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vvienne · 3 years ago

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XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.

#xicheng #fic recs #mdzs #mdzs recs #jiang cheng #lan xichen #obvs these reflect my personal preferences etc etc

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kim-miyeon · 4 years ago

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Hell Above-Chapter One

PAIRINGS: Hwang Hyunjin X Female Reader

WARNINGS: Mafia!AU, strong language, violent scenes, use of weapons, mentions of blood, mentions of sex trafficking, murder, suggestive language, sexual scenes, unprotected sex. 18+ Please.

WORD COUNT: 6.8K

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This is a Wasteland, My Only Retreat.

The faint roar of the vehicle engine rumbled lowly as you sat in the driver seat of your car, both of your hands resting softly on the steering wheel. Your annoyed sigh released itself as your head turned to look at the sleek folder that laid in the seat next to you. You smirked to yourself as you averted your eyes back to the rusted standing building in front of you. The allure of the night caused the whole scenery to match the mood of this dreadful evening. Your eyes scanned over the area surrounding, four black cars parked to the left side of the building, the whole estate heavily guarded with about fifteen men, the soldiers. You stared for a bit before looking up to your rearview mirror and allowing your eyes to observe you. It was almost cliché the way you looked for the part you played. The way your features could kill a man alone and you knew that better than anybody. Reaching your hand into your purse that sat on your lap, you pulled out an item that was set to complete such a look of power, your blood red lipstick. You moved closer to the rearview to get a better view as you applied a layer of the tint on your lips, bringing your character to life. You rubbed your lips together and cleaned around the edges before your eyes naturally diverted to a dark figure walking towards your car. You groaned in annoyance as you unbuckled yourself and grabbed the folder to the right of you. Turning your keys in the ignition off, you opened the car door, throwing your legs over onto the pebble ground, where the heels of your black boots met. Your whole appearance could have blended into how dark the night became as you wore black jeans and a black sweater, paired with your favorite black trench coat. The only color that could be determined was the deep red on your lips and the silver gun that hung by your side.

“YAH Y/N!” the voice of the figured called out and you heard the thick accent of an Australian native come through

You slammed the car door shut behind you as you inhaled the cool freshnes of the autumn night. Shifting your direction to the young man walking closer to you. He had a slim figure, soft blonde strands that fit his small face and hints of freckles that coated him. On a usual day, he would be smiling and spreading his contagious positivity. But on nights like this, he was different. We were different.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked sternly, voice low and accent deep. You walked towards him with the folder in your hand.

“Is that anyway to greet your elder, Felix?” You smiled back playfully, shoving the folder into his chest. He grabbed a hold of it flipping through the contents before looking back at you.

“How did you find out?” he sighed in defeat.

“Well, I heard you caught a mouse,” You said as you started to walk towards the building, with Felix following, “the cat wanted to play.”

“You shouldn’t be here, Y/N, you know you can be comprom-”

“Cut the bullshit Felix,” You waved your hand, pushing away the topic. “Just tell me what you know.”

Felix groaned and you looked over to him, stopping both of your tracks, “He was one of the associates. Caught taking pictures and asked too many questions.”

“Is that why the soldiers are here?” You asked, arms crossing over your body.

“Mhm. We don’t know which associate can be trusted, and didn't want to create more trouble.”

You squinted in confusion at his statement and Felix bit his lip as if he was debating to reveal anymore.

“We think he might be working with ‘Y’.”

Y. The alias name of a mystery person who has had multiple failed attempts in trying to reel you out. Or reel out whoever they can in all honesty. Pathetic and yet intriguing, as you and your family have been on the hunt for this mystery person for the past 6 months. Your interest spiked up to the new found information.

You laughed sinisterly as you turned back to walk towards the entrance of the building. “God, I love a good Friday night.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. You really shouldn’t be here. We don’t know the multitude that ‘Y’ is working on,” Felix pleaded.

“So we find out.” You stated.

“We are. YOU just can’t be here because Min-“ you stopped in front of the door to the warehouse and you turned around to Felix who cut himself off from finishing his sentence.

“Because what, Felix.” You gritted.

Felix sighed and looked at you.

“Minho doesn’t want you here”

You clicked your tongue and scoffed in disbelief at the sentence. You felt the blood bubble in your veins as the adrenaline from anger rushed through you.

“Last time I checked, Minho wasn’t my fucking boss.”

You marched up to the warehouse doors and pushed it open. Felix following you as you both walked into the dark and musty place, smells of decaying animals and blood surrounded you immediately, which could have bothered any normal individual, but the smell was too natural for you.

Straight ahead was a dim light shining on a profound scene. Your sight was captured by a man tied to a chair, hands cuffed behind him, blood hanging from the ends of his hair dripping down his cheeks and arms. Barely hanging on to whatever life he may have left, he raises his head to a man who you assumed performed such a violent assault. The man’s brown hair was sweat ridden and he wore his white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up. On his hand sparkled a set of brass knuckles that he wiped off with his handkerchief. Walking closer, you witness the man as he swung his forearm back and connected another blow to the captured man's face, earning splatter of blood to the floor and a grunt from the victim. You scoffed softly as you approached such a disappointing scene.

If it weren’t for the loud clicks of your heels to suggest your arrival, it could have been the dark demeanor you had when you came into the lit area and the man looked at you, first in surprise and then annoyance. It was hard to admit, but he was attractive, his muscles bore through his shirt and pants. His face was one that could ruin a woman. His dark sweaty hair stuck to his forehead from the work he put in for the night. He scoffed when he saw you and you crossed your arms over your chest and smiled at him.

His eyes switched his gaze to Felix who approached behind you.

“You had... one job.” Stepping forward and raising his finger to emphasize Felix’s one job of the night, implying that it was to make sure you weren’t there.

Felix bowed his head in an apologetic manner and you laughed as you looked down at the floor and the back to the man.

“You’ve been relieved of your duties for the night Minho, you can go.”

He laughed at you and came closer, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” You stepped closer to him.

Minho paused and looked at you as you held his gaze sternly. He finally let up, cursing in the air, understanding the consequences of disobeying you.

Minho turned to grab his coat and walked away calling out for Felix to come with him.

You breathed out in content and removed your coat. The man sitting in the chair raised his head slowly as he had heard your heels come closer to him. You grabbed his bloody chin and forced his head up to look at you as you examined to damage Minho had done.

“Tsk tsk tsk, he really did a number in your face.” You let go of his chin and he hung his head low again.

“Who are you?”

“Who am I?” You smiled at the question asked, “I can be whoever you want me to be.”

The man raised his head slightly as he saw you walk over and grab an empty chair, pulling it to sit across from him. You sat down and crossed your leg over the other one and pulled out a box of cigarettes from your back pocket, along with a lighter. You pulled a cigarette out with your mouth and lit it as you inhaled deeply. The smoke burning the back of your throat, almost sobering you for a second.

“Who am I?” you reiterated, “ Well truthfully, I don’t think that’s as important. I actually came here cause I wanted to get to know you more”

“I already told the man before that I don’t know anything.”

You sucked in air as you pulled the cigarette out from your lips “See I could believe that, however, I know that’s not true, right... Danny?”

You paused as you saw no reaction, “ … or is it better to call you...SungHo.”

He looks at you in immediate terror and you smile, inhaling another drag.

“How do you-“

“Kim SungHo, father to two beautiful young girls, Mina, 3, and Hyerin, 5. A loving husband to Kim Ji Hye for 10 years. Congratulations, your anniversary was last month right?” You asked innocently as you watch the man in front of you begin to widen his eyes to your knowledge.

You pulled another drag from the cancer stick, “A former professional photographer. You had your own business that went bankrupt, right? So you opted into your dangerous pleasures to feed your girls, huh?”

“I was just doing what I can,” He mumbled.

“Life in prison without parole. I heard they were even considering the death penalty for the men they found, men like you, right SungHo?” You scooted closer to him as you watched a tear roll down his face.

“Did you like taking photos of those girls? Did you like watching them beg for their lives?”

He cried and choked on his own tears as you stood up and flicked the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it to put it out.

“Tell me who you work for SungHo.”

“I can’t” he choked out.

“Oh SungHo, you don’t want to make me mad. I’m worse than that man before. Way worse.”

Sungho just cried and you grew intolerable to the minutes that past as you waited for information. You knew that beating him the way Minho did was foolish. So you did the one thing none of those bastards could ever. You grabbed your gun and cocked it back aiming for his head as he cried softly. You notice the lack of adrenaline, the almost inviting acceptance he was having to a moment of death you could implicate. So you moved your aim towards his groin.

“STOP! STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” he screamed.

“Tell me who you work for Sungho, my patience is at an all time low.”

“I DON'T KNOW HIS NAME, HE WENT BY Y!”

“What did he want?”

“HE WANTED TO KNOW IF THE LEE FAMILY WAS STILL OPERATING, HE ASKED ME TO TAKE PICTURES AND FIND OUT WHO THE BOSS IS. TOLD ME TO BECOME AN ASSOCIATE TO DO IT!”

“When’s the next time you’ll see him?” He paused and you lowered your gun and fired a gunshot right into his crotch. He screamed in pain and you aimed your gun back at his head.

“ANSWER ME!”

“HE DIDN’T SEE ME, HE CALLED ME. TOLD ME TO GO TO THE TRAIN STATION AND DROP OFF MY CAEMRA BY THE HOUSE WITH THE MAILBOX!” he cried out as he looked down and saw the blood dripping from his crotch. “PLEASE, HE SAID HE’D KILL MY FAMILY IF I DON’T DO THIS! PLEASE!”

You stepped back and relaxed yourself as you had found all the information you needed. You stood back looking at him as your mind thought back to the kids he had. You can’t protect them y/n. You watched as Sungho cried out in the pain as he bled. Your curiosity got the better of you in the moment as you twirled your gun.

“Did you find out who the boss was?”

Sungho breathed out heavily,“I took pictures of the man before you.”

You smiled in disbelief, “and you believe him to be the boss of the Lee Family?”

“The associates say that he is the only one they have seen and fits the description of the son of Lee Won-Shik.” He looked up at you and your face went pale.

That name. One that you knew too well. Your father’s name.

You aimed the gun back at his crotch and fired another bullet in anger. SungHo screamed and gritted as blood began to pool from his groin area, surely ending whatever reproduction system he had left.

“I TOLD YOU EVERYTHING.”

“I know, it’s a shame.”

The pain you inflicted caused you to wonder how painful it could have been. You just watched him bleed out and scream as he begged you for help. You turned and saw the camera lying on the table and you walked over to pick it up. You scrolled through pictures of Minho leaving offices and greeting people, people who worked for your family for years. Any leakage of this information could be detrimental. The whole thing put a sour taste in your mouth.

“Unfortunately Sungho, you won’t be dropping off this camera tomorrow.”

“NO, NO, PLEASE!”

“It’s a shame. A man who watches girls younger than your own daughters be taken from their families and exploited in such a distasteful manner… makes me sick.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You walked over and you cocked your gun back again as you aimed the gun to his head.

“Also, Lee Minho doesn’t run this family,”

You turn to Sungho who was crying in pain and pulled the trigger of your gun watching his head fall back as blood and pieces of his head splattered, coating the wall and floor behind you both. You move away and placed your gun back in your holder as you turned back to grab your coat, walking toward the exit. Leaving Sungho’s dead body to bleed out.

“I Do.”

**********

Outside, you see four men talking as you closed the large door behind you. Their views shifted on you and you watched as Minho walked up to you in anger.

“Three gunshots. You killed him.” He spat.

“He saw my face.”

“I had everything under control.”

“An interrogation that lasted two hours is your version of under control? What kind of questions did you ask Minho? What kind of camera does he use? Can he get you a deal at Best Buy?” you mocked.

“Like he told you anything! You were in there for 30 minutes and now we have a dead man and no information, I bet. I bet you killed him because he disrespected you as a woman! I know that really gets your blood boiling and you act like a deranged child!”

“Do you want a demonstration?” You grabbed your gun and aimed it at him until you hear a yelling from behind Minho.

“GUYS SERIOUSLY.” You turned your eyes to the boy who yelled out at you and sighed as Minho began to relax is demeanor. “We are family, we shouldn’t be fighting like this.”

“Seungmin’s right, we could be in a world of trouble and we need to work together now.” Felix reassured as he walked up to you and Minho and pushed your gun down.

You walked up to the group as Minho avoided eye contact with you. You stood next to Seungmin who was looking at you with caring eyes. You smiled because he was the type to always bring down the heat of conversations and make everyone regroup. Next to you stood a smaller boy, with blue hair. He had a soft fox like face and you smiled at him as he admired you.

“What information did you find?” The younger one asked you and you nodded.

“He worked for ‘Y’ in exchange for immunity to his crime charges to come later this week. That camera is supposed to be delivered tomorrow at the train station on the west side but unfortunately there’s been a delay.” You looked the boys who were nodding their heads all except Minho.

“And I saved both of are asses tonight, Minho. The associates are talking a lot among themselves, they believe you are the alleged son of my father. He has pictures of you meeting with secret partners. Had I kept him alive, our secret would have been revealed and the Hwang family would had found you, not just ‘Y’.” You informed.

“Thank you.” he muttered.

“Everyone report tomorrow 9 AM sharp. Seungmin put together a strategy plan for going forth on the ‘Y’ issue. Felix dispose of the body near the train tracks, make sure you make a note for ‘Y’ to see. Minho,-”

Minho looked at you carefully having calm down from the interaction earlier, “Kill all the associates. None of them can be trusted.”

The boys all parted was and the youngest member stood by your side looking to you innocently. “What would you like me to do?”

“I need you to go find Sungho’s family and bring them to safety tonight. Don’t tell the others about it Jeongin, keep your tracker on. Take your soldiers with you.” Jeongin nodded and you hugged him close as he went off.

You walk towards your car and your phone dings in your coat pocket. You pulled it out and read the message that flashed across the screen.

“Just got on to my connecting flight, see you soon ❤️-HJ”

You smiled and put your phone back into your pocket, as you opened and sat in your car, ready to go home.

*************

You opened the oven and was blasted with a rush of heat as you removed the roasted potatoes in the pan and placed it on your stove top. The sound of the ongoing sizzle was still coming from the potatoes drowned out by the soft playing of jazz that you had in the background on your speaker. To the left of your view was the piece of steak you had searing on your pan. It had been a while since you had a nice home cooked dinner. It had been a while since you two have eaten together like this. It had been a while in general. Since you last saw him, leaving you a kiss, one that you still remember fleshed on your lips, and watched him drive away. Just the thought of you two being in the same room made your stomach flip. He was captivating in the sense that he could make you drown in his aura and remove everything around you. It was like you were light like a feather, floating around him, and he was the gentle hand that caught you every time. You blushed to yourself, deep in thought as you began to place the food on the plates you had grabbed from the cabinet above you, remembering how incapable you were when reaching all the dishware in your house, becoming grateful for the way he towered you and helped you in these moments.

You just missed him. And it was difficult for you to admit to yourself that he made you feel secured. There was always fear when you thought of him and how you felt towards this man only to be reminded of how deep of a hole you dug for yourself. Your heart ached every time you had to remind yourself what your true mission was, what the point of this relationship meant. And yet, you pushed it all away. You turned an eye to the ratchet truth because you needed more time. It was a constant fight between heart and mind. Playing a double character all this time exhausted you even when you felt like you were completely and unapologetically yourself in front of this man.

You carried the plates over to your small dining room table and placed them at each end. Stepping back, you absorbed the smallness of the dining room area in your home. You laughed as you took in the lack of luxury in the space, and the lack of luxury in general. You lived comfortably, you never felt drowned in bills, you never went hungry. You had a roof over your head and a bed to sleep in. And yet, if anyone were to ever find out about your true income, they’d wonder why you opted to live in a one story house on the north side of town. You were able to buy the whole damn country if you wanted to. You were able to live a life of luxury and protection, but this is what he wanted. He wanted to show you that he is not who he really is and you acted like you didn’t know what he did, who he was. All these years, he played a character too. That’s how you knew that he loved you the same, if not more. You knew that in order to be with you, he had to tell you, because you had to know what it meant when you took his last name. But in his secrecy, you saw the need of protecting you from a world you already knew so much about and also the aching to hide away and be normal.

You sighed as you reached over to the bottle of wine you had on the table. You unscrewed the bottle and grabbed your glass as you poured yourself a decent amount of red lush. You raised the glass to your lips as you walked slowly to the mirror on the back wall of your dining room. You looked at yourself, watching how the simple silk black dress hung loosely down your chest. Smiling, as the silk draped over your breasts teasingly and stopping just inches from your knees. Your hand caressed your collarbone, down to your chest as you rose your other arm to bring the glass of wine back to your lips. You drifted your eyes from the mirror to your drink as you took another sip of the sweet liquid. It was almost alarming the way your attention was brought back to the mirror when a figure appeared in your peripheral. Your eyes widened in shock as your breath sucked in rather quickly. You looked at the man through the mirror, as he stood long and tall. Dressed in a pair of freshly pressed black slacks, a white long sleeved satin shirt, and blonde straight hair that was tied in his most comfortable form. Half up with two strands caressing over his face. His complexion was such a creamy tone and had a natural airbrush effect. His thick pink lips were painted on his face with intent to make a woman go insane. His eyes were sharp hiding his dark orbs that made your heart flutter.

Ethereal would be an understatement to describe him. He simply was created by all the gods.

He smiled softly at your longing gaze through the mirror, sticking his hands in both of his slack pockets, tongue drifting over his bottom lip naturally.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” you managed to choke out as you turned around swiftly to now face him.

“Should I have knocked?” The sound of his voice was honey and danced through your ears. It almost made you shudder. You exhaled a breath at his comment as he began taking small steps towards you, looking at the mess you made in the kitchen. “What’s all of this?”

“I made dinner.” You sat the glass of wine on the table as you felt your skin tremble with anticipation as he made his way over to you.

“What did you make?” He was so close, voice dropping volume as he walked closer to you.

“I-I made s-steak and p-potatoes,” closer.

“Mmm,” he hummed and got closer.

“and s-some salad-d…” closer.

Until there he was, in front of you. Eyes finally connected, his natural scent and cologne invading your sense of smell, you wanted to drown in it. The heat of his body could be felt on your own as he kept taking steps, making you stumble back until your back was against the wall. He removed a hand from his pocket and placed his fingertips on your forearm, brushing softly, slowly and teasingly dragging his fingertips up your arm as you felt goosebumps form.

“I thought maybe we could, sit and eat..”

Fingertips now close your neck, grazing over your shoulder blade. He tilted his head and his eyes looked down at your body and slowly came back to match yours. He hummed at your words and you eagerly let him stroke over your sensitive neck. It felt like years since you’ve been touched and the thought of him taking you, all of you, flooded not just your mind, but your core.

“That all sounds very nice but,” he paused as his fingers slid up to your chin pulling it gently to face him as he started down at you. He was now centimeters over your face, you were convinced you could already feel his lips graze yours. “I’m actually craving something a bit more….sweet.”

You were almost in euphoria, your mind was clouded with anticipation and desire. Lust was dripping down your legs and you were falling down a hole. Everything around you went black and it felt like it was just you and him. You barely heard the words that came out of his mouth.

“there’s ice cream in the freez-“

“Just kiss me.”

You nodded frantically as he pushed into you against the wall. One of his hands slamming against the wall, the other wrapped around your waist as he brought you closer to his craving body. You had your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him deeper. His lips molded over yours in such an artistic way. It was simply amazing the way you two fit into each other, as if the heavens created you from the same strand of souls. One in body, spirit, and mind, you both became. You longed for the taste of him and it was as if on cue, he connected his tongue with yours, deepening your kiss. There was so much fire and passion, it was as if you two were begging for this. You moaned into him, feeling the vibrations against his lips as he pulled away from you to catch his breath. Eyes hooded, orbs dark and the light of the room stinging your sight as he moved his head to pepper kisses on your bare neck. Your body responded to him by tilting your head to the side and he used his free arm to slip down the back of your thigh, hiking your leg to his hip. The wetness of his tongue coating the hidden veins of your neck as he nipped softly, earning the sounds of your moaning. You felt his hard aching dick push near your core as his fingertips brushed further up your dress, barely touching where you needed him the most. He pulled back, panting and eyebrow cocked up at you as you licked your lips craving his delicious taste again.

