#and most SUV owners

[sensitivehandsomeactionman]

A nice story about Jensen Ackles on Reddit. Text:

Poster: I “worked” with him/ for him for several years before I realized he was a celebrity/ on a major tv show.

I swear he is the most humble, genuine, and respectful man I’ve ever worked with. Probably why I never would have guessed he was famous.

Question: What did you do for him?

Poster: Full disclosure- this was from 2011 to 2012 (ish) so I dont remember the smaller details of our interactions, but anyway…

I worked at a high end “executive car service”. Basically wealthy business people, agents, sports players, etc. would book us for an SUV or town car to take them to meetings, the airport, whatever. We didn’t have limos or party busses or anything, it was strictly for professionals in a professional setting.

Anyway, I had been talking with Jensen usually twice a week for a good 6+ months. I’d book him trips to the airport in Canada and Malibu? I think that’s where the CA side was. All I really knew was he “traveled a lot for work” and his wife and new baby were at home.

I worked with major assholes, which was to be expected. Attorneys assistants especially. They would get fired if they didn’t use the right colored post-it. That kinda crap. So they understandably were always stressed the hell out, which would get taken out on me. Whatever. That’s all part of the game.

But anytime I answered the phone and it was Jensen, I knew at least for those few minutes my job would actually be enjoyable. He’d always ask about ME. How my day was, what the weather in SoCal was like since he’d be on his way there. Small talk, but always SO damn nice. He’d occasionally mention how he’d miss his family during the longer trips or tell me how it’d be a short stay that particular week so he’d be able to get back home to his baby. SO sweet.

One day months later the owner of “my” company called me to ask about the schedule. Mentioned Jensen was to be picked up the following day and she chuckled and asked, “you know who that is, right?” Uhhh, no? Then she told me he was on tv and was traveling to film every week. Based on how humble, soft spoken, and incredibly nice he was, I figured he was just starting out in the business or was kinda an unknown. That’s when my boss told me he was shooting this huge show, he was really famous, etc etc.

I never woulda guessed it in a million years. With celebrities, we always dealt with their agents. Jensen would always pick up the phone and call me himself. He just seemed like a completely normal, humble guy who didn’t let his fame change who he was.

I worked there for another several months and then moved onto a different company, but damn did I miss “working” with him. I always knew there’d be no drama when he called.

To this day I still haven’t seen him in anything (or even a single episode of Supernatural) but I’ll always hold a soft spot for him just based on the way he treated me. I was relentlessly harassed but he was always so, so kind.

[buckyalpine]

Missing

This is so dumb. Imma post it anyway. This is more of a pure ridiculousness and fluff fever dream with grumpy mob Bucky and sunshine reader, was in the mood for a lil sassy Bucky. 

A silly part 2 

“WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE”

Bucky’s men swallowed thickly, staring lowly at their feet while he glared at them, their silence angering him more. How could they let this happen. 

“So none of you. NONE OF YOU thought to keep an eye on her to make sure nothing happened to her?!”

Silence.

“I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU TO TAKE CARE OF HER WHILE I WAS GONE”

Sam and Steve shook their heads a the group, they should have known better than to be so careless, this wouldn’t have happened under their watch. 

“Fucking hell, I leave you idiots in charge for 5 days, 5 FUCKING DAYS, and that was some how too much?!” 

Bucky sucked in a breath, storming to his office, deciding he could tell them off later. Right now, he had bigger problems and the longer he waited, the harder it would be to get her back. His baby. His sweet heart. His angel. His everything. Steve and Sam followed, ready to search the entirety of New York all day and night if they had to. 

“Buck, what do you plan on doing, she could be anywhere, we can send the team to look-

“I’m not sending those idiots” Bucky rubbed his temples before pulling up his laptop. The scowl from his face dropped when he saw the little blinking red dot on the screen. “Thank fuck, her tracking device is still working” 

“You put a tracking device on her?” Sam gawked, before snorting and shaking his head. Of course the mobster did, how could he expect any less. 

“Well, now you see why I did”  Bucky shrugged, turning the laptop for the other two men to see. The coordinates weren’t near them but it didn’t matter. “I don’t get how the fuck she ended up there, but we have to go now, lets go” 

Bucky couldn’t help the tick of his jaw, the twitch of his fingers as they drove down the streets to get to her. He narrowed his eyes as they neared the location, he didn’t care what or who he’d have to face, he would get her back if it meant he had to burn the cutesy little house to the ground. 

The three men hopped out of the black SUV, guns and knives in check, taking long strides to the little porch of the house and straight to the door. Bucky wasted no time, his fist flying to the door. As soon as it opened, he stared down at you, his jaw clenched, chest heaving. 

“Where is she” 

5 Days ago 

You yelped feeling a warm soft ball of fur brush by your legs as you restocked some flowers your stall. You looked down to see a pair of bright blue eyes looking up at you, a sweet little white kitten slinking around your ankles. 

“Oh hello” You giggled, as the feline purred, rubbing herself and nuzzling into your leg, lifting her paws up so you could carry her. You smiled, cradling her in your arms; her perfect silky soft fur and gold jeweled collar indicated she was definitely not a stray. 

“Who do you belong to princess” You carefully looked at her collar, only to find her name on it without an address. “Hmm Alpine. What will I do with you sweetie?” You cooed while she nudged her face into your neck, her paws kneading into your skin. 

“I suppose you can stay with me and we can put some posters up for your owners to come find you?” 

“Meow”

You giggled, deciding to close the stall early for the afternoon, making your way down to the pet store to grab a few tins of food and other supplies for your new guest, unsure of how long she’d be with you (though you secretly hoped her owners wouldn’t come for her too soon). 

“Hmm little princess like you, how about this soft cat bed?” 

Halfway through your shopping trip, you forgot Alpine wasn’t actually yours, filling the cart with treats, toys, a bed and a number of other things you certainly didn’t need. You couldn't help it though, cooing at the little ball of fluff that contently curled up in your arms as you walked up and down the aisles. 

Of course.

She loved all her toys. And ate all her food. And was the most polite little house guest. Her daddy taught her proper manners. 

Except.

She never used the bed. 

No. 

In the middle of the night you felt 4 tiny paws climb over your side, nuzzling itself into the crook of your neck, her purring as loud as a motor boat. You sighed to yourself, snuggling Alpine in your arms, wondering how much time you’d get to spend with the fur baby. 

Present

You jumped, hearing loud banging at your door; dropping your rolling pin on the counter. You ran to the door, blinking up at the 3 huge men at your doorway with wide eyes, all of them staring down at you, the one in the middle looked like he was going to just walk right in. 

“Where is she”

“Who- 

 You blinked again in confusion before connecting the dots; the chain around Bucky’s wrist was very similar to the one Alpine wore as a collar. You bit back a giggle, looking at the large man in front of you. His rings, dark suit and the gun poking from his waist band was a stark contrast to the little ball of fluff you had housed for five days. 

“Oh! You’re here for Alpine?” 

You stepped aside, letting all three men into your home. Bucky paused for a moment after he actually look in his surroundings. Your home reminded him of a cute doll house; a small porch with a swing. The outside painted a soft yellow. Flowers were all around your garden. The inside of your house smelled like cinnamon and vanilla with pictures of family decorating the walls. It was adorable. 

“Come with me, I’m sure she’s still where I left her” 

You led the mob boss down the hall to the living room and Bucky’s heart was beating a little faster than usual. You were in a dotted dress, an apron still around your waist. Your hair was still a little tousled from your time in the kitchen; smearing's of flour streaks your nose and cheeks.

You looked like a doll.

The most adorable- No. Focus. 

Sam and Steve glanced at each other, smirking, watching Bucky give you heart eyes as he trailed behind you, the two whispering while you both disappeared into the living room. 

“Bet you 50, Alpine gets a spot at the altar” 

“The altar?”

“When they get married” Sam shrugged, while Steve snorted. 

“Alpine, look whose here” You smiled softly, while Bucky’s heart leapt seeing his little princess curled up in one of your sweaters, her paws batting at the strings of your hoodie. She perked up, scampering off the couch and into Bucky’s arms, purring and burying herself into his chest.

“Hey sweet girl” Bucky whispered, kissing the top of her head. “You went on an adventure, huh?” He scratched her behind the ears, giving her all the kisses she had missed out on for days. “Daddy missed you baby”

Your heart melted, looking at how Alpine nearly disappeared in Bucky’s large arms and the way he was so soft for his little fur baby. His eyes were glazed over, cooing and kissing her. It was also then that you realized he was incredibly handsome. Blue eyes like Alpine, tan skin, stubble covering his cheeks, pink lips. Beautiful.

“How did you know she was here?” You hesitantly took a step closer to stroke the top of her head. Bucky smiled at the way Alpine responded to you as she leaned into your touch, on cloud nine now that she had a possible mommy to play with-

“Oh” Bucky blushed again, realizing he had essentially just barged into your home without warning, not actually telling you who he was, or what he was even there for. “Her collar; it has a tracker” 

“I-I um- brought some stuff for her, you-you can take it with you if you like?” You quickly stepped away to grab the box of the things you had bought for her and Bucky’s heart leapt again at your sweetness. “She didn’t use her bed, only slept with me” 

“Yeah, her daddy would’ve probably done the same if you found him instead- ow” Sam whispered before he yelped when Steve flicked his hear, trying to contain his laugh. 

Bucky thanked you, not trusting himself to speak each time you looked at him with your sweet eyes. He wanted to give you something to taking such good care of his baby but of course you refused and he only fell for you more. Alpine mewed, looking back longingly as the SUVs pulled out of the driveway before lookin at her dad right in the eye. Why were you not coming with them?

*****

“Alp?”

Bucky set down the book he was reading, as Alpine slinked out of bed, making her way over to the  box of stuff you had bought for her. She dragged a sweater of yours that had fallen into the box, pulling it up onto the bed and kneading it before making her self comfortable, burying her face in, purring loudly. Bucky snorted, wrapping her up in the sweater and cradling her, clearly he wasn’t the only one that had spent all day thinking about you. 

“You like her huh?” Bucky looked down at the sassy thing in his arm; the slow blink she gave him was all he needed to know. “You want her to be your mommy?” Bucky blinked to himself, shaking his head. What was he doing, taking relationship advice from his cat. “I’m getting a head of myself”

“Yeah, starting with the fact that you’re talking to a cat. Now go ask her out” 

Bucky growled, rolling his eyes, hearing Sam’s muffled cackle through his closed door. Sam wasn’t wrong though. 

He had to ask you out. 

*****

“Make it 100. 100 bucks Alpine is at the wedding”

“Add another 5, she’ll officiate the wedding” 

“You think he’ll want Alp on our side with the groomsmen or with her”

“There won’t be any groomsmen left alive if you all don’t shut the fuck up” 

*Whispers*

“Alp will be with the groomsmen”

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

VW wouldn't locate kidnapped child because his mother didn't pay for find-my-car subscription

The masked car-thieves who stole a Volkswagen SUV in Lake County, IL didn’t know that there was a two-year-old child in the back seat — but that’s no excuse. A violent car-theft has the potential to hurt or kill people, after all.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/28/kinderwagen/#worst-timeline

Likewise, the VW execs who decided to nonconsensually track the location of every driver and sell that data to shady brokers — but to deny car owners access to that data unless they paid for a “find my car” subscription — didn’t foresee that their cheap, bumbling subcontractors would refuse the local sheriff’s pleas to locate the car with the kidnapped toddler.

And yet, here we are. Like most (all?) major car makers, Volkswagen has filled its vehicles with surveillance gear, and has a hot side-hustle as a funnel for the data-brokerage industry.

After the masked man jumped out of a stolen BMW and leapt into the VW SUV to steal it, the child’s mother — who had been occupied bringing her other child inside her home — tried to save her two year old, who was still in the back seat. The thief “battered” her and drove off. She called 911.

The local sheriff called Volkswagen and begged them to track the car. VW refused, citing the fact that the mother had not paid for the $150 find-my-car subscription after the free trial period expired. Eventually, VW relented and called back with the location data — but not until after the stolen car had been found and the child had been retrieved.

Now that this idiotic story is in the news, VW is appropriately contrite. An anonymous company spokesman blamed the incident on “a serious breach” of company policy and threw their subcontractor under the (micro)bus, blaming it on them.

This is truly the worst of all worlds: Volkswagen is a company that has internal capacity to build innovative IT systems. Once upon a time, they had the in-house tech talent to build the “cheat device” behind Dieselgate, the means by which they turned millions of diesel vehicles into rolling gas-chambers, emitting lethal quantities of NOX.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volkswagen_emissions_scandal

But on the other hand, VW doesn’t have the internal capacity to operate Car-Net, it’s unimaginatively-named, $150/year location surveillance system. That gets subbed out to a contractor who can’t be relied on to locate a literal kidnapped child.

The IT adventures that car companies get up to give farce a bad name. Ferraris have “anti-tampering” kill-switches that immobilize cars if they suspect a third-party mechanic is working on them. When one of these tripped during a child-seat installation in an underground parking garage, the $500k car locked its transmission and refused to unlock it — and the car was so far underground that its cellular modem couldn’t receive the unlock code, permanently stranding it:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/15/expect-the-unexpected/#drm

BMW, meanwhile, is eagerly building out “innovations” like subscription steering-wheel heaters:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/02/big-river/#beemers

Big Car has loaded our rides up with so much surveillance gear that they were able to run scare ads opposing Massachusetts’s Right to Repair ballot initiative, warning Bay Staters that if third parties could access the data in their cars, it would lead to their literal murders:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

In short: the automotive sector has filled our cars with surveillance gear, but that data is only reliably available to commercial data-brokers and hackers who breach Big Cars’ massive data repositories. Big Car has the IT capacity to fill our cars with cheat devices — but not the capacity to operate an efficient surveillance system to use in real emergencies. Big Car says that giving you control over your car will result in your murder — but when a child’s life is on the line, they can’t give you access to your own car’s location.

This Thu (Mar 2) I’ll be in Brussels for Antitrust, Regulation and the Political Economy, along with a who’s-who of European and US trustbusters. It’s livestreamed, and both in-person and virtual attendance are free. On Fri (Mar 3), I’ll be in Graz for the Elevate Festival.

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

 — 

Upsilon Andromedae (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/upsand/212946929/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[Image ID: A blue vintage VW beetle speeds down a highway; a crying baby is pressed against the back driver's-side window. In the sky overhead is the red glaring eye of HAL 9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey, emblazoned with the VW logo. The eye is projecting a beam of red light that has enveloped the car.]

[seat-safety-switch]

Once in awhile, you can get one over on The Man. Finally, after all these years of toiling under his rule, doing his dirty work, begging for his praise, he has well and truly fucked up. And, it turns out, your entire life has been building up to the moment that you can milk him for all he's worth.

