#I’m thinking about just living in my car so c would have less opportunities to pick on me cause she’s also being so fucking mean

[jesssssssssica]

big fish gr63

they say that when you meet the love of your life, time stops. 

that’s true.

i remember the day i met your mother as if it happened only moments ago. i was standing atop the podium (having finished third), smiling as if i were on top of the world when i looked down and saw her. i remember her sporting the most beautiful blue dress that hung to her body as though it were made for her and her only, though it made me anxious that she didn’t like the silver of mercedes and instead that she favourited another team though one thing i did know, was that i was in love.

then as they all say when you meet the love of your life, time stopped. no longer was i hearing the roar of the crowd or the sound of the dutch national anthem, instead all i saw was her and all i could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat hitting my chest a hundred miles a minute. it was as though i had lost all control in my body and mind, my feet moving to leave and head towards the crowds of supporters, all of them still paused. so close and yet so far at the same time.

though they say time stops what they don’t tell you, is that once it does start back up again, it moves twice as fast to catch up, leaving me standing there, alone and hopelessly in love with a person i may never see again.

i tried though, i tried to find her, running as fast as i could to car park trying to catch a glimpse of the light blue of her dress but alas i could not find her, returning to the mercedes garage. 

i guess i didn’t have the energy to hide the glum look on my face as toto soon sits down next to me, hand resting on my shoulder analysing my features and expression before say,

“what’s the matter with you, kid?” 

“i just saw the woman i’m going to marry and i was so close to saying hello... when everything sped up.”

“tough luck but oh well life moves on and you’ll find someone else to wed.” 

i immediately start to shake my head, adamant that she’s the only one for me.

“no but that’s the thing, i don’t think i’ll ever move on and forget her so i’d rather spend the rest of my life looking for her or just die trying no in between.”

“jesus. well let me guess blue dress with y/h/c and y/e/c?”

my expression immediately shifted from melancholy to a look of joy and excitement as the description toto gives me matches up with her.

i nod frantically and repeat the word ‘yes’ over and over again as if it were a prayer.

“i know her, she’s the daughter of one of susie’s friends.”

my mouth splutters out hundreds of questions and get toto just rises from the floor and shrugs.

“don’t waste your time george, focus on the championship rather than some girl you may never see again and besides, she’s out of your league.”

as he walks away, i quickly jump up pacing myself so i can could keep up with his head start.

“what do you mea-”

“what i mean is that you don’t have a plan, your just living life as it comes towards you, i mean look at you, trying to chase some girl you saw for less than a minute? it’s crazy”

i stop and that cause toto to stop after turning around to see what had caused me to stop.

“you say i don’t have a plan but i do! i really do! i’m going to find that girl and marry her and then grow old with her in a house that looks like it’s come alive from a fairy-tale and there is no other path for me!”

toto smiles at my dedication though i don’t spare him a glance, continuing with my life plan.

“i may not know much right now but what i do know is that she is my soulmate and if you just helped me, even the tiniest bit then i would be forever in debt with you though if you don’t help me, then you would have stopped the opportunity of a love story and that’s not fair.”

“i’m not going to give out information without getting something in return george.”

that has me thinking.

“how about we make a deal, every time i get on the podium, then i get a little bit of information about her, that’s it nothing more, nothing less.”

toto takes a breath before nodding causing me to let out a sigh of relief.

we then shake hands and i finally feel as though everything is coming into place.

and from that day on, i worked day and night, finding ways to drive as fast i could, working harder than i ever had in my life, spending hours on the simulator basically becoming a different person and by the time the 2024 season started, i was unrecognisable.

of course, my season wasn’t a clean sheet, having faced some technical and engine difficulties causing me to retire early on. on those days, i would beat myself up the most, having lost the opportunity to learn more about my love, though on those weekends when i would get on the podium, i would wear the widest grin.

she was my motivation, my rock, the only thing that kept me going when the times got rough and because of her, i got six podiums that season and a win, all for her. 

over the season i found out meaningless pieces of information and yet i cherished the information so very dearly. over the season, i learnt a lot but never her name or where on earth i could find her, what i did learn was;

that she loved music

was going to university

favourite animal was an otter

liked watching tv

favourite colour was y/f/c

and that her favourite flower was the daffodil, a flower that would forever be my favourite as well. 

it felt as though ever since the day that time stopped, time was taunting me by going ever so slowly, making me feel as though minutes were hours and days were weeks but if this was gods challenge to see if i was the right one for their angel then i would go to hell and back for her, because i would do anything for her.

then it happened. 

i learnt her name and where i could find her.

toto walks into my room, not bothering to knock, which after many frequent occurrences, i had gotten used to and says, 

“her name is y/n y/l/n and she goes to auburn, although the terms coming to a close soon, so if you want to speak to her, you better go quickly.”

at the time toto came into my room, i was laying down on my bed, scrolling through my instagram, occasionally liking a post and putting a comment, bored out of my mind though by the time toto had finished his sentence, i had sat up, making direct eye contact with the man, acting as if he had cured me of my illness, though i’m sure him giving me the information that would lead me to love of my life is pretty much on par. 

i left the very next day, as soon as the sunday race had ended and the summer break started, saying my goodbyes to everyone, before taking a moment to realise how this was it. this was the start of the beginning. 

i stood outside her door for what felt like hours (when it was really minutes) psyching myself with words of motivation, grasping a bouquet of daffodils in my hand. 

‘she’s on the other side of this door’ i remember myself thinking, taking large breathes of air, trying desperately to ground myself before suddenly knocking my fist against the door.

it creaks open to reveal her. 

her in all her beauty, dressed in white like the angel that she is. if i were a stranger, i would’ve believed that i had died and gone to the gates of heaven, hell i sometimes find myself wondering that to this day. 

her eyes show a sign of confusion, probably from the fact that the man from that one race was turning up at her door, which causes me to chuckle nervously, which then in turn causes her to also laugh, a sound that i have loved ever since that moment, which causes me to speak to my heart’s content.

“yo- you don’t know me, but my name is george russell and i am madly in love with you. i know that may sound crazy and scary, but i have pushed so hard to win for you and to get the chance to talk to you, i’ve been called all the names possible and have heard every insult a person can make but i’m here now and that is all that matters because i know that you’re the only woman for me and that you’re the woman that i’m meant to marry and grow old with. i’ve known that for a while, ever since the day of the race, the one that you attended. i’ve known ever since the moment we made eye contact, me from atop the podium and you in the crowd of people. surely that’s a sign in itself! either way, if i didn’t know before, i definitely known now.”

silence. 

i look at her face and all i can see is sorrow as she utters out the words, 

“i’m sorry.” 

my eyebrows furrow, before i shrug it off and say,

“you don’t need to apologise to me, in fact i feel like the happiest man you'll ever see!”

y/n starts to shake her head, raising her hand onto the door frame, revealing a diamond ring, an engagement ring.

“no i’m sorry”, she starts, face showing nothing but remorse “i... i’m engaged to be wed.” 

time stops again, though this time all i can see is my hands surrounded by blurriness and all i can hear is my heavy breathing, chest moving up and down quicker and quicker as seconds passed. 

it takes me a few seconds to pull myself back into reality, though i continue to avoid eye contact with her, embarrassed beyond compare.

“oh” i utter, cheeks flushed.

“you’re wrong though,” i look up as she says those words, “i do know you, at least by reputation. you’re the george russell from king’s lynn. i’m actually engaged to boy from there, tom danes. i think he was in the year above?”

i try and recall the name tom danes, thinking back to my younger years.

‘oh yes, tom danes.’

tom danes was an averagely normal man, someone that i competed against in my early karting days (someone that i would always beat no matter what). when i think about tom danes, i will always remember how he would always throw a tantrum, whenever anyone apart form him would win, obviously embarrassed at his lack of skill. i guess tom danes was the real winner in the end.

“well, i’m sorry to have bothered but congratulations.” 

i turn around and start walking, unsure where i’m meant to go now, though i can hear the giggles of her roommates, well at least i did until they were shushed up.

i learnt that day that fate has a cruel way of circling around you. after dangling this beautiful woman in front of me and making me work so hard to get to her, i learnt the hard truth that she was now engaged to one of the world’s biggest jerks. 

that wasn’t the only thing i learnt that day, i also learnt that there’s a time when a man needs to fight, and a time when he needs to accept that his destiny is lost, that the ship has sailed, and that only a fool would continue.

the truth is though, i’ve always been a fool.

this is why i turned around and screamed with all my strength,

“y/n y/l/n! i love you! and i am going to marry you!”

because it was true,

i do have to admit that the ways i tried to woo her were a bit out of character for me, what with me sabotaging her teachers powerpoint with a slide confessing my love for her but if her face was anything like i imagined it to be, both horrified yet excited at the same time, then it would be all worth it. 

the next thing i did, took me loads of effort, having to get a plane to fly over her campus, painting a love heart in the air with both of our initials in the middle, making her know that the heart wasn’t just for anyone. 

the final thing i did was something anyone would like, a sea of their favourite flowers, which to her was daffodils. i looked up the symbolism of daffodils and found out they represented new beginnings, which i think is fitting, seeing as she was my new beginning. 

i remember looking at her face when she opened the window, shocked beyond compare and yet so happy, wearing a smile that was as bright as the sun, my sun. 

i never told her that i’d been there for six hours on the off chance she was an early riser, which she wasn’t. 