“No underwear?” You felt your blood run cold as you remembered your lack of undergarments under the dress. You knew this was how you two would end up but your mind had erased every detail you had planned the moment he revealed himself to you. You just smiled seductively to him as he growled.

“I know my baby girl didn’t think she was going to tease me tonight.”

In one fluid motion, you were lifted off the floor, legs around his torso as he carried you to your kitchen island sitting you on the cold surface, your bare ass touching the marble and you hissed at the sudden feel. He wasted no time pushing all your dishware away and you heard the sounds of metal crashing to the ground, as he made room for you to lay.

“Normally you would have been punished for that,” he uttered referring to your attempt to edge him on. He pushed you back so you could lie on the counter, you grunt as you felt the shivers down your spine. He pushed the fabric of your dress up, revealing your dripping heat. He nearly groaned as he saw the way you glisten and wasted no time taking his long finger to drag up your slit. You arched your back in delight as your pussy throbbed painfully for him. He leaned over your body, lips close to your ear as he let a low hot breath.

“But I’m fucking starving.”

You watched as he leaned down your body and bent his knees to make himself align face to face with your core. He never broke your gaze as he did so and you hitched a breath as you felt his velvet lips kiss your inner thigh.

“Don’t tease,” you moaned out involuntarily. It was all too much, your mind was so foggy and you heard his low chuckled.

“I have to savor every part of my meal, babe” his hot breath hit your wet lips and your breathing heightened. It was agonizing.

A sigh of relief and a cry from your lips rang out as he dragged his long hot tongue over your slit, collecting every drop of arousal you produced and laying flat against your throbbing clit. Your hands immediately rested on his head, fingers intermingling with his soft hair. You pulled yourself up in reaction as he lapped you sensually, drinking you, eating you. You were a mess, eyes shut and rolled to the back of your lids. Intoxicated by the way he performed. He looked up at you as you cried and heaved, sweating beads forming from the edges of your hairline. Profanities slipping from your mouth with every movement he made against you. You felt his tongue part your slit and insert inside of you, lapping all he could, moaning into you. You laid back and groaned, hips bucking up at him to chase more. Licking his way back up to your needy clit, he took the bud into his mouth, sucking and licking it. You felt two of his long digits slip into you with ease and stretching you out.

“Oh my fucking god.” You cried out as you felt him bring you close to your edge. The white hotness built in the pit of your stomach and your legs began to shake. You felt his fingers curl inside you and he lapped deliciously, eyes looking at you as you held on to his head. He smiled as he saw your fucked out face and your mouth was opened, loss of words. He pulled back from your pussy and replaced his ministrations with his thumb as he kept fingering you. Leaning forward he kissed you, your juices coating his face as you tasted yourself on him. He moaned when you arched your self into him and he pulled back to look at you. He knew you wanted to cum. He could feel the way your walls pulsated against his fingers and saw how fast your chest was rising and falling. Licking his lips he came closer your face, forehead resting on yours, one hand now pushing your hips down and the other fucking you into ecstasy.

“Cum for me baby girl.” He pecked your lips softly as you moaned “Cum for daddy.”

Your body spazzed and you cried out to him as he enclosed your cries by kissing you passionately. His fingers slowed down their pace and pumped into you deeper, thumb grazing over your worn out clit, which made you convulse every time he flicked over it. He pulled back and stood over you, pulling his fingers out of your dripping core. You tried to catch your breath as he raised his fingers to his lips and slipped them into his mouth. You watched as he sucked your taste of him. It made your cheeks flush red and grow needy again watching the erotic scene.

“I missed the way you taste,” he smiled at you. You smiled back and found the strength to raise your body to him, sitting up and grabbing his belt loops pulling him closer to you. He bent down and cupped your face as he kissed you again. Your hands fiddling with his belt and buttons of his pants frantically, craving his dick more than ever. You wanted to watch him come undone the way he did with you. As you started to unzip his pants he pulled back and placed his hands over yours. Your innocent eyes looking into his in confusion as he held your hands away from his pants. He knew what you wanted to do, but he had other plans.

“Later, love. Right now I just wanna be inside you” he said softly. You smiled and he resumed, taking his pants off along with his underwear. You watch as his hard dick sprung out of the fabric and you gasped in delight. He wasn’t big or small, but the perfect length, the perfect girth. You licked your lips in the thought of being filled by his cock. He took a hold of his dick and rubbed up and down your slit, coating himself with your cum. You groaned due to your sensitivity and lied back down on the counter again.

“I can’t wait to ruin you” he stated as he inserted himself into you.

“Oh my god, Hyunjin.” You slipped his name out for the first time of the night. His hands slammed on the side of your head, as he hung his head low by your neck, stretching you out. You heard his sighs and groans in your ear. He slipped an arm under your head, pulling you close to him and you gripped his shirt as he whimpered, “Even after all that and your still so fucking tight.”

He snapped his hips into and you yelped. He groaned into your neck and his free hand found yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Faster, daddy” you whimpered.

He lifted his head to look at you, “You want it faster, love?”

He was pumping in and out of you slow and deep. His body melding into yours and your juices slipping out, pooling under you. You bit your lip at his question and you nodded. He pushed his way up and towered you again, grabbing a hold of your legs firmly. He began to quicken his pace as the room was filled with the slapping of skin. The feeling of him inside you was immaculate and you cupped your breasts through your dress as your mouth slipped out anything that came to mind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”

“You like that baby girl, you like when I fuck you like this?”

Your back arching off the counter again as Hyunjin fucked you into another world. It was almost impossible for this man to not bring you into a state of bliss. Each snap of his hip hit you in exquisite ways. His deep grunts and moans sent bubbles in your stomach you watched as he would roll his head back to the pleasure you gave him. The way he spoke to you in moments like this were difficult to overcome. You could cum just by his words alone.

“God y/n you feel so fucking good.”

You could feel the pit of your stomach grow light again. Your walls began to pulsate around him and he could feel that you were chasing your second orgasm of the night. He smirked at you as you began to convulse, feeling the white heat rise to your ears.

“Are you gonna cum again, love? Am I making you feel that good?”

“Yes Hyunjin, fuck, you’re fucking me so good...”

“God dammit.” He growled.

Everything paused for a second as Hyunjin grabbed you off the counter, still inside of you, and he carried you to the dining room, kicking one of the chairs out for him to sit on. He sat down bringing you on top of him, slamming down on his slick member.

“AHH,” you moaned, tossing your head back at the different angle you had of him.

His hands rested in your ass and he leaned into your ear, “fuck yourself to oblivion, love”

You nodded as you rested your hands on his shoulders. You began to rock yourself back and forth on his dick, moaning loud. His hands helped you as you felt your orgasm grow closer and you began to lose your strength.

“Come on baby, give it to me,” you rocked faster and faster and soon you felt your orgasm inch closer. The pit of your stomach churned and the walls of your pussy clenched. “That’s it baby, cum for me.”

You cried out again and you felt your lower half give out to the intensity of your orgasm, you stopped moving for a second as you breathed in heavily trying to catch your breath. Hands still resting on Hyunjin’s shoulders and head hanging low, you felt so light, so spent. Hyunjin gripped your hips and began snapping his hips up into you, your eyes shut tightly as you gripped him, screaming. Your head now resting on his shoulders, body almost limp to the overwhelming orgasm you just had. Hyunjin fucked into you like a mad man, having not reached his high yet. You moaned into his ear at the overstimulation as he grunted to you. You finally felt like you had enough strength to finish him off and you began rocking yourself back to meet his thrusts.

“FUCK” he yelled as you didn’t let up. Your lips found the skin under his ear and you lapped and sucked on it tasting the sweat that formed in his neck from tonight.

“I’m gonna fill you up so fucking good.”

You smiled against his skin as his thrust grew sloppy. Your lips moved to his ear and you placed a soft kiss before whispering, “do it, baby.”

He groaned on cue and whimpered as he snapped his hips into you hard. You felt the warm spurts of his cum hit your walls inside you and you didn’t let up to the way you rocked against him, wanting to milk him dry. He gasped and tried to hold you still, unable to handle the sensations.

“Fuck, oh my god y/n,” he sighed as you stopped overstimulating him and just sat there in the chair with him still inside you.

You raised your head to look at him, both of you fucked out, and you smiled as you leaned in and kissed him again. He cupped your face into the kiss and held you there. The heat radiating of your sweaty bodies and the smell of sex filled the air as the both of you kissed each other with so much need. Pulling back slowly, you rested your forehead against his with your arms around his neck.

“I am never leaving for that long ever again” he stated and you laughed as you moved a piece of his hair off his sweaty forehead, fingertips lightly touching his vein that the top that always came out when he was working hard like that.

“You were gone for a week” you responded and he pecked your lips a few more times and moaned softly.

“A week too long” he smiled and caressed your lower back as you still sat on him. “I missed you too much”

“You’re back now, and I’m not letting you go anywhere” you kissed his nose cutely and he pulled you in for another kiss.

“Sorry about dinner.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad you got what you were craving” he smiled.

“Oh honey, that was just an appetizer” he stated as he lifted you both up off the chair. You felt him grow hard again inside you as you laughed. He kicked his pants off his ankles and began walking you to your living room. Finding your couch, he laid you down and kissed your neck as you giggled. He pulled back and made a goofy smile as you reached your hand to caress his face. He tilted his head to kiss your fingertips softly as you smiled adoringly to him.

“I love you so much y/n” He leaned in to hover over your lips and your heart skipped a beat to his words.

Because you knew that no matter what, you were falling into that hole, deeper and deeper. And you didn’t know if you wanted to escape, no matter the consequences. Because this, here like this, with him was all you wanted. For the rest of your life.

“I love you too Hyunjin.”

***

A/N: Ahhh, it’s out. The first chapter!! I hope you like it and are excited about the series as I am! If you made it to the end and are reading this you are loved <3

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parkjiminiemouse · 3 years ago

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Killshot: Yang Jungwon

Pairing: GN Reader x Yang Jungwon

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: None

——————————————————————————

Something chronic bit demonic, I’ve been on the late shift. All alone, staring at my phone.

You had been waiting for Jungwon all night. You were fully aware that he was an idol and had a job to tend to but you had just called Jake and he informed you that they had been hanging out for the past 4 hours. Any other night this would’ve been fine but tonight was supposed to be special, it was your birthday and Jungwon had promised to take you out for dinner weeks ago. But lately, your relationship with your lover has been falling apart. Now, is it all his fault that it’s doing so? Of course not, relationships are a two person job after all but it’s difficult to mend a relationship when one is actively not trying to do so. So there you were, waiting for Jungwon all alone with your phone in your hand, waiting for him to call you just once.

Sin and tonic, stupid promise, something like a death wish. All alone, stare into my soul.

You twirled the promise ring on your finger as you sat at the table, blowing out your own candles, with nothing but a homemade Gin and Tonic to keep you company. “Stupid fucking promise..” you mumble under your breath as you watch the rest of the unhardened wax melt onto the top of the cake. It was just like Jungwon, making promises he couldn’t keep. It didn’t use to be this way and maybe that’s why you both were still fighting for this relationship, because you longed to have it go back to the way it used to be, to feel the way you used to feel.

If I wanna stay alive. You should never cross my mind, Yeah I knew it. I been through it.

Thinking about Jungwon wouldn’t kill you but thinking about Jungwon and your current relationship with him would bring you to tears and to cry in front of his bandmates would be worse than death. After all, they’re completely unaware of the disintegrating relationship in front of them. You always knew Jungwon had a talent for many things and acting was no exception but for you? Pretending everything was okay was the hardest task anyone could ask of you. So, as the night went on, you distanced yourself from your boyfriend and stuck around Sunoo and Niki, clowning around with them. They were one of the best ways to stop Jungwon from crossing your mind, therefore the best way to stop yourself from thinking about and admitting your relationship was crumbling right in front of both of your eyes.

If I fall in every time, wicked love will leave me blind. Yeah I knew it. I been through it.

You’ve had your fair share of bad relationships. Unfortunately, your relationship with Jungwon is turning out the same as your past ones. But you didn’t want that, yes you were angry at him but you’d rather stay away from the intense amount of pain break ups cause you.

Soft sobs escape your lips as you slam the door, walking out of the dorm. You hoped that since the members would be gone you and Jungwon could spend time mending your relationship back together but it was clearly the last thing Jungwon wanted to do. Now, Jungwon has been being painted like the villain here and that’s evident by the last few excerpts but let’s not forget that he’s hurting too.

Oh god, can you make my heart stop. Honey with your killshot baby, I mean it so serious. God, can you make my heart stop. Honey, your killshot baby, I mean it so serious.

Jungwon watched as you ran out of the dorm sobbing and it hurt his heart to see. He still cared for you deeply and he knew his actions weren’t evident of that but this was his first serious relationship and he was at a complete loss. He was fully aware his members were there for him but part of him was too embarrassed to ask let alone have a full conversation discussing all the problems that currently filled the relationship.

The boy was fully aware that his words were harsh but each word you had spewed back hit him like bullets. You always had the ability to make Jungwon’s heart stop and usually he didn’t mind as it made him feel bubbly inside. Unfortunately, this time Jungwon’s heart stopped and he felt his stomach drop. He had never heard such cruel words escape your lips before. Whether it was during your relationship or before you had gotten together but despite the cruel words you spewed at him, he had even crueler ones to retort back and so he did.

Stolen nectar, misadventure. Something like a death kiss, growing cold under your control. Knowing better, twisted pleasure got me feeling breathless. Growing cold, will you let me go

Your lips crashed together, tears streaming down your lover's face as you whispered soft apologies into the air. It was the first time in a long time that Jungwon and you had kissed and that thought alone sucked the warmth from the kiss away and suddenly the cold, crisp night had nothing on the way your lips felt as they met his for another time before you finally pushed him away.

Catching your breath, his eyes met yours as he looked at you slightly confused. But by the time you had finally regained your composure your mind was already made up, “Let’s break up.” you whisper into almost silent night, nothing but the cool wind filling the silence.

You could see the gears turning in his head before he shakes his head, his chocolate brown orbs looking straight into yours, “No.”

If I wanna stay alive. You should never cross my mind, Yeah I knew it. I been through it. If I fall in every time, wicked love will leave me blind. Yeah I knew it. I been through it.

You were fully aware that the moment this relationship ended, it would be over for you. You would probably refuse to date as despite all the fighting, Jungwon had stolen your heart and kept it as his own.

Jungwon on the other hand felt selfish, he knew he was hurting you and yet he was so unwilling to let you go. Was there a particular reason for him doing so? Of course, because he loved you and wanted you around forever. He was fully aware that you had been through many bad relationships in the past and while he can’t say the same for himself, he was determined to not be one of them. He wouldn’t leave you blind and helpless like your past lovers. Instead, he’d stay with you forever and lead you to eternal happiness, with him of course.

Oh god, can you make my heart stop. Honey with your killshot baby, I mean it so serious. God, can you make my heart stop. Honey, your killshot baby, I mean it so serious.

As much as you seemed to hate to admit it, Jungwon and you both knew very well that he could make your heart stop in both a good and bad way. Fortunately, as of late, he was making your heart stop just like he did at the beginning of your relationship and what he had planned for your first year anniversary was what you considered to be your killshot.

Come and get that honey. Sweeter than I ever knew. Tell me that you love me. Love me till my lips turn blue.

“I’m in love with you Y/N L/N.” Jungwon says suddenly and even though you both had known that you were in love with each other, the words shocked you to the core. Not only were you speechless at the declaration but the members were as well. Silence filled the room as you wracked your brain, unable to form a coherent sentence. You could feel the members and Jungwon’s eyes burning into your figure. You must have looked freaked out because your boyfriend quickly scrambled to take his words back, “I- that’s not what I meant! I don’t love you- I mean I do but-” You cut him off with a soft kiss before he could spew out any more of his word vomit and pull away laughing softly.

“I love you too idiot.”

Got you in my head like, how long, how long?

#angst #kpop angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #Enhypen fluff #Yang jungwon #jungwon imagines #jungwon angst #jungwon fluff #jungwon #enha jungwon #kpop fluff #fluff #enha #Enhypen

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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Text

constellations.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: as usual, an ajf fic that requires very little context. i’m so sorry this took so long!! i was busy thinking about how to quit my job this week and then KIRA CAME TO VISIT ME (we’re being safe and covid-conscious!) so this took a couple of days longer than expected. also - i see your beautiful messages! i will keep chipping away at them :)

you can expect the route 66 fic on tuesday at 11pm pdt!

words: 4.4k warnings: canon-typical discussions of violence, some mention of canon-typical sexual assault, language

summary: as hotch recovers from the explosion in new york, you find yourself more concerned than you expected. (au!2008)

masterlist | a joyful future master list | requests closed!

“The Angel Maker. I remember the case.”

It’s a fairly normal start to the week, with a case packed and ready for you at 10am. Aaron was out of the field for a week or so with his injuries, but his presence at the round table and the go bag you spotted beside his desk this morning warms you.

He’s back. Not completely, but that’s better than not at all.

“They caught that guy.” Reid’s flipping through the case file, but you know he’s got one ear open.

Rossi’s on the same page, and finishes Reid’s thought. “And executed him.”

“That’s right,” JJ says. “He was put to death by lethal injection a year ago yesterday.”

You release a little breath you were holding. “Yesterday?”

That’s a clear enough trigger for a fanatic. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen something like this, either with your tenure at the BAU or in previous case studies at the academy. It was always a little shocking - the lengths people go to complete the work of the devil they romanticize...

Derek throws a finger at you as if to say Exactly. “So we’re looking for a copycat.”

“Honoring the anniversary of his hero’s death.” Dave sits back in his chair, almost satisfied. You smile a little.

The confidence of a seasoned profiler.

Aaron catches your smile, and his lips pull just the barest amount. You shake your head, suppressing a wider grin.

Funny, isn’t it?

His brows tug. What?

It’s so...normal. And so predictable. You sit back, peering at Aaron over your copy of the file. He huffs (you recognize it as a laugh, though the rest of his face remains exactly the same) and turns his attention toward Reid, who’s still flipping through the file.

“It says here they found semen at the crime scene. Perhaps locals will get a DNA match through VICAP?” When you follow Aaron’s gaze to Spencer, you’re not surprised to see him already absorbed in the latter half of the report.

“See, that’s where things get weird.” Her face screws up. “They already ran it, and got a match.” She throws the file toward you, and you open it.

“If they already have a name, why’d they call us?” Emily’s confusion is swallowed up in your own.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” You look over at Hotch, who takes the file from your hands. “The match they got back on the DNA is to Courtland Bryce Ryan -”

Hotch lets out a sharp huff. “The Angel Maker.” You meet his gaze again.

This is going to be a weird one.

“Wheels up in thirty.”

+++

You lean against the back of Hotch’s chair, peering over his shoulder as ideas bounce around the cabin. He’s focused on Reid along with the rest of you as the younger agent spins a theory.

Derek’s the first one to question his particularly amusing line of thought. “Reid, you’re not seriously floating the idea of an evil twin, are you?”

“No. I’m floating the idea of an eviler twin.” Reid looks dead serious, and Hotch glances up at you. You shake your head a little, and he shrugs before restoring his attention. “Traditionally the concept is good twin and an evil twin. But in this case, it’s evil twin, eviler twin.”

You swallow a laugh as both Derek and Emily look at him like he’s grown three extra heads all at once.

Before any of you can say anything, Aaron’s hand rises to his forehead and his face scrunches up in pain. You place a hand on his shoulder from over the seat, patting him for his attention. “Hotch?”

He hums something that sounds like, “Yeah?”

“Are you cleared to fly?”

He sucks in a breath to cover a wince, and you take that as a no.

You sink your hands into his hair as he tips his head back against the seat with his eyes closed. The tips of your fingers find the little pressure points around his head, and you lean forward, keeping your voice soft. “Does that help?”

He nods, just a little, and you’re satisfied. You look at Derek over Hotch’s head, and he looks just as concerned as you feel.