Have you ever seen a Dodge Caliber? They're getting sort of uncommon now, but when they were new, they were pretty hateful cars. Cheap, buzzy, surprisingly uneconomical, steering that felt like telling a funeral home operator how to sign a birthday card over the phone by long distance. And they fell apart all the time. Most cars get repaired, but these things got gleefully shovelled into the junkyard at the first chance the owners got.

Not all of them, though. This is a story about one very special Dodge Caliber. You see, my aunt needed a car. And my aunt is very nervous about owning a car. The skills of shitbox repair never made it into her genes, you see, possibly because she is not related to me by blood. So, in order to get that car, she went to the Dodge dealership, and she asked them: can you do a lifetime warranty, unlimited mileage, no questions asked, cover everything? And they said: for you, ma'am, we absolutely can charge you an obscene, eye-watering amount of money.

Once I found out about this, I was mad. And then I figured it out. You see, what my aunt did have was being insanely cheap. That's why she was a part of my degenerate family. She still is, even though my Uncle Larry exploded that one night at Arecibo. Unlimited mileage. There has never been a sweeter phrase uttered in the English language.

Now, whenever anyone we know needs to go for a long trip, we tell them: take the Caliber. Rack those miles up. Punish those stupid motherfuckers for writing such a terrible, open-ended contract. My aunt runs a taxi service consisting entirely of this vehicle, a fleet of drivers constantly rotating in and out, the thing rolling virtually 24/7. I love driving this car, because every single mile that ticks up on the odometer is more salty tears from the low-wattage pig who thought he was a big-time wheeler and dealer down at Old Time Country Dodge.

To their credit, they figured out the enormous error that they had made fairly quickly. When Aunt Hilda rolled in the thing, smoking and wheezing, for its sixth transmission replacement at eight-hundred-and-fifty-thousand kilometers, they offered to buy it from her and give her a brand new luxury SUV, just for being such a great customer. She laughed, and told them to get started overhauling the Caliber, and don't forget to take a look at the squeaking sound it started making in the back.

When things got real bad during the recession, they tried to go bankrupt, thinking that might get them out from having to maintain this economy car until the sun burns out. Ha! Death won't save you, my friend. My attorney Max picked that one up pro bono, despite hating warranty law, just for the pleasure of watching their attorney read the purchase contract. Her eyes got so big that they stuck that way. The paramedics had to use the jaws of life on her eyelids so she could blink again.

If you see me in the Caliber, make sure to honk. I probably won't stop to say hi, because we gotta keep this odometer rollin'. Rest assured, however, that I will honk back, maybe ten or fifteen times. Really get my money's worth out of that horn.

[cravetive]

𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 | ℂℍ. 𝟚

| 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐚𝐮: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬,𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭,𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

| 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

| 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9K

| 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, foul language ( 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬), 𝐬𝐞𝐱 ( 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬).

| 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 does 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲.

𝐂𝐡.𝟏

-

“You can drop me off here” you instruct the driver whose eyes scan you through the rear-view mirror. He stares blankly for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Are you sure Ma’am?” he questions, which makes you roll your eyes to the side and glare. As if you didn’t know any better, as if you were a child.

 The brief meeting you were to attend was a few blocks away, but you could not allow your husband’s employees to know where you were headed or who you were about to meet. You needed to be as discreet as possible.

You huffed and stepped out of the SUV as soon as it came to a stop, your red bottom heels clicking against the hard pavement.

“Pick me up in an hour” you ordered before slamming the door shut.

You began walking away into the plaza that by now was crowded with shoppers, which was exactly what you needed to escape from the driver’s view. you had learned long ago that besides the services they provided for you, they would also surveillance your every move as if you were some sort of captive. It had been more than a few times you had caught the personnel listening in to your conversations and following behind you like ghosts.

The driver, the housekeeper, your masseuse, even your assistant Myung.

You wondered if it was something your husband had ordered them to do. not trusting your intentions or perhaps these employees thought it was something that would bring them some kind of recognition from Jungkook.

Regardless of the reason, it made you that much more irritated with the situation you were in.

You swiftly turned corners, losing sight of the driver who by now entered the plaza on foot just as you had expected. you walked as fast as your heels allowed cursing at yourself for even wearing this outfit, the black skirt you wore rising just a bit more each time you extended your legs.

The small café was not too far from where you were, the exterior appearing to have been stuck in time. The wooden door and chipped window panels along with the fading paint on its walls made the perfect location for such meetings. The owners, an old couple, had noticed your frequent visits and had eventually taken a liking to you. treating you as one of their own.

You had decided the small business would be your most secure location as the meetings became riskier with time.

You briskly stepped into the café, closing the door behind you carefully before flipping the sign that hung there from ‘open’ to ‘closed’.

The noise caused by your abrupt arrival quickly caught the attention of the older woman standing behind the counter, her small lips pulling into a wide bright smile that followed up to her eyes. she extended her wrinkly hands in the air as if she was reaching for a hug.

“Ah Y/N what a sight” Her raspy and shaky voice spoke.

You took in her rather tired appearance. The harsh aging lines under her eyes becoming more apparent with time, the grey streaks in her hair multiplying as well. You smiled sweetly “Hello auntie, how have you been.” You stepped towards her, reaching out your arms to give her a warm embrace. taking in her comforting scent of coffee and cinnamon. you pulled away only after a moment, her soft hands patting you gently on the back.  “It has been going great, thanks to you we have new customers every day” she cheered.

you laid your hand on your chest before laughing “Oh don’t be silly, you guys have the best coffee in the city, it’s what keeps them coming” you reassured her.

“But don’t forget to rest, auntie” you added, taking note of her troubled health.

She sighed.

“don’t you worry about a thing, come now. he’s been waiting for about an hour” She gestured you over and you followed behind as she walked to the back of the café, leading you into a small room you had grown very familiar with.

Once you stepped inside you recognized the small table that stood in the middle of the room, a few posters of promotional coffee beans and pastries decorated the walls along with an old calendar from two years ago, much like the outside the paint was chipping here too. You caught sight of the man sitting on the floor, his hands holding onto a steaming mug as his eyes fixated on the wall in front of him.

The contrast of his innocent state against his towering build gives rise to a smile on your face.

“I’ll be around in case you need anything” she spoke before sliding the door shut behind you.

The man now alerted by your presence, sat up subconsciously setting the mug onto the small wooden table and providing you his full attention. He cleared his throat before offering you a small smile.

“Y/N” he called out to you informally, his eyes gleaming as he took you in.

“Hey Jin” you responded before taking your place in the empty space in front of him. You kneeled to his level, taking off the long black coat you wore.

“I’m glad you could find time to come.” He sighed, relief flooding through him once he verified you had managed to come without a scratch.

“Was it hard getting here?” he half whispered, concern traveling to his eyes as he looked at you.

You shook your head and took a deep breath.

“Thankfully the plaza was crowded, and I managed to lose the driver” you responded simply making note not to say anything to worry him further. even if it drove you mad that you had to jump through so many hurdles for just a bit of privacy.

“I hate you have to risk yourself this much just to come spend time with me” you could hear the frustration in his voice as he spoke. you shrugged and sighed “it is what it is, Jin” you expressed as you attempted to ease his mind “just comes with the lifestyle.”

“Yeah, a lifestyle you didn’t even choose” he grumbled.

Jin had been hired as a tutor by your family during your schoolgirl days, it was safe to say money could’ve bought you anything except the understanding of math. He would come over every 2 days and tutor you which would eventually cause the both of you to bond. It was hard to meet people you genuinely liked and could feel comfortable around, but it was never a struggle with Jin. You knew from the ease he often brought you that you were destined to be close friends.

In the end he graduated college and became a lawyer for a big firm in Seoul, but you never lost contact. always finding ways to meet even in secrecy. Besides coordinating your entire life, the Jeon family was very particular regarding who you could or could not be seen with. They made keeping their reputation a priority. This meant that a married woman like you with your status could not just up and go as you pleased, much less be seen with an unmarried man alone.

You sighed deeply, watching as Jin poured you a cup of tea. You contemplated what to say but Jin could already tell you were biting down on your words as you often did when you were nervous.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace” he joked, easing you slightly.

“I- uhm” you struggled on your words “I’ve contemplated on how to say this.”

He furrowed his brows, taking note of how quickly the mood had shifted.

“I am not a person that asks for many favors” you began, your nerves getting the best of you as you spilled some tea from the cup you now held. You quickly looked up, biting down on your bottom lip. “But at this very moment I really need one from you” you confided, forcing the words through your teeth.

He blinked taking in your words. It is true you rarely ever did ask for a hand; you were determined and stubborn and those 2 qualities prevented you from ever admitting you needed assistance and Jin of all people was very much aware of that.

“Well, what is it Y/N, your kind of scaring me” he said, his hand reaching for yours across the small table. He was not used to holding such serious conversations with you. your previous encounters had always been filled with cheesy jokes and loud laughter as Jin always felt it was a relief you needed amongst the turmoil in your life.

“Uhm, I didn’t want you to get involved in this mess, but I can’t just sit around and let this happen to me” you explained, your eyes falling on your hands linked together on the table.

You pondered for a moment, guilt rising within you for even thinking you would have to involve him in this.

“Hey, Y/n” he searched for your eyes, taking in the uneasiness in them. “You can come to me about anything, you know you can trust me” he emphasized.

And You knew you could, but it wasn’t about that. The battle between involving him in this chaos or leaving him to the sidelines had kept you on edge for some time now. The fact that you even had to decide something like this ate you up inside.

“I just want you to know that I’ve given this request a lot of thought” you advised, almost as if you were warning him. You needed him to understand that it was hard on you to rely on him in this way. By far, the most difficult decision you’ve had to make.

“Y/n, if you want my mom’s hotteok recipe I can email it to you” Jin bantered, gifting you his notorious giggle which you adored so much.

“I need you to investigate the Jeon family” you blurted.

His body stiffened at the request; his stare faltering for just a moment as he digested the words you had just spoken.

“Uh that is-” he hesitated, the glimmer that had been in his eyes only a second ago beginning to disappear.

“I know Jin, I know that is not an easy ask” you interrupted “but there’s not a lot of people I can trust, and I need a way out” you sighed, gripping his hand tighter in yours. “I need to find a way” pleads fell from your mouth and you felt the shame rise within you.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t really need it” you concluded.

His eyes fell on you again, worry written all over his expression. Just as much as you considered him a brother, he considered you a sister and it affected him all the same to see you this conflicted. The carefree Y/n he once knew had shriveled to nothing, in its place now sat desperation.

“What do you want to find out?” he asked, “I mean if this will help you then I’ll do it, but I need to know what you are looking for.”

“Jin, I know everything” you sighed, running your hands through your loose hair. “What I need is paper trail, what I need is proof, signatures, and names” Your voice echoed in the silence that remained after those words.

It was just then that he noticed the severity of the situation, what he thought was a young woman desperate to get out of an arranged marriage had turned out to be far more dire and it made his stomach turn.

He blinked quickly attempting to gather his thoughts, trying to find the right questions to ask but he was left empty, he had been so naïve. of course, he could see it now. all those times you avoided the questions regarding the status of your marriage, the tears you cried in his chest after your wedding reception. Nothing had ever clicked until now that is.

What urged a man like your father to marry off his only daughter at the first offer? It was always a question that loomed on his mind, and it would appear you were ready to answer that for him today.

He leaned in closer, his hands now gripping yours tightly too.

“What is going on, Y/N” his voice had lowered drastically, almost as if he was attempting not to yell.

The time ticked by slowly as you shared every detail, attempting not to leave anything out. You needed him to know the entire story, you needed him to understand the severity of the situation and why you had called on him so urgently. You observed his reaction closely, his furious glare burning into you with each piece of information you carefully provided. Relief soon settles on your shoulders as the weight of the secrets you had carried for an entire year lift from them.

“And I need your help to bring them down” you voiced sternly.

your mouth felt dry as you anticipated his response. You were not sure if this plan would be the one to save you and the reputation of your family, but it would be foolish not to try. You would need all the help you could get, and Jin had been your very first option. If he declined, you couldn’t blame him. The Jeon’s were a powerful family and not one people were usually keen to cross. If you couldn’t count on Jin, you would just find another route.  

Even if that meant begging.

He nodded slowly, retracting his touch from your hands and reaching for his phone. You watched as he typed a short message and then he looked back at you.

“I should have something for you by the end of the week” he reassured “but Y/n you must understand that this is a dangerous task and just as I need to be careful you need to do the same.”

You nodded slowly.

“It is different for you and me- “he paused, struggling with the thoughts that took over him. “I know how these kinds of people work. I’ve been around them; I’ve defended them in court” he avoided your eyes as he spoke “I know what they are capable of.”

he lowered his gaze, you could tell memories were coming to him, perhaps things that he had been unable to forget.

“I can’t protect you while you sleep with the enemy.”

You knew this, it had been a warning you had given to yourself the moment you had set this plan in motion, once in the battlefield no one could protect you. You lived in their turf and if you had influence, the Jeon family had even more. You looked down at your hands nodding in understanding once more.

“I need your help but not at the expense of your life” you clarified “if you find yourself in hot waters, I need you to stop.”

“Y/n” he began to protest, his words halting at the sound of your ringing phone in the small room.

You reached it for it quickly, taking notice of the time as the screen lit up and of the caller who had interrupted the conversation.

‘Myung’

You reluctantly pressed the green button and held the phone to your ear as you and Jin shared a cautious glance.

“Ma’am, Mr. Jeon is here at the office looking for you” she almost yelped “he is very upset” Myung squeaked into the line making you grimace in annoyance.

“Something about your driver not being able to find you” she ranted.

You stood up, grabbing your purse and coat quickly. You could already feel anger racing to your chest. Of course, your driver would report back to his beloved boss like a lap dog. Jungkook rarely ever felt the urge to look for you and He sure as hell was not one to check up on you. Therefore, that could only mean he needed something.

You ended the call before shooting Jin an apologetic smile and slipping out of the room before he could speak again but the worried expression that remained on his face confirmed what he had planned to say next.  

You had to remain calm, if this plan was to work at all you had to act as gullible as you had been the first day you married into the family. You knew even the slightest reaction would be questioned and reported back to Jungkook. You were mentally prepared as you stepped out of the café and back into the street. You allowed yourself a few moments for the irritation you felt to subside and tried to shake away the tension of the conversation you had just had. You had to appear as at ease as possible. Just another shopping trip, nothing here to see.

You soon found your way into the plaza. stopping at the first store you found, buying the first item you could get your hands on. The plaza had remained crowded, which made for the perfect excuse for your delay. You shoved past the crowd and soon made your way back to the entrance, where you found your disgruntled driver typing away at his phone.