“daffodils?” she says, her voice raspy. 

“they’re your favourite flower” is my response, being the only words i can put together in that moment. 

“b-but how’d you find so many?”

“i rang every florist nearby, told them that this way the only way i could get my wife to marry me and then here we are.”

i didn’t know it at the time but a tear had fallen from her eye once i had said those words, obviously shocking her to the core that someone would do such a thing for her. 

“you don’t even know me!”

“that’s true, but i have a whole lifetime to learn about you.”

“y/n!” a voice rings out, which causes y/n to snap back into reality and out of the world that consisted of just us. 

“that’s tom, please promise me that you won’t hurt him.” her voice has a tone of urgency obviously desperate to keep things civil no matter what happens. 

i bow my head before saying, “well of course, if that’s what you want, i promise.”

i turn my head slowly to face tom for the first time in decades and see the pissed off looks he bears on his face, storming towards my garden of daffodils.

“russell!” he says, panting in anger.

“tom.” i say back with a calm tone.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing? she’s my girl! mine!”

how very rude of him to objectify an angel when really if anything he was hers, much below her level of beauty and power.

“i didn’t know she belonged to anybody.”

before anything else can happen, tom punches me right in the face though i make no effort to fight back, as i had promised, which in turn causes tom to punch me again.

“stop it!” y/n screams, trying desperately to stop tom, though he doesn’t listen.

“what’s the matter russell? too scared to fight back?”

i just shake my head. 

“i promised i wouldn’t.”

tom just smiles at the opportunity, kicking me in the ass ten times over and though i was the one that got the beating that day, it was tom dane that was the loser in the end. 

“tom!” 

tom stops and faces y/n, watching as she yanks the ring off of her finger and throwing it at him, causing a roar of ‘oooo’s’ and ‘aaahs’ from the crowd. 

“i will never marry you.”  

“what you love this guy or something?”

“why yes. he’s practically a stranger and i prefer him to you,”

tom storms off, though not before giving me another punch to the face for good measure. 

y/n kneels down next to my head and takes a look at my badly bruised face, sighing as she says,

“what do i have to do for you to stop?”

“go out with me.” 

“okay.”

as it turned out, y/n was able to keep her date at the chapel, only with a change in the groom and it all started when time stopped. 

#george russel imagine #f1 imagines #f1 imagine

[iamnotdame]

Doing Too Much, Caring About Too Many People - How I Went From Humble to CEO

Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?

In 2014, I prayed & cried to God for 45 minutes and expressed how passionate I was about helping others. In that prayer, I shared with God that I didn’t know how I could help people, or who I could help, I just knew that I had a dying passion in my heart to pour myself into others.

Less than a year later, God blessed me with an opportunity to fly to New York City to visit a music school… during this visit, I started to think of all of the things right & wrong with music education and made a promise (on video) that, “when I got back to LA, I would show music creatives how to be proper professionals in the music industry…” I spent the rest of my New York trip, which was about 2 additional weeks, sitting in a hotel, dreaming, fantasizing, drawing up ideas & plans on how I could start doing ‘small’ music workshops in LA, introducing aspiring music professionals to what it really takes to be successful in today’s music industry.

This wasn’t an idea to make money. I didn’t do this for notoriety. I did it because I wanted to help. I did it because I felt there was a dire need for it. I wanted to pour my ideas and passion for helping into people. I took this as, “God is showing me where and how I can help”, since this is what I asked him for back in 2014. I took this as a mission, a duty to provide a wholesome service to complete strangers.

My steps moving forward from this point were purely heart-driven and have been up until today, 8 years later.

So, let’s go back to the initial question:

Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?

I requested something from God, he gave it to me, now I have to move forward as a serviceman.

I had to turn my passion into ideas, ideas into a physical concept, a concept into a product, create organizational structure behind this product, define who could benefit from this product, create the actual product, test the product with a particular audience, use the feedback from this audience then make the product live, set dates, create an environment for consumers of this product that provided results, and success, then repeat, scale and expand.

I had to learn how to share my ideas, vision and plan with people I trusted and respected.

I had to consult with my peers and use their feedback, both positive and negative to create sureties within myself.

I needed to gain more confidence.

I needed money.

In 2015, I applied to over 80 jobs and came up empty. I applied to a temp agency and they told me they would call me if something came up. In the meantime, I applied to other A level, B level & C level jobs, with C level jobs paying minimum wage and being the only companies who actually offered me opportunities being that I had spent my entire career in the music industry as a producer, with no current relevant experience to any of the jobs I was applying to. Albertsons called me and offered me a position as a Bagger, starting at $9.75. My pride was like “Hell no”, but I swallowed that pride and quickly accepted the position.

I bagged groceries. Retrieved grocery carts from the parking lot, swept store aisles and cleaned the store bathrooms once/twice a day.

I worked there for 10 days and they fired me, because I questioned a manager for training us to do one thing, and watching them practice another… I was confused, like what was the point in all of this, literally crying because now I’m back at square one, with no money… that’s when the temp agency called me 2 days later with a 60-day Internship at corporate relocation company in Huntington Beach. I quickly accepted, even though one of the requirements was having a car, and I didn’t at the time, but agreed to catch the Bus and never be late. I bought a mountain bike on Craigslist for $150 and rode 5.5 miles to work (one way) every day. I lost 20 lbs riding 11 miles to work and back everyday to this job, and looked at it as a blessing because I was in the best shape of my life.

As I approached the 60-day mark of this Internship, my worries started to re-visit me because this company only offered positions to 5% of their Interns… they offered me a full-time position with a starting salary of $58,000, and of course I accepted. Now I had the financial resources to pour into my ideas, vision and plans to “help others” in music. My plan was to use all of my money to start my music workshops, and I did, to a fault… this new job was HARD and demanded every minute of my time, and did not really allow for extra-curricular activities, especially in the first 6 months. They flew me to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania for a 7 day corporate training, all expenses paid, and what did I do? I used the trip as an opportunity to schedule Music Focus Groups at all of the local Universities in Pittsburgh through Facebook events months prior to going to Pittsburgh.

While all of the other employees who were also flown out to Pittsburgh for training were getting together after training to meet at bars and talk about the job, family and kids, I was taking Ubers to PITT & Duquesne University for Focus Groups I scheduled in their libraries, despite having no idea where the campuses were lol. 3 people showed up… I walked through the campuses and universities interviewing random students, asking them about their thoughts on college, chasing your passion, dropping out of school, dreams, etc, just to make sure I didn’t waste my time there. (I still have all of this footage and have never shared it. One day I will, especially after writing all of this.)

Here I am, in 8-hour corporate training classes, for one of the biggest corporate relocation companies in the world, in Pittsburgh for the first time, drawing up plans for music classes in the notebooks provided for writing notes about our corporate protocol & processes. I’m pretty sure you guys can all tell that I didn’t last long at this job.

I worked the internship from May - July of 2016, accepted the full time position and was officially hired in August of 2016, flew to Pittsburgh in September 2016, and was fired on December 12th/13th of 2016, because my mind was not there at all. I had already completed 2 of my music workshops by this time (September 2016 and November 12th 2016). I was printing copies and music workshop flyers on my jobs corporate printers. One day, they asked me why I printed 120 copies, and of what… smh. I was printing flyers to pass out in LA at all of the local music schools to promote my upcoming music workshops.

They gave me a $4,800 severance check 1 week before Christmas… I told myself that I was going to put the entire check into my new company, Monster Sessions and schedule classes in January, February & April of 2017. If the classes worked, I’d keep going, if they didn’t, I would find another job.

They worked. No one showed up to the January class though, so I moved it to February. 5 students came to the February class, with 2 students saying “this was the best music class I’ve ever been to in my life” and providing me with the ultimate confidence to schedule an even larger class for April 2017.

This April 2017 class shattered all plans and projections with 21 students paying for the class and 16 of them flying/driving to LA to attend. Monster Sessions became an official company by August 2017.

Now I am a “CEO” by default, but I still have the mind of a humble servant of God that just wants to help music creatives.

Now all classes are full, an hour after posting them online. Now it’s real… really real.

I don’t have any income coming in, and I’m not business minded or money driven… but it had to be God, because now I have people offering me hundreds of thousands of dollars to do classes away from Monster Sessions, I have people offering me hundreds of thousands of dollars to expand Monster Sessions, to the point where I stopped doing Monster Sessions classes by the end of 2017.

