough to know Rod would enter through the back door while smoking."

"And that Lou was on duty and would respond," Derek adds.

"So, what's going on here?" Hallum asks.

"This wasn't terrorism, domestic or otherwise. Terrorists rarely know their victims, at least not personally."

"Because they knew Rod was a smoker who used his back door? They weren't just being thorough?"

"No. He walks past Letts, who was alive, shoots Savage in the face when he knows he's already dead. Responders were coming. That last shot was risky overkill."

"Overkill means rage. Rage means a close personal relationship," Spencer says from behind you.

Looks like they're done in the house.

"Rod and Lou were the specific targets of this attack."

"Sheriff, can you think of anyone with a close personal connection to Rod and Lou?" Derek asks.

"I didn't think about it because of the terror alert," Hallum sighs.

"Think about what?"

"Owen Savage. Lou's son was dating Jordan."

Sheriff Hallum takes you to Lou and Owen's house, but Owen isn't there. You didn't think he'd be at his house, but it was worth a shot to hope. If Owen did do this, then you need to check out his room and begin a working profile on him.

"How long have you known Lou?" Hotch asks the sheriff.

"My whole life."

"What about his wife? How did she die?"

"Hope died by a drunk driver in '02. Lou was in afghanistan. Owen lived with us until he got back."

"How long was Lou in the marines?" you ask.

"Twelve years. He was discharged so he could raise Owen."

"Is that why he resented them?" Spencer asks suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"Did Loud blame his wife and son for ending his career in the marines?"

"Loud was a good man."

"A good man that doesn't have a single photo of his dead wife or only son anywhere in his entire house."

Hotch glares at Spencer to shut up before taking over.

"I know this is hard, and if we had more time we would be more sensitive, but we don't."

"Hope was the drunk driver," Hallum sighs. "I didn't write it that way, but it didn't matter. Her drinking was no secret in town."

"Where's Owne's room?"

"Down the hall." Spencer leaves without another word, and you watch him walk off. Hallum points to a safe that is big enough to fit a couple of guns if you had to guess. "Here's the gun safe. I don't know the combination."

"Start with birthdays--Lou's, Owen's, and Hope's," Hotch says.

Derek tries their birthdays, but none of them open the safe.

"Try 11-10-75."

"November 10, 1975? What's that?" Derek asks and tries the combination.

"1775. Marine Corps birthday."

"You might have just sold me on that profiling of yours," Hallum chuckles.

Derek gets the safe open, and the only thing missing from it are the guns. Owen must have taken them.

"This is bad," Hallum sighs.

"How bad?"

"Lou was our tactical trainer. He had a whole collection of automatic weapons and handguns, which he taught Owen to shoot."

You excuse yourself from the main hallway and join Spencer in the bedroom. You want to ask him about Dilaudid and if he's taking it again, but you don't get the chance. Derek walks in seconds later.

"The gun safe is empty," he says to your boyfriend.

"That's a surprise," Spencer scoffs.

There is a picture of James Dean's porsche on Owen's wall, but no James Dean.

"That's James Dean's porsche, but no pictures of James Dean. That's a bad sign."

"Especially when your mother died in a car accident. Still haven't found the father of the year award," Spencer comments.

"Did you check his computer?" Derek asks when he sees Owen's desktop computer.

"It's password encrypted."

"Smart move if your dad is a cop."

"Yeah, assuming he cares enough to snoop."

"Spencer," you say in warning.

"Hey, Reid, check yourself. That sheriff out there wanted to take your head off. I think Hotch might have let him."

You three check Owen's closet and dresser, but every single clothing he owns is black, and that just adds to the pile that Owen isn't right in the head, and he committed these murders.

"All his clothes are black. So, Owen identifies as being a misunderstood loner. You know, I wish all our unsubs would just tack their profiles on their walls like this for us."

"This doesn't mean anything," Spencer says, a bit angry. "You grew up in Chicago, a high school jock, and did you have pictures of Scottie Pippen and Michael Jordan all over your walls with trophies everywhere?"

"Yeah, but you forgot Walter Payton. Not to mention the sexy ladies of the sports illustrated swimsuit issues," Derek grins, not seeing Spencer is kind of angry.

"Smart money says you didn't paint your mirrors black," Spencer says, opening the closet door wider to show the body-length mirror was spray-painted black.

"I guess Owen didn't like what he saw."

Suddenly, you hear someone yell outside on the front lawn, and Owen's bedroom faces the front of the property. You sweep the curtains aside to see what's going on. There is a woman outside, angry, and cops who are trying to stop her from entering the house. You, Derek, and Spencer leave the bedroom to join your team outside.

"Don't try to stop me! I need to get by! Is it true?"

"Sarah, please," Hallum sighs.

"If it's true, you need to tell me. Did Lou's freak son shoot Byron?"

Byron is Officer Letts, and Sarah must be his wife.

"Go home to your kids, Sarah. The kids need you at home."

"My children need their daddy," she cries. "Send them home, you don't need them. You know what to do. You find that little son of a bitch. You find him and do what's right."

She leaves the property, and you turn to Hotch with a sigh.

"She really thinks Owen did this. Why do I get the feeling she's not going to be the only one with that sentiment?"

"Stay here and work the room," Hotch says to Derek. "Reid, Y/N and I are going to go to the high school and talk to Owen's teachers and friends. We need to get a profile and figure out where he's going."

"He's heading out of town. I just got a call that they found his car out by the interstate right next to victim number five."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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belovedholland · 3 years ago

Note

If you write dad!tom could you do something with tessa always laying on top of reader's pregnant belly and putting her paw on it as a sign of protection and tom thinks it's the cutest thing ever

Protective Pet - [TH]

Pairing: Dad!Tom x reader

W/c: 0.6 k

Warnings: none

It was something that you and Tom had talked about a lot over the last year. Tom have always dreamt about becoming a dad and starting his own family. And ever since the two of you got married last year, the thought has constantly been on Tom's mind.

Every time Tom saw a baby, he would tell you how cute the little toddler was, and his baby fever would grow a little more.

You knew how much Tom wanted a baby, hiw could you not know, he wouldn't shot up about it. You knew Tom was ready for the big step, and has been for a long time, you just weren't.

But one day that changed, you didn't know what it was, but you suddenly had a baby fever as well, you were ready. When you told Tom the next day, he was so happy and excited, he couldn't wait.

It didn't take many tries before you got the two lines on the pregnancy test, you told Tom right away, and he was over the moon with the news. He would always ask how you were doing, and if anything new happened, he also started thinking about baby names right away, while still having no clue about the gender.

When you had gone into your third trimester Tom stopped working compleatly, wanting to be by your side, whenever you needed him.

"How are my three beautiful girls doing?" Tom asks as he comes into the living room, with two bags in his hands, filled with chinese food. You craved it, so Tom went out and bought it.

"Pretty good." He places the food down on the coffe table, gives you kiss on each cheek then your lips. He places a kiss on your belly and one for Tessa as well, she is laying on you lap with her head and paws pressed up against your stomach.

It was something she had always done, even before you were pregnant, but now it is a constant thing. In your first trimester, Tessa would have her whole head on your stomach, but when you got bigger, she stayed to the side to not hurt you or the baby. It is one of her ways of protecting you, just as well as not letting Tom get close to your belly, at first she would bark at him, when ever he got close, but she learned it was okay.

"Any updates?" Tom asks, just like he always does, he sits next to you, so you have Tessa on one side, and Tom on the other.

"Tom, you saw me 20 minutes ago, nothing has changed." You tell him, as he unpacks the bags of food.

"Well I have to ask." He stands up and finds you guys somethingto drink, a beer for himself, and a soda for you. "She's gonna be an amazing bog sister." Tom tells you as he enters the room again.

"Who?" You ask confused.

"Tessa of course, just look at her, so protective." The two of you look down at Tessa, still laying with her head in you lap, you softly start stroking her back, and Tom can't keep his eyes off the two of you - well, three off you. "She's gonna be so spoiled."

"Yeah probably."

"Just so you know, you are going to be the bad cop, because I already know, I won't be able to say no to her."

"What about we let Tessa be the bad cop?" You propose, knowing that neither of you, will be able to say no.

"Look at her, Tess is wrapped around her non-exciting fingers already." Tom reasons, looking down at Tessa.

"She has had fingers for like 20 weeks, Tom."

"My bad."

—

Taglist

#tom holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland blurbs #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #dad!tom holland #tomblurb

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artzee-bee · 3 years ago

Text

Devil’s got a weak spot | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer (Netflix)

Request: ”Can you do this please.Lucifer is vulnerable around the reader ,And Lucifer loves the reader. Lucifer is wounded to defend the reader. reader bandages his wounds and blames him because it happened to him for her.And they have been friends for many years and the reader knows that he is the devil ,And asks him why he is vulnerable and injured and finally lucifer confesses to her how much he loves her . Thank you. Your writings are wonderful. ”