“Hey, I thought I told you to wait in the car” you called after him.

He snapped his neck in your direction, quickly tucking the phone in his pocket. He bowed quickly as you approached him. You took notice of his anxiousness and how his eyes shifted as he watched you. was he even trying to be discreet? You questioned.

“I’m sorry ma’am, I only came out once I had seen an hour had passed” he lied.

“Oh, I must have lost track of time, there were just so many options at the store today” you answered, imitating him.

-

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐘/𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟎 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬.

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 :(

𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨�� 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞! 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤/𝐝𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @thisartemisnevermisses,@jamlessstars,@cookysstuff,@gyeomibearr,@multiasf,@ane102,@lydinews,@vminkookgf,@chl0buggy

[talaok]

At the Met | pt. 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: This is part two of "At the Met", where after the fight, you go back to your hotel room and find Pedro anxiously waiting for you.

warnings: angst, jealousy (dw there's a happy ending)

The sky had darkened, gloomy clouds filled the canvas as quick drops of rain began hitting the pavement.

Your ride was waiting for you in the black SUV, but you stopped a moment to inhale the crispness of the air, your body relishing the feeling of the first real breath you'd taken in hours.

It was late, and as people were getting ready for the afterparties, you just wanted to go home, well not home per se, just anywhere with a bed and a shower, ergo, your hotel room.

You walked to the car and got in, but as the driver didn't drive off, you felt a pit in your stomach.

"He's gone already, we can go," you said, and with a nod, he did as told.

The muffled stains of the streetlight shined through the raindrops on the glass as the streets all merged into one.

You relieved the whole night in your head, wondering how it could all have gone so wrong.

This was supposed to be a great day, you should have laughed and joked and had a great time, but here you were instead, alone in the dim backseat, feeling like you were about to cry.

Pedro should have been here with you, making you smile like only he could, he should have been here to talk about the evening and all the craziness you'd just endured, but he wasn't.

In fact, you didn't know exactly where he was. After the fight he granted your wish, leaving you alone, and when you'd returned to the table, he wasn't there, or anywhere else.

You had never fought like that, every disagreement you had ever had always ended with you in his arms and all worries out the window, but for some reason today had been diffrent.

Seeing him like that pained you, you could still see the hurt in his eyes, the way he had looked at you once you shrugged him off... it was all still there, but you were mad, and most importantly, right.

That wasn't the first time he showed his jealous side, it had arisen before, like when that guy at the bar was getting a bit too friendly or when one of your co-stars had looked at you for a bit too long and according to him "like he was undressing you with his eyes", but this time it ticked something. You were with him because you wanted to, he was supposed to trust you, not treat you like a dog ready to turn their back on their owners for anyone with a treat.

He was supposed to trust you like you trusted him. Yes of course you too got jealous at all the women and men throwing themselves at him, but you didn't react like him, you would talk and remind him in a few ways he very much loved that he was yours, and you were his.

So tonight you'd had it, you were supposed to have fun, not be questioned by your own boyfriend about what some guy had told you.

You let out a frustrated sigh, and as you opened your eyes back up again, the car stopped. The hotel's lights shined bright, much too bright for how you were feeling.

You looked at the driver, half considering asking him to drive you somewhere else, anywhere else, but as he locked eyes with you in the rearview mirror you changed your mind.

"Everything ok Miss?"

you forced a smile

"No Stephan, not really"

"anything I can do to help?"

Your smile got more genuine " I don't think so, but thank you" you said, as you got off the car 

"goodnight Miss," he said, lowering his window

"goodnight Stephan and I've told you, you can call me y/n"

He didn't respond if not with a slight nod you knew meant he was never gonna listen to you, before driving away.

The lobby was cold, the ac clearly blaring even though it was only May, and you hugged your jacket closer to your body as the receptionist greeted you, while making your way to the elevator.

Your heels sounded on the tilted floor as you walked down the corridor.

An overwhelming feeling of dread took over your body once you stopped in front of your room.

You just wanted everything like it was just a few hours before, you wanted to open the door and fall into his arms, but you needed to talk, seriously talk once and for all.

Your legs felt wobbly as you opened the door, and it all became much worse once you took in the man in front of you.

Pedro was sitting on one of the stools of the kitchen counter, his body turned towards the door, hence, now you.

You were both silent as you closed the door behind you, and you noticed how he hadn't changed, you had no idea how long he'd been here, but he surely had time to do it.

"Pedro-"

"I'm sorry" he spoke, interrupting whatever you wanted to say "Y/n I'm sorry," he said, standing up to walk closer to you until he was right in front of you "I'm really fucking sorry" The pain in his eyes was still there "this wasn't how this night was supposed to go, I wanted you to have fun and meet people and feel great but I ruined all of it... I was an asshole, I was- unforgivable- I should have never talked to you like that or said any of the things I said, I didn't mean any of it, sweetheart, I just- saw that guy and my vision went red and I'm sorry, I don't know how to explain how incredibly fucking sorry I am"

You had to take a breath, you had just gotten in after all.

 "I know you are" you conceded, because it was true, you could see it clear as day, but that still didn't solve the fact he hadn't said what you wanted him to say "But you always are"

"Bab-"

"no, let me finish" You stopped him, and he immediately complied

"That's not the problem Pedro, the problem is that you don't trust me, the problem is that you think that any guy can steal me from you, and that's incredibly frustrating and infuriating because I've told you thousands of times that I love you, not Nathan not Joe but you, only you" you explained as calmly as you could as your nerves felt about to explode "And if that isn't enough, if you still don't trust me then I can't do it, because it's awful Pedro, it's awful having to be interrogated by you any time a guy comes a tiny bit close to me, that's not how relationships work, we're supposed to trust one another and if we see something we don't like we talk, like adults."

He blinked, as he processed all you had said, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

"you're right" he agreed "You're right sweetheart and I'm sorry I made you feel that way, that's awful, but I promise, and I mean it, I swear on whatever you want that I will work on that, I'll try as hard as I can to not let this happen again, because I trust you, I'd trust you with my life for god's sake, and I love you, more than I could ever explain" he sighed "just please y/n, I'm begging you give me a chance, and I promise I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you"

You finally felt like you could breathe again.

"you'll try?"

"I will sweetheart I swear, starting from now I will never treat you or question you like that ever again"

You stared back into his big brown eyes.

"promise?"

"Promise," he swore without missing a beat, and that's all you needed to hear before you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling in his warm chest.

He hugged you back tightly, his chin on the top of your head "I'm really sorry sweetheart" he murmured, "I ruined everything"

You looked up at him "Give me a kiss" you told him, and how could he say no when that was all he had wanted to do for the past three and a half hours? 

His lips were on yours in an instant, gentle and slow, begging for forgiveness, and you melted right into him, in his scent and touch, feeling light as a feather.

You sighed happily, leaning away.

"I love you y/n" he promised "I love you more than life, more than anything in this entire universe, I-I love you"

You smiled, his words warming your heart "I love you too, baby" you vowed "Now come here again, I missed you"

And just like that, he did. 

--- --- The day after --- ---

["Y/n Y/l/n and Pedro Pascal were photographed leaving their hotel room looking as in love as one can be! Seems like whatever happened at the Met is long forgotten"

"I bet people are mad they made us believe we could have a chance with them again"

"I bet they are, but fans have never been more relieved"]

taglist: @spacelatinos4life @sloanexx

[jjungkookislife]

Sunday, Monday...

pairing: bartender!jungkook x f. reader

genre: fwb, f2l, coworkers au, smut [18+]

summary: what's that saying? don't fuck your coworker... unless he's Jeon Jungkook.

wc: 3.8k

warnings: alcohol use/mentions, mention of smoking (cigarettes), (exclusive) friends with benefits, sex at their workplace parking lot, reader calls jungkook a brat a few times, pet names (babe, baby, good girl), fingering (f. receiving), hair pulling, marking/biting, car sex, unprotected sex, spanking, a little degradation, creampie, morning sex, implied sex in public

a/n: I have been in a writing funk as of late, so i hope you enjoy this. i adore them both so much <3

date: July 29, 2023

Exhaustion lingered in your body as you pulled into the parking lot of your job, choosing the darkest corner with the burnt-out lightbulb hidden just out of view of the camera. You checked your appearance one last time as headlights nearly blinded you from the entrance of the lot.

You were early; the reason pulling up next to you as they parked next to your car. You shut yours off, taking your phone that no longer buzzed incessantly like it had just an hour before.

“Hey,” you grumbled as you climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door harder than necessary, ignoring the wince of your coworker and your new alarm clock, apparently. What a bastard! He knew you liked your pre-work nap, and yet he texted you over and over just to make sure you’d be coming tonight. As if you’d miss a night to make slamming tips with him at your side. Besides, your pre-work fuck was becoming a routine, a little energy boost to get you through the night when your Red Bull concoctions didn’t.

“That happy to see me, huh?” Jungkook grins anyway, used to your sour mood when he bombarded your phone with texts. Some border on sexual, some not.

[Kook from work] 6:55 pm

What are you wearing?

[Kook from work] 6:58 pm

So we can match not…well, I wanna know what I’m taking off too 🥴

[Kook from work] 7:08 pm

Do you want to do body shots off each other like last week? 🤤🤤🤤

[Kook from work] 7:10 pm

Replyyyyyyyyyyyyy 🥲

[Kook from work] 7:10 pm

I’m lonely 😞 

[Kook from work] 7:12 pm

Are you still sleeping?

[Kook from work] 7:21 pm

Wake upppppp

[Kook from work] 7:21 pm

WAKE UP 😭

[Kook from work] 7:22 pm

WAKE UP

[Kook from work] 7:22 pm

WAKE UPP

[Kook from work] 7:22 pm

WAKE UPPP

[Kook from work] 7:23 pm

WAKE UPPPP

[Kook from work] 7:23 pm

WAKE UPPPPP

[Kook from work] 7:24 pm

WAKE UPPPPPP

[You] 7:25 pm I’m up! I’m up! You annoying little brat

[Kook from work] 

Hi 😚

Jungkook doesn’t wait for a response as you set your phone in one of the cup holders, accidentally hitting the button to light up your screen. Jungkook pouts when he sees his name hasn’t changed on your phone.

“Still just ‘Kook from work’?” 

“Yup,” you sneer.

“Not even a ‘Jungkook from work who blows my back out’ or anything?” He questions with a smirk when you roll your eyes and playfully shove him.

“You’re so annoying,” you huff, leaning back in the seat to stare upwards. Jungkook's soft laughter fills the tinted SUV for a moment.  

When you first started working at the nightclub, you were inexperienced and overeager. The tips were good and the clientele was mostly regulars who enjoyed not having to pay an entrance fee. Your boss, the owner, Min Yoongi, took shit from no one and took your side for every bad customer interaction. He was sweet, friendly, and loved his whiskey neat. 

You got along well with the bouncers, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jimin, who took no shit from anybody and of course one of your closest friends, Hoseok, worked most nights at your side, either behind the bar or training the new barback, Taehyung. Jungkook had joined the team a few months ago, another friend of Hoseok and Yoongi’s. He was outgoing, overeager, and learned his shit pretty quickly. You requested being put on his shifts, his nights drawing large crowds and tips your way. Hoseok drew in huge crowds as well, until the clientele realized flirting with Yoongi’s husband was a bad idea. Yoongi would raise a brow, and the customers would falter, order an extra shot to down to get over the shock of his stare, and go on their way.

Hoseok both loved and hated it. Now, he works whenever he feels like it, along with a few other bartenders that were hired part-time to fill the gaps. 

“I think ‘Jungkook with the huge cock’ would also work wonders for my self-esteem,” Jungkook jokes, cackling when you reach out to shove his shoulder. After making contact, he laces his fingers with yours, pulling you closer to him. 

Thoughts whirl around in your head, most of them being ‘just friends’, but you both know at this point that’s another bullshit lie. You spent so much time ignoring your feelings for him but for now, hooking up before work seems to work for the two of you. Despite all your coworkers/friends insinuating otherwise. You thought you were being secretive hiding out in the darkest spot on the lot each night before your shift, but Yoongi was well aware of what went on in the shadows.

Unfortunately for him, he’d shown up to work early one day, needing a smoke before Hoseok turned up and scolded him. He’d been trying to quit again but working long nights during Spring Break was getting to him. He’d regretted the moment he spotted Jungkook’s SUV rocking beside your car. 

“You’re insufferable,” you groan when you slide closer to him. Jungkook lets his seat slide back, allowing you more room but you know you’ll end up lying on the folded back seats with the array of fluffy, fuzzy blankets and pillows set up for the occasion.

“You adore me,” he whispers in response, his hand gently caressing your cheek. Your eyes meet his, your body thrumming with excitement.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate in kissing you, his lips soft against yours until you’re resting your hands on his shoulder. Slowly, you climb into his lap, moaning his name in between kisses as his hands grip your hips. His large hands slide under your skirt, feeling the softness of your skin. He squeezes your ass firmly, groaning when you grind down against him. He’s got on a pair of sweatpants and a loose tee, waiting to turn into a demon once he hits the locker room on the upstairs floor, restricted to patrons but available for staff to shower and change after a shift.

Normally, you’d do the same but you needed to give Jungkook easy access, forgoing your undergarments and slipping on a shirt and skirt. You’d probably share a shower, and get ready while the club opened and Jungkook entertained whilst you did your hair and makeup. 

“I fucking love your ass, baby,” Jungkook groans as he squeezes once again. You giggle, kissing your way down his jaw to his neck. You're mindful of leaving marks on his beautiful skin, knowing they’d stop the tips, and that’s the last thing you want on a Sunday night. The crowd will be reduced exponentially, but his regulars always like to stop by, anyway

Your hands run over his chest, tugging his shirt from under you and slipping it over his head to discard on the passenger seat.

Jungkook's body always amazes you. You wonder if he’d let you oil him up someday and just feel every little bit of it. 

“Baby?” Jungkook whines when you stop kissing him, your fingertips brushing over his pebbled brown nipples. 

“Got distracted,” you answer honestly.

Jungkook chuckles, pecking you on the lips. 

“Don’t you always when my shirt comes off?” He giggles and you shush him, kissing him again as your hips roll against his. You know you have very little time. The start of your shift lingers over both your heads and your alarm is set for fifteen minutes before the start of your shift to give Jungkook time to get ready before you and have someone behind the bar to keep Yoongi’s wrath at bay.

Besides, you’d been waiting for this all day; already wet and ready whenever he was. 

Jungkook must note the change of urgency in your movements because his hands grip you harder, every touch is more intentional and each of your moans shoots straight to his cock. He was already at half-mast when he pulled into the parking lot and now, with your warm body on top of his, he didn’t need much to get him hard.