In September of 2017, a German company paid me $185,000 to stop doing Monster Sessions classes, and to start filming virtual classes for a new dead project called “The Elite Producer”, or something like that. This was a disaster and was not worth any of the money they paid me. All momentum I had built up for Monster Sessions over a year had been halted and never rolled the same, ever. But these type of money opportunities did not stop coming, I just refused to accept any after The Elite Producer.

I now have a large core of loyal students and subscribers who believed in Monster Sessions, aspiring music professionals from all over the world, that I catered to on my hands & knees. I cared about them because I felt they cared about me.

I stopped publicly promoting Monster Sessions and just offered classes to our internal group of students who had already been to workshops and classes. Remember, my vision was small to begin with, so I shifted to helping this small group, instead of expanding, because the unknown was scary.

But Idk. I’m thinking that it was how accessible I was to my students, how much opportunity I provided them for free or for barely any money, how much advice I lended them all, how much I empowered everyone, I started to feel taken advantage of, unappreciated, walked over and stepped on, by the same people I gave my life towards helping. Because of this, I kept coming up with ways to give more, thinking this would make people finally appreciate me. I’d draw up clearer roadmaps for students to reach their ‘goals’ as subscribers to my services, because it didn’t seem like they really understood what it took, even after attending multiple classes… but it all just got worse.

Once again, “taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?”

I am now a teacher.

I provide REAL placement opportunities, but none of the students (with the exception of maybe 2-3, out of hundreds) have the talent or ability to secure them, but people are judging the legitimacy of the company and service on how many placements I secure, not the current state, or lack of talent in the music community and pool of music creatives subscribing to services like mine, that actually deserve REAL opportunities, or my help, advice or time.

… but I committed to this, so I have to do what I asked God for back in 2014.

Now I need help. I need to build a team. Now I’m creating Internship programs with local high schools and universities (USC, UCLA, LMU, LBSU, UCI, etc), while allowing current Monster Sessions students to fly to LA to work for me. Now I have a different responsibility. I have to make sure people who are flying in to help me, are good mentally, physically, financially…

I’m helping students with everything but music, their resumes, with moving to LA, finding apartments, jobs, family counseling, talking them out of depression, out of suicide, offering financial advice, helping them to learn which music gear they should invest in, all while helping them to be music professionals as students of Monster Sessions.

I am fielding partnership opportunities with corporate music companies: AVID, Arturia, Native Instruments, Focusrite, Waves Audio, Ableton and others. I am now friends with Presidents of these companies and music products I used as a kid, because they believe in Monster Sessions, like what??!

I am responsible for all Marketing efforts. Web design. Flyers. Promo. If we set a date for a music class, all seats need to be filled. How, with no marketing budget? Photoshoots, camera equipment, camera angles, picture & video editing… now I need Photoshop & Final Cut, AND I need to learn how to use them, while I’m on 1-2 hour personal phone calls with music students from around the world.

Students in other countries can talk at 3pm their time, which is 4am my time, so I have to schedule Skype calls to teach them how to effectively sell beats online, only for them to totally not listening to anything I said during our 1.5 hour free call, them not see any results, as I predicted, now their depressed and want me to give them advice on how not to take their own life…

Now I have a migraine because I’m thinking about a producer in Switzerland, hoping he doesn’t die because he told me he wanted to.

Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?

Now it’s 2019, and I’ve totally forgotten about, ME. I’m sick. I’m in the hospital twice a month because, I’m overwhelmed but can never show it because, I need to be there for them… the people I asked God to allow me to help back in 2014. I can’t complain because I asked for this.

I made a commitment to “die over this” if I needed to, and I was planning that… I felt like, my honor, integrity and commitment to my prayers is what would carry my “legacy” if I were to drive myself into a grave… but I’m now realizing, that is not at all how any of this works.

Let’s just totally skip 2019, COVID, post-COVID…

Today, September 22, 2022:

Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what should be on my shoulders going forward?

Exploring and discovering what “I” actually want for myself.

My health.

My happiness.

Still honoring my commitment to God, but with all that I’ve endured and experienced, learning how to honor my commitment as a true CEO and Director of a successful company, without the void of feeling like I need to give myself as a sacrifice for the betterment of complete strangers who don’t give a flying frick about ME.

Learning how to be human, and not feeling like I need to be a selfless robot to make God proud.

Learning how to be selfish.

Saying “NO”.

Caring less about what people think.

Finding and walking in the confidence I keep trying to bury.

Embracing my different.

Setting a price for myself and making people pay above and beyond that.

As incomplete as this blog may be, I feel a lot better for not stopping halfway through and publishing 70% of how I feel about the answer to this self-provoked question, “Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?”

Thank you, God, for everything.

I know I will live for many years healthy and well, and I look forward to the next steps that you place in front of me.

Monster Sessions is still the future, and I look forward to it helping THOUSANDS of music creatives who need it, but don’t realize it yet. I also look forward to working with future business partners and creatives.

#life stories #damemonster #who is dame taylor #life of a writer #life of a ceo #quit your job #how i became successful #success story #life lessons #inspiration

[sirensmojo]

"A Man Who Drinks Tea" Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big Fluff & Mushy

{not my gif, credits to its owner}

Summary: Tommy being oh so soft every time you prepare him some hot tea.

*Masterlist*

*Arrow House*

One of your shoulders leant on the frame of the doorstep, your arms crossed on your chest as your eyes were staring towards the lamps of the car coming near you.

It was past nine, which meant it was Tommy coming home. He sometimes would come home past eleven or even twelve, but you knew his “normal” hour for him to come home.

If you were not asleep when he was back, you would always welcome him properly, which meant at the doorstep. Whatever the weather was, you were here.

It was your way of saying that you cared about him, that you missed him, without stepping into his zone.

You knew Tommy needed balance, and he could never find that at work or in his business. You weren’t pretentious enough to say you were bringing him that, but you were the closest thing to balance for him, without a doubt.

Although if you were into your husband’s mind you would know that for him you were not only his balance but also his light and hope. Not that he believed in such thing anymore, but it wasn’t about “believing” in that situation, it was facts, you were hope to him.

Once he got out of the car, a smile drew on your face and you straightened up. “Hey, honey.” You muttered with an enthusiastic tone as he stopped in front of you, dropping his briefcase to the ground to be able to grab your face with both his hands.

This was something you were used to now, whenever he would see you leaning against the front door frame, he would drop anything that was in his hands and rushed to hold your head.

This moment was the first skin contact you and him had each day as he was leaving early in the morning, and that was his favourite one. All-day long he could only see you by closing his eyes, and there you were, sleeping under his lids waiting for him to reach for you.

The picture of your smile and your hair perfectly framing your face was his way out from a too harsh and complicated world. But the thing he liked the most in thinking about you at work was when he was imagining you welcoming him, the twinkling of the stars reflecting in your staring eyes.

He knew, only by looking into them, all of the things he needed to know. All your feelings and the depth of them.

The wrinkles at the corner of his blue eyes alarmed you about the hard day he must have had. Still, it was with nothing but tenderness that he was rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs before he slowly pecked your lips.

His lips were so soft and tasted like whiskey. You loved that liquor, even more on your husband’s lips, but there wasn’t a day his lips tasted any different, there wasn’t a day when he wasn’t drinking.

Since the first time you met to this day, he hasn't stopped drinking, not even less with time. It seems like the more he was reaching his goals, the more whiskey he needed.

Maybe there was a hole somewhere that needed to be filled and he tried to fill it with what he had, or maybe he just never had enough of anything, as he wanted everything? You didn’t have the answer to that question and you probably never will.

“Tea?” You offered him when he pulled away to keep looking at you. You raised your brows, waiting for his answer but you already knew that answer. Of course, he wanted your tea.

This was all he ever took when coming back from work, a hot English tea that you would make from leaves coming straight from the garden.

If you couldn’t stop him from drinking whiskey, you could still fill his tummy with something else than alcohol.

You could glimpse his lips curving to a smile as a curious gleam appeared in his eyes, “How was your day?” His deep voice echoed in your head like a hammer, you missed him so much during the day that every of his few first words to you when coming home would bring shivers down your spine.

“Went to the gin factory, trying other combinations.” You let him know.

He took back his briefcase in one hand, the other around your waist so he could pull you closer.

“Found any?” He raised a brow to you as he entered the house. The maids were here to meet him and before they could say anything, you dismissed them by a single look.

“I’m still working on it.”

No need to say here that in that house you were in charge. Tommy ran the professional part of this family and you ran the personal part.

Organizing dinners with high-society people, socializing and creating connections with them so Tommy could have more opportunities.

Tommy trusted you with his life, he wouldn’t let anyone get close to his business, not even his own brothers and family. Nevertheless, he put you in charge of the Gin Distillery, even got your name on the bottles.

It was true, you were the one that told him about investing in alcohol, but what man listens to his wife in this area? Not many, but your Tommy did, he knew your value and was seeking your judgment when unsure of anything, truly, even business sometimes.

You were a team, you were here for him and he was here for you.