Genre: angsty with fluffy ending

Warnings: canon typical violence and bad writting probably

~~~

You laid back the seat of Lucifer’s car as much as you could, hoping to get lost in the shadows. Without wanting to, you got sucked into one of his and Chloe’s investigations, but because you weren’t a cop, you had to stay in the car while they took care of business. Well, Lucifer at least. Decker promised that she was on her way with backup but Lucifer couldn’t wait, so he ventured into the old house alone.

You two were on your way to an art exhibition when Chloe called, all but pleading Lucifer to go investigate this specific house, saying she’d be on her way as soon as possible

“Our guy is there!”

“How could you possibly know that, detective?”

“Lucifer, right now is not the time! Please, you need to go!”

As instructed, he turned the car around and drove straight to the location. He didn’t have time to drive back to the other side of Los Angeles to drop you back home, and you were too terrified to be left alone on the streets like that, so you went with him. He was the devil after all so what bad could happen? He’d take care of you! Lucifer didn’t seem too worried either, as he kept telling you that everything would be taken care of in no time and you two could go on with your night, but the further away you got into the woods, the more unsettled you felt. You didn’t want to alarm Lucifer so you kept to yourself but as soon as he got up and left to look inside the building, you felt your heart beating out of your chest in panic.

You stared at the car ceiling, trying to remember the breathing exercises a friend taught you long ago, to no avail. With every deep breath you took, you could hear your heart beat louder and louder in your ears, until you heard something else. Different. Shuffling.

You tried not to move, knowing the safest thing for you would be to stay where you were, concealed by the darkness, but you had to know what was going on outside! Maybe it was just some animal, rummaging through the woods. You couldn’t be sure it was anything threatening at all unless you took a look!

Standing up in your chair slowly, you peek out of Lucifer’s window and see a man dressed in black, digging a hole in the ground. He seemed to be about your height, but much more buff. Broad shoulder with a thick beard. You pulled out your phone, thinking this is crucial evidence that Chloe and Lucifer must have! You recorded every move of the man, from the car. Your flashlight wasn’t on, obviously, which made the quality of the video pretty sucky, but it was definitely readable. You watched slowly as the man dug out what looked like a backpack or a small luggage. He quickly grabbed it and walked away, down the street you and Lucifer had come from. You tried to follow him with your camera as much as you could but eventually, he left your view. In a spur of curiosity and bravery, you opened Lucifer’s door just slightly. Enough to be able to peak your camera out and continue recording the man! It felt like an important job, like you were part of the team and, curiously, you found the feeling of panic diminishing, replaced instead by power and pride!

The car door swung open suddenly and your phone was snatched away by a tall blonde man, dressed in all black. He quickly dragged you out of the car and gagged you with a cloth. All of this happened so suddenly, you barely had time to react or fight him off. He was much stronger than you anyways, so when he slammed you face first onto the hood of the car, you could resist him in any way that mattered.

“Y/N!!” you heard Lucifer come from behind you. He must have just exited the house.

Everything was so confusing and you could barely process your surroundings. You got yanked away from the car, and turned to face Lucifer.

His hair was messed up and his nice shirt, the one he had bought just last weekend and had been so excited to show you, was now ruined with blood and gunk and mud. He looked out of breath but his fists were clenched, ready to fight.

“Not a single step further!” the blonde man said, as he glued the barrel of his gun to your temple. Your knees went weak.

“I’m not going to do anything!” Lucifer said, raising his hands in surrender “Surely we can come to an agreement!” “I highly doubt that!”

“There must be something that you want! That you’ve been dreaming of for years now! I can make it happen!” you saw right through Lucifer’s act. His voice was calm and somewhat conspirative, as it always was when he was granting people favours, but his eyes spoke of fear and uncertainty. Uncharacteristic of him.

“Tell me, what is it you truly desire?”

You repressed a smile as you felt the man slightly relax his grip around you. He fell into the devil’s spell. Eventually, the words flew out of his mouth.

“I want my mom back”

“Oh, well that can be arranged! Just let me know where she is and I can guarantee that…”

“She’s dead”

“Oh…” Lucifer’s smile faded

“Yeah, I’d love to see how you’re gonna do that!” you felt the vulnerability of the man translate into his body language. As you were still pressed against him, you felt his grip loosen significantly and decided this was the one chance you got. You kicked your foot back, hitting the man right in between his legs, forcing him to let go of you completely. You took off running towards the woods behind the car but you didn’t have a chance to get far before you heard Lucifer attack the man. You looked back at the fight, only to see the blonde fire his arm into your friend’s leg. For the first time ever you saw something on Lucifer’s face that you had never seen before: pain. He screeched in agony as he pulled away from the man but before the fight went any further, another shot was fired, hitting the blonde man in the shoulder. This one came from behind you. Chloe had arrived at the luckiest of moments. You were sure that had it not been for her, you would have been dead and the guy would have probably gotten away again. Now however, he was in the back of a cop car, on his way to the precinct. Decker and the rest of her team began scouting the place for evidence while you sat outside with Lucifer, carefully tending to his wounds.

“Why?”

“What do you mean darling?” “Oh, where do I even begin!” you joked, but could feel tears brimming in your eyes “First, why did you get hurt like this? You are invincible! You always have been, I mean hell, I’ve seen you get caught in a crossfire before and walk out of it just fine! What was it about this guy and this guy's weapon that made the DEVIL bleed!” you said, showing him the bloody cloth you had been using to clean off the wound “And second, why did you attack him like that? That was reckless! I mean you got SHOT for fuck’s sake!”

Lucifer took a deep breath before answering “ It wasn’t him or his gun. It was you! I am vulnerable when I am around you”

“How is that even possible?! “ “Amenediel had some ideas about that…” he tried to laughed it off

“Like what?” you could tell he was avoiding the subject but you weren’t having it! You were deeply concerned for the safety of your friend and him keeping secrets from you was not something you could tolerate any further

“He thinks I choose to be vulnerable when I’m around you…”

“Why would you do that? That’s ridiculous!”

“For the same reason that I attacked that man Y/N” he said, meeting your eyes for the first time since you had been left alone “Because I love you. And you aren’t just a friend to me”

You looked at him in astonishment and were unable to suppress the giggling fit that took over you. You shook your head lightly before leaning up to kiss Lucifer’s lips. He tasted of black coffee and cigarettes and fit perfectly against you. He kissed you back shyly, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

“You should have just told me instead of taking a bullet in the leg, you know? I understand how some people would find that more romantic. Risking your life for the other person and all that, but I prefer you safe and healthy. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am” he said with a smile

“Come here!” you replied, leaning back into him for another kiss.

#lucifer netflix #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar angst #lucifer morningstar fluff #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

Text

Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

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twdsunshine · 3 years ago

Text

Lost In The Act: Pt. 1

Summary: With an upcoming family gathering weighing heavy on her shoulders, Jess turns to Rick Grimes, her friend and colleague, for support. She knows the long weekend will be filled with pressure and expectations, piled on by her well-meaning parents who cannot understand why their sweet girl is still single. When Rick offers to accompany her as her date, she eagerly accepts, but, with long-suppressed feelings simmering beneath the surface and her past lurking around every corner, will she be able to keep up the act?

Pairings: Rick Grimes x OFC

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3,844

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

Author’s Note: This fic was commissioned by my beautiful birthday twinnie, @greghouse 🖤 and, I’ve gotta say, it was SO much fun to write. I mean, I feel like I’ve thrown every cheesy trope in the book at this one - mutual pining, friends to lovers, fake relationship, bed-sharing - and it is all the more delicious for it. And, I got so carried away that, what was gonna be a pretty lengthy one-shot has ended up as a mini-series! Thank you, Jess, for trusting me with another one of your fabulous ideas. And thank you all for reading. Enjoy!

*****

Rick watched through narrowed eyes as Jess paced back and forth across the lobby, her hand fisting in her hair as she spoke on the phone. It was her personal cell, he noticed, rather than one of the station lines, and he cast an anxious glance towards the sheriff’s office, relieved to see that the door was closed. Sheriff Ford was a fair man, but he had a strong belief in keeping work and home life separate, and he knew the secretary would be in for a verbal warning if she was caught taking private calls whilst on shift. Still, it would take someone braver than Rick to interrupt her just then, with her shoulders tensed and a general air of agitation emanating from her, her movements brisk and jerky. Something or someone, he could tell, was working on her last nerve, and, when she finally hung up the call, letting out a muted growl of frustration, he eased himself to his feet, rounded his desk and cautiously sidled out into the foyer to offer his support.

“Hey, everythin’ okay out here?”

“Fine,” Jess snapped before remembering where she was and who she was talking to, shaking her head to clear away the traces of anger that clouded her thoughts. “Sorry, just… family, y’know?”

Rick scoffed, because, boy, did he know, and Jess was well aware of that. His divorce had finally come through six months ago, after what felt like years of drawn-out negotiations, and he still felt drained from the process. It had not only created a rift between him and his son, who seemed to blame his father for the break-up, despite it having been Lori’s infidelity that had finally driven them apart, but also strained his relationship with his own parents, who seemed to carry a deep disappointment in him for not sticking around to try to work things out. To them, it seemed, divorce was a dirty word, and so he’d found himself increasingly isolated as his life fell apart around him, and only Jess’s easy friendship had gotten him through. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now.”

“Tonight? We could grab a drink after work?”

She thought on that for a moment before nodding, and Rick left her to take up her post at the front desk once more, returning to the reports he’d been typing up before finding himself distracted by her distress.

He used to love his job. A cop was all he’d ever wanted to be, and, when he’d finally earned the position of sheriff’s deputy, he had carried such a sense of pride with him whenever he put on the uniform. But, lately, perhaps because his partner had turned out to be the man that was sleeping with his wife, he’d lost his passion for the work. Shane had put in for a transfer once it became obvious that the two of them were no longer capable of working together, but, still, he felt as if the rest of his colleagues looked at him with pity, and Rick hated it. The truth was, if he was honest with himself, Shane had done him a favour, though he’d never admit it to the asshole’s face. His relationship with Lori had been slowly deteriorating for a long time, like a house in need of urgent renovation, but without owners who cared enough about its upkeep to put in the work. Her affair with Shane was really just the wrecking ball that had finally brought the ramshackle construction crashing down, nothing left in its wake but debris and dust that had seemed to take a lifetime to settle.

Jess had been the only one that he found never made him feel patronised or judged throughout the whole ordeal, the only person he could talk to without fearing that they’d either roll their eyes - Oh, man not this again - or snigger behind his back - Yeah, he was putting it to his old lady this whole time and the guy didn’t have a fuckin’ clue! She’d been through a bad break-up herself, the reason that she’d relocated to King County in the first place, and, though she’d never married the guy, she was still able to empathise with Rick’s struggles, and that had forged a bond, so that he thought she might just be the best friend he had left in the world. And, if he occasionally found himself considering her in a different way, appreciating the vivid colour of her eyes or wondering whether the sensitive skin of her throat was really as soft as it looked, he forced the thoughts away immediately. He couldn’t risk overstepping and making her uncomfortable, possibly even driving her away. Losing her, he’d realised long ago, might just push him over the edge.

As the door to the sheriff’s office swung open and Ford stepped out, casting a glance around the room to ensure that his staff were keeping themselves busy, Rick knuckled down, switching his mind back to the information he was transferring onto the system. The hands of the clock seemed to be moving in slow motion as the day dragged steadily onwards, and the anxiety he could sense radiating from Jess’s hunched figure as she slumped over her keyboard did nothing to speed things along.

*****

“So, what’ll it be?” Rick asked, slipping his jacket onto the back of a chair in the crowded bar as Jess settled herself at the small table. “Beer? Somethin’ stronger?”

“Ugh, I’d kill for something stronger, but I’ve gotta drive.” Her pout bordered on adorable, despite the genuine anguish behind it, and Rick couldn’t help but smile.

“What if I drop you home? I can swing by and pick you up in the mornin’, and we can grab your car on the way into work.”

It was obviously a tempting offer as, for the first time since the call that had gotten her into this state, his friend’s eyes lit up. “Whiskey then, please. Make it a double!”

The queue to order was long and bustling, with most of the clientele having just knocked off for the day and the establishment being the only half-decent place to grab a drink within a five-mile radius. As Rick waited, he found himself nodding or raising a hand to greet some familiar faces, something that came from being a cop on the beat in a small town, but he resisted any attempts to be drawn into conversation. He knew well enough that those kind of chats could easily wind on for hours, and he didn’t want the bother of having to find a way to excuse himself without being rude. Jess was his main priority tonight, and he was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else. Perhaps it was just his nature, or the experiences he’d had working the job, but, whenever he saw someone coiled as tightly as the secretary seemed to be right now, he always assumed the worst, and he honestly had no clue what to expect when he made it back to his seat. Was somebody dying? Thrown in prison? Had her house burnt down? His mind was working on overdrive now that he was counting down to the moment when she might finally open up, and, once he’d paid and was clasping a beer in one hand and a double shot of Jim Beam in the other, he hurried back to her side.

Jess had her head down and was texting, tapping furiously away at her phone as he slid her drink towards her and dropped into his chair. He waited for her to finish up, casting her phone aside with a surprising level of pent-up aggression, and watched in awe as she picked up her glass and swallowed half the contents in one go. “Wow.”

“Sorry,” she murmured, coughing to clear the residual burn from her throat and toying with the tumbler, twisting it this way and that so that the amber liquid reflected the light. “I’m really sorry. This is all just really dumb and petty, and you’re probably gonna think I’m just making a massive deal out of nothing.”

“Try me.” Rick held her gaze, trying to ignore the sheen of liquor that clung to her lips, distracting as it might be. “C’mon, since when do we keep secrets from each other? You’ve seen me at my worst, Jess, my very worst, and you didn’t judge me. Let me help, if I can. At the very least, it might feel good to get it off your chest.”

Jess huffed a sigh, leaning back in her seat and releasing her glass to drum her nails against the tabletop. “Alright. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologisin’.”

“Right, sorry,” she said again, gracing Rick with a small smile when he rolled his eyes. “So, it’s my dad’s sixtieth birthday next week, and, apparently, my mom’s decided to throw him a party.”

“You don’t like parties?”

“I love parties,” Jess sighed, “just not when it’s gonna mean my entire family under one roof for the best part of three whole days.”

“I thought you were close to your folks.”

“I am. It’s just… They worry. They love to worry. It’s what parents do, I know,” she said, cutting off Rick’s intention to say exactly that, because she knew how much he worried about Carl, especially now that he didn’t have the luxury of seeing him every day. “But right now they’re pretty much just focused on the fact that I’m still single, and I have been since everything with my ex fell apart, and, for some reason, that’s all they ever want to talk about. If I show up there alone, that’s gonna be the entire topic of conversation all weekend, I know it. Oh, Jess, you’re not getting any younger, y’know? Wouldn’t you like to find a nice man to settle down with? You’ve been alone for such a long time. Like, I don’t already know that, right? I am well aware of exactly how long it’s been!”

Rick couldn’t help but smirk at her exaggerated impression of what he could only guess was her mother’s voice, though he quickly schooled his features into something more sympathetic when her brow creased with a frown.

“It’s just… I’m doing okay, y’know? I’ve got a nice place, savings, a good job that I enjoy, but it’s like none of that means anything if I don’t have a man by my side or a ring on my finger. And it pisses me off.”

