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falcqns · 3 years

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Mute

Pairing: Chris Evans x Mute!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris for the first time and he doesn’t know you’re mute. All hell breaks loose.

Warnings: angst, chris being an accidental asshole, fluff, sebastian stan being protective

A/N: I based this on a dream I had, as well as my experience with being a selective mute from 2017-2020, and how I communicated and who I spoke verbally to. Hope you enjoy!

Sebastian was shocked when he met you in pre-production for the first post-endgame Marvel movie, and you didn’t speak, instead nodding and using hand gestures that he later deciphered to be sign language. He knew that you were fairly new to the industry, and so approached Joe Russo.

“Hey, Joe. I just had a question about the new girl, Y/N?” He asked, while watching you walk of with your PA next to you. “Sure, what’s up?” Joe responded.

Sebastian cleared his throat before continuing. “I tried talking to her a little bit, but she didn’t speak, instead she used sign language, and I just was wondering if you knew why? Just so I can be better prepared and know how to help her,”

Joe smiled at Sebastian’s request. Being the insanely caring person that Seb was, his question didn’t surprise him. “She’s a selective mute. She does talk, but it is only when she is acting, and she’s an amazing actor. She mentioned to me that she doesn’t speak verbally unless she is very close to the person and trusts them wholeheartedly, such as her family and best friends. Her PA is her best friend, and can help you communicate with her. But, other than that, just get to know her. She’ll probably open up to you.” Joe finished, before patting Seb on the back, and walking off to talk to some production people.

Sebastian looked in the direction that you had gone, and decided to talk to you. You may not communicate verbally with him, but he wanted to get to know you.

Over the next few weeks of pre-production, both Sebastian and Anthony got to know you, and both were insanely shocked when you performed your first scene with them. You delivered your lines like you had been talking all your life, and with the gravity of an experienced actor. They both congratulated you, and you signed “thank you” in response. If any one had any doubts about your skills as an actor before, they had fully dissipated.

When it had been announced that production would be moving to the UK, Seb approached you and Mackie with the idea of renting a place together. You had agreed instantly, glad that you wouldn’t be living on your own in a foreign country all alone, especially since Y/B/F/N couldn’t come along. Living with both boys was chaotic to say the least, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. They gave you the biggest bedroom in the house, and began learning sign language so you wouldn’t have to carry your ipad everywhere for your text-to-speech app.

A few weeks in, you began to speak verbally to both boys. They were shocked when you spoke to them for the first time, but were insanely happy. Seb was almost in tears, recalling that you only spoke to those who you trusted whole heartedly. He had become insanely protective of you, and treated you like a sister, which you absolutely loved.

Everything was going great. That was, until Chris Evans showed up.

He had just finished filming his latest project, and decided to come and visit his two closest friends that he hadn’t seen in a few months. Mackie had mentioned that he was coming, and would be staying in the spare bedroom, and you foolishly assumed that he would tell Chris about your mutism.

But Mackie being Mackie, he didn’t. And neither did Seb, who also thought Mackie had told him.

You hid in your room when Chris arrived, not ready to face him at that point. You ventured out just after dinner time, and grabbed a plate of food before retreating back into your safe haven with the cover of working on an assignment that you had told to Seb. They bought it, and you and Chris made eye contact and shared a wave before you disappeared from sight.

A few days later is when all hell broke loose.

Chris seemed to have a habit of searching you and Seb out. It started off with him walking into our bedroom while Seb was talking to you, and admiring how you’d decorated the place. Yo gave him a small shy smile, which he returned, although there was a hint of confusion written all over his face. Then, you were asking Sebastian for clarification on the Romanian lines that you were supposed to speak the next day, when Chris wandered in to the kitchen. He noticed how you instantly fell silent, and whispered a thank you to Sebastian before you scurried past him. How watched your back retreat, and sighed, but grabbed his the beer he came for before walking into the living room.

It was later that night that you had decided that you wanted to talk to Chris. You hadn’t known him very long, but you felt very safe around him, and everyone had told you how trustworthy he was. You had spent the last 30 minutes hyping yourself up in the mirror before walking out on a journey to find him. You heard his voice floating from the kitchen, and as you got closer, your heart instantly broke.

“I just don’t get what her problem is with me.” You heard Chris say. Another voice, Seb, responded.

“Chris, I don’t think she has a problem with you,”

Chris scoffed. “Yes she does. Why else would she not talk to me, and rush out of a room quicker than she entered when I walk in? She has a huge problem with me. I don’t know why she thinks that just because she got a part in a movie that she can walk around all high and mighty, but I’ve done nothing to her. She’s being a bitch,”

You heard Seb exclaim and start to defend you, but you didn’t stay to listen to what he said, instead running back to your room in tears, your confidence shattered. You grabbed your iPad and apple pencil, and began to draw, an activity that let you communicate your feelings. You wanted to show Chris that you didn’t hate him, and that you didn’t think more of yourself just because you got a part in a movie.

You finished it right before dinner, and kept it in your grip tightly when Mackie called you down for dinner. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you made your way down the stairs, but your face fell, and eyes welled up with tears when you saw Chris wasn’t there.

“Is Chris coming to dinner?” You asked Seb, and he shook his head no sadly.

“No. He’s not in the best mood, but dont worry, he’ll be fine.” He said, as he grabbed his plate.

“Oh, okay.” You said, your voice coming out shaky. You looked down at the ipad in your hands, before walking out the kitchen. Seb followed behind you. Just before you reached the stairs, he gripped your arm, causing you to turn around.

“What’s wrong?” He asked sincerely, and you couldn’t hold back the tears.

“I-I heard h-him talking about m-me earlier,” You whispered, and Seb cursed before pulling you into a hug.

“You heard him,” He said. You nodded before speaking again.

“I drew him a picture and I wanted to give it to him to show that what h-he said wasn’t t-true, and that I’m actually a huge fan of his,” You sobbed into his chest. Seb didn’t move, but waited for your tears to subside, before walking with you upstairs.

“He’ll come around. He had a rough night, although that doesn’t excuse his behaviour. I’ll talk to him, okay?”

You nodded, and curled up in bed. “Do you want me to bring you up some dinner?” Seb asked, and you nodded again, before telling him what you wanted.

He left the room, and came down the stairs. he plated the food that you wanted, and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge.

“What happened?” Anthony asked from the dining room as Seb passed.

“She heard what Evans said, and she’s heartbroken. I’m bringing her dinner, and then I’m gonna talk some sense into that motherfucker.”

“Good, he needs it.” Anthony agreed, watching as Seb walked away.

Seb dropped the food off to you, before walking across the hall to Chris’s room. He answered after the first knock.

“What’s up?”

“First of all, you’re a grade A asshole, and second of all, you need to go apologize to Y/N.” Seb said, anger bubbling in his voice.

“Why? She hates me, I’ve done nothing to her to-“ Chris began before Seb interrupted him.

“SHE DOESN’T HATE YOU!” He exclaimed. “She’s selectively mute, that’s why she doesn’t speak to you! She’s a huge fan of you. She’s in her bedroom, right now, heartbroken, because she heard you talking about her.” Seb finished, his hand pointing at your bedroom door.

Chris felt his heart sink. “Why does she talk to you, but not me?”

Seb sighed. “She only talks to people she trusts a lot, and you met her yesterday. Of course she’s not gonna talk to you right away, and now I’m afraid she never will because you talked bad about her. She drew you a picture in hopes that you would understand that she didn’t hate you, but you broke her heart even more by not showing up at dinner. Now, go and fix it or will not hesitate to call your mother.” Seb finished, before walking away.

Chris sat back down on his bed in disbelief. He’d fucked up, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He thought back to Seb’s threat, before picking up his phone and calling his mom.

You had just finished another episode of Criminal Minds, when a knock came to your bedroom door. You dragged yourself out of bed, and opened the door to reveal Chris. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and kept them locked on the floor, in fear that he was going to yell at you, and repeat his earlier statements to your face.

“I’m sorry,” Chris breathed out. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You slowly moved your eyes up to meet his, and he sucked in a breath when he saw your puffy eyes. “It’s ok.” You signed, and Chris shook his head no, before enveloping you into his arms.

He moved the two of your further into your bedroom, and shut the door behind him.

“It is NOT okay. In any way. I broke your fucking heart, Y/N. I have no excuse for what I said, and I want to make it up to you. Will you let me do that?” He asked, his face buried into the hair atop your head. You nodded and he pulled away from you. You grabbed your ipad, opened up your text to speech app, and typed in a sentence.

“Do you want to watch a movie with me?”

Chris nodded, and smiled, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Of course. You pick.”

You led him over to the bed, and got in, and he climbed in the opposite side. You picked up the remote, and chose the movie “Swat: Under Siege”. Chris wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and pulled you close to him. You cuddled into his chest as the movies opening scene began to play.

About halfway through the movie, Chris tilted your chin up to look at him.

“I really am sorry. I hate that I said what I did. I just- Seb had told me all about you, and I had seen some of the leaked pictures from set, and all I wanted to do was impress you. When I thought you hated me, I couldn’t handle it, and I lashed out. I’m so so sorry about that.” He said, his thumb teaching over your cheekbone once more. “Also, Seb told me that you drew me a picture? Can I see it?” And you nodded.

You unlocked your ipad and opened the drawing app, clicking on the most recent one, before handing the device over to Chris.

His breath caught in his throat while he looked down at the picture you had drawn of him.

“T-that is amazing,” He said, tears coming to his eyes at the picture that you worked so hard to make of him. “You’re even more amazing than I thought.” He finished. “Thank you,” You signed, before thinking of a question.

You grabbed your iPad once more, and typed into your app.

“Why did you want to impress me?” Chris smiled at the sound of the robotic voice coming from the device.

“I was drawn to you. I dont know what is was, but I couldn’t get you off my mind. I had searched and searched to find another tv or movie you had been in, but nothing came up, and I was so shocked that you got such a big part right off the bat. But I was also insanely excited to see you perform. And when Seb and Mackie told me I could come and stay for a while, I was ecstatic to be able to get to know you, and that’s when I realized that I liked you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. Did Chris Evans really just admit to having a crush on you?

“Now, I understand if you dont like me back, but I had to get that off my chest, especially since I just broke your heart.” Chris said, his eyes focused on the tv to not meet your gaze. You gave him a small smile, but grasped his chin into your hand, and drew his lips into a soft and tender kiss.

He let out a breathy moan, and pulled you closer. His lips travelled from your lips, and all over your face, amking you let out a giggle. He started laughing too, and pulled away. “I’m guessing this means that you like me too?” He asked, and you nodded immediately.

He smiled, and grasped your hand in his. “Well then, can I take you on a date?”

You took a deep breath, and opened your mouth. “Yes.”

Chris’s eyes immediately welled up with tears and he pulled you in for another kiss.

“You spoke to me,” He whispered when he pulled apart, a few tears rolling down his face.

You shrugged and gave him a smile.

“I trust you wholeheartedly.”

#chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader fluff #sebastian stan #anthony mackie

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sierraraeck · 3 years

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The Jailbird and the Mouse

Spencer x Fem!OC (Aundreya)

Masterlist

Summary: When Aundreya shows up to consult on a case, Spencer seems less than pleased to see her, but his actions tell a different story. Bonus chapter!

Category: Smut. Hate fuck. Apparently I’m incapable of writing a single thing without some angst, so we’ve got a sprinkle of that in there at the end, too.

Warnings: Cussing. Choking. Nicknames. Degradation. Cuffs are used. Unprotected penetration, female masturbating, oral (male receiving), fingering. Semi-public at the beginning.

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: Okay so this is supposed to take place during How to Lose Friends when they are both in their fresh, post-prison forms and are beyond pissed at each other, but you don't have to have read that chapter or the series to understand this. Also, shoutout to @writing-in-april for looking this piece over and helping me make some edits!

Things to Know: All you really have to know is that Aundreya was a criminal who’d already been to and broken out of prison, joined the BAU, Spencer and her had a previous relationship, Aundreya got Spencer sent to prison, broke him out, then took the fall for something Spencer was being accused of that she didn’t do, getting herself sent to prison again.

I’d been called back to help the BAU solve a case. Fascinating how when it was convenient for them, I held some value. But, after that I was just easy to throw in a jail cell to be forgotten about.

I didn’t want to be there, but unfortunately I didn’t have a choice. So, I closed my eyes, and took a long, deep breath before forcing the door open. I had barely entered the room, barely had made eye contact with Hotch standing opposite me, before both my shoulder blades were shoved against the wall behind me, with long fingers wrapping around my throat.

“What is she doing here?” the hiss in Reid’s voice sounded exactly how I’d imagined it in my head preparing for this encounter. He looked almost as bad as me. His curls were going in a million directions, and I could only imagine the amount of times he’d run his hands through them, probably due to stress. His eyes were blood-shot, slightly puffy, and the dark bags underneath seemed more defined. The only thing that contrasted all of that, and let me know his head was still in it, was the darkness he now held in his eyes. There was nothing lighthearted or soft about them anymore, at least, not for the moment and certainly not for me. Plus, there was a red-hot rage I could see boiling at the surface. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror, a warped version of myself being reflected back to me. I’d seen the same fury and darkness in my eyes every morning that was in his now, and the irritation that radiated off him matched my own. Really, the only difference between Spencer and I, was he still had his gun and badge and I didn’t.

“I was invited to help consult,” I snapped through my somewhat restricted breath. “So you better get the fuck off me.”

He gave my throat one last tight squeeze before stepping back, his intense gaze never leaving me. I met his gaze with a wicked smile while brushing my fingers over where the ghost of his hand used to be. I wanted him to see that he didn’t affect me. Angry or not, he held no power in our dynamic anymore.

“Chambers, good to see you,” Derek mocked, giving me a side eye laced with suspicion.

“Can’t say I feel the same,” I deadpanned, then turning on Hotch. “So, why am I here?”

“We have reason to believe that a rogue gang member is kidnapping and killing ex-military if they refuse to join,” Hotch explained with seemingly no emotion, as if he was unaffected by my presence.

“Cool,” I deadpanned again before asking, “So why do you need me?”

“We wanted to know if you know anything or have heard anything-” Derek started.

“Heard anything?” I cut him off with a scoff, “You mean besides the constant clanging of metal bars when I’m not left in complete silence by myself? No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“Can you find them?” Spencer asked as if it would be a difficult task for me.

“So you do want my help,” I clarified.

“I want your skills.”

I let out a disgusted chuckle in response to his quip. Venom dripped from my words as I voiced my thoughts from only moments before stepping into the room. “Oh, I get it. You only want me around when it's convenient for you. Otherwise you just wanna give up on me and let me rot in a cell.”

“What was I supposed to do!”

“What were you supposed to do?” I asked in disbelief, eyes wide. “What were you supposed to do?” I mumbled to myself again in a mocking tone, rolling my eyes. I put my hands on the back of the empty chair in front of me I assumed had held Spencer at one point, and leaned in toward him. He’d retreated behind the table since releasing me, and I quietly snarled towards him, “I don’t know, but sitting there on your tiny, plushy ass, wasn’t it. I’m leaving.”

Spencer was back over to me in a flash, slamming his hand on the door before I could even reach for the handle. Someone got better reflexes. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“We have a suspect list that we want you to review.” Hotch caught me before I pushed Spencer out of my way.

“Fine. Make it quick.” I looked over the list Hotch gave me that contained about 30 men, none of which rang any bells. “This was a waste of time.”

“Hold on, guys,” Garcia trotted in, “I just found something.” She was in such a rush that she initially didn’t see me, bee-lining it straight for Hotch. Handing the iPad over to him, her eyes lifted to take in the rest of the room. That’s when she noticed me. Her eyes grew to the size of beach balls, and her perfectly done lips hung open. I tried not to feel too hurt, knowing that my presence would come as a shock to her, but it still stung seeing her at a loss for words, possibly even scared. She’d really been the only person who still had any hope left for me, and I was starting to wonder if that was true anymore.

My voice softened as I greeted, “Hey, Penelope.”

She struggled for words, a few ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’ headed my direction, ultimately being saved by Hotch. “Dave, you’re with me. Prentiss, Morgan, I want you to go to the ME, Garcia we’ll need you on call, and JJ, Lewis, I want you to go talk to this man.”

“What about me?” Spencer asked.

“You’re going to stay here and watch her,” Hotch commanded. I started laughing at Spencer’s visible discomfort. Spencer glared at me before opening his mouth to argue, but Hotch stopped him with a voice filled with authority, “I know you won’t be able to focus out there if you know she’s still here unattended. Let’s go.”

When everyone had left and the door shut behind them, I sang, “Well if it isn’t Doctor Reid drawing the short end of the stick, yet again.”

“Just sit down and shut up,” he tried to order with confidence as he took his own advice, sitting as far away from me as possible. Not once had he looked me in the eyes since I’d initially walked in and he had attacked me. Sure, his eyes were on me, but they never connected with mine.

“Is that a demand, doctor?” I challenged him.

“No, but it could be. I just don’t want to be the one responsible for letting you get away.” He shrugged in his chair, resting the ankle of his leg on the knee of the other.

“So you’re just gonna trust me to do what you ask?” I questioned. Throughout the entire time I’d known Spencer, he’d never gotten super riled up over something, but this was a whole different Spencer, one that I didn’t recognize or know . He was more on edge, confident, and clearly willing to wrap his hand around my throat with no hesitation. A type of Spencer I was more than happy to get to know. And let’s face it, I’d been in prison for 15 months. There wasn’t a ton of action going on in there that I wanted to get involved with. I just wanted to see how far I could push him before he snapped. “You don’t trust me, and you know you can’t. I put you in prison, just because I could,” I shrugged, contradicting what I’d insinuated earlier for my own entertainment, “and you think that I won’t just walk away from you when given the chance?”

“You’ve had the chance. For the past three minutes and forty-six seconds you could have left and you didn’t. What’s keeping you here?” he smugly fired back. Oh yeah, he’s definitely going to be fun to mess with.

“What’s keeping you here?” I copied, “Why’d Hotch bench you again? Because you can’t focus when I’m around?”

“No one can focus with you around!” he huffed hotly.

“Not well, but they certainly can do better than what you’re doing right now,” I patronized, “What is it about me that makes you all so nervous, huh? I’m just another criminal who happens to be a former co-worker. I thought you were used to working with those day in and day out.”

“Criminals or co-workers?”

“Either.”

“None of them are like you,” he bit.

“Oh I know,” I ran my tongue over my lips, “So I’ll ask again, what is it about me that makes me so different?”

He looked up at me. In contrast to the first time he locked eyes with me, his expression was stone cold. “You were a part of this team, and you betrayed us. You betrayed me. I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid to believe you were actually helping us! I just want to know why you picked me. You were going to take one of us down, why’d you choose me?” I could see the gears spinning in his head, and was about to answer when he frustratedly added, “Was it because you thought I’m the weakest?”

That’s it. That’s what’s always made him tick. And he used the present tense. We were still an entire table length apart, so I started slowly sauntering toward him. I prodded, “Is that what you think? You believe you’re the weakest on the team? Or do you just think that’s what I thought?”

“We all have our roles,” he responded, but not nearly as confident as he had been before.

