#this is completely unedited forgive me but!! finally it's done thank god

[fissions-chips]

fresh air

('bad karma' AU pt 6- tw for mild violence and blood, and implied abuse/violence)

   The fluorescent lights of the department store were harsh and gleaming, reflecting upon every pale surface with a sickly, too-white light- Jon narrowed his eyes against it, reaching up to scrub at them with the heel of one palm as he stood, waiting. In a way, they reminded him of home.

   It was late. Late enough that the light outside had been swallowed up by the shadows of the city buildings, and all Jon wanted to do was go back to sleep. 

   Five days- that was all it had taken for Butler to go stir-crazy, unable to stay inside the dojo any longer- that, at least, was a feeling Jon could understand. It was too small and too sparse a space to be trapped in, with nothing to do but sleep, or train, in Butler’s case, though Jon had yet to see him do so. Given the chance to stretch his legs by accompanying the bodyguard on a list of errands, the man should have felt relief, or excitement- instead, he only found himself miserable. 

   He was only here because Butler didn’t trust him enough to stay locked up in the dojo, and knew that, if he had tied the man hand and foot to leave him behind, Jon would have broken his own fingers trying to get loose. He’d tied his hands on the way here anyways, Jon forced into the back of the car and struggling to stay upright against sharp turns and the occasional pothole, but the bindings had quickly been cut when they’d arrived in Dublin, replaced by a hand curling around his good wrist in warning, as the bodyguard had told him, firmly, not to do anything stupid.

   Looking down at his wrists, one still bruised and throbbing, wrapped in clumsy bandaging, Jon felt his lip curl unbidden. There was a tearing sensation, every time it moved- he hadn’t known how to bind it so that it would heal. A patchwork job done by shaking fingers… how attempts to mend his own injuries usually went. It wasn’t the first time. 

   Won’t be the last, either.

   Jon was surprised that they were even here, in all truth- the Fowls even had their own wormery, whatever the hell that meant. Butler didn’t seem the ‘department store’ type. Then again, he supposed that even the bodyguard could reason that there was only so ‘high-end’ one could find a toothbrush, or a comb. Small, basic shit. Dragging a hand through his hair, Jon was grateful he’d have one, now- it had thinned somewhat in the past few months, and Jon swore it hadn’t used to be this brittle, but at least he would be able to tidy it up. 

   His facial hair had been cleaned up now, too. He’d been allowed to shave properly under the bodyguard’s supervision- when it was decided they would be going out for the day, Butler had waited so that Jon could arrange himself into something approaching presentable. The blue tracksuit he was wearing fit him far better than the bodyguard’s clothing had, apparently stolen from the patriarch of the Fowl family, a man of slimmer build than Butler himself. It still hung loose on his sides and at his shoulders, but it was comfortably warm, and it hid the worst of Jon’s condition from the rest of the world.

   Butler moved methodically between the isles, grabbing the things he had hurriedly jotted down this morning, items that would make the dojo a little more manageable. Food that Jon could make on his own, mostly- and, notably, his own first aid kit. 

   Something about that stung, slightly- it had been nice to have someone else patch up his wounds, wipe the blood from his face. As hazy as his memory had been at the time, the bodyguard had been gentle when he had first checked him over. Jon wasn’t used to that. 

   Then, his wrist twinged, and Jon pushed it to the back of his mind, bitterness rising in the back of his throat. 

   He distracted himself by meandering around, aimless, careful to keep within sight of the other- pulling cans off of shelves to read the back of them, flipping through magazines as he passed by. He hummed along to the music playing over the speakers, though he couldn’t quite make out the words, too deep in his own thoughts at the moment to follow along. He considered glancing at the books for a moment as they passed. He wasn’t much of a reader anymore, but it would be nice to have something to do in the dojo.

   Suddenly, a hand clamped around his shoulder.

   “-on!” 

   Butler’s voice was sharp in his ear, tinged with frustration- Jon flinched away, free hand clawing at the man’s own as he stifled a yelp between his teeth.

   “Keep up,” The bodyguard muttered, dragging him along. “I don’t know if that man has sent anyone after you, so don’t wander off.” 

   Oh. Bristling, Jon broke away from the other man, letting Butler fall in front of him once again. It was the most the bodyguard had said to him since the incident with the knife- ever since Jon had cut him, the man had been stony and near-silent with him, only speaking to Jon when absolutely necessary and interacting with him as little as possible. He kept to the main room while Jon hid away in the bedroom, sleeping on the couch- whenever Jon opened the door, to grab something from the kitchen or simply see if he was awake, the man was met with a sharp glare and a deepening frown. 

   He hated it. Jon hated it. Now, when the bodyguard said his name, he couldn’t help but imagine it spat like a curse, Butler’s eyes closed off and cold. He couldn’t blame him, not really- it was hard for anyone to look a man in the face who had hurt them, once, twice. Jon knew that well enough. But silence was miserable, and suffocating. It offered no distractions, no comfort, and so Jon found his hands roaming, constantly picking and clawing at his own skin in some desperate, unbidden effort to quell his nerves. He'd already split his scarring jaw back open, worn his wrists raw against his bindings in the handful of hours it had taken to drive here. His fingertips stung where he’d bitten his nails down to the beds. 

   Sullenly, he tried to push it from his mind, letting his gaze drop to the ground, catching faint flickers of his reflection in the smudged tile below. His eyes were hollow and tired- he waved his hand at himself in a small, sardonic greeting. 

   A few more minutes found Butler moving to check out- Jon stood some distance behind, head bowed. A small gleam of light caught his eye, and, after quickly glancing ahead to find the bodyguard distracted, walked across the aisle to find himself in front of a stand of jewelry. Cheap things, compared to what he’d used to wear, but Jon felt his stomach drop all the same, slowly reaching out to pluck a bracelet off the rack and spin it in his fingers. The metal was cold, and glittering, and golden- his vision blurred slightly as he stared down at it, his eyes stinging. 

   God, he missed his jewelry. He missed his jewelry so badly it ached. It had all been stolen away from him, when he’d first been captured- Jon still didn’t know what had happened to it. They’d had to wrestle him to the ground to pull it off of him, Jon breaking more than a few guard’s fingers and teeth on the way down. All of his bracelets, his rings, his necklaces… sold now, most likely, or passed around Valentine’s circle of friends as little gifts. Maybe the other CEO was wearing some right now, wherever he was. Jon’s face fell at the memory of the other man, sneering, grinding his boot into the back of Jon’s head as he’d pocketed the metal. 

   These will look far better on me than you, you ugly fuck~ jewelry can only do so much for one’s appearance.

   Staring down at himself now, Jon couldn’t help but agree- dressed in the stolen tracksuit of his enemy’s kin, face dotted with bruising marks and with his wrist clumsily bound in smudged, crooked gauze, he could hardly recognize himself. Slipping the bracelet onto his own wrist couldn’t help with the state he was in, or where he was trapped, but it made him feel slightly more like himself, for the first time since he had woken up on the floor of Butler’s bedroom. Spinning it slightly around his arm, Jon’s expression softened as he stared down at the golden metal, tracing the etching along its outer edge with his thumb. Beautiful, even under the dingy white lights-

   “Jon!” 

   He stiffened, head snapping up to find Butler glaring at him, gesturing sharply for Jon to join him. He was currently preoccupied, it seemed, with someone else- Butler was pointing to something on a different screen and talking to a smaller, older woman, seemingly explaining whatever it said. Their own items weren’t even bagged yet.

   For a moment, Jon almost considered dumping the bracelet alongside everything else the bodyguard had gathered- asking, even, if he could get it. Now that it was on his wrist, Jon couldn’t bear the thought of leaving without it, without the smallest semblance of his former finery. His free hand continued to trace the grooves of it, spinning it around his wrist, curling protectively over the metal when he saw the way Butler’s eyes narrowed as the bodyguard glanced over his shoulder, still sharp with frustration. When he saw the jewelry, the man sighed, gesturing again sharply for Jon to join him. 

   Jon’s face fell. What a stupid fuckin’ notion, asking for it, he cursed himself. Unhooking the bracelet from his arm, Jon spun it in his fingers as he watched Butler turn back to the older woman with a small shake of his head, his expression immediately softening as he continued to direct her in how to use the machine. Something bitter bubbled up in the back of Jon’s throat, his good hand clenching in a fist as he looked back down at the bracelet, and then cast a glance behind him. 

   He could move to follow Butler. He could put the bracelet back and wait, quiet and tired, until the bodyguard finished what he was doing, and then he could wait beside the car- for everything to get set in the back, for his own hands to get tied by the wrists so he too could be shoved in the backseat. He could sit in contemptible silence for hours on the long ride back and stare out the window at a country he couldn’t navigate. He could wind up back in the dojo, back in that damn bedroom all by himself, waiting. In silence, for who knew how long, just waiting for something to happen and for Butler to snap again, like he had- 

   Jon lifted a hand, absentmindedly picking at the faint, pale line beneath his throat where the bodyguard’s knife had brushed it. It had healed in the span of a day- it would fade after another. He could have killed me. There had been nothing behind Butler’s eyes in the moment but cold, clear focus- nothing when he had twisted Jon’s wrist to the snapping point, and nothing when he had screamed in his face for the man to drop the knife. The knife he had handed him. It had all happened without warning.

   His lip curled for a moment, there and then gone. That same bitter, roiling feeling filled his chest, familiar, and Jon sank into it, eyes narrowing. I’m too fucking tired for this, he thought. He gave one last look to the bracelet, and another to the bodyguard. 

   Then, without a word, Jon turned on his heel and walked away. 

— — — — — 

   The evening air was colder than he had anticipated, rattling in his lungs as Jon slowly made his way down the sideway, shoulders hunched and eyes cast to the ground- the tracksuit was warm, however, and he was grateful for it. Crossing his arms, his breath fogged in front of his face as he rounded a corner, barely pausing to glance around as he continued on his winding, crazed path through the city streets.

   Jon didn’t know where he was going. All sense of direction had abandoned him completely as of late, and his mind was too scattered to bother reading the street signs as he passed. The names wouldn’t have meant much to him, anyways- he hadn’t been to Dublin before. Looking up for a moment, Jon peered at the buildings looming around him, etched in shadow as the sun continued to set. The streetlights cast a soft, hazy glow across the bricks and mortar, and Jon felt some of the tension ease from his body as he tilted his head. 

   Nice place, he thought. Bet it’s pretty when the sun’s out. 

   Surrounded by city lights and the quiet sounds of downtown, he felt more at home than he had in… who knew how long, actually. Chicago was far busier than the small side roads he had chosen to wander down- the few people sharing the sidewalk paid him little mind as they passed, eyes averted and stepping aside to avoid bumping shoulders. A small part of Jon flinched at that, missing the close-packed, bustling streets of his home- then again, someone looking too closely might risk recognition, and Jon didn’t know what he would do if word got out about his reappearance. 

   Val could find me again. 

   A cold chill ran down his back, colder than the air that fogged his breath, and Jon’s fingers dug into his arms until they ached. Does he think I’m dead? He wondered, unbidden- sudden anxiety pulsed through him. Does the world think I’m dead? How had Valentine explained his disappearance- him fleeing from his crimes, or snatched up and killed by some other enemy? Had the man simply sat back, watching as Jon’s company scrambled to find some easy excuse? 

   He pushed the thought from his mind, forcing himself to focus back on where he was now- whole oceans away, in the backstreets of Ireland. Completely aimless, yes, but already he had walked further and seen more than he’d had the privilege to in weeks, possibly months. Unlit storefronts and the cobblestone street beside him were miles more interesting than a near-empty bedroom, or the cramped coat closet Valentine had kept him locked in. 

   His heart skipped a beat. Don’t think about it.

   It would be completely dark soon- and some small, grounded part of him knew that, no doubt, Butler was already on his way to find him. Tracking him down like a bloodhound. Jon turned his head and cast a quick glance around him, finding nothing of note- he looked forward once again, free hand fiddling with the bracelet still wrapped around his wrist. Stolen, now, but Jon couldn’t have cared less. 

   He had left out the back. It might have been mere moments before Butler himself had followed, already on his trail. Or maybe the bodyguard had assumed that Jon would follow, not noticing the lack of his presence until he reached the car. Either way, he wouldn’t stop until he had hunted Jon down- of that the man was certain. Regardless of whatever self-imposed risk Butler felt it might cause to let Jon roam, he was a professional, and professionals didn’t let their targets go so easily. 

   Pausing for a moment beneath the warm glow of a streetlight, Jon lifted his hands to his face and tried to warm them, his fingers trembling. The cold was starting to bleed through the warmth of the tracksuit as the sun vanished beneath the horizon, and with it came a quiet, creeping unease. There weren’t any people out now, it seemed- the street was empty around him, and the sudden silence and stillness sent a spike of anxiety stabbing through him. 

   “Fuck,” he muttered. “M’ lost.”

   A strangled little laugh slipped from his throat as Jon pressed his back against the metal pole. Can’t be lost if you’ve got nowhere to go, some small part of him crowed. Fucking hell. What’s gonna happen when that bastard catches up to me? 

   His injured wrist twinged, and Jon tucked it to his chest. Bet he’ll break the other one, that same little voice sang in the back of his mind, half-hysterical. Bet he’ll break your fingers too, like Marcus.

   “He… no. Probably not.” Jon muttered to himself, wringing his hands together as he looked around warily, trying to swallow back his nerves. It was a pointless effort- he could feel nausea beginning to claw its way up the back of his throat, his heartbeat hammering in his chest. “He’s professional, professionals don’t…” He stopped himself. 

   It was the professional in Butler that had caused him to nearly snap Jon’s wrist- the training of the ‘Blue Diamond’ clear in his immediate reaction and the way he had effortlessly disarmed him, ready to slit his throat at a moment’s notice. And that was over a slashed hand, an accident. What was going to happen the next time Jon slipped up? 

   Something worse. 

   Jon paused as he felt a sudden, sharp sting beneath his jaw- drawing his hand back, he found rust-red gathering beneath his nails. He’d picked his wound open again. Looking down at the blood now dusting his fingers, sickness stirred in his gut. 

   At least he’s not Val, Jon reminded himself. He jammed his hands into his pockets, forcing himself to keep walking, eyes fixed on the next pool of light the streetlights provided. He’s not Val- he doesn’t want to hurt me... I don’t think he wants to hurt me. He swallowed thickly. 

   I wouldn’t blame him if he did. Business was business, and Jon had once had him shot dead. Any other criminal would have jumped at the opportunity to beat him bloody- or worse, make a mockery of him like Valentine had. A pet. 

   Memories flashed into his mind, of the other CEO’s voice growing cold and furious as he’d spilled wine over his head, as he’d kicked him in the stomach, as he dragged him around by his hair and forced him onto his hands and knees. That damned shallow smile- still, his hands in his hair had been the closest thing Jon had always had to someone else, even as Valentine had loathed the thought. That was how it had always been. Things had been better between them once, yes, but that’s what the man had always boiled down to. The best substitute Jon could find for humanity in a world that made creatures of men.

   And now. Now there was Butler. His hands had been kinder. Jon began to bristle as a whirlwind of some unreadable, uncomfortable emotion bubbled up in his body. Fuck. 

   Butler’s hands had been gentle. Even as Jon had kicked and snapped at him, blind with fear and blind with fury alike. Jon hadn’t had anyone to treat his wounds like that, anyone to wash his hair or make him good food, for as far back as he could remember. Butler had bought things for him to make his stay easier, even though he was a hostage- a hostage who had done him harm, no less. What was Jon supposed to do with that? 

   He dug his nails into the joint of his wrist, biting back a hiss as he tried to focus on the ache of it, reminding himself of the bodyguard’s cold eyes as he’d stared down at him. “Not again.” He hissed beneath his breath. Not again, you stupid fuck. What you’re going to do is go. As soon as you can, as far as you can. It won’t just be your wrist, next time- you know that. It’ll be your neck.

   At some point, the bodyguard’s good grace was going to run out. It had to. The knife in the kitchen was just the start.

   All things considered… a snapped neck is more than I can usually hope for.

   Jon paused again at a streetlight, letting his head fall back against the metal. At this point, he was likely walking in circles- the chill had long since seeped into his bones, and his feet were numb. His head pounded in time with the racing of his heart, the world blurring slightly before him as sudden frustration beat a drumbeat tattoo in the back of his mind. Frustration at what, he wasn’t quite sure- his situation, Butler, and himself, perhaps, all coiling together in a thick knot in the pit of his stomach. 

   “Fuck it all.” He muttered, voice cracking slightly. He let his head fall into his hands, digging his fingers into his hair and pulling sharply. “Fuck it all!” He shouted- a small, hysterical laugh slipped from his mouth, and he slammed one fist into the side of his head. 

   “There’s nowhere to go! It never fucking stops!” 

   Pushing himself away from the light pole, Jon hugged his arms to his chest and forced himself onwards, turning streets at random, no longer watching where he was going as his shoulders clipped corners and his feet caught on cobblestones. His whole body was shivering now, anxiety and anger mingling on the back of his tongue- his mind was racing too violently to catch, and a small part of him ached to be back in the car again. 

   Jon didn’t notice when the side streets began to widen once again, or when the occasional streetlight became a faint, but constant glow of dim light. The distant sounds of tires on pavement met his ears and passed right through, the man lost in a haze of his own thoughts. Scattered figures occasionally loomed in his vision, and Jon snapped at them, flinching away until they disappeared once again, and he was alone. 

   His foot caught on a lip of concrete, and he staggered- Jon cursed, whirling on his heel and struggling to keep his balance. 

   Sudden, white light filled his vision, and Jon froze as a sharp, blaring sound wailed in his ears. 

   The fu- 

   Something caught him by the back of his shirt and pulled, the man snatched clear off his feet and dragged backwards violently. The wailing and lights raced past, Jon’s head snapping back against the brick as he was pulled into an alleyway and shoved up against the side of a building, hands slamming onto his shoulders to shake him. 

   “-on! Jon!”

   Stern, dark eyes stared back at him. 

   With sense, sight and sound utterly disoriented, something sparked in Jon’s chest, white-hot and screaming- the man snapped his knee upwards and kicked, feeling the weight of the other pull away from him slightly as he bared his teeth and snarled. 

   “Piss off!” 

   The hands digging into his shoulders didn’t let go, but he heard a grunt of pain, and Jon began to thrash, voice going splintery and strained with fury. “Get the fuck offa me, you prick!” 

   “What the fuck was that?” 

   Butler’s sudden shout brought reality crashing into Jon like a bolt of lightning- the man stilled, blinking owlishly as he found the bodyguard glaring down at him, brow furrowed and eyes blazing. 