“I got the tea served in your office, my love.” You called him out when seeing him walking towards the living room. “It’s Thursday, you’ll speak at the House Of Commons tomorrow, I thought you would want to read more of that political book you started a few days ago.” You offered him a warm smile while pushing the door of his office.

At this very moment, he could literally come to you and carry you to your bedroom so he could express to you how grateful he was for taking care of him like you did, but he knew he got work to do, and you knew it too.

It wasn’t tonight you’ll try to make a baby.

Once he got behind his desk, you purred him some tea in a cup that you knew to be his favourite.

Tommy took a sip on it directly, even if the hotness of the liquid was burning the tip of his tongue. He closed his lids for some seconds, and you could literally witness his tensed muscles relaxing

You neared his chair and slid your fingers under his coat to make him known you wanted it off. Tom shifted position so you could clear it off. You came hanging his coat before dropping both your hands on his shoulders, beginning to massage the knots under his skin.

Your husband let out a growl, still sipping on that tea of yours before he exhaled deeply.

He mumbled something you couldn’t hear.

“Huh?” You asked, leaning your head to one of his sides.

He turned his chair towards you, his icy blue eyes reached your Y/E/C ones before he put down the cup and pulled onto one of your hands laying on his shoulders. You let out a whimper as you fell on him, butt on his lap and arms around his neck.

“I’m never empty of you, not even for a moment.” His dimples lightened up his face so brightly you could swear you were squinting your eyes, trying to get accustomed to that much light on Tommy’s face.

“Is it my tea, troubling you?” You asked, confused but pleased to meet with your Tommy again.

The tips of your fingers were scratching the back of his neck when you couldn’t resist anymore. This vision of him made your heart bumping into your chest so loudly you thought it wanted to get out, to which you responded by sealing your lips to Tommy’s.

He was holding you tight, the distance between your bodies being nonexistent.

And as you thought, his whiskey flavoured lips eased you instantly, it was like your body knew it was home, with your Shelby.

HUBBY! TOMMY SHELBY TAG: @theamuz ;

TOMMY SHELBY TAG: @captivatedbycillianmurphy ; @theamuz ;

PEAKY BLINDERS TAG: @retromafia ;

(ask me if you want to get in one of the tag lists)

#Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader #husband Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x Reader #Thomas Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders

[wandsandwheezes]

505 | G.W

WARNINGS // SMUT 18+, If you know the song, you know what’s coming. Mutual pining, kissing, a lil sadness, George being a simp, 

I wanted to celebrate me reaching 500 followers (something I legit never saw happening) by writing a fic for you all!! I went back to one of my favourite songs... it seemed pretty fitting. 

ps. please don’t post my work elsewhere, it breaks my heart!!

I'm going back to 505

If it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive

In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side

With your hands between your thighs

505 New Harleston St. The place where it all began, your childhood home. It had been years since George had seen you and every part of him dreaded the thought of you loving someone that wasn't him. It hadn't been easy for him to move on, when every beat of his heart was beating for you. As he turned the ignition of the car and rolled out of his driveway, the destination was set in his mind. Each road and turn was like muscle memory as he set off on the forty-five minute drive in the pouring rain to see you. He prayed you still lived with your parents and that you weren't in the arms of another man. He pictured you in your bed, back arching as you touched yourself to the thought of him. The imagery was sinful, and distracting, so distracting that he had almost veered the poor ford Anglia off the side of the road. He however couldn’t pull himself away from the soft melody that was your moans as they echoed around his brain. 

Only when he was parked outside your house, looking up at your window, which was only dimly lit, did he contemplate driving back home. But he was sure he was meant to be there, after all even if it had taken a Seven hour flight, he had to be there to see you. 

He stepped out of his car, the heavy rain drenching him from head to toe within a few moments. He checked his watch, it was nearly midnight and he hesitated once again. He then noticed the kitchen light flick on. 'it's now or never' he thought, his feet dragging him to your front door, ignoring the doorbell to knock gently on the painted wood. 

The knock on your door caused you to spin around and look at the clock, confused at who would come knocking at this time, you assumed it could only be that your cat, Ernie, had snuck into the neighbour's house again. You quickly walked towards the door, words falling from your lips before you could even process who was in front of you. "I'm so sorry, Mrs Jame- George?" 

Stop and wait a sec

Oh when you look at me like that my darling

What did you expect

The way you looked up at him with a look of pure innocence and love drove him absolutely crazy. An old oversized t-shirt was hanging against your thighs as your eyes went wide with shock. you blinked a couple of times, thinking your mind was playing tricks on you. He didn't disappear, however and something inside of you roared as you darted forward, hand sneaking up to rake your fingers through the hairs at the back of his neck as you pulled him down and into a kiss. You didn't care that his clothes were soaking wet and that the rain was gusting into the house, you had George in front of you and that was the only thought plaguing your mind. 

It was as if all the time you had spent apart had never happened, your body slotting perfectly against his as soon as he had you in his arms again. The kiss you shared was passionate and needy, before you knew it, he had you trapped between him and a wall, making out like teenagers again, your hands frantically pulling off his jacket and letting it fall to the floor. 

"Georgie.. I've missed you." Your eyes were wide, looking up at him innocently and full of passion, it was a look he was obsessed with. The nickname you used for him brought back so many old memories that he knew that he had to have you back and he would do anything in his power to call you his once more. His hands had slipped under the t-shirt to rest against your waist, the feeling of his large hands on your warm skin was familiar and intoxicating. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, my angel, I miss us."

His confession had you weak at the knees. Despite the fact that your break up was messy, the love you shared for each other had never left. Having both gone through the war with each other and gaining trauma that neither of you knew how to process, resulting in more frequent arguments, less affection, more ange and more more resentment until you both decided it was best for the both of you to part ways. Over the years, you had taken the time to heal but George however, grew insecure and lost confidence of his own worth. He didn't know how to move on in life without you by his side. 

That's why kissing him felt so natural, his lips and arms felt like home to you. It was why you were willing to risk it all and take him back. It was also why you were sure you were sure you'd let him fuck you senseless in the hall out of desperation. You were still in love with him and a part of you had truly never stopped loving him, even after all this time. 

I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

Or I did last time I checked

You'd pulled the boy up to your room, stripping him of his damp clothes and admiring every inch of his skin, you had to pinch yourself every time because having him here felt like a dream. As you lay on your bed, your head on his chest, you listen to the in and out of his breath, letting his heartbeat remind you that he was in fact here, and not hundreds of miles away. 

He didn't try to initiate anything you didn't want to do, talking into the early hours about everything you'd done since you'd last seen each other. You confessed that you would take him back if he wanted you. George's eyes went wide at that statement, his breath hitched in his own throat. He took the opportunity to kiss you again, the soft, open mouthed kisses turning quickly to a more passionate exchange as your tongues brushed against each other. He pulled you on top of him so that you were straddling his hips, his hands guiding your own to gently rock back and forth against his. 

You were grinding against him, feeling the desperation for him grow inside you as you were reminded of the mind blowing sex life you used to have, you adored him even as he was fucking you relentlessly, hand wrapped around your neck. You missed being touched the way he touched you. You picked up the pace, causing a string of moans to fall from your lips, it was enough for him to buck his own hips up to meet yours. As if he could hear your thoughts, a hand moved up to grasp at your neck, a smirk plastered across his lips. "Always knew you liked that, Princess."

The string of moans that fell from your lips were pure filth but nevertheless, music to his ears. You were adults, pining over one another, in a situation not too dissimilar from one you had with him as teenagers, sneaking away from your group of friends and up to the dorms. Coincidentally, it was the same day he'd told you he loved you. 

Your mind was flicking back and forth to the present and the past as George's hands trailed gently up your sides. The look in his eyes was pure lust as he pulled you in for another kiss. His kisses were intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from going in for another, and another, and another. 

"We don't have to do this, not if you're not-" You cut him off with a simple kiss, before pressing your lips to his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to his collarbone, slipping between his legs with a content sigh. "I want this George, I want you." 

You had started by palming him through his boxers, watching as his head fell back into the pillow. There was no rush, just gentle, meaningful movements. When you finally pulled his cock from his underwear, his heart sped up, you rested your cheek against his thigh as you stroked him, his hand smoothing over your hair as warm moans fell from his lips. You looked up at him through your lashes, as amazing as George's more dominant side was, to see him completely at your will as his cock was in your hand made you feel so powerful. Your hand was perfect, small enough that when you wrapped your hand fully around, the squeeze was enough for him to feel like he was in heaven, not to mention the way you looked at him. You truly were his angel. 

He had flipped you over before you could even take him in your mouth, he was gentle as he pulled your shirt over your head, kissing every part of skin he could. This moment with you was everything he was waiting for, to be with you, intimate and in love. He slipped your underwear to the side before pushing into you. It felt like everything you could've needed in that moment, he didn't make it rough or push you. He simply made love to you as the sun rose, mumbling words of pure praise against your lips. "You're doing so well, Princess, taking me so, so good."