“That’s not an answer,” I pushed.

“You still haven’t answered me, either,” he growled, and I decided to let this one go. We didn’t need to fully delve into his insecurities, no matter how much I wanted to.

“It was similar to that. You were the most afraid of me, I could smell it in the air.” I closed my eyes and pretended to revel in the stench of fear. “But, I could’ve gotten any one of them if I wanted.”

Spencer scoffed at that, “I think you overestimate your abilities.”

“I don’t,” I quickly fired back, “I could’ve gotten any of them, and to be honest, I was going to go after Derek, or maybe Emily, but then you spoke up from the corner of the room and I knew it had to be you.”

“Why?”

“Why this, Aundreya, and why that, Aundreya? Is that the only question you can ask?”

“Is it the only question you can’t answer?”

I was about halfway to him now, and decided to give him a little false hope. “I picked you, not because of your intellect, or how the rest of the team coddles you, or how relationship starved you are. I picked you because I could see something in your eyes that was different, something dark. And once I heard your full back story, I realized just how similar the two of us are.”

“We are nothing alike,” he insisted.

“Really? Because had you made one different choice or one thing went just a little bit wrong, you could have ended up just like me, with no family and no one to give a shit about you or what you do, except for the cops who just wanted you locked up and controlled.” I was dangerously close to him now, his head tilted to look at me, but he didn’t cower away. He actually seemed to welcome it. Which reminded me of something, “After knowing all of that, my past and everything I was, you still agreed to let me on your team.”

“I was the last person to say yes to you joining,” he informed me. This was news to me, but I couldn’t even be sure if he was telling me the truth. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be working with us, but I was outnumbered and outranked.”

“No, you caved to their wishes,” I twisted his words to suit my needs, “Like you caved to mine.” I slowly reached down to place a hand on his chest. He eyed it all the way until I made contact with him, and it was like flipping a switch. He grabbed my wrist and held it close as he pushed out of his chair, the wheels spinning it wildly back into the monitor. He reached for my other wrist, which I let him grab, and held me against the wall, arms pinned next to my head. I did everything I could to not smirk. And he’s still caving.

“I didn’t want you here. I resisted the idea of you being around us,” he spat.

“Like you’re resisting the idea of being around me right now?” I arched an eyebrow, scanning him from head to toe, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on a few spots. He opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it again, locking his jaw. I could see his genius mind at work, trying to come up with some way out of the little mouse trap I’d set up for him. I watched his eyes trail down to my lips and neck, soaking it all in. When his eyes met mine again, I tried to reach for him, but he forcefully slammed my hands back, pinning me to the wall again. Though, I wanted him to touch me this time. He was taking too long to make a move for my liking, so I decided if I couldn’t use my arms, I might as well use my legs.

All of his weight was already leaning toward me, so it wasn’t difficult to wrap my right leg around his waist and bring him all the way to me. The moment that they were within inches of my face, I attacked his lips. I was almost disappointed by the fact that he didn’t seem surprised at all, as if he knew how impatient I was and knew that I would force the first move. But, I wasn’t disappointed for long.

Spencer’s whole body was pressed against mine as he quickly swiped his tongue across my bottom lip, looking for entrance. I granted it, but I wasn’t going to give him the complete dominance that he wanted over the kiss. Instead, our tongues slid over each other’s searching for more than the other was willing to give. It was hot and messy, and he released his grip on my wrists, moving them to apply the same amount of force to my jaw. With my hands free, I made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt, ripping it open. I was expecting skin and sighed when I found yet another shirt. This man and his layers.

Spencer took advantage of me sighing, giving him more access to my mouth, which I wanted to be annoyed about, but couldn’t care to be. I decided to make better use of my hands, running them down the sides of his body as he wrapped his behind my back. He pulled away from me so abruptly when I tried to massage him through his slacks, he basically dropped me on the floor. It was like being left out in a cold winter storm, just barely out of arm's reach of warmth.

Spencer shook his head, eyes on the floor, as if that would clear his mind of what clouded it, which was me. But I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “There. You got what you wanted.”

I gaped at him before retorting, “We both know it wasn’t just me who got what I wanted. I’m sure you had a hard time pulling away.”

He glared at me as he rolled the chair back toward the desk and took a seat, “Not really. I have important work to do.”

I stood there staring at him trying to compose himself. His face was red and he tugged at his pants before crossing his leg over the other. I pressed my lips together, but still failed to contain the small laugh that escaped through my nose.

“Sure,” I mocked, “Especially since everyone else on the team is already doing that work for you.” He didn’t look up from whatever papers were on the table, trying in vain to ignore me, though I wasn’t ready to have his attention off me yet.

I shut the folder that he was in the middle of reading, not like he was actually reading it considering how long it was taking him to flip the page, and sat right on top of it. He was about to reach for it again, but retracted his hand at lightning speed when my legs got in the way. I flashed another mockingly sweet smile his way, but he looked out toward the window, right next to the wall I’d just come from. I swung my legs back and forth off the side of the table just a bit, careful not to completely kick Spencer in the shin, though I couldn’t help but let my toes accidentally tap him a few times. As with all of the other times I’d touched him, he moved out of the way, uncrossing his legs with a perfect foot-sized gap in between his knees. I rested my foot in that small gap on the chair, rolling his body closer to me. Then, for no other reason than wanting to feel him squirm underneath me, I plopped down on his lap, my legs straddling his. I pretty much had him locked in his seat.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, a look of complete indifference gracing his face, but I knew it was just a front.

“Just making sure you’re doing your job,” I replied, winking at him.

“And… how do you think this is helping me do my job?”

“I’m making sure you’re paying attention to me,” I whispered in his ear seductively, lacing my fingers together on the back of his neck, “Plus, I’m doing what you asked me to. How did you put it? Sit down and shut-”

Using his thumb and forefinger, he pinched my cheeks and brought my lips to his forcefully. The kiss was just as hungry as the last, teeth clashing and tongues furiously fighting. He moved his long fingers onto my hips with a bruising grip, which I had absentmindedly started grinding against his. He pulled away from me for a moment, and his harsh tone reminded me that this was nothing like the last time we’d been together, when we’d both been a bit more innocent. “You never did have any manners at work.”

I smirked, “I know. Imagine my manners at home.”

A low, almost inaudible groan came from Spencer’s throat at my suggestion, but he tried to cover it up by moving my hair out of the way and latching his lips onto the side of my neck. I gasped at the contact of his teeth pulling at my soft flesh, paired with the feeling of his growing bulge pressed against my core. His fingers gripped my hips harder and moved them faster, drawing a small whimper from my lips. I felt him smile as he trailed kisses down my neck to my collar bone, leaving a single bite mark there. I tried so hard to contain my high-pitched moan when he moved one of his hands from my waist to pinch one of my nipples through my shirt.

But I was supposed to be the clear-headed one, so I forced myself to not get too wrapped up in the feeling. If I wanted to get to my end goal, I was going to have to leave him wanting more, which unfortunately in turn meant leaving myself in the same condition.

My hips had gotten faster along with Spencer’s hands, but when I felt him start to buck his hips up against me, I knew that he was getting close and it had to end. Immediately, I stopped my movements and untangled myself from him, but not before dragging a finger up the column of his throat, sneering, “Too bad. I could’ve helped you, had you done anything to help me.”

I left that open for interpretation, either as a jab to his masculinity or to what started my rage in the first place: being left in prison. He didn’t ask for clarification either, clearly too bothered by being left on edge. He did, however, follow up with, “Help you? Why would I want to do that? You’re a terrible person.”

I grinned as if receiving a medal of honor, “That I am, Doctor.”

I moved the lay down on the couch while Spencer attempted to refocus on his work. I made a show of sighing a couple times and rolling around ‘to find a comfortable position’ on the couch, just to piss him off. I could tell it was working based on his clenched fists turning white, and the way his leg was jumping. He was resting his head in his hand, which almost perfectly shielded my face from his.

He still wasn’t turning the page, so I offered, “Can you flip the page by yourself, or do you need some help?”

He wasn’t given the opportunity to respond, because Hotch, followed by most of the team, came barreling through the door.

“Colby Ulton, 43 years old, has a long record and wasn’t home,” JJ announced, following Hotch. It’d been a while since I had to deal with their inhuman pace when it came to talking about unsubs and profiles, so most of the stuff they said next flew over my head.

I was way behind in the conversation, but none of that mattered when Hotch turned to me, “Colby Ulton. I want you on him.” He'd barely gotten the command out before I was reaching for the door handle.

“I don’t.” The words were hot and dry and coming from none other than Doctor Reid. I rolled my eyes. He moved to step in front of the door, blocking my passage out again, leaning casually with his back against it, arms crossed. Our faces were barely centimeters apart.

“Why not?” I asked in a mock-curious voice.

“I don’t trust you. Who’s to say you won’t just run off? Then we’d let a high-profile criminal walk free. Plus, we’re not even sure he’s the right man,” Spencer pointed out. I was going to point out how I had just made that same argument about me leaving, and he refuted it himself only to bring it back up now, but I didn’t get the chance.

“He’s the best we’ve got right now,” Derek countered. I could tell he sort of just wanted me out of the room, but Spencer’s motives appeared very different.

He never took his eyes off of mine as he recited, “We think it’s a rogue gang member who’s either left or been kicked out within the past year. Ulton’s been in prison, which could mean he’s gone rogue, or it could mean he’s joined a new gang, one that, as you probably know, wouldn’t allow this type of acting out. Either way, he hasn’t demonstrated gang affiliated behavior in almost three years. Not to mention he had his tattoo removed and is out of our age range. I don’t think putting her on, most likely, the wrong man’s trail is worth the risk of letting her walk free.”

The room was silent as we all waited for someone else to make the first move. I decided to be that person. “So what do you suggest they do with me, hm?” I questioned, walking my two fingers up his chest with each word. Then I leaned in and made it very clear, “Because I am not going back to prison.”

I bit his earlobe on the way back, and I saw the way his pupils dilated just slightly at the feeling, “I’ll watch her for the night.”

“What?” Derek and I said at the same time, but our facial expressions were very different.

“Yes,” he stated, more confidently now, “She has nothing to do right now, but we might need her later in the investigation, so sending her all the way back to prison doesn’t make sense.”

“And you'll make sure she doesn’t escape?” Derek questioned.

“She hasn’t so far, has she?” Spencer challenged. When he got unnerved looks from the rest of the team, he assured, shooting a small smirk my way, “Trust me, she won’t.” How cute. He thinks he can wrap his skinny little fingers around my neck and pull a moan from me once, and all the sudden he’s in control. He switched our position, pinning me up against the door, clasping the handcuffs back around my wrists in front of me. I was starting to think he had a thing for pushing people into walls. It was his turn to whisper in my ear, “And you won't want to.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When we arrived back at his apartment, I took a moment to survey the room. It looked almost exactly as it had the last time I’d been there. Books piled up everywhere, papers strewn all over the desk, a little dark and dusty, maybe a bit more worn, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The only difference was that it no longer suited him as well anymore. He used to be this shy, studious, loner-type that didn’t really like people, and he had a certain innocence about him. There was nothing innocent about him anymore. He didn’t seem shy either, much more confident; still studious and a loner though. However, I bet he liked having at least one person over at all times, or not being home at all. It meant that he didn’t have to be alone with his own mind, and after being in solitude myself, and knowing that he’d been in there too, that feeling of complete silence, utter aloneness, was something we’d never want to experience again. We were honestly perfect for each other in that way.

The other thing I’d noticed, based on what I'd seen of him within the last few hours and what I knew prison could do to a person, I guessed he went off of instinct rather than intelligence more than he ever had in his life.

Spencer had to take the time to shrug off his satchel and kick off his shoes, neither of which I even had. All I had was myself and what I was wearing, which wasn’t much. At least I wasn’t in an orange jumpsuit anymore.

“Wow, you’ve really renovated the place,” I snickered. Spencer didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and brushed past me. I forced my wrists outward a couple times, making a clanking sound with the cuffs, asking, “You gonna take these off?”

He faced me with a smirk and shook his head slightly, “Don’t think so.” Pulling out a chair at the puny kitchen table, he sat down, and I felt like we were much in the same position we’d been in at the office. I was in his home turf, if I could even call it that, but I wasn’t just going to let him be in charge.

I decided to go straight for the jugular, “Why’d you bring me home, Spence?”

“This isn’t home, not for you,” he snapped.

I scoffed, “Doesn’t look like it is for you, either, but that doesn’t change the question.”

“I told you. I didn’t want to risk you running away.”

“You didn’t want to lose me?” I inquired. He could hear the way I was rephrasing it to change the narrative, not like I was wrong, but he successfully dodged it.

“I didn’t want to lose an asset over the wrong man, tipping the right one off, and potentially risking him going underground. I’m just trying to catch an unsub,” he shrugged.

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” I shook my head in amusement.

“You don’t?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Of course I do,” I quickly answered.

“Then answer this,” Spencer squared his shoulders, now completely facing me, “Why didn’t you run the moment you got the chance?”

“I had three FBI personnel in the car with me, then a team of BAU agents surrounding me, and then was left alone in the same room as an agent who can shoot 100 on his test. I am many things, but I am not stupid nor am I suicidal.”

“How’d you know I shot 100?” Spencer followed up.

I smiled, “I know things.”

“How about all the chances you got when you were in prison? You’ve broken out plenty of times before, why not do it again?” He was leaning forward, and he seemed genuinely curious.

It was a good question, one that I actually hadn’t pre-thought the answer to. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting to even make it this far. “I was biding my time.”

“For..?”

“Leverage.” It was a simple word, but one that seemed to make a great impact. Spencer leaned back in his chair and contemplated my answer. It wasn’t a complete lie either, I just didn’t want to give away too many details.

Spencer finally whispered, “Against?”

I flashed him a wicked smile. “You.” His face contorted into something I couldn’t fully recognize, eyes narrowing. “You, Spencer. I’ve been waiting for you to make an error, a mistake. That was the one flaw in my plan, that while I picked the easiest to emotionally manipulate, I picked the hardest to mentally manipulate. And you don’t make very many mental mistakes, do you Spencer?” I asked, approaching him. I’m really hoping you’d like to cash one in right now, though. I could practically see the internal argument being fought inside Spencer’s head; one side telling him to give in, it wasn’t that bad, the other telling him to resist, that somehow, this would corrupt him further. I needed the former to win. “You wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in the moment, would you? You wouldn’t crack, take what you want, what you need, what you deserve against your better judgement. Because you’re all brain, Spencer. All brain, and no heart.”

That’s what did it.

Spencer literally swept me off my feet, tossing me onto the couch like a rag doll. His hand returned to my throat as if it belonged there, and he pushed open my legs with his knees. My hands may have been cuffed, but they could still be useful. I moved them to start unbuttoning his shirt when he swatted them away. He spat, “I’m not heartless. Not like you.”

“No,” I agreed, “You’re worse. At least I can admit to what I am. You just hide behind a badge and gun.”

Spencer shoved two fingers in my mouth, probably trying to shut me up. I smirked, running my tongue up and down the long digits, making sure to give him a preview of what was to come if he’d let it. His other hand trailed down the side of my body until it reached the waistband of the pants I was wearing. Forcefully, he yanked them down, taking my panties with them. I knew I was already pooling, but of course he had to rub it in. Snarky, he mocked, “For someone who talks a big game, you’re already looking pretty weak.”

I silently cursed my body for finding him arousing, and was about to have to come up with a clever comment when I saw Spencer pause. He was charging straight into this, and then he just stopped. I tilted my head, “Worried you don’t have it in you?”

Spencer met my eyes, and cooly stated, “I’m not going to let you be my mistake.”

Dammit. When I felt him start to pull away, I knew I had to say something to get him to stay. I needed to turn this into an advantage in his eyes, not just mine. “Why? So you can let this rage build up inside of you, eat away at your every thought, until you snap? What then? You lash out during a case, which causes someone to die, either because of your incapabilities or at your hand? And what for? Because you’re still mad at me? I’m right here in front of you, Spencer! You’re never going to get a chance like this again, so just do something!” By the end, it was a plea, and one that was brutally answered.

Spencer pushed two of his fingers inside me, already moving at a quick pace. I let out a small yelp at the sensation which clearly pleased Spencer. I attempted to refocus on unbuttoning his shirt, which became increasingly difficult because of how he was curling his fingers to hit that spot just right. I barely finished, pushing his shirt away from his shoulders when he leaned away from me, taking both of his fingers with him. I was about to complain until I saw him dropping his shirt to the ground and unbuckling his belt, pushing his own pants and underwear out of the way in a similar fashion as he’d done to mine. He pumped his fist over his shaft a couple of times before lining himself up between my wide open legs. He teased my clit with the tip of his cock, and I could feel the precum beading there. I bit my lip as I looked up at him.

Spencer’s eyes were blown when he quietly demanded, “Say it.” He wants me to beg. I was okay with him thinking he was in charge for now, so I played into it by shaking my head. He slammed my cuffed wrists against the arm of the couch just above my head, bringing his face so close I could feel his lips brush mine as he repeated, “Say it.”

It was more forceful the second time, and something about his hot breath on my face and the feeling of his hips trying, and failing, to stay still against mine pulled a whimper all too genuine from my lips, “Punish me.”

At my words, he slammed his cock in my entrance, setting a merciless pace. With no time to adjust to his length, the heat burning between my legs got fiercer. The sounds of his hips hitting mine filled the room, both of us trying to control our moans, not wanting the other to know how much we were really enjoying it. My back arched off the couch, sending my fingers over the arm, brushing over thin objects on the small table there. A pen and paper clip.

I pressed my lips together to contain the grin that just about took over my face. Looking down at Spencer, who was way too busy biting marks into my skin, I could tell he hadn’t noticed the detrimental error I’d just realized he’d made. I made quick work of unclasping the cuffs from around my wrists, but left them on loosely just for show.

The coil in my stomach was getting tighter and tighter, and while I usually would have tried to control myself, I let the moans tear through my lungs. This caught Spencer’s attention, perring up at me with a twinkle in his eyes, one that told me he thought he had me. He mouthed into my neck, “This too much for you to handle, Jailbird?”

I scoffed at his pet name. Alright Doctor Reid, you’ve had your fun. Now let me show you how to really be in charge. “Not in the slightest, Mouse,” I quipped. Before he could think, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and put my hands on the back of his head. I flipped us off the side of the couch, landing on top of Spencer. With the wind knocked out of him, I quickly grabbed his wrist, clasping one of the cuffs around it, looping the chain behind the couch leg, then synching the other around his free wrist. I placed his head on the ground and leaned back, tracing patterns on his chest.

It took him a moment to realize what had just happened, but I saw the moment the light went off. “You filthy bitch.”

I chuckled, “It seems as though that genius memory of yours forgot that I’m a criminally sound escape artist.”

He was fuming, but contained himself long enough to ask, “What changed?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Since last time? You had no problem letting me take control then.”

I simply stated with disgust, “I was soft then.”

“Who’s to say you aren’t still now?” Spencer challenged.