Your kisses were an aphrodisiac, your touch like fire. Jungkook’s head spins when you tongue the tattoo behind his ear, teeth gently nipping at his earlobe as his fingers tease between your thighs, drawn to the warmth in between.

“Please,” you beg, biting your lip as he teases you with his fingertips, cursing when he slips one finger inside you. 

“Jungkook,” you whine, head falling onto his shoulder. His breath flutters your hair as he chuckles, set on teasing you but another whine from you and a reminder of the time gets him going. He hopes tomorrow when you’re both off work, he can take his time with you but for now, he’ll settle for this.

With two fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit, he uses his free hand to tug at your shirt. Your nipples poke against the fabric and his mouth waters at the sight. He aches to wrap his lips around them and make you melt for him before he fucks you silly. Perhaps he should go easy on you, but you’re gripping his hair tightly, nearly riding his fingers and making a mess of his sweatpants. 

Jungkook resists the urge to just rip your shirt down the middle. The fabric would tear so easily from a few tugs, but your wrath after would be more than he could handle. Besides, you look really cute in your shirt.

With his inaction, you take charge and remove your shirt, tossing it to join his shirt in the empty seat.

Jungkook lifts your skirt to bunch at your hips as you greedily palm at his hard cock, throbbing in his gray sweatpants.

“Give it to me,” you groan when his lips kiss down your neck, his teeth sinking into the skin to get you to curse and moan his name. You’re lost in your lust, grinding against him and tugging at his pants until his cock slaps against his abs. He smirks at your eagerness, stroking himself as you beg him to fuck you. He listens to your whines and begs, knowing you’ll take action into your own hands and just sink yourself on him.

Just as expected, you take his cock in your hands, wishing you could suck him off, but time is ticking and you’re sure Yoongi had pulled in while you were taking your top off. It was only a matter of time before he came over to interrupt or your alarm went off. Either way, you had to get going.

“I hate rushing,” Jungkook huffs as you line his cock against your entrance, teasing him by rubbing the head against your wet cunt. Jungkook's head falls back into the seat, body nearly arching off completely when you do it again and again until you’re cursing and biting your lip as his dick slides inside you.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, pressing your lips to his to silence yourself as you take all of him. The stretch is delicious but still gives you pause. “So big.”

Jungkook feels pride in his chest, hiding the blush on his cheeks by kissing your neck and shoulder. His hands cup your breasts, fingers rolling your nipples as you set a slow pace. He wishes he had taken your skirt off but it’s cramped enough in the front seat and you feel so fucking good wrapped around him to even think about repositioning you.

With the slow roll of your hips, Jungkook curses. He takes your tit in his mouth to hide his face and how much you're affecting him. He’s gentle when he circles his tongue around your nipple but quickly tugs on it with his teeth just to get your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking wet for me,” he growls as you slide easily on his cock, your moans filling the space between you as he touches every bit of you that he can. He curses when you tighten around him, his hand smacking your ass in response. You giggle, repeating your action to get another spank and a fiery kiss that curls your toes.

Soon, Jungkook grows tired of the slow pace. Mindful of your head, he lifts his hips to meet yours. You dig your nails into his skin as you hold on tight, screaming his name as the windows fog. Jungkooks pace rattles your bones, his moans mixed with yours in his eagerness to cum.

“Fuck, Kook. Babe, please,” you feel his thumb rub rigid circles on your clit as he slams into you, rocking the vehicle. He groans, kissing you as your fingers grip his hair as tight as possible. Pleasure courses through you, your orgasm building until you’re finally screaming his name into his sweaty chest, begging for more.

“Nothing but a cock hungry slut, huh? Need my cock so bad you’re willing to get fucked before work just to feel my cum sliding down your thighs all night. Hmm, perhaps you can actually keep it inside tonight like a good girl?” Jungkook spurs on.

You nod, head empty but needing to be filled and orgasm. Your body trembles, lips pressed to his own as his tongue slides past the seam of your lips, his two lip rings cold to the touch.

“Jungkook!”

“That’s it, baby. Take my cock just like that. Fuck!” Jungkook’s head lolls back, stomach clenching and you’re right behind him as your orgasm hits, thighs shaking on either side of his hips as he continues to thrust into you, cursing your name when he finally cums. 

Jungkook smiles, his hands stroking your back as you slump against his chest. 

“Ugh, my thighs are burning,” You complain on his chest. His chest rumbles as he laughs, his hands adjusting your skirt as he holds you. He kisses the top of your head, his breath ruffling your hair as he continues to laugh. 

“I told you to join me at the gym,” he reminds you and you lift your head just enough to stick your tongue out at him. 

“Fuck off,” you grumble as you cuddle him for a few more minutes before you’re peeling yourself off his sweaty chest and groaning as you try to climb back into your own seat without getting cum on the fabric. 

Jungkook reaches behind him, grabs his duffel bag, and opens the side pocket. He hands you a pair of clean panties and you roll your eyes. 

“Just because I left them at your place doesn’t mean you have to bring them with you,” you mutter. 

Jungkook’s grin is wide as you put your underwear on and then your shirt. 

“But you’re glad you’re not dripping everywhere, huh?” 

“Shut up,” you huff as you hand him his shirt and he tugs his sweatpants back into place. 

“Come on, we need a shower and there’s a Red Bull calling your name,” Jungkook groans as he pops his neck and grabs his duffel bag. He arranges his seat back into place and climbs out of the SUV.

You wait for him to open your door, your legs are still shaky as you go to your car to grab your belongings. 

Jungkook waits for you, taking your small bag over his shoulder to join his own. Normally, he’d wrap his arm around your shoulder, allowing you to lead him to the back door, where your key unlocks the entrance to let you both in. 

However, tonight he’s feeling a little bold, and he laces his fingers with yours, ignoring the heat of your stare on the side of his face. His hair is ruffled and falls over his eyes to curtain himself out of your direct sight. He’s grateful when you don’t say anything, just give his hand a squeeze in assurance. 

The obnoxious chirping of birds wakes you up the next morning. You groan, covering your head with a pillow and throwing the covers over you for good measure. 

However, your eyes pop open when the scent of a familiar cologne hits your nostrils. Flashes of last night slam you in the face and you groan again as you realize you’ll have to pick your car up from work later. 

“Good morning,” Jungkook’s sleep-addled voice greets you. You turn to face him and groan, reaching out to cover his mouth before he can speak again. You feel his lips turn upward in a grin and you curse before pulling the pillow and covers off your face. 

“What time is it?” You mumble as you palm at the nightstand to find your phone. 

“6:34,” he answers you as the light from your phone makes you wince. You’d gotten home and showered a little over three hours ago. You were planning on sleeping in and going grocery shopping and now you were waking up in Jungkook’s bed again.

“Why are you up so damn early?” You huff. 

“I needed a snack and heard you tossing and turning. Did you miss me?” He wiggles his eyebrows and makes you laugh. 

“Not even a little bit,” you lie, but Jungkook can see the way you’re holding back a smile, so he kisses your cheek instead. 

“Always so mean in the mornings,” he whispers as he wraps his arm around your waist. 

“And you’re still in my bed, so,” you shrug as best as possible as you turn to press your back to his chest. Jungkook cuddles you, his head resting on your chest. 

“Technically, you’re in my bed,” he grins. 

“Brat,” you scoff. 

“You love it,” he hums as he kisses your shoulder. You don’t say anything else as he continues to kiss his way up to your neck, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into you until you’re moaning his name.

The first moan that escapes you, has you spreading your legs. 

Jungkook smirks. His fingers dance down the curve of your body. He pauses at your nipples to tease them with his featherlight touch, watching your eyes flutter shut and another moan escape your lips. 

When he presses against you, he’s already hard. The only thing separating you is his boxers. You stole one of his shirts to sleep in when you got to his place, too tired to throw anything else on. 

The shirt bunches at your ribs before he’s slowly lifting you to help you out of it. He watches as you tease your nipples, his hand going to stroke his cock over the cotton fabric of his boxers, before he’s kicking them off to get lost in the covers. 

“Please, Kook. I want to feel you,” you whisper as he presses himself against you. He lifts your leg over his own, lining his cock up at your entrance, unsurprised to find you dripping wet already. He bites back a groan, sinking into you in one thrust. Your eyes shut and you curse, the stretch just as delicious as the night before.  

Jungkook’s thrusts are slow, your hips meeting his as he mouths at your skin. Your soft moans are muffled by the pillow under your head when you turn. Jungkook frowns, making you look at him from over your shoulder. 

His eyes are dark and filled with lust, the twinkle long gone and you curse when he fucks into you deeper. 

“Focus on me, baby,” he demands as he grinds against you, his thumb rubbing your clit as his lips take a nipple into his mouth. You melt beneath him, gasping when he tugs at your nipple with his teeth.

“Fuck, just like that, Kook.”

Jungkook hums happily, grinning as he continues and you turn into a puddle. You ignore the way your heart skips a beat, adoration for him invading your mind. 

You know this whole friends-with-benefits would backfire for you. You could never keep it casual and maybe you knew that when you agreed and maybe you were willing to put your heart on the line for him because a part of you hoped he wanted more. 

Jungkook kisses you. “Stop thinking so much and take my fat cock, baby.”

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you moan when a sharp thrust makes your tits bounce and your thoughts are forgotten. 

Jungkook chuckles, kissing your cheek as he fucks into you nice and slow. He laces your fingers together, moaning softly into your neck, and he can’t help but think how intimate it feels to take you like this. There’s nothing better than having you in his arms, moaning his name as he holds you tight, refusing to let you go for even a second. He knew the moment he met you, that you’d be everything to him, but somehow things got lost in translation. Jungkook doesn’t let his thoughts consume him another second, though, focusing on your pleasure and his instead.

Before long, you’re both spent. Panting, you turn on your back as he sits up to face you. He’s smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he tongues his lip piercings. 

“Babe?” He asks with a shy smile. 

“What?” You ask as you sit up with the covers over your chest.

“Check your phone,” he says simply, nervously playing with his lip ring. 

You groan and reach for your phone, deleting the notifications from the hours you were asleep or otherwise occupied. 

Once all your notifications from your social media are gone, you spot Jungkook’s text. Only this time you’ve changed his name and the message has you pausing. 

[Kookie 💜] 6:31 am

Will you go on a date with me?

“Jungkook,” you say his name quietly and he ignores the way his heart seems to clench.

“I’d love to!” You throw your phone onto the bed, forgotten until later when you change the sheets and the thump startles you. 

Your arms drape wound his bare chest and relief washes over him. He kisses your cheek, then your forehead. 

“Come on,” he says, patting the bed. “Let’s get some sleep and then we can go on our date.”

“I have no clothes here,” you remind him and he shakes his head. 

“You have that pink sundress and sandals here from that one time you came over and stole my clothes,” he states with a playful roll of his eyes. 

“A sundress?” You raise a brow. He nods over eagerly and you can already tell he’s got plans for you. Perhaps he’ll hike the dress over your ass in need of a quickie before your date.

Regardless, you’re very much on board for later, but for now, sleep is calling your name and so is Jungkook as you stare at his broad chest. 

“My eyes are up here,” he teases, yelping when you pinch his nipple in retaliation. 

“Get some sleep,” you poke his cheek, settling into bed with his arms around you and your head on his chest. 

Jungkook can’t help but think, this is the best Monday I’ve ever had. 

next >>

thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Uncanny Valley: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: Therapy isn't something you're taking too well, but if you want to keep your job, you'll continue to go. you're forced to confront thoughts and memories of your own family when you come across the father of the unsub.

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

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

As soon as the plane lands, Derek and Emily talk to both victim families. They were confused as to why they needed to bring pictures of their daughters but they followed the rules regardless. The loved ones of the victims didn't understand the importance of the pictures but it's because the unsub is looking for a specific body type.

Stacia went to the gym about three times a week because she took pride in every aspect of her appearance. She often went to high-end boutiques that were very expensive but because she was so tiny, she had to have everything tailored to fit her right. When presented with her death photo, Stacia's mother explicitly stated that Stacia would never wear something like that.

Rita worked out just not as much as Stacia. She liked to shop around but only in thrift stores. She and her husband didn't have a lot of money so she tried to save as much as she could where she could. Her husband didn't notice if she ever tailored her clothes to fit her better, but he took one look at her death photo and immediately told Derek that she'd never wear that dress.

Not only is the unsub dressing them how she wants them to be dressed, but she's also posing her victims in a place that represents childhood and innocence. Most serial killers don't particularly have a happy childhood. Your guess is she wants them to have the fun she never got to have.

Despite finding a potential motive, how is she getting these women from her car to where she dumps their bodies? It has to be in the middle of the night so she doesn't get caught, and she must need a vehicle that can give her the privacy she needs like a van or an SUV. Still, that's a lot of ground to cover once she parks. Even if those women are light, she risks getting caught carrying a corpse.

If she has a medical background, she might be using a wheelchair to transport the women from the car to the dump sites. If she has a wheelchair, that means her van or SUV has a lift. If it has a lift, then she has to have a handicap placard. That placard would give her the closest parking spot which means less ground to cover.

Spencer has been so patient with you but you feel like you're not doing enough for him. You're constantly nervous but being with him helps even if it's just a little bit. With gloved hands, you touch the hair of both victims to try and connect with the unsub's energy. What you do gather isn't good.

"She's seriously mentally ill, Spencer."

The ME scoops Rita like a bride from her morgue bed and lays her on the examination table.

"Once I have the knees bent, I can get leverage under her. Normally, an assistant helps me but I can do it by myself if I need to."

"I'm assuming the unsub would have this training, too. Let me ask you this, is there anything specific about it?"

"No, any caregiver out there can do this like doctors, nurses, and orderlies."

"Where do you think she's getting the drugs that she's using? Do you think she could be manipulating a doctor or a pharmacist, maybe?"

"He'd be criminally negligent if she was."

"It's possible, though, right? Doctors order things through residents, nurses forge signatures, and prescriptions fall through the cracks."

"That's a lot of drugs and a lot of cracks. She keeps these women paralyzed for two months."

"Your report said both of them had hair extensions clipped in, right?"

"Yes, to hide the fact that clumps of their real hair had fallen out."

"If they were fed through an IV, their hair flailing out wasn't from malnutrition. Why did it fall out?" you ask.

"You see this a lot in bedridden patients. Loss of motor function especially in a young woman like this."

"Of course," Spencer says and looks at you. You have your thumbnail in your mouth which you are nervously chewing. "Psychic shock. The mental effects take a physical toll." Spencer grabs your hand that's by your mouth so you're not ruining your nails. "One last question. In your professional opinion, do you think the hair extensions were clipped on before or after death?"