His fingers found your clit, rubbing circles with his middle and pointer finger as he brought you close to your release. His hair was hanging messily as his hips rocked into yours. "That's it baby, cum for me, such a good girl."

When you came over him, your mind went blank except for the thought of him. It was perfect, he was perfect, he was repeating over and over that he loved you. Godric, did you love him too. 

Not shy of a spark

A knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark

You and George had been back together a whole month before he offered for you to move in with him. You���d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hesitated when he asked. You were worried that perhaps since getting back together things were moving too fast again, but as soon as he’d shown you his beautiful home, all worries seemed to fade. When George bought the house, he imagined what life would be like with you sharing his home - your home together. Everywhere he looked, he imagined what your future children would be doing as they ran around the halls. Everything he seemed to do was with you in mind.

It was one particular evening where you’d come back to your now shared home to find George sat alone on the sofa, all of the lights still turned off. He hadn’t even noticed you enter, he was silently sobbing as tears rolled down his cheeks. Thoughts swimming in his head of not being good enough for you, that he fell short of being everything you needed. He didn’t know how to process these feelings, he hadn’t learned how to cope with the negative thoughts, let alone how to tell himself that they were all bullshit. 

You noticed the tears glistening off his cheeks, lit only by the lamppost outside, quite literally dropping everything, not caring where it fell. You pulled the crying boy into your arms, his head resting against your chest, the salty tears transferring to your t-shirt. Once he had come to his senses, no longer lost in his own bubble, the bubble in his throat prevented him from speaking, hardly able to string a sentence together. You did your best to console him, but the pain in his chest felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest and continued to turn the knife. 

“I-  I know don’t fucking deserve you.” He was babbling over his words as you rocked him, playing with the hair that he had grown out especially for you, pushing the strands out of his eyes and off his forehead. George only managed to calm down by the grace of your soothing hum and gentle kisses into his hair. He still felt the pang of sadness that didn’t want to shift, as a shallow breath rattled around his lungs. “You are enough for me George, I love you and I’ll always love you.”

But I crumble completely when you cry

It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye

You were sitting together on the sofa, your head on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined as you watched a movie, something you’d insisted on bringing into your home together.  You had been feeling overly emotional In the past week, breaking down into tears over nothing. Just yesterday the sight of orange peel made you tear up. You’d told Fred about it today and he simply laughed at the notion that George had ‘made the orange naked’. While Fred found it hilarious, George hated the sight of you crying. Crumbling completely into a mess to care for you at the very sight of a tear. 

Fred and Lee often joked over dinner that George was ‘whipped’. He shrugged off the taunts, retorting back that at least he had a girlfriend. To which the other two boys imitated, un-phased by the younger twin’s attempt at seeming menacing. Lee told you about how they used to call him ‘Whipped Georgie’ back at Hogwarts, a nickname you knew you had heard too often in the quidditch changing rooms. You marvelled at how it was nice to have them all back, but really the group was incomplete without Alicia and Angelina here, you note that you must have them over for dinner soon, or at least another girl’s night.  

More recently, however, you and George had been like passing ships in the night, It was kicking into the busiest time of year at the shop and he more often than not crawled into bed with you in the early hours of the morning, only for you to kiss his forehead goodbye as you left for work only a few hours later. The mornings didn’t get any easier, leaving his warm arms another day, to return to him not being there. You feared he would slip away again, a heavy feeling sitting in your stomach as you wake for your day, to see your boyfriend only just slip through the door. You had greeted him once again with a goodbye, your eyes hanging on to his for a pleading moment, as you considered never leaving his hold again. 

I'm always just about to go and spoil a surprise

Take my hands off of your eyes too soon

George had strolled into the shop, ready for the afternoon and evening rush, his eyes deep set and tired. It was back to sleepless nights for him. Fred noticed the exhaustion in his brother’s eyes, making a quick decision to send him home. They had only just yesterday had the conversation that George had seen almost so little of you that it didn’t even feel like you were together. That feeling broke his heart. 

There were so many thoughts running through his head as he walked home. The usual quick walk was slowed way down as he pondered on every running and passing thought. He was a man filled with worry, what if you had stopped loving him? He couldn’t lose you twice.

He arrived home to you, his precious girl, sat on the bed sobbing, looking down at something in your hands. His whole body ached, seeing the tears physically fall, when you smiled up at him his heart softened, perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He caught a glimpse of the small blue box in your hands and his eyes widened. George Weasley was always shit at keeping secrets. 

His mind told him ‘fuck it’ as he got down on one knee next to you as you were sat on the bed. A thousand ways of saying what he wanted swirled around his brain, he wanted to say the right words and make it a special moment for you. Every moment you had shared together flew past his eyes, it was like watching a star go supernova. Every bright smile and giggle, every kiss and longing look. It was the perfect movie shared between the two of you. 

“I think you already know what I’m about to say, and based on the fact that you’re still crying I hope this isn’t a bad time. But Merlin, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. I want you to be mine forever. I’m sorry that I still haven’t healed and I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me the most. My life is you and if I don’t have you, it’s thunderous and wet and lonely. So, my sunshine, will you marry me?

I'm going back to 505

If it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive

In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side

With your hands between your thighs

...and a smile

The red-haired boy was sitting at his desk, a dim lamp emitting only the faintest glow. Once again his mind was on the thought of you. The thought of you waiting for him at home, His gorgeous wife, her fingers desperately trying to find a release at the thought of him.  He contemplated running home, in a full jog, just to devour you. He flicked back to the day he travelled to 505, how he was so desperate to see you, that he would’ve climbed every mountain just to kiss your perfect lips and see your perfect smile.

George realised that It was never 505 New Harleston St. that kept pulling him back. It was you. You were 505. 

@starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half  @wand3ringr0s3​ @vogueweasley​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #George Weasley #fred and george #george wealsey imagine #george weasley smut #Harry potter #harry potter fic #writing #505 #arctic monkeys

[safertokiss]

Lost in Translation

A/N: Heyyyyy guys...remember when I used to post like every two weeks? Yeesh that’s awkward...but I’m backkkkk woooooooo party time! I was so excited that my discord buddies organized another fic swap because it was so much fun the first time. This time around I was chosen to write a doozy for the wonderful @writing-in-april and I have decided to bless you all with a beautiful subby boy. Sub Spencer lives in my head rent free, no cap. So sit back, relax and pretend it's you getting fricken railed. Peace out girl scouts;)

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: SMUT hehe oh yeah and fluff

Word Count: 4.8k

ENJOY:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

For as long as she could remember, Y/n had always wanted to learn Russian.

So, naturally, when she found out that their newest case involved two lovers who also happened to be Russian criminals trying to escape the United States government, she simply couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity to become more involved in the investigation. 

It’s not that she’d never been on a stakeout for the Bureau before, in fact she’d probably been on so many at this point that she’d lost count. The only difference that this specific stakeout brought to her life was the fact that it was her first one to have ever been shared with Spencer Reid.

Her and the young doctor had lived in the same apartment building since her first day at the BAU, but their relationship pretty much began and ended at that. Of course they greeted each other whenever they passed in the halls of their building and ricocheted off of each other’s theories whenever necessary during their meetings in the round table room, but it would be a lie to label their relationship as anything other than casual acquaintances as well as amicable coworkers. 

She had never been able to fully get a grasp on the elusive Dr. Reid. The fact that he was already such an integral member of the F.B.I. at the ripe age of 25 astounded and, well to be honest, perplexed her. Not that she doubted his abilities or intelligence in any way, quite the opposite really. She admired how utterly brilliant he proved to be day in and day out, even with the shy exterior he presented himself with to the world. Well, shy was definitely more of an understatement. 

She had never met someone more socially awkward in her entire life, but with that being said, she couldn’t help but find it endearing and pretty dang adorable. Y/n constantly found herself enjoying his pathetic attempts at human interaction on a daily basis. From the nervous stutters to the out of this world hand gestures, there was much for her to dissect about the young doctor. And while she could openly admit that he was quite easy on the eyes, in a boyish-innocent kind of way, she had never really been able to see him in that sort of light.

If she thought his normal social interaction skills were entertaining to witness, his reactions to any of the conversations that took a more raunchy turn were to die for. The speed at which his features would ripen red like a tomato whenever anything of a sexual nature was brought up during cases was truly amazing, impressive even. However, unlike the rest of their team, she knew he wasn’t completely innocent. The walls in their apartment were as good as paper when it came to thickness, so it wasn’t that big surprise that the sounds created within them carried fairly well. 

Or at least that was what she had discovered after the first night she heard him touching himself just through her bedroom wall. 

Yes, it was less than ideal that their bedroom walls just happened to be adjacent to each other, but what could she do about it? It wasn’t as though she never sought out her own pleasure while alone in her apartment...although she would bet money that she was much better at withholding her noises. Instead, she learned to adapt to the sounds from next door and continue on with her life, having accepted that guys will in fact be dudes, no matter how innocent and meek they may appear.