I laced my fingers with his as I pinned them to the ground, my turn to be the one looking down on him, faces only centimeters apart. We locked eyes as I explained, “You can see it too, I know you can. I wake up and see it in the mirror every day, and I see it in you too now. It’s in your eyes. That darkness. That feeling of destruction, of being broken, of being a monster. It’s there. I can see it like it’s my own.”

I expected him to snap at me. To argue with a clever quip. But he didn’t. Spencer leaned up as far as he could and kissed me. Not in the angry, predatory-like way that we had earlier, but really kissed me. I was so taken aback by the gesture that I practically jumped off him after a few seconds. I hated myself for letting it happen for even that long.

I stormed away from him, hissing, “Don’t try to get my sympathy now that you’re the one chained like a dirty animal. I’m not gonna fall for it.”

I saw something quick flash across his face before it hardened again. I could feel his eyes following my every move as I walked away, so I decided to make a show of it. I swished my hips back and forth, and even bent all the way over to pick up our clothes for no reason, just so he could have a perfect view between my legs. I heard the rattle of the cuffs against the couch and smirked to myself.

Tossing the clothes as far away as possible, I reached under my shirt to unclasp my bra, slipping it out one of the arm holes. I spun it around my index finger a couple of times before letting it fly off in the direction of the rest of our clothes. Toying with the hem of my shirt, I rhythmically moved it around my body so that he could only see some exposed skin at a time. I slowly pulled it higher and higher until I removed the garment completely. Standing completely bare in front of him, looking down on his naked body, I’d never felt more in control.

Spencer was drilling holes into me as I got down on my knees, crawling toward him. Again, his hands shot forward only to be stopped by the metal. I tutted, “Now, now, Mouse. That’s not how this works.”

I stroked a single finger up his length, and when it brushed over the tip, he squeezed his eyes shut. I wetted my lips as I wrapped a single hand around his cock, starting at an agonizingly slow pace, a stark contrast to the one he’d set earlier. I had barely started moving at a faster pace when Spencer started to buck his hips up into my hand. I slammed his hips back down with my other arm, giving him a cold look. His hips stilled and I knew he was getting desperate.

I flattened my palm against his lower belly, making sure he’d stay in place as I steadily picked up the pace. Spencer threw his head back when I swiped my tongue over his tip, and huffed when I retracted my hands, breaking contact all together.

I hummed, “Actually, this isn’t that interesting.” I scooted back on the floor, holding eye contact with his piercing irises as I spread my legs wide open for him to see. Neither one of us has had our release yet, so I might as well take mine and leave him high and dry.

I brushed my fingertips down my body, cupping my breasts on the way, until I reached my clit. I started to rub circles over the bundle of nerves, not realizing how close I already was. I let out exaggerated moans as I continued my ministrations, steadily pushing myself toward the edge.

“Stop.” It was barely a whisper, and I wasn’t sure if I even heard it, so I ignored it. Right as another moan ripped through my lungs, I heard Spencer say, louder and more demanding this time, “Stop.”

I was too close to stop. I barely had the mental capacity to smirk down at him before I felt my release crash over me like a tidal wave. For dramatic effect, I whined out Spencer’s name as my walls clenched around nothing, helping myself through my orgasm. Slowly coming down from my high, my head lulled back, release seeping into his rug.

Barely allowing myself to catch my breath, I leaned forward onto my knees, and looked at Spencer’s face, which was red with anger or desperation I couldn’t tell, but brought my lips down on his dick regardless. He grunted at the sensation, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I swirled my tongue around him until I couldn’t anymore, opting to just trace a protruding vein instead. I started to hollow out my cheeks when he bucked up into me, forcing me to take all of him in at once. He groaned when I started gagging around his length, and when I coughed after pulling off him, he had the audacity to laugh.

“Having trouble there, Jailbird?” Spencer smugly asked. I looked down at his length laying against his stomach and saw that it was a deep red, and had to have been painfully hard at that point. With that in mind, along with my recent release, I crawled over him.

I looked at him as I hovered my pussy just above his cock. “I wouldn’t be worried about me. I’d be worried about how you’re gonna take care of yourself with your hands cuffed if I decided I’m done with you.”

That threat wiped the smug look right off his face. I was already wet again, and allowed him to only barely feel what was waiting for him if he behaved, lowering myself down so his length was just brushing my lips.

His face contorted and then he said the word of my victory, “Please.”

Taking hold of his cock in one hand, I lined myself up, and slowly sunk down. He filled me up completely, a bit thicker than I remembered, and I sat comfortably in his lap. This was clearly what Spencer wanted, but there was no way in hell it was going to be that easy. I just sat there looking at him, and based on the crazed look on his face, he was expecting me to start moving immediately.

We stared each other down for a moment before his whole body jerked forward, hands yanking on the cuffs. It was my turn to laugh at his pathetic struggles, but I still didn’t have quite what I wanted yet. Raising my hips up, I quickly slammed them down, pulling the loudest groan I’d heard from Spencer. When I didn’t move again, he started squirming underneath me, and I asked, “What is it you want me to do, Mouse?”

Then he broke, his strangled pleas music to my ears, “God, fuck me, please, just fuck me!”

I grinned as I captured his lips in a vicious kiss, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth. Steadying myself with my palm on his chest, I lifted my hips up, only to let them fall back into his lap. I started slower than either of us wanted, letting myself adjust to his full size before bouncing freely on his dick. The sounds of our heavy moans filled the air, sweat collecting on our bodies.

I was honestly surprised at how long Spencer had lasted when he let out one final shriek before coming undone below me. He’d given up, completely relaxed on the floor as I started chasing my second orgasm. Spencer peered up at me through hooded eyes, and soon enough starting letting out cries, and I knew I was pushing him. I didn’t want to completely overwhelm him but I was so close…

I wouldn’t get there, not yet anyway, because Spencer did something I was not expecting. The couch hit the floor with a loud thud, giving Spencer the freedom to move his arms. He wrapped the chain of the cuffs around the back of my neck and flipped me over in one swift motion, almost identical to how I’d just done it to him.

I was completely caught off guard, and let a surprised squeak leave my lips. I was almost impressed. Almost.

As if he could see straight into my mind, Spencer remarked, “I’m a quick study.” His entire body weight was over me, and there was very little wiggle room for an escape.

I followed Spencer’s eyes as he scanned around the room, glanced at his wrists, then sighed when he spotted his pants. Must’ve been where he put the key.

I raised my pitch and snidely sang like a schoolgirl, “Whatcha gonna do Mouse? You gonna fuck me like the inmate you are, or are you gonna free yourself, hm?”

Pressing his hands down on either side of my perfectly laid out ones above my head, the chain between the cuffs digging into my forearms, he chided, “I’m sure I can handle you just fine with them on. I’m not quite done with you yet, Jailbird.”

My walls fluttered around his cock at the gravelly sound of his voice and the threat that accompanied it. It’s as if he’s chained to me. I shuddered happily at the thought.

“Is that what this is about?” Spencer hissed, clearly catching my pleased look and the way my pussy pulled him in a little more at his harsh words, “You just enjoy seeing me as some twisted killer?”

“I enjoy seeing you for who you truly are.”

I wasn’t able to form another coherent thought after that one, the pace Spencer was pounding into me like one I’d never felt. He fucked his cum from only seconds ago back into me, the wet sound of our mixing fluids filling the room. I could barely focus on where his hands had moved to, teasing my nipples, because the fire between my legs was jumping higher and higher. As it finally burned through me in the sweetest way possible, I reached to grab onto anything, the first thing my fingers found being Spencer’s hair. He growled when I tugged, but his pace never let up.

As I came down from my high, Spencer didn’t stop. The feelings were becoming too strong, too overpowering, pleasure bordering on pain. I tried to pull my hips away from his, but there was nothing I could do. To stop my squirming, he sat back slightly and pressed his large palms down on my hip bones. Moving also changed the angle he was slamming into me, now bottoming out with each thrust. I needed some reprieve.

“Spencer,” I whined, but there was a nothingness in his eyes.

His hands snaked up to my throat, applying massive pressure to my windpipe. “Is this what you wanted?” Spencer yelled, “Is this what you think I truly am?”

I was having trouble getting the air into my lungs, let alone respond. I wanted to force him to face his reality of being an ex-con, knowing how shitty it was to be on the inside and just letting me sit in there. A consequence of my own actions, but considering I was doing it to save him, I was looking for a little bit more effort on the getting out process.

But he’d left me in there. He didn’t care. He didn’t care despite the fact that he knew what I was going through, that I could tell he was still dealing with his own PTSD and not well, and that everything had changed for him. People looked at him and treated him differently. He was a different person. Corrupt. And he’d only been in there for not even three months.

I’d been in there for five times as long.

I wanted him to realize just how much damage him and his useless team were doing to me by not helping me get out. I wanted him to realize how fucked up that was, and how terrible of a person that made him. I wanted him to realize he was just as big of a monster as I was.

I accomplished that. But I underestimated how much darkness he’d really been holding back.

My head started to feel light, and I could tell I was on the brink of my third release. The sound of skin slapping skin was sinful and I couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his tip hitting my a-spot, the way my legs were shaking around his body, the way the muscles in his back felt against my nails as I clawed them down it. My release came quicker than Spencer’s, who wasn’t too far behind me. His thrusts became shallower, as he spilled into me for the second time. It was as if all the energy had been drained out of me in an instant, along with my anger and hatred. Spencer rolled off of me, and I saw his figure weakly collapse to the ground.

It was an eerie calm, the sound of absolute nothingness, the only disturbance being our labored breathing.

I didn’t know how long it’d been when Spencer’s voice, the softest I’d heard it since the day’s start, whispered, “Are you okay?”

I glanced at him with a confused look. He let out a small sigh at my non response, collecting himself before walking over to his long forgotten pants for the cuffs key. After freeing his wrists, he walked back over to me and helped me up, ushering me to the bathroom.

I could tell he was examining me, but it wasn’t until I stood in front of the mirror that I realized why. “Look at those bruises around your neck, Jailbird. They suit you.”

The bruises were deep and already turning a nice purple. I scanned the rest of me finding more bruises on my hips, thighs, shoulders, wrists, and not to mention the bite mark on my collar. I scanned Spencer next, his only bruises coming from his wrists and the red marks I left on his back. “I wasn’t expecting that from you.”

He met my eyes in the mirror, “What were you expecting?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know.” I truly didn’t. I went into it knowing I wanted to force him to see everything he had, everything he was, but I guess I didn’t really think about what that would force me to see. My exhaustion started to give way to a heap of emotions, and a single, involuntary tear escaped my eye. Spencer brushed his fingers over my neck, simultaneously pulling my hair behind my shoulder.

He kissed the tender, bruised skin, and I remembered the times before, the times when it felt like we’d really been in love. I felt his breath on me as he mumbled, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I turned on my heels to face him, “You didn’t.”

I didn’t know what compelled him to confess what I never thought he would, but he sounded deeply ashamed when admitting, “I wanted to.”

“What stopped you?” I was genuinely curious. We’d hurt each other in the most extreme ways before today, getting the other sent to a cage in hell, betraying each other.

“I’m broken, but I’m not beyond repair, and hurting you would make me someone that I don’t want to be.”

I gave him a tired smile, and all I could muster was, “Pretty convincing.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Don’t be, you didn’t. You couldn’t,” I assured him. It was the truth.

“I should’ve,” he bit, looking down at his hands, which were so delicately holding my waist I couldn’t be sure he was even touching me.

“Why?” I questioned, the seriousness evident in my voice, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head, and a stray curl or two tickled my forehead. “I could’ve.”

“I trusted you not to.” I clasped my hands together and rested them on his back.

Spencer’s shaky voice matched his glistening eyes as they locked with mine, “I just wasn’t sure. All I know is that I scare myself sometimes.”

I pressed my forehead against his own, “Well, then I guess we’re two people who have nothing to fear other than ourselves.”

Read the full series

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franeridart · 3 years

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Anon said: [Spoilers for non-manga readers] opinion on Baku's hero name?

Very Bakugou, honestly don’t mind it at all! Mostly just surprised it’s, like, legal in the bnha universe for heroes to call themselves stuff like explodo-kills (and also that there isn’t a character limit for hero names??) but that Bakugou would stick with it is pretty damn in character for him so I like it xD still, I’ll probably just call him Dynamight if I’ll ever need to use his hero name lmao

Anon said: not to be the most romantic sap but uh just a kiss by lady a is killin me

Nothing sappy about letting romantic songs get to you!!!! I say, as I’m constantly crying over romantic songs so this mindset benefits me as well lol

Anon said: i may or may not have stumbled across some of your older kiribaku art, the stuff with akane, and she's the best child oc tbh. i actually like her and i tend to not be a fan of child ocs but she's just the cutest darn thing 🥰

I’m so glad you like her!!!!! She was a lot of fun, what a good gremlin ;;;

Anon said: uve heard of dragon!kiri w his hair spikes up, now get ready for dragon!kiri w his hair dowm lookin like the softest boy

AW HECK I think I’ve drawn him in the past, actually!!!! Spike-haired Kiri will forever be my fav Kiri, but there’s just something about hair down Kiri isn’t it!! What a cute boy ;;;; all sharp edges and soft curves, what a lovely sight

Anon said: can i just say your itafushi art is so cute? these two already make me feel and then your art just (つω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

THANK YOU SO MUCH I really need to draw them more, don’t I! goge kinda monopolized my attention there, but the way itafushi makes me feel..........boy the way they make me feel ;;;;

Anon said: good day, poké au thought: 12 y/o bakugo somehow catches a dreepy as like his 2nd pokemon and never questions it

WHY NOT WHY NOT I have a whole team in my mind for the boy tbh but dreepy is so cute ;;;; and anyway, I like my poke!bakugou with as many dragon types as he could possibly get his hands on hahaha

Anon said: Please know that, amongst other factors, you were one of the maon reasons I stsrted Jujutsu Kaisen two days ago and there isnothing more to say except thank you and I'm absolutely in debt with you for that, thank you so much 😍

I’m so so SO glad you’re liking it!!!!!! It can get kinda heavy but it’s such a great story.... honestly I’d been wanting to start it since I saw the first pv for the anime all the way back last year but I was like, you know it’s a mappa anime! so I wanted to watch the anime as a new thing, cause I love mappa, but three episodes in I couldn’t hold back and just binged it. It’s kind of story that just makes you wanna drink it all in one go, isn’t it? so good so good

Anon said: makeup artist kirishima and model bakugo or makeup artist bakugo and model kirishima? :0c

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm can’t say I see either of them much into fashion tbh, but if I had to pick probably model Kiri and artist Baku? I just don’t think Baku would be able to stay still enough to get photographed, and he wouldn’t like the photographer bossing him around anyway, and catwalks would be impossible for him to stomach imho, he’s too restless for it! At least it’s the way I see it haha

Anon said: fdgdhdkfhdafs i had a thought, what if bakugo prefers dogs and kirishima prefers cats and when they meet each other and become friends it's like, "oh." because they have some striking similarities to their fave animals

That’s been my headcanon for a while now, actually!! I think for me it came from two characters in a manga I like that are a lot like a dog and a cat but have inverted fav animals and when I read about that I was like “oh, right, makes sense since they like each other” and then my brain turned it krbk because when does it not lmao

Anon said: your art is the soothing balm to my soul recently, thank you for posting so much beautiful content. i hope you have a lovely week. ♡

sob thank you so much, I’m glad my doodling can help you feel better ;; <3

Anon said: Friendly reminder anon from last time: that post I left last time I had only eaten 7 gingersnaps that day and hadn’t drank any water. So that encouraged me to actually self care. Thank you.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! well I hope you’re taking care of yourself today too! And as fair trade, I’ll do the same myself! <3

Anon said: Hi! I'm an artist and I'm thinking of making a sideblog for my art. Do you have any tips?

Ah man, I’m sorry but I’m not the best person to ask this to! I started this sideblog cause I had too many followers on my main and I didn’t want my stuff to be seen by that many people at first, so whatever I did probably isn’t what you’re looking for :( but really there isn’t much to it, just post whatever you like to draw, tag it as best as you can (but remember that only the first five tags appear in the search page) and be patient, since whatever you do at first you won’t get much attention anyway - the only real advice I can give is to draw something that makes you happy and that you’d draw anyway even if no one were to see it, it’ll make keep posting despite a possible lack of activity a lot easier!

Anon said: Your goge art🥺🥺

I just love them so much ( TT’’’TT)9

Anon said: how the fuck have i not been following you? I remember seeing your bakushima art in the bnha tag and always thinking it's so cute. Now you're into JJK too??? and the satosugu art??? fuckin, diabetes incarnate. I love it. I love you. Your art 10/10. I'm tired lmao.

WELL thank you for the follow!! And for thinking my stuff is cute!!!!! I do my best with that, I want all the soft things for my favs 😌

Anon said: Are you gonna draw Gojou/Getou comic?? 👉🏻👈🏻 WOULD LOVE TO READ IT

you mean an actual doujin? I don’t think I will, sorry! I’m really no good at long projects orz but thank you so much for wishing to read something like that from me!!! ;A;

Anon said: Hello! YOUR ART IS SO FREAKING GORGEOUSSSS!!! I love them so much!! If I may ask you one question. Between Getou amd Gojou, who do you see as top/bottom? Just curious

THANK YOU!!!!! And I honestly don’t care as long as they’re happy and together!!! please let them be happy and together 🙏🙏🙏

Anon said: i want you to know!!! i followed you for your kiribaku art but!!! i love your art so much that idc what you post because it's all just!!!! incredible and wonderful and stunning!!!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!! this means a lot to me so seriously thank you so much!!!!

Anon said: d'you think bakugo has like headaches or migraines after training or battles because of how loud his quirk is? like, i listen to music slightly too loud and my head is sending me to hell. (unless you go with the hoh hc which is also 👌)

I like to think Baku’s body is attuned enough to his own quirk that he wouldn’t get drawbacks of the kind tbh, though that wouldn’t be a bad thought for when he just starts to increase the output/width and strength of his explosions............ well, I myself suffer from chronic headaches and migraines so I’m always up for projecting on my favs ngl lmao

Anon said: so like... dragon kirishima's eyes glow right? like, if we equate his dragon-ness to unbreakable his eyes glow? they also glow when he's half shifted? honestly i just live glowing eyes

Oh hell yeah I’m all for that, definitely definitely, I love glowing eyes with my whole heart and Kiri’s eyes in unbreakable are just so!!!!!! NGH *chef kiss* the more of unbreakable there is in his dragon form the happier I am ( TT^TT)9

Anon said: me, scrolling through your blog: ah shit guess im gonna have to start watching jjk

!!!!! hope it won’t hurt you too much, anon!!

Anon said: dragon!kiri and bakugo having a tug-of-war match over a piece of meat. both have it in their mouths. both are determined to win.

Kiri is turned into his dragon form and Baku still wins, hell yeah

Anon said: your satosugu is top tier!! it's hard to find stuff for them that isn't straight up angst so your art has been super cool and also very very cute!! (tho if you went with angst, it wouldn't be a bad thing obviously)

AH I’m so happy to hear you like them!!!! but also happy you wouldn’t mind angst, as I do like them the best happy and soft but my brain, my brain has been throwing sads my way for a while now 👀 I got some ideas

Anon said: What program/device do you use??