“So, what are you gonna do?” Rick asked, curious. She’d had several hours to think it through now, and he wondered if she’d come to any conclusions.

“Well, I thought about just not going,” she confessed. “Was gonna tell them I couldn’t get the time off work or that I’d been asked to put in some overtime or something. It’s not like they know my shift pattern.” Rick arched his brow in acknowledgement as she reached for her discarded phone and cast an eye over the screen. “But then I got a message from my dad telling me how much he’s looking forward to seeing me, and I can’t let him down like that. I just can’t.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Maybe four or five months ago. I don’t go back to visit as much as I probably should.”

Rick nodded slowly, processing the information, a suggestion lingering on the tip of his tongue. It seemed almost too easy though, and he paused to take a swig of his beer, giving himself a moment longer to think it through before deciding, with a shrug, that he might as well spit it out. “You could take me along.”

Jess nearly choked on the dregs of whiskey she’d just tipped into her mouth. “Wh-what?”

“As your date.” Rick shrugged again, wondering if the blush that he could feel spreading up his neck was obvious to the woman sitting across from him. “I’m a catch, I’ll have you know: good job; got my own place; full head of hair; make cute kids. Any parents would be glad to have me as a potential son-in-law.”

“I don’t know.” It wasn’t a flat-out rejection, at least, and Rick could see her mind working, taking in the offer and trying to figure out if it was worth a shot. “I mean, I’ve mentioned you to them, sure, but never as more than a friend. Besides, why would you even want to put yourself through that? These people… They’re like hyenas, Rick. One scent of fresh meat and they’ll be all over you. It’ll be an interrogation, all weekend long. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask,” Rick pointed out. “I offered. Besides, I’m a cop. If I can’t stand up under interrogation then I really have no business doin’ the job, right?”

“My mom would make Ford cry like a baby.”

“Ford’s not as tough as he looks.” He watched as Jess gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment, lost in thought, and he wondered if she was trying to picture it: the two of them showing up as a couple. It was definitely what he was doing in his head, and it was alarmingly easy to imagine showing up to a party with her on his arm. “C’mon, Jess, let me do this for you. I owe you so much for the way you put up with me through everythin’ with Lori. This can make us even.”

Her eyes locked on his and lingered there for a moment, apparently searching for any trace of doubt in his gaze. Then, finding none, she gave a short, sharp nod. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. You never know, it might even be fun.”

*****

They spent the next couple of hours coming up with a story that would be believable enough that it would convince Jess’s family that the relationship wasn’t simply a farce. In the end, they determined it would be best to keep it simple and as near to the truth as they could get: they’d met through work, grown close when Jess was supporting Rick through a messy divorce, and then started to date once the papers had come through. That would mean they’d been together for around six months by now, of course, but Jess thought she could get away with explaining to her mom that she’d kept it quiet because of the risk that came from getting involved with a coworker. It made some kind of sense, so Rick was more than happy to go along with that. Listening to his increasingly inebriated friend plot out the course of their love story made something in his chest clench painfully, and he found himself leaning closer, drawn in by her tales, wishing that things really had worked out that way. Internally, he was cursing himself already, wondering how he was supposed to get through a weekend of pretending, when just imagining what could have been was driving him crazy, but he’d made his commitment now, and there was no way he was going to let her down. It would be worth it to see her happy.

When she was no longer quite coherent, her words slurred and her eyes a little too unfocused for Rick’s liking, he coaxed her out of her seat, letting her lean heavily on him as he guided her out of the bar. His truck was parked in the far corner of the lot, and she wobbled alarmingly as she tried to climb into the passenger seat, almost toppling backwards before Rick planted his hands on her waist and helped her in. She was warm and supple beneath his fingers, and he knew he held on for a beat too long, forcing himself away and letting the door fall closed. It was just as precarious helping her down from the cab when they reached her block, and, when she fell against his chest, he decided it would be easier just to slip one arm around her back and another beneath her knees and carry her home. She wriggled in his grasp, giggling like she was far younger than her years before relaxing against him, letting her head fall against his shoulder as he traversed the path that led up to her porch.

“You’re kinda great, y’know that?” Rick grinned at her drunken declaration, taking her keys from her fumbling grip so he could unlock her door and push her gently over the threshold. “Best fake boyfriend ever!”

“Make sure you drink plenty of water before you turn in,” he instructed her, trying his best to ignore her close proximity and the adoration in her gaze, “and eat somethin’. But maybe don’t cook. Don’t want you burnin’ the house down now.”

His words largely seemed to fall on deaf ears, though, as she plastered herself against him, arms coiling around his neck to draw him down to her level, allowing her to brush sloppy kisses over his cheeks. He was used to the affectionate side that came out in her when she’d been drinking, but tonight she was especially effusive, spurred on by her gratitude. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

The scent of whiskey was heavy on her breath, and he wanted nothing more than to taste it on her tongue and drink her in. Instead, he pulled away. “Alright, save it for the weekend, Jess.”

What the hell had he let himself in for?

*****

Jess woke with a pounding headache, her mouth dry, still clad in the blouse and skirt she’d worn for work the day before. For a brief moment, she just lay there, sprawled across her bed, trying to put together what had happened the previous evening, and then it all came flooding back, and she let out a loud groan. She’d agreed that Rick could accompany her to her parents’ house, to her father’s sixtieth birthday party no less, as her boyfriend, no doubt opening the both of them up to a deluge of uncomfortable questions, and, to pull it off, there would have to be kissing and touching and, in the harsh light of day, she was almost certain that it would be more than she could take. What on earth had she been thinking?

It wasn’t that she was in love with the deputy, it really wasn’t. She’d told herself that she wouldn’t let those sort of emotions in again after her last trainwreck of a relationship had sent her fleeing from her hometown and turning her whole life upside down to escape the fallout. It was just that Rick was such an easy man to fall for. It was his gentle manner, his easy smile and the mischievous sparkle of those blue eyes that never failed to bring a flush of heat to her cheeks. And it was his sensitivity, the way he spoke about the breakdown of his marriage, never voicing any sort of malice towards his ex-wife, no matter how vicious the divorce became. She knew it had hurt him, that Lori’s betrayal was made all the worse because it was his partner that she’d chosen to cheat with, but still he bit his tongue, never speaking of her with anything but respect and, perhaps, a hint of weariness, as if he was just completely drained by it all. It said something about the man, she thought, that he could take those sorts of hits and still resist the urge to let things turn nasty. So, really, who could judge her for occasionally letting her mind wander and wondering if there might be the possibility of something more between them? Who wouldn’t want to succumb to that old-fashioned southern charm that seemed to drip from Rick’s tongue like nectar? It would take a stronger woman than she could claim to be.

At the sound of a knock on the door, Jess resisted the urge to bury her face in her pillow and simply will the world away for another few hours, instead crawling from her pit and stumbling down the hall on shaky legs, tugging it open to find Rick, lounging against the porch railings, not even attempting to mask his amusement as his gaze combed over her dishevelled state. Jess only grunted in greeting, already turning away.

“Well, good mornin’ to you too, sunshine.” He sounded far too chipper, but then she supposed he would, having limited himself to just a beer or two so that he’d been able to drive them both home. “You’re runnin’ late.”

“I know.”

“You look like hell.”

“I know that too.” Heading for the kitchen, she snagged a box of cereal from the counter, digging into it to scoop up a handful and eating it dry, washing it down with a large glass of water. It churned in her gut, and she thought for one horrifying moment that she might be sick, but she pulled it together, trying to ignore Rick’s chuckle. “Give me ten minutes. I’ve just gotta shower.”

The reflection that greeted her in the bathroom mirror once she’d left Rick to make his own coffee was even worse than she’d realised. Her dark hair was a wild tangle on her head, as if she’d tossed and turned the whole night through, and the traces of yesterday’s make-up were smeared around her eyes, dark streaks contrasting harshly with the sickly pallor of her skin. Her clothes were creased and rucked up around her hips and bust, and she honestly looked like the walking dead, she thought. She tried to swallow her embarrassment, not allowing herself to think too long on the way Rick’s own dark curls were slicked neatly back from his clean-shaven face, his uniform perfectly pressed and clinging to the finely-muscled physique beneath. He was always so infuriatingly well put-together, which had an annoying tendency to highlight just how much of a mess she could be. Still, it hadn’t deterred him from extending the offer to pose as her lover in front of her family, so she supposed he must not judge her too harshly.

Fifteen minutes later, showered and dressed in clean clothes, Jess was climbing back into the passenger seat of Rick’s truck, reciting, at his insistence, the story they’d concocted about how they’d got together. They had the best part of a week to get the information down pat, but, she supposed, he was probably worried that it had all been lost in the blur of whiskey indulgence. In fact, she remembered it almost too easily, as if she’d laid awake on countless nights wishing that things had actually worked out that way before reminding herself that any relationship was really more risk than she wanted to open herself up to, let alone one with a coworker. Still, Rick shot her a proud look when she’d poured out every detail, nodding slowly as he rolled away from the kerb and started down the street.

“I think we might just pull this off.”

Jess sighed. “I really hope so.

*****

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 14) - Keep Close

Summary: The Ackles have the Padalecki’s over for dinner and let it slip that they’re engaged. Things seem to be going well but the anniversary of the accident is coming up and the reader comes up with the Ackles taking their first vacation together as a means of distracting Jensen as well reconnecting with Ray...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of sex, mention of a dead parent/spouse, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

“I’m stuffed,” said Jensen that night, the kids running around playing soccer in the yard after dinner.

“I need that chicken recipe,” said Jared.

“I’ll write it down for you guys,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “You can do it with breast too if you like that better.”

“I want exactly this like, everyday from now on,” said Jared. Gen rolled her eyes and Jensen pulled out his phone. “Want me to take a pic?”

“I don’t need your freakishly long arms just yet,” chuckled Jensen. He turned around and took one of the four of you at the table before handing off his phone. “Mind getting one of us?”

“Your mom harassing you for engagement photos already?” asked Gen.

“By the time we were leaving they were both asking for photos and being obnoxious. Better than they were though,” said Jensen, smiling beside you. Jared took a few more and handed the phone back.

“I still can’t believe your parents would act like that,” said Gen. “I mean obviously I’m super happy it got fixed but that’s so unlike them.”

“They made a mistake is all,” you said with a smile. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going to finish this beer in the pool.”

“I think I’ll join you,” said Jared. He stood up and had a look on his face you caught too late. Before you knew it he had you picked up and was jogging over to the deep end and jumping in with you.

“Jared!” you said when you popped up. He giggled and swam off to the shallow end. “After I helped pick up the plates ya big lug.”

“We got it,” said Jensen, carrying over two beer cans and handing them to you. “We’ll join you guys in a few.”

About ten minutes later Jensen was leaning against the side of the pool in his bright red swim trunks, handing you the other half of his cookie cake piece.

“So any big plans for the wedding?” asked Jared, sat on the pool steps with Gen.

“I have a thought,” you said, turning to Jensen. “I haven’t discussed it with Jensen yet.”

“Vegas. Shotgun wedding,” he laughed. You shook your head and he grinned. “You’re thinking the farm, aren’t you.”

“What do you think? It could be outdoor or indoor, whatever it needs to be depending on the weather.”

“I’d love that,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “That’d be perfect for us.”

“You own a farm?” asked Jared.

“Yeah, ten minutes from the brewery.”

“Dudes. You can open bar with your own beer. Oh and dibs on being a groomsmen.”

“Like that wasn’t gonna happen,” said Jensen.

“I don’t know on that,” you said. Jared’s face fell and you shook your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be one. Of course you would. I just don’t have a lot of close girlfriends. I think it’d be weird if Jensen had a ton and…”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” said Gen. “We didn’t have an even number at our wedding.”

“We got time to figure that stuff out,” said Jensen, holding your waist. You finished the last bite of cookie and hummed.

“So you two having a kid?” asked Jared. Gen whacked his chest and he shrugged.

“Jesus, Jare. Don’t ask that.”

“They’re our best friends and godparents to our children...although I guess Y/N didn’t know that she inherited that until now but come on, I know you’re wondering too.”

“Shut up,” said Gen, crossing her arms. “Obviously if they decide, they’ll tell us when it happens.”

“Yeah, I think there’ll be at least one,” you laughed. Gen lit up and turned to Jared.

“Last time they said they were having a baby guess what we did? I can’t handle no more babies,” said Jared.

“Can you even get that thing up anymore?” teased Jensen, sipping on his beer.

“You’re one to talk, old man.”

“That shit still works just fine.”

“Just fine?” shot back Jared.

“Oh my God. You’re both good at sex. Y/N be grateful you’ve missed this same conversation over and over for the past sixteen odd years,” said Gen.

“I’m still taller,” said Jared with a smirk.

“I can last longer,” said Jensen with one of his own. They narrowed their eyes at one another and Jared stood up.

“Go wrestle on the grass,” groaned Gen. They both huffed and got out of the pool before starting to playfully wrestle. “See, what you may not realize yet is you have another child right there.”

“Yeah but he’s hot,” you said, Gen laughing while you sat beside her. “Do you guys really talk about sex with each other?”

“Yes and no. The boys are you know, boys. They’d combust if they didn’t tease each other. I wouldn’t say there’s like, intimate details or anything ever shared. They’re both pretty private about that sort of thing. Dee and I would talk but more so say we had fun the night before. Shit we probably talked about sex toys more than anything.”

You stopped mid sip of your beer and she laughed.

“When your guy is thousands of miles away for that long out of the year, you gotta get off on your own. You get pretty good at phone sex too. You’re lucky. Jensen won’t be staying away so long ever again he said.”

“No, no. But uh...before Jensen I’d had the same boyfriend forever and he was as vanilla as could be. We didn’t do that stuff really together.”

“I can text you some links to stuff. It’s not like you have to go in some scary store or anything. It’s discrete and I think a small vibe would be great to start with. You can use it during sex or foreplay or whatever. Just you know, have fun.”

“Jensen and I kinda got busted by the cops a week or so back for...activities in the backseat,” you said. She started to laugh and you groaned. “Thankfully it was his friend that caught us so he let us off the hook but...it was kinda fun.”

“Good,” she said, sighing as Jensen pinned Jared down. “Hey so yeah about that wedding thing. Jared had two more groomsmen than I had girls. It doesn’t have to be matchy, matchy, you know?”

“I know. I don’t know if…” you trailed off. “I lost my friend group when I broke it off with my last boyfriend. We’d been together for over ten years and I kept turning down his proposals and they didn’t like that. I have some nanny friends but not a lot and no one I’m really close to. I don’t know if I’d even get more than five people to come for me. Everyone else is his family and friends and I didn’t think about that until just now. I mean what would they think, seeing that? I don’t know if I even want anyone there now.”

“I think what they’d see is someone they care about marrying someone he loves. Just because we’re Jensen’s friends doesn’t mean we’re not your friends too. I know we’re still getting to know each other but we’ll be as close as those two eventually. Ruthie was texting me and we’re having a girls night the next convention in Dallas. You literally have a built in crew ready to go from the show, the girls and the guys. You are so coming with me to the next night I have with my local girlfriends and you got our family. You even got Dee’s parents. You have more than you know, sweetie.”

“I never had a best friend growing up except for my mom. Until Jensen,” you said. “I’ve never really been good at the friend thing.”