   “You were standing in the middle of the street- did you not see that truck? Spiro, what the hell has gotten into you?“ 

   His words were suddenly cut off by another grunt as Jon kicked him again, right in the shin. “I didn’t see it, asshole! Get off of me before I kick you in the-“

   “Jon-“ 

   “No,” Jon hissed, teeth snapping in the other man’s face as he struggled violently beneath him, voice cracking sharply. “Get off of me, you stupid fuck, or I swear to god I will slit you up the middle the second I get the fucking chance! Get off-“ 

   “Calm down,” Butler gritted out as Jon’s fist caught him sharply in the ribs. “Before you wake up the entire city. Why did you run off?“ 

   Panting for breath, Jon tried to slam his head into the other’s nose- Butler leaned back just in time, grabbing him by his good wrist and shaking him again. His voice grated in Jon’s ears, the man completely rattled and shaken by the memory of the near-collision- his heart pounded so loudly in his skull that he could hardly hear the bodyguard speak. 

   “It’s past midnight. We need to get back to the-“ 

   “NO!” 

   Jon’s fist caught him right in the scarring tissue above his heart as his eyes glittered madly.  “If you think-“ He shouted, shaking beneath Butler’s hands. “That I’m gonna go back to that goddamn house and that goddamn room, just so I can sit and stew in how badly you wanna kill me-“ 

   He paused for breath, letting his head fall back into the wall. “Then you are a bigger fuckin’ idiot than I thought.“ 

   Butler stared back at him, dumbfounded. “W…what?” He muttered, eyes wide and bewildered by the sudden display of rage.

   For some reason, his confusion only sparked more fury in Jon’s chest, and the man sneered, voice dripping with venom. “So you can just- you can snap my neck right now, or get the fuck off of me.” He faltered, slightly- something briefly flickered over Jon’s face, face falling slightly as he hissed in the other man’s face. “Or just… just go on and fuckin’ hit me-“ 

   “Hit you?” Butler mumbled. Then, his brow furrowed. “Jon, I’m not going to hit you. I just pulled you out of the road!”

   “Oh, but that’s what big, dumb fucks like you like to do, right?” Jon hissed nastily, bared teeth gleaming in the faint light from the road. “Hit. And hit, and hit, and hit-“

   He threw his head back, his voice rising to a sharp, hysterical shout. 

   “Go on! Get it out of your system! I’m right here, asshole, so take your swing! Make it hurt!” 

   At the last word, he aimed another kick at Butler’s abdomen- the next thing Jon knew, his back was on the ground as the bodyguard loomed over him, both arms pinned to the cold stone beneath. His injured wrist throbbed, and Jon tried to wrench it away, only to earn a knee slammed into his chest for his trouble. 

   “Jon. Calm down,” the bodyguard repeated. He waited until the man had ceased struggling beneath him before he continued. “I’m not going to hit you, for fuck’s sake. Take a moment and breathe-“

   “You broke my wrist easily enough.“ 

   “It’s a sprain!” Butler snapped, unable to bite back his exasperation any longer. “You tried to stab me, I was disarming you! What else was I supposed to do?” 

   Jon let out another mocking laugh as his fury began to ebb alongside his burst of energy, dissolving into the same sick bitterness as before. “Stab you? Stab you? You asshole, you handed the knife to me!” 

   Butler paused. 

   “Why the hell would I stab you?” Jon spat, beginning to struggle slightly once again as his injured wrist spasmed. “Do I look like an idiot? What the hell would that have even done? You were making me dinner- next thing I know I’m on the ground with a bloody giant screaming at me! What the hell was I supposed to do, wait for you to kill me? You didn’t even ask for it back first!”

   His eyes narrowed. “Things were almost okay for a bit there. Now, it’s the fuckin’ silent treatment, and you glaring at me like you just can’t wait till you can put a bullet between my eyes. Do me a favor, eh? Get it over with. I’m sick of this shit.”  

   Jon let his head fall back, then, closing his eyes. Exhaustion still dragged at him- he took a deep breath, let it out slowly through his nose, waiting for the bodyguard to move. He didn’t, for several moments- when the man opened his eyes, he found Butler staring down at him, his expression unreadable. 

   After another moment, he spoke. 

   “Jon, I’m going to say this again. I’m not going to hit you. I’m not going to shoot you. I don’t know how many more times I can tell you.” Shifting back, he released the smaller man and stepped back, one hand lifting to press at the space between his eyes. “It’d be a waste, at this point. Your wrist was an accident- I thought you were going to stab me. Can you actually blame me for that, given everything?” 

   Jon glanced away- his silence was answer enough. 

   “My training- that’s how it is. For what it’s worth, I could have actually snapped it. In any other circumstance, I would have. I didn’t. I’m not going to make the mistake of handing you a knife again- and you cut my hand open. It’s still split, by the way, so we’re even.” 

   Nonetheless, Butler’s eyes flicked to his wounded wrist with something almost like guilt on his face as his grip loosened slightly, only for the bodyguard to double-take as he caught sight of the gold bracelet, still wrapped around Jon’s wrist and glittering faintly. He blinked, shocked, before reaching out automatically as if to take it-

   “Wait- did you… did you shoplift-“ 

   “Don’t.”  

   Jon’s voice, suddenly shrill with panic, caused the man to pause- he glanced across to find Jon with eyes wide, fixed on that golden bracelet as he tucked his arm against his chest. “D-don’t- don’t you fucking take it I swear to god-“ Jon’s mouth snapped shut as his face fell. 

   Shoplifted. Holy shit. Common, petty crime- Jon didn’t care about the fact he had stolen it, not really, but the fact that he, Jon Spiro, once-feared CEO and mob man, had stolen a cheap little bracelet hit him like a bat to the stomach. 

   “…Please, don’t.” He spoke, after a long moment. “Break something, or… I don’t know, I don’t know what you’ll do, just please don’t take the bracelet. Val took every piece I had.” 

   Butler’s brow furrowed. “…Okay.” He muttered, after a long moment. “Okay.” 

   Jon could see gears turning in his mind, something sad behind his eyes- his mouth opened slightly, as if to speak, only to close again as he decided against it. Instead, he offered his hand. 

   Jon didn’t take it for several seconds- instead, he heaved himself half-upright and paused, staring at the ground. He didn’t know what to make of Butler anymore- he didn’t trust him, and he sure as hell didn’t want to take his hand. His wrist still throbbed… but the bodyguard had admitted to his error, and Jon’s bracelet was still in his possession. Nothing was broken. He was cold and tired and hungry, and there wasn’t any more point in running. He had nowhere else to go.

   He sighed. Then, he reached up and let the bodyguard pull him to his feet. 

   The walk back to the car was silent- Jon kept his head bowed, hands jammed into his pockets. His breath fogged in front of his face, blurring his view of Butler ahead of him. The bodyguard was visibly lost in thought, and Jon didn’t feel like dragging him out of them. He didn’t feel like much of anything. 

   Thankfully, the car had been moved closer- Jon leaned against the side door as Butler rummaged around in the front seat, turning on the heat and moving bags to the back. When the bodyguard shut the door, Jon closed his eyes and held his wrists out, waiting for them to be tied again. 

   Instead, he found himself steered to the passenger door. “Get in,” Butler muttered, gesturing to the seat. “Don’t do anything stupid. You need to warm up.” 

   The seat warmer, at least, was certainly appreciated. 

   As the bodyguard drove them back in silence, Jon busied himself with rifling through the items Butler had bought. A comb, shaving materials, the first aid kit- the handful of clothing items, all pale in color, was a welcome surprise. Jon found himself brightening slightly, exhausted as he was. It was a dull, hollow sort of contentment, but it was better than the misery of before, and Jon even smiled slightly as he unearthed a mass-market paperback from the bottom of one bag, plucked from the department store shelf. 

   Trashy romance, eh? I didn’t take him for the type. 

   Butler didn’t dignify him with an answer when Jon lifted it in his hand and lifted his brows at him, amused- the slight flush to his face, however, revealed his embarrassment.  

   After an hour or two, Jon found himself half-dozing against the window, the rumbling of the engine too loud to let him nod off completely- suddenly, the bodyguard’s voice startled him out of his stupor, and he jolted upright. 

   “I’ll wrap your wrist when we get back.”

   Jon blinked owlishly at the dark road ahead. “Hmm?” He muttered, biting back a yawn.

   “Your wrist,” Butler repeated, his eyes fixed on the horizon before them. “… I’ll wrap it when we get back. So it’ll heal.” 

   “Oh.” Jon looked down at his hands. “Uh… thanks.” 

   Butler shrugged. 

   “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

[bex-la-get]

Take Care of You (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Natalie Cusack

Special Appearance: Tobias Carrick

Word count: 2175

Summary: When Ethan falls sick, Nat steps in to take care of him.

Rating: T

Author’s Note: Hi, hello. It’s been a crappy week and I’m emotionally/physically exhausted. So here’s some fluff to counter the bad week. This is unedited, so please forgive any mistakes. Hope you like it. 💙

Ethan never got sick. Ever. Despite working in a hospital, surrounded by sick people on a daily basis, Ethan always managed to stay as healthy as possible. He had prided himself on his strong immune system and seemingly inability to fall ill.

Until today, that is. He woke with so much pressure in his sinuses, he thought his head would burst. Getting out of bed was a feat in itself, as his whole body ached. He sniffled as he made his way to the bathroom and nearly jumped at his own reflection: his eyes were puffy, his nose was red, and his posture was significantly slouched. He tried to stand up straight but only groaned as his body protested the movement. Today was going to be long. 

Pushing through, he swallowed a couple of DayQuils with his morning coffee, stuffed some tissues into his pocket, and gave Jenner a pat on the head before sluggishly making his way to work. 

Arriving at the hospital, he noticed the looks of surprise and concern that people gave him as he passed. He didn’t know why; it was just a little cold. It wasn’t like he had grown a second head. He rolled his eyes and continued towards the seventh floor, ignoring everyone he walked past. 

Finally arriving in the Diagnostics Office, he found himself breathing heavier than normal. As he sat at his desk, he attempted to take a deep breath but instead triggered a coughing fit. He grabbed a nearby Kleenex and coughed hard, his body wracking with the movement. He took a deep breath and coughed one last time before his lungs took pity on him and stopped causing him distress. Ethan groaned and dropped his head into his hands. 

“Ethan? You okay, man?” a voice said.

Ethan looked up to find Tobias looking at him with concern. He hadn’t even heard his old friend come in. He nodded and sighed. “Yeah; just a little under the weather today, is all.”

“If you’re not feeling well, you should probably go home,” Tobias suggested. “There’s no point in pushing yourself to further exhaustion.”

Ethan shook his head. “I’m fine; I just need the DayQuil to kick in.”

Tobias pursed his lips then clicked his tongue. “If you say so; Nat’s not gonna be happy to see you like this though.”

“See who like what?” the aforementioned doctor asked as she walked into the room. Natalie looked to Tobias first then Ethan, her eyes widening. “Woah, are you okay?” She quickly made her way over to Ethan and rested the back of her hand to his forehead. 

He weakly brushed her hand away. “I’m fine, Nat. Just a little under the weather.”

“I’d say more than a little; you look terrible!” She exclaimed. He frowned and she gave him a small smile. “Sorry babe, but it’s true.”

“I also walked in on him having a serious coughing fit a moment ago,” Tobias said. Ethan glared at Tobias but the latter deliberately avoided eye contact with him, choosing to look at his phone instead.

Natalie gently placed her hand on Ethan’s cheek and turned his face towards her so she could look at him. He watched as her eyes scanned his face and knew she was trying to figure out how sick he really was. He both loved and hated how well she knew him sometimes. “You should go home, Ethan.”

“I’m fine,” he argued. “I already took some meds, they just need to kick in.”

She pulled out her stethoscope and pointed it at him threateningly. “Go home or I’ll admit you.”

Tobias coughed back a chuckle and Ethan raised an eyebrow. “You do remember I’m your boss, right?”

She nodded as she put the headset into her ears and placed the cold chestpiece against his chest, making him jump. “You’re my boss, my boyfriend, and now, my patient. Breathe in.”

“Nat, this is ridiculous--” he argued but stopped when she glared at him.

“Breathe. In.” she repeated. Shaking his head in reply, he did as she said and found taking a breath was difficult. He fought the cough he could feel bubbling up but to no avail; thankfully, however, this cough was not nearly as violent as the last one. Nat pulled the chestpiece away and nodded. “Yeah, you’re a mess. You’re going home.” He opened his mouth to protest but she held up her hand. “Don’t argue with me on this. You’re in no state to work, let alone be around other sick patients.” 

She pulled out a prescription pad, scribbled something down then turned to Tobias and handed it to him. “Tobias, can you send this down to the pharmacy so they can get it filled? I’ll pick it up when it’s ready.”

He nodded and took the form. “Sure thing.” He turned to Ethan and smiled sympathetically. “Get better soon, Ethan. Nat’s not as fun to be around when she’s in charge.”

Natalie rolled her eyes and smirked as Tobias made his way out of the office. She turned back to Ethan and softened her gaze as he frowned and sniffled. She caressed his cheek with her hand. “I love you.”

His frown shifted to a small smile. “I love you too.” He sneezed.

“You see why I’m sending you home, right?”

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah; I do. I hate being sick. I always feel so useless.”

“You are still human, my love; and humans get sick from time to time. It’s normal.” She crouched in front of him and took his hands in hers. “I’ll come over after my shift and make you some soup, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that--” he weakly protested.

She shook her head. “I want to; let me take care of you, baby. Please.”

Sighing, he nodded and stood, bringing Natalie up with him. He reached for her but hesitated as he didn’t want to make her ill. She smiled at him and stood on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

He nodded. Sighing, he left the hospital and made his way home, his head in a fog for most of the journey. After safely arriving home, he changed into some more comfortable clothing, with the intention of getting some work done on his laptop; but the bed looked just so inviting. I guess I could lay down for a few minutes, he thought. Gently, he laid on the bed and closed his eyes. Five minutes is all I need. Within seconds, his body relaxed and he began to emit quiet snores, work completely forgotten.

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

Several Hours Later

Ethan woke to the muffled sounds of the television and someone shuffling around in his kitchen. He groaned and got out of bed, padding his way to the source of the noise. As he exited the bedroom, he was greeted with the various sights of onion, tomato, and meat that were cooking on the stovetop. Unfortunately, due to his stuffed sinuses, he could barely smell anything but he presumed it was heavenly.

“Hi,” a voice said. He turned his attention to the source and smiled as Natalie approached him, throwing a hand towel over her shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” he replied, truthfully.

She gently brought his forehead to her lips as she judged his temperature. She hummed as she pulled away. “You’re warm.” She turned around and grabbed a small box out of her purse then handed it to him. He looked it over appraisingly, realizing this must be the prescription Nat wrote out earlier. “Take one of these now; it should lower your fever and help you feel better. Go get comfortable, the soup will be ready soon.”

“You didn’t have to do all this, Nat,” he began.

“Of course I did,” she said, cutting him off. She rested a gentle hand on his back and guided him towards the sofa. “Now, relax and get comfy. I’m almost done.”

Ethan did as she said, plopping down on the couch. He opened the prescription box and took the prescribed medication as Jenner trotted over and rested his head in his master’s lap. Ethan patted the pup’s head soothingly, giving him a tired smile. “Has she been giving you orders today, too?” he asked.

“Unlike you, Jenner is a spectacular patient,” Nat answered from the kitchen. “He’s been very good and even earned himself a few treats for being so good.”

“Did you, now?” Ethan mused, looking down at Jenner. The pup, none the wiser to the conversation happening about him, simply wagged his tail and gave his best doggy smile to his owner. Ethan chuckled. “Good dog.”

Taking the remote, he flipped to the Classic Film channel and sunk lower onto the couch. He felt his body begin to shiver and grabbed the nearby throw blanket, covering himself with it. “God, this is awful. I hate being sick.”

“I know, my love,” Nat soothed. “But the meds I gave you should help. They just need time to kick in. And,” she walked over and placed a bowl of hot soup in front of him on the coffee table, “this should help too. It’s an old family recipe of Dani’s. It works wonders.”

“Speaking from experience?” he asked, leaning over, letting the steam from the hot bowl wash over his face. 

Nat nodded. “Yep. Both Dani and I got the flu within a week of each other when we were still living together. She made this soup for us and we both felt better almost immediately. I’m convinced it’s got magic powers.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.” He pulled the coffee table a little closer to the couch and smiled at Nat. “Thank you for making this.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, returning his smile. “Now, eat. I’ll be right there.”

Lacking the energy to argue, he did as she said, bringing a spoonful of the hot soup to his lips. Within minutes, Ethan felt the hot liquid warm up his body, which had been starting to feel cold. Nat smiled as she joined him with her own bowl, nodding in approval as he steadily ate. 

Nat filled him in on what he missed at work while they ate, which hadn’t been much, thankfully. Their new patient wouldn’t be admitted for another week so the team had just done some prep and research today but nothing else beyond that. Ethan asked a few questions as Nat explained but otherwise, remained quiet through their conversation. Nat raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “You’re being unusually cooperative. What’s the matter?”

He chuckled and placed his near empty bowl on the coffee table. “Nothing. I’m just feeling a little drained, is all.”

“Mm, I’m not surprised. When you get sick, it hits you like a freight train.”

He frowned. “Thanks.”

Nat chuckled and settled deeper into the couch. She opened her arms and gestured towards herself with her fingers. “C’mere.”

Needing no further invitation, Ethan maneuvered himself into Nat’s embrace, covering them both with the throw blanket he had still been wearing. As he relaxed in her arms, he wondered aloud, “Aren’t you worried about getting sick?”

She hummed. “Nah. But even if I was, it wouldn’t stop me from being here.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I would take care of you, anytime.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you, Nat. You’re too good for me.”

“No, I’m not,” she replied, smiling. “We’re just the right amount of good for each other.” She kissed his head. “Can I get you anything else?”

He shook his head, tightening his hold around her midsection. “No. Just you.”

“I’m right here,” Nat reassured. 

“Love you,” Ethan murmured, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you too. Now, rest.” She gently leaned over and took the remote from the coffee table.

“Don’t watch the next episode of Bake Off without me,” Ethan said, his voice drowsy.

Nat chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare. When you’re feeling better, we’ll pick up where we left off.” When he didn’t respond, she glanced down to find that Ethan had fallen asleep. Smiling to herself, she turned on an old favorite film of hers and watched, while running her fingers up and down Ethan’s back. 

It would be a few more days before Ethan was back in top shape; but Nat took care of him the entire time. From bringing him food to ensuring he rested instead of working, Nat took better care of Ethan than he had ever done himself when he had been sick in the past. He’d never been so well taken care of before, and it made him all the more grateful to have her in his life. He’d always hoped she’d take over the DT for him one day; and after the way she cared for him, he knew the team would be in the best possible hands. And so would he.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @paulfwesley @ethansdique @openheartfanfics @perriewinklenerdie @little-flowers-on-heaven @stateofgracious @coffeeheartaddict @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @mm2305 @gryffindordaughterofathena @actuallybored @writer-ish @queencarb @takeharryandgo @lsvdw-blog @itsjustwinter @chaoticchopshopheart @ohchoices @maurine07 @oldminniemcg @parisa-kh @shanzay44 @uberamsey @izzyourresidentlawyer @adiehardfan @custaroonie @mia143 @a-crepusculo @takemyopenheart @toadfrog26 @quixoticdreamer16 @barbean @headoverheelsforramsey @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @crazy-loca-blog @dorisz @thegreentwin @cryomyst @kalinahonore @choicesficwriterscreations @rosebudde @trappedinfanfiction @custaroonie​

[softyoongiionly]

Will You Make a Mess Now?