+++

“I give you a legacy. A breath of life from the Angel Maker himself. Those who prayed to forget me will one day see my face and shrink in fear.” Reid recites aloud from the letter, and you listen with your head propped on your hand.

The sheriff sighs and crosses his arms. “That’s the last thing people need right now.”

“Reid, how does that compare with the original correspondence?” Derek ignores the sheriff, redirecting his attention to the letter and the genius holding it.

You jump on Derek’s line of thinking. “It can’t be authentic, can it?” You drop your hand from your chin and lean toward Spencer, feeling Aaron hover over your shoulder.

“They share some compelling characteristics. I’d obviously like to look at it under a magnification under a better light…”

Obviously.

Hotch’s voice almost startles you, right by your ear. “Best guess, Reid?”

“I’d say it’s authentic.” Rather than looking at Hotch, he looks at you. Your furrowed brow speaks for everyone present.

“How can it be authentic if the guy’s been dead for over a year?” Looking over at Hotch, you hope he has something better than paranormal speculation.

He doesn’t disappoint. “It could be an elaborate forgery.”

“Or,” Reid adds, “it could be a genuine article, just written before his death.”

You hum. “That's my favorite of the theories so far.”

The sheriff shakes his head, coming up on your other side. It’s almost comical the way you’re all crowded around the letter. “Mail here isn’t that slow.”

Derek’s the only one who hasn’t joined you. He’s still happily posted up at the desk, leaning against it with his arms crossed. You glance at him before offering, “Could have been released through an intermediary.”

“You mean the copycat?” Reid asks.

Nodding, you suggest, “He could be buried in those visitor logs - we’re checking them out now to see who visited Ryan and how often.”

Derek finally joins you. “That’ll narrow the suspect pool.”

Hotch flinches again and his fingers press to his brow as the front door opens, allowing the rush of a truck to sound through the room.

“Hotch?”

He waves you off. “I’m fine.”

Liar.

There’s nothing you can do.

+++

You’re with Derek in one of the interrogation rooms, going through letter upon letter from Ryan’s time in prison. “What happens if Hotch actually loses his hearing?” You can’t help the overwhelming notes of concern coloring your voice. “I mean, what are we going to say to Strauss? ‘Excuse me ma’am, if our unit chief goes deaf because he won’t fucking slow down, can he still be our unit chief?’ I mean - “

You shut your mouth as Hotch walks into the room. Shame floods through you. It was more than unkind to talk about him behind his back as it was, and here you were - broadcasting your worst fears about his condition to one of your closest mutual friends.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean -”

Aaron once again waves you off. “It’s alright.” He comes to rest beside you, and you reach for his arm in apology.

“How are you feeling?”

He shakes his head, and Derek leaves the two of you alone, closing the door behind him. Hotch looks over his shoulder, satisfied that you’re on your own.

“Dizzy. Nauseated. Tired.” It’s like a checklist - matter-of-fact and without bias.

You take stock of him. The cuts on his face are healing nicely, and the bruise on his cheek is fading. The bags under his eyes, though, betray the lack of sleep. “What can I do?”

He shakes his head with something that isn’t a smile if you don’t know him. “Nothing. Just keep doing good work.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive earlier.”

“I know.”

“I’m just worried, is all.” Your voice tapers off at the end of your thought, just a little embarrassed.

A little breath leaves his nose, and you know it’s sort of a laugh. “I know.” He presses a hand to your shoulder for a moment before diving into one of the boxes himself.

+++

Hotch walks quickly, and you keep up as best you can as he informs the sheriff, “I have to advise against this.”

“All due respect, this isn’t your town. I have to convince them that Courtland Ryan is dead and buried.”

Hotch glances back at you, and you shrug.

Small towns. Serial killers. What are you gonna do?

The cemetery is relatively quiet, the sleepy town waiting for something to happen with bated breath. It’s not like anyone would be taking late-night walks anytime soon.

His head tips, and you know he agrees. Nevertheless, he turns back toward the sheriff. “You’re indulging the killer by perpetuating the ruse he’s created.”

Nice. Five dollar words for the two-bit sheriff.

“He’s right. It may embolden him. Prompt more murders.” Emily says, watching the proceedings with a discerning eye. You can only agree.

The sheriff shakes his head. “Celia lost her only daughter to that murdering bastard. We met when I was working the case and had gotten close. I thought we were past all this, but...I guess I was kidding myself.”

The crane starts up, and there’s a sinking feeling that you’ve forgotten about something as the chains tighten and begin to lift the coffin. All at once, you remember and turn as Hotch steps away, his hand over his ear and the other pressed against his brow again.

You hover beside him, not sure what to do. Pressing your hands to his forearms, you do your best to shield him from some of the sound with your body.

He makes a weak attempt to wave you off, but his voice startles you. It’s so small as he insists, “I’m alright. I’m fine. Just -”

“Hotch -”

“I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay. Yeah.”

You don’t believe him for a second, but as the noise decreases, so does his agony. He removes his hands from his ears for a moment. He’s blinking rapidly, looking simultaneously dazed and far too aware.

“Aaron…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Your lips press into a thin line and you remove your hands from his arms. “Take it easy. I can’t make your life hell if you can’t hear me, alright?”

Your teasing has the intended effect, and he levels you with his signature glare that’s only halfway playful.

+++

“The victim is Maxine Chandler. The neighbors say she’s lived here her whole life. All twenty-eight years of it.”

The house is infused with the presence of children - play structures, toys, the whole nine. Aaron voices your thoughts. “How many kids does she have?”

“None of her own. She runs a daycare. The guy who called 911 came here to drop off his toddler and found Maxine in her bedroom.”

That’s an eventful morning.

“Well,” you note, “now that we have more than one victim, we can compare victimology.”

Hotch nods, and you meet his eyes for a moment. “Different data points should help us significantly narrow the profile.”

“I’ll get JJ to bring us the files on the first victim.” Morgan says, his phone already in his hand.

“What did you find?”

The coroner runs you through his findings, and they’re not much different from the first murder, but there is one notable difference.

“Nine puncture wounds,” Emily notes, her dark eyes roaming over the body.

You’re close to Hotch, watching them bounce off each other. It’s always inspiring to watch them. As close as you and Aaron are, you were deeply impressed but his professional relationship with Emily. There’s part of you that chalks it up to your age - they are only two years apart. They form their own little age bracket on the team while you, JJ, and Spencer make up the younger strata.

More often than not, the three of you were able to keep up with each other just like Emily and Aaron.

“Can I have your pen?” Emily asks.

“Yeah.” Hotch pulls the pen from his inside pocket, handing it over into her eager hands. “What is it?”

You wait as she doodles something into her notepad before her head whips up. “She did this.”

“What do you mean?” You’re not following, and you can tell Hotch isn’t either.

“The unsub. She made this before she made the puncture wounds.”

Hotch tips his chin, understanding. “That’s why the coroner found paper in the wounds.”

“It was a template. The Angel Maker did it from memory, but she needed a guide to get it right.”

You pull your phone out, already dialing Reid as Hotch says. “We need to go back and re-examine each of the patterns. Where’s Reid?”

“Spence. Hey. We have something for you.” You pass the phone and a little smile to Hotch, who takes both with a grateful look.

Emily watches the exchange, feeling suddenly like an outsider - almost an intruder. There’s something between you two, always has been, but this moment is such a clean-cut outline of it. You’re constantly anticipating the needs of the other, ready with a warmth and fondness at a moment’s notice.

She sees it again when he presses your phone back into your waiting hand. You take it and brush past him as he turns over his shoulder to follow you out the door. It almost looks choreographed. In fairness, you’d both done it what feels like thousands of times before.

When you pause in the living room, both turning at the same time when Derek calls for Hotch, a shadow of a thought crosses her mind. It’s gone before it’s truly there, and she lets it go.

+++

Reid’s finally cracked it, and you’re all crowded around him again as he explains what he’s found. He profiled the author, figured out the cypher used by the Aryan Brotherhood, and generally made use of his insane brain. The patterns themselves are constellations, woven into every aspect of their relationship.

You find a smile breaking out over your face as you listen to Spencer spin. Hotch leans over and whispers, “He hasn’t let loose in a while, has he?” You’re standing on his left, of course, just in case.

Shaking your head, you laugh a little. Emily’s looking at Spencer like he’s from another planet. She pokes him and voices the thought you’ve all had at least once. “He’s so lifelike.”

Her comment gets a laugh out of you and a smile out of Aaron. You’re warmed by it.

+++

You clear and search Chloe Kelcher’s house, staying firmly attached to Aaron’s seven o’clock position, right off his left shoulder.

“Alright. We all know what the endgame is. She’s looking for her final victim. She may have already chosen one.” Hotch looks around, suggesting assignments with the flicker of his eyes around the house. “Let’s tear this place apart, look for anything that might tell us who she’s targeted.”

You follow Hotch and Derek into the nursery, noting the stars on the ceiling. The crib captures your attention - the carefully placed onesie indicating the pain of a woman in denial. Your brow crumples, and Aaron steps up beside you, nudging a couple of stuffed animals out of the way as a cursory search.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just...thinking.” The trigger is as clear as a neon sign, and you’re sure much saner people would break down like this at the loss of a child. There’s a silent prompting as he stands beside you, waiting for you to elaborate. “I dunno. I can just see how someone close to reasonable would be in bad enough shape after something like this, not to mention someone as unstable as our unsub.”

He sighs. “It must have devastated her to think that she could hold on to Ryan by having his child and then lose the baby.”

Derek hums from across the room, joining the conversation. “Completing his murders became the only way she could hold onto him.”

Something strikes Aaron then - something intangible. He turns and opens the trunk in the corner of the room. Its contents pull your upper lip up in disgust.

With a dubious pair of eyebrows, Aaron notes, “Not the only way.”

“Guess that answers that.”

+++

You reach the final victim’s house, and you can only hope you’ve made it in time. Hotch immediately assumes authority, leading collaboration between the BAU and local law enforcement. He assigns Derek to find an opening into the house, while he directs the sheriff to bring all the cars to the front, no lights.

He finds a megaphone for Emily, and you take your place at his left side, crouched to take the low firing point through the car’s open window.

“Hit the lights,” he directs, and they do.

All at once, it’s bright - nearly daylight. Emily starts talking, and you’re singularly focused on the front of the house. The windows, the door, and the curtains are all within your purview. You glance up at Hotch, who glances down at you. He unholsters his weapon, and you bump his hip with your elbow and return your attention to the front of the house

“Go into the pouch next to my extra magazines.”

You can sense rather than see his frown.

“Just trust me. Open it.”

His left hand finds your belt while he continues to scan the area, unclipping the pouch without looking. You hear a huff of laughter as he finds what you left for him.

“Put one in your right ear and don’t argue with me.” Your voice is still low, but you dropped into the tone you learned from him, only half-joking.

He rolls his eyes and stuffs the foam earplug in his bad ear before unholstering his weapon.

“Door,” you warn as the front screen opens.

“Chloe. Drop the gun.” Aaron’s voice is heavy with authority, and the sheriff backs him up.

The world slows down when she raises the gun toward you all, and the sheriff fires. Despite the earplug, Aaron immediately collapses, dropping his service weapon at your feet and covering his ears with his hands. You holster your weapon and turn toward him on sheer instinct.

You retrieve the gun, checking the safety and slipping it into your waistband. When you return your attention to him, he’s almost folded completely into himself, pained groans leaving him. Rossi beat you to him, half-holding him up, but he shifts Aaron to you when you reach them both.

“Aaron.” You wrap him in your arms and he takes some of his weight as his feet get back under him. He leans into you, and you do your best to support him. “Hotch, are you okay?”

He reaches out, finding your arm and gripping tight. You stay steady, almost in tears. It’s agonizing to see him in pain.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Liar.

+++

The next day, it’s decided he’ll drive one of the cars home, instead of taking the plane.

You laugh as Derek throws the keys at Spencer. Hotch steps up beside you, throwing his go bag in one of the cars. Going out on a bit of a limb, you ask, “Want any company?” You keep your voice low, just in case anyone’s listening.

First of all, you don’t want to out yourself in front of your colleagues - they all know how much you care about him and you don’t want them getting any ideas. Second of all, you know how Hotch gets when he’s alone too long.

He raises his eyebrows for a second, but Dave interrupts his thought before he can share it with you. “Why don’t you two drive together? It’ll be a better trip with some company and you can’t stand the rest of us for more than three hours at a time.”

Hotch snorts. “Fine.” He looks over at you and you shrug and throw your go bag in the backseat with his.

“I’m good with that. What are you thinkin’? Straight through, or are we taking a the scenic route?”

Dave pipes in again. “I think a couple of days could do you both some good. It’s been a long few weeks.”

You and Hotch look at each other. You look back at Dave. “Good idea. See you Tuesday?”

He nods and joins the rest of the team in the other car, slipping into the passenger seat.

+++

The car is quiet for the first half hour or so. You’re driving - it’s the only way Aaron can hear you in the car, so you’ll probably nap or post up in the backseat when it’s his turn to take the wheel.

You glance over at him before you hit the state line. “You’re thinking very loudly over there.”

A smile pulls at his lips. The heel of his hand supports his cheekbone as his elbow rests on the window ledge. “Am I?”

“Mhmm.”

He shrugs a little. “It’s weird not driving.”

“Ah. So that’s why you’ve been silent for the last…” you check the clock on the dash, “thirty nine minutes.” You’re teasing him and he knows it, but it’s also loaded with questions.

There’s silence, and you wait for him. It’s another thing you’ve learned about him in the last year. Sometimes he’s quiet, but he never avoids you for long.

“I’m thinking about Kate.”

There he is.

You prompt him a little, intrinsically knowing he needs a direction. “Did she have family?”

He nods. “An older sister. She’s flying in from London for the service, but their parents are gone and she wasn’t married, so...that’s it.”

Still looking at the road, you reach out, wrapping your fingers around his forearm. “I’m so sorry, Aaron.”

His hand covers yours for a second. “Thanks.”

You pull back, adjusting your grip on the wheel. A question pushes at your lips, but you roll it around in your head before you really consider asking it aloud.

“You can ask.”

Your head whips toward him for just a moment. “What?”

“You can ask,” he repeats, the shadow of a smile crossing his face. “I know you want to.”

You concede with a little chuff. “Fine. What happened between you and Kate?”

“In what sense?” He’s totally fucking with you, and you shove at his shoulder.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

He shakes his head. “Alright, fine. There was…” he searches, “a moment when she and I were finished working together on the Scotland Yard case that something...happened.”

“Something?”

“Well,” he amends, “nothing actually happened, but let’s just say she had a couple too many and made her intentions very clear.”

Can’t blame her for that one.

Yeah, and that’s why we don’t get drunk with everyone else. Shit happens.

You glanced at him, suppressing a smile. “So what happened?”

He shakes his head, and there’s a sort of dry humor in his voice when he answers,“Obviously, she was pretty out of it, so I took her back to her place and made sure she was settled for the night with a glass of water and some aspirin.” A smile cuts through his huff of laughter. You’re not surprised to hear mourning in it, too. “She was miserable in the morning, and called me to ask what happened the night before. I may have...very loosely implied that something small might have happened, just to save her the embarrassment.”

He pauses, and you know he’s a little reluctant to be this vulnerable - you’re almost sure he never expected to tell this story to anyone, let alone you.

“The attraction was mutual, so I didn’t feel too bad about omitting the consequences of her…” he searches for a word again, “forwardness. It was - is - something I respect about her both personally and professionally.”

“Did you ever tell Haley?”

He shook his head. “I told her the truth - that she needed some help getting home, I set her up for the night, and came right back. She wasn’t thrilled, but she and Kate got on well enough that she didn’t mind too much. I think she was more annoyed that I got home so late even without a case, now that I’m thinking about it.”

You laugh a little. “That sounds like her.”

“She wasn't always like this, you know.” His voice takes on something a little more pensive, and you settle deeper into your seat to let him know you’re listening, even if your eyes hardly stray from the road. “We had a ridiculous amount of fun together when we were younger - first married, I was fresh out of law school, everything ahead of us, and all that.” He heaves a sigh. “It’s really only since Jack was born that things got...bad.”

He pauses, thinking for a moment. “I wish I could explain the work to her - I sometimes wish she could see it, even though I never actually want her to see the things we see every day.”

You keep your voice light, understanding. “I get that. It can’t be easy knowing that we’re your family, too, and even that’s difficult to explain.”

There’s silence, and you know there’s a tacit agreement in it.

His next comment comes a little from left field, but it makes you smile. “She likes you, by the way. She really does.”

“Good.” You glance over at him. “I’m glad.”

There’s something he wants to say, and you raise your eyebrows expectantly, knowing he can see it in your profile.

“Would you want to come over sometime and spend some time with Jack? I -” he exhales, and tries again. “It’s sometimes...weird to have him all to myself.” He laughs a little. “I almost don’t know what to do with him all day when it’s just the two of us.”

A real smile breaks across your face. “I’d love to.”

He nods, satisfied with himself. “It’ll be nice for Haley to see you as well. I know she feels a little cut off these days.”

“Understandable.”

Another bout of silence fills the car. It’s comfortable. Safe.

“Thank you,” he says, after a long while.

You look over, letting your eyes wander down his profile for a moment. “Of course.”

+++

You stay at a little motel off the highway, pulling over after about four hours on the road. It’s only a little ways back to Fairfax, where you’ll drop him off at home before returning the car to Quantico, but Rossi’s right - it’s nice to take some time.

In two separate double beds across the room from each other, you wish each other good night in the dark.

+++

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#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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andilovetowrite · 4 years ago

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Chosen Couple (Part 3)

Peter Parker x Reader (The reader is an Avenger)

Summary- Peter and you have a movie night to celebrate the school year ending, but the night takes an unexpected turn. Suddenly, you wish you had never even gone to Peter’s house in the first place.

Warnings- Pretty bad angst, but then again, it’s my first time writing it, so I am open to comments and suggestions on how to improve it.

Posted: April 26, 2021

Word Count- 2.3k

Part 1 and Part 2

Feeling your face heat up, you read the card again and again. Could it be for you? Could Peter like you back? But you got your answer quite quickly.

“What are you doing?!” Peter asked, dashing to you, webbing the box shut.

“Uh, just checking out what was in the box…” you said, crossing your fingers behind your back. “Who’s it for Peter?”

He stared at you, and for a second, you thought he was going to say your name, tell you that he liked you back, tell you that he wanted to be more than friends. But it all went down the drain, and your heart sunk to your stomach when he blurted out. “MJ!”

“MJ?” you asked, feeling pieces of your heart tear into two. Peter looked shocked at what he said, eyebrows furrowed at the slight shake in your voice. But he couldn’t take it back now, could he?

“Y-yeah...uh, I.. um, like MJ, and I told Mr Stark the other day, and he helped me buy these things for yo-her”, he said, stuttering lightly. Maybe if you had paid attention, you would have seen the slight look of desperation on his face, but you were too busy trying to keep a neutral face.

“You told Tony before you told me?” you asked randomly, trying to mask the pain in your voice.

Again, Peter looked crestfallen, looking at the ground before nodding. “You know, because MJ is your best friend, and I thought that if you knew, you might tell her and she might reject me before I even could tell her how I feel” As Peter went on with the sentence, you could see his eyes start to shine a bit, and the small ball in your throat started to grow bigger, almost choking you.

You could feel a slight tingling in your stomach and hands, meaning your powers were beginning to become stronger. It usually happened when you were angry, but now, it made sense that it showed up whenever strong feelings were blowing up your mind. Numbly nodding, you picked up the beautiful copy of the book he had gotten her, now understanding.

You weren’t the only one who liked the book. MJ loved it as well. A couple of weeks ago, you two were chatting about it in the cafeteria, laughing and joking around, and then Peter had shown up, pulling you aside to ask you what was the title of the book that had you enamoured. Well, which had MJ enchanted. Putting it back down, you gulped, forcing a smile on your face. The air was uncomfortable for a couple of minutes, neither of you saying anything. Peter kept staring at the ground while you were blinking rapidly, trying to have a weak attempt at keeping the flow of tears threatening to burst out. Just as you were about to leave from the high tension, open the door and leave, the lights flickered back one by one, the TV’s sounds filling the room again.