“Were you bullied in school?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t tell anyone besides Jared but my dad wasn’t a good person. He hurt me and so I was afraid of getting in trouble so I didn’t talk to other kids all that much until I got old enough to understand what he was doing was wrong and that’s how I ended up being adopted.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do anything about it now. But I can have it not control my life too. I’ve been pretty good since I was nine in that department. My mom dying sucked and things have been up and down but I like where I am now. This is easily the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Jens’s not perfect.”

“I know. But he’s good enough. He gave me a certain confidence to live my life, like really live it.”

“He’s alright,” she smiled. “You know I have an idea about this bridesmaids thing you might like.”

“You?”

“Oh I would for sure but I meant more so I know two little girls that wouldn’t mind. Maybe there’s a boy too,” she said.

“I’m gonna need you to be my wedding planner at this rate,” you said.

“Job accepted,” she said. “I say we go farmhouse modern style.”

“Gen. I got engaged like two weeks ago. We have time,” you said. “We don’t even have a date.”

“At the very least can we go dress shopping?” she asked.

“I’m going to regret this,” you sighed as Jensen stepped back in the water.

“Get yourself a stronger man, Padalecki. That one is weak,” he said. Jared followed him right after and went to tackle him when Gen caught his arm.

“Boys, not in the water,” she said.

“Chicken?” asked Jensen.

“Losers pick up the tab for when we go out this weekend for dinner. Deal?” asked Jared.

“Well in that case, you’re on.”

Two Weeks Later

“Jensen,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair while he absentmindedly burnt some eggs. “You okay babe?”

“Yeah. We ought to pack up the kids, get on the road soon if we’re gonna hit the beach.”

“I’m gonna drive, okay?” you asked. He nodded and you got out the eggs again, making up a new batch. “Do you want to talk to Ray?”

“Why?” he asked quietly, leaning back against the counter.

“Anniversaries of traumatic events can be triggering,” you said. “My mom died two days ago. Well, you know what I mean.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“Because it doesn’t trigger me anymore. But it did and this is the first time...the first one is the roughest.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I ought to talk to him.”

“Eat your breakfast. I’ll give him a call and get the kids ready while you guys talk, okay?” you said.

“Thank you,” he said. You kissed his cheek and hugged him before you went upstairs for your phone. It rang a few times but Ray finally answered, noise in the background.

“Y/N. Everything alright?” he asked.

“Hey. Yeah. We’re...we’re pretty good. Today’s the first anniversary of Jensen’s-”

“Ah. I understand.”

“Listen, I know it’s a Sunday and you don’t work the weekends but would you mind talking to him for a few minutes? We’re going down to Galveston for the week in a bit but he’s off this morning.”

“I’d talk to him even if he wasn’t your fiance but especially because of that. You know we’re actually down here ourselves for a few days. Just got down yesterday. If you guys are around...maybe we could get together for that swim.”

“I’d like that. You okay?” you asked.

“I always get a little down on the day but Sarah understands. You understand.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna put Jensen on and um, maybe we can meet at Arillo’s for dinner?”

“We got a reservation there ourselves tonight. How many in your crew? Five? I’ll call and ask for an update.”

“Yeah there’s five of us. Um, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible as a teenager after mom. You loved her as much as I did.”

“Thank you but you don’t have to apologize for that. You got too much pain in your life. I’m glad you found the good stuff too.”

“Are Geroge and Taylor there?” you asked.

“Yeah kids are here. Taylor’s got some internship but she does it online half the day and George is some research assistant thing for one of his professors but same kinda deal. We leave them to work in the morning while Sarah and I have some fun. Want me to let them know you’re coming?”

“Probably a good idea. Not sure how they’ll react,” you said, Jensen poking his head into the bedroom. “Here’s Jensen.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll see you guys soon.”

You handed the phone to Jensen and finished up packing while he sat on the bed. You tried to leave him be but couldn’t help listening in.

“Yeah I’m anxious...I don’t want her to drive down today...you know why...I guess...probably...I don’t want to be freaking out for three hours in the car...because it’s today...I know...I know...so I have to suck it up...I don’t want to have a panic attack in the car with the kids...no I haven’t...I’m scared I will though...yeah...I understand...dude that sounds so stupid...that’s not medically anything...no I don’t have my doctorate...I don’t wanna ask her...I said I don’t want to, not that I wouldn’t...I know...I will...maybe I’ll try that too...yeah, Y/N said the first year is the roughest too...I’ll let her be in charge until we get down to the beach today. I think I’ll feel better after the car...yeah I kinda figured out what she was doing planning a trip on today of all days...I need it...really? Yeah, I’m looking forward to meeting up down there too...thanks Ray.”

You finished with your suitcase and had his open for him when he walked into the closet. He swallowed and handed your phone back.

“All good?” you asked.

“Ray thought it might be a good idea if I had something of yours with me on the way down, to keep on me since I’m...anxious this morning about being in a car.”

“Something of mine…” you said, looking at your side of the closet. “Why don’t you pack up and I’ll get you something before the road, okay?”

He nodded and twenty minutes and about three bathroom trips later the SUV was packed up. You hopped behind the wheel, Jensen tapping the arm rest from the passenger seat.

“Here,” you said, reaching into your pocket, pulling out a bracelet. It was fabric, the kind made from craft string, white, rusty orange and a light tan color mixed together.

“I’ve never seen this,” he said as he held it between his fingers.

“I got it on vacation with mom and Ray. Last one we went on,” you said, tying it around his wrist. “You have it.”

He stared at you as you turned the engine on, watching you backout.

“This is too important for me to take,” he said quietly.

“It’s fabric. I want you to have it, okay?” you said, pulling onto the street and closing the gate. He nodded and you turned the radio on low. “Coffee run?”

“Yeah. Coffee sounds good right about now.”

You were only about fifteen or so minutes away from the beach house you’d rented. The kids were either taking naps in the backseats or watching a movie on the ipad. You risked a glance at Jensen, his fingers absently toying with the bracelet while he looked out the window, the radio on low.

“How you doing big guy?” you asked as you pulled off to the exit ramp.

“Pretty good now,” he said softly.

“Mind navigating for me?” you asked. He hummed and picked up your phone from where it sat in the console the past few hours. About twenty minutes or so you were stretching outside of the car, Jensen opening the front door of the house with the code you’d been given. The kids climbed out and were good about each taking their own backpacks while you and Jensen gathered up the rest.

“Come here,” he said, leaving the bags by his feet and kissing you against the side of the car. You grinned and he picked you up in a big squeezing hug. “I love you.”

“I know,” you said. He set you down and kissed you again. “You seem like yourself again.”

“I needed that push, get over that fear. But now, I can enjoy my day with my girl and my kiddos and apparently we are having dinner with Ray and his family tonight?” he asked.

“If that’s alright,” you said.

“One hundred percent,” he said, Arrow jumping up and down nearby. “Honey, go use the bathroom in the house if you have to go.”

“No I’m excited!” she said. “Can we go play on the beach? Pretty please?”

“Hm, give daddy fifteen minutes and then we can go?” he asked. She turned to you and grinned.

“We’ll go really soon sweetie. I promise.”

“Hey guys,” said Jensen an hour later, the five of you down on the beach and mostly watching them build a sandcastle together. “Y/N and I want to tell you something.”

“Is it that you guys are getting married?” asked JJ, patting some sand with her shovel. You glanced at Jensen and he shrugged. “You were talking to Aunt Gen and Uncle Jared about it last night, right?”

“Well, yes we were,” said Jensen. “I suppose we were a little louder than we thought. But yes, Y/N and I have decided to get married. We’re not sure when exactly but in the next year I can say.”

“So we have a mom again?” asked Arrow, fixing her corner of the castle that kept caving in.

“Well you guys are kinda lucky. You’ll get two moms,” he said. “How’s that sound?”

“We missed mom’s day,” she said with a sigh. “Right?”

“We’ll catch it next year, promise,” said Jensen. “Do you guys have any questions or anything you want to say?”

“Do we call you mom now?” asked JJ.

“You guys call me whatever you want,” you said.

“Can we call you mom?” she asked. You nodded and she went back to playing in the sand.

“Anything else guys?” asked Jensen.

“Can I get a giraffe?” asked Zeppelin while he figured out how much water to add to the sand to get it to stick together.

“No sweetie. They wouldn’t fit at our house,” said Jensen.

“Darn it,” he said.

“I can tell you’re all so invested in this topic,” chuckled Jensen.

“Oh! Can my flower girl dress be purple?” asked JJ.

“Your dress can be whatever color you want it to be,” you said.

“Awesome,” she said. “Or black and purple. With lightning stripes.”

“Ah, I knew the classic rock would finally pay off,” said Jensen.

“Maybe Daddy’s suit can be black and white stripes, like a tiger,” you said.

“Like a White Snake music video more like it,” he laughed. “We’ll figure all that stuff out. We wanted to make sure you guys knew was all and if you have any questions or were nervous or anything you know you can ask either one of us.”

“Mom makes you happy again. Of course you gotta marry her!” said Arrow. “Oh and get her a pony. Girls like that.”

“Would you care for a pony, sweetheart?” asked Jensen as he shook his head.

“Are we talking mustang kind of pony?” you asked.

“That’s my girl,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, kissing your cheek. “Let dad get a picture of you guys. We’re on vacation after all.”

Five Hours Later

“Jensen,” you said, changing into a light summer top and a pair of denim shorts after your shower. He was standing by his suitcase undressed, trailing his finger over his scar. “Honey?”

“A year ago was the worst day of my life and today was a really great one. I get to meet Ray more and even Sarah and the kids who all sound great and...I’m really happy I’m still here to see all this.”

“Me too,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Wear your red underwear.”

“Is that a request?”

“I like how you look when you take it off,” you said, gently smacking his ass as you went to go fix your hair.

“I am so grateful I found you,” he said to himself. You smiled and brushed your teeth quickly before checking yourself over and taking a selfie. You sat up on the counter and opened instagram, still silently grateful you’d always had it on private. There was nothing bad on it but Jensen and Jared had tagged you before and all of the comments always seemed to be negative.

“How do I look?” asked Jensen, walking in wearing a short sleeve navy button down and his red underwear.

“So sexy,” you giggled, Jensen digging through his other bag and finding his khaki shorts.

“Can I get away with sneakers and a backwards baseball cap at this restaurant?” he asked.

“Totally. We always eat outside. It’s near the pier,” you said, putting up your post.

“Taking more pictures I can show off of you again?” he asked, grabbing your brush and getting some control of his damp hair back.

“Nobody even sees my instagram hardly,” you said.

“You know the internet knows we’re dating, right.”

“I’m pretty sure your fans still aren’t okay with that fact, even if they know.”

“Oh you’re mistaking the nutjobs for actual fans. The real ones, those guys are cool and nice. I actually got a lot of care packages and things from them last year. Still do. They really are good people. Those other ones that leave nasty comments? Fuck them. That shit don’t bother me anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying family and friends know. Can I show off the woman I love to the world?” You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in front of you, his head cocking.

“Yeah,” you said. “Better late than never.”

“Okay,” he said. “For now though, I’m looking forward to this dinner.”

“I hope it goes well. It’s George and Taylor I’m more worried about. They were kids when I decided to stop coming around. I only knew them maybe two years, if even that. I know they were upset.”

“Give them some credit. Ray raised them too after all.”

“I’m all set!” said Zeppelin, walking into the bathroom with his paw patrol shirt and nothing else on.

“At least I was gonna wear underwear,” chuckled Jensen. “Little dude. Get some undies on and shorts in the next two minutes or else…” he trailed off as he came in and hugged Jensen’s leg.

“I love you, daddy,” he said.

“I love you.”

“Can we get a giraffe now?” he asked. Jensen rolled his eyes and you released him.

“Let’s go finish getting you dressed, buddy.”

“So you guys were Sarah’s fosters?” asked Jensen towards the end of dinner, all three kids passed out asleep in the stroller or on the bench besides you while you picked at your shared dessert. Neither George or Taylor had said much aside from introducing themselves.

“Guys,” said Ray, nudging Taylor. “I’m sorry for our children’s rudeness. I was afraid of this.”

“Shut up,” they both said, Sarah sighing.

“The kids were both big fans of Supernatural. They grew up watching it with me. It was something we bonded over at first in fact,” she said.

“Oh,” said Jensen, a smirk forming on his face. “Sam or Dean girls? George come on buddy, it’s okay.”

“This isn’t happening,” said Taylor, her eyes squeezed shut.

“So you guys don’t want to hear about the movie, gotcha,” he said, both of them snapping their heads up.

“He really is a dork,” you said.

“Movie?” asked George.

“Someday. You can count on it,” said Jensen. “Maybe I’ll go easy on you guys and ask what mom was?”

“You boys are a little young for my tastes but honestly the guy who played John was very attractive,” she said.

“Even I’d hit that,” said Ray, Sarah laughing to herself.

“You can see Ray wins his ladies over with his charm,” you said, glancing at Taylor and George. “Like you guys could literally ask anything you ever wanted about the show and get an unfiltered answer if you want.”

“Did you really keep the car?” asked George. Jensen nodded and held up his finger.

“When we’re back in town, you guys come over and you can take a spin in it,” he said.

“Okay, he’s cool with me,” said George. You cocked your head and he smiled. “That was the car from the show I always told you about.”

“Oh. I thought you were talking about batman or something,” you said, pursing your lips. “Sorry I wasn’t…”

“You always sucked at pretending to be happy,” said Taylor. You looked down and nodded. “We get it. You had to do your own thing.”

“Don’t hate me for leaving?”

“Maybe when we were little,” she said. “But we’re older and we get that you probably felt like a fifth wheel.”

“Yeah. A lot really,” you said. “It worked out though.”

“She’s a Dean girl by the way,” said Ray, cracking up as Taylor whacked his arm.

“Dad! Oh my God no I’m not! I like Sam!” she said.

“Want to talk to him?” grinned Jensen. Her face went red and you heard a quiet chuckle at the table. “You’re right, we’ll save that for in person.”

“You basically are marrying Dean Winchester without like, the trauma,” she said. Jensen tensed up but kept a smile on his face. You knew Ray caught it when he gave him a simple nod.

“Trauma’s not inherently bad,” said Ray. “Everyone at this table has gone through some.”

“I know, dad,” she said quietly. She looked at George and he nodded. “Our parents were in a house fire. So were we. I was five and Georgie was four.”

“She carried him out and went next door for help,” you said.

“I was in a car accident last year,” said Jensen. You turned your head. It wasn’t public knowledge that he was in the car. He’d flat out told you that aside from family and a few friends, no one besides you knew. “I almost died. My wife did but for other reasons. You can still have trauma and a really good life.”

“Very good point, Jensen,” said Ray. “You two rugrats wouldn’t be around if mom and I had moped around in our misery forever.”

“Was he always such a sap?” asked George.

“From the day I met him,” you said, Jensen grabbing your hand under the table. “Would you mind watching the kids for a second?”

“Not at all,” he said. You excused yourself and brought Jensen along with you, walking out to the beach area, the breeze cool but light.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I can talk about it now. I went from having the worst year of my life to one of the best. Nothing bad’s gonna happen for saying what really happened. I want to let all that shit go and have the rest of that really good life I was talking about.”

“For someone who keeps a lot inside I sure have noticed a difference in you the past few weeks.”

“To quote both of the loves of my life, I gotta let that shit out more regularly,” he said. You smiled and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, giving him a kiss.

“You know that’s what we call growth, babe.”

“I very easily could have gone the opposite way this year.”

“But you didn’t, cause you tried even though it sucks sometimes. I love you but I extra love happy you and you’re definitely a happier guy now than when I met you.”

“So are you, honey,” he said. “Must make a pretty good team or something.”

“Oh yeah, maybe that’s it.”

“We should honestly get like, married or something, you know?” he teased.

“First I have to know though, are you willing to do cookie cake for a wedding cake?”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” he said. “The real questions is, are you willing to deal with the eventual dad bod that will happen as a result?”

“I love this bod, but I don’t love you for this bod,” you said.

“Thank you for today,” he said softly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said. He grinned and kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly. “What are best friends for?”

“Everything?”

“Hell yeah they are Ackles.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 15 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen series #jensen x reader #rpf #rpf series #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years ago

Text

Seasons of PD: Season 7: Don’t You Ever Do That Again, You Hear Me? (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