Jungkook’s never been touched before and, after a hectic end to his semester, he thinks he wants that to change...

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Virgin! Jungkook, established relationship au, college au, smut, fluff.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: HELLO YES I MISSED YOU. Guys, I swear i’m working on updating my series (plural) but, I’ve been out of writing for a while and, I needed something to get me back in the groove. What better way than to continue to affirm that my love for Jungkook is unavoidable and, unstoppable. i love youuuuu. This is unedited for now, please forgive any mistakes, I was too excited. 

Warnings: smut, language, 18+ only please.

After 4 grueling months of relentless studying and lectures, you can finally say that your second to last semester of university is finally over.

Finals week is still at the entrance of your subconscious as its literally all you’ve been able to think about for quite some time. You haven’t been able to unwind or see your friends and, if you’re being honest, you don’t remember the last time you actually slept for more than four hours at a time.

The good news is…

All of that is now behind you.

The exams have been taken, the textbooks have been returned or re-sold, the mountain of instant meals have been cleared from your kitchen (for now) and, you are currently on the subway headed to celebrate with the only person in the world that could properly bring you out of your post-exam haze:

Your boyfriend, Jungkook.

Jungkook is a kinesiology major, whom you met in one of your labs nearly two years ago. The two of you were friends for a long time before you finally got up the courage to kiss him at a party 5 months ago. And by courage, you mean you had a little too much to drink and, Jungkook looked way too good in his university crew neck so, you awkwardly leaned in to kiss him and he, being the absolute angel he is, pecked you on the lips before explaining to you that he wouldn’t kiss you properly until you were sober.

The next day, you woke up in his bed, alone. Your first response was to panic but, upon slowly sitting up in his sheets, you find Jungkook curled up on the floor amongst a pile of blankets. After a few slightly uncomfortable conversations, the two of you arranged a date and, started…you know…falling in love

Or whatever…

Fun fact: Given the fact that you’ve only been with Jungkook for a few months, the two of you have yet to be intimate. Jungkook stated early on that he wanted to take things slowly and, of course you were more than ok with that.

He’s been more and more comfortable with heavier petting so to speak as of lately but, the farthest you’ve ever gone was having his hand down your panties, and your hand over the seam of his jeans. And you’re fine with the progression of your sex life with Jungkook but, he’s only ever made you cum before and, every time you try and return the favor he politely declines.

“It’s ok, I just wanted you to finish jagi…”

“I’m ok, don’t worry, it will go down soon. Do you feel good though? Did I do it right?”

“Soon baby, I promise, it’s just not the right time yet.”

Once again, you’d never push him into something he didn’t want to do but, you were slightly confused as to why he never wanted you to reciprocate. 

Jungkook is quite frankly the best boyfriend in the entire world. He’s all of the cheesy stuff and, more. Things have been progressing slowly but, you didn’t mind. Whatever you have with him, it feels real.

And to be completely honest, you miss him so much that it’s starting to really get to you.

20 minutes later and, you’re in front his place and sending a quick text to let him know you’ve arrived.

You: I’m outside

You: please save me, it’s freezing  :’’’(

Not even a full minute goes by before you hear the fumbling of the lock and, you quickly prepare yourself to latch onto your boyfriend like a freaking spidermonkey.

It’s been almost a month since you’ve seen him face to face so, you can imagine your confusion (and disappointment) when you’re met with the face of his older brother instead.

“Hey,” Namjoon’s dimpled smile is a sight for sore eyes but, it does nothing to wane your confusion, “Kook is passed out upstairs but, he told me earlier to be on the lookout for you in case he fell asleep, which he did.”

A smile is passed to Namjoon as he holds the door open for you, “Of course he did, thanks Joon, is it just you guys right now?”

Jungkook has six brothers and, they all live under the same roof, so the rent is split in seven equal parts.

It’s the only way for them to afford a house off campus.

“Nah Jin and Tae are upstairs too, everyone else is out.” He murmurs and, its then you notice the dark circles decorating the space beneath his eyes.

“Gotcha, are you excited to be done with finals? I feel like I could sleep for 15 years…” You jest, nudging him gently, knowing full well that Namjoon was feeling the same sense of exhaustion you were.

He chuckles and nods immediately, walking with you to the bottom of the stairs, eyes flitting eagerly towards his bedroom.

“That is literally my plan for the rest of the day. I have an adjustment on my project and, after I get that submitted, I’m falling asleep and not talking to anyone for at least 24 hours.” He declares, the seriousness in his tone causing you to giggle.

“I’ll make sure to thwart any of the guys that try to fuck with your beauty sleep…” You vow, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re one of the good ones Y/N…” He laughs, jerking his chin towards Jungkook’s door, “he’s missed you a lot.”

Namjoon’s response is unexpected and it warms you from the inside out.

“Yeah? Did he say something to you?”

You feel like you’re in middle school again, attempting to figure out if your crush likes you.

“He was whining about it the other day, he’s really into you.” Namjoon smirks, before sending a pointed look your way, “don’t tell him I told you that though, he’d kill me.”

The smile on your face probably looks a little ridiculous but, you don’t care, you’re only concern is getting up these stairs and into your boyfriend’s bed.

“I wouldn’t want to expose you for breaking the bro-code.” You return his smirk, passing him to ascend the staircase, “Get some rest, thank you for letting me in.”

“You got it. Have a good night.” Namjoon disappears behind his bedroom door rather quickly, eager to pass out and, you suddenly feel your heartrate increase as you grow closer to Jungkook’s room.

You really did miss him and, the urge to jump into his arms is stronger than you’d like to admit.

Especially given that you know he’s asleep and, you’d have to wait for him to wake up. And you would, cause you know, he deserves to sleep as long as he wants.

You’re not certain that you won’t fall asleep with him.

The door to his room is opened carefully and quietly and, shut just the same.

His bedroom is almost too dark due to the blackout curtains that hung over his windows; a birthday present from his brother Yoongi, they are his new favorite thing.

Jungkook must have shut them in a haste however because, there is a tiny sliver of light shining through which thankfully provides you with a clear path way to his bed.

Soft snores emit from the pillow closest to the windows and, all you can see is Jungkook’s mop of black hair peeking out from underneath his covers. The hum of his noise machine is a comforting sound and, paired with the woodsy vapors coming from his diffuser (a gift from Namjoon), you could feel the sleepiness beginning to tug at your body.

With your overnight bag placed on Jungkook’s gaming chair, you make your way to his bed and slowly peel the covers back.

Oh-

Despite the fact that it’s freezing outside, your boyfriend has unfortunately decided to sleep shirtless, his toned body clad only in his favorite grey sweatpants and, a pair of black socks.

He looks like a god but, you know, that’s totally fine and, not at all distracting.

His brows are furrowed in deep sleep, his cherry lips formed into a slight pout, snores still rumbling deep within his chest. One of his arms is bent at the elbow and, tucked firmly underneath his pillow, his other arm stretched out across the expanse of his bed.

Which of course, poses an issue for you since you don’t want to disturb his sleep but, you want nothing more than to snuggle up to him.

(forever)

Jungkook is a pretty heavy sleeper so, the likelihood of waking him is pretty slim and even if you do, you can at least take comfort in the fact that he’s expecting you.

So you slowly lift his arm, quickly tucking yourself into the warmth of his bed and, move the covers back to their original position. It isn’t super comfortable but, you’re afraid to move anymore in fear of waking him up.

Your hands absentmindedly trail over his forearms, admiring the warm, caramel undertones in his skin and, the veins which protrude gently underneath the surface.

His hand is still covered in the temporary tattoos he got nearly two months ago.

Being the Virgo that he is, Jungkook wanted to insure he liked the chosen designs before deciding to get the real thing. You certainly aren’t complaining but, you are secretly hoping he decides to keep them.

Jungkook and tattoos: a lethal combination.

You lay like this for awhile, admiring your boyfriend, listening to the various white noises echoing off the walls, enjoying the scent of his freshly washed sheets.

He washes his bedding once a week.

Sure enough, you feel your lids grow heavier and heavier, the temptation of sleep growing ever so slightly at the back of your mind.

However, Jungkook’s hand twitches at your side and, you feel movement beside you, causing your head to tilt in his direction.

You’re met with a sleepy smile and, a gaze so endearing, you might just die right then and there.

“You’re here…” He murmurs, voice raspy and decorated with sleep.

It doesn’t take you long to get closer to him, his free arm not leaving your body in order to hug you against his bare chest.

“I’m here…” You answer, a smile in your voice, pursing your lips to place kisses on  his skin.

Jungkook smiles properly now but, you don’t see it, your face tucked firmly into his neck.

He’s so happy you’re here.

His arm moves out from underneath his pillow to envelope you completely, shy lips pressing a few kisses to the top of your head as he shifts onto his back, taking you with him.

“Missed you..” He mumbles almost, coy and unsure but, genuine.

As he usually is.

A smile erupts on your mouth now, as you look up to face him and, for whatever reason you’re overcome with the need to feel his lips against yours. So you do just that and, secure your mouth to his, letting a deep breath out through your nose. His quick too, big hands sliding down your back to hold onto your hips.

“Missed you more” You whisper against his lips, a little breathless from the depth of the kiss you’ve just shared.

His nose wrinkles in disgust as he shakes his head, leaning in to kiss you again, “No…me…”

The childish nature of his response makes you giggle, accepting another kiss eagerly.

“If you missed me so much, why did you make Namjoon let me in hm?” You tease, still kissing at his mouth, one of your hands sliding over his ribcage.

He nibbles at your lip in retaliation, a slight smirk on his mouth, “Cause I was tired and, you were taking forever…”

Jungkook chuckles at his own whining and, you follow suit whilst shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’re only further proving my point, I rode the silver line to get here, just because it was faster and, I walked through the cold just so I could see your stupid face…”

By stupid, you mean beautiful but like, he doesn’t need to know that.

Jungkook laughs harder this time, its higher pitched and more genuine, his hands that are on your hips squeeze in retaliation.

“My face isn’t stupid….you’re stupid…” He chuckles, teasing you because, its one of his many ways of coping with how he feels for you.

Before you can respond, he kisses you again, your comeback dying in the back of your throat as your hand comes up to rest against his cheek.

The two of you can’t stop smiling and, giggling as you indulge one another, ignoring the clumsy way your lips connect.

“You look so beautiful like this…comfy…” He adds, his tone taking on a shyer tone as he nudges your nose, eyes half open, “I really did miss you jagiya…”

His words send emotion careening into your chest and, you can’t help the way your lips respond more eagerly against his.

“You make comfy look like a Calvin Klein campaign…” You retort before adding, “I missed you too. You’re staying home this winter too right?”

It’s a rarity for both of you stay on campus during winter break but, this year your families had decided to come to you.

He nods, eyes still soft as he tucks your hair behind your ear, lips pouted that you stopped kissing him for a moment, “Mhm…we’ll be here together…”

Jungkook has his moods like most people do but, there is a certain way he gets that you swear he reserves only for you. Being the youngest of seven boys, he’s used to being the source of a lot of banter and, teasing so, being with you is no exception but, recently he’s been getting softer and softer.

Sweeter and sweeter…

And you’re not complaining…

“We will.” You affirm, pecking his lips again, “we can go on all those dates we’ve been promising eachother.”

He nods, pulling the duvet up higher over the two of you, “Yeah, I have a lot of ideas but, I want to hear your ideas too…but I’m excited for mine…”

Another giggle leaves your lips at his almost jovial tone, his competiveness sneaking through a bit.

“I’m happy I get to spend the night with you more, you keep me warm.” You hum, delighting in the fact that Jungkook blushes at your statement.

“I keep you warm?” He checks, securing his teeth to his bottom lip, nibbling on it nervously.

With a nod of your head, you snuggle into his body, taking in the scent that was uniquely Jungkook: woodsy and clean, free of any harshness.

“So warm.” You whisper against his neck, pressing a gentle kiss there.

Though, as gentle as the kiss was, it doesn’t stop Jungkook from immediately plumping up from within the confines of his sweatpants. His neck is his weak spot.

You don’t feel him yet but, you do notice a reaction from him: his head tilts back ever so slightly, feet rubbing together at the end of the bed. The teasing words stay trapped in your throat as you decide to push your luck and, kiss him there again, letting your lips linger longer than before.

He doesn’t stop you when you place a third kiss into the sweet spot on his neck, or a fourth or a fifth but, soon enough he feels his dick filling out the empty space in his sweat pants, the sensation of your lips beginning to get to him.

“Jagiya?” He croons into the darkness of the room whilst his heart beats wildly in his chest, his hands sort of fidgeting against your hips.

“Hm?” You hum, kissing up his neck towards his lips, “Are you ok?”

He isn’t, he’s hard and, there is four months of stress sitting on his shoulders that he is certain your lips will melt away but, he’s so nervous.

“Uh…I’m…” He stutters for the right words but, you already know what he’s trying to say because, you can feel him now, pressing into your hip.

“Do you want me to stop?” You place a gentle kiss to his stuttering mouth, wanting to check with him before you continue.

“No…yes, shit I-“ He looks torn, glancing down towards his dick before looking back at you, “I don’t know jagi, I’m sorry…”

Immediately, you shake your head, pulling back to look at him, “Hey…hey it’s ok, you have nothing to be sorry for ok? We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready. I should have asked you if it was ok to kiss you there…”

He shakes his head now, pulling you closer, “You didn’t do anything wrong, I want you to kiss me and…touch me, I just wish I wasn’t so…” He sighs, biting his lip, dark eyes flitting nervously around, “I’ve just never…let anyone make me cum before…”

You have to admit, this shocks you.

Jungkook was obviously a campus heartthrob, literally everyone had a crush on him, even the Dean and, while you didn’t think that made him into some kind of Casanova, you had been certain that he had some sexual experience before meeting you.

But clearly, you were wrong.

Reaching out to touch his cheek, you pull his gaze back to yours, “There’s nothing wrong with that babe. We all do things at our own pace. The two of us have all the time in the world, you can wait as long as you need to…”

His fingers curl slightly against your hips, shifting you until your sitting in his lap, causing you to ignore the way his length feels pressing into your core. A deep breath is needed but, it doesn’t last long because, Jungkook speaks again, surprising you.

“Noona I-“ He kisses you again, trying to focus on anything other than his throbbing dick, “I don’t want to wait anymore though…I’m just really nervous.”

It hits you like a ton of bricks but, you remain focused, allowing him to take all of the time he needs.

“That’s ok, it’s ok to be nervous.” You assure him gently, kissing between his eyes, “Can I ask what you’re nervous about?”

“I just don’t know what it’s going to be like and, I don’t know…my hyungs say it feels amazing but, I don’t want to do the wrong thing or what if you use your mouth and, it tastes bad or something, fuck I sound really dumb, I swear…I’m ….”

You cut him off with a gentle kiss to his forehead, smiling fondly into his skin as your hands come up to rub tenderly at his back.

“Slow down for me baby.” You whisper and, the words along with your touch are enough to calm him slightly, “you say you don’t want to wait right? So, what would you be comfortable with us doing right now? It doesn’t have to be all at once, we can take things slow.”

His fingers explore the skin on your hips, as he wears a nervous but eager expression, “I don’t want our first time to be…here or like…after all of this.  I don’t think I’m ready for the way you’ll make me feel, I can barely hang on when you’re sitting on me like this but, I…”

His eyes flit down to your center for a moment, as if the thought of being inside of you overwhelms him. He looks back up at you, lips swollen from all of the kiss, his timid expression tainted with lust.

“I wanna feel what it’s like to have someone touch me…I want you to touch me really bad.”

The world could be ending beyond Jungkook’s blackout curtains and, it still wouldn’t be enough to stop you from honoring his request.

Your finger tilts his chin towards your lips, “I want to touch you too. Can I touch you right now?”

He nods immediately, swallowing around a dry throat and an unsteady heartbeat. To soothe himself, he kisses you again before, nudging your nose playfully, trying to ease the tension he feels.

“Ok, I’m going to get behind you alright?”

Your response confuses him and, you can tell but, you know he’ll catch on soon enough. He leans forward, allowing you sit directly behind him, your legs on either side of his silhouette, your body encircling him with your warmth.

“Lean back against me…” You whisper in his ear, causing him to shiver as he obliges, his bare back now flush against your chest. “Comfy?’

He chuckles, his cheeks on fire at the position you’re both in but, he nods none the less, his hands moving to the outsides of his thighs and, then to tops of your knees, rubbing the skin there.

“Now, I want you to show me how you touch yourself ok? So I can see what you like and, then, whenever you’re ready, I’ll touch you.” You explain gently, kissing around the shell of his ear, your hands coming to brush over his hips.

Jungkook already feels like he could cum, he just can’t believe you’re about to touch him.

He has no idea what to expect.

“Ok…” He tilts his lips to mumble against your mouth, his tone boyish and jovial, “ You promise you won’t laugh right?”

At his question you giggle, kissing him and shaking your head, “Of course I’m not going to laugh babe, I’m here to make you feel good.”

He chuckles too, relishing in the way you make him feel: comfortable and comforted.

“OK, I’ll uh…I’ll start now…” He whispers, his shaky and quite frankly clammy hand leaves your knee and, slowly travels to the band of his sweatpants, tucking underneath for a moment before bringing his dick out from it’s confines.

It’s bigger than you anticipated and, as hot as any dick can be. Swollen and curving slightly at the reddened tip, it makes your mouth water; literally every inch of your boyfriend is beautiful.

Jungkook takes a shaky breath in through his nose as he encircles a hand around his length, squeezing tentatively right underneath the tip, the sensation makes his head spin.

He stays silent as he finds a rhythm his comfortable with and, you admire the way his toned stomach trembles with his own ministrations. You take note that he pays careful attention to his  frenulum, his thumb rubbing over it continuously as he strokes himself.

After a few moments, you start pressing kisses into his neck, allowing your hands to wander over his hips, tracing patterns into his skin.

“Jagi…I-“ He mutters before his words catch on the softest moan, the sound of course caused by you nibbling on his neck, “You’re making it so good for me…”

He sounds helpless, like he knows that you touching him is going to ruin him because, you touching on him whilst he jacks off is already fucking him up.

“Yeah? It feels good?” You reaffirm before sucking gently on his sweetspot, a motion that causes his hand to stall right underneath his tip, his head falling back against you.

“Mhm…” He hums and, if he wasn’t reigning it in, he would be whining but, he stops himself, trying to gain some sense, “Do you know how to touch me now?”