When her boss had explained the nature of the assignment to them, there wasn’t anything of significance that had jumped out at her. It was all pretty standard instruction. They would wait, parked, in a government issued SUV overnight at a location close to the whereabouts of the criminals and simply translate their conversations using the mics that were planted prior. While Hotch knew that Y/n herself couldn’t understand Russian, it was common knowledge that the resident genius easily could transcribe the language.

And that was how she found herself cramped next to Spencer Reid in the stagnant vehicle, pen and paper in hand, patiently waiting for the translations to begin. 

It was almost completely silent inside the car, apart from the quiet whirring of the heat coming through the vents, and she could basically feel the nerves coming off of the man next to her in waves. That’s why she was completely thrown off her game when his timid voice was the first to break through the silence that had encompassed the space they inhabited together.

���So um Y/n..h-how have you been recently?”

She did her best to hide the small smirk that started to form on her face from the stuttering mess that spilled out of his mouth. She definitely didn’t want to make him feel even worse about himself so she decided to humour his adorable attempt at conversation with her...well...sort of.

“Oh ya know Reid, just counting the days until I get some action. How about you?” If she  thought he was sputtering nervously before, that was nothing compared to this treasure.

“Oh um well uh I-I mean...I don-I don’t...uh...w-what was the question a-again?”

This time she couldn’t stop the airy chuckle that escaped her lips as she leaned over and patted him gently on his thigh.

“Relax Reid, I’m just fucking around with you. Well for the most part...I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to some action, but that’s a whole can of worms I am not about to open during a stakeout”, Y/n laughed, not at all missing the steadily spreading blush that coated his sharp features.

“Yeah...no..yeah right of course...I t-totally knew you were just um fu-messing with me! Uh we should probably um r-review our assignment...you know just so we’re all s-set before we start.” How adorable.

“Aye-aye captain Reid. Ok so..”, she muttered while fiddling with the listening device to secure the right frequency. “...we just have to wait until they get back so we’re in range of their conversations. That’s when you’ll have your time to shine and prove yourself as the resident genius once again. And I’m sure that you’re aware that I don’t know a lick of the Russian language so I will be the best damn transcriber for you that the world has ever seen”, she finished with a smirk. 

Even Reid chuckled a bit at her words, the ever-present blush slowly creeping back upon his face and neck. 

“I’ll uh-I’ll hold you to that then.” Y/n had to admit she particularly liked to see the boy smiling, especially when it was the result of her own words. His innocence seemed to call out to her like a siren and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Oh-oh there they are! Ok get the pen and paper ready because as soon as they’re in range I’ll start translating.”

Getting themselves situated, they waited the few seconds it took for the couple to get close enough to the vicinity of the SUV for their conversations to begin to be broadcasted through their system.

“Как вы думаете, они идут по нашему следу?”

“Do you think they’re on our trail?”, Spencer easily understands, leaning slightly closer to her so his words were clearly heard.

“Ни за что. У этих глупых американцев нет шансов поймать нас.”

“No way. Those stupid Americans don’t stand a chance at catching us.”

At this point, the couple had already disappeared behind the door at the entrance of their current base, leaving only their words to give the closely listening agents much needed context clues.

“Я когда-нибудь говорил тебе, как сильно мне нравится твоя уверенность?”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your confidence?” 

Even Spencer let himself smile at the chuckle that left Y/n’s lips. “Awww how cute...they’re flirting with each other over mass murder. I strive for that kind of intimacy.”

“Да у тебя есть. Но почему бы тебе не показать мне, насколько тебе это нравится.”

“Yes, you have. But why don’t you show me just how much you love it.”

Uh oh, Y/n thought to herself. Not a second after the untimely thought permeated her brain, the sounds of wet lips sloppily colliding against each other filled the otherwise silent vehicle. After the few seconds of shock wore off, their heads whipped to face each other, eyes wide and mouths wide open. “Huh...well this was certainly an unexpected turn.”

“I uh um-uh well w-what do we do now?”, Tomato Boy nervously sputtered out over the chorus of moans and groans that were currently bouncing off the SUV’s walls. As unexpected as the present situation was, she was absolutely eating up his reaction to the crude sounds.

“Well, Hotch did say he wanted us to take down every single word that was shared between them so...I guess we’re just gonna have to keep moving forward with the translations. You can do that, can’t you Reid?”, she explained, not even attempting to hide the growing smirk on her face.

“Yeah! Yes! Mhmm I can do that, I c-can definitely do t-that.”, he gushed, trying to subtly clear his throat to clear the steadily growing tension in his body.

“Good to hear, Doc.”, she cheekily replied just as the raunchy sounds echoing through the system transitioned to different methods of communication, more legible ones.

“Ты была для меня такой хорошей девочкой. Я думаю, ты заслуживаешь награды.”

Quickly clearing his throat once more, he jumped back into action, with what Y/n noticed was considerably less confidence than before. “You’ve b-been such a good g-girl for me. I think you deserve a r-reward.” Spencer’s voice had noticeably dropped to a whisper by the end of the sentence, forcing Y/n to lean closer to be able to hear his translations, only magnifying the already present tension in the air. 

“Пожалуйста, папа, я сделаю что угодно.”

“P-please daddy.” His voice broke at the end igniting something deep inside Y/n’s being. “I’ll do anything.” In that moment she truly believed he would do anything, his own words or not, based on the obvious strain in his pants that her eyes glanced over, and also by the way his skin completely succumbed to goosebumps as her warm breath caressed the shell of his ear. She didn’t really know what the hell was happening, why her body was absolutely loving the way he gradually leaned into her’s, submitting all of his vulnerabilities into her hands. 

“Тебе это нравится, не так ли, маленькая шлюшка. Как член папы глубоко внутри тебя?”

She watched the way he inhaled a deep breath and released a high-pitched sigh before continuing on, subtly pressing her legs together to control the excitement thrumming through her body at his pathetic tone and mannerisms. 

“You like t-that don’t you, you little-uh-you little s-slut?” From their close proximity, she could clearly make out the speedy heartbeat clambering against his chest as he spoke. And if that was the case, he must’ve been able to feel hers as well. “Like daddy’s c-cock deep inside of y-you?” She could’ve sworn she saw his dick twitch slightly in his pants.

“Маленькая шлюшка уже придет за мной? Тогда умоляйте об этом. Бля, умоляю позволить тебе кончить.”

Y/n certainly did not miss the airy sigh that escaped his lips, watching as a bead of sweat dripped down his temple, confidently guessing it was not from the heat that had been coming through the vents.

“Is the little-little s-slut gonna come for me already? B-beg for it then. Fucking beg f-for me to let you c-come.” Spencer was speedily falling apart at the seams and she was loving it. More than loving it. She was craving it. Craving the little noises that he was trying to stop from escaping his lips. Craving the way he slightly bounced his leg in an attempt to control his arousal, which was futile because it had obviously already reached its full potential in the confines of his khaki slacks. 

“Пожалуйста, папа. Пожалуйста, позволь мне прийти. Мне это надо. Пожалуйста.”

Without even hearing the words translated back to her, she could hear the utter desperation in the girl’s voice. She no longer needed to understand the Russian language to be able to finish the translation, and as she sat there with her thighs tightly pressed together, she knew exactly what it meant.

“Please!” The utter need that was present in the original audio was somehow mirrored perfectly by the young doctor’s breathy voice, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, a prominent vein popping through the skin of his smooth forehead. “Please, p-please, please let me come. I n-need it. Please!”

“Приди за мной, детка.”

Deciding that she could regret her actions in the morning, Y/n quickly grabbed his face before he could translate, angling his head so she could whisper directly into his ear at the same time he spoke the last line of the night.

“Come for me baby.”, they both spoke at the exact same time.

Pulling away as fast as possible, she watched his clamped eyes shoot open as the most obnoxiously loud moan she had ever heard escaped the poor kid, his whole body spasming as a result. And using the large stain on the crotch of his pants as a guide, she was pretty certain she knew what had happened.

For the next few minutes there was silence in the SUV, apart from Spencer’s heavy breathing as he came down of course, leading them to believe the couple had fallen asleep after their...activities. Of course she wanted nothing more than to tease the trembling mess next to her, but she could already tell he was mortified beyond belief because of what happened so she didn’t want to make it any worse for him than it already was. 

After waiting a few extra minutes just to make sure that they had actually gone to sleep, the pair drove away from the stakeout location, Spencer not having said a word since his...big finish. As much as she loved watching him fall apart in front of her, she really didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around her. 

“Well that was certainly an unexpected turn of events for the night, huh?”, she said, lightly chuckling with the intent of lightening his mood. She was very glad to see it had the intended effect.

“Uh y-yeah...you could definitely say that again.”, he mumbled with the ghost of a smile on his plump lips, though she could still clearly make out the blush coating his features.

“So hey, I know that you usually take the metro, but I’d be more than happy to give you a ride home after we drop the SUV off at the office if you want.”, she warmly smiled in his direction without taking her eyes completely off the road.