A/N: There are mentions of B1ack Liv3s M4tter (apparently this ended up in that tag, so I changed the wording, so hopefully it’s not there anymore) in regards to peaceful protests in this. And there are mentions of counter-protesters causing riots. I tried my best to portray this as professionally as possible with Y/N's views, Kevin's views, and Jay's views. I did not try to offend anyone at all and I'm very sorry if I did.

Also, I don't know if one part counts as threat of sexual coercion, but I'm fairly certain that's what it's called, so trigger warning for that.

Your age: 18

Jay's age: 32

Will's age: 34

"I get that it's important to you, but I'm not letting you go!" Jay argued as you stood across from him in a screaming match.

"Why? Because You don't believe the same things as me because you haven't met a bad cop? Because you fought for this country and know people who died for it?" you yelled back.

"Yes, me being a cop and a soldier obviously has something to do with this! But I'm also trying to keep you safe! They turn into riots!"

"You do know that's not the Black Lives Matter protesters who start them, right? They're peaceful. Counter-protesting assholes come and start things to give peaceful protesters a bad image!"

"I don't want you to get hurt if something happens! Tear gas hurts, kid. I don't want you to come home with burning eyes and the possibility of going blind and tell me I'm right. I'm trying to prevent that!"

"I know you are, Jay! I just want you to let me have my own damn opinions and do what I want for once!"

"Has a cop ever hurt you in some way? Pulled you over illegally?" Jay roared.

You wanted to tell him your story about something like that that had happened five weeks ago, two weeks after the infection scare across the entire city, but you couldn't because you knew he'd do something stupid and you didn't want that. "No, but--"

His phone rang, cutting you off. "I'll be there," Jay said quickly. Then, he turned back to you. "I gotta go, caught a case. I'll see you later and we can talk about this. Calmly."

"So, you're saying there's a chance you'll let me go?"

"There's maybe a .001% chance, but sure, believe what you want."

You rolled your eyes and he left. But, as he shut and locked the apartment door, he stopped. "Love you," he whispered. Because, with what he did on the job, he knew that there was the possibility every day of him not coming home to you.

***

When you woke up, you were shocked not to see a text from Jay between 3 and 5 am saying that he wouldn't make it home tonight. He usually made it a priority when on a case to tell you that he wouldn't be coming home so that you wouldn't worry.

But, there was a voicemail from him around 11 pm last night and it was currently 9 am.

You put your phone on speaker and played it.

"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry about arguing. If you really want to go, I think Kevin has his RDO tomorrow so I can see if he's going if you-- OW!" Then, the line just continued playing, and dragging noises were heard until there was a crash and the line went dead.

"Jay? Jay?" What the hell had happened? You quickly replayed the message to make sure it wasn't an issue with your phone, but when you heard the same exact thing again, you knew something had gone terribly wrong.

You went to dial Hailey's number to ask if she had seen Jay when there was a loud knock on your door. You quickly ran across the apartment and looked out the peephole. You saw Hailey and Adam and quickly flung open the door.

"Hey, Y/N," Adam said as he entered.

"Have you guys seen Jay?" you asked.

You saw Hailey visibly swallow. "Listen," she started, but you cut her off.

"What happened? What's going on? He usually texts me if he's going to be working until the morning and I didn't get a text and I got a voicemail and--" You took a deep, gasping breath.

"What voicemail?" Hailey asked as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

"I- It cut off partway through and he yelled and-- wait, he wasn't with you?"

"No," Hailey answered. "He said he had some personal stuff to take care of when we were at a scene and then took off. Then, he never came back, so we decided to check here to see if he just came home or something happened."

"He never came home." Your eyes widened, finally processing what it meant if he wasn't here and Intelligence couldn't find him. "You're telling me he's missing? Again? Oh, no. This can't be happening, not again. Not after our fight last night. I didn't even tell him what happened or that I loved him or--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath," Hailey told you and you tried to match her breathing. "His radio might just be dead or something like that." She knew that she was lying, but she was trying to stop you from freaking out. "Can you give me your phone so Adam and I can listen to the voicemail?"

You nodded and handed Adam your phone. He pressed play and you watched as his jaw clenched as he was listening to it.

"Shit," he muttered once he was done. "We need you to come to the district with us. Just for safety."

"Can you give me a minute?" you asked. "I- I'm in my pajamas and I haven't brushed my teeth and--"

"We'll leave in half an hour, okay?" Hailey asked and you nodded. "While you're getting ready, we'll send the voicemail over to Kim and Kev. Jay's gonna be okay."

"How do you know that?" you almost whispered.

"Because Jay's one of the strongest people I know," she answered. But, in reality, she wasn't sure about that. They had no idea where he was and according to the timestamp on that voicemail, it had been a little over ten hours since he sent it. For all they knew, Jay could be out of Chicago right now. Scratch that, he could be out of Illinois.

***

"When did you get this voicemail?" Hank asked as everyone in Intelligence, minus Jay but including you, were in the bullpen and trying to trace where the call came from.

"Around 11 last night, Boss," Adam answered for you.

"Okay. So it's been almost 11 hours," Voight said.

"I need a break, excuse me," you said and quickly excused yourself to the locker room.

You made your way to the locker room and sat down and leaned against the wall. This couldn't be happening again, not after that crazy borderline sociopathic drug dealer kidnapped Jay a few years ago and Erin went in and saved him. This could not be happening again.

You thought back to the fight last night and something your mom would always say when she was in a fight with one of the boys or when you had thrown a temper tantrum and then had to go to bed.

I'll always tell you I love you because when you walk out that door or go to bed, I'll never know if that was the last chance I had to tell you I love you.

God, if you hadn't argued with Jay, maybe you wouldn't be feeling this way. Obviously, you'd be feeling scared and upset because Jay was missing and no one had any idea where he was, but at least you wouldn't feel guilty like you currently did.

You felt guilty about starting that fight in the first place by bringing it up even though you knew what his answer was going to be. You felt guilty about yelling. But most of all, you felt guilty and you regretted not saying love you when he left...because that might've been the last time you'd have been able to tell that to your big brother who had always been there for you...even when he really didn't want to.

Jay's Nokia flip phone buzzed as he walked out of school. It was his mom.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted.

"Jay Halstead, if you answered your phone while you're driving..." she trailed off, trying to think of a good threat.

"Mom, I didn't. I was talking to some friends about going for tacos tonight, so I just walked out of school a minute ago."

"Oh," she said.

"What oh?" Jay asked. "That sounded like a bad oh, Mom."

"Well, I wish I would've known that before a professor called in sick to give an exam to his students and I agreed to pick up the extra hours."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't bring Y/N to the dentist. And I thought since you weren't busy, you could. I also may or not have promised her that she could go to Build-A-Bear after to get a new outfit for Beary because she's so scared."

"Mom," Jay groaned.

"I know, I'm sorry. But, how about this: you do this for me, and I'll extend your curfew by two hours on Friday and Saturday."

"Three," Jay countered.

"Two." Amelia Halstead stood strong.

"Three."

"Two and a half."

"Deal," Jay agreed.

"Thank you. I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"Love you, too."

***

"No," you whined as Jay told you that you had to leave after he walked you home from school later. "I don't wanna go to the dentist. They scary."

"No, they're not," Jay told you. The doctor was what was scary for him with all the needles for the shots. But, the dentist had never bothered him, even when he was a little kid it had never bothered him.

"No!"

"What if I let you bring Beary into the dentist, would you go then?" Jay practically pleaded.

"And you give me chocolate before we leave?"

"If you promise to grab your toothbrush and brush your teeth in the bathroom at the dentist, then yes, I'll give you some chocolate to eat on the way there." Jay was desperate at this point. He knew he shouldn't be giving you everything you wanted, but what were big brothers with a giant age gap for anyway if not to try and spoil his little sister?

"Okay!" You ran off to go grab Beary and your toothbrush and toothpaste while Jay made his way to a high cabinet in the kitchen and grabbed five squares of Dove milk chocolate, three for you and two for him.

In the car, Jay handed you the cholates and you started eating them while you held Beary close to you, trying to gain some comfort out of your favorite stuffed animal.

***

You gripped Jay's hand as you sat and waited for your name to be called. Beary was held in your other hand and you were squeezing him tight against your chest. You had just brushed your teeth like you promised Jay that you would, but you were still utterly terrified.

"Y/N Halstead?" a dental hygienist came out and asked.

You didn't say a word, just held Jay's hand tighter.

"That's you," Jay said gently and with a smile on his face, trying to make you feel less scared.

"No, not me," you told him as you frantically shook your head.

The dental hygienist squatted down in front of you. "Are you Y/N?" You didn't do anything, but Jay must've nodded to confirm that it was indeed you. "And who's this?" she asked as she shook Beary's paw.

"Beary," you said shyly.

"Well, I'm fairly certain that Beary will be with you the entire time. We even have little sunglasses you and he can wear when we shine the really bright light on you to protect both your little eyes. Does that sound good?"

You turned to Jay. "Me and Beary get sunglasses, Jay Jay!"

"I heard! Do you want me to come back with you?"

You thought for a second. "Please come."

Jay laughed. "Okay." He turned to the dental hygienist. "Is that okay?"

"Perfectly fine."

You stood up and held Jay's hand as you walked back into the dentist to get your six-month check-up on your baby teeth.

***

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Jay asked as the two of you walked out to his car after you finished.

"No!" you said as you shook your head. "I even got a pretty bracelet with Belle on it, see?" you exclaimed as you held your hand out to him to show off your yellow bracelet with a charm that had Belle from Beauty and the Beast on it.

Jay acted all surprised and said it was pretty even though he watched as you had picked it out while he had explained to the secretary how your mom would call to schedule your next appointment in six months.

Jay opened his car and made sure you were buckled in and then got in himself and started driving.

"Do you know where we're going?"

You gasped. You had forgotten you got to go to Build-A-Bear after!

"Build-A-Bear!" you yelled. The volume of that yell would've made Jay wince had he not been driving.

"Yup, that's where we're going."

"I think I'm gonna get Beary some new pajamas," you decided.

"What color?"

You held Beary out in front of you. "What color pjs do you want, Beary?" You brought him up to your ear and nodded as he "told" you what color pajamas he wants. "He said blue!"

"Blue pajamas. I'm pretty sure we can find those."

***

Jay and you walked into Build-A-Bear Workshop at the mall and you were met with children running around. To Jay, this was the definition of hell. Except for you, he was fine with you running around, but he really didn't like all the other kids that he had to be careful not to bump into.

"C'mon, Jay Jay!" you told him as you tugged him along to the pajama section.

He allowed himself to be tugged along by you and then you held up almost every single pair of blue pajamas to Beary to see which one was his favorite. He had decided on a pair of light blue pajamas with stars all over them. There was even a cute little hat with a pom-pom on top to go with the pajamas.

Jay paid and then you left with Beary and his brand-new pajamas. You had plans to have him sleep in those pajamas tonight, too.

Unbeknownst to you, Jay hadn't even really wanted to come. The only reason he brought you was that he got his curfew extended. But to you, it was just another fun afternoon with your big brother.

You were startled out of your daydream when you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Kevin.

"It's fine. I'm fine," you said quickly.

"No, you're not. And that's okay. Hailey and Voight went to see if Jay's where his phone pinged at."

"We fought," you told him.

"You fought?" Kevin asked as he slid down the wall to sit next to you.

"It was stupid. I should've just agreed with him and maybe I wouldn't be feeling like this."

"Like what?"

"Like utter shit." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "We were arguing about the BLM protests that were happening tonight. I wanted to go, but he wouldn't let me. The last thing I did was roll my eyes at him, Kev."

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments while Kevin figured out how to comfort you.

"Maybe talking about it will help. What'd you argue about?"

"Just that I wanted to go and he wouldn't let me because he thinks riots will break out. And you and I both know that's not the BLM protesters, that's the counter-protesters. But, he thinks I'll get hurt. I also think it's because he's a cop, so he feels like I'm protesting him, but I'm not. I'm protesting the system."

Kevin nodded. "I get it. Believe me, I do. I live it every day."

"How do you do it?" you asked. "Be an activist and a cop at the same time?"

"Just try and do the right thing with the information you have. And, explain that you're protesting the system and the bad apples, not the police force as a whole."

"I tried. But Jay doesn't think I have a right to protest because I've never had a bad experience with a cop." Which was a lie, but you weren't ready to talk about that just yet.

"Did he say that exactly?" Kevin asked.

"No, but, he asked me if a cop has ever illegally pulled me over."

Kevin nodded. "I know Jay and I know he would never say that you didn't have the right protest. He fought for that right. He mention anything else?"

"That tear gas hurts."

"I think he just wanted to keep you safe, same thing I'd do for Jordan and Vanessa."

"He sounded like he changed his mind on his voicemail, though. He thought that maybe if you were going, then he'd let me go...at least, that's what it sounded like."

Kevin nodded. "All I can say is that until we found Jay, I'm not going to one. Getting your brother is my first priority and it's the first priority of everyone in this unit."

"My first priority, too."

"Kev!" Adam yelled as he banged on the door. "You in there?"

"Yeah, bro! What's up?" Kevin asked.

"We need you to meet with someone!"

***

The hours passed and with each of them that did, you got more and more nervous for Jay's safety. You guessed that this is how he felt when you asked if you could go to the protest, knowing that he'd constantly be worrying about you until you came home safely.

"Y/N, we gotta go," Trudy said as she entered the bullpen around 9:30 pm that night.

"Why? What's going on?" you asked as you grabbed your phone and started following her.

"They found Jay."

"Is he okay?" you asked quickly.

"Y/N..."

"No! He can't be dead, Trudy! He can't!" you wailed.

"He's not. But, he has been shot."

You froze. Shot. Jay had been shot.

"He's en route to Chicago Med right now."

"Can you- can you bring me there?"

"That's where we're going right now."

***

"Will!" you yelled as you ran into the ED and saw your oldest brother.

You ran right up to him and hugged him, not caring that he almost dropped his iPad he had been using to chart.

"Whoa, Y/N." He set the iPad down. "Hey, I know. But Crockett's operating on him right now and he's one of the best surgeons in the hospital."

"I thought you were better than him. You need to do the surgery, Will. you need to save Jay!"

"Y/N, I know it sucks, but I'm family. As much as I want to operate on him, I can't legally do that."

You paused and looked up at him. His eyes were slightly red, but he hadn't been bawling the way that you had been.

"Dr. Halstead! Incoming!" Maggie yelled.

"What does she mean?" you asked, still hanging onto him. "You're still working?"

"There's been a ten-car pile-up on the highway. I have to. It's my job."

"But Jay's in surgery!" you yelled as you pulled away from him. "These people are more important to you than your own brother?"

"They aren't but--"

"But you're working anyway instead of waiting to find out what happens to him?"

"I can't do anything to help Jay right now. But I can help all these people who are pouring in."

"Dr. Halstead!" Maggie shouted again.

"I'll be up in a few hours, I promise," Will told you.

***

A few hours had passed and it was now past midnight. Jay was still in surgery. Will was sitting next to you, in a spare pair of clothes he had packed instead of his scrubs that were covered in blood, and you were leaning your head on his shoulder, close to being asleep.

That was until Crockett came out and Will jumped up, causing your head to hit the back of the chair.

"Ow," you mumbled.

"Sorry," Will apologized and then turned back to Crockett. "What's the verdict?"

"He lost a lot of blood," Crockett told the two of you.

"But he's gonna pull through, right?" Will asked what the two of you were both thinking.

"We'll be out of blood soon."

"What do you mean out of blood?" Will asked, taking a step toward the surgeon. "There's no way you can be out of blood!"

"With that pile-up, we can. I'd recommend you go and say your goodbyes and pray for a miracle."

Will put his hands on the back of his head and started pacing the room. Your breath caught in your throat. This could not be happening. Jay couldn't die, he just couldn't.

Crockett started to walk back towards the operating room.

"Wait!" you yelled. You didn't know what had taken over you, but at this moment, you'd do anything to save your brother. You rolled up your sleeve. "Take my blood."