He’s starting to feel impatient, because he knows the way your hands feel on him now and, his dick is so hard he feels like he could burst.

You smirk fondly against his neck as you nod slowly, your hand trailing over his wrist which is still working on his length, “Are you ready?”

“Yes…” He answers immediately, letting his hand fall to the side, his eyes closing tightly as he prepares himself for your touch.

“Just relax for me ok? I’m going to make you feel so good.” You coo into his ear before slowly resuming the touch on Jungkooks length.

At the first squeeze of your hand, he’s quite certain he has never felt more pleasure in his entire life, as you slowly drag your fist up his aching dick, his mouth falls open in complete awe but, when you begin the same rhythm he had just performed on himself, Jungkook swears his going to melt into a puddle on the bed.

“Oh-“ He huffs, his eyes popping open to zero in on your hand because, watching you touch him is enough to fill up his spank bank for the rest of the year. “Oh my god…Noona…you’re touching me…”

He’s in disbelief. In 22 years, his never let anyone touch him like this before and, although he can’t believe he ever lived without it, he’s glad it was you who touched him first.

“Mhm…” You hum in his ear, kissing gently on the side of his face, “Does it feel good baby?”

As your thumb repeats his early movements, his brown eyes roll to the back of his head, his adams apple jumping around his throat as he swallows.

“I can’t…feel anything else but, your hand on my dick I-oh my fucking god…” He whimpers, his eyes popping open again to watch your pace increase.

His words surprise you, he’s never been so vulgar before and, now you know why but, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hear more.

“Nothing else huh? Do you think you’re gonna cum for me baby?” You’re egging him on, wanting him to cum his brains out for you.

You gotta make a good first impression after all…

He nods, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his abs trembling even more so with your motions, his toes curling painfully against the sheets.

“Yeah…really soon…for you..” He gets out, not thinking clearly enough to form full sentences.

“Yeah? What if I went a little faster hm? Would that do the trick baby? Will you make a mess now?”

Oh he’s fuck now.

As your pace increases on him, you focus more attention on his throbbing tip, pulling and squeezing him to the point of no return. Jungkook feels nothing but, pleasure as he starts to rock his hips up into your touch.

“I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna cum…oh my god you’re so good…” He mutters before a whimper takes over his speech, eyes squeezing shut as his head falls back against you once more, “fuck….thank you Noona…god thank you so much…”

Those are his last words before his release comes, the sweltering pleasure consuming his entire being, starting up from his balls and, shooting up his length. Jungkook knows in his heart he’s never cum so hard in his life. Nothing could ever compare to the way you make him feel.

“There you go…let it out baby…” You whisper, kissing at his cheeks as you stroke him through his release.

Once his hips begin to twitch with sensitivity, you slow your pace on him, easing off his dick.

Jungkook’s breathing his erratic and, he feels drunk off of the pleasure he’s just received but, he knows for a fact that he came all over himself and, all over your hand.

You wait for him to open his eyes so, he can watch you lick his release from your fingers, taking time to show him the skills of yours he’s yet to experience.

“holy shit…” He mutters, eyes completely glazed over before leaning in and capturing your lips between his and, kissing you with everything he has.

You giggle against his lips before, squealing unceremoniously into the kiss as Jungkook turns quickly in your grip, falling back towards the foot of the bed and, taking you with him. He just chuckles, kissing you harder as he lets his hands run a little more freely over your body.

“I’m guessing you liked it?” You tease into the kiss before he leans back, his expression completely offended.

“Liked it? You’re guessing I liked it???” He blazes dubiously before, pinching your sides and, suddenly leaning into kiss all over your face, nibbling on your cheeks, “You almost made me cry…”

“You cry all the time…” You point out, pinching his side back, causing him to gasp in mock horror.

“Shut upppp…” He whines, smirking as he tucks his face into your neck, nibbling on the skin again and, while it seems innocent, soon enough Jungkook’s nibbling turns into kissing and, his playful touch on your hips turns to caressing.

“Noona?” His tone has shifted lower, it shoots straight down to your core.

“Yeah?” You breathe, eyes shut against the sensation of his lips.

“Will you make a mess now?”

[kyber-crystal]

➳ good enough || s.r.

summary: after a long week you’re left completely exhausted. steve comforts you and helps you unwind. 

words: ~1.6k 

warnings: slight mentions of violence, angst, angst-to-fluff, a lil friends-to-lovers (i’m SORRY literally all of my oneshots are some variation of this but i just can’t resist), minor age gap? (if you call 5 years a lot). also civil war happened but they resolved it so 2017 au teeheeeeee

a/n: this sucked omg. why is my writing going downhill. also this is a red-room-turned-agent-reader who helped steve adjust when he came out of the ice bc i love cliche love backstories hehe...i tried to be very descriptive here but that failed oops. this is prolly one of my worst fics ever (it’s unedited) but my other one got deleted so i’m uploading this in its place!

Steve knew something was wrong the minute you came back from your mission. You always acted a bit off the first few days following your return, but for some reason, today seemed different. For the past week you'd been blatantly avoiding his gaze, refusing to meet his eye unless forced to. 

You don’t even return Sam and Bucky’s sarcastic one-liners - and you always make sure to send a cheesy joke right back at them. It’s not typical for you to be so quiet and reserved like this; frankly, it scared him. 

He knows that as a former Red Room assassin, you never had it easy. As the youngest of the twenty-eight dancer-disguised warriors, you were merely eight years old when you were admitted (Natasha was thirteen). At eight, there was much you didn’t know. You were naive, easily shaped to conform to the strict rules they’d set out for you. 

But despite all the hell you’d gone through in the past, you managed to find it in your heart to forgive and create a compassionate nature towards others. Especially him. He always wondered what he deserved to get someone like you-- he felt more than lucky to have you in his life.

It was 4 a.m, and his insomnia was at its worst. It had peaked ever since he’d come out of the ice - he was 27, had so much of his life before him before it was abruptly put to a stop. But then he met you, with your warm eyes and kind smile that was such a sharp contrast to the girl you used to be. 

The sound of muffled shouts coming from across the compound makes him look up - he sets down his mug of coffee and immediately heads down the hall to see what’s going on. 

Steve carefully pushed open the glass doors to the training facility, seeing you standing in front of a punching bag and attacking the hell out of it with an almost murderous look in your eyes - one he’d never seen before. The tape around your knuckles were splattered with your crimson blood. Despite the dim lighting, he could see the outlines of fresh bruises all over your arms and shoulders. The sight made bile rise up in his throat. He felt his heart break.

Every heavy blow of your fists was accompanied by a ground-shaking boom that echoed across the gym, unleashing the monster trapped inside. You pick up the pace and increase your speed, channelling all your pent-up anger and frustration and guilt into what you were doing. 

It hurts. You would give anything to get rid of the pain. It hurts like hell, but you would trade living a regret-ridden life for a guilt-free one in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes. Besides, you’ve experienced far worse before-- six-inch knife wounds, bullets to the abdomen and upper arms, broken ribs and noses. This should be a walk in the park.

The concerned super-soldier stood several feet away and observed you, silently watching you murdering the poor punching bag that’s barely withholding all the fury you’ve poured into pummeling it; it was about to burst at the seams.

“Y/N.” You didn’t hear him and kept going, so he repeated himself again. “Y/N.”

“What?” you snapped, keeping your gaze trained in front of you. “What the hell do you want?”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s late. What’s keeping you up at this hour?”

“Nothing,” you replied plainly, but he caught the brief flash of a grief-stricken look cross over your expression and your eyes glaze over, “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“You clearly aren’t. Y/N, talk to me. Please.”

“I told you, I’m,” you increased the force of your fists with each word you spoke, as you felt your eyes stinging, “just, fine!”

“Y/N...” he whispered, so softly, as if he was afraid he’d break you with a single sentence. 

That was the last straw. The tears spilled over. Your vision began to blur as you didn’t even bother to wipe them away. The broad-shouldered super-soldier, your fists, and the punching bag and everything insight are turned into blurry, shapeless blobs. You try blinking them away but it was no use; but you keep going. 

“Please tell me what’s going on. Tell me what��s wrong...please don’t shut me out. I only want to help.”

“Leave me alone,” you repeated with a growl, arms now aching with the pain of a thousand tiny needles. But he doesn’t, and he stays firmly rooted in his place. You hastily wiped at your nose with your hands. “For gods’ sake, Rogers, leave,” smack “me,” smack “alone.”

Your last punch was so hard the walls shook and caused Steve to take a step back in alarm. But after that, all the fight is gone from you. Your knees buckle from underneath you and your shoulders slump in defeat and you crumble to the floor. A sound so raw and hoarse escapes your lips and it sounds nothing near human. 

The metallic scent of blood mixed with your salty tears and sweat overwhelms your senses and makes your head spin. Suddenly the act of taking in a single breath seems impossible and your chest tightens, preventing you from being able to breathe properly. 

The ever-so-fragile wall that had been struggling to hold your tears at bay finally broke. 

Heaving, wrenching sobs clawed their way up your throat and tore through your already weary heart - escaping in broken, agonized cries and heart-wrenching howls that make Steve feel like his heart is deliberately shattering into a million, tiny fragments of glass. He doesn’t know what to do because for the first time in his life, the woman he’s always seen with her head held high and an unmatched confidence that could almost put the President to shame was vulnerable, letting it all out at once. 

Steve doesn’t ask any questions nor does he push to to speak up, but silently comes over to you and wraps you into a tight hug, cradling you against his chest. Your arms find their way around his torso, pressing your forehead against the soft cotton of his T-shirt as his free hand makes a gentle trek up and down your back. 

As if you were a delicate flower, he carefully brought your head closer and pressed a kiss to your temple, letting his lips linger for a second longer than normal to reassure you. To reassure you that everything would in fact, be okay. Because he was there.

“Don’t leave me...please don’t leave me,” you choked out as he tightened his hold on you. “Please don’t leave.”

“I won’t, darling, I promise,” he cooed, lips brushing against your forehead, “it’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay, we’re okay. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

Then, the suffocating pressure is eased off your chest, little by little. You began sinking into the comfort of his warm arms and soothing words. And with his reminder that you didn’t have to go through hell and back alone, because he’d be there, you began to heal. 

...

ONE YEAR LATER

“...Joining the Avengers has been one hell of a ride. I went through hell and back, had my fair share of ups and downs and fought in countless wars. But along the way I’ve been blessed with the privilege of getting a built-in second family and making some of the best friends I’ve had in my life. I met my soulmate.” Steve gazed down at you warmly as you spoke, “I honestly had no idea things would ever work out like this but now, I can’t imagine a life without knowing who all these amazing people are.

“It’s been 15 months since the day he saved me.” Everyone immediately fell silent. "I had hit a very, very low point in my life and I was just about ready to give up. It was like I was screaming into a void and nobody was there to catch me when I fell. I felt so helpless and lost. Stuck. If Steve hadn’t come along at the time he did...I don’t know what would’ve have happened instead. So, Steve...I want to thank you...for everything. I can’t even begin to list all the things you’ve sacrificed or done for my sake and I owe you. From this point forward I promise to always stick by your side no matter how rough things get. I promise to love you at your best and your worst; whenever you need me I’ll always be here. No amount of anything I do will ever match what you’ve done, but I can promise you this: I’ll love you until the day I die, ‘til death do us part.

“’Till death do us part,” Steve repeated, smiling through the tears in his eyes. “God, I love you.”

You broke into a gorgeous grin that had him weak at the knees.  “I love you too.”

“The rings, please,” Fury nodded over in Peter’s direction, and the teenager handed them over to the two of you. “Agent Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Captain Steven Grant Rogers to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” you said softly, as you put on Steve’s ring.

He turned to the super-soldier. “And Captain Steven Grant Rogers, do you take Agent Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Steve took your hand in his and slid the diamond ring over your finger, “I do.”

“Very well, then,” Fury smiled widely, a rare sight. “You may now kiss your bride.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Steve rushed forward and pulled you close, dipping you down low before bringing you back up and kissing you passionately. 

His warm lips serving as a reminder of all that you still had left to live for, that you had so much of your life ahead of you. A life with him.

...

general tags(this is from my old taglist spreadsheet, including mutuals who might be interested): @rynhaswritersblock @purpleskiesstorm @pies-writes-and-more @wxstedhexrt @captainchrisstan @sandystoriess @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @patzammit @capcapcapsicle @wheresmyjae @thinkingofbuckybarnes @carryonmywaywardbucky @musicalkeys @buckybarnesthehotshot @tombob2005 @zaddychris @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @sylvie-writes @sis-it-dont-add-up @tonystankschild​ @sunstalgia​

steve rogers/chris evans tags: @speechlessxx @angrybirdcr @stainedsouvenir @marvelfanatic16

permanent tags<3: @poesflygirl @sandwitch-god

[mssleepy876b]

Family Ties Chapter 6

Summary: Family can be a positive and negative force in one's life. Detective Jay Halstead knows that personally and he helps a new Intelligence family member through it.

Requested? No. But promised @resanoona that I would post mine once she posted hers.

Word count: 2426

Warnings: domestic violence, PTSD possible

A/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes

Family Ties Chapter 6

It had been over a year and Brie felt solid on her life and her path. She worked because she wanted to and felt her work in Intelligence was helping out the unit who had helped her back to her feet. She had started to take over more and more of the technology work from Adam and Kevin since she had a knack for it. She could figure out tech searches, etc. that they needed and found her skills meant she was faster than Ruzek or Atwater, so Hank had her trained more and more by CPD for technology support for Intelligence.

She was sitting at her desk in the bullpen when Trudy came up. She was carrying a floral display. It included her one-time favorite blue roses, but she didn’t have any guys in her life, so she figured it was for Kim, Hailey or Vanessa. They had quickly become her friends and had helped her build her confidence. She had cut & colored her hair, was wearing different clothes that made her confidence show, and her make-up had changed as well to enhance her features showing the outside changes to match the stronger person now underneath the surface thanks to the support of those around her.

It shocked Brie when Trudy placed the flower display on her desk pulling her again from the work in front of her. “Here. A delivery for you, Cinderella.” She said. Jay turned to see the flowers on Brie’s desk.

Brie stood looking confused and spoke, “Are you sure, Sergeant? Who would send flowers to me? It’s not my birthday so it’s not my parents.” The girls all smiled as Brie took the card from the display and Platt moved back downstairs. Her face paled as she read the card to herself. She reached behind her for her chair in order to sit. Brielle took a moment to gather her thoughts and she shocked the unit by dropping the flowers vase and all in the trash can next to her desk calling out. “Hell, no. How did he find me?” she said her voice angered and wavering as the sound of the vase breaking echoed her comments.

Jay and Hank quickly walked to her and she handed them the card. It was from Michael. Hank read it out loud, ‘You have had your year of fun, love. I will collect you soon from you little experiment at a life without me. And you will be back where you belong at my home and under my orders. See you soon, Brielle. Michael, your husband.’ Brie had walked from her desk and entered the break room leaving the Unit stunned.

Jay followed her once he read the card. “Are you okay, Brie?” he asked placing his hands on her shoulders.

She sighed as she placed one of her hands over his on her right shoulder. “I think so, Jay. I hate feeling scared again. It is like he keeps creeping in taking control of me again and I hate it. How can I stop him?” she said taking a breath and sounding determined.

“You know we all have your back, right?” he said to her as she turned to face him.

“I do, Jay. And I trust you all.” She said smiling up at him.

It took the unit less than 2 hours to track the flowers and how Michael purchased them. It caused Brie to get angrier and angrier thinking about the message. She finally threw down her pen and grabbed her coat running down the stairs to the front door. Hank spoke up, “Halstead, go calm her down. She needs to keep her head on straight while we look for him.”

Jay nodded and moved to follow her grabbing his own coat. He opened the gate to Intelligence only to hear Platt fussing at him. “What’s the deal, Chuckles? What crawled up her butt?”

“The flowers were from her ex.” He replied as he headed to the door as Trudy’s face darkened knowing the full story about Michael and Brielle.

“Check her car first. She is smarter than just heading off.” Platt shouted as he moved through the main doors of the district.

Jay didn’t have to go that far seeing her pace near a bench by the front door. “Talk to me, Brie.” He said moving closer slowly.

“I’m angry, Jay. The thought that he believed I would just give in, fall right back into a situation where he beat me and hit me, and I would just let it go and forgive him is ridiculous. It is as if he never saw me as a person at all. I hate that idea of that for anyone. I haven’t done everything I have this past year to fall back into that death trap. He will NEVER put his hands on me again.” She said venting to him as she motioned displaying her anger with her hands.

“Okay. That is a natural reaction. And you have done a lot of changing in the past year. Your confidence is a big piece that I have noticed. Atwater and Ruzek tell me that you have been swatting the guys away at Molly’s lately.” He said getting a small laugh from her. She took a breath and sat next to him on the bench. “Look until we know more, you have to be more careful. Running out of the building like this alone is not safe. Michael’s crew is still around you know that. They work for his uncle. They were absorbed back in. Michael coming out probably means they will be back with him. Until we get him off your back, stick close to us and don’t leave the building alone. You have learned from all of us this year. Use those skills we taught you, okay?” he said. She nodded and took in a deep breath sighing out loud. “Ready to head back in?” He asked. She nodded and stood as he smiled and led them back into the unit.

Two weeks later, Brie had to take a personal day to complete some personal tasks that had been left undone due to her focus on work in Intelligence. She smiled as Ruzek and Atwater texted her about how they missed her tech skills on a new case they had started today. She also smiled when Jay called to check on her during her lunch. She had a huge amount of respect for Jay but was cautious about letting any feelings grow for him. She had heard from Kim how he had been hurt several times by different people in his life. Brie knew she thought of Jay differently than the others, but she would never cross the line unless she knew how he felt. She valued their friendship too much to risk alienating him.

Brie left from her quiet lunch at the small café and started to feel disconcerted. She felt like she was being watched and it worried her. Her senses started to react to her intuition. She quickly spotted the car following her. She could tell that there were at least 2 men in the car. Her first thought was Michael sent them. She wasn’t close enough to go to the Precinct but noticed she was not far from Firehouse 51. Christopher Hermann and Kelly Severide were guys that she learned to trust from Molly’s, and she knew they would help her. She pulled into the parking lot and quickly walked to the door of the building closest to the lot. She entered and watched as the car parked across the street from the lot and waited. She started to get concerned and went to find Hermann or Severide. She ran into Captain Casey first literally almost knocking herself down. She blushed as he caught her to prevent her fall. “Oh, god. Captain Casey, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She said trying to control her emotions.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. But you look upset, Brielle, right? You work in Intelligence, with Detective Halstead, right?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I’m an administrative assistant as well as a tech assistant for the unit.” She said.

“What’s got you upset?” he asked her.

“I think I am being followed, Captain. I came here to get help.” She said. She pointed to the car. “I took a personal day to handle errands, etc. and that car has been following me since I left the café where I had lunch. It follows me everywhere.” She said.