"Before. You know the old wives' tale about your hair and nails growing after death? What's really happening is that dehydration is shrinking your skin and pulling it back. Based on where she put these extensions, they were definitely still alive."

"Thank you. We should get going." You two leave the ME's office and back to the car. "How are you doing?"

"Better when I'm with you."

You lean up and kiss him, holding onto that feeling of hope. He is everything you need and you don't want that feeling to go away. He takes you back to the station and meets up with everyone. Once everyone explains what they found, you can discuss the next steps.

"Now, we know this unsub is stuck in a rich fantasy, right? An incredibly detailed delusion. We don't know what the delusion is, but we know that it involves remaking these women and it begins the moment she has them drugged."

"So, she has them paralyzed and she can do whatever she wants? Why is she killing them?"

"Maybe they don't fit her idea of beauty," you say. "It looks to me like these women are dolls that she wants to dress up. I don't think she means to kill them. The brain is a machine designed to respond to stimuli. If you keep the brain awake but the body immobile, it breaks down and loses its hair. After two months, it eventually strokes out. Death isn't the unsub's goal. It's just an unfortunate side effect."

Derek and Emily come back, eager to tell everyone what they found.

"What did you find?" Hotch asks.

"Both Rita and Stacia were clothes hounds, but because they were petite women, they had a lot of their stuff altered. It could be how our unsub is finding her victims. She gets her hands on their measurements, but we've exhausted tailors and alteration shops. There's no overlap."

"The tailors might send specialty items out to third parties. Dig deep into extended employment records and see who they might be subcontracting to."

JJ walks into the room with her phone to her ear.

"Garcia needs to talk to us."

"Go ahead," Hotch says once she is on speakerphone.

"Hello, my pretties. I have finished my missing persons sweep. I've got nothing on the medical vehicle, but two new matches on the clothes make the woman front. Cindy Edmundson was abducted outside a thrift store, and Maxine Wynan was last seen at the Hillridge Mall."

"Sounds like our girl. Any surveillance footage at the mall?"

"No, it was an outside parking lot."

"What's their physical type?"

"They look pretty tiny to me. I'm gonna send you pictures. Also, if it pleases the court, I would like to direct your attention to exhibit 'A', the calendar map. Both of these new victims were abducted one week ago, exactly one day before the bodies of Rita and Stacia turned up."

"She doesn't let a body go until she has a replacement," Hotch sighs.

You'd hope that the unsub got who she wanted but another report of a body turning up came through. This time, she was left on a public park bench for everyone to see. The detective on the case meets you at the park that has already been cleared out and sectioned off.

"Her name is Mary Newsome. She was abducted two months ago and found on this bench first thing this morning."

"It looks like her style," Emily says. "The fabric is Chiffon and it's sewn to fit. If she's disposed of this body, it means she's recently taken a new victim. I'll call Hotch and we'll comb through missing persons reports from the last forty-eight hours.

"I'll pull them," the detective offers.

Spencer puts a glove on and inspects Mary's head. He frowns when he sees sewing threads on the base of her hairline.

"These aren't hair extensions. This is a wig. Kanekalon, I think. It's synthetic hair. There's nothing special about it. It's used in wigs all over the world. She sewed this wig on."

Local police take over the crime scene so your team can head back to the station to discuss further.

"Hey, I think we found who was taken last night," Derek says. "Her name is Bethany Wallace. Her husband says she never came home from the dry cleaners where she stopped off to pick up some clothes."

"Did anyone at the cleaners see anything?"

"The employees were busy locking up, but they did mention that they do farm out work to tailors who work from home."

"Good. We can match records based on who worked on Bethany's clothes." Hotch's phone rings and he looks at the message Penelope sent everyone. "We just got the pictures of the two recent abductions from Garcia. "Line up the photos of the new victims next to the bodies they replaced. That might help us with the timeline."

"Do you see this?" Derek asks.

You turn to look at the photos and see similarities between the women she's taken versus the women she's dumping.

"She's matching up the victims physically one to one. She's a collector."

"I told you. She liked dolls," you shrug.

"We're ready to give the profile."

The detective collects all of his men and women so they can hear the profile. You're sitting off to the side and letting your team handle this one. Even talking is exerting too much energy for you. Hotch knows you're in pain and will do whatever he can to help you, and you appreciate him so much.

You hate how much you're hiding in the shadows lately.

"The unsub we're looking for is a woman. She's a collector. It's a psychopathology similar to hoarding. When we say collector, we're not talking about stamps or baseball cards. It's not what your kids, or even you, might pursue as a normal hobby. This is an attachment to objects that's become obsessive by someone who is antisocial and extremely introverted."

"These people attach a part of themselves to their collection. If you try to separate them from it, they will react violently, even psychotically. This unsub has suffered damage to her prefrontal cortex. That's the part of the brain that regulates basic Freudian fantasy/reality. She can still function, like drive a car, go to work, and even do her taxes. In fact, she excels at goal-oriented jobs like the precision of sewing or the details of an abduction."

"However, she's lost her ability to categorize the difference between living and dead. That has been irreparably destroyed," Rossi says.

"You're saying she's collecting women?" the detective asks.

"We think she's collecting dolls, or more accurately, replacing them," Spencer answers. "We believe that she lost the originals sometime within the last three months. This is what served as her stressor. She searched for a replacement and when she couldn't find them, she started abducting the closest possible surrogate, women of different ethnicities but of similar physicality."

"The drug-induced paralysis is part of the fantasy. She puts her victims in a position where they can't talk back so she can fetishize them like the objects she's lost."

"Look, I respect your analysis but this woman kidnapped six women and killed three of them. You're telling me this is about dolls?" the detective scoffs.

"This unsub stitched a wig onto the scalp of her latest victim. It's a technique used to attach hair to porcelain dolls. Keep in mind that collectors and serial killers do share certain traits. A lot of serial killers take trophies, attaching the same significance to them that this collector does to objects."

"This unsub's intent isn't violence," Rossi adds to Spencer's thought. "She needs this collection to be complete so she can feel in control of her life, probably to overcome some trauma she experienced."

"She really only feels that control when the collection is complete which is why she's repeating an abduction pattern with living victims. If she loses a doll or in this case, if she loses a woman who represents a doll, she has to replace it."

"This woman works alone. We know she has medical training. Look for nurse's aides or orderlies who we fired for a lack of social grace. She can't fake a bedside manner. We believe she's currently working as a tailor or a seamstress, and we're following those leads now. Do let us know if you notice any overlap in your suspect pools. Thank you."

JJ follows a lead straight to a tailor who has done some work for Stacia. JJ got her hands on the dress she was found in after it went through processing so she could go around to different stores and see who might have made this design. The tailor Stacia went to didn't even sell the design she was found in, but the seamstress did find something interesting with the stitching marks on the hem.

There is a handkerchief pattern that's usually found on silk-sewn handkerchiefs. It's all done by hand which is unique to the unsub. It's her signature. Not even a machine can do it because it's so delicate. There isn't a place that specializes in handcrafted sewing like that but the seamstress is impressed.

The unsub is an artist, that's for sure.

Emily got in touch with Beth's husband, Karl, and he came into the station right away to see if there was something being done to find his wife.

"Do you know where my wife is?" he asks.

"We're searching for her, sir."

"No, you have to find her in the next twenty-four hours. She's a diabetic. She needs her medicine or she will die." He sighs and looks at everyone. "Agent Prentiss said this woman has medical training. Does that mean Bethany has a chance?" Silent befalls the group. "What is it?"

"She keeps her victims in a drug-induced state. They can't communicate."

"Oh, God," Karl choke-sobs. "Will these drugs...?"

"We don't know, but we're doing everything we can," Hotch answers his unspoken question.

x

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[kitwilsonsass]

i think i'm onto something here.

maedhros as the honest clerk who keeps things running and knows everyone by name. everyone's happy to see him, always. rumor has it his arm doesn't work because he chased a robber off with a swiffer mop and got into a brawl with 11 men. the gangs all respect him, now.

maglor as the clerk that spends most of the day sitting outside the door smoking and strumming an acoustic guitar. but the drawer is short sometimes, so he puts the change random people give him even though he's not asking for it back into the business.

the twins as the actual pump attendants just happy to have a part time job so they can buy their own car one day. they fight over who gets bigger tips. that suv that caught fire one time wasn't their idea, honest.

caranthir as the 'skims money from the drawer and just tells people to take their cigarettes and fuck off' because he does not have time to fuss with people's fucking fake IDs who fucking cares. fuck off.

celegorm as the one only there on friday and saturdays at late hours in inappropriate work attire to give.... ahem.... car washes. covered a morning shift for maedhros once and gave a car wash to an elderly woman. an ambulance was called. she had a heart attack. he is no longer allowed to cover morning shifts. also feeds leftover donuts to raccoons out in the back trash despite pleas to stop.

...curufin as the one accepting the money for the... 'car washes.' constantly mistaken for the owner. got a stern talking to for conducting suspicious business on the premises but charmed his way out of it on multiple occasions.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

There's No Place Like Home: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Charlie is back from Oz but she's not quite how Sam and Dean remember her. You're pretending to be on your best behavior, but you're making it clear that anyone who stands in your way is only going to end up hurt.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Instead of leaving and going back to a motel, both brothers staked out her house just in case. If Charlie is going after these people, she'll come for Barbra sooner or later. Dean got some food while Sam stayed outside of her house doing research on Charlie and what happened to her parents.

Dean got this healthy sandwich with kale that he isn't too fond of but he eats it nonetheless.

"While you were gone, I found Charlie's file online. It says here that she has anti-authority disorder, clinical depression, and violent outbursts. Man, Charlie was--"

"Dude. If a shrink interviewed us at that age, do you think the report would be all kittens and rainbows?" Dean cut his brother off. "Come on. She's a good kid. There's got to be an explanation for this, man. There's just got to be."

An hour passes before they hear a scream come from Barbara's house. They break into her house and see Charlie dressed in dark clothing standing with Barbara in her living room.

"I should have known Rocket and Groot would track me down. What, no witch?"

"Let her go," Sam glares.

"Who, her? I just want answers."

"Since when do you start pounding on people for those? What the hell happened to you in Oz?" Dean asks.

"Everything I wanted. An adventure. I even got my own little sword."

"Charlie--"

"Oh, Sam, you're adorable. You're not gonna hurt me. In fact, that's your problem--all good-guy code, no bite. What a waste." She turns to Dean. "You're always letting this albatross hold you back."

"Okay, I don't know what's going on here, but this is not you."

"Oh, it's me alright."

She twirls the knife in her hand with a smirk on her face.

"Charlie, put the knife down. Let her go. We don't want to hurt you, kiddo, but we're not gonna let you do this."

Charlie doesn't care if Sam and Dean are here, she immediately charges toward them to fight. They aren't expecting her to be so violent so they don't react quick enough. Dean takes most of the force while Sam takes Barbara to a safe place. Charlie has moves Dean has never seen before and she manages to lock her legs around Dean's neck tightly.

"Sam!" Dean gasps out.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks once he and Barbara are safe.

"Yeah."

"What did she say to you?"

"She wanted the bank statements."

Charlie tosses Dean to the ground and kicks him away before escaping out the front door.

"Charlie!" Dean curses and chases after her but she is already driving away in an SUV. He goes to the Impala to chase after her but realizes she has slashed his tires to prevent him from going after her. "Son of a bitch!!"

Sam comes running out of the house once he's done with Barbara, and he looks in the direction where she sped off.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam pants.

A yellow beetle comes speeding down the road to Sam and Dean and parks right in front of them. Dean has to do a double look to make sure the driver is who he sees it is.

"What's up, bitches?" Charlie says with a smile. Sam and Dean give her a confused look. "Right. We should probably catch up."

Dean calls someone to get his car fixed, and Charlie takes both brothers to the nearest diner to eat and talk about why there are two of her running around. After ordering, she looks around the place in confusion before sitting down across from her.

"Where's Y/N?"

"In the dungeon."

"What? Why?"

"She doesn't have a soul. I died, became a demon, got cured, but sucked her soul into my body. It's a whole thing but she's not herself. That's the short story. Now, onto you. What happened in Oz?"

"Yeah, there are two of me running around this town."

"Yeah, is dick you is some sort of a ninja?" Dean scoffs.

"She is badass, yeah."

"Okay, back up. Explain something to me. We saw you go with Dorothy into Oz."

"Yeah, it was fine for a little bit until the war of Emerald City happened. It was awesome until it wasn't. We were gonna lose so I made a deal with the Wizard of Oz. He said for us to win, I had to unleash my true darkness which he meant literally. He used the inner key of Oz. It opens a door to your soul and lets the darkness out. We're still connected physically. If you hurt her, you hurt me. The bottom line, she's bad and I'm good. Let me just tell you, being good is really annoying. Normally in a place like this, I'd be pounding Harvey Wallbangers and checking out the bartender's ass. Now all I want to do is sip club soda and send her to college."

"Okay, why is Dark!Charlie gunning for revenge?"

"She's trying to win me back. Dark!Charlie won the war single-handedly, but she did some truly awful things. I told her I didn't want any part of her near me again, ever. Going after the person who mur--mur--uh," She can't say the word 'murder' since she's the good parts of herself, "who took my parents away is her messed-up way of showing me how close we are or could be. I keep calling her 'she' but she's me. I'm the one doing this."

"Charlie, that's not who you are, okay? She's a twisted version of--"

"Me," she finishes his sentence. "I've been following her so I can catch her before she does something stupid, and just lock her away forever."

"Charlie? That's not an answer."

"Is that what you're doing to Y/N?"

"That's a different story. She'll get her soul back and until then, she stays in that dungeon."

"Sam's right. We'll go back to Oz, and we'll get the key from the Wizard of Douche, and we'll put you back together."

"Even if I did want her back, Dark!Charlie broke the key. There's no way to get back to the Wizard."

"Okay, first things first, we need to find Dark!Charlie before she finds the drunk driver. We know Barbara gave up her old bank statements, right? That means Dark!Charlie will probably follow the money back to whoever made the payoffs."

"That's what I would do," Charlie nods.

"I'll get some refills," Dean says and gets up to go to the bar counter.

He can't help but think of you and if locking you up is the best decision. If he thinks too much about it, he's gonna leave and let you out himself. You're not sure how much longer you can take being alone in the dungeon but you know Cas has been making regular visits to check on you to make sure you're still in the dungeon.

Just like clockwork, you can hear Cas walking down the stairs to the dungeon.

"Cas? I know you're out there," you say next to the door. "Come on, are you really going to ignore me?"

"I'm here to check on you. That's it."

"Open the door, Cas. I want to see you when I'm talking to you."