“Um, do you want to finish movie night?” Peter’s voice asked from behind you, making you hesitate. You had two choices. You could either go home and cry under the comfort of your bed and then rant to Nat and Wanda about your conundrum, or you could suck it up and endure few more hours of torture, knowing that the last four years of your life spent on loving you best friend would be in vain…. See, you had never taken the easy way out in anything.

So you nodded at him, not saying a word as you slowly walked back to the sofa where you were just about to confess your feelings. Not even touching the blanket, on you and Peter earlier, you pulled your feet up, hugging your knees. Peter sat from across you, reaching out his hand as he might touch you but then pulling it back. You could hardly pay attention to the movie, which was probably the sixth one.

Instead, you focused on the clock, watching the minutes tick by slowly. Second by second. You knew him long enough to see that he wasn’t paying attention either. Any time you spared him a glance, he seemed far away, glassy-eyed and lost in thought. Just as the movie was ending, Peter asked out loud, his voice sharp and brittle.

“Why are you so weird?”

Looking at him properly for the first time since you opened the box, you were speechless. Why were you weird? Maybe because you thought you and Peter were close enough to share little things like crushes. Maybe you were mad that he could trust you with his life on the battlefield but not with his high school crush. Maybe you were furious that he went to Tony for help. Maybe because you thought that he and you were closer than him and Tony. Maybe because you were angry that he couldn’t just suck it up and tell you that he liked MJ. Perhaps because you liked him like he liked MJ, and just maybe because you thought that he wanted you like he liked MJ...

But you couldn’t tell that to him, so you just said back in an emotionless voice. “I’m not weird at all. Why do you think I’m weird?”

Not expecting you to beat around the bush, he answered back, hints of a frown showing up on his face. “Well, you haven’t said anything since I told you I liked MJ. Do you have some type of problem with her?” As soon as he finished, his face contorted into a frown as if he was in pain.

Shocked that he would even ask that, you shot back. “I don’t have any problem with MJ. Hell, she is my best friend. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me about this simple secret?”

He spat, answering me back as he stood up, towering over me. “What’s your problem?! Just cause I don’t tell you about my crush? Oh, and by the way, it’s not a simple little secret. I’ve loved her for years!” His jaw clenched lightly, slowly looking you in the eyes.

Shaking your head, you stood up, now standing the same height as him. “I’m don’t have a problem with anything. I just thought that you- uh…-”, gulping softly, you gaped at him, “Peter, why are you acting like this?”

Breathing heavily now, he glared at you, hate in his eyes, mixed with something you couldn’t make out. “Why are you acting like my mother Y/N?!”

“What the hell Parker? I could’ve helped you out. We’ve always done these things together”, you said, pushing out the words. Your stomach twisted as you said you would help him, curling with envy and jealously towards MJ.

“Oh yeah? Like how you asked for my help with Brad?”

Exasperated, you threw your hands up, light lavender light starting to show from your fingertips. “What is it with you and Brad? He’s a great guy!”

“Uh-huh, and that’s why you thanked me for launching you out of that problematic date of yours, right?”

Starting to feel tired and feeling the weight of your fight beginning to fall on you, you just gazed at him, trying to figure out why his face was red. “Is it because of the movie? Or the exams?”

“Y/N, I don’t know why you can’t just-”, going to sighed, hands running through his curls. The only time you had seen him this broken was when Tony had taken away his suit and when you came with him to find the Vulture. You took a deep breath, moving back from the couch. This was the first time you and Peter had ever fought on something so minute. So irrelevant. Something so damn hard to swallow for you. Peter clicked his tongue and then called out, fire laced in his words.

“Well, maybe it is because of the movie. You keep saying that you like Harry and have spent your whole life loving him as a... character, but now, judging from your glances at the screen, Ron’s the one you want, don’t you?”His eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he spoke.

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” you asked accusingly, folding your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know? Maybe because you just have bad taste in men!” he said, sneering at you. Not once, ever in the six years you had known Peter did you see him sneer at you. But this only fueled the anger deep within your chest.

“Well, in that case, you probably don’t even like Hermione so much. You would like someone like Ginny Weasley! You tried to stop, but you couldn’t as you went on, airing all of your problems out.

“Oh wait, and your right, I do like Ron better. It’s because Ron is tall and cute, part of sports teams and oh yeah, he gets all the girls. He has experience with a girl, and I think that’s what makes him more interesting than Harry!” you said, knowing that the topic had gone off the movie long ago.

Peter almost looked hurt for a couple of seconds as you spoke of ‘Ron’, but then he clenched his jaw, face hardening. “Well, your right then! Ginny is the perfect girl. I mean, her life is smooth and secure, with family and friends surrounding her. Not like Hermione, whose parents don’t even care about her, let alone anyone else.”

As soon as Peter finished, you could feel the anger draining out of you, replaced by a blinding pain in your chest. You could see Peter’s eyes widen in realisation, softening apologetically. Letting out a long breath, you stood up, not wanting to let him see the tears welling in your eyes. “Why would you say that?”, You asked as you let out all the pent up energy, stress and emotions you had been holding in for the evening in one go. Picking up your phone, you began walking to the door, ignoring Peter’s calls behind you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” Peter said, calling out, his voice cracking towards the end. Gritting your teeth, you kept going. You were taught from a young age never to cry in public. You had kind of let that go with Peter, though. He was your best friend. You two used to talk about many things, about school, movies, family, friends. You had comforted Peter every year when his parent’s death anniversary came around. He was a shoulder to cry on when being an Avenger became just too much for you. But you had never cried because of Peter. Never but none because of your fight.

Oh, and coincidentally, that little piece of advice was given by your parents. Your parents who...left you. Almost forgot about you. Feeling a fresh new set of emotions burst through your mouth. Whirling backwards, you stared at Peter. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, almost hunched over under your vision. He glanced up at you, eyes bloodshot. “I’m sorry”, he whispered helplessly.

Dark purple light started emerging from you, making your hair stand up. You could feel your heartbeat get faster as you pushed out every last bit of hatred you could muster. Peter’s face was now reflecting the violet light, lip quivering ever so slightly.

“Why would you use my parents? You know how I-” Feeling a sob jump out of your throat, you collapsed on the floor, the purple ring around you flashing out before the apartment became as dark as before. Just as you fell, you felt Peter run over to you; arm’s circling you. You could feel his hair tickling your neck as he bought you closer.

“I didn’t mean it. Please…”, Peter said, holding you tight as his embrace. Wondering if you should push him back, you couldn’t be bothered. Instead, you hugged him back, letting yourself melt into him. You don’t know how long you stayed in that position, huddled near the door, both you and Peter trying to figure things out.

But at some point, when you were sure that you could stand up without becoming a bumbling mess of tears, you pulled away. Peter looked at you, eyes rimmed with red, cheeks puffy with his curls a mess. Sniffing, you stand up, not saying anything as you turn away, opening the door softly and looking back at him, your gaze diverting to the black box.

“Go give it to her Pete. I’m sure she would love it.”

And with that, you walked out the door, into the dark night, rain pelting on your head, but truthfully, you couldn’t care less at this point.

Damn, and I thought this would be a fun, fluffy piece, but it turned into something a bit more… Well, anyway, let’s see what happens next. Will Peter give MJ the box? Will Y/N ever even talk to Peter and MJ? Check it out in a few days when I put out the next part. Also, if you made it this far, maybe follow me to see some more short series and stories about our favourite spider boy :)

Part 1 and Part 2

Part 4

#peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader imagine #avenger reader #avengers #tony stark #mj #spideychelle #angst #peter parker and y/n #peter parker angst

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doyumacy · 4 years ago

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𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 — 2

summary: how did you get herself into this? It all started with a flirtatious smile, an adrenaline rush and a blowjob. you never thought giving taeyong a blowjob in the backseat of his car would put your world upside down. now, almost 2 years later, you moved into your new condo with your two boyfriends, who also happened to be two successful businessmen. everything seemed to be going alright, until they weren't.

warnings: 「dotae x reader, smut (unprotected sex), polyamorous relationship, swearing, angst, mentions of blood, accidents, death threats 」

word count: 「 3,3K 」

ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

Days later, you find yourself walking to Taeyong’s holding a craft bag with food containers inside of it. Everyone in the office knows who you are and some of them always give you judging looks. You are used to them and you don’t care what they really think since they don’t know how your relationship with both men works.

On Fridays, Doyoung, Taeyong and you have lunch in his Taeyong’s office or Doyoung’s, since they are in the same building. You knock on Taeyong’s door twice and opened it.

“I’ve got to finish this, and then I’ll be all yours honey I promise.” He grumbles over some papers without looking up at you.

“No it’s fine, we still have to wait for Doyoung.” You smile.

He looks up at you, with a smile, and when he takes in what you’re wearing, his face changes. Mouth dropping open for a moment before he bites his lip, eye raking up your body.

“Is that one of my shirts?”, you nod your head innocently, stepping further into the room closing the door behind you.

"Kinda matches my leather pants," you shrug.

Taeyong pushes his chair away from the desk, patting his knee.

“C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.” He says it in that low growl that lets you know you’ve got him.

You go and sit on his lap, and he adjusts the papers on his desks to one side, making some room for you to rest your hands over the desk.

He wraps an arm around your waist pulling you close, and places a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“How long do you think you’ll be?”

“Not too long, I just need to go over this contract.”

You give him a small nod, and he quickly gets back to work, eyes diligently going over the words line by line.

You sit for a moment, watching him work, and pretending to read the contract with him before you start moving your hips against him. Slow movements at first, as if you are just adjusting yourself, but then quicker more purposeful circles grinding down. The hand that’s been resting on your thigh comes up around your waist, pulling your back closer to his chest. Your face split into a shit-eating grin thinking you will finally be able to pull him away from his work when he stops you making you let at the most pitiful whine of his name.

Of course, he is tempted to let you keep going, and eventually pull you down to your knees and have you suck him off. But that is not correct, not if Doyoung isn't there

That doesn't mean he is not going to have his fun first.

You adjust yourself, turning into his side, burying your face in his neck. You bring your lips up and down it, finding the spot you know he likes just under his jaw and gives it a good suck.

“Oh, my baby just wants attention, hmm?” He smirks, one hand slowly running up your thigh, teasing, the other resting on your cheek.

“Mhm.” you nod, pulling yourself out of his shoulder, a full pout on your lips.

“Well, you’re going to have to be patient.”

“No, I have been all week. I don’t want to anymore.”

You lean down, to bury yourself back into his neck, but he pulls you back, heavy hand on the back of your neck.

“Good girls, don’t get what they want by being bossy, now do they?”

You try so hard to wipe the pout off your face but you are just so…needy! And he isn't doing anything about it.

Still, you stop your cheeky hip swivels and slow grinds, to let him get back to his work. You sigh, defeated. Then you feel one of Taeyong's large hands slowly inching up your thigh.

He teases you like that for what feels like forever, fingertips slowly going up and down your inner thigh, before he finally reaches your pussy. He doesn't move his hand, just let it rest heavy over your pants.

You hold your breath, biting down on your lip resisting the urge to grind down on his hand. There is nothing stopping you. Taeyong hasn't forbidden you from getting yourself off on his hand, but something about the way he spoke to you earlier. ‘Good girls don’t get what they want by being bossy’ It makes you want to wait.

To be good for him.

So when he finally moves his hand and puts one of them inside your pants, he starts working you over your panties, you let your body go lax, leaning back against his chest. You couldn’t help the little whimpers that leave your lips, and you can't see Taeyong but you know he has the smuggest smirk on his face. It only takes his fingers over your panties and you are a painting mess.

He continues to work his fingers, making slow circles tight circles on your clit, all while keeping his eyes on his paperwork, and highlighting where he sees fit. Not so much as a glance up at you.

Cocky bastard.

His movements begin to pick up, and when that familiar heart begins to pool at the pit of your stomach, you let out a particularly loud moan. And he stops.

He stops.

Totally and completely, stops.

He pulls his hand away from your clit and rests it on your thigh, giving it an innocent and affectionate pat.

“You okay, honey? Not getting too bored watching me work are you?” He asks voice as soft and sweet.

You groan. "Taeyong!"

"Huh?" He cocks an eyebrow. "What do you want, baby?

"You know..."

You reach your hand back, gripping on his thigh, giving it a hard squeeze. In part to make him stop teasing you, but also for something else to hold onto as he continues toying with your pussy.

“Good girls ask.” He coos, voice still husky and stern.

“I wa- I need to come. Please.”

"How?"

Before you can answer, someone knocks on the door and Doyoung comes into the office. He glances at you, squinting eyes. "What are you guys doing?"

"(Y/N) is reading with me the contract," Taeyong smiles.

You nod quickly. "I just pretend I know Japanese. I had to kill some time waiting for you." You pout. "I'm starving."

Doyoung giggles and closes the door behind him. "Sorry I keep you waiting. I was on the phone with my mom.."

"How is she?" Taeyong asks, as he stands up, helping you to get as well.

“She's great. She and dad are going to Tahiti tomorrow,” Doyoung comments, loosening his tight.

“We should go on vacation as well,” Taeyong tilts head to the side.

“Definitely, but somewhere cold. I don’t like the beach,” Doyoung glances at you. “What do you say?”

You purse your lips as if thinking. “Zermatt?”

“Switzerland again? We went there last year,” Taeyong walks away a few steps back to the table where the food is.

“But we really had a great time there, don’t you remember?” You smirk.

One of the corners of Doyoung’s lips lift. “She's right. Besides, we have a villa there. Easier and we can stay as long as we want to.”

Taeyong sighs. “Then you two better keep me warm.”

“Bet.” Doyoung pulls out a chair and sits. You copy him.

After you three are done eating, you stand up and walk to where your expensive bag is. You take out two black velvet envelopes with stylish pearl brooch embellishment and invisible magnet closure. You smile and hand one to each one.

"What is this?" Taeyong grabs the envelope, looking at it.

"It's the invitation to the magazine's anniversary party," you smirk.

"This is so nice," Doyoung's eyes wind. "It's so elegant. Thank you for the invitation, love."

You simper. "Thank you and you're welcome. Some of the editors from other countries are coming, I'm so excited."

"You're gonna do great, baby." Taeyong finds your hand and kiss it. "You're the best."

Then, Taeyong leans forward. One of his hands on the back of your neck, the other on your hip. Guiding you closer to him. His lips captured yours.

Doyoung almost walks towards you two when you wrap your arms around the other boy and pull him closer to your body.

But he didn't.

At the end of the day, the three of you are together.

(...)

The next day, you get home earlier than expected and find Doyoung watching TV. You change into more comfortable clothes and sit next to him. You don't remember how this all happened. First you were sitting in the living room watching a movie with Doyoung and now you are being shoved against the kitchen counter with Doyoung pinning you back.

Doyoung's arms are on either side of you, his hands on top of yours and pinning them onto the counter. He leans in close, slouching down a bit to get to your eye level. "We were just discussing suit bow colors," you bite your lip, your eyes still trained on him.

A small chuckle escapes his lips, eyes half lidded, mouth curving upwards into a smile. "The way you talk sometimes turns me on."

You can't help but feel your cheeks grow warmer by the second as you sigh loudly. "I can't believe that the man of my dreams says shit like this."

This catches Doyoung's attention, perking his head up. A wide smile is plastered onto his face. "Am I the man of your dreams?"

"Is it me you're talking about?" He tilts his head.

"Well, what do you think Sherlock?" You smart, smiling.

You feel your heart jump when he immediately pulls himself closer again, hands sliding around and wrapping themselves around your hips to bring your body closer. Doyoung accidentally uses a bit too much force, accidentally grinding your hips together as you suddenly let out a small moan. He smiles.

"You said I'm the man of your dreams."

"W-well, I.. haha."

Your face grows warmer and warmer by the second, watching how Doyoung brings his face closer to yours until your noses are touching. This makes you melt beneath him, wanting for it to happen already. Why does Doyoung make you feel so small around him? And why were you saying such things? You also love Taeyong.

Doyoung starts it, leaning in and closing his eyes as he places his soft lips against yours. He uses his hands to pick you up and push you onto the counter, making it a little bit easier for the both of you. He begins to pull himself back, noticing how flustered you are, listening to the soft pants you are letting out.

Your noses are touching again, lips so close to each other yet so far. "Say it again."

"Mm.. hm..?"

"Say it again, (Y/N)."

Doyoung pulls himself back, smiling lightly as he waits for you to repeat the words Doyoung has in his mind right now.

"You're the man of my dreams..."

Doyoung chuckles lightly, repeating the phrase over and over into his head as he leans in and kisses you once more. You smile into the kiss, pulling his body close so he is chest to chest with you, sliding your arms up and around his neck as you wrap your legs around his waist. Doyoung keeps his hands on your hips, rubbing circles on the skin.

A moan escapes you as you feel Doyoung slide his tongue into your mouth, rubbing your crotch against his stomach to try and get more friction. He chuckles, pulling his head back and taking the moment to admire the mess you are looking like now. It is a beautiful mess.

You can't help but whimper a bit, embarrassed by the scene you are in, kicking your legs out and back in from your seat. Doyoung laughs a bit, pulling his hand up to cup your cheek, forcing your head up to look at him. He places a quick kiss on your lips before pulling back again, smiling as he stares down into your eyes.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Doyoung."

“Fuck me.”

“No.”

“Huh?” You frown.

“I’m not gonna fuck you, I’m gonna make love to you, (Y/N).” His expression softens.

Now in the bedroom, Doyoung cups your cheeks, kissing you. His eyes are so focused on yours. He then kisses the corner of your mouth. “I love you so much it drives me insane."

Doyoung brings his hands to your stomach and slips them beneath your shirt. Your eyes fluttered closed as he leans in and kisses you.

Doyoung kisses you deeper before grabbing the edge of your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You sit up in bed, taking his shirt off of him and slot your lips to his.

You let out a heavy breath as Doyoung kisses your skin. He presses his lips to your collarbone, trailing between your breasts and down to your stomach. Lifting your hips, Doyoung takes your sweatpants and panties off. You watch him, lips parting when he pushes down his pants and boxers.

Doyoung pumps his cock a few times and reaches with his other hand to roll your clit with his thumb. You gasp slightly in surprise, hips arcing at the slightest touch on your bundle of nerves.

Propping himself on top of you as he melds his lips to yours. You rest your hands on his lower back. You feel the head of his cock peck at your entrance and Doyoung kisses you messily. As he pushes forward into your tight cunt, you sink your fingers harder into his back.

Doyoung moans under his breath. You close your eyes and bite your lip, shifting beneath him when he finally bottoms out. Doyoung slides his fingers into your hair and presses kisses over your neck.

He then starts thrusting his hips back and plunging into you again. You clamp your thighs on his waist and lock your ankles, letting your head fall back to the mattress.

"Fuck,” Doyoung groans, rutting at a slow pace.

You moan out his name. Doyoung slaps his hips against yours, shaking his head at just how goddamn wet you were for him, and thrust slowly deeper.

You sigh a breathy moan. You meet his eyes and bite your lip, cupping his face and kissing him tenderly as he strokes his cock inside your velvet walls. "Ah... fuck. I love you." You say against his lips.

And everything feels different. You feel different about Doyoung, his kisses, his touch... You were madly in love with him.

(...)

“Come on (Y/N) this is the tenth dress you’ve tried on” Jaehyun's voice resonates through the changing room.

You are at one the most expensive dress stores in the city looking for a dress for the anniversary party. “I’m sorry I swear this is the last one” You answer.

“You’ve been saying that since five dresses ago.” He replies giving an apologetic smile to the store employee that has been assisting you.

“Could you please remind me again why are you having a hard time? You don’t even like shopping." He says annoyed.

“First of all, I need to look perfect. Second, some of the editors around the world are coming and I need to look radiant.” You say dramatically, walking out of the changing room winking at him. “Well, how do I look?” You ask while twirling around.

You glance at Jaehyun and notice his index finger strokes his chin thoughtfully. He keeps staring at you without uttering a word. Then he hums. "I love it."