He nodded and she noticed a stern look come over his face. “Come on. Let’s go call your Unit. They will not put up with this.” He said leading her to the Bullpen.

He led her to a desk near Chief Boden’s office and he let her sit while he let Chief Boden know what was going on. Boden stepped out and told Casey he would stay with Brie while Casey told the others at the house what was going on. Brie sat and pulled her cell from her pocket. She pulled Voight’s number from her cell and dialed it into the phone in front of her. She listened as the phone rang. He then spoke clearly. “Voight.”

She spoke clearly and quickly. “Uncle Hank? It’s Brie. I’m at Firehouse 51. I was out running errands after lunch and I saw a car following me. I can’t seem to lose it and it is sitting across the street from the parking lot at the station. I didn’t feel like I had enough time to come to the precinct. It is a navy four door sedan with tinted windows. I can tell there are two guys in the front seat, but I can’t see the back seat. I was concerned as I felt like I was being watched since I left my lunch stop.”

Hank spoke after listening to her. “You did good, Brie. Stay there at 51. We will come and get you, make sure you are safe. 51 will keep you safe until we get there. We’ll look into this.” He said hanging up the phone. He exited his office and called out across the unit. “Halstead, Upton, and Burgess. Go to Firehouse 51. Brie is there. Thinks she is being followed. Navy 4 door sedan parked across from the station’s parking lot. She is inside the house with Chief Boden and the 2nd shift.”

Jay stopped near the station and let Hailey and Kim handle the car while he continued on to see to Brie. He quickly parked his truck and recognized her car sitting in the lot next to Captain Casey’s truck. He walked quickly onto the apparatus floor finding the Squad table empty he entered the doors near the common room. Severide greeted him. “Jay.” Kelly said shaking his hand. “Your unit’s assistant is in the Bullpen with Boden and Casey.” He said leading the way.

Kelly heard Jay release a breath and spoke again. “Everything okay? You all seem protective over her.”

“Her abusive ex got out of jail last week. He started to harass her two weeks before that. He has ties to organized crime and can’t seem to take no or being ignored as an answer. He was controlling and told her in a note with flowers that he was going to get her back.” Jay said his face setting in anger. “She’s a good person, Severide. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s done a lot to help herself in the last 18 months. Voight has known her since she was a kid and used to work with her father who is retired CPD.”

“Enough said.” Kelly answered turning the corner to enter the Bullpen.

Jay let out another deep breath when he saw her sitting at a desk with Chief Boden standing nearby. He walked over to the Chief and shook his hand. “Chief Boden.” Jay said.

“Detective Halstead. Ms. Jacobs came here due to the vehicle she says appears to be following her this afternoon.” Chief Boden said.

“Understood, Chief. Detective Upton and Officer Burgess are across the street right now and handling the vehicle.” Jay said. He looked down and saw Brie watching him from a nearby desk. “How are you feeling, Brie?”

She replied quickly as he moved closer to her, “Better. I felt safer once I got inside here. I promised I would keep the Unit alerted to anything unusual.” She said.

“Good job. You used the skills you have learned to protect yourself. We’ll find out soon if Michael is involved.” He said placing a hand on her shoulder.

His radio began to sound causing him to move his hand to turn up the sound. It was Hailey’s voice calling in the license plate and alerting that she was approaching the vehicle with Kim. It took a few minutes before Hailey came back on the radio and said the vehicle was departing with a warning to stop tailing a CPD employee. Jay released another breath. He felt Brie slide her shaking hand into his and take a deep breath herself. Hailey and Kim quickly joined Jay, Brie and the others.

Hailey entered leading Kim, smiled at Jay and Brie before she spoke. “Driver and friend were paid $500 bucks to tail her for the afternoon. Approached through a registered PI and paid by the PI. Got his information so we can pay him a visit later.” She said.

“So, no solid connection to DiLeone yet?” Jay asked.

“Not yet.” Hailey said.

Jay turned to Brie who had pulled her hand back when Hailey arrived. “What do you want to do, Brie? Do you want us to help you get back to the Precinct or what?”

“I should probably head in. Sergeant Voight will want my statement as well needing to help Ruzek and Atwater with the technology searches.” She said standing and running her hands over her slacks. “How do we get my car from here if I ride back with you? I am not sure I could drive right now.” she asked.

“I’ll drive it to the district for you, Brie.” Kim offered.

Brie nodded accepting Kim’s offer. “Thank you for your help, Chief Boden. I’m sorry if I disrupted your house.” She said to him shaking his hand.

[shnuggletea]

WHEW! I did it! I got this chapter done. It’s fresh out the oven, lovelies, so keep those comments about typos to yourself! I mean till tomorrow at least, I’m too tired right now! Takes me back to my college years of procrastination!

I seriously don’t think I can get tomorrow’s done and up but we’ll see.

One smoot below but there will be more so come here or Patreon for the unedited version. For the clean-er version, head over to Fanfiction or AO3. And don’t forget to check out the collection! It’s where you can easily find all the Sins Week contributions. Art, fics, it’s amazing!

Lovely Sins Art by @clearwillow! Thank you to the mods; @lemonlushff, @neutronstarchild, and @ruddcatha!Also, In case you missed it earlier....  here’s the playlist if you wanna take a listen.

TAG WALL!!!!!

@underwater0phelia@lavendertwilight89 @mamabearcat @nartista @nopenname22 @echobows@superpixie42 @smmahamazing @redflamesofpassion @jme-chan@cstorm86 @cicleydark-light @ruddcatha @lavaffair @kirrtash @sistasecbhere@inusgirl @obsessandfangirl @britonell @lordofthechips @mcornilliac@faolenwolf @classyhumanathletepalace @keichanz @phoenix-before-the-flame @artisticloveexpressitsall @lamuertadehambre @noyourenotreal @mitty-san @thenoammonster @little-deeluna @royaltrashpanda @sailorbabydoll92@storyweaver2017 @malditamigs @adorabubblesblog @lilms-obsessed@petri808 @anniehcresta @fan-dumpp @itzatakahashi @utakuprincess@theschultinator @all-too-ale @little-inukag-obsessed @theseagullqueen@queenofthesquirps @inusgirl @jolinaaa00 @knowall7k @neutronstarchild@fawn-eyed-girl @eringobroke @sapphirestarxx @clearwillow @dangerouspompadour @anxietyaardvark @bluejay785 @arcprz @whoisresponsible

“Everything in this room is edible. Even I'm edible. But, that would be called canibalism. It is looked down upon in most societies.” ― Tim Burton, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

I really didn’t want to get my bed wet and Miroku and I were both still dripping. He didn’t seem to understand the concept so I broke out of his hold, pushing on his shoulders and getting my feet on the floor. 

Miroku actually swept my legs, knocking me to the floor and jumping on top of me. 

“What the hell!” I said when I got the air back into my lungs. His attack had knocked it out of me. 

“I didn’t want you changing your mind.” He purred back, running his lips down my chest. “I’ve heard so many complain about the test of a woman,” he was at my belly now, his tongue licking my button as he spoke, “but I think you’re going to taste amazing Sango.”

Spreading my legs, I was his puppet and he wore me with his tongue. 

Miroku lapped me up as I came and my head was still spinning when his smirking face appeared over me. “And I was right.”

His tip was pressing at my entrance and I pushed on his shoulders. “I need a minute.”

Propping up on his elbows, he pouted. “Come now Sango dear. I know you have plenty of stamina.”

I laughed, “how? How do you know that?”

“Cause you’ve been running through my dreams for years now.”

I laughed at first but then when I realized it was more than a corny line, I sat up, pushing him back and backing up. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you not think it strange? How without a word we went to each other? Me to you, Inuyasha to Kagome, and Kikyo to Naraku?”

I shrugged, “because we called you…”

“Kagome called us, you sat next to her with a piece of octopus.”

“How…” I swallowed thickly, “how did you know that?”

“Same way we all knew? You’re my soulmate, did you think this was the first time I’d ever seen you?” I shook my head, of course, cause how the hell did they see us before we created them? “You merely called us to you, you didn’t create us.”

“How the hell…”

He laughed, crawling closer to me and my spot on the floor. “I’ve been dreaming of you since you came of age, Sango. Same with Inuyasha and Naraku. I can’t speak for them; seems like Naraku is against Kiky being his mate. But Inuyasha doesn’t seem to be struggling. Not with who his mate is, more like who he is.”

Breathing was a struggle at the moment but at least I could still think somewhat. “So you all know us from what? Dreams? How do you even know they were real?”

“I didn’t until I met you. And you’re more than what I could hope for. More than my dreams… literally.”

Grabbing my ankles, he pulled me along the floor and back into his arms, cradling me to him just before putting us together again. This time, his full weight was on me and I found it was pleasurable in its own way, not crushing or painful. 

But then he sat back, sitting on his heels and taking my hips with him. My skin stuck to the wood floor, making a loud sound that we both ignored. We were far too busy to care, wrapping my legs around his waist to stabilize. And free his hands, arching my back from his dick so deep inside me it was intense, to run over my body. As much as I loved the feeling of his shaft rubbing my walls, I loved his big hands on me more, slowly running them up my belly and across my ribs to cup my breasts. He rolled them around before leaning over and licking my nipples. It forced him to pause in his thrusts but I wasn’t complaining. Much.

“Miroku!!”

He chuckled, “now who’s intemperate?”

I huffed and wiggled my hips. “Still you, fucking me on my floor?”

“Forgive me,” he bowed his head a little, actually looking remorseful and I felt bad for saying anything, “but I’ve been waiting so long to have you that I refuse to wait any longer.” When he popped back up to look at me, he was grinning broadly. “I’m going to make love to you all night long, my dear Sango.”

I watched his muscles flex as he pulled me the rest of the way from the floor and into his lap. Then my eyes went to the ceiling because he was bouncing me on him with his tip banging against my dam. I felt heavy, but he was lifting me without struggle, his cock wiggling inside me and making me feel his lumpy shaft all the more. 

There was no escape, my mind was mush. “Oh GOD, Miroku!!!!”

I was falling, grabbing onto his neck and squeezing as I squeezed him, my pussy tightening to choke his dick. He just slowed his movements while I pulsed around him. When we stopped completely, he was biting my neck and coming, the vein on his shaft making him jump inside me. 

It was bedtime for me, feeling every bit the exhausted girl I should be after three orgasms. Pulling myself from Miroku was as tricky as always but he was tired too, thankfully. I wrapped a towel around myself and tossed one to Miroku, still on the floor.

“I’m going to take another quick shower before bed, okay?”

“Why?”

Flat out on the floor, he looked me over in confusion and want while the towel I threw remained unmoved. A pile of white on top of his junk. “I want to wash your spunk out of me and the sweat off.”

“Why?” I rolled my eyes but he sat up. “We’re not done anyway.”

I really didn’t think I had it on me to go again. Not now at least. “There is a thing as too much, you know?”

“Oh ho ho, not when it comes to you, Sango.”

Oh shit, he wasn’t kidding. Getting to his feet slowly was my saving grace, making it out my door before he could knock my feet out again. I liked sex and sex with Miroku was on another level, but there was only so much I could take in an HOUR!

He was on my heels but I made it to Kagome. “Did you just get out of the shower?”

“Kagome you have to help me, he won’t stop.”

She was alone in bed but things were off. I thought I saw Inuyasha in the kitchen but I was rushing too much to really look.

“Sango!” I didn’t have any time to think about it, my time up as Miroku grabbed me.

“Miroku! Listen to Sango!!”

For the second time, I was amazed. Because Miroku listened to Kagome just like Naraku had earlier. This was definitely going to be handy in the future, Miroku focusing on me and listening. “I need a break!”

“But… I want more…”

“So do I but I need to rest at least a little bit!!!”

I also wanted to cuddle. As much as I wanted to figuratively make love all night, I really couldn’t handle literally doing it. Forget the physical aspect, I didn’t want to be used even by my soulmate. I needed to be shown some love if he wanted me to continue. 

Kagome was out of the room and I really hoped Miroku had enough respect to not try in her bed. So I pushed him back a little, towards the door. “I just want you to hold me a little.”

His beautiful smile made my knees weak. “I can do that.”

It was the small squeak that alerted me, turning from Miroku and our destination to the frozen Kagome. She just stood there with her mouth hanging open. I followed her eyes and found myself in a similar position, Inuyasha lip-locked with Kikyo in the kitchen. 

When did she even get here?? I grabbed Kagome and pulled her away, forcibly turning her from the scene while the two finally broke apart. Inuyasha’s eyes landed on us and looked confused. Especially when he noticed the tearful Kagome in my arms. “What the fuck is going on here?!”

oOo

I didn’t care that it was late, all the more reason to force my in if I had to. I was surprised when my knock got answered after the first try and relieved when it was Inuyasha that answered the door. 

“Oh, hi Kikyo.”

He was purring, clearly happy to see me. I was happy to see him too, still in the clothes I left him in and nothing out of place. I wasn’t too late. “Sorry it’s so late but I really needed to talk to you.”

“Me?”

I nodded and followed him as he moved to the kitchen. He was searching the cabinets for something, coming across the glasses before being satisfied. “I want to talk to you about… you and me.”

He turned from the tap, filling a glass with water, and cocked a black brow up at me. I forced my eyes to stay on his face instead of his ears, they creeped me out. But they weren’t his fault, Kagome did that to him. 

“I think… I know you  and I would be happy together.”

His rich eyes dulled a little and left my face. Then he turned off the tap and set down the glass, slowly. “Kikyo… that’s not how it works.”

“Why not?! I want you, not Naraku!”

“Yes you do, you’re just being a hog, wanting more than you need.”

Ignoring the crack in my heart at his words, I stepped closer to him. He turned to face me and stepped back but I wouldn’t let him escape. “Prove it. Prove to me that we don’t belong together. That you belong with Kagome.”

“Feh, I can’t prove that…”

“Kiss me.”

He slowly shook his head, unsure. I just knew, knew if we kissed he would see. That it would break Kagome’s hold on him and fix everything.

“If you kiss me, it will either prove that I’m wrong and we’ll feel nothing or it will prove me right!” He hesitated with an answer because he was nearly mine with my logic. “Look at it this way, it’ll make you better. It will assure you of your feelings.” He still wasn’t sure so I played on his earlier feelings. “And it will only make you a better kisser. The more people you kiss, the better you get at it. Kagome will appreciate you working hard to make her happy.”

His ears popped up at that. Damn, Kagome’s spell on him was strong. All he cared about was pleasing her and it made me sick. Were Naraku and Miroku the same? Kagome’s playthings she sent our way to distract?!

I wasn’t going to let him think it over as he would be struck by Kagome’s hold for sure. Stepping up again, I grabbed the locks that hung over his shoulders, hiding his lack of human ears, and pulled him down to my height. 

The instant his lips touched mine, I knew this was right. I was breaking Kagome’s spell. He was letting me do this, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth and licking it. He liked it, his hands going to my hips and gripping them hard. But then he gently pushed me back and grew pale. He wasn’t looking at me though, he was looking behind me. 

I had a feeling what it was and Inuyasha’s fear had to be from Kagome possibly sending him back to where he came from. Taking him away from me. And Kagome’s tears were from getting her spell broken, not any real feelings for the man in front of me. 

She didn’t feel what I felt for him at all. 

“What, the actual fuck, is going on here?!” Sango screamed, gripping Kagome tighter. Always her protector. 

“I’m just making things right. Aren’t I, Kagome.”

Sango glared at me for speaking when she just asked for an answer. “What the hell does that mean?!”

Kagome pushed from Sango but looked at the floor. She was guilty, otherwise, she would be able to look at me. “She knows exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Kagome?” Inuyasha asked, his voice pained. 

Glancing back at him, I saw the hurt on his face and it hit me and I turned my fire onto Kagome. “Oh god, you slept with him?!!”

Sango gasped and started to charge but Miroku held her back. “You slept with Kagome and then kissed Kikyo? Jesus, Kikyo could you taste Kagome on his lips?!”

I didn’t care about Sango. She had never really liked me. I focused on Kagome who was closed off completely, arms over her chest and glaring at the door. “You took advantage of him.”

“I didn’t…”

“But you did! He didn’t know what he was doing.”

“Excuse me?!”

Sango was still screeching, she had no clue what was going on. Inuyasha was still by my side and that spoke volumes. If I was wrong even in the slightest, he would be running to her now, wouldn’t he? No, Kagome had used her spell on him to get what she wanted. But I had freed him of it with a kiss. Just like the fairy tale.

“Inuyasha, let’s go.” I moved towards the door and when he didn’t follow, I turned back. He was staring at Kagome but she refused to look at him. “She doesn’t own you or control you. You are nothing to her now.”

His eyes stayed glued to Kagome but moved towards me now. Inuyasha was so scared of what Kagome would do to him for leaving her, he wouldn’t take his eyes off her. She may have used her spell to seduce him but she wasn’t the type to hurt physically. Kagome would never hurt me or anyone like that.

I grabbed Inuyasha’s hand and pulled him the rest of the way out of the silent apartment and the silence followed us all the way to my place.

oOo

“What, the actual fuck, is going on here?!” 

Sango had me in her hold before I could blink the image away. She thought she was sparing me but it was too late, I had seen enough. My own soulmate, the guy I’d just slept with, was kissing my best friend in my kitchen.

I Iet Sango continue to shield me because I feared what I wasn’t seeing. Was Inuyasha holding Kikyo still? Stroking her back or holding her hand? “I’m just making things right. Aren’t I, Kagome.”

My stomach turned, thinking instantly of my control over the boys. Miroku, Inuyasha, and Naraku all did as I told them without question many times now. 

“What the hell does that mean?!” Sango screamed, not understanding.

I was going to puke on Sango, so I pushed her away. But like hell, I was going to look at the two of them. Kikyo might be right about my control but that didn’t mean I had to look at the happy couple while they chewed up my heart. 

“She knows exactly what I’m talking about.” There was venom in Kikyo’s voice like all of this was my fault. But I guess it was wasn’t it?

“Kagome?” 

I could hear the hurt and confusion in Inuyasha’s voice and it nearly broke me. If I told him, would he tell me that he never wanted to sleep with me?

“Oh god, you slept with him?!!”

Sango was about to throw down, “you slept with Kagome and then kissed Kikyo? Jesus, Kikyo could you taste Kagome on his lips?!”

“You took advantage of him.” Kikyo spat.

“I.. I didn’t…” 

“But you did! He didn’t know what he was doing.”

“Excuse me?!”

I didn’t! I made sure not to say anything to him! He did it all of his own free will. Didn’t he? I wanted it, wanted him more than anything because… I loved him. From the moment I saw him I knew I loved him but felt it was stupid and crazy. Had my love forced him? He wasn’t pushing Kikyo away, he wanted her. And she didn’t have any control over him, all his feelings were his own. 

He didn’t want me, he wanted Kikyo.

“Inuyasha, let’s go.” I could feel his stare on me but I couldn’t look at him. If I did, I might beg him to stay and then he would. He was under my control so I said nothing. “She doesn’t own you or control you. You are nothing to her now.”