Easy Paint Tool SAI and a wacom intuos!! Though I got myself an ipad+procreate just yesterday and I’ve been messing around with it, let’s see how that one goes!

Anon said: *inahles* i am simping for mohawk man please tell me everything about your ocs immediately or i will detonate

THANK YOU FOR LIKING HIM HE’S CALLED DAVIDE Dav for short, he’s a cat of a man and a music instrument enthusiast (mostly string ones, but he’s very good with the piano as well) - he works in a music instruments store, and he’s a uni student majoring in philosphy! He doesn’t like bothersome things, he isn’t very good at taking anything seriously or putting effort in stuff, but he’s very chill to spend time with and generally a nice chat both if you want mindless thoughts or deep conversations (he’s a philosophy major after all). He can’t sing for shit, he’s got two cats (tago and schelly!), and he just wants a quiet life to laze around but all his friends are hurricanes in human bodies, but then again, he picked them himself so he can’t complain. He’s a good boy!! I’m planning a comic for him and his boy Ross >:]

#fran answers #SORRY FOR THE DELAY #i wish i could say i was busy but actually i just got distracted #ah also #jjk spoilers #cause my sis has a habit of readin my asks and she can't know about the otp just yet #lol #is the readmore for this showing? this is pretty damn long....#long post #just to be sure

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glowingspence · 3 years

Text

Little hands

Rossi and Hotch take in one last kid - Spencer.

Part 3 Chapter 5

Summary: JJ apologizes and Derek takes Spencer to the office after he asked for it for so long

Word count: 2157

Category: Hurt/Comfort / Light Angst

Ao3 Read below the cut:

"So what are we choosing?" Kate asks standing next to JJ in the line for donuts.

"Something with strawberries"

"That sounds fun I am sure they have that." She tries cheering her up. If anyone of the kids is affected by Hotch and Rossi scolding it’s JJ and while Rossi gave in already telling her it's not as bad, that she was right to include Spencer in the tradition Hotch still shows them the cold shoulder. Not entirely but a kid knows. And especially a kid as sensitive as JJ.

"So what's eating your mind?" She asks when she sits down with her at the small table at the mall.

"Nothing"

"You can tell me" They had spent the afternoon together. Walking through the mall,looking at clothes, buying a few crystals and now eating donuts together but JJ didn't seem to once be able to get pulled out of her guilt. "You know when I was a kid - I was about your age I would snuck out of the house and I would walk this long dark path through a forest and when I would reach the end there would be a field with horses and my parents never wanted me to go there because the man who would own thos houses had a criminal history and I didn't understand that. I would always go there and one day my parents found out and they were furious and I would still go there and years later I found out that he was falsely framed and always the nice man I fought he was but my parents couldn't know that and looking back, I would have done the same thing as a parent."

"Papa is angry"

“But don’t you think he has a valid reason to be?“

“That makes it worse.“

“Did you apologise?“ Kate asks looking at JJ who plays with the napkin in her hand, clearly not seeming like she has an appetite.

“Multiple times.“

“To both of them?“ JJ shrugs and then takes her drink taking a sip. “Is there maybe a chance you forgot apologising to Aaron?“

“Spencer?“ Derek calls through the house. He is grateful to be able to live in such a great place but the size doesn’t make it easier to find your little brother that tends to not respond when he is being called.

“Downstairs“ Emily calls from her room and Derek is lucky and finds him curled up at the end of the house on a small armchair.

“Here you are.“ Derek rubs his hands together for a moment before speaking up again to catchhid attention.

“I am busy right now. Don’t you see?“

“I have a surprise for you“

“I don’t like surprises.“ Spencer states in a monotonous voice turning the page of his book.

“I will bet you like this one.“ Derek steps closer and waits for Spencer to give him his attention. “I bet you won’t turn my surprise down.“

“What is it?“ Spencer quizzes looking away from his book.

“We will drive down to Aaron’s work now.“

“Really?“

“Yes come on. Shoes on, jacket on, off we go.“ Spencer doesn’t even question if David knows about the plan and just rushes behind Derek and is excitedly flapping his hands while Derek tries buckling him up. “One moment sitting still so I can see if everything sits right okay?“

“Can’t sit still right now.“ Derek presses Spencer with a hand on his chest against the seat and checks if the seatbelt is buckled up correctly. “Oh you are strong.“

“One day you will too.“ With that Derek closes the door and walks around the car reading Emily‘s message,

“Aaron is gonna be pissed.“

“RIP to you“

He ignores it and gets into the driver seat checking Spencer’s backpack if he has everything that he needs.

"How long will we drive?"

"Half an hour"

"Can we listen to music?"

"Sure" Derek connects his phone to the radio and starts playing his playlist much to Spencer's disapproval as they pull out of the driveway. "What?"

"It's not music"

"You sound like Dad already"

"I am not that old"

"Not what I meant" Spencer leans down pulling Sima out of his backpack, clinching the stuffed animal to his stomach, rocking back and forth slightly. "Tell me when you feel uncomfortable"

"I don't" The younger brother stays quiet for a long moment and then starts giggling out of the blue and doesn't seem to be able to stop.

"What?" Derek can't stop the smile creeping on his face either.

"What? What? I am going to the FBI" He exclaims, pronouncing especially the “the”.

"You need to find a hobby if that makes you that happy"

"You need to find a hobby if that makes you that happy. I have a hobby"

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah. I read and I draw"

"You draw"

"You draw?Yes"

"You any good at it?"

"You any good at it? I don't know"

"I am sure you are. You can show me when we come home."

"I am sure you are. You can show me when we come home. I am sure you are. You can show me when we come home."

"You sure you are okay kid?"

"You sure you are okay kid? You sure you are okay,kid? Good. Good. Have a lot of happy feeling."

"Keep stimming" Morgan tries suddenly getting anxious that this is too much for Spencer.

"Keep stimming. Keep stimming."

"Do your hand thing" Instead of flapping his hands what Derek hinted at he starts hitting his head.

"Hey! We don't do that." Derek reminds him a little bit louder than necessary but it got the kid to freeze in his actions. "What do we do instead? We do this" He takes one hand of his steering wheel for a moment and rubs it with pressure over his own chest. "Copy what I am doing"

"Copy what I am doing?" He does but then goes back to flapping his hands.

"That's okay too just don't hit yourself"

"Can I come in?" Rossi is standing in front of Emily's door.

"Yes"

"What are you doing?" He asks when he enters the room and sees her sitting on her bed, her Ipad leaning on her pulled up legs as she takes one of her headphones out.

"Watching a show."

"What is it about?"

"What do you want?"

"Can we talk about what is going on with you?"

"No." She doesn't look up to him. "I changed my mind, can you please?"

"Kiddo I am not here because you are in trouble"

"I want to be alone now"

"I thought we figured out what was wrong and talked about it?"

"Seriously Dave just go"

"No"

"What is your problem?"

"My problem is that my daughter won't speak to me."

"Not my problem. Go now please."

Patiently Derek stands next to his car waiting for Spencer to get out of it. "What's wrong?"

The kid just shrugs and keeps playing with Sima. "You can take her, we can take your whole backpack."

Slowly Derek gets down on one knee next to the car and opens his arms, "Come here" Hesitantly Spencer gets out and leans against his chest. "What is it?"

Instead of talking he hides his face against Derek's neck. "You need a moment, is that it?" Spencer nods and Derek grabs his own jacket, placing it over Spencer's shoulders before picking him up again, pulling it now higher to cover parts of his face, giving him a chance to hide away from the world.

Derek had watched Spencer doing this countless of times with blankets and clothes or even grabbing Dave's hand and placing it on his face while cuddling with him because if there was one of millions of things that prior families got wrong about Spencer it's that he does not dislike physical contact, he dislikes unannounced physical contact.

If they tell him beforehand, if they ask him if they can hug him, if they ask if he wants to be hold he will almost always agree and after he learned that no one is touching him without a warning he got very quick with initiating it himself especially when he gets overwhelmed.

He throws Spencer's backpack over his shoulder, and places his free hand on the bag of Spencer's head as he walks towards the building and he can feel him gripping his shirts and slightly hit his head against Derek's shoulder when they enter the building.

"How can I help you, Sir?"

"My name is Derek Rossi Hotchner. I am a visitor for Aaron Hotchner with the BAU."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"He is expecting me. I am his son. It should be noted in his file."

"Oh yeah I just read it. I need your ID and then you are good to go. Who is the little one in your arms?"

"Spencer Reid,I hope he is noted already too?"

"No I am sorry" Derek hands her his ID. "How old is he?"

"Seven"

"What damage will he do right?" She hands him two visitor badges. "I assume you already know this but you two need to get through security over there and then you are good to go."

"Thank you Ma'am" Nervously Derek walks over to the security.

"Sir I need to look into your backpack and you please walk through the metal detector, and your- whatever too"

"Is it okay if he stays on my arm? He is not doing well with this" Derek voices his concern. "The metal detector will detect metal either way"

"Don't lecture me about my job"

"Derek!" He hears a familiar voice and when he turns around he sees Gideon approaching them. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting Aaron" Gideon pulls out his badge and leads them through the security. "Thank you"

"No problem, who have you got there?" He asks with a smile when they are standing in the elevator and Derek slightly pulls the jacket down revealing Spencer's face or everything that isn't converted by his hands as he starts whining and pressing against his older brother again to shield old the lights.

"May I introduce? Spencer"

"Nice to meet you,Spencer" Anxious Spencer looks in the opposite direction. "You were also shy in the beginning," Gideon tells Morgan. "The FBI building was not at all your favorite place you wouldn't wander around you would stay in your dad's office and in your dad's office only"

Shyly Spencer turns his head around looking at Gideon and when they leave the elevator he points at him. "That's Jason Gideon. He is a close friend of Aaron and David. David and him have founded the BAU together." Derek explains.

Carefully Morgan pulls the jacket off his shoulders but doesn't take it off completely so he can pull it over him again if he gets overwhelmed. He sometimes thinks his parents think way too complicated when it comes to soothing Spencer.

"I heard you like reading" Insecure Spencer nods and leans his head down on Derek's shoulder, seeming like he was ready looking around but still faced the older man. "What's your favorite?"

"Have you ever heard of David Rossi? The kid reads it as his night time story" Derek jokes and can already see in the man's eyes the lecture his dad now expects.

Derek takes it slow with walking to the bullpen letting Spencer look around and the other agents on Aaron's team look up, eyeing them but no one approaches them, giving Derek the chance to get up to his office first.

"What are you doing here? Is everything okay?" Worried Aaron gets up from his seat.

"You forgot something"

"What did I forget?"

"Taking Spencer here."

"I was busy-"

"Yeah you are already busy when you are on cases for weeks, it won't hurt you to at least take a few hours and do this right?"

"Derek I do not appreciate this tone"

"You won't listen to us when we say it otherwise." Gideon steps inside placing a hand on Derek's back. "It's true, don't defend him."

"I wasn't going to."

"Papa!" Another voice fills the office and JJ runs inside reaching for him to pick her up.

"Is everyone here?"

"Hey Derek" Kate greets him and steps inside too seeing Spencer and Derek. "Oh how adorable"

"Why- oh angel" He only realizes now that JJ is crying. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I am sorry for sneaking away the other day"

"It's okay, you already got your punishment."

"But you are still mad"

"Not at you, It's okay." He tries soothing her. "It's okay, pumpkin. You are okay, I am not mad."

Spencer meanwhile let's Derek cover him again and Kate walks over giving Derek a gentle squeeze at the arm.

"You are all good, it's okay" Hotch repeats to the sobbing girl in his arms. "I am not mad at you I promise."

#little hands series #my writing #ao3 #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jereau #kate callahan #jason gideon #david rossi #emily prentiss #autistic spencer reid

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backinblack1967 · 4 years

Text

The Annual Feeling of Loss or You’re Never Alone (Seonghwa x Reader)

A/N: Hi, everyone! :) Over the years I’ve written several little stories but never had the courage to post them online. I’ve been struggling with the death of my dad the past few months and what better way to cope with it than with writing it down, I thought. So, I made a one-shot with ATEEZ and a reader insert. If you don’t want to read about it, you are warned. (Please be warned that English isn’t my mother tongue, either.)

To be honest, this one is more fluff and (bad) humour after the initial angst. Feel free to leave a comment, ask me about anything or maybe even leave a request for a future scenario.

XXX Sarah

Seonghwa x Reader x platonic!ATEEZ

word count: 3,011

***

네가 힘이 들고 지칠 때 When it’s hard and you’re tired

찾게 되는 그 곳, 나 그 곳이 될게 the place you’re looking for, I’ll become this place

아무 것도 놓을 수 없어서 when you have nowhere to lean on

삶이 버거울 때 꼭 네 곁이 될게 when life is too much, I will be next to you

(BTS - With Seoul)

***

It was that day again. You had dreaded it for the last 2 years and you hated yourself for it. When your father had been alive it had been a funny coincidence that your birthday was on the exact day before his, but when he’d died you had come to loathe both of your birthdays because they had become a constant reminder that you’d never see him again. Never hear his voice again or feel his arms around you in one of his famous bear hugs.

Yesterday you had celebrated your birthday with your friends, trying to suppress the rising feeling of dread and sadness. Currently, you were sitting in a small café, or more like hiding from your best friends you whom were living with. You could try bullshitting them with the excuse of cramps or a migraine, but some would undoubtedly see behind your carefully constructed façade.

And so, you had gone out in the early hours of the day to seek refuge and distraction in the crowds. You were currently sitting in the farthest corner with a cup of warm chocolate in front of you and your iPad and pencil in the other, trying to force the thoughts from your head onto the canvas. Sometimes drawing them helped to forget a little. Or to remember the fond moments you were especially frightened of forgetting over time.

This morning, when you had opened your old chat to listen to his voice again, you had barely been able to contain your cries. The audio messages were still there but the little icon on top which should show his picture had been empty. Maybe it was because he had been offline for too long and at that thought, uncontrollable sobs had taken over your body. You had decided to leave your shared flat then because you didn’t want to ruin their short time off by bringing their jovial mood down.

You had left a note on the kitchen table saying you would be back in the evening and that they shouldn’t wait up if it got later.

You figured if you could only get through today you would be fine tomorrow. Distract yourself until nightfall, sneak in and sleep it off.

Admittedly, you had entertained the thought of talking to Yun-ho this morning and whether you would feel better wrapped in his arms but then you had decided against it. You didn’t want to burden either of them and you really didn’t want them to see you as weak. For good measure, you had turned off your mobile phone so you wouldn’t be tempted to call them or your mom.

***

What you didn’t know was that back in the dorm every sense of carefreeness had been abandoned hours ago. San hadn’t been particularly worried when he had found your note first – sometimes you just ventured off to calm places to concentrate.

He couldn’t blame you when their dorm resembled a playground filled with 5-year olds high on sugar more often than not. He had been curious why you would be staying out late on a weekend but Hong-joong had reminded him that people like them needed the occasional day off to gather inspiration and that you would surely confide in them if something was bothering you.

They had unanimously decided to wait up for you to ask if anything was wrong but to otherwise leave you be for the time you were away. However, San had seen Seong-hwa and Yeo-sang trying to sneakily call you several times through the day. When he had asked them about it, both of them had admitted that they had a bad gut feeling. Both of them had been with you on some of your “alone days” without the others knowing, so their feelings wouldn’t get hurt. When he had gathered all of his team members to tell them exactly that, they had been surprised to hear because as it turned out you had always taken one of them with you when you had gone out “alone”.

Now they were worried. Had something happened? Had they unknowingly done something to hurt your feelings? Or had it been someone else? Jong-ho had oh so kindly offered to beat up anyone who might have hurt their girl, Min-gi volunteering as well. Both Hong-joong and Woo-young had hurriedly convinced them not to do it, in remembrance of the last incident.

And then the phone had rung.

And it wasn’t who they had expected. An angry, high-pitched female voice had greeted Yun-ho on the other end, making his smile drop. That wasn’t you. And she was neither speaking Korean nor English. He picked up two familiar words, however, in her rant: your name and the word “papa”. With wide eyes he told Hong-joong and thrust the phone at him as if it would bite him any minute.

Hong-joong switched the phone to speaker as he waited for a break in her venomous monologue. They winced from the apparent fury in her tone without even understanding what she was saying. When she paused to draw breath, Hong-joong hurriedly interrupted her in English.

“I’m sorry, I assume you want to talk to Y/N, but she’s currently out. May I ask who you are?”

The woman’s voice had turned condescending at that, mocking him for his “horrible” English pronunciation in a sickly-sweet tone before she continued to rant about her little irresponsible and stupid sister who wouldn’t even come home for her deceased father’s birthday. Like, who did she think she was? Not even calling her elder sister to ask her if she was alright on such a somber day. Hong-joong didn’t detect a smidgen of sadness in her voice or any compassion for her family member. And suddenly your absence made incredibly much more sense.

He figured he would let her let off steam before getting rid of her and looking for you with his brothers. It was twenty minutes later when he couldn’t stand the insults hurled towards you anymore and told her to shut up (which shocked his members as they’d never heard him speak less than respectful to strangers or older people). He had tried to tell her of your compassion and warm heart, how you helped everyone around you and brightened their days. But for every positive trait or deed your sister had responded with another insult which were growing more and more farfetched.

They others weren’t too good in English but with certain familiar keywords, their leader’s expression and the tone of the woman’s voice they could piece together the gist of what was being said. Even Yun-ho’s patience began wearing thin as he watched Joong’s expression turning more and more agitated and downright hurt.

He threw a glance at their eldest who held a pensive expression on his face as he stared off into the distance. When Seong-hwa noticed Yun-ho’s pleading gaze and the various distressed and confused faces around him, he lightly tapped on Hong-joong’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Joong, don’t you want to end this conversation? It doesn’t seem to go anywhere… Could you wrap it up and tell us what exactly is going on?”

He nodded and said a few sentences to the other person on the phone that left her silent with surprise.

“You will have to stop right there, miss. I won’t tolerate you insulting my friend any longer. I have no idea how you got this number but please refrain from calling again or I will see myself forced to talk to our manager and lawyer. Have a good day.”

There was a brief silence before Yeo-sang voiced what all of them were thinking.

“So… who exactly was that and why were they so angry at Y/N?”

Hong-joong explained that your older sister had called from home and that today was the birthday of your father who had died two years ago, shortly before his birthday back then, too.

San hugged Woo-young when his face crumbled into sadness at the news. He could vividly imagine what it meant to lose a family member and he didn’t wish that kind of devastating heartache on any of the people he considered family.

Hong-joong couldn’t bring himself to repeat the insults your sister had hurled at you and relied as much to the others. He was visibly angry whereas Seong-hwa looked more concerned.

“Should we go look for her? Do you have any idea where she could be?”

“Don’t you think we should give her some space until she comes back, Hwa? I mean, she obviously had a reason to leave for the day.”

Yun-ho trailed off unsurely because he didn’t want to do anything else besides wrap you in his arms and to cuddle the sadness away.