"Y/N," was all Will could manage to get out.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but there's protocol for that. I'd love to let you do it, but--"

"Fuck protocol!" you yelled, all the anger and sadness and anxiety that had built up over the past fifteen hours exploding at this very moment. "Rush my labs. Or don't even get my labs done at all. I haven't had sex, so I don't have any STDs. I don't have any diseases or deficiencies since I moved in with Jay years ago. My blood type's O-neg, so I'm a universal donor. Take my goddamn blood, Crockett!" You didn't care that all that information was out in the open because you were barely processing what you were saying. The only thing you cared about was making sure that your brother was okay.

"Y/N," Will said as he walked up to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Don't touch me! And you sure as hell don't want to tell me to calm down!"

"Y/N," Will started again as he took his hand off your shoulder. "What Crockett's saying is that it's not ethical for him to do this. He could get fired."

"Where's the paperwork?" you asked as you turned back to Crockett. "I'll sign whatever I have to sign to make sure you aren't liable at all, that I'm donating this of my own free will. You can even take double the amount of blood that you normally do since I'm a universal donor. Just get me the paperwork."

Crockett and Will shared a look.

"I'll go get a nurse to get you the paperwork."

"Wait, no, no, no," Will said as he walked closer to Crockett. "You can't be serious about this!"

"She said she'll sign it."

"But, I have to co-sign it since she's a minor. So, no, you are not donating blood, Y/N. You almost passed out when I drew vials of your blood years ago. You know what's gonna happen if we take two units of blood? You are gonna feel like utter shit."

"Last I checked, I'm 18, so I can sign my own paperwork! God, I'm not a fucking child anymore, Will! I can make my own decisions!" you yelled back. "And if I don't do this, Jay will die. He'll die, Will. So, I'm giving him my blood with or without your support."

***

You sat in a chair, the ones that Will had told you about years ago with the big padded bar thing that came down in front of you in case you passed out. Typically, they'd just have you lay down in a bed, but since they were short on beds and Will told them that you had a history of getting dizzy and nauseous during simple blood draws, they had decided to put you here instead.

"Last chance to back out," Will told you as the nurse tied off your arm with a blue rubber tie and started to rub your arm to get the big vein in your left forearm to show.

"Jay's dying. No way in hell am I backing out."

Will sighed. He knew you were doing the right thing, but he also knew that you were going to feel terrible after, and he hated seeing you like that. "Okay," he said. "I'll stay here until they get the needle in you and then I'll get you some juice and cookies."

"Ready?" Monique asked.

"Ready," you confirmed. You turned to Will and squeezed your eyes shut as the needle pierced your vein. You heard the sound of the machine and knew your blood was going in there, but you didn't want to look. Getting your blood drawn, you could watch. But this, this was just too much blood to see, so you looked at Will.

"Doing okay?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Yeah," you answered because that was the absolute truth: you were feeling just fine.

"Okay, I'm gonna go get you some cookies and juice. I'll get an update on Jay while I'm out there, too."

You nodded and he left the room.

This wasn't so bad.

***

Okay, so you were lying to yourself. You were currently in hell. Giving the blood hadn't been an issue, it was how you felt after you were done giving blood.

You were currently sitting in that same chair, drinking some juice that Will had brought you. He told you that there was still no update on Jay, but that they were sending the blood back to him right now. (They had rushed labs on a small vial of blood that Monique took before you started the donation. The results came back while you were giving blood, and since your blood was clean, you could give it to Jay.) But, God, but you felt absolutely awful.

"You doing okay?" Will asked.

You shook your head and then stopped because it made you dizzy and put your head in your hands. "No," you groaned.

He handed you a glass of water. "Drink a bit of this too and then I'll open your pack of cookies."

"Why do you want me to drink water and not juice?" you asked as you closed your eyes and tried to stop the spinning in your head.

"Because, you're sweating, Short Stack. Need you to stay hydrated."

You took a few sips of water and then went back to your juice. Will handed you your pack of chocolate chip cookies and you started to eat them.

"Mhm," you groaned and laid your head down on the padded bar thing in front of you that kept you from falling out of the chair. "I don't feel so good."

You felt hot and cold at the same time and the world seemed to spin every time you lifted your head up. And, those cookies did not sit well with you.

"How do you feel? What hurts?" Will asked, jumping into doctor mode since Monique wasn't around. Will assured her that he could look after you while you recovered from your blood being donated at twice the normal amount.

"I just feel like shit," you told him, not picking up your head.

"You gotta give me some symptoms. Give me some symptoms and then I can help."

"Mhm, fine." You looked up at him and blinked slowly. "I feel hot and cold and sweaty. And I feel dizzy and nauseous."

"Okay. That's either a vasovagal reaction or from your blood pressure being low or from your heart rate being slowed down."

"What's that reaction thingy?"

"You don't like blood in general, so a nervous system response can happen, which could explain your reactions. But, your BP could also be low, which could explain all this too. And, it's one in the morning and you haven't slept yet, so tiredness could also be a factor."

"Great," you said sarcastically as you remembered the last time your blood pressure was low.

You had taken some of Jay's medication that he had to ward off his PTSD-induced nightmares after you were involved in a shooting at a house party. The one time you took them without sleeping directly after, you felt almost exactly like this...except without the sweatiness. You just mostly felt dizzy. You had called Will, he came over, and then you ended passing out and he had to get you to Med. Then you were admitted and they got your pressure back up. You were also prescribed sleeping pills which had helped immensely.

Will grabbed a blood pressure cuff from a drawer. "Arm," he told you. You held out your arm and he wrapped the cuff around it and pumped the end of it.

You waited as he looked at the gauge on the blood pressure cuff. Will said one number over another number, which meant nothing to you, but must've meant something to him. You raised your eyebrows, hoping he was going to tell you what those numbers meant in non-medical English terms.

"BP's low, which explains most of the symptoms," he told you.

You took another bite of your cookie and washed it down with some juice, but then immediately after started dry heaving.

Will rushed around and then thrust a pink basin under your mouth.

You took a deep breath after you finally stopped dry heaving about thirty seconds later.

"Better?" Will asked. You shook your head. "I'm going to get you an IV of anti-nausea medication."

You were going to argue with him about how he wasn't working, so he probably couldn't get you that. And, you were fairly certain he couldn't prescribe things to family. But, you felt terrible, so you really don't care if Will was being reckless and borderline unethical/illegal right now.

You nodded and then laid your head back down.

When Will came back, he thought you were asleep, but when you heard footsteps, you looked up.

"Alright," he began as he assembled the IV. "Last poke of the day, I promise."

"After this can I take a nap in the on-call room?" you asked as you held your arm out to him once again.

"You know I can't let you do that." Will tied a blue band around your arm and started rubbing it to get a vein in the inside of your elbow. Then, he noticed your pale and sweaty face. "Fine. Hopefully, Goodwin won't fire me after this. But I have a good reason. Turn so you don't see the needle."

You did and closed your eyes. You felt the poke and squeezed your eyes shut, but then it subsided and you felt that weird feeling of the medicine going straight into your veins. God, you hoped this worked.

You hoped Jay would survive because you didn't just go through all that for nothing.

***

You slowly opened your eyes as you felt someone shaking your shoulder. "No," you groaned as you turned to face the other side of the bed.

But then you remembered where you were: the doctors on-call room because Jay had been shot. Maybe it was Will waking you up to tell you--

"Short Stack, wake up. Jay's awake."

That got you wide awake.

You snapped your eyes open, rolled over, and jumped out of bed.

"I take it you're feeling better?" Will asked.

"Sleep helps. Let's go!"

Will quickly led you out of the room and through some hallways and up a few flights of stairs to Jay's recovery room.

He was currently talking to Hailey.

"Jay!" you exclaimed as you burst into the room to see him with a sling and see Hailey helping him with his jacket.

"Hey, Short Stack," he greeted and then turned his attention back to Hailey. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Uh, just that I'm glad you're back," she told him. "I'll give you some time with your siblings." She turned her attention to Will. "Oh, and the things you told me to tell Kim to get are in that corner." She pointed to the left front corner of the room. "Bye, guys." She waved and then left.

You gave Jay a huge hug and tried to avoid his arm that was in a sling. "Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" you told him seriously and then looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

Jay chuckled. "I'll try not to."

"You better do more than try." You went back to leaning your head against his chest as tears soaked his t-shirt.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," he soothed. "I'm okay. I'm fine, Y/N."

"I was so scared. The last thing we would've done was argue. I'm so sorry. I should never have asked to go to those protests. I know you were just trying to protect me--"

"Hey, it's okay for you to have your own opinions and views. It's just gonna take me a while to get used to you being an adult now and not that little sister who would always hold my hand and beg to go to Build-A-Bear."

"Speaking of Build-A-Bear," Will started and then walked over to the corner of the room and picked up two boxes. They were white boxes with dark blue designs on them. You knew those boxes: they were what the workers put new bears in when a kid came and bought one. You let go of Jay. Will peeked into one of the holes. "This one's for you." He handed Jay a box. "And this one's for you." He handed you the other box.

"You got us Build-A-Bears?" you asked as you raised an eyebrow.

"Just open the boxes."

You did and laughed when you saw Beary in the box, dressed in a hospital gown and white little bunny slippers. Your brothers were not kidding when they said they'd get one for you.

Jay laughed as he opened his. His Build-A-Bear was a light blue color and it also had on a hospital gown as well as a sling on one arm. The bear also had on a policeman cap. "Oh, man," Jay said as he continued laughing.

"Press the right paw," Will told him and he did, causing Ruzek's voice to float through the room.

Stop getting kidnapped. Glad you're okay, though.

You started laughing hysterically at this point.

"One more thing," Will said as he walked over to the counter and pulled out a marker and two hospital bracelets. On one he wrote Beary Halstead. "Jay, what are you naming your bear?" Will asked.

"I gotta name it?"

"Um, it's not an it. It's a he or a she...could be a they, too," you said.

"Fine. I gotta name him?"

"Yes," Will told him.

Jay groaned. "Fine. Blue."

"Boo! That's boring," you said.

He groaned again. "Detective Blue. There. Better?"

"Better," you confirmed.

Will wrote Det. Blue Halstead on the other hospital band. Then, he handed Beary's to you and Detective Blue's to Jay.

"I cannot believe you," Jay said.

"I can," Will laughed. "Now put it on him. Just like Y/N's doing with Beary."

Jay reluctantly put it on Detective Blue's arm. But then he realized something. "Wait, why does Beary have a hospital gown if Y/N wasn't in the hospital?"

"Yeah, about that..." you trailed off.

Jay cocked his head to the side. "What did you do this time?"

"Other than save your life, I got nauseous and Will had to give me anti-nausea medication," you explained.

"Wait, back up. You saved my life? How?" Jay asked as he looked between you and Will.

"She essentially cussed at Crockett until she got what she wanted," Will said nonchalantly.

"Which was...?" Jay pried.

"Giving you blood because the hospital was out because of a car accident. If she wouldn't have given you blood..." Will trailed off, not wanting to say the words.

"I'd be dead," Jay practically whispered.

"Yeah," Will confirmed, his voice at about the same volume as Jay's.

Jay felt himself getting choked up as he pulled you in for another hug. "Thank you."

"I know you'd do the same for me."

"In a heartbeat, Short Stack. In a heartbeat."

You stayed like that until Will went ahead and broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over the three of you.

"I hate to break this up, but there's something else I need to tell you guys," Will said.

You and Jay both turned to him and you let yourself out of Jay's embrace. "Which is?" you asked.

"Voight gave Jay two weeks furlough to recover and I talked Goodwin into giving me two weeks vacation--"

"How in the hell did you do that?" Jay asked.

"Let's just say I'm going to be working Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, and New Year's Day. But that's beside the point. We have two weeks of vacation time."

"You do know I work right?" you asked.

"At a coffee shop, not at a big kid job," Will said. "And, I had Kim and Adam stop in there on their way to get the bears. They explained the situation and your work gave you two weeks off. Adam said he may have had to flash his badge, but that's beside the point."

"And you took vacation because...?" you asked.

"We need to make sure Jay relaxes and there's so many protests-turned-riots happening right now that we should probably get out of here."

"You do know it's not the peaceful protesters starting those, right? It's counter-protesters and other people who are racist bigots and people who decided they have no other choice but to be violent," you said, making your views known once again.

"I'm very much aware, Y/N. But, no matter who started it, people were running from tear gas and burning buildings last night."

"Alright, back on topic," Jay started, not wanting to have another argument like he had two days ago with you. "Where are we going?"

"I figured Wisconsin would be a good choice."

***

"It's my turn to pick the music," you whined as Will looked for another song on your long drive to Wisconsin.

"I'm the oldest, so I get control of it," Will argued.

"No, you've controlled it for the last three hours. I've had to listen to nineties hip-hop for that long. My eardrums are gonna bleed. Please make him give the aux, Jay."

"Dude, just give her the aux, and then she'll be quiet. Remember, she likes early 2000s pop-punk and 2000s stuff in general. We'll probably know most of it."

Will reluctantly handed you the aux. "Thank you. And, just to remind you two, I'm a big fan of Taylor Swift's first few albums and 5 Seconds of Summer."

You clicked play on Take What You Want by One OK Rock featuring 5 Seconds of Summer. You queued up some more songs by 5 Seconds of Summer and two by Taylor Swift, just to mess with your brothers, and then you added songs they would know like All the Small Things by Blink-182, Check Yes, Juliet by We The Kings, Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low, and Ocean Avenue by Yellowcard.

By the time Dear Maria, Count Me In started playing, all three of you were jamming out, which caused Jay to forget to put his blinker on when he changed lanes...and there was a cop right there in the emergency turnaround.

Jay heard and saw the sirens behind him and slowed down. He knew the drill from pulling people over on his days on patrol. Now that he was in Intelligence, he practically just ripped the criminals out of their cars and handcuffed them against the side of their (usually stolen) car.

He got out his license and registration, along with his badge because he did have his service weapon with him. He'd be damned not bringing it with him in this day and age...and sometimes there were coyotes and he and Will didn't know if the old hunting rifle at the cabin that your grandpa used to use even had ammunition in and if there was even any ammunition at the cabin.

Jay rolled down his window as the officer walked up to him.

Your hands started to sweat and your heart started to race as you remembered your last encounter with an officer that you didn't know.

You were driving home from the library late at night after studying for a biology exam. And no, the library wasn't an excuse for going out and partying. You genuinely had gone to the library and had had a great and very focused study session for a few hours.

All of a sudden, you saw flashing lights and heard sirens. You turned down your music. You looked in your rear-view mirror and saw that the cop was right on your tail. He turned off his sirens and then turned them on and off quickly.

You were the one getting pulled over.

You pulled off to the side of the road and then rolled down your window.

"License and registration," the officer told you. He looked young, maybe a rookie.

"What's the problem officer?" you asked. Jay always told you that you had a right to know why you had been pulled over.

"You were going three miles over the speed limit, did you know that?"

"I don't recall how fast I was driving." Jay always told you never to admit to speeding because then you could fight the ticket if you ended up getting one.

"License and registration, please," he repeated.

"Reaching into my glove compartment and moving some CDs to get my registration," you narrated and then handed the registration to the officer. "Reaching over to my passenger seat to grab my purse which has my license in it...unzipping my purse...reaching in for my license." You handed him your license.

He ran your information and then came back to the window. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I have to give you a ticket."

You furrowed your eyebrows. For three miles over the speed limit? No fucking way was this happening.

"Uh," was all you could say.

"But, there is something you can do to get out of this ticket. You help me out, I help you out."

"I- I don't understand," you stuttered.