"Yes?" You smile.

"Hell yes. You look hot. Your boobs look amazing," his eyes dart to them.

"Jaehyun!" You laughed, covering yourself..

"Nothing I haven't seen before," he huffs. You remember when you two were in college and night you tried to seduce him while drunk and you blush.

"Shut up, Jaehyun," you growl, pushing him away.

He giggles. "They got bigger tho."

"Another word and I'll slit your throat," you warn him.

Jaehyun shakes his head. "But seriously, you look fantastic. The color pink suits you very well. Doyoung and Taeyong are two lucky bastards.”

You beam and look at yourself in the mirror: you're wearing a long, in different type of shades of pink dress with a plunge neckline. You think it is too revealing, but you feel really good in it.

"This is the one," you state.

"Then we have nothing else to do here," Jaehyun smiles.

"Can't believe I paid $9,000 bucks for a dress," you say as you walk next to Jaehyun to the exit.

"It's not like your bank account is empty now, I mean, you have a black Amex," Jaehyun rolls his eyes.

"Hey, it's not my fault Johnny took yours from you," you laugh.

"I was just getting baby stuff!" He groans.

Your mouth curves into a smile. "Do you have any news on my niece?"

"I do, actually," the corners of his mouth turned up. "We got some pictures yesterday and according to the lawyer, she's coming home next month!"

You press your hands on your cheeks and shriek. "Oh my, God!" You hug him. "This is great news. I wanna met her already."

"Want to see a picture of her?" Jaehyun beams.

You nod smiling. Jaehyun takes his phone out and goes to his photos, scrolling. Then he finds a picture of a newborn baby and hands you his phone. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

You smile and sigh looking at the photo. “She’s so small. Oh my, God. She’s beautiful, Jae.”

“I know,” Jaehyun beams proudly. “I already feel like the luckiest dad.”

“Do you guys have a name?” You ask.

“Not yet, but we’re still discussing,” Jaehyun bobs his head.

“Well, you need to hurry up or your baby will be nameless,” you pat his shoulder.

"You're doing it again," Jaehyun rests his head in his palm while the other hand is holding the menu.

"Huh?" You frown.

"You're overthinking something, what is it?" He wiggles his brows.

You sigh remorsly. "I fucked up."

"What do you mean?" He shoots you a questioning look. "Wait, did you cheat on Doyoung and Taeyong?"

"No!" You whimper. "I mean... kinda?"

"I'm not following," Jaehyun shakes his head.

You bite your lip, slapping a hand to your forehead and pushing back your hair. "Doyoung, Taeyong and I have rules, and one of them is that we can't fuck if one of us isn't there..."

"Who did you fuck?" The corners of his eyes crinkled.

You press your lips together. "Doyoung."

Jaehyun hums in response and crosses his arms over his chest, sliding a little on his chair. "So? How was it?"

You sigh frustrated. "So good, but it was also different, you know? We didn't fuck, we... made love."

"Oh girl, stop right there," Jaehyun leans in, waving hand to shoo you. "Are you hearing yourself?"

"I am!" You growl. "I'm so confused right now, Jaehyun. I even told him he's the man of my dreams and I can't even look at Taeyong."

"As you should." He nods. "Listen, (Y/N), the three of you have amazing chemistry and of course you care and love each other, but you must have more feeling for one of them."

"And I'm guessing it's Doyoung," Jaehyun states.

"I'm guessing that too."

#doyoung smut #doyoung imagine #doyoung x reader #taeyong imagine #taeyong x reader #taeyong smut #nct imagine #nct 127 smut #dotae x reader #dotae smut

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mind-reader1 · 4 years ago

Text

All of Me (Jake x MC)

This is for @princesstopgunswife

A/N: The Jake and MC reunion that everyone wanted.

Find a link to my masterlist here

Warnings: angsty, fluffly.

Word Count: 2,743

Five years, none of them could believe it had been that long since they’d all been together in one place, since they’d all left the island...well almost all of them.

Everyone had mourned the loss of their friend, the person who brought them all together and of course the one who saved them all. Despite mourning her, they still moved forward with their lives, graduated college, got jobs, reconnected. Grace and Aleister got married, Sean and Michelle decided to give it another chance. Even Estela worked to move on, accepting that she could have a life without vengeance. That wasn’t the be all and end all of her existence.

Then there was Jake. He’d lost Mike, he’d lost his wife all in the course of 24 hours. Lundgren was dead, eliminating all his hopes of clearing his name; of going back to the states to see his family again. He stayed in Costa Rica after flying the newfound group of friends off La Huerta. The first few months he would drink himself into a stupor every night, replaying her voicemail until he fell asleep, desperate to hear her voice again.

They had all come to visit him at one point or another, worried about him and how he was coping. Especially Diego, he’d lost Varyyn, he understood Jake’s grief. Diego tried to convince Jake that Taylor would’ve wanted him to find happiness with someone else, but Jake never did, he couldn’t do that to her. Even if they didn’t get to spend their year and one day together, they’d had thousands of lives together on La Huerta and they would always be connected. No one would ever fill that hole in his heart and he didn’t want anyone too. Diego didn’t push, he felt the same way about Varyyn, connected forever.

The five year reunion was upon them now though, Jake leaned against Deliah trying to play it cool, but he was nervous to return to the island, unsure of what to expect. He’d thought so often about going back there himself, about trying to find any trace of her but he’d never been able to bring himself to do it.

“How does he get to look the same after all these years baking in the sun when he doesn’t even use moisturizer!” Jake cracked a smile, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“I think it’s the rum Maybelline, you should try it.” Michelle rolled her eyes.

“Good to see you Jake.”

“Cap.” Sean came up and dropped Michelle’s bags before clapping Jake on the back.

“Caught your last game. Talk about a hail mary, guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks though.”

“Chyeah! Only because I made it possible for him.” “Drax.” Sean and Craig had gone pro and been drafted together, the dynamic duo of the NFL.

“Don’t you nerds have anything to talk about besides football?”

“Skrillex. Hack any foreign governments recently?” Zahra smirked.

“Whenever you want that record cleared, you better have my money.” Jake smiled, Zahra had offered to hack the government and clear his record so he could return home to his family. He felt like he would only be a burden though, were Taylor still with him, things may have been different.

“...the laws of quantum physics clearly state-“

“Malfoy, brain trust! Heard y’all got married. Congratulations!” Grace beamed at Jake and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thank you Jake!” Grace swiftly hit Aleister on the arm.

“Yes, thank you Jacob.”

“Let’s see, still missing Petey, Ariel, Julio Child and Katniss.”

“I’m right here.” Jake jumped and turned to see Estela staring at him, Diego walking up behind her.

“Dammit! You don’t need to sneak up on me like that.” Diego chuckled as Estela smirked and climbed onto the plane.

“What are you laughing at Petey?” Diego innocently held up his hands and boarded the plane.

He heard the laughter of the last two before he saw them, Raj was licking something off his fingertips, no doubt something that had come from the container Quinn was carrying.

“Jake, dude, you have to try one of these cupcakes.” Raj happily rubbed his belly.

“I’m sure they’re great Ariel, but I don’t want to get frosting all over the cockpit. Save one for me once we land?”

“Of course!” Quinn also wrapped him in a big hug and kissed his cheek before boarding the plane.

“All right. Well we’ve got the whole Brady Bunch now….so let’s do this.”

The plane was eerily silent as they flew over the water, their minds inevitably drifting back to the first plane ride they’d taken together. Diego made his way up to the cockpit and took a seat, Jake was rigid at the controls, a death grip on yoke.

“Jake...how are you?” Jake didn’t take his eyes off the horizon, his body trembling softly with adrenaline.

“I’m fine Petey. It’s an island. Been here probably a hundred times.”

“Jake, you know what I mean.” He hated being vulnerable, sharing his feelings, anyone he opened up to he inevitably lost. Diego was the closest connection he had to Taylor these days, he was the sole reason Taylor had even existed.

Talk to him Jake. He could hear her voice in his mind, encouraging him to keep making those connections.

“I miss her Diego. So damn much. I thought I could do this with you all but I’m not sure.” It was the first time Jake had ever called Diego by name.

“I miss her too. I think this will be good for us Jake, maybe we can leave the ghosts behind.”

“I don’t want to forget, I never want to forget.”

“You never could, I’m just saying...maybe it’s time to leave behind the guilt that keeps haunting us.” He had a point, Jake felt guilty still, like he hadn’t done everything he could’ve to make her stay. Deep down he knew that was wrong though, he knew it was her decision and she was a selfless person. She chose the world over herself, so that he could have a life to go back to, maybe it was time to stop feeling guilty about living that life.

“Thanks Petey. Now get back to your seat so I can land.” Diego smiled softly and returned to his seat as Jake made a smooth landing on La Huerta.

Since Rourke’s arrest, Aleister had taken over the Celestial resort. When the world had returned to normal, so had all the guests and the island had continued to operate as if nothing happened. For this weekend though, Aleister closed the entire resort to outside guests and staff. It would be the eleven of them alone.

They all collected their room keys, staying in the same rooms they’d had before, except for Jake. He stared for ages at the honeymoon suite key, it was the room where they’d spent their first night together, something he would never forget. He wasn’t sure he could face it again though. Taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and swiped the key, riding the elevator up to the room, it seemed to move at an agonizingly slow pace.

He entered the room and sucked in a breath, flooded with memories of that night.

Hey you.

Hey.

Jake wandered over to the large pane windows overlooking the island. He remembered every moment of that night, this is where they’d kissed each other, he’d pushed her back up against the glass, desperate to feel her body pressed against his for the first time, what he wouldn’t give to feel that just one more time.

“I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want you.” He whispered in longing.

Then have me. She had said that back to him their first night together and that was the beginning of the end for him. He was hooked. They’d thrashed that room and didn’t give a damn, it was strange to see it put back together. He opened the window to get some fresh air but he could swear he smelled her perfume drifting to his nose over the ocean breeze.

He slammed the window shut and laid down on the bed still in his clothes, staring at the canopy. The bed felt cold and foreign to him, he tried turning on his sides but he couldn’t fall asleep, every time he closed his eyes he would see her beside him in bed only to reach over and find it empty. He slipped out of the room and went down to the beach, snagging a hotel towel on his way out. Maybe a night out under the stars with the ocean waves could help him clear his mind.

Vaanu had been made whole again and should have felt at peace, but there always seemed to be something keeping it from its eternal rest. Just a sliver that felt like it was missing, the feeling only grew the closer the 5 year anniversary of becoming whole came.

Why do I feel as though I am still broken? Vaanu bellowed in despair. Desperately searching for the beacon from its missing shard, it followed it to a well known place, La Huerta. Vaanu summoned the physical manifestation of Taylor that had been created by one of the shards, it could sense that she was the part of itself that was still missing a piece.

“Where am I?”

Why am I still broken? Memories came flooding back to Taylor like a tsunami, saying goodbye to Jake and the others, then it was all black until waking up here. She could hear its voice in her mind and feel exactly what it was talking about, she felt a sense of emptiness. It took her only a moment to realize why.

“Jake.” That feeling of emptiness only grew, she longed to see him again, to hear his voice. She could feel the ghost of his touch on her skin, lighting it on fire with pleasure, a feeling only he could give her. Something she couldn’t live without.

Jake?

“Jake and I fell in love over 1,000 times in different timelines. I promised him a year and a day, a part of my soul will forever be with him.” Taylor wondered how long it had been, wondered if he moved on, if she still felt this broken though she knew he hadn’t and that somehow hurt her more.

Broken.

“Let me be with Jake. If we’re together then the shard is together, you’ll be whole again.” She didn’t know how, but she could tell Vaanu was thinking. “Please, you know you won’t feel whole until he dies and that will be years. Years you could have spent being whole again if you just let me go to him.” She pleaded, desperate.

There was a bright flash and when Taylor opened her eyes she was on the familiar beach of La Huerta, there was a towel on the beach, void of an occupant. She needed to get her bearings, find a way to get in touch with Jake. She was back!

Jake had been unsuccessful trying to sleep on the beach as well, he’d turned to his last resort, alcohol. He’d found some rum but what he really wanted was the good stuff, some strong whiskey that would knock him right out.

Someone poked him in the shoulder and he turned to see who it was, it was Taylor, smiling at him in her blue tank top and khaki pants. He must’ve been hallucinating another memory again.

“Help ya with something Princess?” He turned away, his focus back on liquor, he didn’t notice her frown. She thought he’d be more excited to see her, like she was him. Maybe she’d been mistaken, maybe he had moved on.

“Just seeing what you’re up to.” She said deflated.

“Trying to see if we got any good whiskey left so I can stop reliving all these damn memories. Like this one of you asking me to come to your room. You?”

“Jake...this isn’t a memory.”

“Must be dreamin’ then. Guess I did find the good whiskey.”

“Jake look at me! I’m actually here!”

“You say that in all my dreams and then I wake up Princess.” He whispered heavily, sounding emotionally tired, it would go away if he’d just listen to her! She hit him in the arm and scowled at him until he looked at her.

“Ow!”

“Jake, please. It’s really me.” He shook his head, she could see the pain in his eyes.

“No. You went with Vaanu and that was it. My wife is dead!” He was fighting back tears.

“Jake, what do I have to do to prove to you I’m real, that I’m here?” He turned and grabbed both sides of her face, their lips meeting in a fiery kiss with years of longing poured into it. Taylor melted against Jake and he pulled away, breathing heavily his eyes still closed.

“If I open my eyes, are you still gonna be here Taylor?”

“Yes, Jake. Now please, open your eyes and look at me.” She whispered, cupping his cheek. Her touch felt so real, Jake didn’t want to risk it. He wanted to stay in this moment for just a little longer.

“I can’t Princess. I can’t.” Stubborn ass, she thought to herself.

“Come with me.” She had one last idea up her sleeve to convince him, dragging him to the elevator, she kept their hands laced together as she pulled him to their room.

“I’ve got to give myself credit, this is my most elaborate hallucination yet.”

“Jacob Lucas McKenzie. I am right here, right now, with you. Your wife. Your naked wife. So help me god if you don’t open your eyes to look at me I will go back to Vaanu.” Taylor had in fact stripped down to her red lacy bra and underwear set, she knew it was Jake’s favorite and if this didn’t convince him, nothing would. “Dammit Princess.” Jake opened his eyes and stared. There she was. Still there. In front of him. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He rubbed them and blinked a few times but she was always still there. He was overcome with emotion. He didn’t know if he should cry, kiss her or give into the desire coursing through him.

“I have never wanted anything as badly as I want you right now.”

“Then have me.”

They came together and years of pent up energy came pouring out. Sure they’d wrecked the room the first time, but this was 5 years of pent up sexual energy between newly-wed soulmates, it was a whole new level of destruction before they finally made it to the bed.

As they laid there after, Jake couldn’t stop staring at her, tracing every line of her body.

“I missed you so much Taylor.” He whispered.

“How long was I gone Jake?”

“5 years.” Her heart sank, imagining him alone for 5 years, they could’ve had kids by now.

“I’m sorry Jake, I’m so sorry. I'm never going to leave you again.” He pulled her close and pressed his forehead to hers, their noses gently brushing.

“I wouldn’t survive it if you did Princess. I don’t understand though, how are you back? I would’ve sold my soul if it meant getting you back but I didn’t think it was possible..”

“It’s because of you Jake.” His eyes shot open in confusion. “When we got handfasted, after spending all those timelines together and falling in love every time, a part of me is literally in your heart Jake.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Vaanu wanted me to return so it could be whole, but we’re soulmates Jake. A little shard broke off and resides in you. When we’re together, we’re whole, because we’re whole, so is Vaanu.”

“So you really are back for good? You’re staying forever?”

“Forever top gun.” Tears of joy began to stream down Jake’s face and Taylor wiped them away as Jake wiped hers.

“Good, because it’s going to take a long time to catch up on those five years of married life we missed.” Taylor let out a soft laugh.

“I guess it’s a good thing we don’t have to leave this bed until morning. Now, tell me everything.” Jake laid on his back and Taylor rested her head on his chest, looking up at him as he told her about everything she’d missed.

Finally, I am whole again.

@drakesroyalromance

#jake mckenzie x mc #Jake McKenzie #endless summer #choices endless summer #choices stories you play #playchoices fanfic #endless summer fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #choices fanfiction #reunion #all of me #angsty #fluffly

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ssajj · 4 years ago

Text

Brutus

While undercover, you run into the boyfriend you left behind.

Fem!Reader, 5.1k

TW: nongraphic depictions of violence, swearing, cigarettes, hints of a toxic relationship (not between reader and Spencer), guns

Note: dual timelines! It goes back and forth for most of the fic.

"Are you sure they want to meet me?" You ask, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. It's hard not to overanalyze the outfit you picked out for this occasion, even if you know it's far too late to go back to your place and change. Spencer hates not arriving on time.

He looks at you with a quizzical expression on his face. "Of course they want to meet you."

When in doubt, you love to go for false bravado. "Talk a lot about me?" You smirk, watching a slow blush appear on his cheeks. Stepping forward, you wrap your arms around his middle and gently tug him toward you. He complies easily, his hands automatically settling at the small of your back.

"Is it okay if I do talk about you a lot?"

That makes you smile. "It's sweet."

The blush only gets stronger. "Morgan and Garcia are pretty eager to meet you," he says. "They've been bringing up tonight all week."

He's probably only saying it to make you feel better, but all it does is spike the anxiety brewing in your chest. Garcia's an information junkie; you don't even want to know the things she's already figured out about you. And Morgan is Spencer's best friend. If he doesn't like you, that's probably the beginning of the end for your relationship.

"It'll be great, love," he's firmer this time, melting some of the fire. Your favorite thing he calls you is 'love'. Something about the gentleness of that word, the feelings it implies, and the soft look Spencer gets on his face whenever he uses it makes you want to curl up against him for the rest of your life.

After another moment, the two of you head out the door and to the bar, hands clasped together.

"Y/N!!!!" Garcia practically forces you into a bear hug when you walk over to the BAU's table. "Oh, I am SO glad you could come tonight. I've been looking forward to this for ages! I cannot believe Spencer waited an eternity to bring you around us. You're all he talks about anymore, it's adorable."

You glance back at your boyfriend, who looks a tad horrified. Morgan laughs and slaps him on the back, forcing a cough out of him.

"Hey," JJ greets you, looking so much less intimidating than anyone at the table. You know it's a bit of a farce though. Spencer’s told you enough stories to know that JJ is a woman who can hold her own and hold it well, despite appearances. Idly, you note that she'd be great at undercover work. "I'm JJ. I'm assuming you know that you just got crushed by Garcia. And then there's Morgan, Rossi, Emily, and Hotch." As she said their names, she pointed at them. It was nice to get confirmation, even if you were pretty sure you knew which face belonged to which name.

Hotch nods at you. "It's nice to meet you."

"Is he smiling?" Emily hisses, leaning toward Rossi. "I think Hotch is smiling."

"It's great to finally meet all of you. Spencer’s always talking about you guys," you say, taking your seat. Spencer settles down next to you close enough that your thighs touch. The bar definitely isn't somewhere that he'd normally hang out, but he seems comfortable enough here that you assume it's a frequent spot for the BAU to visit.

A couple hours in, you're feeling tipsy and ridiculously happy. You're getting along particularly well with Emily and JJ, who are both amazing. If he isn't talking to you, Spencer’s usually talking to Morgan and Garcia, who obviously adore him. Hotch and Rossi seem lost in their own private conversations and you wonder if it's because they're the two highest ranking agents here.

"You should totally start joining us when we have girls night!" JJ says, clinking her beer against your glass. "I think you'd really enjoy them."

You nod, feeling flattered. "I'm down to come."

Emily grins, reaching over to knock Spencer’s shoulder. "Your girlfriend is so much cooler than you."

Before you can protest, he nods. "She is," he agrees, smiling at you.

"Awww," Garcia coos, joining the conversation. "Who knew that our baby Spencer was a secret romantic? I love it!"

"A wedding?" You ask, pressed up against Cal's side. It's always a bit uncomfortable, almost like your bodies know you don't fit together, that something is amiss. You just hope that your body isn't the thing that finally gets you killed. "That seems below you."