“I think we should wait here. Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than to be with her right now, either, but we don’t know where to start searching. And what if she comes home while we’re running around Seoul? Let’s just wait and cheer her up when she returns,” proposed Yeo-sang, ever the voice of reason, although he didn’t seem to be happy about it. “I don’t want to overwhelm her or make her uncomfortable.”

Min-gi was the first one to agree. “Then can we prepare a movie evening and order take-out?”

***

It was dark when you decided you had wallowed in self-pity and bitter-sweet memories for long enough. You trudged through the darkened streets until you found yourself staring up at the building of your dorm. You had decided to come home earlier than planned because you honestly couldn’t take being alone anymore.

You needed their smiles and distracting chaos to ground yourself in the present and to remind yourself that everything would be okay at the end of the day.

You forced a smile on your face as you walked up the flights of stairs towards your home. Shortly before you reached the front door, you turned on your phone again only to take note of the several missed calls, all of them from your extended little family except one from your sister. You weren’t sorry that you had missed hers, she would have solely reproached you anyway for your so-called heartless behaviour towards her.

You stuffed your phone into your jeans pocket, touched that they had tried reaching out to you despite your little note. You felt childish for ignoring them now.

You had barely unlocked the front door and put your keys on the hook next to it, when something slammed into you and wrapped their arms around your shoulders. Another one joining seconds after at your back. Blinking in surprise, you returned the hugs and automatically your uptight body went lax in their hold.

You felt surrounded and loved and so completely at home.

Judging from the familiar scents, you were currently between San and Min-gi. Over the latter’s shoulder you could see Woo-young nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet. You smiled at him and it felt less forced than all the hours before. When you beckoned with your hand towards him, he bound over to your little bunch and joined the tangled mess. You giggled at their puppy-like behaviour.

“Did something happen? What’s gotten into you, not that I’m complaining?”

“We just missed you,” came Woo-young’s muffled reply.

You smiled at his admission, “I missed you, too. All of you.”

When you had untangled yourself from the hug a few minutes later, Min-gi took your hand and led you towards the grand couch in the living room.

You took in the other members sitting on the couch and on the nest of pillows and blankets before it, with steaming take-out containers scattered in various places.

“Okay, something definitely happened. Are we celebrating a new song? Do I need to beat somebody up?”

You earned various smiles for that and Seong-hwa patted the free space between him and Yun-ho on the couch. You accepted his invitation and after they had wrapped their arms over your shoulders you inquired once more, “Now tell me. What happened?”

There was a tense silence before Hong-joong spoke. “Your sister called today.”

Dread replaced your uplifted mood as you felt the smile slip from your face. In a small voice you asked, “What did she say? … Oh my god, I’m so sorry, guys. I don’t know how she got this number.”

Yeo-sang hushed you from his place at your feet, one hand running up your knee.

“Don’t worry. I don’t think she will call again. But why didn’t you tell us about today? You know you can tell us anything. We love you.”

You fiddled with your fingers, touched by his sincere words.

“I love you guys, too. It’s just- I just didn’t want to bother you on your small holiday. And I thought that if I … don’t need comfort or if I don’t talk about it, it would go away sooner. Like it didn’t actually happen.”

Hearing your reasons out loud made you wince because of how pathetic they sounded. You really were childish. And as horrible as your sister said, for trying to forget your father’s death. I’m sorry, papa. I miss you.

Your self-deprecating train of thoughts was interrupted by a soft palm on your right cheek.

“Sweetheart, whatever you’re thinking right now – stop. You’re not stupid for trying to forget or for being insecure. And you can always come to us if something is bothering you. Have you forgotten the many times you were there for us? Isn’t that right, guys?”

All around the room, there were affirmative nods and assuring smiles. You smiled and leaned subconsciously into his touch.

“I- I think I know, Hwa. I was just being stupid. Sorry for worrying you.”

He leaned in with a soft smile until his forehead and nose were touching yours. You squirmed at his closeness and your obvious blush on display for all of them. He had always been a bit touchy-feely with you, but you had passed it off as Woo-young, Min-gi and San rubbing off on the other members.

You were sure your crush was blatantly obvious right now. Your love for Seong-wha went far beyond the platonic kind and you had been afraid to tell him – or anyone – in fear of making things awkward. But in that moment, as he gazed deeply into your eyes, you could have sworn he felt the same for you.

Your little bubble was interrupted by Woo-young’s coos and Jong-ho clearing his throat.

“So, uh… can we start movie night now? I’m famished.”

You all laughed at that, but you still caught the knowing smiles on their faces. Seong-hwa winked at you when he retreated slightly.

You barely registered Yun-ho mumbling something about popcorn, being far too occupied with Seong-wha draping a blanket over the both of you and engulfing your hand underneath it with his bigger one. You snuggled closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. The need for comfort and skin-ship was making you a little bolder than usual.

Yun-ho and Min-gi returned with two big bowls of popcorn and snuggled back into the pillow fort. The next few hours were spent laughing at the people in the movie, munching popcorn and gorging on your favourite take-out.

Sometimes happy moments made you sad when you realized you wouldn’t get to share them with your father. This time, you felt whole and as if you could face any problems as long as they stayed by your side.

There was a comfortable lull in conversation and no more remarks at the stupidity of certain movie characters a few hours later when everyone became sleepy. Your head rested drowsily against Seong-hwa’s shoulder, his cheek on the crown of your head, hands intertwined and blissful smiles on both your faces. You were happy, sorrows not forgotten but dulled and overshadowed by the feeling of absolute belonging.

You heard Yeo-sang whispering and giggling with San.

“Hm?” You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at them.

“Oh, don’t mind us. We were just wondering when one of you will gather enough courage to make the first step,” Yeo-sang remarked matter-of-factly with a good-natured smirk on his face as he made a sweeping gesture towards you and Seong-hwa.

Your earlier blush returned full force. You pressed into Seong-hwa’s chest to hide from their encouraging gazes. His chuckle rumbled underneath your ear as he drew you closer with his arm.

“There you go again, ruining my plans to tell her. And do I have to remind you that most of the time it was one of you two who interrupted me when I was approaching the subject? I should put both of you on dish washing duty for the next month,” he answered jokingly.

You had perked up in the middle of his sentence. Was that an indirect confession?

Your head peaked up at him, catching the warm smile directed at you.

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course, I do. So, what do you say, Y/N. Do you want to be the Light Fury to my Toothless?”

“Yes,�� was all you managed through the big smile on your face.

What had begun as a horrible day had ended as one of the best days in your life so far. And all thanks to your little extended family and the guy you had fallen in love with.

“That’s nice and all, but please keep things PG-rated, alright? We have a baby in our midst.”

As Jong-ho hit Yun-ho over his head, Seong-hwa threw you one of those smiles that were a cross between amusement and internal suffering. You giggled and snuggled closer again. You were home.

A/N number 2: Reposting this again because I’m old. I actually messed up the hashtags. Please help, haha.

#ateez #ateez seonghwa #angst #hurt comfort #death #i tried #a second time #the annual feeling of loss #you're never alone

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papergirllife · 5 years

Text

The Story Of You And I.

Lee Taeyong ( One Shot- Part 1 )

Warnings : Angst, smut, slow burn.

You and Taeyong went way back. Since the both of you were 7 at the 2002 Seoul Fashion week for your mom's up and coming fashion label.

When you met him, he was working as a child model for your mom's brand.

" Hi I'm Y/N. What's your name?"

" I'm Taeyong. Who are you? "

"I'm Ms Kim's daughter. Your one of the models for this show aren't you? "

" Y-Yeah."

" Let's be friends from now on. "

"Okay."

You didn't know why you picked him out of all the boys there to make friends. Maybe it was because of his big googly eyes or his cute bouncy self waiting in line to be dressed.

The both of you became close friends. Always chatting at the backstage of every show. He even signed a contract to stay on with your mom's brand.

As you got to know him longer, you knew more about him. He was a rich family's son, he's mom was once a famous model back in the 70s' and married a wealthy business man. Their family owns Lee Insurance Inc. and even a law firm.

As he got older, his father wanted him to learn up the ropes of the business world, at the age of 12.

He never liked the corporate world, too shady he always said. Thankfully he has a sister who enjoyed business. So the responsibility didn't weight on him anymore.

As Taeyong and you grew, the both of you started developing into teenagers. His eyes were still big, but held a sense of mystery. His jawline sharper. Shoulders broader.

You hadn't changed much, not as much as he did. You started cutting down from snacking as you fall into the phase of wanting to keep yourself fit. You started a gym membership and enrolling dance classes.

You still remember staring at yourself in the mirror at age 15, admiring the curves you developed from your hard work.

Taeyong wasn't blind. He saw the way you changed. No longer that cute little girl who said hi to him at his first catwalk.

One day at the age of 16 the both of you were trapped in one of your mom's studio due to heavy snow fall as you were helping Taeyong with his measurements.

You got bored, so you started sketching some designs on your notebook after your mom taught you how to.

" Do you always bring along your sketch book and pencils wherever you go?"

" Yeah. So that whenever I'm inspired I'll always be able to draw at once. It's really important to me. "

" Thats so artistic and cool."

" Thank you. "

You could feel the blush creeping up your cheeks. You have never been complimented much in your life. Being a famous designer's daughter means you rarely have sincere friends. Taeyong was the closest to you among all.

You looked up from the sketch book to see Taeyong's face only millimeters away from yours. His eyes focused on your lips. With a pounding heart, you closed the gap between the two of you.

Everything was well for a year. Both of you were the sweethearts of the weekly tabloids. The power couple netizens would call the both of you. Until everything fell apart.

At one of your girl friend's new year's party bash. You were supposed to go there with Taeyong, but you suddenly had a headache from the amount of work from school and work. So Taeyong texted you that he wouldn't go as you weren't going to be there.

You were going to fall asleep until your friend Yeri called you.

" Y/N, Y/N. Open your messages right now. You won't like it, but it's the truth and I didn't want to hide it from you. "

" Um. Okay? Hang on a sec. "

When you opened Yeri's chat, there were two blurry photos, you clicked into them and your heart dropped.

It was Taeyong and some random girl making out. You exited your chat with Yeri and opened Taeyong's.

' I'm breaking up with you. '

You hit send and proceeded to block his number and all the other forms of social media accounts.

A few weeks later, the tabloids caught wind of the break up and even caught a photo of Taeyong and some girl kissing at Starbucks.

Taeyong and Y/N, Lovebirds No More? Who's Taeyong's New Mystery Girl?

Y/N's nasty heartbreak, Taeyong's Break For Freedom.

The Similarities Between Y/N and Taeyong's New Darling, Rosé.

Throughout this break up, only Yeri was there, helping me move on from my first love and heartbreak. Passing me tissues and eating tubs of ice cream together.

2019.

" Ms Bae, Ms Bae! "

" Yes? "

"We're short of one of our main male models, he suddenly called and said that his aunt was in critical condition at Jeju. So he flown out of the city and won't be participating in all of our shows. "

" Hurry find a replacement. Any decent model will be fine for today until we find another permanent. "

" Yes, Ms Bae."

You can't screw this up. This is the first time your mom gave you full reins of the company. You had to ace this one way or another.

You were adjusting a model's clothing when you heard a voice that made you drop the pins in your hand.

" Y/N, long time no see. "

You still remember his voice, even though it got deeper as he matured.

" Taeyong. "

You greeted him in a hardened tone.

" Cut the crap. What are you doing

here? "

" Ms Bae, Ms Bae. He was the only decent model available at such a short period of time. "

Your assistant didn't dare looked up to your face, fearing that you might fire her on the spot.

" Get him dressed Nancy. "

" Yes, Ms Bae. "

You looked at Taeyong like he was trash, well technically he is to you but not literally. And you really needed a replacement model.

" Y/N, don't you remember all the happy memories we shared? "

You ignored him and started picking out his runway attire.

" Mr Lee, what is the size of your waist? "

Your assistant asked.

" Ask Y/N. She knows. "

" I don't keep trash in my head. Tell her yourself. "

Taeyong sighed. You sneaked a glance at him. He still does that making his lips straight frown whenever he's frustrated.

It's time you forgot about him Y/N, you told yourself.

" Size 31. "

He took the pants from your assistant to change behind the veil.

" Are you okay Ms Bae?"

Nancy whispered.

"It's been 4 years plus now Nancy. I'm fine. " Or that's what you keep telling yourself.

Nancy seemed a little bit relieved at what you said event though she wasn't entirely sure you were speaking the truth.Suddenly someone called.

"Nancy, Nancy! We need your help with one of the model's measurements. "

You took Taeyong's clothes from her hands and beckoned her to go. She left with a little bit of uncertainty on her face, but didn't dare to question her boss.

Taeyong finally stepped out from the veil, looking smart in the pants you designed.

" Here. Change into the button up first, then the sweater, finally the coat. "

You passed every article of clothing to Taeyong but he didn't take it.

" Dress me. "

" Stop playing games Taeyong. Time is ticking. "

" What sort of games? You did this all the time back when we were kids. "

" I'm not your friend or anything anymore, so get dressed on your own. "

Instead of listening to you, Taeyong plopped down the stool, mindlessly looking at his fingers.

After a minute of no sign of movement from him you took matters into your own hands.

You began to unbutton his shirt rapidly and put on the shirt for him, buttoning the buttons.

Taeyong had a surprise look on his face, he didn't think you'd actually do it.

When you undressed him, you saw the changes on his body. He was much more built than he was last time. Small knobs and cervices at his once soft stomach. You were careful to not touch him.

After you finished adjusting the dress shirt, you forced the sweater over his head, fingers accidentally knocking onto some part of his face.

" Ouch! You used to be more gentle when you dressed me backstage your mom's shows. "

" Let the past stay the past. " You said as you dumped the coat on his face.

" Do that on your own, or get a fling to do it for you. "

You scanned him top to toe to see if anything was wrong. Until you spot his Nike sneakers.

You weren't going to be Prince Charming for him. So you called Nancy and told her to switch tasks with you with a pair of size 9 from your latest collection.

The show was starting soon, you double checked the attendance and the paper and magazine companies.

You could feel a headache forming thinking of the gossip columns eating on the drama that's going to happen tonight.

Ex Lovers Reunited?

What's Happening Between Taeyong and Y/N? Taeyong casted in Y/N's First Full Fledge Collection.

Just mother freaking great.

Everything went smoothly during the beginning, no mismatched clothes, no ruckus outside the venue.

You took a peak from behind the curtains. The columnist and VIP customers seemed to be enjoying it.

" Ms Bae, Ms Bae. "

Nancy called you interrupting your thoughts.

" Yes? "

" Right after Taeyong's wrap up for the runway, it's supposedly your turn to greet and thank the guest. "

Shit, I forgot. A could sense an oncoming disaster.

" Right, yeah. Just let me get changed and I'll be right out. "

You changed into a pair of black skinny jeans and black sweater, to not distract the audience from the clothes worn by the models.

I stood behind Taeyong to wait for my cue. He suddenly turned around and looked at me in the eyes.

" No good luck kiss like when we're 17? "

"You lost that right when you lost my trust. "

For a while Taeyong really looked hurt. I could have been imagining it, don't get your hopes up Y/N , it'll just break your heart again.

When Taeyong walked the runway, heads turned and jaws dropped. Of all the models to grace my brand they didn't expected him. Especially for the closing scene, but there wasn't anyone else under my belt that could pull of such an outfit.

I could see my guest started whispering among themselves. Some frowned, some smiled, some had cynical looks on their faces, like they expected you to fall back with your most popular ex.

When Taeyong came back, it was your time to shine.

" Thank you so much for coming to the show. Customers who would like to make purchases may raise their hand, an employee with an iPad would be of assistance. Once again thank you and goodnight. "

You bowed and returned to the back end. You started helping your staff pack up the equipment, but they all dismissed you midway claiming that they could finish up by themselves.

So you decided to pack up your belongings to head home to prepare for the after party.

After keeping everything, you double checked your belongings and found that your sketch book wasn't present.

You started panicking, the sketch book held many ideas and sketches for future references.

" Ms Bae you should head home to prepare yourself for the after party. "

" I know Nancy, but I can't seem to find my sketch book. "

Nancy's eyes became saucers, she knew how important that book was to you.

" I'll help you ask all the staff, you have to head home to prepare first, it's your first after party Ms Bae. "

" Okay, thank you Nancy. Contact me if you find it. "

#nct smut #nct taeyong #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct u scenarios #nct u imagines #nct u taeyong #nct angst #nct aus #nct fic #taeyong smut #taeyong fluff #taeyong scenarios #taeyong superm #nct imagines

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

Text

Apples & Cinnamon (3) - The Excuses | Carlton Drake x Reader

Words: 2,290

Warning: Carlton messing up again and reader forgiving him ‘cause she has the Eliza Schuyler level of kindness, some angst, mentions of anxiety (but there’s self care)

A/N: Trying to get back into writing this series again and hopefully it shows in the tags this time. I feel like the next chapter will be the last for the Venom prequels and I’m debating if I should go straight to post-Venom. I have a few ideas on bringing Carlton back for that one, drawing from some events in the Spiderman comics. Thank you guys for reading my fics and waiting patiently for the next one!

With the launch of the exploration space ship, Carlton tried to spend more time with you. He made an effort to learn new recipes to cook for you, he’d do the chores around the apartment, so you’d come home and relax to a clean living space, and he’d even drove you around town to help with errands and take you to work. To say you weren’t enjoying this would be a lie, but at the same time, it made you anxious.

One day, Anne invited you for lunch, wanting to catch up and discuss the wedding plans. The date is undecided, but it didn’t hurt to bounce ideas around. Anne and Eddie were a simple couple, so nothing extravagant. Anne joked about dressing casually for the wedding and that Eddie would gladly wear his biker jacket if he could.