He looked down and you followed where he was looking and cupping himself with the hand that wasn't holding your license and registration.

"I- I..."

"Or I can just up this speeding ticket to going twenty miles over it. Say there was an open container in the car, too," he said.

You had no idea what to say. You couldn't risk getting your insurance upped and getting a minor in possession charge. You'd never be allowed to drive again!

But, there's no way you'd do this. You couldn't. But he was so much bigger than you that he could hold you down with one hand tied behind his back.

He placed his hand on the door handle. "You have three seconds to make your decision. One...Two..."

"My brother's Jay Halstead! Badge number 51163! His Sergeant's Hank Voight!" Your voice trembled as you yelled that and you were close to tears.

He looked back down at your license. It did say Y/N Halstead on it. He handed you back your license and registration. "Have a nice night."

Then, he walked back to his patrol car, got in, turned off the sirens, and drove off. You were so scared that you didn't even look to see what his last name or badge number was.

Once you had stayed pulled over for a good couple of minutes to make sure that the cop was nowhere in sight, you started driving again. You stopped at a drive-thru and got yourself a chocolate flurry with Oreos. Then, you sat in the parking lot with your hands still shaking and your heart still racing as you ate and started to cry. You cried for almost half an hour and waited there for another fifteen minutes so your eyes wouldn't be as puffy when you got home because you didn't want Jay asking questions.

"Y/N, you good?" Jay asked, taking you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah," you said quickly...almost too quickly. "Why?"

"Will just asked if you wanted to go back because we missed a song and you didn't answer."

"Yeah, I can do that." You quickly went back to the previous song and tried to sing with as much happiness as you did previously. But, you didn't get the image of that night or the feeling of dread out of your stomach for another hour.

***

You woke up the next morning very well-rested. The boys had taken the loft and the two twin beds that were up there and you got to take your mom and dad's old room because you were the only girl, so they said it was only fair that you got the bedroom.

You heard the dripping of water and got out of bed and then padded down the hall and to the kitchen. Jay was standing there in pajama pants and a t-shirt. (Thank God he wasn't shirtless for once in the morning. Your brothers really needed to learn how to put shirts on when they walked out of their rooms in the morning...and maybe by you telling them to put a shirt on all the time, you training them had finally paid off.) He drummed his fingers on the counter while he waited for the coffee to be done.

"Morning," you said.

He turned around. "Good morning. Shocked you're awake. It's only 8 am."

"And I'm shocked you haven't been up for two hours," you retorted.

"Oh, I've been up for an hour, just been reading upstairs. Will's not up yet, though."

"He always sleeps late when he doesn't have to work though, doesn't he?"

"Pretty much. We've made breakfast plans before and he's missed them because he was sleeping."

The timer went off on the coffee pot, alerting you that it was finished. Jay started to pour his in a tumbler. He held out a tumbler to you. You raised an eyebrow, silently wondering why he wasn't pouring it into a mug.

"I was gonna go for a morning canoe ride. You can come along if you want. Wouldn't want hot coffee spilling all over us," he told you.

"Did you bring creamer?" you asked.

"Irish cream creamer, just for you."

You reached into the fridge and grabbed the creamer.

"So, canoe ride?" Jay asked.

"Sure."

He poured coffee into a tumbler for you and then slid it to you to put your desired amount of creamer in.

***

Twenty minutes later, you were starting out in the canoe. You told Jay there was no way in hell that you'd be doing the rowing. He told you that he could only row with one arm because of his sling, so you'd have to do the other side. Skeptically, you started rowing. Jay told you that you'd be fine, just to follow his instructions.

Fifteen minutes later, when you were out in the middle of the lake, facing the forests of Wisconsin, he stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" you asked.

He picked up his tumbler of coffee off the floor of the canoe. "We need to talk."

"About what?" you asked as you picked up yours as well and held it with both hands.

"About your reaction last night when I got pulled over. You freaked. I need to know why."

"I- I didn't freak. I was just tired," you lied.

"You had quite the amount of energy right before that," he quipped.

"It's nothing."

"Y/N, I'm not letting this go. Is it because of the protests and riots and because of all the media coverage and those few bad apple cops and, I guess the system, that you're seeing that's making you nervous?"

"No, it's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"You're not going to let this go are you?" you asked.

"I will stay in this canoe in the middle of the lake until you tell me what is going on, Y/N Halstead."

"You wouldn't."

Jay shrugged with the arm that wasn't currently in a sling. "Try me."

You sighed. "Just don't be mad that I didn't tell you sooner, okay?"

"I won't. You have my word on that."

"So, a little over a month ago I was driving home from the library..."

***

When you finished, you were in tears. "Did you get a last name? Badge number?" Jay asked as he rubbed circles on your back with his good hand.

You sniffled. "N- No. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all."

"If I wouldn't have said- said your name...He had his hand on my door handle! And he was so much bigger than me. I'm sorry!"

You turned and buried your face in his chest. "Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I should've told you right away, though! But you just had that really rough case and I didn't want to put too much on your shoulders and--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath. You need to breathe. This was not your fault. None of it was."

You calmed your breathing and just sat there, silent tears streaming down your face.

"That's why I wanted to go to the protests," you said after a few minutes. "Because I've actually had a bad experience with a cop."

"Which should've never happened in the first place."

"I was so scared," you whispered.

Jay just hugged you tighter as he thought about how strong his little sister was. You had given blood to save his life even though you knew you'd feel terrible after and you hadn't told him about this horrible cop--which he would kick this cop's ass the minute the got back to Chicago--because you didn't want him to have too much on his plate after that terrible case where he put an innocent man in jail and got him killed...which was the main reason he had been shot.

"When we get back to the cabin, I'll try and call Voight. I don't know if I'll have service, though."

"Why?" you asked.

"I'm gonna have him look up who was on their beat near you that night so he can go interrogate people on my behalf. Probably best he does it and not me." Because Jay knew that the minute he saw that cop, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back.

You nodded.

"Hey, cheer up, kid. We're here for two weeks, away from everything. Away from the city and everything that goes on there. And I can promise you that that cop will get what's coming to him, whether that be losing his job or going to jail or prison."

"Do I have to tell Will? Or can you tell him? I really don't want to talk about this again."

"I can do it," Jay answered. "Speaking of Will, if he's not up when we get back, what do we say we wake him up with some cold lake water?"

"Like dump it on him?" you asked as you widened your eyes. Jay nodded. "No, that's mean. Then he'll have to wait for his sheets to dry out and they'll smell the entire time."

"We have spare sheets and blankets in the closet."

"Fine, let's do it. But just so you know, I'm telling him that it was your idea and I also have a lock on my bedroom door here, which will make it harder for him to sneak in and dump water on me."

"I will be sleeping in your room tonight," Jay joked.

"Nope. It was your idea, so you're gonna have to live with Will's payback."

Those two weeks were filled with laughter, pranks, board games, corn hole, swimming, fishing (well, you read either in the canoe or on the dock while the boys fished), and just spending time with each other. You were glad that Will had the bright idea to take two weeks up here...even though he got drenched in cold lake water the first morning by you and Jay.

A/N: I got a request from @ La_lectrice_33 on wattpad for Y/N going to the dentist, so I hope you liked that little scene! I also got a request from an anon on here about Jay and Will's reactions to her growing up, so I put that in here, too. Thank you for over 23k reads! I won't be posting until this Sunday (August 1) when I start posting AUs for AU-gust. Please remember to like/reblog and comment because I love seeing those like/reblog notifications pop up and love reading your comments and asks! As always, if you would like to be added to my tag list, just tell me and I’ll add you! Finally, like my imagines? Buy me a coffee (only $1 through Paypal and other currencies can be used) here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/Kayela

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

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cocobeanncteez · 3 years ago

Text

ATEEZ Hongjoong: Tame (Part 3)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)

Word Count: 17k in total, 5k in this part. (Part 1, Part 2, Final Part)

Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking, unprotected sex, pulling out, facesitting.

Three weeks later, you could pretty much call yourself a member of a mafia gang. Well, that's what you were now even if you were in slight denial.

You spent a lot of time with Ateez. Hongjoong taught you how to shoot like a pro, Jongho taught you how to defend yourself if you don't have a weapon, and Yeosang and Seonghwa taught you medical related stuff such as removing a bullet from a body and treating a gunshot wound. Yeosang also taught you the basics of hacking, but you sucked at it. San, Wooyoung, and Aeji taught you how to seduce a target, and you nearly died of embarrassment when you had to practice with Wooyoung as the target. Jiwoo pretty much gave you some of her bubbliness while she and Yeoreum taught you a bit about illegal international business deals. The three girls also told you a hell lot about their sex lives when you all had a girls' night a few days ago. On the other hand, Yunho and Mingi were just playing 'tossing Kiah' (as they call it), which was literally just them throwing and catching you like as if you were a ball. The giants found it extremely fascinating that you were an entire foot shorter than them. Sometimes, they would use the top of your head as an armrest.

Hongjoong bought you a phone, but unfortunately, you couldn't log into any of your social media accounts, or even your email as your cousin and uncle were searching for you and the culprits who made your cousin unconscious the night he was going to sell you.

"Kiah, do want some orange juice?" Mingi asked you from the kitchen while he poured himself a glass. You nod your head and he poured some for you too. Yeosang was there as well, busy eating fried chicken.

"Hey, Kiah?" Mingi called out, making you look up at him. "You never really told us about your parents." He handed you your juice.

"My mother died when I was a newborn," you replied, sipping on your juice. "My father... well, I rarely saw him after he made me live with my uncle. Now no one has seen him in months." Both the boys noticed how sad you were when you spoke about your father. You really wanted to see him; you didn't even know whether he was dead or alive.

"What's your father's name and age?" Yeosang questioned. "I could track him or at least find out if he's all right."

"Moon Dongwoo and he's 49 years old," you answered with a small smile. "Thank you, Yeosang."

After about three hours, Yeosang approached you while you were talking to Aeji and some of the boys. He sat on the couch adjacent to you after briefly greeting everyone.

"So I tried to track your father, Kiah," Yeosang stated nonchalantly. "And I found absolutely nothing."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"There are zero records of him," Yeosang explained, "Like no bank or property details… To put it in simple words, it's like as if he doesn't exist."

You frowned. "So he's… d-dead?"

"Don't know," Yeosang shrugged. "There are no death records either. There were a couple of men with the same name as him, but no one was 49 years old."

You pondered about it for a while. Why would your dad erase all traces of his existence? Even if he didn't, someone else did. But why?

"Wait," you blurted out. "Did you check with the police station? My dad is a cop."

San, who was listening to the conversation, nearly chokes on the sprite that he was drinking. "Your dad is a cop and you're here, living in a mafia gang's house?!"

"I know right?!" Yunho said from beside him and you only shrug in response.

"I checked the police station as well," Yeosang remarked. "Still no records."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "That's just strange. He's a cop, there has to be at least something about him at the police station."

"Hey, don't worry about it, Kiah," Yeosang said in a soft tone, giving you a reassuring smile. "We'll find him."

The next day after you woke up, you found everyone seated in the living room, lost in deep thought. You quietly sat beside Jiwoo, wondering whether you should ask why everyone is so quiet.

"That's not a bad idea, actually," Wooyoung said after glancing at you while you stared at him in confusion. What idea was he talking about?

"Yeah, it's a terrible idea," Hongjoong retorted, glancing at you as well.

"Kiah," Mingi starts, grabbing your attention. "What do you think about attending a masquerade party?"

"You mean a mafia masquerade party?" you emphasized.

"Of course," he replied.

"Ah, it's cool, I guess?" you said nonchalantly; you were getting used to the mafia life, and you'd be lying if you said that you didn't like it.

"It's settled then," San stated, getting up from the couch and stretching his arms. "Kiah is Hongjoong's date for the party."

"Knew it," Jongho murmured.

"No," Hongjoong protested. "A lot of people saw her face at the auction. It's a terrible idea."

"Well, it's a masquerade party hosted by our ally," Seonghwa remarked. "No one will try shit even if they recognize her."

"Plus, we're all going to be there. We can't leave Kiah alone here," Yeoreum added and Jiwoo nodded her head in agreement.

Hongjoong sighed. "Fine."

"You look gorgeous, Kiah!" Aeji squealed after doing your makeup. Yeoreum just finished doing Jiwoo's hair and started doing your hair.

"Hongjoong won't be able to keep his hands to himself," Yeoreum remarked with a smirk, making you blush.

"I'm surprised he hasn't made a move yet," Aeji said.

"We all know he wants to," Jiwoo mumbled while taking a mirror selfie.

You chuckled. "Nothing has happened yet."

"Yet?" Yeoreum teased you, curling a strand of your hair with the curling iron. "So you want something to happen, huh?"

“I—”

"You obviously do."

You playfully rolled your eyes at her. "Don't accidentally burn my hair, Yeoreum!" The girls laughed at the sight of you getting flustered

"Kiah, what are you planning on wearing?" Aeji asked.

"The black cocktail dress."

"No, you're not wearing that," she protests. "Wear the red dress Jiwoo got you last week."

You raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"You'll see," she smirked.

After all of you got ready and slipped into your respective outfits, you went downstairs where the boys were waiting.

As soon as Hongjoong saw you, his lips parted slightly as he scanned you from head to toe. You were wearing a short, strapless red dress that fit your body perfectly, hugging your curves and exposing your highlighted collarbones. You wore silver wedges that matched the silver necklace around your neck. Your long hair was curled and your makeup was simple yet elegant.

"Hongjoong's favorite color is red, by the way. Thank me later," Aeji whispered to you, giving you a wink before she ran into Seonghwa's arms. So that's why she forced you to wear a red dress. You snorted at Aeji's words before your eyes landed on Hongjoong. He looked absolutely ethereal in his black ripped jeans and white t-shirt underneath the leather jacket he was wearing. You expected to see the guys in suits, considering it was a masquerade event, but it looked like you all were going to a club instead. Oh well, maybe this is how the mafia rolls.

You heard someone clear their throat. "Um, if you're both done eye-fucking each other, can we leave? We're getting late," San commented and Jiwoo laughed loudly at her boyfriend's words. The other eight already left and you wondered how you didn't even notice.

Hongjoong doesn't utter a word; he only approaches you and takes your hand in his, leading you to the garage. You, Hongjoong, Jiwoo, and San were riding in the same car.

San begun driving and the car was filled with Jiwoo gushing about how she loved going for Stray Kids' parties. San told you about how Wooyoung introduced Ateez to his friend, Changbin, and that's how Ateez met the rest of Stray Kids.

After a while, you reached Stray Kids' mansion. The exterior was lit up with blue and yellow lights.

Jiwoo handed you a pretty silver eye-mask and you put it on; Hongjoong wore a red mask, Jiwoo wore black, and San wore gold.

"Alright, let's party!" Jiwoo squealed, pulling San along with her, practically running inside.

Hongjoong wrapped an arm around your waist as he led you inside Stray Kids' mansion, scanning the crowd to see if he could find any of his allies.

"Ah, Hongjoong!" you heard someone say, catching your attention. Hongjoong's arm leaves your waist to hug that person.

"Chan! It's been so long, yeah?"

"Very," he agreed before glancing at you. "I see you've got yourself a girl."

Hongjoong chuckled. "This is Moon Kiah. Kiah, this is Bang Chan, the leader of Stray Kids." Chan stretched his hand out and you shake it.

While Hongjoong spoke to Chan, Jiwoo dragged you away to get a drink. You wondered how hyper she would be when drunk, considering the fact that she was already pretty hyper when sober.

Jiwoo got a couple of tequila shots and you only downed three. "Only three?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," you answered with a small giggle. "I have very bad alcohol tolerance."

Jiwoo took her own shots before Wooyoung dragged the two of you to introduce you to the other members of Stray Kids. You were seriously shocked by how young and polite these men were, despite being in the mafia.

"So whose girl is she gonna be now?" Changbin asked.