Cal looks down at you, an amused smirk twisting his face. He wants to eat you up, you think. He wants to devour you. "The groom is an old family friend," he explains. "It's courtesy that I attend. And I can hardly go without a ravishing date on my arm."

You rise up on your toes to kiss his cheek, rubbing a bit at the lipstick you leave with the pad of your thumb. "As long as I get to pick my own dress."

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't let you pick it yourself?" His grip on you tightens enough that you wonder if it'll leave a bruise on your hip. Tomorrow, you know you'll find a wad of cash in your purse. In exchange, he'll get to take it off of you after the wedding.

Mercifully, he lets you go a second later. You step back, walking by him. He's done with you for the day. Your relationship is to the point where he doesn't need to formally dismiss you anymore. You've picked him apart and put him back together. Whether he knows it or not, it feels like you've made him the very man that you hate with every fiber of your being. At least, you tell yourself that you hate him. When it gets too hard, when you find yourself falling under his spell, you picture the last boyfriend you had as yourself. A man full of shy smiles, sweet compliments, gentle kisses, and the most beautiful assortment of random knowledge. When he's in your mind, you don't get lost in the person you're pretending to be. It's the only time you feel like yourself.

Of course, being yourself too much would get you killed, so you limit yourself.

You go dress shopping the next day. Cal gave you an absurd budget, so you manage to pick out an extravagant dress and also a pair of shoes and earrings. This morning, Cal had mentioned that the wedding was going to be a black tie event, giving you an excuse to feel like a princess. Well. Maybe a trapped princess, like Cinderella or Rapunzel. You walk out of the store with a heavy bag on your arm. When you return to the house, it's blissfully empty. Cal isn't due back until late, but you still do a full walk around the house, double checking before you go out to the garden. The first few months you lived here, the garden was the responsibility of the landscapers that stopped by occasionally, but you batted your eyes and sucked on Cal's lip until he agreed to give it to you. Now, no one else was allowed to touch it per his orders. And he wasn't the kind of man his staff said no to.

Basically, it was a perfect hiding spot. You go over to the daisies, digging a little until you find the box that contained your current burner phone. You'd have to switch soon, probably within the next few weeks. It was close to dying and it was never a good idea to keep the same phone number for an extended period of time. You dial the number once, hang up immediately, dial again, let it ring three times, hang up, and then dial for a final time. Your handler answers quickly.

"What?" He asks, gruff.

"We're going to a wedding near Virginia."

You hear him suck in a breath. "Close to where you used to live."

"I know."

"If you get recognized-"

"I won't."

He pauses. "Stay safe."

You hang up the phone and pray you make it through this alive.

On your one year anniversary, Spencer brings you to a museum. He walks you through all the exhibits, rambling about anything he knows in regards to your surroundings. His hands keep waving through the air, his eyes bright and alive, a grin splitting his face. It's obvious that he's in his element.

You love him so badly that it hurts, sometimes.

By the time you reach the gift shop, your brain is full of knowledge you probably won't ever need again.

"Sorry," Spencer says suddenly, looking at you. "Did I just bore you? You know you're allowed to cut me off when I get going."

You shake your head, kissing his cheek. "It was cute. I loved it."

Once you're done there, the two of you head back to his apartment. Last month, the two of you had decided not to do gifts, electing just to spend the day together instead. You cuddle with him on the couch, your body tucked perfectly against his. In this moment, you feel safe. You're with a man you know loves you, and you love him back just as fiercely. Life is good.

You and Cal arrive in Virginia at the crack of dawn, early enough that it feels like you should still be rubbing the sleep out of your eyes even though you've been awake for hours. “Who even has weddings before noon? I didn’t even think that was a thing.”

Cal chuckles beside you, his arm snaking around you. In this moment, it’s hard not to shudder. You’ve never understood his need to always touch you, claim you for the world to see. As far as he knows, you’ve never belonged to anyone else. You were born and bred for this, a perfect lover. Just enough sass, just enough danger, just enough compliance, just enough meekness. He doesn’t know that this isn’t the real you, that you’re always on the verge of screaming your head off. One day, he’ll learn. It’ll end in one of your deaths.

Hopefully, it’ll end in his death.

"We'll stop at the hotel first, darling," Cal takes your hand as he talks, leading you along the side of the road. God, you remember this place. Of course you do. This is your home turf. A new name and a new look doesn't mean that this doesn't feel like home. "You can get changed and refreshed before we head to the venue."

You shrug. "Sounds good to me."

The walk is blissfully short, but the hotel is grand. It's definitely not somewhere you would have been able to afford. Honestly, you're almost disgusted by how the place practically bleeds money and how well Cal seems to blend into this new environment.

Once you're in the room, you toss your suitcase onto the bed, hissing when the action results in a broken nail. Cal laughs at you as you stick your finger in your mouth. He comes over after a beat, pulling at your hand to inspect your nail. For a second, it looks like he's going to lick your finger, but he just lets you go. "Get dressed," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "I want to see how stunning you're going to look."

"Something's off about you."

You whip around, coming face to face with Emily. She's wearing an expression you recognize, but not on her: perfect blankness. There's no trace of a personality, no trace of a name attached to the person that spoke. Something tightens in your chest and you crane your neck to look at Spencer, who's blissfully unaware of the words that were just spoken. Instead, he's fully engaged in a conversation with JJ and Will, hands flapping as they smile warmly at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say to Emily, crafting a neutral but surprised look to wear on your own face. "Not sure I appreciate the tone, though."

Emily scoffs. "Don't play dumb with me. Come on. I know you got the same feeling about me."

She's right, even though you don't admit it. It almost feels like when two predators acknowledge each other in the wild- they know they're evenly matched, and so they go their separate ways. Except that everyone in the room is a predator. You and Emily are a different breed, though.

She's done deep undercover work.

"Ladies!" Rossi interrupts, throwing an arm around Emily’s shoulders. If he notes any tension, he doesn't comment on it. "Why are you being antisocial over here?" He points at you. "Your boyfriend has been talking the ears off of JJ and Will. I honestly couldn't even tell you what about."

You shrug. "They don't seem to mind."

"Am I not allowed to talk to her?" Emily asks, eyebrow quirked. "I need to make sure she's not a secret spy."

Rossi laughs. "Garcia would have already sniffed that out, don't worry. Y/N passed her background check with flying colors."

"Did you?" You ask Emily, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Of course."

By now, Rossi’s gotten a good taste of the strangers of this interaction. He glances between you, eyes narrowing as they settle on you. You don't change your face.

"Actually, I think I'll join Spencer," you say, sliding past the two of them.

Spencer welcomes you gladly, folding you seamlessly into the conversation. Throughout most of it, you wonder how everyone else can understand what Will's saying. For all you know, he could be telling you off.

When you turn your head, you notice that Emily’s still looking at you. When you nod at her, she nods back.

You hope that's the end of it.

An hour in, you figure out that you hate weddings.

It doesn't help that you've been ditched. Cal was stuck to you like glue just long enough for you two to walk in together before he mumbled something about "important business" and took off. Currently, you're sitting alone at a table toward the back of the venue. You don't know what the hell you got so dressed up for or why you chose such a risky dress. One wrong move meant that everyone here was going to see a lot more of you than you were comfortable with.

"Hey, pretty lady," a man greets you, plopping himself in one of the empty seats next to you. You blink at him. "All alone here?"

"I'm here with my boyfriend."

He sighs, putting his sweaty hands on the table. "Now, what kind of man would leave his lady all by her lonesome?"

"How about you leave before I kick your ass?"

Cal laughs behind you, alerting you to his presence. You turn around, smiling at him. He's got a warm look on his face, the one that's only reserved for you.

"Oh!" The stranger yelps, standing up so fast that he rattles the table. "I didn't realize you were Cal's-"

"Just go," you tell him, waving him off. He doesn't waste any time.

Cal takes the empty seat. "I don't know why I bothered having security. You're scarier than all of them."

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. Have fun chatting up all the old rich men here?"

He takes your hand. "I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long." Lifting your hand, he kisses it. You blush.

"I'm assuming you have to go back to that?"

He nods. "Will you be okay here?"

"I think I'm going to go smoke, actually."

He's the one that got you into cigarettes, so he doesn't protest this. "Go out the west wing exit," he says instead. "There's always too much traffic at the main doors."

The two of you part, heading in opposite directions. It takes you a bit to find the right exit, but you're blissful when the crisp air finally hits your face. The view isn't bad, either, but it does make your heart ache.

For some stupid reason, you hadn't realized that the venue was so close to the museum Spencer loved taking you to.

You take your sweet time outside, cigarette dangling loosely from your fingers. It's the most relaxed you've felt all day, away from the prying eyes that know you as someone else. This assignment has already gone on for longer than you'd expected, but Cal is a tough nut to crack. Every time you think you have his complete trust, that he'll tell you what you need to know, a door slams shut in your face, or he gets angry with you for the littlest action. You take a drag, watching the smoke dissipate in the air.

"Y/N?" A familiar voice asks.

Your heart stops.

Your blood freezes in your veins, seemingly distorting everything around you. "What?" You whisper into the phone.

"He'll be okay," JJ soothes. "He's getting checked out by an EMT as we speak, I promise. I'm staring at him right now."

"What happened?"

She pauses, which doesn't fill you with any kind of confidence. "He went in after the unsub without backup. They ended up getting into a bit of a fight before Morgan and I could get to him. The three of us took down the unsub together, Spence is just...bruised."

"Any cracked ribs?" You ask.

"I'll let you know as soon as I find out. I'll call back in a few, okay?"

Before you can reply, the line is disconnected.

For the next eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds, you don't move a muscle. This wasn't the first time Spencer had gotten hurt since you'd started dating- perks of being with someone that hunted serial killers for a living- but that did nothing to comfort you now. Your mind always went to the worst possible place, combing over your last interaction with Spencer, wondering if he died now, would he know how much you loved him? While you were at a desk job currently, most of your career had been spent never knowing if you'd make it to dawn. This had been ingrained in you by now. You've seen people die, you've seen people be killed in a heartbeat. You survived that.

You couldn't survive Spencer dying.

The second your phone rings, it's answered and at your ear. "How is he?"

"Y/N," Spencer says into the phone, and you feel your entire body relax.

Instead of answering him, you burst into tears.

"Hey, hey. I'm okay, love."

"Sorry!" You practically wail, covering your mouth with your hand. "Sorry. What did the EMT say? How are you feeling? When will you be home?"

He answers your questions in a steady tone, obviously still worried about your emotional level. "We're getting on the jet once JJ and Hotch finish wrapping up with the detectives here."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Y/N."

Twelve hours later, Spencer is wrapped in your arms. He has a cracked ribs and an assortment of bruises, but he's breathing and he's here.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you that causes such a dramatic reaction?" He asks, making you tense.

"Spence…"

He sighs. "I know."

This was the biggest rift in your relationship. He pours his heart out day by day, and you're a shell of a woman with none of that to offer him. You can’t talk about most of your career. Even now, at a boring desk job, you're handling other people's undercover identities. You requested a break from going undercover and gotten it, but there's a part of your brain that still knows not to trust that. They could try to send you away tomorrow.

Spencer. Spencer is here. Spencer is staring at you. Spencer just said your name.

You know what you have to do, even if it'll hurt both of you. You'd tear yourself open to keep him safe, set yourself on fire to keep him safe, but that doesn't mean it'll be any easier to break his heart to keep him safe.

"I'm sorry?" You ask, scrunching your face up in confusion. "I think you have the wrong person."

You don't look exactly like you did when you dated Spencer. Your hair is a different color and cut, and your face has started hollowing out from stress and hate. Honestly, there's been times where you haven't even recognized yourself in the mirror.

He repeats your name, taking a step toward you. Instinct has taught you well, so even though you want to run forward into his arms, you take a step back.

He looks different since the last time you saw him. Different, but good. He's filled out more, his hair is longer, and he's holding himself with more authority. This Spencer isn't constantly curled in on himself, you know. He isn't always trying to make himself lesser. He's maintained his kind eyes, though. They're staring straight through you, searching for things you can't give him. All you can remember is the love you shared with him, the love you smashed when you left. It makes you ache.

This is conformation of your deepest fear: he's better off without you.

"That isn't my name," you tell him, cocking your head to the side. The cigarette, you notice, has fallen to the ground. You wonder if he's noticed, but you step on it all the same. "My name is Reva."

"Reva." It sounds distinctly wrong coming from his lips, like it doesn't quite fit despite his efforts to force it. By this point, you're well used to being called the wrong name. Something about the way Spencer says it still makes you want to cringe.

Regardless, he can't know any of that. He still has some hope in his eyes, although it's being muddled by confusion. "Yes," you confirm. "Look, I'm sorry you can't find who you're looking for. I'm not her, though."

"I'm sorry, too."

"Reva!" You hear, and you turn to find Cal coming out the door. Whipping your head back at Spencer, you gesture for him to leave, feeling some of your panic leak out into the open. Cal doesn't get to look at Spencer. He doesn't get to talk to Spencer.

Out of desperation, you practically leap into Cal's arms, kissing him firmly on the mouth. He’s surprised, but since he never says no to this kind of thing, he pulls you closer and deepens it. “Can we get out of here?” You whine, lowering your hands to right below his ass.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

As he takes your hand to lead you back into the venue, you spare one last look at Spencer. He’s rooted to the spot, mouth slightly agape as he stares at you.

You have the sinking feeling that you didn’t trick him well enough.

When you go into the office on Monday, you know. Your supervisor is standing at your desk, a grim expression on his face.

“I don’t want to go,” you tell him automatically.

All the other times you’ve been under, there’s been no one on the other side to miss you. Now, though? You think of Penelope, who likes surprising you with different kinds of flowers, of Rossi, who taught you how to make your first authentic Italian dish, of Hotch, who you just managed to work a soft smile out of, of JJ, who automatically gravitates toward you whenever you’re in a room together, of Morgan, who lifted you up and spun you around when you admitted to him that you could see a forever with Spencer, and god- Spencer. You don’t want to leave Spencer. You could survive without him, but there’d forever be a light missing.

“Come on into my office,” your supervisor tells you. “We have a lot to talk about.”

For the first time in a long time, you cry yourself to sleep.

The next day, you make your way back into the garden. Cal’s out again, probably plotting something that will result in death and destruction. You’re frustrated that he’s been so difficult to get through to, you’re frustrated that you saw Spencer last night, and all you want to do is throw your head back and scream until your throat is raw and bleeding. That isn’t an option, so all you can do is dig up your phone and make the call.

When you tell him what happened, all you get is a sigh before he hangs up. Figures. “Asshole.”

“What do you want me from me, huh?” You scream, hands balled into fists at your side. Your breath is heavy, weighing the room down.

Spencer scoffs at you. “I’ve made it perfectly clear what I want, you just aren’t listening anymore.”

“I can’t give you that.”

He won’t look at you anymore. Tears have started gathering in his eyes, and while you want to wipe them away, you know you don’t have the right. You’re the one that put them there, you’re the one making him act like this.

“It feels like I barely know you sometimes,” he says, and you don’t even have a counter argument for that. You’ve been so many people. At this point, you’re a jigsaw puzzle of everyone you’ve ever been, but he’s missing too many pieces to solve you.

When you don’t respond, he sighs, running his hand through his hair. And then-

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

You suck in a breath. “What?”

His voice firms. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Y/N. I don’t know if this is working. I don't think I want to keep trying."

Before he can say anything else, before you can make your case, before you can fight for him, your legs are already carrying you out the door.

You make a single phone call.

“I’m in. Tell me more about the assignment.”

On a Wednesday, it ends. It's months since you saw Spencer. Part of you had expected some big event to come from that, whether it be Cal stabbing you in the stomach or Spencer somehow tracking you down to save you. Life isn't a romance movie, though, so you just went back to being alone.

And finally, after a century of careful prodding and poking, you get the information you need to take Cal down.

As the sun shines and the birds chirp, the SWAT team bursts through the door, shouting to get down. You scream Cal's name, knowing that your performance isn't going to be over until he never gets to see daylight again.

Unfortunately, Cal never goes down without a fight. He comes out guns blazing, shooting one of the SWAT members before they even register that he's there. In a flash, you're pressed up against Cal's chest, the barrel of his gun pressed to your head.

"You motherfucker," you whisper.

"I'm sorry, baby," he says to you, raising his voice to talk to the SWAT team. "Back off or I'll shoot!"

This fantastic plan results in you bleeding from a bullet wound in your stomach, curled on the ground and Cal is hauled off by SWAT. One of them approaches you once everyone else is gone.

"Good work, Y/N."

You hate hospitals. You hate the lights, the sounds, the smells, and the general fear of death that spikes whenever you enter through the doors. You've already been debriefed, already destroyed Reva. As far as Cal knows, you bled to death on his living room floor.

As you start to drift off to sleep, you hear a sudden clanging from down the hall, muffled voices oozing in frustration. Footsteps start up again, and then-

Oh.

Spencer’s in your room.

"Y/N," he gapes, coming up to the side of the bed. He starts to reach for your hand before aborting the motion; in response, you grab his instead. You're too weak to deny him right now. "Oh, god. Y/N."

"How are you here?" You ask.

"Penelope. I knew it was you outside the venue, and once the shock wore off, I knew you were undercover. We've been trying to locate you ever since, but your name pinged on her alerts when you were admitted here. What happened?"

"SWAT guy shot me."

The two of you lock eyes, and you're horrified to discover that you're both on the verge of crying. "Spence-"

He hugs you, arms gentle as he settles onto the bed. As you sob into his arms, you feel more at home than you have in a very long time.

Two weeks later, you're curled in his bed.

Things aren't normal. You've been gone for over a year and you left things completely unfinished. Not to mention that you've screamed yourself awake every night, panic attacks and sobs wrecking you even as Spencer whispers comforts as he holds you. But you're safe.

Another day later, Spencer helps you sit up before announcing, "We need to talk."

"I know."

He starts fiddling with the sleeves of his cardigan. "You- you left."

"You told me to."

"No! I-" he sighs, pulling harder at his sleeves. "I know it sounded that way. But I love you, Y/N. Then and now. I was never done trying for you."

You laugh a little. It doesn't sound right. "You don't love me now. I'm not even...I don't know how much of myself is even left anymore."

"So let me find out," he pleads. "Let me learn to love all the new things about you, let me cherish what hasn't changed."

"I'm sorry for running."

"I'm sorry for not chasing after you."

Your first date after coming back to yourself is a walk through the park. Spencer figures you can handle that, figures you won't get too overwhelmed or pained from the experience. He still lets you lean against him the entire time.

Since the first initial conversation, you've had many more. You've detailed your thoughts, as well as your experiences with Cal. You fought and fought and fought with your supervisor to get the clearance to tell Spencer, reminding him that you refused to ever go under again and that Spencer was an agent. Eventually, he folded. Spencer still had to sign an absurd amount of paperwork. In turn, Spencer explained the things he'd been up to since you left, how he refused to lose you again once he spotted you.

Things aren't perfect. They are better, though.

"Hey," you say, pulling at his hand until he stops. "I love you."

A big smile spreads across his face, and he leans forward until your foreheads are touching. "I love you too."

When you kiss him, you vow to yourself to never leave again.

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid reader insert #spencer x you #spencer x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds #dorothywrites #spencer reid x y/n

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bondsmagii · 4 years ago

Text

Here’s something I really can’t explain.

To sum up: I shouldn’t be alive right now. I shouldn’t be writing this. I have no idea how any of this could have happened, but the fact you’re reading this now is kind of living proof that it did happen, so I suppose I’ll try and explain it as best as I can.

A little backstory for you. Way back in the late forties, my great-grandfather was a young man working with the local fire department. He came back after the war and just couldn’t settle into any kind of desk job, so despite my great-grandmother worrying about his mental state he ended up running into burning buildings for a living. Naturally he saw some messed up shit, but nothing haunted him more than a hotel fire that he attended.