The door clicked and my heart broke, a sob coming as a result. “What are you doing? Stop them!!”

Sango was gunning for me now, angry tears flooding her face while sorrow flooded mine. “He should be with her. He wants her.”

“Bull shit! Kikyo just wants as many men as she can get! She is a greedy little glutton and she wants you to be miserable! She wants you to need her, Kagome! So she took the only person you needed more. I demand you go after him right now!!!” 

Miroku grabbed Sango and pulled her back while I escaped to my room. My bed was still a mess from where Inuyasha and I made love. If that’s what you can call it. The sheets would smell like him and I knew it but I still crashed face-first into them and breathed deep. I was the glutton, not Kikyo. 

A glutton for punishment.

[supernatural-book]

Second Chances

Title: Second Chances

Pairing: Gadreel x Reader (my first not sam, cas or dean fic!)

Word Count: 1,591

Summary: Gadreel is trying to get the boys to trust him, and while they don’t, the reader believes they should give him a second chance, and stands up for him during the conversation. Gadreel isn’t used to people seeing past his mistakes.

A/N: Hey, sorry if it’s not all following canon. It’s been a while since I watched this season, but I really wanted to try to put the reader into the show, and so this is kind of changing the canon plot. Oh well. Also, this is unedited. I’ll check in tomorrow to reread it, but I’m about to pass out.

Over your years with the boys, you've met many different people- seeing people come and go after hunts were over was part of the job, but you're never met someone quite like this angel. All the angels you have encountered, with the exception of a select few, were completely royal dicks. But this angel whose name had only recently been revealed to be Gadreel, was different.

You knew his story. After learning who he was, you sat with Cas, listening to him tell you Gadreel's whole, infamous tale. You couldn’t imagine the guilt he must feel after what happened. He’d spent thousands of years in Heaven’s prison after being tricked by Lucifer and letting him into the Garden. He’d been dishonored, and his mistake had led to Humanity being corrupted. And now, once God’s most trusted, he stood before you asking for redemption.

“You don't trust me, fine. I understand. I've...made mistakes. But haven't you? Haven't we all?” His words struck a familiar chord inside you. You have made mistakes. What were you thinking, about to deny him his chance at redemption, when you had been in his shoes before? Your arms uncrossed, your stance relaxing. He looked back and forth between the boys, and his eyes settled on you for only a moment longer. “At least give me a chance.” You exchanged glances with the boys. None of them seemed to care, but you stepped forward.

“I’ll give him a chance.” The three of the boys looked over to you in shock, as if they couldn’t believe you would even consider. Gadreel locked eyes with you, and you could feel a wave of pity wash over you. He truly meant well, you could tell.

“Really?” Dean sounded as if you had just betrayed him. It hurt you, but you believe in second chances. You turned to Dean.

“How many times have you or Sam or Cas fucked up or worked for the wrong person, and needed a second chance? Hell, even a third chance! Why is it any different now?” They boys exchanged glances.

“He lied to us. He told us his name was Ezekiel!” Dean raised his voice, and you stood taller, defending your ground.

“Of course he did! If he would have said he was Gadreel, you would have never trusted him in the first place! Sam would probably still be in the hospital! Remember when Cas lied to us? Or what about recently when you lied to Sam about what was happening in his own body? How is anything we’ve done any better than Gadreel lying about his identity?” Dean took a step towards you, furious now.

“He’s working for Metatron!”

“He was. And he wants to help us now!” You glanced at Gadreel, who nodded in response. “Think of how much help he could be. He already helped Sam get better and he resurrected Cas and Charlie for fucks sake! I think he deserves a second chance.” The boys seemed to relax, only slightly.

“What about what he did to Kevin?” Sam forced the words out. You took a shaky breath.

“Well, that I won't forgive. I can't. But I'm sure he regrets that.” Dean still didn't seem pleased with this answer. It's the mark. You told yourself. Dean would normally be more open to giving people another chance. He saw Gadreel kill Kevin, and now the only thing that matters to him is that Gadreel pays for it. “Guys, you always say you trust my guesses. It’s like, my sixth sense. So trust me this one time.” Finally, Cas stepped forward.

“I agree with (Y/N). Gadreel truly wants to do the right thing.” Silence settled in the bunker while Sam and Dean considered this. You smiled at Cas, thankful that someone was finally hearing you. It felt like another million years before Sam sighed.

“Alright, (Y/N), I’ll trust you.” You smiled, and looked over to Gadreel. He was watching you with a look of pure thankfulness in his eyes. You almost melted seeing the man who was so desperate to be redeemed that he was willing to risk his life. Suddenly, all eyes landed on Dean. He still didn’t look happy, but he took a step towards Gadreel, holding his hand out in what you assumed to be acceptance.

You assumed incorrectly.

It all happened so quickly. With Dean holding Gadreel’s hand tightly in his own, he lunged forward, revealing the First Blade. Before you could even process what was happening, there was a large gash in Gadreel’s torso, and he was stumbling back. “Dean!” Sam and Cas rushed forward to stop him from inflicting any more pain onto the angel. They held Dean back, and you cringed at the feral noises he was making. Sam looked at you and nodded in Gadreel’s direction. Knowing that Sam and Cas had Dean under control, you turned to help Gadreel, but were shocked to find out he wasn’t there. Your first instinct was to follow the bloody handprints on the wall. He must have stumbled outside, holding the cut on his chest in pain.

You picked up your pace and exited the bunker. There was no way you were letting him get away. Not after building up your trust like that.

“Gadreel!” You called as soon as you came in contact with the world outside the bunker. You heard quiet grunting and saw him leaning all of his weight onto the tree not far from the entrance of the bunker. “Gadreel.” You reached out to him, supporting him and lowering him to the ground slowly. “Cas will come out and heal you, don’t worry.” He looked up at you, his eyes full of awe, as if he couldn’t believe someone was being nice to him. After a few moments, he opened his mouth.

“Why did you come after me? Why do you trust me?” You paused, thrown off by the question. How do you answer to something like that? Here he was, lying injured in the grass and asking you to explain the reason you found a way to give him a second chance. Asking you to bear your heart to him. You sat down on the ground next to him.

“Will you be okay until the boys comes out?”

“I will.” He was obviously in pain, but there wasn’t anything you could do at the moment but wait for Cas to come out and heal him.

“Well, um, to answer your question…” You met his eyes and found it difficult to hold eye contact. “I think you really do want to help us. And I believe you deserve to redeem yourself.” He didn’t say anything, so you continued, your hand absentmindedly playing with the string of the hoodie he wore under his jacket. “I don’t think the events that you were punished for were your fault. I don’t think you deserved that.” You waited for a few moments and he still didn’t respond. He watched you in silence with soft green eyes. You couldn’t pinpoint the emotion behind them, but what you could see was surprise and a hint of awe. “Please say something.”

"You really believe I am innocent? You do realize that the blame for all of the world's sins can fall on me, do you not?”

“Well, I wasn’t there, of course. But, from what I’ve heard, it sounds like you were manipulated. So yes, I don’t think you deserved the sentence you received. The boys may not believe me, but I’ve seen you heal my friends, hell, even animals! You’re a good person, Gadreel.” He was quiet for a few moments, but this time it was different. Whereas before it was a troubled, awkward silence, this time he looked happy. “I believe in second chances..”

“(Y/N).” You took in the way his lips pronounced your name, realizing it was the first time he had spoken directly to you. “I am wholeheartedly thankful.” He spoke with the same polite, serious tone he’d always used, but there was something different there. Something more intimate. As if there was a friendship sparking between you two already, as if you had finally gotten him to open up to you, as if he felt like someone finally cared for him. It was sad to think about, but after thousands of years in prison, he must have lost faith in himself. He must have come out craving redemption, and had forgotten what it feels like for someone else to finally care about him. “Now I promise you, I will not let you down.” You smiled.

“Good.” Before you could say anything else, Cas and Sam came out. Cas kneeled next to Gadreel and reached out to heal the injured angel.

“No. Your Grace. Healing me will only weaken you.” Gadreel pleaded. You smiled. You were right, and almost felt like turning to Sam and saying ‘See? He is good.’ But for now, you’d just keep it to yourself. You gave Gadreel a hand and helped him to his feet, and he lent you a smile smile in appreciation. It warmed your heart to see him show happiness. Ever since you’d known him, he seemed to only think about redemption, honor, and the mistakes he made. You were glad you were able to lift the weight from him. There was so much more you wanted to tell him, so much more you wanted to teach him about human customs, so much more you wanted to do with him. But unfortunately, there were more important things at hand right now. Maybe tomorrow you’d hold his hand more. Even give him a hug.

You smiled. Yeah, tomorrow.

+

+

+

Taglist!

@thecurlyhairedwinchester, @solis200213, @music-lockscreen, @bella-ca, @totally-not-gadreel (here ya go!)

[inyournightmares97]

How to Be a Heartbreaker

Four simple rules to follow to break a persons’ heart. Should be easy enough, shouldn’t it? After all, it’s much easier to be a heart-breaker yourself than to have your heart broken. 

Warnings: Language, angst, one description of sexual assault (not rape). 

Word Count: 7.2k+

Based off the song How to Be a Heart-breaker by Marina and the Diamonds

(Unedited, I literally wrote this entire thing in a single sitting and now it’s 2 am so please forgive me, I’ll edit later. I don’t feel entirely sane right now.) 

This is how to be a heartbreaker

Boys they like a little danger

We’ll get him falling for a stranger,

A player,

Singing I lo-lo-love you

The lights at the club were terrible. You could barely see anything and you were practically tripping over your large heels as you climbed the stairs to the VIP area. You went out clubbing with your girlfriends often but tonight was a little different. Mina had recently met one of the city’s largest businessmen through work and he had invited her to bring her friends to one of the newly opened clubs in which he owned a stake. It was the sort of place you couldn’t get into with just money… you needed influence and apparently the men who owned this club had plenty of it.

“Wow, this club is amazing,” one of your friends cooed as your group entered the less crowded VIP area. It was still extremely dark but the music was pumping loudly. You raised an eyebrow at the terrible choice in music; why were they playing a song that was almost a decade old? But your friends were all gaping around in amazement. It wasn’t often that you got to come to the opening of the hottest new club and enter the VIP space. “I can’t believe we’re here; this is literally the hottest place to be in the city right now.”

You rolled your eyes. “You girls must be joking.”

“You don’t like this place?” Mina wondered.

“It’s not that bad. But the lighting is terrible considering that the floor has some stupid patterns carved into it; does nobody think about the fact that women need to walk here in heels? And I haven’t heard this song since I was ten years old. Somebody needs to fire this DJ.”

A deep, amused chuckle sounded behind you. You froze in your steps as you felt someone walk up to you from behind and caught a whiff of expensive, tantalizing men’s perfume. The voice made your entire body shiver as it spoke. “I’m sorry you feel that way. There’s nothing more important to me than making sure women are comfortable in my club,” he drawled. “Welcome, ladies.”

You whirled around to see the most beautiful man you’d ever met.

He was almost entirely dressed in black with silver hair falling into his dark eyes. You had never seen such an angular, perfectly shaped face or such luscious, pouty lips. They turned up into a smirk as he folded his arms across his chest lightly and introduced himself. “I’m Bambam. The owner of this club that you don’t seem to be particularly enjoying yourself at.”

Mina stepped forward flustered. “Hi. I’m so sorry. We were invited here by Jackson Wang-“

Bambam chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours despite addressing Mina. You had to admit that his dark gaze sent a tingle down your spine. You knew the sort of mind games men played and you knew that he was trying to get you flustered with the unwavering eye contact. His voice was low and smooth as he cut Mina off. “Oh, I know. Jackson is one of my investors. He should be around here somewhere, he never fails to find the ladies. But I have to ask. Did you mean what you said about the lighting and the DJ?”

You stared back at him, refusing to break eye contact. “I never say anything I don’t mean.”

“That’s a little upsetting,” Bambam admitted. One of his hands came up to rub his chin and you couldn’t help but notice how large they were; long, slender fingers that looked like they knew what they were doing. He chuckled when he noticed how your gaze had drifted down to yours hands. “I spent a lot of money on modelling this club and on hiring the best DJ. If my patrons aren’t enjoying themselves then something should be done about that. Don’t you agree?”

You smirked. “Some better music would make for a nice vibe.”

“In that case, would you ladies excuse me for a moment? I’m going to go see what I can do about the music. Please; have your first round of drinks on me.”

You rolled your eyes as he walked away, leaving you and your friends alone. One of them grasped your arm and squealed lightly once he was out of earshot. “Oh my God! Do you know who that was? That was Bambam! He’s that super successful model who quit his career a few years ago and became a businessman! He owns like, five or six clubs in the city, a bunch of restaurants and a seven-star hotel!”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes, thank you Miss Wikipedia.”

She blushed. “I read an article about him in a magazine the other day. He’s one of those eligible bachelor types. How exciting! It’s like meeting a celebrity!”

“Stop embarrassing yourself. He’s just a rich man and not an actual celebrity,” you told her. Although you were unwilling to admit it, Bambam had aroused your interest. Nothing pleased you more than putting men who thought they were the shit in their place. “Now, come on. He says he’ll pay for our first round so everyone go order the most expensive thing the bar has. Let’s see how much money this guy is willing to spend on us.”

Tonight would certainly be fun.

--

Bambam returned fifteen minutes later. You smiled to yourself when you saw him scanning the crowd and you knew that he was looking for you. You had found a seat alone by the bar while most of your friends had chosen to either dance, or chat up a group of handsome men nearby. You didn’t move or react to Bambam; you just crossed your legs in order to expose more of your thigh in your risqué dress as he made his way towards you.

“How do you like the change in music?” he asked you, pouty lips twisted into a small smirk as he leaned against the bar.

You sipped your drink calmly. “It’s definitely better. What did you do?”

“Fired the DJ and had him replaced,” he told you.

You raised an eyebrow. Despite looking like a proud man in his expensive clothing and with his smoldering charisma, there was a hint of childishness in Bambam. You were in no doubt that firing the DJ had been a little stunt to impress you. You could see it in his eyes. His insecurity, and his need to inspire awe in other people.

“Interesting,” you commented lightly. “I suppose it’s a relief that you managed to find another DJ but I think if you’d really put some thought into your club then you wouldn’t have hired the first one at all.”

Bambam’s eyes wavered. He licked his lips before letting out a small chuckle and stepping a little closer to you. His leg was now brushing against your knee. You could feel the expensive fabric of his pants against your bare skin. “Wow, you’re not easy to please, are you?” he asked. “Not to worry, I like a challenging woman. Can I ask you to join me for a dance since the music has improved? Or maybe you would like another drink first?”

You smirked. “Depends. Are you buying?”

Bambam chuckled. “I’ll buy as many as you can drink.”

“And I’ll drink as long as you can keep up,” you replied with a smile. “How does that sound to you, Bambam?”

Bambam wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he was completely enraptured by you. Most women either threw themselves at him blatantly or avoided him because he had a reputation for being a player. He had never met anyone like you; cool and confident, your words made you seem unimpressed yet your eyes were dangerously seductive. You were a challenge. A challenge that Bambam had to work for but he was fairly confident that the fruits would be sweet at the end. Women like you were never a disappointment.

“All right. What do you want to drink?”

You licked your lips. “Whisky. Neat.”

He couldn’t help but laugh in surprise. Wow, you were unpredictable. “Going straight for the hard liquor, are we? All right, then. Don’t get too drunk though, I’m hoping to get a dance out of you before the night is over.”

You smirked. “Let’s see if you’re up for it after the drinks. I’ll have you know that I have a very high tolerance for tequila.”

Bambam chuckled as the bartender bought you two glasses of whisky. He clinked his against yours before lifting it up to his lips. You lifted your own glass and let the alcohol burn down your throat, finishing it in one gulp. He seemed a little surprised and mildly impressed when he saw you set your empty glass down and order another one.

“Have I underestimated you?” he wondered.

“I’m afraid you have.”

--

You loved the pleasant buzz the alcohol gave you and you smirked while watching Bambam get progressively drunk. He was trying to keep up with you, drink-for-drink, but you could see how his eyes were becoming slightly unfocused and how he kept running his fingers through his hair. He kept making the silvery strands messier with each stroke. His cheeks were flushed slightly red.

“Are you seriously still sober?” Bambam asked you with a laugh as you gulped down drink after drink and merely smacked your red lips.

“Aren’t you?” you teased. “I’m not even close yet.”

“I don’t believe you. Come here and walk in a straight line,” he insisted, gesturing towards a small empty space in front of the bar. You rolled your eyes and stepped down from the barstool, landing neatly on your feet. You walked over to the other end of the bar and then strutted confidently back towards Bambam. You made sure to swing your hips seductively and you saw his intoxicated gaze scanning your body as you finally stopped a few inches away from him and flipped your hair back. You blew him a small kiss with your hand and then took your seat on the barstool.

“See? Perfectly sober. And I’m in heels.”

Bambam’s eyes had clouded over with lust. You could tell that the alcohol had an effect on him and whether he was only now realizing how attractive you were or whether his inhibitions had only now dropped, he stepped closer until he was inches away from you. His pouty lips were close to your own as he whispered. “That was a cute little show you put on, there.”

You blinked innocently. “Show? I was just showing you that I was sober.”

He chuckled. His voice rumbled deep in his throat as his warm breath tickled your skin. “And somehow, miraculously, you are still sober. But if I have another drink then I might not be able to control myself. I might just lean in and kiss those pretty lips of yours. So you tell me if we should have another drink or not.”

You smiled and leaned closer to him, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. His gaze drifted down to your fingers as you stroked the front of his shirt. “I don’t kiss strange men in public,” you told him in a low, soft voice. Your lips were close to his neck but you never let them touch his skin. “I like to be wined and dined first. So you can have as many drinks as you want, but I won’t be going anywhere with you tonight.”

You expected that he would look disappointed, but to Bambam’s credit he only smiled.

“In that case, let me take you out on a date. Next week?”

You leaned back and looked at him, the challenge in his eyes present. No. You never let the man set the terms. Everything had to be on your own terms and at this moment, you suddenly decided that you didn’t really want to go on a date with this Bambam person. He was a little too pretentious and childish for you and you merely bit your lip and leaned back.

“I’ll think about it. If you’ll excuse me, I believe my friends are leaving…” you said, climbing down from the barstool. You were surprised when Bambam gently grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Wait. You haven’t given me your name or your number or anything. How will I find you again?”

You smiled and then leaned up, moving closer to his face before giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. You let your lips linger on his skin for a few moments so that he could inhale the sweet scent of your perfume and then you pulled back.

“Let’s trust fate, shall we?” you suggested cheekily, before walking away to rejoin your friends. Bambam watched you leave with his eyes fixed on you as his gaze darkened. You were much more of a challenge than he’d originally anticipated and he decided that he had to have you. Nobody in their right mind would lose a woman like you.