Cas thinks he's enough to stop you if you try anything, and he'd be right. He's an angel and you're a human. Even though you're soulless, impulsive, and aggressive, he's still an angel. Cas opens the door and stays in the doorway to prevent you from leaving.

"What do you want?"

"Look, I've spent the last month in here. In that time, I really believe I learned my lesson."

"Nice try."

"No, I'm serious, Castiel." You slink up to his side and place a hand on his chest over his tie. "Look where my past behavior has gotten me. I don't want to be in here alone, anymore. I want to be able to live my life. So, no more being sarcastic. No more hurting people. I don't want it anymore. Please believe me."

It's the way you're looking at him that has him folding. You give him the same puppy dog eyes you have given him in the past, and he chooses to believe you. Wrong choice. He nods and steps aside to let you leave, and you lean up and give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Castiel."

You walk away from him and when you know he can't see your face, you turn that sweet smile into a mischievous smirk. When you get to the garage, you start up Dorothy's motorcycle and peel out of there to join them in Topeka.

Sam, Dean, and Charlie have been working together to try and find out who the owner of the bank statements Barbara had to give up is. Getting this information is going to take a while but until Dean's car is done, they can't really do anything but sit here and wait.

The front door opens but none of them bother to look up to see who had entered the diner. They only look up when you slide into the booth next to Charlie.

"Hey, Charlie. Hi, boys."

"What the fuck?" Dean whispers. "What are you doing here? Who let you out?"

"Your dumbass angel did. All I had to do was bat my eyelashes and fake being sad for it to work. He really is easy once you know how to play him," you smirk.

"Fucking child," Dean shakes his head.

"You're lucky I'm not shoving a knife into your gut for what you did to me. Lock me up again and I promise you'll join your parents in hell." You turn to Charlie and give her a sweet smile. "Speaking of, how's your mom doing? Hell must be pretty hot this time of year."

Charlie opens her mouth to respond but she can't say anything rude to you. Dean kicks you underneath the table and thankfully, you shut up about it.

"Okay, Charlie, we need you to hack into Barbara's bank accounts."

"I can't. It's bad. I told you, being good is annoying."

"Okay, how about you guide me through the process, and then I'm the bad one?" She does and he is able to access her bank statements. "Okay, so, Barbara's payments all came from offshore accounts which were routed through dummy corporations. They have all gone belly-up."

"Who do they lead to?"

"Russell Wellington. According to his personal records, he had a car that was reported stolen the week of the accident. The car was never recovered. After the supposed theft, he went on a sabbatical from work for two weeks and returned to work with bruises and a broken ankle."

Sam pulls up his picture and turns the laptop for you and Charlie to see.

"So, this is him? This is the man who killed my parents?"

Dean immediately closes the laptop so she doesn't fall down that rabbit hole.

"And you're done. Sam, a word, please?"

Before they can get up, Charlie stops them.

"Hey, dudes, secrets are bad."

"Fine. Charlie, I don't think you should be anywhere around this piece-of-shit salesman. We also don't think locking up Dark!Charlie is gonna work. She may be dark but she's still a part of you."

"There's a dark version of you running around? Is she more fun than you?" you ask.

"Debatable," she replies to you before addressing the brothers. "You're right. I hate it but you're right. Okay. Let's go to the bunker. Baum used the key to Oz. Maybe there's something in the Men of Letters' files about the key. If we fix it, we can get back to Oz."

"You two dig on that," Dean says. "Y/N and I are going to keep an eye on Russell and wait for Dark!Charlie to show up."

"Are you sure you want to let Y/N anywhere near Dark!Charlie?" Sam asks.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not sitting right in fucking front of you. If I wanna meet this more interesting version of Charlie, then I'm going to do it. I'd really like to see you stop me."

Dean has the remote that will activate the device on your neck but he doesn't want to know what will happen if he presses it. It'll piss you off enough to kill someone and he doesn't want that. You get up and leave the diner without waiting for Dean.

"Maybe I should be the one to do this."

"No, I got it," he sighs. "Not only do I have to protect his piece of shit, I have to deal with her."

"You have to protect Dark!Charlie. If she gets hurt, so does she."

"Be careful," Charlie chuckles nervously.

"I got it. Thanks."

x

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[herd-reject-arts]

Quit my job today because it very quickly became incredibly hostile when the one guy defending me from a shitty part-owner quit. Like, I've been enduring the most passive aggressive bullshit, and it's either I leave or I'm fighting a guy who thinks he's important because he drives an SUV that cost him 120k.

I am free! But: I am poor.

If anyone wants to purchase anything from my webbed site, I'd much appreciate. I'll hopefully be uploading more stuff and better photos tomorrow, but I don't have Internet or a laptop so I'm not entirely sure yet how I'm getting product photos into the interwebz 🤔

[aurorawritestoescape]

One Hell of a Ride

Extra for series The Devil in Me (can be read alone) part 1 part 2

Pairing: DEVIL!Dieter Bravo × fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, shameless porn, voyeurism, supernatural exhibitionism, daddy kink, praise kink, breast play, biting, vampirism, unprotected piv, m and f masturbation, creampie, lmk if I missed smth

Summary: The Devil, your horny lover, appears in your car and wants to give you the ride of your life. He doesn’t care that you are not alone. Do you?

Word count: 1,9k

A/n: thank you to everyone who supported this series and my writing, your comments and reblogs inspire me very much<3 Enjoy!😈

You left your city apartment with your PA, Becca, and two bodyguards at your side, ready to drive to some high-end restaurant for a magazine interview. Your stylist chose a simple but striking look: a white blouse and a red mini skirt with high-heeled sandals. Outside, you were met with a cheering crowd of fans and a pack of mildly irritating paparazzi. 

Your huge bodyguards, Bill and Tom, were escorting you to the car. You never had any stalkers or overzealous fans, thanks to the Devil giving you a perfect life on a golden platter, but you needed to act the part. Becca, was hurrying behind you, glued to her  phone and tapping on it from time to time. She was your right hand, juggling all your meetings, auditions, fittings, and shoots. She knew everything about your life, except for your relationship with the Devil, obviously. 

You all got into the back of a luxurious SUV.  Two rows of backseats were facing each other, and you sat between Becca and Bill, with Tom in the opposite row, next to the window. 

The car started driving along the busy city streets. “Smells of smoke,” Bill noted, and he immediately tensed, always ready to protect you. You also sensed the smell, but your reaction was different; giddiness and excitement warmed your heart as you associated it with your secret lover. Yet he wasn’t there. 

You were about to take out your phone and scroll through Instagram when you felt a familiar presence in the car. You glanced up and saw the owner of the smoke smell. The Devil was sitting in front of you next to Tom. The soft, dark waves of his curly hair were calling for your fingers. He was wearing a brown teddy fleece jacket with a green and white flannel shirt underneath, loose beige pants with blue patterns, and white sneakers. He looked hot. 

“Hi, baby,” he purred with a soft smile. 

Your eyes darted to the others in the car, but everybody was doing the same—Becca staring at her phone, the bodyguards scanning the streets through the window. Apparently, your companions couldn’t hear or see him. 

You weren’t startled by him, as he visited you quite often lately, always appearing out of thin air. But he never did it with people around, so you were getting more and more worried. You raised your eyebrows, asking him wordlessly, “What are you doing here?”

His Cheshire Cat smile made your stomach turn with nerves, as it always implied mischief. He couldn’t read your mind, but your expression was clear to him. 

“I was having such a boring day downstairs, want to play with my star.” His expression shifted as he looked at you with pleading eyes, but you felt confused. Surely, you couldn’t do anything at that moment. The slight shake of your head was a clear signal to him: “No.”

He pouted his plush lips and crossed his arms. You widened your eyes and darted your gaze to each person in the car with a silent “Not around them.”

He narrowed his eyes, leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs, and gave you his most salacious expression—obsidian half-lidded eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. 

“Don’t worry, darling. They are completely unaware of my presence,” he assured you, and then, with molasses in his voice, he added, “Let me  make you really enjoy this ride.” You swallowed loudly and pressed your crossed legs together tighter, feeling your panties getting wet. 

As if anticipating that reaction, the Devil took it as a green light. He leaned back again and put his big hand on his thigh. Then he glided it forward, and you jolted at the feeling of something touching your knee. “What’s wrong?” Becca asked, having sensed your jerk, but still focusing on her phone. “Nothing,” you lied, and after making sure that she wasn’t paying attention to you, you glared at the Devil. 

“Oh, have I startled you?” he cooed with a shit eating grin. He drew the hand forward, and the invisible force mimicked his move, inching up under your skirt to the apex of your thigh. You fidgeted in your seat but remained silent. Bill turned his head to you for a second, and after you gave him a polite smile, he continued staring out of the window. 

Your appearance remained calm, but your booming heart was betraying you, making the Devil aware of the state his force was putting you in. He raised the other hand in front of his broad chest, and you felt something cupping your right breast under your top, an invisible thumb circling your hardening nipple. You fluttered your eyes shut, quickly drowning in your blossoming arousal, but a pinch of your sensitive bud made you snap them open. "Eyes on me, baby," he ordered in a strict tone.

At the back of your mind, you were still frantically contemplating the risks. He had the ability to vanish at any second, not that anyone could see him anyway.

You were a very talented actress; surely you could act cool if caught. So it was decided—you were in on the fun.

A corner of your mouth curled up in a smirk, and you uncrossed your legs slowly, trying not to draw any attention. The Devil beamed at you with lust seeping out of his eyes.

“That’s my naughty girl,” he purred, and he moved his hand that was previously caressing your breast to his huge bulge, tenting his soft pants. Your jaw dropped, and your eyes followed his movements as he tugged down the waistband, slid his hand under the material, and freed his ungodly large cock. You two had fucked just a couple of days ago, yet you missed it already, its powerful length and girth reminding you of the heavenly heights you ascended riding it. 

You felt your panties getting really soaked then. The people around you didn’t look like obstacles anymore. Your thoughts were spiraling around your desire for the Devil, and his veiny hand around his giant member didn’t make it easier for you. 

“I can cum just looking at you, baby, imagining you riding my cock.” He slowly glided his hand up from the base to the tip, making a drop of precum glisten on the bulbous head. The sight filled your mouth with saliva. It was as if your body was solely created to welcome his cock in your mouth and cunt. He started pumping himself up and down with precise and unhurried movements, leering at you from under his dark lashes. You bit your lip with pleading eyes. 

“Would you like me to play with your pussy, darling?” he asked, his breaths getting heavier. 

The ghost of his hand moved up, reaching your panties. As if to answer him, you opened your thighs just a little, and he placed his invisible fingers over your heat, flattening them and moving them in circles. You desperately wanted them on your skin. 

Using his power, the Devil sneaked his fingers under the side of your panties, and pulled them aside. In that position, with your legs slightly open in your mini skirt and panties out of the way, he could see your glistening folds perfectly. 

“I wish there were no one else here. I miss your taste in my mouth,” he whispered, his eyes glinting with carnal desire. “I’d make you scream so loud on my tongue.”

You felt the taste of copper in your mouth as his talk made you bite your lip again and again. His invisible fingers slid between your folds, and he began rubbing your clit at a tortuously slow pace. You wanted to move your hips to grind your cunt against his hand, but it was impossible without drawing the attention of the other passengers. The Devil was revelling in your desperation with a smug smirk on his face, yet you could sense that he was growing quite impatient himself. His hand began pulling on his cock faster, and his groans grew louder, reaching only your ears. 

“Do you want daddy’s cum in your pussy, baby? Or can I cum right here into my fist?”

He knew your answer—you always loved to be filled to the brim by him, still leaking his spend on your thighs long after your hook-ups. 

Yet when you lifted your hips a little, signaling to him where exactly you wanted his seed, his devilish grin told you that he wasn’t done playing with you yet. The hand on his cock slowed down, and he informed you of his conditions, panting slightly. 

“I tell you what, darling, if you cum right now, with the people around, I will pump you full. But if not...” he traced the tip of his leaking cock with his thumb. “If not, I will have to make a mess here.”

You always welcomed a challenge. You gave him a playful wink. Feeling the rush of excitement, you tried to concentrate on the pleasure: his invisible fingers slowly rubbing your throbbing clit, the sight of him pleasuring himself; the hunger in his eyes as he was leering at your dripping cunt. 

Suddenly, you felt the ghost touch under your blouse return. He began gently twitching your nipples, and that added contact sent you over the edge. Overwhelmed by the sensations, you felt the surge of heat descend from your stomach, your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing. You shut your eyes and held your breath, and your whole body got rigid as your climax washed over you. You were sitting perfectly still, yet your mind was ablaze with scorching bliss. His force didn’t leave your body, prolonging your orgasm and making it more and more difficult to contain yourself. When you relaxed, his invisible hands disappeared, and you gave him a soft, satisfied smile. “Good girl!” he praised you, gave you a wink, and vanished, still holding his weeping cock.  

A few moments later, your car stopped at the restaurant, and having made the excuse that you needed to use the bathroom, you rushed to meet your lover. The Devil was waiting for you there, immediately enveloping you in his passionate embrace. He pulled you to the sinks, pressed your front to the countertop, pulled up your skirt, and tugged down your soaked panties. His lips found your neck as he impaled you on his throbbing cock, your slick letting him do it in one swift move. As he was railing you from behind, groaning carnally, in the bathroom mirror, you watched yourself grabbing his unruly curls as he was sucking on your neck and marking you with hickeys. When you reached your second orgasm, he bit the crease between your shoulder and the neck and licked the blood off. He quickly followed with his own release, spilling his hot seed inside you. Everything he gave you that day—the hickeys, the bite mark,  his cum dripping out of you—all of it was visible only to your eyes, as the Devil remained your most precious secret. 

😈

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!🩵

Tags: @lumpatto @love-affair-with-fandoms @permanentlydizzy @glshmbl @sofiparallel

[saithebatguy]

Bat Tours and Ballybogs Pt. 2 || Alistair, Sai & Wyatt

TIMING: Recent PARTIES: @deathsplaything, @saithebatguy, @loftylockjaw LOCATION: On the edge of town SUMMARY: Wyatt comes back to his car to find Sai and Alistair hiding inside. CONTENT WARNINGS: Car accident tw, drug use tw (in the vein of frog spit)

Alistair and Sai had been trapped in the car for almost two hours, and Sai was starting to accept waiting out the giant frog wasn’t going to work. The creature had stopped pacing around the car maybe an hour earlier, but settled down in front of it, watching the two of them through the front windshield. The one time Sai went to open the car door, hoping it might be drifting off, the frog was up and after him in just a couple of seconds. Sai had slammed the door closed again, and decided against that plan. For now anyway. There was still a long time until sunrise. 