“Oh um..yeah that would be perfect. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it Reid.”

~~~

The rest of the ride back to the office was pretty much spent in silence, but it was much more comfortable than it had been before, which was a huge relief. After dropping the keys to the SUV in the lock box inside, the two agents piled into Y/n’s car to go back home to their shared building. On their way back she considered just asking him if he wanted to ride with her everyday just to make his life a little easier in the long run.

Once they got to the parking lot and exited the vehicle, they began walking towards the entrance together, the awkward tension from before creeping back into the air around them. Soon enough, they found themselves standing in front of their respective doors, both unsure of how they were supposed to end the night’s interactions. After a few moments of painful silence and eye contact, Y/n was the first one to rip off the band-aid.

“So...I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Reid?” He seemed to be broken out of his trance by the sound of her voice, snapping back to attention.

“Huh? Oh yeah uh yes of course. S-see you tomorrow Y/n. Goodnight.” He scampered into his apartment before she could even get a chance to respond to his bidding.

“Goodnight.”, she whispered to no one other than herself as she unlocked her door and headed inside to shower quickly before diving into her soft sheets.

She was sitting up in her bed, book in hand, with only the small glow of her reading lamp illuminating her room when she heard it. Of course she knew immediately what they were, a talent that had developed and strengthened from living adjacent to a pretty much pubescent boy.

The tell-tale sound of moans and groans vibrating right through her wall.

She knew she probably shouldn’t be listening, something about a violation of privacy or whatever, but she just couldn’t help it. He sounded so desperate it was driving her insane. So much in fact that she was in the process of skimming her own hand downwards when she was interrupted by a certain something from the Doc’s room.

“Y/n! Oh god, please. Please.”

Oh. Oh.

Not even giving herself a second to consider her actions, she was up on her feet basically sprinting to his door, pajamas and all. Not even bothering with knocking, she noticed it was unlocked and let herself in, beelining for what she assumed was his bedroom by the increasing volume as she approached it. Standing in his doorframe, she was utterly mesmerized. There he was, sprawled across his sheets, completely bare with sweat coating his hair as he rapidly pumped his angry, red cock, her name tumbling from his lips like a chant.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” She smirked as she watched his head shoot up to where she was standing, his hand immediately stilling it’s rapid movements. Watching the panic spread on his face was intoxicating to her as she slowly approached his bed.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I uh-I didn’t um...” His words trailed off and his eyes widened as he watched her slowly begin removing her clothes as she moved closer to him. 

“Shhhhhh.” She managed to remove both her shirt and pajama pants in the short trip over to his bed and she had no intention of stopping there. Now standing directly in front of him, she let her eyes wander over his still frame completely, soaking in the amazement in his dark eyes and the slight tremble that was periodically rippling through his body. Maintaining eye contact with him the whole time, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it pool on the floor next to her.

It was honestly shocking his eyes didn’t actually fall onto the floor with how far they bulged out of their sockets, a small moan leaving his mouth. 

She giggled at his enthusiasm before bringing her soft hands up to caress his face gently, his body shuddering at the contact. “Do you want me to keep going baby boy?” Taking a second to process the question that had left her lips, he slowly nodded while looking her in the eyes, his own full of awe. 

Happy with his answer, she reached for the edge of her panties before pushing them down to join the other pieces of clothing already inhabiting his floor. Spencer couldn’t speak. He could barely even breathe. Five minutes ago he had been jerking off to his neighbor, who also happened to be his coworker, and now said neighbor was crawling onto his bed, completely naked, with a wicked smirk on her face.

Straddling his lap, but making sure that there was no actual contact, she reached up to cup his face again, slowly rubbing circles into his defined cheekbone. “Is this ok baby boy? Is this what you want?”, she cooed. 

Spencer looked like he honestly might cry from the pure compassion laced within her words, but still found a way to nervously nod his head in affirmation of her questions. With a warm smile on her face, she leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on his lower jaw before continuing up the side of his face, basking in the small whimpers that fell from his pretty lips. Finally reaching his ear, she let her warm breath tease him before proceeding. 

“Do you want me to take control of you? Is that what you want sweet boy?” While the whine that immediately escaped him was answer enough, she pulled back searching for a more concrete answer to her question. “Hmmmm, you’d like that?” 

“Yes.”, he whispered, nodding his head anxiously. 

While he was answering she had leaned back towards his face, placing soft kisses all over. “As you wish baby boy.”, she whispered, changing course to attack his neck with her eager lips as soon the words left her mouth. Spencer gasped instantly and she couldn’t help but smirk against his pale flesh, increasing the pressure in which she was assaulting his neck.

Through the groans that spilled past his lips, she was able to make out his pathetic attempt at words, not slowing down her lips at all. “J-just make sure not to leave any m-marks. We’ll g-get in trouble at w-work.” Of course Spencer would be the only person on the planet to remember their office guidelines while getting his neck sucked like a vampire.

“No marks...that’ll be difficult. I want everyone to know just how thoroughly I fucked you.”

Feeling extremely satisfied by his enthusiastic response to her vulgar words, she slowly lowered herself down his body, pausing with her mouth right above his groin. Somehow the poor kid already looked completely fucked out and she hadn’t even done anything yet. Hearing him wince as she gently grasped and started stroking his cock, she knew this was gonna be fun.

Staring directly into her eyes, he watched the string of spit leave her mouth and drip directly onto his dick, eyes bulging at her bold actions, still in shock that any of this was actually happening. 

Entranced by the way his chest expanded rapidly as he watched her curiously, she leaned forward and licked the tip, his head falling back onto the pillow behind him. “I’m gonna suck your cock...but only because I want to see if you can not be a spaz about getting head from me.” Her words made Spencer whimper and she smirked as she took him fully into her mouth, soaking in his pretty noises. 

Y/n had only been going for a minute or two when she heard his groans get louder and felt him twitch in her mouth. Pulling off of him with a pop, she hummed at the sight of the completely wrecked boy in front of her, panting and shaking adorably. It wasn’t long before the perfect idea infiltrated her head, her body thrumming with anticipation and excitement.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me. I think you deserve a reward.”, she smirked, reciting the words that they had heard verbatim. Seemingly catching on to what she was pushing for, he responded accordingly.

“Please Y/n. I’ll do anything.”

She quirked her eyebrow in his direction questioningly, slowly grinding her dripping core against his achingly hard cock. “Anything, baby boy?”

Snapping his heated stare directly to her eyes, he cracked a beautiful smile. “Anything.”

She couldn’t control the grin that overtook her lips as she lowered herself down onto his erection, writhing in pleasure at the feel of him inside of her and the sound of his wanton moans. “Good boy.” 

Wanting to give Spencer time to fully adjust and control himself, she started her movements out slow, lifting herself up until only his tip remained inside before dropping down completely into his lap repeatedly. He was a moaning mess on the sheets below her, sweat coating his body along with goosebumps covering every visible expanse of his skin as he panted like a dog. He was so fucking pretty like this. 

Deciding enough was enough, she picked up the pace considerably, bouncing like a mad woman on his dick, while her sharp nails scratched down his creamy, pale chest in front of her, leaving angry, red streaks in their wake. Spencer had devolved into a blubbering mess underneath her and that lit her soul on fire.

“You like that don’t you, you little slut? Like your cock deep inside of me? Huh?” 

Y/n was pretty sure that he was short circuiting below her, his brain cutting off all control over his body as he spasmed uncontrollably and moaned for the entire fucking building to hear. Good, she thought. Let them hear how whipped he was for her. Even though it had only been a few minutes since she increased her speed, she could feel his cock starting to twitch violently inside of her and she knew he was close, really close.

“Is the little slut gonna come for me already?” All he could do was whimper in response, having to nod his head emphatically due to his loss of speech.

“Beg for it then. Fucking beg for me to let you come!” She was on fucking cloud nine right now, floating through the motions, as his whimpers increased in volume and speed. Mustering up all the strength he could, he spit out as many audible words as possible.

“Please! Please, please, please let me come! I need it! Please!” He was crying now, tears rapidly pouring from his eyes and spilling down his cheeks out of sheer desperation and need to release the tension built up within his body.

She was in awe of him. As she watched the tears pour down his face, she couldn’t help but whimper too. Desperately needing to finish, herself, she brought one hand down to make circles around her clit, while the other she brought up to wrap gently around his flushed throat, leaning over to whisper in his ear like she had earlier that night.

“Come for me, baby.”

She once again pulled back to witness his reactions to her hushed words, the outcome only more amazing than before. She watched as his eyes rolled back as far they could possibly go into his head as his mouth dropped open in pure ecstasy, high-pitched whines escaping his lips, his release shooting up into her like it had always belonged there. Maybe it had.

Watching him come undone below her, combined with her hand speedily rubbing circles on her clit, she was catapulted into the most amazing climax of her entire life, her body buzzing with excitement as she tightened around him and collapsed on his chest, weak as could be after that activity.

The pair laid silently, apart from the heaving breaths whirring through the room, still in shock over what had just transpired minutes before. Slowly shifting her eyes to the shivering boy below her, she saw he was caught in a trance, his eyes dazed, a soft grin on his lips. 

Breaking him from his stupor, she gently cupped his cheek with one hand as the other drew lazy circles on his blotchy chest. Rubbing the skin on his face lightly, she leaned forward and kissed his nose, making him scrunch it up and giggle as a result. “Such a sweet boy for me. Such a sweet, sweet boy.” Her words made him melt inside and words tumbled out of his own mouth before he could even think about stopping them.

“Вы красивы внутри и снаружи.”

She looked up at him in shock, before breaking out in giggles. “Did you just serenade me in Russian? How romantic.”, she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

He couldn’t seem to control his giggles either, a fact that warmed her heart. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

Smiling up at the adorable boy she just had to ask. “What does it mean?”

Y/n watched as his signature blush quickly coated his features once again as he looked down at her with a shy smile. “You are beautiful, inside and out.”

With the warmest grin she could muster, she leaned up and kissed his jaw once more before snuggling up against the young doctor who had melted her heart.

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[static-fanatic-1]

Chrollo +PT Part 2 is finally out! I also figured it a name for the son, Akura. Enjoy! 7.7k words and it almost didn’t fit in the post RIP.

| Part 1 | 

~~~

"Eat lead Uvo."