Anne sipped her water and eyed you. “So, what about you?” she asked. You tilted your head, picking on the bread crusts of your sandwich with a fork. “What about me?” you countered. “I mean, you and Carlton have been together for a long time. No wedding bells on your end? Eddie mentioned that you’ve been arguing,” she said with concern. You shook his head. “What a typical reporter, warping the truth,” you said, “but, no. We weren’t really arguing… just that he’s been busy and all. He’s trying to make up for it, though.” As if on cue, your phone dinged, a message from Carlton popped up asking where you were. You reminded him that a friend had wanted to take you out for lunch. Within seconds, he asked which friend it was and if he knew them. You grimaced, telling him it was a girl from college that you haven’t seen in a while and wanted to catch up. It wasn’t a complete lie. You knew Eddie from college and you’ve met Anne through association. You didn’t want to be specific on who it was, not wanting to affect Anne’s work life, knowing the chances of her firm working with Life Foundation. “Something wrong?” Anne asked, her head tilting, letting her short blonde hair cascade over her shoulders. You shrugged it off. “It’s nothing. He just wants to know where I am.” Another message popped up asking where the small diner was. You gave him the name of the diner and told him that you were almost finished. He wanted to pick you up as soon as you were done. “You should talk to him if something’s bothering you,” Anne said, seeing your brows furrow as you texted your boyfriend. “It’s fine, Anne. Besides, I don’t want to bother him. He’s the CEO of Life Foundation. He’s got bigger things to worry about,” you said, almost trying to convince yourself. Anne reached over to grab your hand. “Well, if you want to talk, you know you can always call me, right?” “I know,” you said too quickly. Anne sighed. “And if even cares for you at all, sharing your thoughts and feelings shouldn’t bother him. If it does, Eddie and I will swoop down and save you.” You texted Carlton as you and Anne waited to pay for the meal. He immediately replied, saying he was on his way. After paying, you followed Anne out to the curb where she parked her black car. She offered to wait with you until Carlton arrived, but you dismissed her offer, insisting you’d be fine. Carlton always arrived on time. Until today, that is. You honestly didn’t know how long you’ve waited, but long enough for the chill of the incoming dawn to blow through the streets. You texted Carlton after the first ten, fifteen, half an hour, and even an hour of wait, only to be left as unread. Your heart began to race, an uneasy feeling vibrating through your body as your throat constricted and your eyes threatened to spill over. Maybe there was a last-minute emergency. Taking a few deep and slow breaths, you wrapped an arm around your stomach and waved a cab down. Luckily, one did stop for you, asking where you wanted to go as soon as you climbed in. You debated if you should go over to Life Foundation, but you were too drained, so you opted to going straight home. You tried to text Carlton, telling him that you already took a cab, but your vision blurred as soon as you started typing. You let out a frustrated huff, roughly wiping your damp cheeks, your eyes flickering over to the driver who had glanced at you for a second. At a stop light, he reached over to his glove compartment and produced a tissue box, handing it over to you. Letting out a meek “thank you”, you took it and pulled out two tissues to wipe your eyes and your running nose. He finally pulled up in front of your and Carlton’s shared apartment. You thanked him, giving him a generous tip before climbing out. Your crying episode had calmed down, being reduced to petty sniffling. You took a sharp intake of breath, pushing down your sadness and disappointment, trying not to get angry at the situation. Unlocking the front door, you were greeted by an empty apartment, as you expected. Maybe he was called in, you repeated to yourself.

You threw your bag onto the kitchen counter, toeing off your shoes and made a beeline to the bathroom where you ran a hot bath. You ignored the chaos in your mind as best as you could, running on autopilot. You tossed a bath bomb into the tub and laid out a fuzzy bathrobe and your favorite pajamas and underwear. Humming, you walked back to the kitchen, pulling out the small box of wine samplers that your coworker was giving out one day, selecting a white wine and a clean glass.

Then, you went back to the bedroom, digging for Carlton’s iPad and slipping it in an airtight ziploc bag and scrolling through netflix. When you found the TV show you wanted to binge watch, you peeled your clothes off as you made your way over to the bathroom, not minding the trail of clothes you left in your wake. You laid out the bamboo bathtub table that you made Carlton buy for you and set your items down before sinking into the warm eucalyptus and lavender scented water. Your phone buzzed from the bathroom counter, but you ignored it, focusing on the show as you sipped your white wine. Your stressful episode was long forgotten for the moment as you try to clear your mind of any intrusive thoughts while you enjoy yourself. Dora and Anne were right, you knew that, but giving him excuses was a bad habit that you’ve succumbed to. You were on the second season when you heard Carlton arriving, his keys jingling as you kicked his dress shoes off and place them on the metal shoe rack next to the door. You closed your eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of the water to steel yourself as he walked through the bedroom looking for you. “(Y/n)?” he called out. You heard rustling of clothes in the bedroom before he opened the bathroom door wider. “(Y/n), I’m so sorry- “ You shushed him, not bothering to look up at him. He sighed, the sound of his bare feet padding over to you and landing on the furry rug next to the tub. You took another sip of your wine, swishing it around your mouth before swallowing. He grabbed the wine glass away from you, much to your dismay, and knelt next to you. “Work called me about some materials that they’ve scanned on the comet and they’re going to go ahead and retrieve them. I just got so excited that I went over to read over the reports and… isn’t that exciting?” Carlton said, leaning on the edge of the tub. “It sure is, Carlton,” you said flatly. You could see Carlton wincing when you said his full name. You paid no mind to it, lifting your chin up and continued, “But you couldn’t have just asked them to send the reports to you? If you’re going to insist on picking me up right away, I’d expect you to pick me up right away because you said you will. I was fine catching ride with my friend or taking a cab. I didn’t have to wait outside the diner and watch people pass by for almost two hours.”

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but you held a finger up. Now that you had alcohol buzzing through you and making you calm, you could confront him without holding back. You didn’t want to cry anymore and you didn’t want to get heated up and angry before you say things you don’t mean. “I know how much your work means to you. We’re both busy and we knew what we were getting into when we started this relationship. I don’t mind that you were called in, because I sometimes get called into work as well, but you should have let me know instead of letting me wait there for so long. When something happens at work, I always let you know.” You paused to take another sip of wine.

“Lately, you haven’t properly communicated with me. I don’t know what’s going at Life, so the least you could do is tell me whether you’re not able to make it in time to pick me up, or that you’re coming home late, or you’re staying at the lab overnight. It’s tiring having to go after you to hear you so nonchalant about this situation while I’m by myself worrying about everything and everyone. I’m just… I am really tired, Carlton.” “What are you saying, sweetie?” he asked shakily. He grabbed your hand and peppered kisses all around it as he tried to make you look at him. “I’m trying here. Everything’s going according to plan and I can’t stop now. I’m making a better future for the world, for us. I want you to be there, by my side, when it happens.” You tried to pull your hand away, but he refused to budge, holding it close to his chest. “I admit that I was in the wrong,” he said, “I should be telling you things more when all you do is support and understand me and that’s more than I could ask for from anyone. I promise, this will be the last time, okay? You wanted to go to Singapore, right? We could do that. The space crew isn’t going be back for a while and you have a lot of vacation days saved up. We can go as soon as you’re ready. I’ll plan out everything from the reservations, all those food places, everything.” You considered his apology and his offer, finally turning your head and looked at his pleading eyes. You sighed, placing the iPad down on the table and leaned back. He silently waited as you drummed your fingers on the hard surface, then turned back to him. “You can’t keep doing this, Carlton,” you said firmly, “You can’t keep making promises then cover it up with good deeds and extravagant gifts every time you break them.” “Then what do you want me to do?” he snapped, making you pull your hand away. He dropped his head and exhaled. “I’m really trying, (y/n/n)! I thought you would have understood… you do, but… you just… I just…” You studied his face for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed his jaw clenching as his hand ran through his hair. Slowly, you lifted your hand to his cheek and made him look you in the eye. He tilted his head, leaning into your touch. “I just want you to be here. Like here, here. With me,” you said softly. He leaned forward, your foreheads touching. “Believe me, (Y/n/n), when I say that all I want is to share my life with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

The tension fell away as his words sunk in. He said it with so much certainty and you really wanted to believe him. The two of you hadn’t fought in a long time. You were glad that you were able to finally speak your mind and you hoped that the worst was over now that the both of you agreed on how to communicate. This was Carlton, the man that you bumped into at NYU and asked you out on the same day. The Carlton everyone sees seemed so put together, but he actually asks you for help to tie his tie. You hoped that you would help him separate your Carlton with Life’s Carlton, to leave work behind when he’s home with you.

“You’re making it really hard to stay mad at you,” you mumbled, bumping your nose with his.

“Good. And I will do anything to make it up to you.”

You hummed, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

You pushed the bamboo table away and stood up from the tub, using Carlton to balance as you climbed out. His eyes roamed your figure as you ringed your hair into the tub. You raised an eyebrow, pointing to the towel. He quickly fetched it and you stuck your arms out, allowing him to wrap it around you.

“So here’s what we’re going to do,” you said, tucking in the towel as his ears perked up, “You’re going to dry my hair while I finish up that rose wine and I’m going to make you watch any rom-com I want, got it?”

“Got it!”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re lucky that I love you.”

“I know.”

A/N: Kind of realize that I’m making Carlton a darker version of Alexander Hamilton... the musical one. Let me know what you guys think. I also realize a lot of my reader inserts deal with mental health and I’ve done it unintentionally, but I hope I’ve portrayed it well. I’ve been dealing with GAD and depression myself, so some of it is from personal experience.

#carlton drake x reader #Carlton Drake imagine #apples and cinnamon #venom 2018 #Riz Ahmed #marvel #I've rushed posting this

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main-to-card-games-and-pain · 5 years

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writing tag game

Oh shit guys it’s another tag game. lmao just ignore this if you don’t care.

1. How long have you been writing fanfic?

This is so embarrassing cause like, cringe, but everyone starts somewhere right? I started writing fanfic when I was nine years old, and I started with an Esme/Carlisle Twilight fic. I wrote it in the notes of my iPad, back when notes looked like yellow paper. So there’s a throwback for you.

2. Who most influences your writing style?

Oh shit, I honestly don’t know. In terms of my playwriting, I say as humbly as possible even though I know it’s gonna come off bitchy, I do?? I draw heavily on my “inner voice” to make the dialogue (which is pretty well all plays are when you’re writing them, stage directions can be written however you want) as well written as possible. And then I re-read the play later and if I don't like how it sounds I adapt it.

For fanfic probably @parkrstark @losingmymindtonight and @agib-2002, but they’re more of who I loved to read when I first started coming into the irondad fandom, and eventually I decided to write my own stories.

3. Favourite type of scene to write?

This, again, sounds awful but torture scenes. Just scenes that are absolutely dripping with angst and whump, emotional and physical, I LOVE that shit.

4. What trope is your favourite to write and/or read?

Protectiveness with some self-sacrifice thrown in. Again, generally in a captive/torture situation. I sound like a sick freak, eh? I just get a lot of feels when a character is so desperate to keep another safe that they will do ANYTHING to protect them.

5. What is one trope that you dislike?

I don't know if this counts as a trope or an AU but gender-bending. It’s just not my cup of tea. Same with OC’s being any more than antagonists and/or minor characters.

6. What AU do you wish to write but feel like you won’t manage?

Currently trying to muscle my way through a Disney AU I’ve literally been working on SINCE MARCH.

7. Do you outline, or write as you go?

Bit o’both. I just go generally, and then I think of something and go “wait! that’ll be good for later, these next few chapters have to lead up to that then.”

8. Past tense or present tense? Why?

Past, it’s just easier for me I think. Though I find in my writing that I kind of go between the two, (big no-no, I know, but alas,) depending on what I'm trying to convey in that scene. Present reminds me far too much of school essays.

9. Do you prefer to write one-shots or multi-chapters? Why?

It’s honestly a draw. I love the thrill of posting a story that people can anticipate and follow, since one-shots kind of fizzle if you’re not a well-known author. I also love planning out a multi-chapter fic, and all the character development and etc. But, if I’m just in the mood for some quick action, feeling, or a prompt won’t leave me alone, one-shot is my guy.

10. What is the kindest comment you’ve received on a fic? (Feel free to paraphrase or generalize!)

There is someone on my A03 that leaves the longest, most thoughtful comments on all of my work, even though their main fandom is Hamilton and now that I’ve half-transitioned to Irondad I don’t update that story as much anymore. Just, all their comments, I love them so much. It’s such a pick-me-up seeing those big paragraphs in my email with the comment.

11. What is the most gratifying aspect of writing fanfic for you?

The reactions of people who are reading. Like, truly, when I’m writing I try and imagine how the story is going to make someone feel and their reactions. That’s why I love comments cause I can share that experience with them a bit. :)

thanks for the tag @blondsak <3

#tag game #friends #mutuals #personal post #writing

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cieloxcnco · 6 years

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orgullo - part 1

Words: 2,000+

Warnings: language and angst. that’s it. going easy on you.

A/N: something I just worked on recently with the help of the lovely @writtersmindkdc (thank you as always for listening to me) that you guys deserve after I’ve been so MIA. hope you like it. this is going to be the first in a three part series.

I playfully tossed my newly won Tweety Bird stuffed animal at Chris’ head as he continued to laugh. “Shut up, Chris! It’s not funny!”

He was nearly doubled over, tears protruding at the drawn up corners of his eyes, choking on laughs between words. “And then you just skidded flat on your culito down the ramp. That was hilarious.” He had stopped walking behind me to be able to catch his breath.

I shook my head, biting my lip so I wouldn’t admit he was right. If the roles were reversed, I would have found him falling down a roller coaster exit ramp into a puddle like I did absolutely hilarious. “Good. I’m glad you found it funny. I’m jumping into a pair of your sweats then- the back of my jeans are soaked.”

“They’re in the side left side of the blue duffel on my bunk,” he called as I walked ahead of him, punching in the code to unlock the tour bus door.

There was no usual chaos in the bus, vacant save for Zabdiel sitting in the corner of the table’s booth, picking quick chords on his guitar.

“Hey, Zabdiel,” I said in passing, trying not to read into the solemn expression on his face.

“Hi,” he replied sharply, not taking his eyes off of the fingers holding the strings against the neck.

I poked my head back out from Chris’s bunk after finding the comfiest pants I wanted to steal. “¿Estas bien?”

His tone had been flat, even, void of any emotion. That wasn’t the Zabdiel I knew. But there he sat. “Si.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” I said.

He gave a very slight shrug of his shoulders and continued playing the chords to ‘Tu Luz’.

“Where is everybody?” I continued, trying to see if I could get any sort of response from him.

“Out,” he shot back.

With it not seeming like he was going to give much more of an answer, I prodded. “Where?”

He let out an aggravated sigh. “Joel, Erick, y Richard estan en el Stone Pony. Creo que hay un concierto allí.”

I hopped into Chris’s bunk with the curtain drawn and changed out of my jeans and wet underwear, jumping into his sweats commando. “They didn’t say anything about going to a concert.”

“It was kind of last minute,” he answered, hitting a wrong chord and slamming his hand against the table.

There wasn’t any skirting around it anymore. He was rarely angry, and this was bad. “Zabdiel, ¿que te pasa?”

“Estoy bien. Did you have fun with Christopher?” I’d never heard him say his friend’s name with such venom before.

“Chris had told me you had plans tonight so we just went to Six Flags...” I trailed off, knowing there had to be more to this to analyze.

It was scary in itself to see Zabdiel angry. It was the Mr. Hyde to his Dr. Jekyll- his normally bright and smiling eyes were dark and clouded. His hair matched the pallor of his usually warm face. But the most alarming part of him holding on to any kind of anger was that it wasn’t explosive. He was almost never vocal about it, but he would just shut down completely, like he was before my eyes now.

I tried to put two and two together. “You weren’t here- are you upset that we didn’t invite you to come along?”

He stopped playing completely, flashing a resigned smile of utter disbelief before he bit down on his pick, clenching his teeth. “No lo entiendes.”

His attitude was getting me agitated now, and I knew this wasn’t going to be pretty. He may have been one to simmer when angry, but I was liable to be volcanic. “What did I do that you’re so pissed off?”

“Olvídalo,” he roared, shoving his guitar into his bunk and stalking over to the kitchen area, searching through the cabinet for a distraction.

I was gritting my teeth. “Zabdiel, don’t blow me off! Obviously you’re mad at me, and if you are, I deserve to know why.”

Fire sparked in his eyes when he turned to look at me. “The fact that you don’t even know is the mystery to me.”

“I can’t if you don’t talk to me!” The volume of my voice went higher without me realizing.

He shouted back, “Why would I? Everything I say, you don’t listen to anyway.” Out of anxious habit, he ran his fingertips back and forth across his scalp, reaching for his former curls to only find the short buzz beneath.

At that, Christopher had unlocked the door and was hopping up the bus stairs. “Hey, guys, did you know if-”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snapped back at Zabdiel.

"I said to forget it!" Zabdiel countered.

Chris quickly surveyed the scene and turned right around and out the door. “- creo que debo regresar despues.”

Our focus hadn’t left the heat of each other’s eyes. “Zabdiel, honestly, what the f-”

“It’s not worth arguing over. Forget about it,” he seethed, grabbing the closest snack bag in the closet and toying with it just to give his fingers purpose.

I tried not to let the desperation show in my voice. “How am I going to forget about it when you’re so angry at me?”

His strong stone wall finally collapsed and he growled, “What did we talk about this morning?”

I stopped. CNCO had played a show in Baltimore the night before and was scheduled for a concert in New York City the next day. To make our way up, we stopped in south Jersey to have one day to enjoy ourselves close to the beach before we kept driving. Everyone had different ideas about what to do on our one day off, but I certainly would have remembered if Zabdiel had said anything specific. I stood for a moment, trying to recall word for word so I couldn’t be tripped up. “What we wanted for breakfast? When we had to leave so we’d be in New York in time? Who took your iPad?”

The fire in his eyes died down as they held on to mine. “You made plans with me and you just go spend all day with Chris.”

“We didn’t make plans,” I protested. “No dijiste-”

The angry shouting was gone, replaced by a slow, melancholy tone. “I said I had a surprise for you tonight and asked if you were free. I wanted to do something nice for you- and you just didn’t care.”

“Zabdiel,” I started solemnly.

He cut me off quickly. “It’s fine. I’m glad to know you’d rather spend the time with my friend. I’m glad I know now rather than...” He drifted into thought but stopped himself just as fast. “No te preocupes. Todo esta bien.”

I shook my head and sighed. I had always loved being around the band. Having been friends with Erick growing up, it was just an excuse to have me be the band’s makeup artist on tour. I had grown close to all the boys after La Banda, like I was part of the family. But Zabdiel was different. I had one of those quintessential schoolgirl crushes on the friend of the guy I considered my brother. And the way we clicked when we all hung out, it just felt right. Our personalities meshed, our interests were the same, our humor was compatible, but neither of us ever approached the dangerous line that separated ‘friends’ and ‘something more’.

In all the time I had lived basically on their tour bus, I hadn’t witnessed much fighting. They all got along as friends before La Banda and were just lucky with the draw. During the few fights that I had seen, Zabdiel was the calm mediator. He was rarely ever the offended party- he always let things roll off his back. The fact that something had gotten this deep under his skin, especially that the something was me, was a painful realization.

“Just go,” he muttered. “He’s looking for you.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?” I spat, channeling my frustration rather than my hurt.

“I don’t want to deal with this right now,” he mumbled to himself, barely at a level that I could hear, going to walk past me.

“Deal with me? My apologies, Zabdiel. I didn’t realize that was such a difficulty,” I snarled sarcastically. His eyes reignited, stopping to stand in front of me as I continued, “If you planned something, you didn’t make that clear. I’m sorry we had a misunderstanding, but you don’t have to jump down my throat!”

It took a few moments for the rage to stop pumping through me and to focus on him. But with my eyes locked on his like this, my heart kept thrumming. We were so close, and it was taking every bit of self control not to reach up and kiss him like I so desperately wanted to.

That was when the emotion in his face became palpable to me. This wasn’t anger. He wasn’t furious with what I had done. This wasn’t disappointment. He might have made plans with me but it wasn’t like we couldn’t plan something else eventually.

He was consumed by the fact that I had spent the evening alone with Chris rather than him. This was jealousy.

Our proximity had me breathless. “Zabdiel,” I gasped, feeling us drawing close to each other. His face was mere millimeters from my own, his mouth so close and almost offering invitation.