Alistair wasn’t much help. Most of what he’d said after encountering the frog was impossible for Sai to understand. It was hard to tell if it was another language mixed in with English or just an accent too thick to decipher. “Are you feeling any better?” Sai asked them. It had been a while since the two of them had attempted talking again. This would all be easier if Alistair had his wits about him, considering that they were the one who knew about this animal. Maybe there was a trick to making it go away. Or to killing it. 

Without any sort of plan, Sai started looking through the contents of the car, to see if there was anything worth finding. He didn’t have high hopes. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, but he didn’t have a lot of better ideas. 

—

He should have parked closer to the bar, he thought. Or really, he shouldn't have driven into town at all. He should have just gotten a cab, like a sensible person. If he'd done that, he'd be able to sleep in his own fucking bed, as much as he dreaded the idea. It was night three of no sleep, and he knew he couldn’t hold out any longer. At least the bed would've been more comfortable than the backseat of his car. At least Charlie might have been there to help him bounce back from the nightmares. 

He hoped he didn't fuck up his interior by raging out after a nap.

Drunk and stumbling through the dark, Wyatt pulled his keys from his pocket and clicked the unlock button on the fob a few times, following the SUV's blinking lights. But… huh? Something was briefly illuminated in the red glow of the taillights, and the lamia paused. “What.” That something let out a croak. Oh. Just a stupid frog, he thought. Big one. He hit the unlock button again. 

That frog was the size of a dog.

“What the fuck?” the lamia laughed, swaying on the spot. “Bro. Go away. You're weird.” He was distracted for a moment by a different sound, one that was coming from his car. Was that a… voice? Was there some motherfucker IN his CAR? Wyatt bristled, growing immediately annoyed and paranoid. “Hey! What are you—” He didn't get to finish his question as the huge frog sprang closer, opening it's mouth and—oh, what the fuck was that? Wyatt reeled back as something nasty hit him square in the neck, reaching a hand up to reflexively wipe it away. “Dude! Come on!”

—

They’d been stuck in this stranger’s car for what felt like hours. Alistair had tried to call Melody, but it went to voicemail, so she couldn’t save them. Instead, Alistair continued to hear and see things he shouldn’t have. He was grateful when the feeling started to wear off, leaving him to regret whatever he said to Sai. At least he was speaking Scots, so either way, the guy couldn’t really understand him. That was a point in the win category as far as Alistair was concerned.

Alistair sighed when Sai started rooting around in the car for something to arm himself with. “Don’t think that’s a good idea,” He muttered, leaning his head back against the headrest in the back seat. “Guy could come back and–” that’s when he heard shouting. Yep, the owner of the car, right on cue. Alistair rolled his eyes and opened the door and stumbled out, hands up in the air in sign of clear surrender. 

“We were hiding from the ballybog.” He explained as the stranger was hit. “And now you’re going to have a really fun trip. Or bad trip, depending on which way you land.” Alistair explained to the man with a tight-lipped smile. He unfolded his mobility cane and swiveled it around, deciding he was done with the whole situation. He’d find his own way back, he didn’t care anymore. 

—

“It’ll be fine,” Sai answered Alistair, unconcerned, as he dug through the car. Worst case scenario some human showed up, and he wasn’t exactly worried about one of those. But he did pause his searching when he could hear that Alistair’s voice sounded mostly normal again. He was about to try asking them more about the frog again, when he was interrupted by yelling outside. Well, if the car owner got mauled by the frog, it wouldn’t change their current situation much. Only then Alistair was getting out of the car.

“The frog’s still out there.” He called after Alistair, out of the door they’d opened. It seemed like they were still high after all. “I really think you should get back in the car.” Although if Alistair’s intoxicated self was really that determined to get himself killed, there was only so much Sai would do to keep them from getting eaten by the frog.

Apparently, Alistair thought this was a great time to start talking to the person who had just showed up. “If you’re going to go get killed by the frog, could you close the door at least?” Sai said, already climbing over to do it himself. Although, he considered, maybe the humans would be enough of a distraction for the frog that now might be as good a time as any for Sai to make a run for his own car. 

—

“From the what?” Wyatt snapped, his gaze focused on the frog. He was going to trip? What did that even mean, coming from a frog? He continued to swipe at the slime on his neck, watching the blind stranger turn heel and leave. “Fine. Fuckin’.... weirdo,” Wyatt grumbled, scurrying back as the frog hopped toward him again. “Hey! Piss off!” he shouted at it, watching as his car door was pulled shut by someone still inside. “Hey! You too! Piss off, get outta my fuckin’ car!” He went to make a break for the SUV, but the world tilted underfoot and he slumped to the ground instead. The frog hopped closer and spit again, and Wyatt lost it. 

“Okay, shitbag, let’s see how your legs taste,” he snarled, kicking off his shoes. The frog croaked (somehow menacingly) and Wyatt continued to strip. Off came the socks, then the jacket, shirt, and pants. He’d gotten pretty good at doing it quickly (for a number of reasons), and the shift began the moment his boxer-briefs hit the pavement. Lunging at the frog, who looked about as surprised as a frog can, Wyatt parted his growing gator jaws and snapped it up into them, biting down and shaking his head violently from side to side like a dog with a chew toy. Obviously, the ballybog didn’t stand much of a chance, but neither did Wyatt. The dose of hallucinogens sinking into his mucous membrane was outrageous, and it was only a few seconds of shredding the creature in his jaws before he was rising up onto his feet, stumbling around on the spot before slumping over the top of the vehicle. 

“Oh….. my god,” he groaned, taking a moment to center himself. “Bad… bad frog. Taste bad.” Claws reached for the car door, one hooking over the handle and pulling it open. “Hey. You. This is—you’re… my…” God, talking was hard. Forget it. He stuck his maw into the vehicle, still dripping ballybog juice, and made a few lazy snaps in the stranger’s general vicinity. Maybe eating would make him feel better faster.

—

Trying their best to walk away from the situation, Alistair knew that they couldn’t just leave the weird bat enthusiast to fend for himself, as badly as they wanted to. So as they listened to the horrendous sounds of flesh being torn apart, Alistair realized that they probably weren’t dealing with someone who was simply human. No, they heard the sound of a large jaw snapping shut, something wasn’t right. They inwardly cursed for not bringing Brutus, for being completely in the dark as to what was happening. Internal conflict still raging on, they finally knew they had to act. They thought of their visit from Mikael on the day of the solar eclipse. They thought of how disappointed in them they had been. 

Shit, they thought before turning around and throwing their head back in annoyance and frustration before taking their mobility cane and leveling it over their shoulder like a baseball bat and charged for the creature who’s car it belonged to. All in all, it was a terrible idea, really. A blind man going to bat for someone they barely knew. Still, it was better than walking away without a care in the world, which they would have done before Mikael decided to call them out on their treacherous behavior. “Oi, leave ‘im alone!” Alistair demanded from the creature before swinging as hard as they could and cracking the white cane onto their back. 

“He’s definitely high out of his mind,” Alistair called to Sai, peeking out from behind the gator’s shoulder. “Go out the other door and get out of here!” Alistair, admittedly, was terrified. They’d just attacked someone who easily tore the ballybog apart and they were blind and couldn’t just run for it. “Though if you’d take me with you I’d greatly appreciate it!” He decided as an after thought, giving an awkward little grin. 

—

Well, the frog problem was taken care of, Sai could see that pretty clearly out the front windshield. The thing went up pretty quickly in a spray of frog guts and parts, and disappeared down the were-alligators mouth. But that turned into a new problem, as the alligator-man flopped towards the seat Sai was sitting in and tried to take a bite out of him. Alistair’s advice very well taken, Sai scrambled out the other door. 

“Yes, getting out of here now,” he said, grabbing Alistair, and running back down the street for the second time that night. “Thanks for the assist.” With any luck they’d make it to Sai’s car this time. At least Alistair sounded mostly lucid now, even if they were making choices like running towards giant frogs and whacking alligators. And the were-alligator definitely seemed like he hadn’t been as immune to the frog as Sai. With any luck he’d fall asleep in the seat of his car and forget all about them. “Some sort of alligator man,” Sai said to them between breaths. “Any idea what might stop one of those?” Normally he wouldn’t try to clue someone into the supernatural. Better for him if humans stayed naive, at least how his thinking went, even if others in his clan couldn’t care less. But getting out this alive seemed more important than feigning normalcy. Alistair might know something about whatever that man had been that Sai didn’t. “Silver maybe?” Sai said, thinking of werewolves. Not that he had any sort of silver on him. 

—

The whack to his back was more surprising than anything, and Wyatt grumbled in response as he realized his dinner was disappearing out the opposite door. “You leave ‘im alone!” he whined, just repeating whatever the person with the walking stick had said, not feeling especially clever right now. Feet scrambling and claws scraping against the concrete, Wyatt started to back himself out of the car, barely able to twist himself this way and that until, finally, he popped free and crumpled to the ground. The two carjackers were getting away! Vision swimming, Wyatt picked himself up off the street, lumbering after them on two legs, then four, then two again as he couldn’t seem to decide which was faster. (Neither was fast in his current state, luckily for Sai and Alistair.) 

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to care that he was chasing them through town—where a more lucid Wyatt would have just accepted the intrusion of his privacy and gone to sleep in his car after kicking them out as planned, a very high Wyatt was intent on doling out justice. 

—

Glad that Sai decided not to ditch him, Alistair ran with Sai, trusting the man to guide him without letting him trip and get eaten by ‘some sort of alligator man.’ “I hate this town sometimes,” Alistair grumbled as they ran, keen to put as much distance between the two of them and the alligator that was very clumsily chasing after them. “I don’t know what stops alligator men! I know some beasts, not all of them!” Alistair replied with wide eyes. “What do we do? He’s chasing after us!” He hissed, unsure as to where it was that Sai was dragging him. 

“We’re not… killing the alligator, he’s clearly just high and confused!” Alistair was quick to say, having half a mind to turn around and blast the man back. He was weak at other types of magic, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do it. Luckily, he didn’t think that the alligator was close enough to warrant the use of such a spell. A spell that would undoubtedly exhaust him further than he already was after the events of the night.

—

“Well, I think the alligator wants to kill us,” said Sai. “So I don’t think it’s worth losing that much sleep over or anything.” Sai had killed plenty of people who weren’t trying to kill him too. He hardly had a sort of moral high horse about it, and wouldn’t mind if the were-alligator was no longer a problem. If he had any idea how to do that without getting anywhere near its teeth, that was. But it didn’t sound like they were in luck on that front, since Alistair didn’t know anything about the creature either, and wasn’t offering up any silver. 

“But I’m hoping we beat him to my car, and we can drive out of here. Then we live, and probably the alligator man lives too,” Sai told Alistair, since they apparently cared about the wellbeing of the thing trying to eat them. A glance back, and Sai could see the were-alligator stumbling along behind them. As long as the frog didn’t wear off too fast, they could probably out run him. “He’s not doing a great job of keeping up with us now, so I’m pretty sure he can’t outrun my car.” Getting his bearings again, Sai rounded the corner onto the street where he remembered parking his car, yanking Alistair along with him. “It’s just a few more blocks away, I think.”

—

All fours was easier going, considering the way the world tilted and shifted and swam around him. He lumbered after the pair, already having forgotten why he was in pursuit of them if he was honest with himself. But there was a reason he was chasing the strangers, and he wasn’t gonna question it when he felt half-convinced he might float off the earth itself. That wasn’t normal, right? Right. Yeah. They’d… done something. He couldn’t remember the frog anymore, only the bad taste in his mouth. They done something to him. 

The pursuit continued onto a new street and Wyatt struggled to make a tight turn, fumbling over the ground and giving an alarmed hiss as a car horn blared and headlights flashed in his eyes, reflecting reddish orange like hellish beacons in the dark. Vehicle and alligator collided, the former skidding onto the sidewalk while the former bowled through a shopfront like a wrecking ball, glass and splinters and bits of rubble exploding out onto the street. He bellowed angrily, picking himself up again and stepping on the hood of the car he’d run into to see the two people getting into a parked vehicle. The red of their taillights bathed the scene in red for only a few seconds before they were peeling away from the curb and out of the shifter’s reach. Damnit. 

He glanced down at the car beneath him, the driver of which was staring at him in utter terror. “What?!” he yowled. “What’re you fuckin’ lookin’ at?!” Confused, dizzy, and halfways convinced that this car was actually just a big, tasty moose, Wyatt leaned down and grabbed its leg (tire) in his mouth and ripped it free. The person inside screamed (that was weird, did moose eat people?) and Wyatt squinted his eyes closed. This leg didn’t taste very good. He didn’t feel very good. “Gross,” he spat the tire (leg?) back onto the ground and climbed off of the car (moose??) to instead wander back toward his own vehicle. 

The strangers had gotten away. That moose meal was still screaming. His head hurt. The sky looked purplish-green. He wanted to sleep. Ugh.

[doctorstethoscope]

Fluffy February Day 15 || Quality Time

pairing: hotch x reader

wordcount: 722

contains: food consumption, mentions of alcohol

Aaron’s morning routine was 73 minutes long. He woke up, took an 8 minute shower, then spent 11 minutes getting dressed and waking Jack up. While Jack dressed himself, Aaron would make breakfast for all three of you (17 minutes), and you’d eat as a family at the table (22 minutes, but sometimes longer if you or Jack was having a particularly sluggish morning). The three of you would pile into the SUV (6 minutes, or longer if Jack wants to tie his own shoes), drive Jack 9 minutes to his school, and then head into the office. 

Aaron was regimented with his time, yes. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t also generous with it. 

“What do you mean we’re going away for the weekend?” You asked Aaron that night when he produced a mystery go-bag he’d packed for you without your knowledge.

“I mean that the soccer season is over, which means no more 7am Saturday wakeups, and I wanted to commemorate the occasion by being lazy in bed with you all weekend with no distractions. Jack’s spending the weekend with his cousins. We all technically exceeded the FBI’s maximum working hours on the last case, so no one is calling us in. It’s you and me and a big comfy bed above a vineyard,” he insists as he shuts his computer down. 

“When did you have the time to plan this?” You ask, the grin on your face assuring him that you’re not upset. 

“I made the time. You and I need this— some time just us,” he reminds you, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Do you want to see pictures, or do you want to be surprised?” 

The pictures, as it turned out, didn’t do the place justice. It was a small little bed and breakfast, set right up on a vineyard, as Aaron had said. There was a wine bar nestled into the small library off of the library, and your room had a spacious sitting area and a jacuzzi tub that you couldn’t wait to take advantage of. It had taken you a couple of hours to get there, so by the time you arrived all you had the energy for was room service and re-runs. You were determined to make the most of it on the second day.