Rule number one

Is that you gotta have fun.

But baby when you’re done,

You gotta be the first to run.

--

Bambam found you in less than a week.

He was waiting outside your office building as you exited after work, and you spotted him instantly. It was difficult not to. The man wearing what was clearly a designer suit and leaning against a sleek black sports car was attracting attention from almost everyone on the street. Dark glasses were covering his eyes and he lowered them when he spotted you.

“Hey beautiful,” he called out to you with a smirk. “Have a nice day at work?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He really thought he was smooth, didn’t he? You folded your arms across your chest and nodded. “I did, I had a lovely day actually. And let me guess… you just happened to have some work right outside my office? Is this meeting pure coincidence?”

Bambam chuckled. “Not at all. I realized after you left the club the other night that I don’t like leaving things to fate. Fate isn’t how I made my fortune. I control my own fate so I decided to come and see you. It wasn’t particularly difficult. You signed your name on the VIP sheet at the club that night and Jackson told me that the girls he invited all worked in this office.”

“Wow. Excellent detective skills.”

“You’re laughing at me. I don’t actually mind,” he told you lightly. “In fact, I rather enjoy making people laugh. The question is whether you would be willing to come and have a coffee with me right now. I know a place where they serve an excellent expresso.”

You shrugged. “Coffee doesn’t sound too bad.”

Bambam smirked and held the passenger side door of his car open for you to get inside.

--

Bambam took you to a small café that he owned. You were surprised that he chose such a cute, humble-looking place for what was evidently your first date but he answered your questions before you could even ask him.

“This was the first business I ever opened,” he told you with a smile, as he pushed your chair in for you and made sure you were comfortable. The café had a very cute aesthetic with patchwork quilts on the walls and little artistic sketches framed around. The entire place smelled heavenly, of freshly-made coffee. “I opened this place with the savings from my modelling work a couple of years ago. I could have expanded it, but I chose to leave it as it is and open up other business ventures instead. Not many people know about it.”

“It’s very homely,” you admitted as Bambam picked up the menu.

“Do you want anything in particular?”

You placed your chin in your hand and batted your eyelashes at him seductively. “I think I’ll let you chose for me. Surely you must know what’s good here, if it was the first business you ever set up.”

Bambam smirked. “You won’t be disappointed.”

You weren’t. The coffee tasted amazing and Bambam was surprisingly relaxed. He seemed extremely different from the suave, rich club owner that you’d encountered the previous side. There was a fun, lighthearted and childish side to him that you saw as he joked with you and let loose. You encouraged him to open up; asked him questions about his family and his early modelling career. Bambam admitted to you with a laugh that he had once dreamed about being a singer but he’d ended up a model because of his height and body structure.

You exchanged stories in that cute, cozy little café all evening and got to know each other. You told Bambam a few things about your own life; about your work and where you’d grown up. You kept the stories lighthearted and funny and Bambam listened to you with a lot of interest. Now that you weren’t under the dim, colorful lighting of the club, Bambam looked surprisingly cute and friendly. He even took off his glasses after a while and his eyes were soft as they smiled at you.

“I’ve never enjoyed talking to a girl this much,” he admitted almost shyly, once you had both finished your coffee. “Do you want to get a refill or..?”

You bit your lip. “I have work in the morning. I should probably get home.”

“Right, of course. Let me drive you.”

You followed him out of the café, letting him put his arm around your shoulder as he led you to his car. You were surprised that he didn’t even attempt to ask you to invite him up to your apartment when he dropped you off outside your apartment. Bambam merely gave you a hug goodbye, his arms lingering around your waist briefly as he bit his lip.

“Here. Take my number,” he told you. He handed you his business card with his personal phone number scribbled on the back. “And let me know the next time you want to go out clubbing. I’m willing to challenge you to a few more drinks.”

You laughed and took the card. “I will. Bye, Bambam.”

“Bye.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek lightly, giving him a sweet smile and a cute wave as you disappeared into your apartment building. You took the elevator up to your floor and then peeked out of the window in the hallway; Bambam was still standing on the sidewalk beside your building and smiling to himself stupidly. 

You turned and tossed his business card into the trashcan.

Rule number two

Just don’t get attached to

Somebody you could lose

--

You sighed as you stretched back in your stiff desk chair. Your boss had been pushing you to work longer hours this week and you were exhausted. There was no way out of it; you were due for a promotion to a rather attractive management position soon and you didn’t want to risk your chances so you worked about twice as hard as everyone else. It was getting dark outside when Mina came to your office and grinned.

“Hey, Miss busy bee. Are you staying late again or do you want to go clubbing with us tonight?”

You sighed and looked at the pile of work on your desk. It needed to get done but your brain simply refused to work. You could stay here all night and it probably wouldn’t get done. You needed a break. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come and get a few drinks with you girls tonight,” you replied. It had been a while since you’d last gotten out.

“Oh, good. Because the last couple of times the girls and I went clubbing without you, Bambam looked extremely disappointed,” she teased you with a giggle. “He came up and asked us why you weren’t with us. How the hell did you get a hunk of a man like that wrapped around your finger? He looks like a downtrodden puppy when you’re not there.”

You rolled your eyes. “Getting a man’s attention is easy. Keeping his attention once he knows that you’re interested in him… now that’s the problem.”

“Whatever. Hurry up and don’t be late. Bambam will be delighted to see you.”

--

The club was even more crowded than the last time you’d been here; business was clearly picking up but it didn’t matter to you. You and your friends headed straight to the VIP section courtesy of Bambam, who had put all of your names on the list permanently.

You saw a few of the bouncers whisper to each other as soon as they saw you. One of them went running off to the back room and emerged a few moments later with Bambam in tow. You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself. Had he really told his bouncers to keep an eye out for you? It was both flattering and cute of him. Maybe Mina was right; Bambam was more interested in you than you’d originally anticipated.

Lovely.

“So you finally showed up,” Bambam commented before he joined you, taking a seat on the sofa. His arm came up around your shoulders smoothly and you allowed him to scoot closer to you. He smelled wonderful and you let yourself relax against him. Bambam’s lips were pouting slightly. “You never called even though I gave you my number. I was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.”

You giggled. “You’re not the kind of man a woman forgets easily, Bambam.”

His chest swelled up with pride and his arm around your shoulder tightened. His fingers gently stroked the exposed skin on your upper arm as he angled himself towards you completely. Bambam’s dark eyes were fixed on you and you knew that he’d been waiting for you to come back ever since your little coffee shop date. You could see how attracted he was to you; it was practically written across his face.

“Knowing you, you probably want a drink,” Bambam guessed with a smile.

You giggled. “Then you clearly know me very well.”

“Stay put. I’ll bring you something I just had added to the menu. If you like it, I’m thinking I might just name the cocktail after you,” he teased you, his thumb coming up to stroke your cheek gently. You merely blinked as Bambam stared into your eyes longingly for a moment before finally tearing himself away from you and going to the bar to bring you the drinks. He returned with two cocktail glasses.

“This one remind me of you,” Bambam told you with a smile, handing you the colorful swirling drink. It had tones of dark red and light pink and it had an odd taste; both sour and sweet with a sort of tangy edge to it. He smiled as he watched you sip it. “It tastes sweet one moment and then bitter the next; there’s both a soft cotton candy pink and a dark, seductive red swirling in it. A little bit like you.”

You chuckled. “Oh? Do you really see two such contrasting sides in me?”

Bambam leaned closer to you and placed his thumb on the corner of your mouth. His voice was low as he spoke. “It’s the way you smile,” he whispered softly. “When both your lips curve up like this in a genuine smile then you look adorable; like the most innocent and pure woman in the world. But then you turn those same, gorgeous lips down a little bit into a seductive smirk…” Bambam’s thumb gently brushed against the corner of your lips. “And all I want to do is devour them.”

You looked up into Bambam’s eyes in surprise. There was more emotion there than you expected to see. Had this man really fallen for you? You had assumed that a rich, conceited man like him would never fall for a woman so easily. But he seemed to be wearing his heart on his sleeve. Had nobody taught this poor, innocent man to guard his heart more carefully?

You reached up and gently pushed his fingers away from your lips. “You’re ruining my lipstick,” you told him with a teasing smile.

Bambam chuckled. “And you’re ruining the mood.”

“Well, perhaps the mood wouldn’t mind picking up after I go to the bathroom and fix my lipstick?” you asked with a small smile. You placed a hand on Bambam’s leg lightly before you stood up. His arm dropped off your shoulder reluctantly as he nodded.

“Hurry back,” he told you gently.

You smiled and nodded. “I will.”

You exited the cordoned-off area and hurried towards the bathroom. To be honest, you had suddenly started feeling a little uncomfortable. You had no intention of falling for someone like Bambam. The scars of your past were too fresh for you to even consider ever letting a man into your life. You always kept your guard up, never let yourself fall for someone who could potentially break your heart. The brief happiness that came from being in love wasn’t worth the heartbreak.

But you were doing the same thing to Bambam.

You had assumed that he was just as thick-skinned as all the other rich, self-obsessed men that you met and interacted with, but Bambam was different. He had a soft and sensitive side that wasn’t even buried that deep within him; it simmered just underneath his surface. Should you be playing around with a boy like that? Should you let him continue to fall for you despite knowing that you would never let him into your heart?

As you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you didn’t like the woman who looked back at you. This had gone deeper than you intended.

This needs to end.

You took a deep breath and re-applied your make-up and fixed your lipstick and your dress. You would walk out there and leave. It was better if you never came back to this club again no matter how much Mina and the other pestered you. Bambam wasn’t the sort of person to harass you. Maybe he would track down your phone number and call you a few times but even he knew that you had never promised him anything and so he would let you go even if it hurt him.

Yes. You can do this. Let’s not take things too far.

You walked out of the bathroom, but your heart sank into your stomach as a pair of hands grabbed at you. You opened your mouth to scream but a large hand came down over your mouth and shoved you against the wall. Your head throbbed from the hard contact and you looked up, your vision slightly dizzy from your impact with the wall. A strange man was standing over you with a lecherous grin as he grabbed at your body with a gleeful laugh. “I knew I’d find one of you tarts if I hung around the bathroom. Come here, darling.”

You panicked and struggled desperately, your eyes widening. This man was much too strong for you and you felt your heart sink. Is this seriously happening to me? Am I about to get raped in the middle of a crowded club? Your heart was thudding in your ears as the man tugged at your dress. You heard a ripping sound and you struggled even more, the adrenaline pumping through you. No, no, no, please…

You closed your eyes and sobbed as the man grabbed you more roughly. You had pepper spray in your bag but you’d dropped it somewhere in the struggle and your mind wouldn’t let you consider what your other options were. Tears streamed down your face as you felt the front of your dress rip off. You tried harder to scream.

Suddenly, the hand on your mouth was lifted off. Somebody had ripped the man off you and you were suddenly free. You wrapped your arms around yourself, sinking down to your knees with your back against the wall. Your eyes were blurred with tears but you could see what had happened. A pair of bouncers had appeared but Bambam was the one who was punching the man in the face.

“You-fucker-how dare you!” Bambam spat as his right fist met the man’s face again. One of the bouncers was holding the man down while Bambam hit him, his eyes furious with rage. “Don’t-ever-touch her again, do you hear me? Do you fucking hear me, you piece of filth?”

None of them were looking at you. You took a deep breath and tried to calm down your racing heartbeat. You’re okay. You’re fine. Nothing happened. Your dress is a little torn but nothing happened. Get yourself together. You shakily got to your knees and clutched the front of your dress to your chest to cover yourself completely. A few more deep breaths and you had finally straightened your shoulders and managed to stop the trembling in your limbs. You wiped the tears away from your eyes. 

Bambam finally stopped punching the man and yelled for the bouncers to drag him to the police. He turned towards you, taking off his jacket and handing it to you while averting his eyes from your body. You accepted the heavy black jacket and slipped it over your arms, buttoning it up so that it would cover your exposed chest. Once you were one, you turned and saw Bambam watching you.

“Are you okay?” he asked you gently, his arms reaching out towards you but stopping before he touched your shoulders. “Did he hurt you? Do you need to sit down? I’m so sorry that happened to you. I told the bouncers to be careful around the women’s bathrooms but one of them must have stepped aside for a while.”

You cleared your throat. “I’m fine, Bambam.”

Bambam didn’t look like he believed you. “Really? Are you sure? That man was scary.”

You laughed him off, although your voice sounded alien even to you. Your fists were clenched tightly to help you hold yourself together but you slipped your hands into the pockets of the Bambam’s coat so that he wouldn’t see them. You forced a fake smile onto your face. It looking surprisingly natural; fake smiles were pretty much the only way you ever smiled anyway, and Bambam wouldn’t notice the difference.

“I’m really fine, Bambam. He shook me up a little but I’m okay.”

Bambam reached out to touch your face hesitantly. When you didn’t flinch away from him, he cupped your cheek softly. “Are you sure? Look, you don’t have to pretend in front of me. I know that was terrifying, I would have been terrified too. If you need to talk to someone or… or if there’s something I can do… should I go get your friends? Let me call Mina down here...“

You pushed his hand down before he could lift his phone to his ear. “No. I’m seriously fine, Bambam. I’m just tired because I’ve had a long day at work. I don’t want to ruin the other girl’s fun but I think I want to get home and go to bed. Can you just let them know that I’ve left? I’ll catch a cab-“

Bambam shook his head. “No, I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t need to-“

“Please. For my sake. Just so that I know you’re safe. Let me drive you.”

You forced another smile and let Bambam lead you out into the parking lot, where he helped you into his car. He kept looking at you and you could tell that he was worried about you but you kept your face emotionless. You weren’t going to break down in front of Bambam. You weren’t going to break down in front of anyone. You weren’t going to show a man your weakness and let him think that he needed to protect you from something.

As long as Bambam was watching you, you would pretend to be fine.

Rule number three

Wear your heart on your cheek

And never on your sleeve

Unless you want to taste defeat.

--

Bambam kept asking you if you were all right the entire car ride to your apartment. You were flattered by his concern but you answered his questions simply and without much fuss. After a few cold responses from you he fell entirely silent. But you could see him out of the corner of your eye, constantly checking to see if you were all right.

“Can we play some music?” you asked finally, deciding to break the awkward silence.

Bambam nodded and you fiddled with the music system in his car a little bit, before settling on a radio station that was playing a bright and upbeat song. It helped you relax and even Bambam calmed down once he was convinced that you really were okay. You made a casual joke about the lyrics of the song playing and Bambam chuckled, agreeing with you.

“I really did have a nice time tonight,” you reassured him. “The cocktail was lovely. I’m sorry it didn’t end very well.”

Bambam raised an eyebrow. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who should be sorry. I can’t believe I let something like that happen at my club. I never even imagined that an establishment that I set up could be used by disgusting men like that to get their hands on women. I’ve never been more ashamed in my life and I swear, I’m going to increase the security.”

You nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“But I really should have done it before that happened to you, right? It’s too little and too late,” he muttered. His fingers were gripping the steering wheel tightly and his jaw was clenched. You could tell that he was extremely angry with himself. “I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place. God, I’m such a mess. How am I ever going to manage this mess?”

You blinked at him. “Bambam, it’s fine. I won’t talk about it to anyone, your club won’t get any bad publicity.”

He looked at you incredulously and you could see the anger in his eyes; no longer directed at the man who had assaulted you but at himself. “I’m not worried about the fucking publicity! I’m worried about the fact that the woman I care about got hurt in my club and I don’t know if you’re ever going to forgive me for this. Fuck. I told myself that I would treat you like a princess if I could ever get a woman like you to agree to be mine and then I let this happen.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “O-oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Bambam apologized to you sincerely.

“I-it’s fine. I don’t blame you. Really, I don’t.”

Warning bells were screaming in your mind as you got out of the car and it was getting harder to hold yourself together. You bit your lip so hard that it almost started bleeding. Bambam refused to leave, insisting on riding the elevator up with you and dropping you off at your door. Your entire body was tense and when you finally reached the front door of your apartment, you turned and smiled at Bambam.

“Thank you for tonight, Bambam,” you told him softly.

Bambam stared down at you. His eyes were piercing into yours. You could see him trying to read you, trying to figure out what was going on in your mind. After a few seconds of tense silence he finally dropped his gaze. “No, don’t thank me,” he mumbled. “Just… just stay safe and call me if you need anything.”

You nodded. You stepped closer to him and leaned up, giving him a soft, lingering kiss on the lips before stepping back and smiling. “Good night, Bambam.”

Rule number four

Gotta be looking pure

Kiss him goodbye at the door

And leave him wanting more, more

--

As soon as you closed the door behind you, you felt yourself fall apart.

You leaned against the wall and sank down to your knees, sobs racking your chest. You weren’t even sure what you were crying about. Your palms had nail marks on them from how tightly you’d been clenching your fists and you simply let the tears flow down your face.

Your entire body felt dirty and disgusting. You could still see the man who had assaulted you in front of your eyes and you felt pathetic. Why hadn’t you been able to stop him? How could you have been so helpless and let yourself fall prey to a man like that? You felt hollow and pathetic. You should have been able to defend yourself. You’re so pathetic. What’s the use of a human being who can’t protect herself in this world? You felt scared and lonely as you choked out sobs.

Not only did your body feel disgusting, but you realized how much you hated yourself. How could you let yourself appear so weak in front of Bambam? He had gotten too close to seeing the real you, the vulnerable you that you struggled to hide from the world. Playing with him had been a stupid idea. You should have just stayed as far away from Bambam as you could. No matter what you did, in the end, you were the one who got hurt.

“Fuck.”

You heard Bambam’s low whisper and looked up to see that he had re-entered your apartment. You had forgotten to lock the front door and his tall, slender figure was standing in front of you. His eyes widened as he looked down at you pathetic, sobbing mess crouching on the floor.

“Fuck, I should have known you weren’t okay. Come here.”

You had no power left to resist. You let Bambam wrap his arms around you tightly. He hugged you to his chest and held you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as your sobs calmed down. You felt safe in his arms despite the creeping, unnamed, terrified feeling deep in your heart. But as Bambam looked at you with his soft, gentle eyes and his lips whispered comfort in your ear, you couldn’t remember why you had to be scared of this man. His eyes looked just as vulnerable as yours, his hands were shaking the same was yours were.

You leaned up and kissed him while hoping to forget. Bambam kissed you back through your tears, his arms stroking your back in a gentle, comforting motion. He was strong and he held you up as you both stumbled into your bedroom, your knees weak and your mind blank. You let yourself melt under Bambam’s warm touch as your mind shut off and your body was left to take over your senses alone.

At least when you were in someone’s arms, the pain was a little more bearable.

--

You woke up with a warm body beside you, and to the sound of gentle snoring.

Bambam looked extremely peaceful in his sleep. Rid of the expensive clothing and the Rolex watch and with his messy silver hair flopping into his face, he looked like an innocent young boy and not like the rich business tycoon that he was. Your head felt heavy even though you hadn’t had any alcohol the previous night. You stared at Bambam’s bare face pressed against the side of your pillow for a few moments, a small smile gracing his pouty lips.