And the bus door opened again, Richard and Joel bounding up the stairs with Erick in tow. Chris tiptoed in behind, apprehensive of what he was walking into. But Zabdiel had already stormed away from me and sat in the corner of the booth, his legs stretched down a whole seat to keep anyone from being next to him.

“¿Que tal, traviesa?,” Richard said, hugging me and handing me back my stuffed Tweety Bird. “Looks like your night out was a success. Chris said he won you this.”

At that, my eyes went to find Zabdiel, but with his back to me I couldn’t see his face.

“He did. It was a lot of fun,” I answered, trying to piece my smiling facade back together. “How was the concert by the beach?”

“Amazing,” he said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “But I’m exhausted. We’ll talk about it on the drive to New York in the morning?”

I nodded, following everyone’s lead and jumping into our bunks. I turned over, putting my earbuds in and trying to fall asleep, but just hearing his voice singing in my head made my heart ache too much to find rest.

The bus got quiet quickly, everyone intent on sleep before the anticipated schedule of tomorrow. All lights slowly went out, leaving only Erick and Zabdiel sitting in the silence. Erick tapped the tips of his converse against the floor and Zabdiel rested his chin on his knuckles.

“¿Estas bien, Zabdi?” Erick asked slowly, almost hesitant.

His tone was even and low. “She was at the amusement park with Chris the whole time. We got into an argument.”

“Yeah, Chris told us outside before we came in. He heard part of it.” Erick shed his jacket and put his feet up to rest on the seat across the aisle. “Did you tell her you had gotten the tickets to the concert so you could go with her? That you gave them to us because you didn’t want to go to see her favorite band without her?”

He only shook his head. “She would rather be with Chris. I’m not going to make a fool out of myself by showing my feelings.”

Erick raised his eyebrows incredulously. “Make a fool out of yourself? Zabdiel, you love-”

Zabdiel cut his bandmate off quickly. “If she makes it that obvious that she doesn’t feel the same, she doesn’t need to know how I feel.”

Erick rolled his eyes and kicked his shoes off, shaking his head. At times like this, the only thing stronger than Zabdiel’s angry resolve was his pride.

Part 2 now here

#cnco #cnco fanfic #cnco fanfiction #cnco imagine

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onlybucket · 4 years

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Tuesday, March 31

2020

8AM

Quarantine is going alright. I started a Discord server for emos. I have two legit members so far and a bunch of people join to either advertise themselves or to call me the n-word and demand that I hand over my “gay ass server.” Life is good.

I’m getting more and more annoyed with my siblings every day. I hate when my genuine feelings are passed off as “teenage angst.”

I’m changing my name to Caspian. I know there’s a stereotype of trans men picking really weird names but I just really like the name.

I finally payed off my iPad and can start earning allowance again. I’m hoping to make money off of my Youtube channel instead of having to do chores but we’ll see.

I wanna start a band.

I made a really cute digital drawing of that skeleton thing from MCR and my friends seemed to like it.

I spent most of my weekends playing Roblox and listening to Creepypastas. I want to create a comic out of the creepypastas.

I’m pretty bad at getting my online schooling assignments done but i’m getting better.

I did a poem for one of my assignments and Mrs. Hughes really liked it.

about a week ago, Lizzy asked me to let Jens dogs out and feed them. Daisy looked really old and week. It was really sad to see her this way because i’ve known her for so long and she’s a really good Chihuahua. It’s just that I can tell she’s about at the end of her rope and it’s really sad to think about. I noticed the same thing about Amberlys dog a day before they had to put it down.

3PM

Today went good. I ate popcorn and ramen for lunch. I have work to catch up on but i’m procrastinating on it.

I’m gonna memorize the url to Never Gonna Give You up to avoid getting fooled.

Im currently video chatting with Amy and Eliana

#tuesday #march #31 #2020

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hannahindie · 7 years

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White Lies

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam Word Count: 5,167 Warnings: Angst…so much. There’s some happiness, and the BAM. Angst. A/N: This is my entry for @highonpastries 250 follower challenge! The prompt is bolded below. This was going to be a much longer series, but I shortened it so that I could fit the prompt a little better. There’s a possibility I will write more. It’s really up to ya’ll at this point. lol I hope you enjoy, and also, I’m sorry in advance. Beta'd by the always wonderful @trexrambling. She helps me be a better writer and I love her. p>

Tags, as always, are listed below. If you would like to be added, or if I have accidentally left you off, please let me know so I can update my lists! Feedback is always welcome!

You didn’t know how you’d found yourself in this situation. Standing in the pouring rain, tears cascading down your face, watching the tail lights of the one person you’d counted on the most fading into the darkness. You weren’t sure when you went from being a priority to someone he just left behind, like you never mattered in the first place. When this day had started, you’d thought it might have been the beginning to something better, something worth the fight you went through every day. Instead, it had ended with yelling, words that neither one of you could take back, and the devastating thought that you’d seen the Winchesters for the last time. You let the rain wash over you as you stared down the dark and empty road. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and your heart broke when you opened the message and saw three simple words from Sam.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. -S”

Three Days Earlier

You were organizing the myriad of lore books that had somehow found their way scattered around your house when the phone in your pocket started buzzing and interrupted you from your mundane chore.

“Y/N speaking,” you answered as you tucked the phone between your ear and your shoulder and continued picking up books.

“Hey! It’s Sam.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face as the familiar voice sounded from the other end of the line, “Hey Sammy, what’s up?”

He cleared his throat and gave you his normal response, “It’s Sam, Y/N. Just Sam.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Yea, yea, alright. What’s up, Sam?”

You heard the shuffle of papers and what sounded like a laptop snapping shut, “We’ve got a case near you, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with. We could use your help. We’ll be driving right by your place, if you’re up for it.”

You looked around at the mess of books and sighed, “Yes, please. I need out of here, anyway. When will you guys be here?”

“We’re getting ready to leave the hotel right now, so probably around three hours or so. We can grab something on the way, don’t worry about food or anything.”

You laughed, “Seriously? I’m not letting you get by on gas station pizza or whatever it is you’ll find out there. I’ll have dinner ready when you get here, alright?”

You could almost hear the smile in Sam’s voice, “Thanks, Y/N, appreciate it. See you soon.” The line went dead, and you grinned to yourself. It had been a few months since you’d seen the brothers, and although you texted back and forth fairly frequently, you’d missed them. This was a welcome surprise, and you were excited to get to hunt with them again.

You hurriedly restacked a few of the books to at least attempt to make the house look more presentable and hurried into the kitchen to see what you had. A quick look told you that there wasn’t enough food in the house for one Winchester, much less two, so you threw your coat on and made your way to the store, happy that you finally had someone else to cook for and especially happy that it was for your favorite men.

Three hours later, the kitchen was filled with the smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread. You were mixing the salad when you heard a knock on the door.

“Coming!” you yelled, wiping your hands on a dishcloth before running to answer it. You threw the door open and there stood Sam and Dean, both smiling widely at you, “Hey guys!”

Sam swept you into a giant hug first, and you almost disappeared in his large arms,”Hey, Y/N,” he pulled back and smiled at you, “How are you?”

You returned the smile, “I’m doing pretty well, it’s been quiet lately.” Sam nodded, and walked towards the living room, immediately making himself at home.

Dean sauntered in directly behind Sam, his smile bright, “Hey, darlin’, it’s been awhile.” He pulled you into him, and you couldn’t help but breathe in the smell of gun oil and leather, a scent that was purely Dean and one that you’d never forget. You felt his lips press gently against your forehead and for a moment you were worried he’d be able to hear how he made your heart race. You loved both of the Winchesters, but Dean…there had always been something about Dean.

His deep voice broke you out of your reverie, “Something smells damn delicious, Y/N. You really shouldn’t have.” You pulled back and looked at him, his green eyes sparkling in the afternoon sunlight coming in through the window, and smiled.

“Hey, anything for my guys. If it takes cooking up some lasagna to get you to come see me, I’ll keep doing it.”

“Lasagna?” He took off towards the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but laugh. By the time you’d made it in there, he was leaning over the still hot pan, his eyes closed, and a look of contentment on his face, “There is nothing better than your lasagna, Y/N. Keep this up, I might have to marry ya.”

Sam wandered into the kitchen, “World famous lasagna, huh? Need help with anything?”

You handed him a knife and gestured toward the counter, “Just finishing up the salad if you’d like to finish chopping the rest of these vegetables,” you glanced at Dean who was already trying to sneak a piece of lasagna out of the pan, “but you might want to hurry since your brother is trying to beat us to the entree.”

Dean quietly dropped the knife and sat down at the table, “You caught me, I can’t help myself. She’s right though, Sammy, maybe hurry up so that we can get this show on the road, huh?”

Almost a full pan of lasagna later, the three of you sat leaned back in your chairs, full and content.

Dean stretched, “That…that was great. You’ve outdone yourself again, Y/N.”

You smiled as you got up and began cleaning the table off, “You’re just used to eating gas station and diner food, but thanks for the compliment.” You tossed the dirty dishes in the sink, then leaned against the counter. “So, what brings you this way? Sam said you had a case.”

Dean nodded, “Yep, we think it might be a shapeshifter situation. Should be fairly simple, but we figured since we were this way we’d share the fun.”

Sam had left the room and returned with his iPad which he then handed to you, “There’s been three murders, and all three were supposedly done by people who were already dead. Witnesses put the deceased at the scene, but the police are claiming it’s just shock and that they don’t have any other leads.”

You scrolled through the police reports and paused at one of the crime scene photos, “That’s brutal, even for a shapeshifter. And why would they choose someone that is already dead? Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?”

Dean shrugged, “The people it’s imitating had just recently died, so the shapeshifter must of have been watching them beforehand. We don’t know why, though, or why it’s as violent as it is. I mean, who can tell with monsters anyway? They don’t really need a reason.”

You scoffed, “Everyone has a reason for what they do, Dean, even monsters.” You went back to scrolling, “Are you sure it’s just the one shapeshifter?”

Sam nodded, “Yea, pretty sure. Why?”

You walked over to the table and sat down between Sam and Dean, “Look at this picture. The wounds are clean, probably pretty quick. I’d say it was done out of convenience, not to draw anything out or get any sort of pleasure out of it. But this one,“ you flipped to the next victims file, “is totally different. The shifter took its time, like it enjoyed it. This wasn’t clean or quick. Why would the same shifter behave in two different ways? Monsters are like serial killers; they stick with an MO, they don’t switch it up normally. So why did this one?”

Sam took the iPad and looked back through the photos, “I can’t believe I missed that. Good eye, Y/N.” You settled back in your chair, pleased with yourself. It wasn’t often that you could one up Sam. He was one of the smartest people you’d ever met, so you relished it when it happened. Dean glanced at you and winked, and you couldn’t help but smile back. God help you, he was going to be the end of you.

Sam stretched and tried to stifle a yawn, “It’s been a long day, and we’ve got an early appointment with the coroner tomorrow. I think I might head to bed.”

Dean glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, “I think I’ll stay up awhile longer, Sammy. See you in the morning.”

Sam looked between the two of you and rolled his eyes, “Yea, right. See you tomorrow.”

Dean waited until Sam was safely around the corner, and then he gripped your hips with his large hands and swept you from your chair onto his lap. “I thought he’d never leave.” One of his hands found its way into your hair and pulled you into him. His lips crashed into yours and you gasped at the intensity of it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, desperate to be as close to Dean as you could.

Every time the brothers stopped by, this is where you and Dean found yourselves. It didn’t matter if it had been months, you fell into each other like it was just something that was understood but never spoken. You’d always hoped that he felt the same way, that his heart raced at the sight of you, that he felt as breathless as you after that first kiss when you hadn’t seen each other for months. He never said anything though, and if Dean Winchester was anything, he was hard to read. You took the moments you could even if they were brief. You pulled back from him, your face flush, and smiled. His brilliant green eyes were lust blown and you could feel the familiar fire you felt every time he looked at you like that.

He ran his thumb along your jawline, his eyes locked with yours, “God, I’ve missed you. We gotta quit going months without seeing each other. Why do we do that, anyway?”

You smiled, “You Winchesters are always having to stop some sort of apocalypse, or put the devil back in his cage. It’s a little hard to work around.”

Dean chuckled, “You aren’t wrong.” He kissed you again, and his hands wandered down to rest on your ass. You shifted, purposely shimmying against the hardness you felt against your thigh, and he moaned into you. “Shit, Y/N,” he growled deeply as his lips traveled slowly down to the dip at your throat. He nipped along your collarbone, planting soft kisses at each spot, then moved back up and gently pulled your earlobe between his teeth. You groaned, gripping the short hair at the base of his neck, and dropped your head back to give him better access to your neck. You could feel him smile against you as he kissed his way back to your lips, his five o’clock shadow rough against your soft skin. His tongue slid slowly across your lips and you parted for him, letting his tongue move slowly with yours. You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth, then pulled back. He was breathing heavy and his freckles stood out in stark contrast to the flush across his cheeks. You wanted to thank God personally for each and every one of those blessed freckles and how artfully he dusted them across those perfect cheekbones.

“Get on the table,” he said lustily, already pulling his shirt off as he shifted you onto the floor and stood up.

You raised an eyebrow, “You mean, you want….like, right here?”

He nodded as he began to unbuckle his belt, “Yep. Right here. We’ve waited long enough, why bother going upstairs?” He pulled you against him and you quietly groaned at the feeling of his bare chest pressing warmly against you, “Unless you don’t want to-”

“Shut up, Winchester, and take off your pants.”

You smiled as he did what he was told, and your heart swelled as you realized that no matter where the two of you were or what was happening, you at least had these brief moments where you could be free of responsibility, free of hunting, free of all the heartache that seemed to follow you, and just be with each other.

Present day

The ride back to your house was dead silent. For what could have gone wrong during the hunt, it did and then some.

You sat in the back of the Impala, grimacing at every bump that jostled your bloody and beaten body. You kept glancing up in the rearview mirror in hopes of catching Dean’s eye, but he was glaring through the windshield and purposely ignoring you. You leaned your head tenderly against the cold window and watched as the rain began to fall. Sam had not spoken either, although he had gently helped you into the backseat and then gave you a lopsided smile as if to comfort you.

You had been right; there were two shifters, and though one was your standard “just in it for the money and nice things” aspect the second one…well, that one had been hard to deal with. It was clever, full of hatred, and out for revenge. The hate it had for the Winchesters went back for years, and unfortunately for you, its sights had been set. These things always knew that the best way to destroy a Winchester was to destroy someone that they loved, and it had come after you with a vengeance.

You thought back to the moment you should have known something was wrong, the moment where you let your heart get ahead of your brain.

A few hours earlier…

You found the hiding places of both shifters and had already dealt with the one. You were proud of yourself; you had been able to sneak up on it and nail it with the silver knife before it had even realized what was happening. You were feeling so good about it that you had decided to split off from Sam and Dean, much to Dean’s irritation, but he had quickly shut his mouth when you threw a glare in his direction. That had been your first mistake. You knew better than to get cocky, and had you thought about the second shifter and how different it behaved than the first one, you probably would have reconsidered being by yourself.

As you were circling the dark and abandoned power station with your gun drawn, you felt another swell of pride. You could tell Dean hadn’t wanted to let you go on your own, but it had only taken a look to shut down his normal “I have to protect you” speech, and you had to wonder if he finally realized that you could actually take of yourself. You hunted on your own on occasion; you knew what you were doing.

A footstep behind you caught you off-guard and you whipped around, gun leveled at their chest, and then let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was Dean, “Don’t you know better than to sneak up behind a hunter when they’re actively searching for something that’s trying to kill them?”

Dean laughed, “Sorry, I thought you knew it was me. Find anything useful?”

You shook your head, “Nah, not yet. I saw a door over there though, we should probably go inside. It’s the perfect hiding place, dark and damp. Why do they always go for the most disgusting places?

He shrugged, “At least it isn’t a sewer this time.” You noticed that instead of having his gun drawn, Dean was holding a knife by his side. It glinted in the dim light.

You nodded towards him, “Where’s your gun?”

He glanced down at his hand and shrugged, “I was thinking of taking the quiet approach.” He stepped towards you and you smiled gently at him, thinking of the past couple of nights. It wasn’t often that you had alone time with Dean, and you’d been able to sneak off two nights in a row. You’d felt a little guilty leaving Sam to research on his own, but the selfish side of you had relished the opportunity. Dean stopped directly in front of you and stared you down, a dangerous glint in his normally friendly green eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, “What?” He put his hand on your hip and pulled you into him as if he was going to kiss you but stopped just short of your lips and smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, and your chest tightened as you realized that something was wrong. “Dean?” you barely whispered. The hand holding the knife came up and pressed the silver blade against your collarbone. “Not Dean,” you thought to yourself in a panic. You tried to back up but you felt the shifter’s free hand close tightly around your wrist.

He tilted his head and clucked his tongue, “Where do you think you’re going, Y/N? I thought you wanted to be the one to stop me, huh?” He traced the knife across your collarbone and up your neck, the metal cold against your bare skin. You could feel the tip of the knife dimple the soft flesh right below your jaw. The hand holding your wrist slipped down and removed the gun that you were still gripping tightly and tossed it away from you. You heard it skitter across the parking lot and your heart dropped. “Awwe, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m feeling generous today, and it’s been a long week. How ‘bout I make this real quick, just a quick swipe across your throat and we’re done? Deano is pretty frustrated with your choices this evening, so it’ll be especially bothersome if you get yourself killed. You made it far too easy, honestly.”

You glared at the shifter, allowing your anger towards yourself to combine with the hatred you felt for the creature and managed to shove him away from you as hard as you could. You tripped backwards and nearly fell on your ass but managed to stay on your feet. As you were flailing to keep your balance he thrust out quick and hard, and you cried out as searing pain traveled from the inside of your elbow down to your wrist. You looked quickly for the gun and finally spotted it about ten feet to your right. Just as you went to run for it, a fist connected with your jaw and you hit the ground.

“I was going to make this easy on you, and then you had to go and do that,” the shifter growled as he grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked your head up so that you were forced to look at him. He glared at you for a moment and then your head rocked backward violently from the sudden blow he dealt. The pain from your body weight nearly ripping your hair out by the root brought tears to your eyes, and you choked back a sob.

He forced you to look back up at him, and you stared at him with narrowed eyes, “If that’s what you call making it difficult I hate to disappoint you, but I’ve had worse,” you spat, your blood bright even on the dark asphalt you were kneeling on. The shifter smiled coldly down at you and your chest constricted at the sight of the face that you loved, the face that belonged to the one person you trusted everything to, looking at you as if you were an animal to be hunted.

“Oh, I’m sure I can kick it up a couple notches.” He released the grip on your hair, but in the same movement kicked out as hard as he could.

The air left your lungs as his boot connected with your ribcage, and this time you couldn’t stifle the sob that left you, “Dean…please…stop…” you begged breathlessly.