When you wake up, Aaron’s already awake, his cheek propped up on his elbow as he gazes down at you. 

“Morning,” you mutter. “What time is it?” 

“Quarter past ten,” Aaron whispers back, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“Why’d you let me sleep?” you ask, rousing awake at that. “We missed the vineyard tour.” 

“There’s another one in an hour, hon,” he reminds you. “There’s no rush.”

You’re perplexed by his statement, and get up regardless, changing out of your pajamas and into the casual outfit Aaron’s packed for you. “Do you want to go downstairs, grab a coffee and check out the library?” You ask. 

“Sounds perfect,” he agrees, changing quickly and following you down.

The inn seems to be empty except for you both  and the two owners, so Aaron pulls you into his lap on one of the vintage loveseats in the library after you’ve pulled a copy of Pride and Prejudice off the shelf. Aaron plucks the books from your hands gently, opening it up and reading it softly to you. You can feel the rumble of the words in his chest as he does so, and it’s enough to practically soothe you to sleep. 

“You are too generous to trifle with me,” Aaron reads aloud. “If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged—” 

“Oh, Aaron,” you interrupt. “We should probably get going if we want to make that vineyard tour. I’m so comfortable here though,” you lament. 

“So, let’s skip it. We can get a tour later tonight or tomorrow before we have to leave,” he assures you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“Who are you and what have you done with my perfectly scheduled husband?” You tease. 

He chuckles down at you, shaking his head. “There’s no schedule. Just you and me, that’s what this weekend’s about,” he insists.  “As long as you and I are spending time together, I got what I came for.” 

tagging: @spacecowboyhotch @honeybrowne @angelfxllcm @rousethemouse @infinite-tides @gspenc @anlin2058 @zetasaturno99 @realdirectionx @witheldclouds @sbeno22 @el-vs94 @hausofwhores

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

what's your stance on the "lifted dodge ram truck" phenomenon? personally i am absolutely vitriolic towards most instances of lifted pickup trucks. usually it's some "redneck" compensating and spending his life savings on a kitted out car that in raising becomes even harder to control and takes up even more space on the road. i especially hate when they extend the axles so the car is way wider. your pickup doesn't need child birthing hips 😭

however, any number of these modifications are great for farms and other off-road type deals, as well as hauling large machinery or logs, which is fine! the problem is 99% of these cars i see are pristine shiny no dent metal with 0 signs of actually being used as intended. AND there are 5843759273548495783 of them on the road at any given time.

thoughts? sorry for the rant i'm just fed up at these huge ass pickups taking up the entire small town road that is already so thin that my small car is struggling. please correct me if i made any mistakes here, i'm no expert.

no worries about the rant, i definitely have thoughts haha. i grew up in a rural area, moved to a big city, and then moved back to a rural area, and have encountered every kind of big truck out there.

i think that in a majority of the cases, like you said, the ones i see have clearly never seen a speck of mud and likely never will if the owners have any say. the ones with the shiny intricate suspension, giant rims with tiny tire profiles, perfectly clean and waxed paint and not a scratch or dent to be found. the jeep community calls them mallcrawlers. i really really don’t care for those either, i think everyone is entitled to do what they want to make their car their own, but it’s really hard to see anything other than pure posturing when i see those trucks rolling coal down a sparkling urban street or a peaceful rural or suburban road.

big trucks in general are a problem. i love my old mid century full sized suvs, but the current generation of pickup trucks where the hood is above eye level for many full grown adults let alone kids, those are at best unnecessary and at worst dangerous. when people then jack those up on giant wide suspension, that should be fuckin criminalized with how dangerous that makes them on the road.

now, if it’s lifted but it’s actual practical stuff, with signs that they actually take their car off-road? i have no issue with that at all. got a big tall jeep but it’s got a tent and a legit winch and stuff like that? or it’s clearly a diy off-roader build that’s being used? you’re okay in my book, you clearly actually need it to do that. but mallcrawlers who are just doing it for clout are genuinely driving death traps

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Normal: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: Another lunch with your parents reveals something that’s been locked in your head, but your dad makes you confused and jumbles up the truth. It’s hard enough to focus on a case with a deranged man killing people on the road, you don’t need family drama on top of it.

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

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

x

Back at the station, as soon as Jordan knew what she wanted to say, she put together a press conference so she could get the profile out to others. It's still early in the day, so you're confident that a lot of people will watch this. You head back to the station with Spencer's lunch in hand, and he greets you with a kiss when he sees you.

"Thank you," he smiles.

Jordan is on the TV talking with the press, and everyone in the station is watching her on the news.

"We ask the public to listen very carefully to the following description. Anyone who believes they recognize this individual should call our tip line immediately. We are looking for a white, middle-aged, married father. We believe his wife is blond, approximately forty years old, resembles the victims, and drives a luxury sedan. This individual drives a blue small-model SUV and most likely lives in this area. It is also very possible this individual recently suffered a personal trauma in his life. Again, a white, middle-aged, married father. We believe his wife is blond, approximately forty years old, resembles the victims, and drives a luxury sedan."

Jordan makes sure everyone knows exactly who you're looking for, and not long after the conference is aired, there are reports of another murder. The unsub watched the press conference, and he got pissed so he went and murdered someone to get that anger out.

This time, he went off script. This wasn't a calculated plan. This was out of anger. The unsub killed two young men with multiple shots each. Everyone is gathered to watch, but the local police are doing a good job of keeping them at bay.

The energy coming from the parked car is that of two young men, but there is another floating around everywhere. It's the unsub's. He's unhinged, and his condition is getting worse by the second. This man isn't suffering from multiple personalities or anything like that, but he is suffering from a mental illness.

"Joe Karem and Timothy Calvert. DOA with no wants and no warrants. They work in the area, and detectives are notifying their families," Thea says.

"He used a sawed-off shotgun," you state. "That, coupled with close range, shot it out of the driver's side window and driving a blue SUV. It's our guy, but he went way off script. He's suffering, and it's only a matter of time before he's driving down the road and shooting everyone until he's caught."

"Something triggered him and pissed him off."

"Yeah, the press conference. It aired at two, and this happened at 2:20. He was watching the news."

"A Single witness says the shooter was driving a small blue SUV. They didn't get a plate but noticed it was a middle-aged white guy wearing a tie. His suit jacket was hanging in the back."

"If he drives the speed limit, and taking account into red lights and mid-day traffic, I'd say he came from no more than ten miles away. If he was wearing a suit with a suit jacket in the back, he was coming from work. He works in the area."

"I'm gonna call Garcia," Derek says and walks away from the group.

"You think he's gonna kill again soon, don't you?" Thea asks.

"Yes, and he's done killing surrogates."

"Did you know?" Jordan storms over to Hotch angrily.

"Excuse us." Hotch grabs her arm gently and guides her away from everyone else, but you can still hear them. "This is not the time or the place. Are you gonna do this in front of the press?"

"He killed those people because of something I said!"

"No. When we talk to the public, it's always a possibility. That is part of the job. Tell me now if you can do it or not."

"Damn right, I can do this job."

Jordan is in over her head. She thinks she can handle it but she lets her inexperience get the better of her. She was never prepared for what all JJ had to deal with since JJ couldn't teach her everything in time.

"Good. You're about to give another press conference."

Since the press was already at the scene, it wasn't hard to gather everyone. Jordan, with some help from Hotch, had everything she needed to say to them. You're standing off to the side watching her and studying her behavior.

"We are prepared to release to the public additional information about the individual responsible for the freeway shooting. The individual is a white, forty-five to fifty-five-year-old male of average build. He works in this area. He wears a suit and tie to work, and left work very abruptly shortly after two immediately after watching our earlier statement about him. If anyone has any additional information, please call our anonymous tip line. Thank you." She turns to leave but pauses and turns to the camera again. "One last thing. This individual has committed horrible crimes and must be held to account, but he is a husband and a father. He's violent and troubled, but he must be capable of some degree of mercy and compassion. So, we appeal to him... Do not hurt any more people. Please turn yourself in."

This happened so recently that no one could forget if their coworkers suddenly left without an excuse. Someone called the tip line about their coworker, so you, Derek, and Spencer headed over to the place where the call originated to talk to the caller in person. Jack's a worker at a local office building, and his coworker fits the description Jordan gave perfectly.

"That's funny, when I heard the description in the first press conference, I thought of Norman. I just thought it couldn't be, you know? He's so quiet."

"What does Norman do?"

"He's in charge of the company's travel expenses. This is his desk."

Jack escorts you to Norman's desk, and all of his red angry energy is left behind.

"Does he have access to the company cars?"

"Yeah, the whole fleet."

"What about the first press conference made you think of Norman?" you ask.

"The woman mentioned something about him suffering a tragedy. His daughter died in a car accident. She was run over after she ran out into the street."

"How long ago was this?"

"Six months. I really should have done more to help him." A woman brings Jack a file on Norman. "This is Norman's personnel file."

You take it and file through it until you get to his personal information such as his address.

"Is this address current?"

"It should be."

"Why are there two files?"

"We cross-reference married couples. Norman's wife Vanessa works here, too."

"We need to speak with her."

"She's not here. She just got a promotion, so she took a couple of weeks off."

Your phone rings, and you pick up when you see Hotch calling. Derek is already texting Emily the address since she's with Hotch and Rossi.

"Y/N, we have a high-speed chase at 117th and Pacific. It sounds like our guy."

"Alright, we're closer to that, so we're on our way now."

"Prentiss got the address from Morgan, so we're headed to his house. If he's having a break, he could be on his way there to finish it. We're on our way. Be careful."

"Got it." You hang up. "We need to go." The three of you take off back to the car with you and Derek in the front and Spencer. Norman's anger swirls out of the building which only you can see. "Go straight and make a right at the light up ahead. I can see his energy."

Derek makes a sharp right, and you have to grab onto the handlebar that's attached to the ceiling. Derek is driving fast to catch up to the car chase, and none of you are wearing any seatbelts. With his crazy driving, it's hard for everyone to stay in their seats, causing Spencer to panic. Derek is making sharp turns and weaving in and out of traffic, and you shake your head.

"Spencer, baby, I love you to pieces but you need to calm down. The more you panic, the more I panic, and if we're both panicking, then Derek panics and he can't panic while driving."

"Sorry. Sorry," Spencer chuckles nervously.

"We're just going to put our seatbelts on." You're the only one who does so, and that takes flying out the window off your chest. "Take a left at the next light."

Derek does so, but not a lot of people are seeing a big police SUV barreling their way. You close your eyes tightly because if you don't see it, then it's not really there. Derek makes it through the light without any injury to anyone, and you open your eyes to peek at what's going on.

The police are chatting over the radio, and you can hear someone shooting at them. It sounds like a shotgun, and you can only imagine it's Norman shooting.

"Repeat, shots fired! On the chase now," an officer says.

"He's losing it. Reid, does it look like the chase could be headed to his house?"

Spencer has the map of the area in the backseat. You can tell Derek which direction Norman is going, but Spencer can tell him where he's heading to.

"Uh, yeah, I think so. It almost looks like he's starting to go in a wide circle toward that direction."

"All units, pursuit now headed over Memorial Bridge."

"We're almost there. Turn right at the next light. Memorial Bridge is around the next corner," Spencer says.

Derek approaches the intersection before the bridge, and all three of you see Norman racing in the opposite direction with three police cars behind him.

"Hold on!!" Derek slams on the brakes and does a quick U-turn to chase after everyone. "Are you okay?"

"I'll get back to you on that," you mutter.

"Reid, get on the radio and tell them we're in the chase," Derek says and steps on the gas pedal.

"This is the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit," Spencer says over the radio. "We caught up to the chase and are now monitoring. We ask if you're able to stop the vehicle, you allow us to take the lead in contacting the driver. We believe him to be a severely deranged suspect."

"Copy."

Derek turns the corner and slams on the brakes when he sees the situation unfold. Norman swerves to the left and crashes into the concrete median. His car flips over and lands on the roof, shattering the windshield into pieces. Derek is the first out of the car and Spencer is the second. You take a moment to gather yourself before unbuckling your seat belt. You open the door and step out, and that's when the entire world slows down around you.

Derek yells at the officers not to shoot, but no noise is coming out of his mouth. Norman crawls out of the car in slow motion but you're not looking at him. You can see Norman's family in the car, but they're not moving to get out at all. All three of them (his wife and two kids) look at you before glitching out of existence.

They were never in the car with him even though he thought they were. They're dead and he may not even know it.

The entire world speeds up and returns back to normal, and you raise your gun at Norman like everyone else is doing.

"Norman! Don't move!"

"What are you doing? What are you doing? My family's inside!"

"Stop and listen to me! Listen to me! Nobody is in that car. Your family's gone, Norman."

"No, they're in there."

Norman's pain is great enough for you to feel it from where you're standing, and the tears start to well in your eyes.

"They're gone, Norman! Look inside. Look in the car. They were never there. It's over. They were never with you."

"No, but they were," he says heartbreakingly.

"Your family's gone, Norman."

Norman looks in the car and sees it's empty, and that's when he breaks down crying.

"Oh, god, what did I do? Oh, what did I do to my family? My family! I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

Derek puts his gun away and manages to handcuff Norman, and you lower your gun just as the tears fall from your eyes.

"It's over, Norman. We're gonna get you some help."

You see this kind of thing all the time, but Jordan usually doesn't. She thought she could do this job, but after seeing Norman's family dead in their beds from where he shot them, she decided that this isn't the job for her. The entire ride back home was draining, but as soon as you stepped foot into the BAU, you felt relief.

"Hey, do you guys ever notice how the trip home always seems to go so much faster?" Emily asks.

"That's because the tailwinds are in our favor," Spencer answers.

You look up and see someone standing in the briefing room, and a wide smile breaks out on your face when you recognize her blonde hair.

"JJ's here."

You set your things down and rush over to the briefing room where she's standing by the table holding her son. You gasp happily when you see your Godson in her arms.

"What are you doing here?" Spencer smiles.

"Hello, handsome boy," you grin and gently grab his fist.

"Garcia said you guys were on your way back tonight. I thought you could use a surprise."

"I thought I gave you strict orders to get this place out of your head for a while," Hotch says.

"My bad. I couldn't help myself," Penelope says when she enters with a bottle of milk in her hands. "Here. I heated it up."

"JJ," Derek says and makes his way to the front. "May I?"

"Of course."

JJ hands her son over to Derek who supports his head. He's grinning from ear to ear, and you notice Hotch is even cracking a smile at this.

"Look at that. He smiles," you tease him.

"I just realized with all that we do and see in this room, it never smiles. I wanted at least one good memory to hold on to."

"This is the best memory you could have given us," you grin and hug her.

"There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were." - President Dwight Eisenhower

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