Then you got out of bed.

Honestly, you felt a little lost and helpless. What were you doing? How had you allowed yourself to sleep with Bambam last night? Something was muddling your brain and making you incapable of coherent thought. You brushed your teeth silently and then snuck out of the bedroom. You wrapped a robe around yourself as you went to the kitchen and stared at fridge.

You stopped straight in your tracks, feeling as though someone had dumped ice cold water on you.

There, on the fridge door was a single picture. It was held up with a small magnet and it was larger than the average picture because you’d had it blown up intentionally. Ordinary women deleted pictures of the men who’d broken their hearts because they couldn’t bear to look at them. You had done it too; you had cleared your entire phone gallery of years worth of memories with the man who had broken your heart and left you a shattered, sobbing mess.

Except for this one picture.

This picture you’d printed out and had enlarged so that you could stick on your refrigerator every day and look at it. To an outside, it was an ordinary picture of a rather handsome man but it meant so much more to you.

This was the face of a heartbreaker.

You looked at it every single day to remind yourself of the pain a single man had caused you. To remind yourself that even the kindest, sweetest and most noble men would leave you in a heartbeat if they were bored of you. That nothing lasted the test of time. Not love, not affection and certainly not a pair of kind eyes or a soft smile. The nicest men were the ones who pierced the hardest. None of them were to be trusted. They’re all heartbreakers, at the end of the day.

Bambam was no different. He might seem genuine and caring and innocent now, but you had also thought all these things about the man in the picture in front of you at one point. You had truly believed that he was the one for you but he had left you. So would Bambam, so would they all.

At the end of the day, it was much easier to be a heartbreaker than to suffer at the hands of one.

You heard the soft padding of footsteps and a small yawn as Bambam entered the kitchen and blinked at you sleepily. He leaned against the counter and gave you a soft smile, his silver hair a mess on top of his head and his eyes barely open as he squinted at you.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he greeted you in a scratchy, sleep=filled voice. “What are you doing?”

As you tore your eyes away from Jinyoung’s picture, you felt your entire mind clear once again. The cloud had been lifted and finally, you knew exactly what to do. You were not going to have your heart broken once more. 

You raised an eyebrow at Bambam calmly. “I think the question should be what are you doing here.”

Bambam blinked. “Sorry?”

“This is awkward. I was hoping you would have left by now. I mean… you really should have snuck out in the early hours of the morning so that we could have avoided this awkward encounter. I’m not in the habit of having breakfast and coffee with my one-night stands.”

He stared at you for a long moment. You blinked back, refusing to avert your gaze from his. As he stared back at you, you saw it through your eyes. You saw the exact moment that Bambam’s heart broke, that his eyes widened and realization set in. You watched in cold silence as your figurative knife pierced his chest and struck the soft, sensitive organ inside. Bambam stared at you for a long moment  

“I see,” he whispered. “I guess I’ll leave now, then.”

“That would be best.” 

--

Girls, we do

Whatever it will take

Cause girls don’t want

We don’t want our hearts to break in in two

So it’s better to be fake

Can’t risk losing in love again, babe

--

[quillerqueen]

Ink In Your Veins

Prompt 17 of @oqpromptparty. Ink Heart AU. Whenever Regina reads a story out loud, characters come to life. She vows never to read out loud again.  One day she comes home to find Robin Hood in her son’s room. Henry confesses that he shares her strange gift.

Unedited because I’m on holidays with limited time and resources - apologies for any mistakes.

###

Regina Mills had vowed a decade ago to never use the gift she’d been cursed with ever again.

Ten years–to a dot. Ten years since her fiance died, all because of her and the power she wields. There would be no more victims.

Ten years since her little prince was born, and two weeks later he’d enter her life and change it forever. She’s given him everything, poured into him all the love she had in the entirety of her battered and bruised heart. Everything but one thing.

She’s never read him a story.

And now he finally knows why.

Regina looks from her son’s startled face to the book in his lap, a well-loved copy of The Adventures of Robin Hood, then to the man by the window with his bow drawn and arrow pointing in their general direction.

“Mom, I swear I didn’t mean to,” Henry blurts out, “I don’t even know how it happened. He just–he just sort of appeared out of thin air!”

“I believe you, Henry.”

He sighs in relief, hugging her back when she loops an arm around his shoulder. Thank god he’s all right.

Then she turns to the archer, green-clad and frowning, his eyes like a stormy sky studying her with less hostility and more curiosity than he has a right to.

“Now if you would please just stop aiming that thing at my son,” Regina says, “I will explain everything.”

He doesn’t take unkindly to the hint of bite in her voice, but lowers his bow an inch or two.

“Forgive me, milady–I’ve just been snatched from my tent and deposited in your home out of the blue. Surely you can understand my caution. But I promise I’ve no intention of harming your boy.”

“Mister–Mister Hood,” Henry chimes in, sliding off the bed and moving to stand beside Regina. “I’m sorry. I think I brought you here. I just don’t know how.”

This is it, then. Time for the truth to come out. She’s not sure she’s ready–but she also doesn’t have much choice.

“Henry,” she sighs, guiding him back to the bed and sinking down next to him because this might get long. “There’s something I never told you.”

So she tells him. About her gift and her curse, about how pages come to life to the mere sound of her voice, about how she could never partake of the simple pleasure of reading her little prince a bedtime story.

Their visitor remains at his spot by the window, his eyes alert and ever on her when she glances his way. By the time she’s finished, he’s lain down his weapon.

“And I have the same ability?” exclaims Henry, who’s been listening with rapt attention. “This is so cool!”

Regina tries to keep a straight face despite the sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach. She can hardly begrudge Henry the excitement after all–she used to be the same. And it’s led to horrible things.

“I know it is. But it’s also dangerous. Robin Hood, well, he’s a hero. But villains can come over too, and all sort of creatures. Your father–” They’ve always referred to Daniel that way, even though he’d died before the adoption was completed. “He got in the way of the Queen of Hearts, and it cost him his life.”

She’s never said those words out loud before. It breaks her heart in whole new ways to see Henry’s face fall as it sinks in.

“Is that why you never told me?” He frowns. “About your gift? You didn’t want to use it anymore?”

“Exactly. Now,” she takes a generous gulp of air and smiles her encouragement. “Why don’t you go ahead to the kitchen and make us all some hot chocolate? We’ll be right there.”

Henry regards her then their guest with narrowed eyes, and rises to pad out of his bedroom and downstairs. Soft clinking noises from down below fill the momentary silence.

“So I’ve been magicked here by your boy.” Robin Hood shakes his head, breathing a small, incredulous chuckle. “I suppose it could’ve been worse.”

“Could it?” The answer to that question, in Regina’s experience, is always yes; but the man’s cavalier attitude irks her. “Does this sort of thing happen to you often?”

“Not exactly, no.” He seems to catch on to the tension seeping into her words, and mitigates the impact of his sarcasm-coated words with a half-smirk that tickles in her belly. “I’m more used to being hunted and betrayed left and right to the sheriff’s lackeys. I thought at first this was his newest trick; but you’ve only treated me with kindness so far–and a thinly veiled threat when I potentially threatened your child, which I daresay was perfectly justified.”

“You jump to conclusions rather quickly,” she teases back in an effort to banish, or at least hide, her worries–especially if he doesn’t share them. “One drink offer and you throw caution to the wind?”

He places a hand over his heart in a dramatic show, and who knew Robin  Hood had an affinity for theatrics?

“Ah, but do you intend to administer poison? I beg you to reconsider–I’m a hero after all.”

Regina rolls her eyes, secretly amused.

“And much too cocky for your own good. There goes my admiration for the Prince of Thieves. Oh how easily those pedestals crumble.”

He laughs at that, warm and deep from his belly. He has a good laugh. It pulls a smile out of her in turn.

The smell of hot chocolate lures them downstairs to discuss the next steps.

“How about this then?” He takes a careful sip, eyes blowing wide as he hums his approval much to Henry’s amusement. “Is this magical? Because if this sort of thing is common in your world, I am rather partial to it. No sheriff, no royal overlords, contraptions that do the work for you–I’d be tempted to stay if I didn’t miss my boy to bits already.”

“You’re a father?” they echo together.

Robin smiles, bright and adoring.

“Does your book not mention that? His name is Roland, and he’s been the light of my life for four years now.”

Guilt churns in Regina’s stomach. Other risks aside, a father and son have been separated, and it’s all her fault. This wouldn’t have happened if she’d only just told Henry the truth in the first place. But how could she have known they share these peculiar powers?

“We need to get you home.”

“Or,” Henry cuts in, bouncing in the chair, “maybe we could get Roland here instead! That way we get to meet him, and you won’t miss him so much while we look for a way to fix this.”

“Henry, I know how much you like Robin Hood, but this is not the time–and Roland isn’t written into your book, I don’t see how that would even work.” But that’s not entirely true–she’d done it before, written into the margins of pages in red ink and watched the words come to life just like the original text.

Unfortunately for her, Robin favours Henry’s way.

“The young lad has a point, actually. Roland would be safer here, what with Nottingham loose in Sherwood and me not there to defend the camp.”

Thud.

The air in the kitchen freezes.

A series of dull thuds and feet shuffling resonates from upstairs.

Someone is sneaking around the landing.

“Henry,” Regina mutters as Robin makes a quick job of notching an arrow to his bow, “what story were you reading when Robin popped up? Was the sheriff of Nottingham in it?”

Henry nods.

“Get behind me,” she whispers and grabs the baseball bat from the corner.

Robin Hood stands beside her, arrow at the ready, as the steps come ever closer. Regina grips the wood and exchanges a glance with the man whose presence, though very much part of the problem, oddly calms her erratically beating heart.

“An honour to fight alongside you, milady.”

Despite the adrenalin coursing through her, her grin comes easily in response to his own.

“And you–thief.”

The steps still just outside the kitchen door; the enemy is upon them.

Here we go, then.

[impalaimagining]

Springsteen

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: You met in high school, then he left. Over ten years later, he’s back, and it’s like nothing has changed. 

Word Count: ~1,780 (plus lyrics at the end)

Warnings: drinking, implied smut, fluff, this is completely unedited and it’s almost 1am so forgive me

A/N: Written for @jpadjackles‘s 1,000 Follower Celebration! This is written from Sam’s POV.

*Memories are in italics, and they’re not exactly in chronological order, so I apologize if that’s confusing.

Sitting in the bar, another late night after wrapping up a hunt, someone rolled a quarter down the jukebox and picked a song. Of course it had to be that song. Our song. Dean noticed the change in my demeanor, no doubt. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I finished off my beer and stood to get another.

That was when I heard it. No way, it couldn’t have been her. What would she be doing here? In this exact bar, this exact night? It was a Wednesday!

But it was. It was her voice lulling me back into all those nights we spent sitting on the back of the Impala, the speakers blasting that old Springsteen cassette Dean kept in the glove box. Springsteen was her dad’s favorite, so when she lost him to those vamps, she couldn’t stop listening to Born in the USA. 

“You want somethin’ or are you just gonna stand around all night?” Her voice filled my ears.

She was the bartender. I snapped back to reality, to the present, just long enough to order another beer. Then my mind faded to black, forgetting everything but the way the flame from dad’s old lighter bounced off her eyes, reflecting every color I’d ever known. Her sunglasses - the ones she bought from the discount rack at the drugstore - always held her hair back from her face, which I loved. I always saw those eyes, all the colors that whirled around in them, the shades of the same colors, the twinkles of different colors that peeked through when the light hit them just right.

“Your beer.” She tapped my hand.

Clearing my throat, I couldn’t help but get goosebumps when our skin touched again. After all those years, after the way I just disappeared, there was no way she’d know who I was.

“Thank you, [Y/N].” I practically whispered.

Something in her snapped then, like the pieces finally clicked together. A spark ignited behind her eyes, and I knew she knew. She remembered those three months we’d spent together, singing to one another, our voices echoing into the thick summer air.

We were in high school. The summer before my senior year. A case pulled us into town, of course. This time, though, we got to stick around. Dad said he needed some down time, just a week or two. But then he found a job - a real job - at a garage in town. Dean and I actually had a chance at something normal.

I met her at the grocery store one day. Dad sent me out to get stuff for dinner. I told him I didn’t need a list, I’d remember it all, no problem. Then I ran into her - literally - in the freezer aisle. I had barely gotten anything from dad’s list when we met. I forgot the rest of the list. My mind was wiped of everything but her in that moment.

“Sam...?” Her voice took me over again.

“Yeah.” I gave her a shy smile, not knowing how this would go.

“Sam Winchester.” She sounded more sure this time.

“It’s me.” I lifted the sleeve of my t-shirt and revealed her name on my shoulder.

We were reckless; we’d never felt more free. The night after I got that awful tattoo, we sat in town until the sun came up. The cops rolled up and told us we had to go home, that it was against town law to be out so late when we were so young. I drove the long way back to her house. Every minute I got with her was perfect. It was way past her curfew, and dad would probably kill me for coming home within an hour before he had to be up for work, but it was worth it.

That was the night she asked me to stay. I can still hear the way she said it. “Don’t go,” like her life depended on me staying with her that night. We snuck up to her room and spent the night together. She made me promise I wouldn’t try anything, her mom was in the next room, after all. After a few too many kisses and an uncomfortable strain in the front of my jeans, I managed to keep my promise.

Her mom found us the next morning. [Y/N] was in so much trouble. The look on her mom’s face when she saw the tattoo was priceless. We didn’t care, as long as it meant that we’d be together until the ink faded away. 

She stepped out from behind the bar and threw her arms around my neck. I was surprised, to say the least, but I set my beer on the bar top and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She still felt the same. A little more physically mature now, but mostly the same.

“What are you doing here?” She pulled back and looked up at me, those eyes pulling me in again.

“My brother and I were working in town.” I glanced over at Dean, who was staring with a confused expression.

“You work in town?” She shook her head in shock.

“Just - just um, for a few days. We’re heading out tomorrow.” I rubbed the back of my neck nervously.

“Oh.” Her hopefulness faded quickly.

“But uh, maybe I can talk him into an extra day or two.” I gave her a smile.

“I’d like that.” She returned it.

That smile was the one I’d fallen in love with when we were seventeen.

We had the top down on my old Jeep, the clear sky showing us every star it had to offer. Born to Run was playing softly while her head laid on my chest. I had one hand propped behind my head and the other was running over her arm, keeping her close to me.

“Sam, if I tell you something, promise you won’t freak out?” She looked up, and she seemed nervous.

“I promise. What is it?” I sat up a bit to look at her fully.

“I - I’m in love with you.” Her voice was so soft, barely audible over the music, but I heard it.

“Me too. I love you too.” I sat up completely, bringing her with me and holding her face with one hand.

I leaned in and kissed her. Her lips moved in tandem with mine, her kiss always sweeter than any candy I’d ever eaten. We couldn’t stop. Her hands pulled at my shirt, my fingers pushed into her cut-off jeans, and that was it. We found ourselves tangled up in one another, falling in love for the first time, both of us making love for the first time.

That’s when it became our song.

“Who’s your friend, Sammy?” Dean walked over and clapped his hand on my shoulder before shooting her a fake smile.

“Oh, uh, this is [Y/N].” I couldn’t help but blush.

Of course I’d told Dean about her. She was the first girl I’d ever... been with. 

“[Y/N]... like the [Y/N]?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“You must be Dean.” She reached out a hand toward him, and he shook it. “Heard a lot about you back in the day.” She laughed lightly.

“Yeah, hah, me too.” He shot her a wink.

Dean glanced at me and saw the look on my face, silently telling him to leave us alone, please.

“Hey, well, I’m gonna get goin’. Call me when you want a ride, Sammy.” Another shoulder clap and he was gone.

“So that’s Dean, huh?” She giggled and rolled her eyes.

“That’s Dean.” I sighed.

“My shift is over in ten minutes. Let me actually work until then and I’m all yours after, ‘kay?” She smiled. 

How could I say no? All I’ve ever wanted, everything I missed about love was standing right in front of me, asking me to be with her again.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” I planted myself in one of the many empty barstools and sipped my beer until she was done working.

In almost exactly ten minutes, she was sitting next to me, drinking the same drink she always used to sneak out of her mom’s kitchen. I had to laugh at how little she’d changed. We talked, mostly about her, which was fine. I missed her. God, I missed her, so just listening to her voice was the best thing I could’ve done that night.

Well, almost.

We went back to her house and spent the night just like we’d spent so many back when we were kids. Rolling around in the sheets until the sun started peeking through the windows. She was just as beautiful as I’d remembered, still just as passionate a lover.

Dean gave us the two days I’d asked him for, but once that third day rolled around, I knew we’d have to leave.

“Don’t go.” She said it again, that same desperate tone in her voice.

Looking at Dean, waiting by the Impala for me, he saw the hurt in my eyes. How could I leave her again? He knew she was my first love, and he knew how much love I’d lost since her.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” I walked to the car. “Dean-” I started.

“Don’t, Sammy. Just stay. You’re happy. You deserve to be happy.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

I knew he didn’t really want this.

“Dean, I-” I was cut off again.

“No, listen to me. It’s always been me taking care of you. You’re grown now, Sam. You don’t need me to look after you anymore. Go get the girl.” He reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. “Lisa lives a few towns over. I’ll be there if you ever need me.” He pulled me into a hug.

We clapped each other on the back a few times, tears welling in both of our eyes. We’d never gone our separate ways before. But we knew this was our chance. If we ever wanted to get out of the life, away from the “family business,” now was the time. I had the woman I loved, and Dean fired up the Impala and headed off to get the woman he loved.

“Take care of yourself, Sammy.” He called as he waved out the window to [Y/N].

“You too, Dean.” I waved and watched the car that I called home disappear. 

I had a new home starting that day. From the first morning I woke up next to [Y/N], I knew I could do this for the rest of my life. 

When I think about you I think about seventeen I think about my old Jeep I think about the stars in the sky

Funny how a melody Sounds like a memory Like a soundtrack To a July Saturday Night Springsteen

Forever Tags: 

@petrovadixon @abbirae99 @cyrilconnelly @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @sandlee44 @mysteriouslyme81 @arctickristina @spontaneousam @smoothdogsgirl @aingealcethlenn @love-kittykat21  @plaid-lover-bay25 @randomthings077 @supernaturally-writing @everythingintensifies @just-a-touch-of-crowley @thegreatficmaster @devilgirlsarah @spnstarships @elliewinchesterr @punkrxckrat @therewillbeblood @thewhisperingfox @jensen-jarpad @mamaredd123

Sam Tags: 

@eccentricsammy @cleverdame @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @arryn-nyx  @growningupgeek @i-just-wanna-live-gc @ohmychuckitssamanddean @revwinchester @tas898 @carbonated-beverage  @brewthespirit-blog @immawinchestersgirl13