He knelt down in front of you and tilted his head, “Oh, sweetheart, I might look like Dean, but I’m sure as hell not going to act like Dean. I’m not your hero, and as a matter of fact,” he closed his eyes and smiled, “I don’t think he wants to be your hero either. He’s got enough people to take care of. I’m not so sure you rank as high up on the list as you thought.” He patted you roughly on the cheek and then walked over to where the gun had landed and picked it up, “I was going to make this fast and clean, but I think killing you with your own gun seems a lot more satisfying now.” He cocked the pistol and leveled it at your head, “Anything you wanna get off your chest, last words, or maybe any confessions of unrequited love? Does ol’ Deano know how you feel? Come on, you’ve gotta have something to say.” You dropped your head to where your forehead rested on the warm asphalt and remained silent.

“Hey, dick!” Your head jerked up in time to see the shifter turn and then a flash. Even though you knew it wasn’t really Dean, you felt a brief moment of panic as you saw the shifter hit the ground, chest bloody. You sat up slowly and saw Dean, still with the gun up, staring at the fallen shifter.

Sam ran up beside him and slid to a stop, breathing heavily and his eyes wide, ‘Y/N, are you okay?”

You looked down at the deep gash running down your arm and chuckled weakly, “Eh, I’ve had worse. Although,” you said as you looked up at them, “are there supposed to be two of each of you?” Dean moved to inspect your arm and you automatically flinched away from him, your mind still on the shifter. Hurt flashed across his face as he backed away and you looked at him apologetically, “I’m sorry Dean, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” he answered gruffly, “Sammy, take care of her. I’ll deal with the body.” Dean strode off in the direction of the Impala and Sam knelt down beside you so that he could take inventory of your injuries.

“You’re going to need stitches, and I’m pretty sure you probably have a concussion. Come on, let’s get you to the car and at least get the bleeding stopped, okay?”

You nodded weakly, “Sure. Is…is Dean okay?”

Sam looked back over his shoulder as he lifted you gently off the ground, “Yea…he’ll be fine. Come on.”

Your thoughts were interrupted as the Impala turned down the gravel driveway that led to your house. The car slowed to a stop and Dean turned off the engine, although he didn’t make a move to get out. You slipped quietly from the back seat with your bag and slowly crossed in front of the Impala and towards the sidewalk that ended at your porch. Sam climbed out after you and followed you up to the steps. You sat the bag on the top step and turned to face the youngest Winchester, “Are you guys planning on staying the night? It’s pretty late.”

Sam turned toward the Impala and you saw Dean barely shake his head no before Sam turned back to face you, “Uhh…no, I think we are going to head back. Cas is waiting for us at the bunker.”

You tilted your head, confusion etched on your face, “You’re going to drive six hours in the middle of the night because Cas is waiting on you? Can he not wait until morning?”

Sam dropped his gaze to the ground, “Yea, he’s got a lead on a case, said it was urgent.” Sam may have been good at lying to everyone else, but he’d never been able to lie to you. You looked around him at Dean’s silhouette sitting in the driver’s seat, his hands still tightly gripping the wheel, and realized he was going to leave without even saying goodbye.

You looked back at Sam, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Sam looked at you, his hazel eyes concerned and his eyebrows furrowed, but remained silent.

You walked past Sam and squinted against the headlights, “What’s your deal, Winchester?” you shouted over the rain that was now hammering down. Dean sat still a moment longer, then flung the door open and climbed out. You stopped just short of the Impala’s hood and waited for him to say something.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? You nearly got yourself killed tonight. You would have if I hadn’t been there to save your ass.”

You looked at him, baffled, “That’s what this is about? I make one mistake and you’re so angry at me that you’re refusing to even come inside, much less say bye to me? What the hell, Dean?”

He took a step closer to you, his hands balled into fists at his side, “One mistake?” he scoffed, “Try five, or six, or ten. It seems like I’m having to clean up after you every time we hunt together. You’d think that someone that hunts as often as you claim to would be better at it.”

It felt like someone had punched you in the chest. Dean had never spoken to you like this, and you weren’t sure what to even say. You could feel the tears threatening to fall, and you tried to hold them back as you locked eyes with Dean, “When have I…when did you have to clean up after me? I don’t understand…”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Do I really need to list them out? Poughkeepsie, or what about that time in Sacramento? Then there was the time in Milwaukee, that was a fun one. I could keep going, but do I really need to? Y/N, I like you. I do. But I’m tired…I’m tired of having to make sure you’re not getting killed. Tired of having these…these expectations every time we come through.”

You felt sick to your stomach as you realized what he was referring to, “Expectations? I didn’t have any expectations. But now I have to ask, was any of what we had…did I…” you nearly choked on the words you so desperately didn’t want to say “…am I significant or just convenient?”

Dean looked at you through the pouring rain, and for a moment you thought this wasn’t really happening. You were still laying in the backseat of the Impala, and this was a dream…no, a nightmare. But not real, because your Dean would never say those words to you, would never break your heart while you were standing in the pouring rain like some cliche chick flick.

“Y/N, I uh…I thought you knew what this was. I mean, it was fun. It was a nice distraction, but it was just…it was a nice way to blow off steam. I’m sorry.”

“Leave,” you said, barely loud enough to be heard, “I want you to leave.” You heard footsteps approach, and you closed your eyes as Sam’s large hand landed on your shoulder.

“Y/N…”

You jerked away from him and tried to ignore the look he gave you, “I said…I want you to leave. I never want to see either of you again. Just go!” Dean had already climbed back into the car and started it. Sam held back, torn between trying to talk to you and going with his brother.

“C’mon Sammy, let’s go,” Dean yelled from the car. Sam looked at you pleadingly, begging you silently to let him fix it.

“Just go, Sam. Please…just leave.” He sighed, then turned and slowly walked to the car. He gave you one last look before folding his tall frame into the passenger seat. Dean pulled out of the driveway and sped off, and you were left watching the tail lights fade into the distance.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. - S”

Dean was silent as he sped away from Y/N’s house, but he could feel Sam staring at him, “What?” he snapped.

“You know what,” Sam said quietly, his gaze finally shifting from Dean to look out his window.

“Leave it alone, Sammy.” Dean’s grip tightened on the wheel and he forced himself to keep driving towards home instead of turning around and going back to Y/N. It had nearly killed him to say what he’d said to her.

He wanted to tell her that he would save her every single time she needed it, that he’d be there to fix every hurt and soothe every nightmare. He wanted to tell her that she wasn’t just a convenience, that she was more than that. He wanted to tell her that when he found himself alone at night, he wished that she was laying next to him so that he could feel the warmth radiate from her as the gentle sound of her breathing soothed him after a tough hunt. He wanted her to know that on nights that he did get to stay with her, he barely slept. He barely slept because he couldn’t stop looking at how her freckles made constellations across her bare shoulders or how he was afraid that when he’d wake up she’d be gone. He wanted her to understand that he had never been all that impressed with other hunters, but watching her fight was almost mesmerizing to the point of being dangerous. She was a beautiful distraction and it took every bit of willpower he possessed to stay focused while she was with him.

Which is why he had to leave. He had heard her begging that shifter, had heard her wrecked voice begging Dean to stop, and it was at that moment that he realized that even if it wasn’t him physically hurting her, it would always come back around to him. He would always be the reason she was in danger, and after Charlie and Kevin, Bobby and Jo and Ellen…he couldn’t live with that again. Especially not with Y/N.

So he had done what he had to do. He had destroyed her, throwing the most important relationship he’d ever had right back in her face, and then he’d walked away. He had lied to the woman he loved most in this world and left her alone in the rain, bloody and heartbroken.

And it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda @wheresthekillswitch @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @emptywithout @escabell @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @deanssweetheart23 @amionthetumbler @dean-winchesters-baby @aubreyreadsstuff

Dean Only: @lavieenlex @akshi8278 @valkyrieslament @highonpastries

#Pastries 250 Celebration #angst #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x reader #reader insert #this one hurt to write #i'm sorry

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ulyssessklein · 5 years

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Brotherhood of the Guitar: Jacob Reese Thornton

Interview by: Rick Landers

Jacob Thornton Reese: Image courtesy of Robert M. Knight.

With hot young talent waiting in the wings, like Jacob Reese Thornton, it won’t be long before a new generation of guitarists will rearrange the musical landscape from theatrics and synthetic musical hype, and take it back to gut level guitar work grounded in traditional roots, but with a willingness and a drive to explore more than the pentatonic scale.

With a nod to tradition and a bent toward split second riffs, Thornton reworked some Chuck Berry terraforms into a heavy fueled Christmas romp of his own making, “Run, Rudolph, Run” (Marks & Brodie). And even that’s a grab at tradition that was explored by the likes of The Beach Boys, The Beatles and others who couldn’t resist Chuck’s foundational licks.

Jacob Reese Thornton is a 15 year old songwriter and guitar prodigy based in South Florida. Jacob writes and plays rock and blues with precision, depth and a passion that belies his age. Jacob first picked up the guitar at age 9, and has hardly put it down since. Check out Thornton’s track, “Bombs Away” to get a fix on the lad’s guitar skills and talents, as well as his ability to capture center stage as well as many well-known front men.

Thanks to a number of outstanding musical mentors, Jacob quickly developed a reputation as a gifted up and coming young artist. Jacob has traded licks onstage with blues legend Buddy Guy, and his remarkable live videos have collectively received nearly 1 million views on social media.

Jacob’s varied influences include Stevie Ray Vaughan, Elmore James, the Rolling Stones, the Beatles, Chuck Berry, Dire Straits, Neil Young, Foo Fighters, Cheap Trick, Joan Jett, the Ramones, Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, the Allman Brothers Band, the Clash and Miles Davis, among many others.

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Rick Landers: Well, here comes Christmas and I see you’ve covered those snowy tracks with a Chuck Berry laden romp, “Run, Rudolph, Run”. I dug the spirit of your song and your break crunched along with great angst, but really mostly a fun romp. What brought that on and were you able to pull that lead In during the session or did you have it in your hip pocket already?

Jacob Reese Thornton: Thanks! I’m a big Chuck Berry fan and Rudolph is a fun song I used to throw into my live set around the holidays. It was a blast to make. My friend Bryce Kretz did an amazing job on the drums, and I pretty much did everything else. The solo was mapped on the fly. I just went with what felt right. What I like most about the track are the rhythm parts. The main riff is two guitars blended and panned, one of which is in an open tuning. It gives it a chainsaw sound, which I love. I’m stoked it’s gotten a good reception and even some radio airplay.

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Rick: Learning guitar has come a long way from dropping the needle on a 45 over and over again until you figured out the licks to today, where there’s Youtube, in-person lessons, figuring out licks with friends and more. What and who were you able you able to draw from to figured out how to run up and down the neck?

Jacob Reese Thornton: Yeah, there are lots of options for learning. When I started, I would play along with my favorite songs and first try to figure it out myself. It was a challenge. If I couldn’t, then I would go to YouTube. I listened to lot of different stuff like Green Day, Lindsey Buckingham, Eric Clapton, Neil Young, etcetera.

Billie Joe Armstrong is a great place to start with guitar because a lot of his songs are just three power chords and the truth! I also began playing live at a young age, with older musicians who taught me a lot. I learned that what not to play is just as important, and to seek tone before speed. I see a lot of young players hide behind distortion or expression pedals. My teacher, Fritz Dorigo, always emphasized tone and precision. If the note sounds great let it hang a little longer, you know?

Jason Reese Thornton – Image courtesy of Robert M. Knight.

Rick: Were any members of your family inspirational or helping you follow your dream to make a hobby a profession?

Jacob Reese Thornton: My parents have a massive music collection. I went deep into that at a young age. My great grandmother owned a recording studio and small indie label in Nashville in the late ’60s, and my great aunt was a Nashville based musician in her day. So, I guess it’s running around in my DNA somewhere. My family are all extremely supportive.

Rick: There’s a whole world of music out there to draw from, as well as music from the past hundred years. African, Ukraine, Navajo…all kinds of music, and then there’s classic rock. Have you explored or considered where you might find inspiration, in places that are culturally different from your own roots?

Jacob Reese Thornton: I like accessible classic jazz, like Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue and John Coltrane’s stuff. I’m not a big fan of experimental jazz or fusion. Basically, I love rock and roll music. Big drums, guitars, and sweeping melodies. That’s what appeals to me. I’m into open tunings these days and discovering those possibilities.

I’m also a blues fan. I am always searching for a song that grabs me right away and makes the hair on my arms stand up. Noel Gallagher does that for me. He is my favorite songwriter right now, especially his recent High Flying Birds stuff. Lindsey Buckingham does that for me too with his guitar playing. He’s from another planet.

Rick: How did “Bombs Away” come about and how did you meet Bob Kulick and Bobby Ferrari – What have they been like to work with? And how’s the song doing – getting a good reception and good air play?

Jacob Reese Thornton: “Bombs Away” is the oldest song on the record, and one of the first tunes I ever wrote. Stylistically, it is kind of a nod to Joan Jett, who I also love. That’s the “in your face” cut on the record. It’s about being brave enough to suffer the consequences of sharing hard truths. Sometimes things need to be said.

I met Bob and Bobby through rock photographer Robert M. Knight. They were both so supportive of my writing and took off the kid gloves. It was hard work but I learned a ton from them. Even though I’m a lead player, one big take away from my time with Bob was rhythm guitar dynamics. He taught me a lot about that, and it changed the way I approach things. I will always be grateful for that experience.

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Rick: Let’s talk a little about gear. What’s your “go to” guitar at home and what are you using on stage? Amps? Effects? Cowbell?

Jacob Reese Thornton: Cowbell is obviously my go to instrument! [Laughs]. My main guitar for writing is a 2012 Martin EC28 acoustic, which I modified with a Fishman pickup. I do all my writing with that guitar, and use it live and in the studio. That guitar is rarely out of reach and will be with me for life. Almost lost it recently though. Someone broke into our car on the way to a Nashville gig. They stole an iPad, but overlooked the Martin, thank God!

In terms of electric, I have several main ones set up for different songs. Most of the Different Times LP was cut with an Ernie Ball Music Man Cutlass HSS. I am also a big fan of P90 pickups and have a few Les Paul, Jr.’s. I’ll reach for those when I want something that roars, and sometimes will use those for slide. I like the Telecasters for open tunings or a bit of twang.

As far as amps, it depends. I actually love the Kemper Profiling Amp. My live set requires a number of different tones, which I profiled through the Kemper. It makes it easy to quickly shift between them. If I am pushing air, I’ll use either a Marshall Jubilee reissue or an old Fender Deluxe blackface. As for pedals, I mostly get by with a Boss Blues Driver overdrive, a Boss delay and an MXR flanger. Acoustically, I am a big fan of the Fishman TonedEQ.

Rick: How did you wind up working with rock photographer and co-founder of the Brotherhood of the Guitar, Robert M. Knight?

Jacob Reese Thornton: Robert is the dude. He reached out to my Dad when I was 13, after he put up a video of me playing a Stevie Ray Vaughan instrumental. The clip got some attention from the social media rock magazines, which is how he found us. Robert is an amazing person and, of course, a legendary rock photographer. And the stories! He has had a front row seat to so much music history. He continues to help so many young musicians like me.

Robert recently introduced me to Slash and Steve Lukather, and it was obvious how much both of those guys like and respect him. He has opened doors for so many players. If you have not yet read it, get Robert’s latest photography book, Rock Gods, Vol. 2, which just came out. It’s incredible.

Rick: The music business is a lot about connections and Robert has those, but I found if you don’t have the talent, you need to up your game to become a “Brother”, or “Sister” of The Brotherhood. How did you prove yourself to Robert to get on board?

Jacob Reese Thornton: I guess you would have to ask him that. I keep trying to do what I do to the best of my ability. The level of talent in the Brotherhood roster is humbling, to say the least. I’m just grateful to be a part of it. It provides a way for younger more players around the world to find each other and even collaborate, which is really important.

Jason Reese Thornton – Image courtesy of Robert M. Knight.

Rick: Did he pull you out of oblivion or were you already working on some kind of heavy fueled ambition and strategy that was working for you?

Jacob Reese Thornton: Well, Robert has obviously opened some doors. He also introduced me to my amazing manager, Michelle Bakker, who is super connected herself. I’m super grateful for both of them, and for all of the mentors I was blessed to have an early age who helped and encouraged me. I knew early that playing guitar and writing songs inspired me more than anything else. I do this first because it’s what I love to do. As long as it comes across as honest and authentic – even if it’s not for them – then I’ve succeeded.

Rick: Your career seems to be moving at a solid fast pace, have you been surprised at anything about the industry that you’ve found very surprising or interesting?

Jacob Reese Thornton: Well, I think everyone knows there is a tidal wave of B.S. to navigate, even at a local level. I saw that early on. There are people with agendas who tell you what you want to hear, then twist a knife when you aren’t looking. So many people are struggling to be seen and heard in this business; to be recognized. I’m not always comfortable with the self-promotional stuff you have to do either.

But, musicians live and die by social media these days. The most disappointing thing is that the industry doesn’t seem to invest in developing new talent. And it abandoned guitar based music in favor of music made by computers. I never understood how a DJ could make 10,000 people scream with a laptop. I believe art must be made by human hands. Its okay if it is not perfect, because people aren’t perfect.

Rick: I suspect it’s easy to let one’s ego get ahead of you when others are telling you you’re phenomenal. Do you believe them straight away or are you cautious to keep things grounded, and real? Tough to do?

Jacob Reese Thornton: I definitely wouldn’t believe anything like that at all. It’s easy for me to stay grounded, because I know what my strengths and weaknesses are. I have a solid team, a great family and friends who keep me smart and push me to strive for the next level.

Rick: From what I can tell you’re getting some experience-based mentoring from top performers, producers, and a solid management team. Do they ever suggest you take a breather or go slow sometimes to let some things grow organically or are you wanting to be on a fast track?

Jacob Reese Thornton: I’ve been lucky that way and am thankful for them. I’m just doing what makes me happy and inspires me. We are not trying to chase anything too much. What’s meant to happen will happen in its own time. Of course, I would love nothing more than a life of creating music that people relate to. To make a decent living doing that would be such a blessing. That’s a dream that I share with a million other young musicians [Laughs]. It’s pretty crowded down here!

Rick: Okay, you’ve gotta tell us what it was like hanging with the legendary Buddy Guy, assuming you two had the chance to trade licks or just chat and chew a bit.

Jacob Reese Thornton: When I was 12, I went to a concert of his. During a quiet moment from the front row I asked if I could play. He stared at me for a second and said “Come on up here young man.” A crew member handed me a spare Strat. The next thing I knew I was on stage trading licks with him. It was a intimidating because I had only been playing for a few years at that point. But, it was an awesome moment I will never forget.

Buddy split pretty quickly after the show, but he chatted with us briefly and was very kind and encouraging. I wish I could do it again now!

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backinblack1967 · 4 years

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The Annual Feeling of Loss or You’re Never Alone (Seonghwa x Reader)

To be honest, this one is more fluff and (bad) humour after the initial angst. Feel free to leave a comment, ask me about anything or maybe even leave a request for a future scenario.

XXX Sarah

Seonghwa x Reader x platonic!ATEEZ

word count: 3,011

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네가 힘이 들고 지칠 때 When it's hard and you're tired

찾게 되는 그 곳, 나 그 곳이 될게 the place you're looking for, I'll become this place