At the time there had been an annual prize night for a local grammar school. Hundreds of kids and their families were crammed into the hotel’s large ballroom when a stray match lit up the curtains on the stage. Back in the day they weren’t exactly great about fire safety, and the walls and furniture were panelled or made with highly flammable materials. The whole room went up in minutes. Over one hundred people died, over half of which were children below the age of fifteen. It was an indescribable tragedy, and my great-grandfather – along with every first responder there – was scarred for life over the things he saw that evening.

My great-grandfather did his best to live with what happened, and for the most part he did well, all things considered. All of his grief seemed to be directed towards one little girl, who was never identified or claimed. She was badly burned but not unrecognisable; the theory was that her whole family had died with her, leaving nobody left to notice she was gone. She wasn’t the only person to suffer this fate, unfortunately – all told, five people were never claimed by families – but because my great-grandfather was the one to pull her body from the wreckage, he sort of became obsessed with her. He was preoccupied until his death with finding out her identity, and every year on the anniversary of the fire he visited her grave to lay a wreath. Unfortunately, he died without ever finding out who she was.

Fast forward a few decades, and I’m in my early twenties. My great-grandfather died when I was quite young, so I only had a small idea of this part of his history. It was, however, enough to make me wary of large fires – especially hotel fires. One summer, I’m visiting another city for my younger brother’s university graduation, and I stay the night in a hotel near the city centre. I remember fires were on my mind already, because initially they had tried to give me a room on the twenty-third floor, and I had politely refused and requested a lower floor. (An old maxim of my great-grandfather’s: never stay on a floor where you wouldn’t survive the fall.) Because of the graduation, the hotel was packed, and I ended up on the fifth floor in the end, but I figured it was better than nothing.

The first night was fine. The second night a fire broke out. The hotel had had some electrical rewiring done within the last month, and something went wrong. The fire smouldered for hours, undetected, before spreading into multiple parts of the ventilation system. Smoke and flame was pushed to all corners of the hotel before the fire cut out the power. Later, investigators would discover that the fire burned through the power for the smoke and fire detection alarms almost immediately – yet somehow the fire alarms went off. This is only the beginning of the inexplicable that night.

By the time the alarms woke me, my room was already filled with smoke. I had been drilled on this so many times as a child that it was instinctive for me to roll off the bed and onto the floor; only then did I start to panic. Luckily I had fallen asleep with the curtains open – the only time I had ever done that in a hotel – and the city lights illuminated the room enough to let me know the smoke was only in the top two thirds of the room, and not as thick as it could have been. I had time to crawl into the bathroom, wet a towel, and tie it around my nose and mouth. Then I crawled to the door and lay a hand flat on it. The door was cool, so I cautiously pulled it open.

In the hallway, it was pitch dark. This is the worst case scenario for any fire. Smoke disorientates people, and they feel ill from inhaling it. Panic compounds the confusion. People can get lost in their own homes – hotels are the worst place for something like this. People stand little chance of getting out if they haven’t memorised an exit, and even then it’s not foolproof. I should know. I always memorise exits, but when I went out of my room I turned the wrong way. I don’t know why. I was panicking, I was confused, and I just made the wrong choice. It should have cost me my life.

I realised my mistake as soon as I reached the end of the hall. The door there was propped open (fire safety hazard, I remember thinking, like it mattered at that point) but I could see no flames. The door led to the stairwell, and I had just crawled out onto it when the entire world went black. The smoke and flame had intensified, the fire sucking in oxygen and the smoke being forced up the stairwell like a huge chimney. It spilled over the edges of the landing and enveloped me even hunched on my hands and knees. My eyes began to sting and water; I couldn’t see anything. I crawled back and bumped into the wall, and for several long seconds that felt like minutes, I couldn’t find my way out of the stairwell. The heat was evaporating the water in the towel, and the sheer amount of smoke meant it wasn’t doing much good anyway. By the time I finally made it back out into the hall, I was coughing and choking. Panic made me pull the towel down. I only took the smallest breath before the floor tilted under me and I experienced a horrible rush of lightheadedness – with smoke so toxic, sometimes a breath is all it takes.

I kept crawling, heading back towards my room, now realising my mistake. At that point I was forcing myself to stay calm, but it wasn’t working. I had realised I had probably just gotten myself killed, and it was almost impossible to breathe. The temperature was climbing, and I knew the fire was close. I could hear screaming from somewhere nearby, doors slamming. Every single rational thought had left. I scrambled down the hallway in pure panic, and then I saw the child.

She was hunched down, looking right at me. She wasn’t in any kind of night clothing – she looked like she was still in the clothing she would have worn at the graduation ceremony, a neat little dress and polished shoes, a ribbon tied in her hair. She was perhaps eight years old at my best guess, and seeing her shocked some sense into me. Before I could speak or gesture to the direction she should go, she waved and then pointed.

“Come on, mister,” she said. “This way.”

Together we crawled to the other end of the hallway. Smoke was billowing from that stairwell, too, thick and dark though still not as bad as the other one. Either way it didn’t look good, but the little girl didn’t seem concerned – not even when we crawled out onto the landing, and the orange flicker of flames was visible several floors below.

“No,” I said. “It’ll be too hot.”

“Come on, mister,” she said again.

She began scrambling down the stairs, staying as low as possible. I could hardly leave her, so I followed.

The heat was unbearable, and by the time we were on the floor below, visibility was zero. The smoke was so thick and black that even the flicker of the flames had vanished; the only way I knew how close they were was from the heat and the deafening roar of it. Have you ever been near to a large bonfire? Have you heard how loudly it crackles? That’s nothing. Big fires, they roar. They sound closer to a freight train, a tornado. It’s a sound so loud that it sets off a primal kind of terror, even without the heat and the smoke to add to the danger. What I’m saying is that it’s something that’s very difficult to crawl towards, yet there we were.

I couldn’t see the little girl, but every time I began to panic she would reach back and touch me. The heat grew and I could smell my hair burning, my clothing threatening to catch. The floor was excruciating, and while I didn’t realise it at the time, I was in the process of receiving third degree burns on my hands and knees from the floor alone. I felt faint, the heat making my head pound. It seemed to drain my of my energy, and during those last seconds – as we passed directly past the floor where the inferno was at its worst – I was sure I was running only on pure animal instinct to get away.

Then we descended into the hallway below the fire, and it was all gone. The heat lingered, but it was nothing compared to what it was before. The smoke was hazy grey, high up by the ceiling. The little girl was tugging at me, and I realised I’d collapsed to the ground.

“Quickly, mister!” she said now. “Not far!”

In my pain and confusion, it didn’t occur to me that she wasn’t burned; that she had no difficulty breathing. She tugged hard at my clothing, and while I didn’t know that my clothing was alight at the time, later I remembered and wondered how she had done it. With her prompting and encouragement I made it down the last of the stairs and out into the hotel’s lobby, which was shockingly untouched. Alarms were blaring, but the room was free of smoke and many of the hotel’s employees remained there, grabbing people as they emerged, coughing, from stairwells and hurrying them outside. When I stumbled into the lobby I was immediately tackled by several employees who were, I was later told, beating the flames from me. I had stumbled into the lobby on fire.

I don’t remember anything else. I didn’t have time to mention the girl. I passed out, and was kept in a medically induced coma while my body recovered from serious burns. I very nearly didn’t make it, and when I awoke I had several months of painful operations and skin grafts to go. My hands were badly burned, though the doctors managed to save nearly all my fingers – I’m only missing the little fingers to the first knuckle, and while the scarring is bad I can use the hands well. My knees are badly scarred but functional. My back isn’t pretty to look at, but it doesn’t bother me now, not outside of itching in the heat. I forgot about the girl until just before I was released from hospital, five months later, but to my relief I was told that no children had died in the fire. Whoever she was, she had gotten out safe.

Almost a year later, my grandfather died. He was the son of my firefighter great-grandfather, and when my own father and I were around his house, sorting through his things, we came across some of my great-grandfather’s stuff. Medals, a few old photographs of the family, some letters. My father and I went through the pictures, my father pointing out relatives and telling a few stories here and there. What you would expect from such an occasion, really – but then I found an old picture of a little girl.

I recognised her immediately as the little girl I had seen in the hotel – there was no denying it. The picture was an unpleasant one, taken post-mortem, and while half of her body was badly charred the other half looked as though she could be sleeping. Her hair was the same, the bow singed but present. The dress was the same. I could even still hear how she sounded. Come on, mister! I was so shocked I didn’t say anything. My father looked at it for a long moment, and then he gave a sad sigh.

“I wish he had found out who she was,” he said. “That haunted him. He felt like he failed her.” He took the photo from me and looked a little more closely at it. “Nonsense, of course. He did everything for that little girl. I’m sure she would thank him if she could.”

She did, I thought. She did.

#creeptastic #creepypasta #my creepypasta #writing #my writing #short story #fiction #back at it again with the spaghetti afraido

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

Text

Physical Fatality Part 16- Epilogue

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for su*cide mention, alcoholism mention, oral (receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk

Masterlist Kofi

*********************************************

Remembering the Lost Lovers

Today marks the anniversary of the day that shook Japanese hero society to its core.

Three years ago pro heroes Artemis and Hawks went missing after the two went after a dangerous terrorist cell on their own. Although their bodies were never recovered, the two have been presumed dead after the structure was almost completely leveled in the fight. The two have been credited for subduing all but one of the villains, who was apprehended shortly after by pro heroes Deku and Tsukuyomi.

As to the reason why the two lovers took on such a dangerous feat on their own?

According to pro-heroes Dynamight and Shoto, the decades long feud between All Might and Endeavor is to blame. Rumor has it Artemis was set to lose her job over her and Hawks’ involvement and the supposed drama it brought. Desperate to prove that their love wasn’t a hindrance to their work, the two boldly took on a mission too big for just two people to take on without back up. In the wake of their tragic deaths, both All Might and Endeavor received backlash for their role in pushing Hawks and Artemis too far and the clear damage their rivalry had caused. Both agreed to end the feud in order to avoid such tragedy again and, as a show of good faith, stepped down as the heads of their respective agencies. Shoto and Deku have been running things ever since.

On this day let us remember the Lost Lovers of Japan and their bold sacrifice, not just to keep us safe but for each other and their love.

***********************************************

“Pancakes or waffles?”

“Pancakes.”

“Got it.”

Keigo walks into the kitchen where you’re making breakfast, your back to him as you stand over the stove, flipping the bacon in one pan as you begin heating up another. He moves up right behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and dropping a kiss to your shoulder.

“Good morning Love, happy anniversary,” Keigo coos in your ear. “Happy anniversary,” you grin as you turn to press a kiss to his lips. “You see the article Sho sent us?” he asks. “Not yet. What’s it about?” you reply. “Us. Apparently they’re calling us the Lost Lovers of Japan.” “Sounds romantic.” “It is. Apparently we took on the entire terrorist organization together to prove our love wasn’t a hindrance to our work.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Damn even in death they won’t give me full credit,” you joke. “I’m a little offended to be honest. If both of us had gone together from the start? Would’ve had ‘em easy,” Keigo scoffs. “Really now?” “Absolutely. Power of love and all that.” “You’re an idiot.” “But I’m your idiot.” “That you are.”

You turn back to the stove to pour the pancake batter into the now hot pan but Keigo has other plans. He presses tighter against you, dropping another kiss to your shoulder before moving up to your neck. At first you pay him no mind, even though you can feel his growing erection starting to press insistently against you. Then he starts sucking and nipping at your neck more earnestly. You feel your panties dampen immediately but still try to shy away from his touch. “Don’t Kei, the breakfast,” you whine good-naturedly causing him to chuckle even as he tightens his hold around you to make sure you can’t escape. “Fuck breakfast, come back to bed with me,” he insists, grinding his erection into you for emphasis as his hands slip under your shirt and wander to your breasts. “You’re incorrigible,” you groan but the wide grin stretching your face belies any rebuke in the sentence. “Well?” He asks. “Ok just let me take everything off the stove at least.” “No need,” he replies as he literally drags you away from the stove and then using a few feathers to help him hefts you over his shoulder and starts carrying you to the bedroom. Your laughter echoes through your modest apartment as he sends a few more feathers to move things off the stove.

It’s insane to think it’s already been three years since that fateful day you and Hawks decided to give up everything.

You still remember Bakugo blasting in and finding the two of you holding each other close as Shoto created several ice columns to support the roof. He’d been pissed at first but something in the resigned and hopeless look you and Hawks must have had on your faces had made Bakugo pull up short. You and Hawks running away had been his idea, in fact. He and Shoto agreed to tell everyone they never found you and so you and Hawks had stolen away. Since then you’ve bounced from country to country, continent to continent, traveling and performing occasional vigilante work until about a year ago when the two of you finally settled down in one place. Your vigilante work has made the two of you urban legends around town but the city is large enough that no one has managed to identify you both as the vigilantes, nor has anyone recognized the two of you from your previous lives. Initially only Todoroki and Bakugo knew of your true location but the guilt of watching your other friends mourn had soon convinced them to tell Midoriya, Tokoyami, Mina, and Denki. All of you had agreed that visiting was too risky but you and Hawks made sure to call frequently and send postcards from your travels.

Things weren’t always pancakes and sunshine, especially in the beginning. The power of love didn’t magically cure your alcoholism and the two of you had had to contend with the fact you’d literally almost killed yourselves. It had taken time and a lot of healing, but without the pressures of the press and your bosses and work, the two of you had been able to work through it together. Through your vigilantism you’d even developed a healthier relationship with heroics and re-learned precisely what it was that made you want to be a hero in the first place.

It’s not perfect, both of you contend with your occasional bouts of homesickness, but it’s so much better than where you were when the two of you left and for that you are endlessly grateful.

Keigo drops you onto the bed, taking a moment to appreciate your bright laugh as his feathers return to him. It doesn’t take long for him to climb on top of you, pressing kisses all the way up to further encourage those giddy giggles that keep bubbling their way out of your chest. When he finally gets to your lips both of you are almost smiling too much to kiss properly, but then he grinds his hips down in just the right way to draw a moan out of both of you. The kiss turns hungry as Keigo slips his tongue in your mouth. You slide your hands beneath his old tshirt to drag your fingers along his torso before lifting his shirt off and over his head. He returns the favor, making quick work of your shirt before kissing down your torso to the waistband of your pajama pants. He carefully slides them and your panties down at the same time, drinking in every newly revealed inch of bare skin with a reverence you’ll never get used to. Once he’s finally removed the garments he presses kisses to your inner thighs, ever the tease, before finally licking a stripe up your waiting sex. You shiver under his attentive touch as he slowly begins to lave your folds with his tongue before slipping it inside you. He savors the taste of you on his tongue, knowing exactly where to apply pressure and how to lick to have you keening above him and moaning his praises. One of your hands finds its way to his hair to tangle there. At first you just idly play with the locks as you close your eyes and let yourself enjoy the feeling of his tongue inside you, but then his nose brushes along your sensitive clit and you can’t help but tighten your hand into a fist, tugging his hair in the process. He takes that as his cue to replace his tongue with his fingers and move his mouth to instead lavish attention on your clit. He licks and sucks at it as if his life depends on it, finger fucking you at a steady pace until you’re crying out your ecstasy, orgasm sending what feels like electricity crackling down your spine and through your fingertips.

Keigo draws back once your orgasm has passed but he isn’t done with you. He presses a gentle kiss to each and every scar he finds on your body, some of which are even from that fateful night three years ago, before he kisses your lips again. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it sends shivers down your spine. “Ready for another round already baby?” Keigo asks as one of his fingers finds its way to your pussy. “I’m always ready for you,” you respond as one of your hands goes to tangle in his wings. His reaction is immediate, eyes fluttering shut as he groans. He uses his feathers to roughly shuck off his sweatpants, his hands otherwise occupied as one supports his weight and the other collects the wetness gathering along your folds again already. “You’re so wet for me baby. You weren’t kidding when you said you were ready,” he teases as he massages your clit briefly before slipping two fingers in you almost immediately. “I want you. Want you inside me,” you tell him, tugging on his feathers to emphasize your point. He hisses, squeezing his eyes shut to focus on not spewing his load over your beautiful body immediately. “Patience baby,” he replies instead, adding another finger inside, but how can you be patient when he looks so beautiful above you? You wrap one hand around his achingly hard cock, gathering the precum already welling at the tip and use it as lube as you begin to stroke along his shaft. You have to resist the urge to smirk when his fingers stutter in their rhythm.

He abruptly removes his fingers and you whine at the sudden emptiness, although you can’t complain too much when you notice him use it to hold his balance as he curses and squeezes his eyes shut again. His hips move of their own volition, canting into your hand as he almost instinctively chases the pleasure you’re bringing him. “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up sweetheart,” he pants. “Maybe that’s the idea,” you tease but he shakes his head before gently grasping hold of your wrist to stop your hand’s movement. “I want to fill you up baby. Can’t do that if I’m painting that beautiful body of yours instead,” he tells you and it makes something melt inside of you. “What are you waiting for then?” you ask fondly. “So sassy today Love,” he chuckles as he lines himself up. You’re plenty prepared for him, taking each and every inch of his considerable girth with ease as if you were made for him and his dick. “You always take me so well,” he pants out. “You always prep me so well,” you counter. “I’m gonna start moving.” “Ok baby, do it.”

You will never get used to how perfect it feels to have Keigo thrusting into you. He starts out slow and languid, easing you into things before he starts to pick up the pace. Each tug on his feathers and every moan of his name just spurs him on more as he fucks into you. “Fuck baby I love you so much,” he moans. “I love you too. I love you so much Keigo,” you reply without hesitation. He continues to fuck into you harder and harder until finally he hits that perfect spot inside you and you cry out as you fly into your second orgasm of the night. Your walls clench and flutter around him, as he chases his own pleasure now. His rhythm starts to get sloppy as he gets closer and closer, your fingers and quirk playing through his wings to help get him there faster. With one final thrust he moans out your name and topples into his own orgasm, his cum filling you up in the most sinful way as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. After a moment he’s finally spent so he slips out and collapses onto the bed next to you. He’s quick to pull you in to cuddle against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The two of you just stay like that, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms and the companionable silence. After awhile, as he rubs your back soothingly and you listen to his heartbeat through his chest, he finally speaks up. “I think it’s about time we head back to Japan,” he admits. You perk up at that, raising your head to look up at your boyfriend properly. “You think so?” you ask and he nods almost immediately. “I know you’ve been getting just as homesick as I have and I think we’re ready.” “It won’t be easy. Three years is a long time to be away with everyone thinking we’re dead.” “I know, but as long as you’re with me I think we’ll be ok. What do you think?” “I think you’re right,” you smile up at him. “Good, because the others would kill me if I tried to marry you when they couldn’t come,” he replies nonchalantly. “What did you just say?” you ask, bolting more upright in bed. “I said-“ “No, no I heard what you said. What do you mean?” you ask cutting him off. He chuckles at the bewildered look on your face as he sits up in the bed too. He leans over to open the bedside drawer, rummaging around for a minute before producing a small box. He turns back to face you fully and opens the box to reveal a simple diamond ring inside. Your hands instinctively fly up to cover your mouth in shock. “(Y/n) (y/l/n),” he begins and you can already feel tears welling in your eyes, “I have loved you since the first night we met. I know it took a lot for us to get here but I would do it all again and again and again so long as it meant I got to stay by your side. Will you make me the luckiest idiot in this whole stupid world and marry me?” “Yes! Absolutely yes,” you gasp around happy tears as you launch yourself into Keigo’s arms. He laughs and it’s the most pure and idyllic sound you’ve ever heard. He pulls back just enough to take the ring from its box and slip it onto the ring finger of your left hand. You stare at it in wonder for a moment before turning back to your boyfriend- no- fiancé and kissing him with all of the overflowing love you feel for him in that moment. “I can’t wait to start a family with you,” Keigo confesses and it makes your heart swell up even more. “Me neither. Let’s hurry up and get back home. I’ve got a wedding to plan,” you smile. “Sounds perfect,” Keigo grins back.

For a long time you thought you were destined for just a good enough ending with a man you didn’t really love. Now you’re staring into the eyes of the love of your life, standing on the cusp of your very own happily ever after.

You’ve never been so glad to be wrong in your life.