"She's Hongjoong's girl," Wooyoung answered, and you giggle at that, already a little drunk.

"Mhmm, yeah, I'm Hongjoong's girl, hi!" you squealed before realizing that Jiwoo suddenly wasn't there anymore. "Where's Jiwoo?" you pouted

"Probably would've found someone to talk to or she's in some room with San," Wooyoung replied. "Anyway, let's get you to Hongjoong, little one."

"I'm here," you heard a familiar voice say behind you, making you jump a little before you turned around. "Kim Hongjoong, you…” you trailed off, admiring his face even though half of it was covered with the mask. "You're so fucking hot, like what the actual fuck?!" Wooyoung and Changbin laughed loudly before they walked away, leaving you alone with a slightly stunned Hongjoong.

"How much did you drink, hmm?" Hongjoong asked, looking down at you with soft eyes. You gave him a loving smile while your arms moved to wrap around his neck.

"Three tequila," you mumbled before you suddenly squealed. The DJ started playing one of your favorite songs. "Dance with me," you whispered in Hongjoong's ear, pulling his body closer to yours.

Hongjoong danced with you for a little while, holding you close to his body so that you wouldn't trip and fall in your 5-inch heels. After the song ended, he pulled you to a less crowded area to sit on the sofas. Your heartbeat sped up when Hongjoong made you sit on his lap instead of the free space beside him. You wrapped an arm around his neck while your other hand ran through his soft hair.

"What's wrong with that guy?" you whispered in Hongjoong's ear, glancing at a green-masked guy who was sitting near you, all alone on the floor, staring at the ceiling with a huge smile.

"Probably took LSD," Hongjoong remarked after taking a quick glance at the man.

"Oh," you murmured. "He's a really bad boy. You shouldn't take drugs. Okay, pretty boy?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, amused by the tipsy side of you. He chuckled prettily in your ear, pulling you even closer to him.

"I don't do drugs, love." He places his cold hand on the skin right above your knee. "I'm a good boy," he whispered in a low tone. Hongjoong could clearly see how much he affected you.

"Liar," you whispered in his ear. You place a kiss right below his ear before trailing kisses along his jawline. You stopped at his chin and pulled away. When his eyes met yours, you leaned in, finally pressing your lips against his. He responded immediately, kissing you back like as if there was no tomorrow. You've never been kissed with such intensity before. Hongjoong's hand that was just above your knee, began to move upwards. You weren't drunk, just tipsy, so you knew what was happening; you were starting to feel really excited as his hand went higher and higher.

You heard someone clear their throat. "Kim Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong halted his actions and pulled away from you to look up at the woman who interrupted him. She had orange colored hair and was wearing a dark blue eye mask.

"Oh? Royeon?" he got up from his seat, making you stand up along with him. He sounded a little excited, and that made you feel a little jealous. Who was she?

Royeon smirked. "New girl, huh?"

Hongjoong ignored her comment. "Kiah, this is my friend, Royeon."

She snorted. "Friend? I'm quite offended by that title, Joongie." she pouts a little before turning to you. "I'm his first love."

You kept a pokerface on. "That's nice. It’s a pleasure to meet you," you said nonchalantly, trying not to sound bothered about the fact that Hongjoong's first love was standing right in front of your face. She was giving you a bad vibe and you absolutely hated how she was undressing Hongjoong with her eyes. You couldn't deny that you had strong feelings for Kim Hongjoong and you were planning on telling him pretty soon.

You turned to Hongjoong with a small smile on your face. "I'm gonna go get a drink," you said, purposely giving him a kiss that lasted a little longer than it should before you left him alone with his previous lover.

You didn't get a drink. Instead, you went outside, exploring the lit up garden in Stray Kids' mansion. The mansion was a little smaller than Ateez's mansion, but was extremely beautiful nonetheless.

You walked to one of the trees that was lit up with blue lights, taking out your phone to take a few pictures of yourself.

"So Yang Daeyoung hasn't been spotted anywhere?" you heard someone say.

"No," another person replied. "He probably escaped to another country or died.”

"What about his child?" the first person asked.

"No one knows what he or she looks like. Anyway, we have to find Yang Daeyoung and his child before another gang does. I heard many gangs are still searching for him… especially Ateez and CIX. We need to get all that information before them."

You were suddenly really interested in whatever the two people were talking about. You mentally reminded yourself to ask one of the Ateez members about this Yang Daeyoung guy later.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone here?" you heard someone say behind you, words slurred.

You turned to face the man who was in a green eye-mask. "Taking pictures as you can clearly see," you answered the clearly drunk man.

He smirked. "I'm Jinseop," he introduced. "And your attitude is really fucking turning me on, babygirl."

"I didn't ask," you stated, rolling your eyes.

He took a step towards you and you didn't move an inch. "You know," he starts, placing a hand on your shoulder while he towered over you. "I heard Stray Kids have a few spare rooms here. How about we go upstairs and—"

"Get your fucking hands off her."

Jinseop rolled his eyes, not even glancing at the person.

"Now," the person growled. He froze when he finally realized who was talking to him.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized and quickly walked away, leaving you quite stunned.

"Wow, Kim Hongjoong," you remark in amusement after a few seconds. "You scared someone."

Hongjoong doesn't say anything. He only walked towards you, and you involuntarily took a step back, making your back press against the cold surface of a wall. Hongjoong towered over your short height and you could tell he loved how small you looked next to him.

He cupped your cheek with one hand and places his lips against yours, gently kissing you before trailing kisses down to your neck. Your hands immediately went up to grab his hair while he started to suck and kiss the skin of your neck, making you moan softly. He smirked against your skin, absolutely loving how he was the one who was making you feel good. He brought his lips back to yours, kissing you a little harder than before while his hands moved down to your ass, grabbing it through the fabric of your dress. You gasped at his actions and he takes that opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. He pulled away after a few seconds.

"You're all mine, Moon Kiah."

Hongjoong led you back inside and you immediately spot his ex-girlfriend who was trying to hit on an unbothered Yunho.

"Yunho," Hongjoong called out and the man looked at him. Royeon's attention was also now on the two of you. "Where are the rest? We have to leave soon."

"I have no clue," Yunho answered. "Yeoreum just took Mingi to the bathroom. The man drank way too much."

You noticed Royeon glaring at you, her eyes flickering between your neck and Hongjoong's messed up hair; you realized that he probably left a nice mark on your neck. You smirked, loving her annoyed reaction. You wrapped your arms around Hongjoong's waist and he smiled at you, draping an arm around your shoulders. Yunho controlled the urge to laugh once he realized what you just did.

Royeon cleared her throat. "So Hongjoong, did you get any news on Yang Daeyoung?" You felt Hongjoong stiffen a little.

"No," Hongjoong simply replied.

She chuckled. "Oh well. That must really suck for you since all... that happened, huh?" You could tell Hongjoong was going to lose his temper. You were extremely curious about this person, considering the fact that you've heard about him twice in less than an hour. "I bet you're dying to capture him. You would've planned so much to—"

"That's none of your business, Royeon," Yunho stated in a cold tone, cutting her off.

She raised her hands up defensively. "What I'm trying to say is I'd like to help."

"We don't need your help," Hongjoong spat through gritted teeth and Royeon was taken aback. You wondered why she looked shocked; was Hongjoong a complete sweetheart to her or something when they were together?

She cleared her throat, clearly offended. "Alright… come over to my place whenever you want me, Hongjoong," she said with a smirk before she walked away. You scoffed at her words and tightened your hold around Hongjoong who was quite amused by your reaction.

He put a finger under your chin to make you look up at him. "Maybe I should take up her offer, hmm?"

You scowled. "Don't even think about it, Kim Hongjoong. You're mine."

"Say that again, baby."

"You're mine."

Hongjoong crashed his lips onto yours and you kiss him back immediately, loving the feeling of his soft lips moving with yours.

"Oh, they're finally doing something," you heard Jongho say.

"Yeah, I was so tired of hearing Hongjoong whine everyday about how badly he wanted to kiss her," Seonghwa remarked, and you smile against Hongjoong's lips. You pulled away from the kiss, smiling widely at a blushing Hongjoong.

You turned your head to look at Seonghwa. "He was whining about that?" you asked in amusement.

"Oh, yeah, all the time," he answered with a chuckle.

A drunk Wooyoung laughed loudly. "That's not all! Hyung was also complaining about how Hongjoong junior was aching for—" Hongjoong smacked his palm over Wooyoung's mouth, stopping him from exposing him.

"Hey, let him complete," you stated, amused by the whole situation. Hongjoong shook his head in disagreement.

"We have to leave," Hongjoong changed the topic. "Yunho, go get Mingi and Yeoreum. Seonghwa, call San and Yeosang."

"Yeosang's getting some upstairs after so long," Yunho revealed. "He'll be shit pissed if you guys interrupt him."

Wooyoung chuckled. "After so long? He got pussy last week! And he's with the same blonde chick upstairs."

"No wonder he was the most excited to come here," Jongho mumbled.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "Well, I want to leave now. Anyone else wants to come?"

"Hyung, you and Aeji can go," Yunho said to Seonghwa. "Aeji's really tired. I'll come with the rest."

Seonghwa nodded and the four of you leave first, walking to one of three cars. Seonghwa had to drive after losing a game of rock-paper-scissors to Hongjoong.

After he began driving, you wanted to ask who this Yang Daeyoung guy was, but you thought now didn't seem like an appropriate time; you didn't want to interrupt the peaceful silence in the car.

You were feeling quite drained out, so you rested your head on Hongjoong's shoulder, trying your best to not fall asleep.

“Sleep, Kiah,” he mumbled, bringing your body closer to his. “I’ll wake you up when we reach,” he said, although he had no plans of doing that.

“Okay…” you closed your eyes, sleep taking over your body within a few minutes.

Hongjoong placed a soft kiss on your head. “I love you…”

5 months later.

As soon as Hongjoong came back home from his mission and stepped into your bedroom, you ran into his arms. “I missed you so much!” you mumbled against your boyfriend’s chest while he embraced you.

You started dating Hongjoong around three months ago when he finally got the courage to confess that he fell in love with you. To his relief, you were just as head over heels in love with him. The boys sometimes refer to you as ‘the one who tamed his temper’ as Hongjoong didn’t get annoyed very often anymore. You had also grown used to the mafia life, and you often found yourself enjoying it more than you should. You knew almost everything about the boys and the world you were now a part of. They even let you go on missions, sometimes letting you go solo. Hongjoong was always a little hesitant as he was scared something would happen to you, but he was getting used to it.

“I was only gone for a week, love,” Hongjoong chuckled and you sighed.

“It felt like years.” You pulled away from his chest to look at him. You pecked his lips before moving to sit on your bed, your boyfriend mirroring your actions.

“I got you a lot of chocolates,” he said, reaching out to grab your hand, intertwining it with his own. “I’ve kept them in the fridge.”

You smiled, lying down while you played with Hongjoong’s hand. “It’ll get over in two days,” you stated, knowing the boys would finish it before you could even grab a piece.

“Then I’ll go back and get you more.”

“I’d rather you stay here with me,” you mumbled, arms reaching out to hug your boyfriend. Hongjoong settled in your embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your hand moved to his hair, playing with his strands. Hongjoong couldn’t help but place a kiss on your sensitive neck, causing a chill to run down your spine. He began placing more kisses on your neck, smirking when he felt you grab a fistful of his hair. He trailed kisses from your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips.

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to hover above you. Cupping your cheek, Hongjoong gazed at you with nothing but love and adoration, making your heart race.

You grinned at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you too.” You pulled him into a kiss which he eagerly responded to. Lips moving with yours, Hongjoong took your bottom lip between his teeth, gently sucking on it before licking your lip as a way of asking for permission. You parted your lips wider, letting him slide his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues danced in a slow rhythm while Hongjoong rolled his hips against yours, making you moan. You gently pushed him away, making him look at you with a worried gaze, thinking he went too far. But you pushed him further, making him lie down on his back before you straddled his hips. Your hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. Hongjoong’s eyes moved to your bra clad chest. You reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.

“Can I touch you?” he asked. You took his hands, placing them on your chest in response. Hongjoong gently squeezed your boobs, thumbs running over your hardened nipples. He sat up a little so that his face could reach your chest. He placed kisses on your sternum before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking on it, licking the small bud. He mirrored his actions for your other nipple, and your back arched in pleasure. When he pulled away, you immediately crashed your lips onto his in a hungry kiss. You involuntarily grinded down on his hard-on, a groan leaving his throat. Hongjoong’s hands moved to your hips, helping you move faster on his bulge.

“I want you, Joong,” you moaned out, making him get harder.

“Are you sure, baby?” he asked.

“Yeah. I want you to fuck me. Please,” you begged. You weren’t a virgin, but this was going to be your first time with Hongjoong.

He only smiled, halting your movements on his bulge. “Let me prep you, baby. Sit on my face.” You got off his lap to take your jeans off along with your panties. Hongjoong also stripped out his clothes, leaving himself bare in front of you for the first time. You involuntarily bit your lip, taking in the sight of his thick, hard cock. He looked absolutely irresistible.

Hongjoong climbed back onto the bed, lying down while he waited for you to straddle his face.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, a little hesitant to put your weight on his face.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he chuckled. “Sit comfortably.”

You lowered yourself onto his face, making sure you didn’t put all of your weight on him. Hongjoong's hands gripped your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth. He wasted no time in lapping at your slit, collecting your wetness on his tongue. He moaned at your sweet taste, tongue dipping into your hole, his nose pressing onto your clit. He moved his mouth to latch onto your clit, giving your nub a few sucks before moving back to your hole. “Fuck!” you moaned, hands reaching down to grasp his hair while he fucked you with his tongue. You felt the familiar knot forming and you warned Hongjoong that you were close. He licked up and down your slit, lapping at your clit, pushing you to your high. You moaned out his name while you came on his face and he wasted no time in licking up your juices, a drop rolling down from his lips. When you moved your pussy away from his face, you got wetter at the sight of his lips glistening with your juices.

You moved down his body to return the favor, but he stopped you. “I’ll let you do that another time, babe. But now I really need to be inside of you.” Hongjoong sat up, piling pillows behind him before leaning back on it. “Are you on the pill?” he asked while pumping his cock.

“No…”

He groaned. “I don’t have condoms on me right now. They’re in my room.”

“It’s okay, you can just pull out,” you stated.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“Mhmm.” You moved to straddle his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance. You sank down on his length, the stretch making you whimper. Once Hongjoong was fully inside of you, you placed your hands on his abs, slowly moving yourself up and down on his cock, coating it with your arousal. Hongjoong bucked his hips up to meet yours half-way. You leaned down to kiss him while you rolled your hips against his. You pulled away and smiled at him before you increased the pace. Your hands reached back to grab his thighs while you rode him. Hongjoong watched your boobs bounce along with you, the sight making him groan. When Hongjoong felt himself getting close, he switched positions, slipping out of you, making you whine. He only giggled, leaning down to peck your lips before he gripped your waist. Without any warning, he slammed his cock into you, making you gasp, your walls clenching violently around him while he fucked you hard and raw.

You gripped the bedsheets beneath you, feeling the knot forming in your lower area. “J-Joong… I—”

“I know, baby, I’m close too,” he groaned out, his thrusts getting sloppy. “You’re taking me so well, fuck.”

Hongjoong moved one hand down to your clit, his fingers rubbing your nub in circular motions. You screamed his name when your second orgasm washed over you. Hongjoong pulled out immediately, spilling onto your stomach. You reached out to pump his cock, milking him dry. Hongjoong collapsed beside you, body coated in a thin layer of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. He pulled you into a sweet kiss a few seconds later.

“That was amazing,” he murmured against your lips. You smiled, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “Let’s clean up, hmm? Shower with me?” You nodded, letting him carry you to the bathroom.

262 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

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