Author’s Note: I said a happy ending and I meant it! It made me very happy to write this chapter because Hawks and (y/n), but especially (y/n), have been through so much, it’s great to write them finally happy. This fic was a bit of a monster of an endeavor because of the music element and the themes it was going to have to cover and it’s such a different vibe than Official Accounts that I didn’t know how well it would do on my blog. I am so so happy that it’s received so much love and I’m grateful for all of you that stuck with it. Hopefully I’ll see you on my next fic ❤️

Taglist [closed]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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bangtanloverboys · 4 years ago

Text

days in the sun // jhs

summary - it's a gloomy day for hoseok, and all he can think of is you: his light

pairing - vampire!hoseok x female!reader

genre - angst; vampire au, slight historical au

word count - 2k

warning - vampire yoongi makes a quick appearance, blood drinking, death, this is just sad

author’s note - would like to acknowledge that, yes. i know the title is a song from disney's "beauty and the beast" (2017). italics equal flashbacks

Closing his book, Hoseok glanced to the time. 6:37 am. It was barely morning, setting his book off to the side, he folded his arms behind his head. He hadn’t slept at all last night. Granted sleep for him was unnecessary but he was restless this particular night. Because of the date. It was the anniversary. It was another painful year without you. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. He could still picture how your hair fell, framing your face beautifully. He could still perfectly remember your smile, how he’d do anything to see it. You were so beautiful.

“Hoseok!! Where are you taking me!” He had you in tow as you shrieked in excitement.

“Almost there!” He laughed as he pulled you a little further into the gardens of your family’s estate. He knew he shouldn’t be seeing you without a proper chaperone, but he wanted to see you.

Your hand in his, he pulled you past the low hanging branches of a tree. “Seokie!” You giggled as he came to a stop. Ever so gently, he spun you around until your back met the trunk of the tree, your dress catching on the rough bark. “What are we doing here?”

For a moment, Hoseok didn’t say anything; he just looked at you, taking in your beauty. He merely placed a hand on your cheek, the warmth of the sun peeking through the tree caressing your skin. “I missed you, darling.” He confessed as he stared into your eyes.

You close your eyes and lean into his touch. “I missed you too.”

Sucking in a breath, he sat up. He couldn’t reminisce the day away, not when he had things to do. He pulled back the curtains of his apartment window, greeted with grey skies. A gloomy day. With a tight smile pulling on his lips, he sighed. “Perfect.”

Hoseok got changed out of the clothes from yesterday, wanting to look his best today. He chucked his old clothes into a basket, finding a fresh shirt and slacks. He fixed his appearance up, making sure that not a hair was out of place. Finishing up tying his shoes, he tucked his umbrella into his pocket and headed out the door.

The streets were busy this morning, people wanting to get to work before the rain kicked in. Per his usual routine, he ducked into a coffee shop a few blocks away from his apartment building. The smell of fresh coffee filling his senses as he moved to stand in line. As the wait droned on, Hoseok found his eyes being drawn towards a couple, hidden away in the corner of the cafe, laughing to themselves as they shared their breakfast.

“Miss L/N, Mister Jung has arrived.” The butler announced as Hoseok stepped up to the gazebo; there you sat on the opposite side of the small table, dabbing your face with a napkin, riding your face of any cream or crumb that might’ve resided on your lip.

“Mr. Jung,” you smiled at him as he took his seat across from you.

“Couldn’t wait for me, I’m assuming.” He chortled, noting the small eaten croissant that was on your plate. “Apologies, if I kept you waiting.”

Your face flushed from embarrassment as you looked down to your lap, “No, I’m sorry. I should’ve waited until you arrived.”

“Well, I’m here now, Miss L/N.” He started, taking his own napkin and laying it across his lap. “Shall we begin?”

“Sir, next in line please.” Hoseok was pulled from his thoughts as he saw that he was next in line, being called by the barista.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled as he asked for his usual order, leaving a slightly larger tip to apologize for holding up the line. Drink in hand, he walked back out onto the streets beneath the gloomy sky.

Hoseok kept walking down the street, taking the occasional sip of his coffee; the drink warming his eternally cool body. The drink did little to nothing to his energy nor his taste buds, all it did was warm him from the inside out. Not necessarily a bad thing, but today of all days it hurt a bit more than usual. He missed it’s taste, but all the liquid could do for him was remind him of the permanent ice that rested deep in his soul.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a spot of color amongst the gay that loomed over all the city. Turning his head, he recognized the small building as a flower shop, hidden between two larger buildings. Crossing the street, he made his way over to the bouquets that lined the front of the store.

It was a warm spring day, the two of you were in a field of flowers, far from either of your homes or any sort of supervision. Hoseok had his head laid down on your lap, listening to you talk about flowers. Some of the information he was able process, but truthfully he was completely enthralled with you. The way the sun was perfectly behind your head, illuminating a halo around you as you looked down at him.

“Seokie! Are you even listening to me?” You teased him, noticing he wasn’t paying attention to your words as you explained the meaning of another flower.

“Do you promise not to be mad at me if I say no?” He bit back a laugh as you gasped, playfully smacking him on his chest. “Forgive me! I promise to listen now!”

“Mm, you better.” You stuck your tongue down at him as you picked a flower within your arms reach. “What kind of flower is this?” Holding the small blossom in front of his eyes.

He squinted up at it, recognizing the white and yellow of the plant. “It’s a daisy.”

“Mmhmm,” you affirmed as you ran your free hands fingers through his dark locks, warmed by the sun. “Do you know what it means?”

“What?”

A tender smile is on your lips as you brush some of his hair behind his ear, placing the small flower there. “To most the meaning is innocence, but for you; Hope.”

“Oh, and why is that, my love?” A smile of his own slowly growing as he looked up at you.

“Because you give me hope,” you began as you let your hand rest upon his chest, tracing designs along the crisp white cloth. “You’re my hope.”

Hoseok opened the door of the flower shop, “Excuse me, do you happen to take custom orders?” With a nod of her head, the shop owner asked what he wanted.

A few minutes later he walked out with a blooming white bouquet; the shop owner saying that a pure daisy bouquet wasn’t the right approach for visiting a loved one, believing his reasoning behind the flowers. White hyacinths, for loveliness. Because that’s still what you were to him, lovely; and yarrow, everlasting love. Ironic in his case, he does have love for you everlasting. One he doesn’t quite think he’ll ever forget.

It starts to rain as he approaches his destination, the cemetery. He doesn’t move to open his umbrella just yet. He stands at the threshold for a moment, letting the icy rain fall over him. He places a hand on the stone pillar that marks the entrance. It feels too much like that night.

Everything burned, Hoseok let out a garbled scream as pain seared through his veins. The cause of all this pain? The man who he thought was his friend, the one he was considering to be his best man when he finally asked for your hand in marriage; Min Yoongi.

He should’ve known this creature was not his friend, not the one he knew at least. He knew Yoongi was always a reserved man, but the past few weeks he should’ve suspected something was wrong when he received an invitation to his house well past midnight after not hearing from him at all. But yet this is where he was, writhing in pain beneath his friend, whose sunken his teeth deep into the flesh of Hoseok’s neck; gulping down his blood.

When Yoongi finally released his grip on him, they both fell onto the floor, panting heavily; albeit for different reasons. Tears burned down his cheeks as Hoseok cried, he didn’t quite fully understand what had happened. He was scared, confused, and in pain. But all that came out from what had happened was tears.

His hand moved from the stone to his neck, grazing over the site of where the bite mark once was. It’s healed over the century, not even a scar to even prove that it happened. But he knows it happened, he wouldn’t be here if it didn’t.

Hand gripping the flowers, he stepped into the cemetery. He followed along the pathway, watching as the headstones got older, more moss covered and less visited. Then he saw it, taking a deep breath, he started towards the headstone. Your headstone.

He knelt down in front of it, re-reading the inscription for what feels like the millionth time: ‘Y/N L/N, Beloved Daughter, 1851-1869, Aged 18’. Reading those words over and over again felt like an arrow puncturing his heart. You should’ve lived longer, you deserved a long happy and wonderful life with or without him. But you didn’t.

And it was his fault.

“Hoseok, you’re scaring me.” You trembled as he stuttered towards you. He doesn’t remember getting to your house, he doesn’t remember how he got into your room. But soon as he set his sights on you, he began circling you, like a wild animal hunting its prey.

“So. . . hungry. . .” The sound of your heart racing was roaring in his ears. He drank you in from bottom to top, licking his lips as his eyes landed on your neck. You looked so delicious, he had to have you. He needed to have you. Lunging forward, he tackled you to the floor in a loud thud. Someone should’ve heard that, he needed to be quick. Just a bite. Only a bite.

He let his tongue run over the expanse of your skin, his mouth was watering over the barest taste of you. With a growl, he sank his teeth into you, piercing your skin. Quickly, he began to lap up the blood that seeped from your fresh wound, all while you squirmed and cried, begging for him to stop, to get off you. But he didn’t listen, soon as he had a taste of you, his laps became gulps. Hoseok drank from you until you ceased moving, but not even that stopped him.

He kept going and going and going until his thirst was finally quenched. But by then the damage was too late. He remembers looking down at your blank face, your eyes still open looking up at him. The image made him sick.

“Y/N? Are you alright in there?” A voice called as it knocked on the door. Covering his mouth, he scrambled back to his feet. His eyes never left yours as he walked backwards towards the window.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he placed the flowers at the base of your headstone. With the rain coming down so quickly, he was no longer sure if he was crying or not, the rain mixing with his tears. He was damned for life, not only for what he was, but for what he had done. He should’ve never gone to you in the state he was in. He should’ve packed up his bags and left town; you wouldn’t have ever been able to see him again, but at least you would’ve been able to live.

The image of your lifeless body still haunted his every waking moment, he tried not to think of you as that still form. But to remember you as you were, beautiful and warm. You were his sun. His light. His love.

Hoseok opened his eyes to stare blankly at the gravestone. Without thinking, he pressed a kiss to the rough edge of the marble headstone. Standing, he unfurled his umbrella, finally stopping the rain from soaking him any further. He took one last good look at the headstone, then walked away.

#btsghostie #thehouseofbangtan #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader #hobi x reader #jhope x reader #bts x reader #bts vampire au #vampire jung hoseok #vampire min yoongi #bts angst #bts fanficiton #jung hoseok angst #jung hoseok fanfiction #bts #jung hoseok #min yoongi #bts x reader vampire

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thelittlestcheshire · 3 years ago

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Self Para 008: I Don’t Pretend to Know the Challenges You’re Facing Word Count: 2024 words When: July 2020, in the early hours of July 19th during Ches’s birthday trip Note: I decided I’m going to queue up and post one of the old self paras I never posted, Feel free to skip it, since it’s a past event and stuff. TWs: Rape (mentioned / discussed), Anxiety Attacks, Alcoholism / Drinking, Hangovers, Vomitting, Death, suicide (not exactly but there’s a definite apathy towards the idea of death this as well so better safe than sorry), murder (her mother)

There was a loud thud as a purse landed on the suite’s floor as Ches stumbled through the front door. She knew she shouldn’t have gone to galaxy edge before closing for drinks, but she was desperate to feel good. Yet, no matter how much she drank today, she didn’t feel the happiness that tended to run through her veins. She felt worse and worse. Even the sight of the balloons in the living room from Emmett and his girlfriend didn’t bring any sort of joy.

It was her fault her mother died; she should have been here instead of Ches. And the more gifts she received, the more she thought back to why her mother was dead. If she hadn’t gone to get gifts for Jonah... it felt like the room was spinning as the thought came back. Wait, no, the room was definitely spinning.

“Hey Ches, sorry I needed to- fuck.” Zander had just come out from the living room, likely taking her up on his offer to hide, but his attempt to avoid people is forgotten by the time he reaches her. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” There were two of him by the time he wraps an arm around her to support her. “It’s been a long night.” He starts to lead her to her bedroom, and it’s hard to keep her feet under her as they walk. But he saves her from crashing to the floor and manages to get her on the bed.

“It wasn’t a night.” She slurs at him as she rests her head against her pillow. “Sky and I, you know. Club 33.” She knew the look on his faces even through the intoxicated haze. She knew he wasn’t happy about this. “I’m okay.” She informs him, starting to sit up. The room begins to move again, and for a moment, she feels like she might just be sick. She moves quickly, barely making it to the toilet before she vomits. Zander quickly behind her to hold back her hair. “See, fine.” She gets out weakly as she flushes the toilet.

“Definitely not fine.” He disagrees as he smooths out her hair. “I’m staying with you tonight, at least until you feel better.” It’s obvious she had no say in the matter, and she doesn’t waste the energy to protest. She slowly gets up, nearly falling face-first as she attempts to reach the bathroom sink to brush her teeth. He’s there in an instant to keep her from tumbling. Perhaps he had a point. She accepts the assistance as she brushes her teeth and doesn’t fight him as he leads her back to the bed and messes with all her pillows to ensure she’s propped up on her side.

“I hate you.”

The words just slip off her tongue. Not how she genuinely felt in the slightest. Zander doesn’t seem to take offense. However, he just runs his fingers through her hair. “I know, I know. I’m the worst. Time for you to sleep.” He whispers back to her. She frowns, but she shuts her eyes, anyway. She’s not sure how long it takes: perhaps it’s minutes, maybe it was hours, but eventually she falls asleep.

—

Opening her eyes felt like literally crawling out of a grave when she finally does wake up, the only light shining was from a phone beside her. “Turn that damn thing off. It hurts,” Ches grumbles, the man beside her laying on top of her blankets complies. “What time is it anyway?”

“4 am, give or take.”

Zander’s answer only causes her to groan as she fixes her pillows the way she likes them. “Shit. No wonder I feel like I was run over by a freight train.” She continues to adjust her pillows, settling into a comfortable spot as she rolls over onto her back.

“No, I think that’s thanks to Club 33.” Zander gives her a pointed look. How did he even know she’d gone drinking there? That she had a membership at all for that matter. “I could pay for the entirety of my college tuition with how much you’ve spent on this trip. Couldn’t I?” There was something about his tone that feels off, that despite his words, it wasn’t the Disneyland trip he was frustrated with at the moment. “You’re spiraling again. The fancy trip, the mass text about Leo, the drinking. Fuck, everything that’s occurred since you came back to Luxor. Spring break, prom, open house. What’s going on?” Of course, he’d notice things weren’t right. Her luck couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“It’s the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death.” The excuse slides off her tongue quickly. But even in the dark, she could make out the look on his face. He knew she was lying, and yet she didn’t change her tune. She couldn’t. After what happened with Lucy, she wasn’t going to tell anyone about that ever again. “Zander, that’s all there is to everything. Drop it.”

He opens his mouth as if he had something to say, but he quickly shuts up. After a few seconds where it looks like he’s not going to push, she takes a breath. But her relief is short-lived when he finally speaks. “Has anyone ever mentioned you crinkle your nose when you lie?”

“I do not!” She protests immediately. Did she really have such an obvious tell? “I’m not lying. That’s really all there is to it. Please.” The word sounds like a plea, and as she hears it, she can’t help but dread him picking up on it. She didn’t need to give him more to question when he was already treading into territory she couldn’t stand to think about. How could she discuss it again? She barely got through it with Lucy.

“Okay, I just have one more question then. Why is your father spending so much money on you lately? Taking the entire school to Disneyland, a suite just for you to hide in, him showing up to graduation. Your Club 33 membership cost could be a household’s entire annual salary, There has to be a reason he’s tossing money at you so aggressively.”

The question causes her blood to run cold. What was she supposed to say? That his father suddenly saw the error of his ways became invested in her life. The lie didn’t even seem plausible, let alone believable. The entire truth hurt too much to think about; she didn’t want to get into the reasons. The best she could offer was the truth, without any details. “He feels guilty.”

“About your mom?” Zander’s voice is so soft, and as the slight hint of guilt starts to leak into it, she can feel her heart starting to break. He was too good to her, too safe, and he doesn’t even hesitate as she moves closer to him on the bed and tries to crawl into his arms. As she starts to sob, he just accepts that right now she needed someone to hold her. “I’m sorry, Chessie. I-”

“It’s not about maman, Zan. When I was home I had to attend his dinner parties, and his VP, he-” She can’t even finish getting the words out as she starts to sob, as the panic sets in and she clings tighter to him. The thought of that evening made her wish she could carve off her skin as if it’d erase the memories of that night from her mind. The more she remembers, the harder it feels to gasp for air, and the faster she breathes as her eyes rapidly search for the nearest escape route.

“Ches, hey. It’s okay, you’re okay.” His voice is gentle as he starts stroking her hair again. For a moment, she goes completely still as she tries to remind herself this was Zander. “You’re safe, I promise. Nobody’s going to hurt you here.” She focuses on the sound of his voice as he tries to comfort her, and slowly, but surely, oxygen is easier to catch. The fear was still lingering; the urge to flee and never look back was overwhelming. “You don’t have to say anything, okay.”

“Look where not saying anything got me, Zander.” She snaps at him, the words just coming out suddenly. “He fucking raped me, and I have to- no, I’m expected to just stay quiet and move past it. Sometimes I’m not sure if the money is because my dad is upset it happened or to keep my mouth shut. You know, he was the one who made me drop the charges.” She still could remember that talk with her father. She could shut her eyes and picture it as if it was five minutes ago still, her father pacing around the living room in their penthouse looking almost as disheveled as he had at her mother’s funeral, practically begging her to let him handle this behind closed doors because he didn’t think she’d survive a trial. “Said he thought I’d kill myself if we went to trials, he handled it behind the scenes.”

“It’s out of love, either way, I think,” Zander says gently as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to speak at all. Honestly, Ches isn’t sure she wants him to talk either. The last time she’d discussed it, she hadn’t felt any better. In ways, she felt worse - guilty for burdening Lucy with something so heavy she couldn’t explain to anyone else.

“I know.”

The words are hard for her to get out, even if it’s the truth. She knew that her father loved her, even when it sometimes felt like he didn’t care nearly enough. Perhaps, in its own fucked up way, this was his way of showing he cared. Her father’s actions weren’t out of ill intent.

“I’m sorry that you’re going through this, you had a horrible year.” He wasn’t wrong about that, the more she thought about it, the more she realized seventeen had truly sucked. “But, you can’t destroy yourself in your attempts to cope. I can’t figure out how you got back without hurting yourself. That’s an issue.”

“It’s not a deal-breaker.” As Ches continues to calm down slowly, the realization she’s trembling begins to dawn on her. “I don’t care if I die, you know.”

“Well I do. Lucy and Avery do, and Elliot would be devastated, so that’s not an option, for starters. So this shit needs to stop.” Zander’s voice is firm, almost like when Logan had no other choice but to scold them. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but this isn’t the answer, Hailey.”

For a brief moment, she considers saying something about her first name, but she doesn’t. She was too drained to fight with him over it. The use could be tolerated for one night. “You can’t tell anyone, Zander. The only person who knows is Lucy.” She says instead as she pulls herself out of his arms to lay in bed again.

“And your therapist?”

“Doesn’t know anything either.” She shuts her eyes as she says the word. Of course, she didn’t go to her therapist about this; it felt too painful to revisit, too heavy to bring words to at times. “Just promise me, Zander.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She can feel him moving on the bed beside her to start to get up as he says the words, her arm quickly reaching out to stop him. “But, I think you need to talk to your therapist. And-”

“Okay.” She agrees. “But, can you stay? I don’t want- I can’t be alone right now. Please?” The boy stops trying to move at her confession, the admittance she needed someone there. “I think being alone is a bad idea, and I don’t think I can ask Elli to-”

“I’ll stay, as long you need me to.”

She doesn’t say anything as she moves her arm back to her side of the bed. For a moment, she wonders if he’ll question it, but soon the only noise is the sound of his phone unlocking as the two settle into a comfortable silence.

#you know i adore queue #all of my heroes died all alone ( musings )#a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you ( self paras )#events ( ches's birthday 2020 )#rape tw #vomiting tw #vomit tw #anxiety tw #anxiety attack tw #alcoholism tw #alcohol tw #drinking tw #all you cool people better leave now 'cause it's about to happen ( balo | zander )#death tw #suicide tw #murder tw

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