"Already checked off the bucket list (y/n/n)."

God, you hated that nickname. "Don't test me." You growled, glaring back at your little boy with a silent message; 'You're in such deep shit once this is over'. You could see him physically gulp, and it only cemented the fact that despite being a pissy teenager, he was still the same, scared little boy you had taken in after the massacre. You almost teared up.

"Kurapika! Watch the road!" The woman yelped.

The blond swerved off the road, almost knocking you off and onto the dusty path beneath the car. "Kurapika," you began, "watch the road, I'll take care of anyone following us."

You could tell Uvogin wanted to say something, so you quickly dipped out of the passenger window and climbed onto the top of the car. The people in the second car stared at you through the windshield with pure fear in their eyes. You laughed to yourself, they must think you are a Phantom Troupe member. If only they knew.

You stood tall on top of the car roof, spine straight, shoulders back, chin up, you were ready for them to attack. You were ready to fight your old friends. You launched yourself off the roof and onto the second car, landing with your heavy boots and denting the car just as you did before, a little less damage though.

They were chasing you, you could see their forms driving a car with a new found vigor they lacked before. Machi was in front, her pink hair you used to love seemingly a bit darker, like it was drenched in so much blood it stained it darker. You locked eyes with her, and you could see the micro expression of her face. Brows lifting, eyes widening, she couldn't believe it was you. But it was, and you were preparing to take them down.

You flexed your fingers and soaked in the feeling of your terracotta gauntlets, preparing to tear down the entire canyon, but you stopped. A large blanket wrapping around the car they were packed in, though it did little to stop them. You saw them leave before it covered them, it seemed Nobunaga didn't make it in time. You chuckled at that.

Owl, the beast who worked for Jason's father, stood snuggly in front of the Troupe. He and the rest were as good as dead, this you knew, so you took the opportunity and shot out the lion heads on your gauntlets. They snapped as they flew through the crisp night sky and latched onto the sides of the canyon walls. With strength many didn't posses, you pulled harshly onto the chains and pulled down the stone walls. Stone, pieces larger than the car you stood on top of, came crumbling down to the floor, dust flying in the air. Your path was blocked, and hopefully the beasts would distract them long enough for Kurapika and his gang to gain enough distance.

You took a moment to look up, the beautiful night sky full of stars and constellations you couldn't find in the city. The shinning stars reminded you of a time where sitting around a trash fire with the pre-Troupe was normal. It used to be kind, open, and free. Nothing but a blanket of stars above you to lull you to sleep.

And your village, oh how you missed being able to see the night sky as clear as day, untainted by ash and blazing fires. The children playing in the fields and catching fireflies as they tripped on rocks they failed to see. Laughter, warmth, and a sense of homeliness you haven't had in years. You missed it, you craved it, you wanted nothing more than to go back and change something that could have prevented the Kurta massacre.

Your (e/c) orbs soaked in the light of the stars while your hair whipped against your face. As much as you wanted to sit down and cry, letting all the pent up frustration and hatred out, you couldn't show weakness. Not even to the all seeing stars above, or the gentle wind, and especially not to the enemies that will tear you apart.

A ringing knocked you out of your memories, taking you back into a cruel reality you didn't want to partake in. "Yes?" You answered, phone close to your ear as you took one last look at the shinning stars.

It was Jason, his sweet voice filled with worry. "We sent Owl and the rest of the Beasts. What happened?"

You hummed in thought. "A few men caught one of the Troupe members, the most physically powerful. We are on our way back to York New, I would prepare a safe place to store him, if the poison from his body is taken, we are screwed."

"Is he one of the ones you could take down?"

"No, we got lucky. We have to be cautious about this one." You turned back to York New, the shinning city moving closer and closer. "About the Beasts... they are probably all dead by now. The man we are bringing in killed four of them I think, the rest are slowing down about five other members, they don't stand a chance."

"Shit," he breathed through the phone, distant mumbling being heard but nothing being deciphered, "what do you think will happen now?"

"I'm not sure, but the Troupe won't let one of their own be taken like this. They'll be back I'm sure."

"Okay, I trust your judgement. Take care." Jason hung up before you could say anything more.

You hoped nothing bad would happen to him. He was a nice guy.

Soon enough you finally decided to sit down on the roof of the car, the city skyscrapers finally looming above and warning you of the upcoming confrontation you will have to partake in. Uvogin would be a difficult one to deal with, he tended to boast with his headstrong attitude and you were worried about him escaping. And Kurapika... what were you going to do with the boy?

You sighed, the car quickly coming to a stop. Finally, the people under your butt, rushed from inside the car and stared you down. "Who-Who are you?!" Questioned one panicked man, his skin a sun kissed brown and eyes as rich as chocolate.

"A friend." You hopped off the car and in front of the small group. "I am a friend of Kurapika, don't worry, I'm not a Troupe member."

They all seemed to relax a bit, but stayed wary of your strength. Being next to you they could tell you were way beyond their league.

Kurapika emerged from the car and readied himself to contain the one-man-army. One man, with gray hair and markings along his cheeks, scurried over and held the blond back. "Wait, we need to get a room."

"A friend of mine already has one for us, you are to contact your boss and inform him of the situation at hand." You mentioned. "This, surprisingly enough, is the place."

"How can we trust you?" He exclaimed, turning and leaning forward in your face. "You could be one of them! Waiting to kill us!"

"Everybody, please calm down-" began the woman standing beside Kurapika.

"My employer is the son of one of the Ten Dons, Jason Nargal. I contacted him about the situation and I've been staying in touch. Frankly I'm not in the mood to argue with someone of the likes of you, so please, shut your damn mouth before I loose what's left of my temper." You snapped, moving closer to size the man in front of you.

He shrunk back, eyes wide with a fear he has never felt before. "Very well." He turned his attention to Kurapika and the other girl with heavy breathing. "Let's hurry."

~~~

You sat down, your eyes staring at the wall as your mind drifted off. You were worried, pissed, scared, and so much more. Footsteps brought you back to reality, your (e/c) eyes taking in the grey haired man from before. He glanced back before quickly looking away. "You aren't going to interrogate the Troupe member?" He asked.

"No, I have no reason to talk to him, at least not in front of any of you."

He hummed and moved to the desk, taking the phone into his hand and making a call. Time passed before Kurapika and the others emerged from the vaulted room, and your fury returned.

Kurapika could feel it.

"Kurapika, I would like to talk to you. Privately."

He glared at you, his dark eyes gleaming slightly under his contacts, like charcoal in a slow-roasting flame. Was he challenging you? Silently threatening you to let him finish the war he began?

Maybe, but that didn't matter to you. All you wanted was to talk to him about the situation. And the newfound plan you guys would have to make.

Maybe he sensed the lack of hostility you bore. It must have been as he nodded slowly and followed you out into the white hallways. "(Y/n)," he began with caution, "I won't stop. I'm going to finish what I started and you can't do anything about it."

You bit your lip and whipped around, smacking him across his face. "I know that! But warn me next time! I had to leave Akura all alone in a hotel room because you were the only person I could trust! You were reckless when engaging close to so many Troupe members! You could have died if they caught you!" You paused for some breath. "You could have killed everyone!"

Tears began streaming down your cheeks, you hands rubbing your face to help relieve the stress. It didn't help as much as you would have liked it to. "You left Akura alone." You repeated with defeat in your voice. "If they find out where he is... they'll take him from me. I-I can't let-let them take both of you from me."

Finally all the pent up feelings burst through your eyes, fat tears streaming silently down your cheeks. "I ju-just can't. I wouldn't be able-able to live with myself if...."

Kurapika stood frozen, all this new information hitting him at the same time as your cries for help made it all the more confusing. "(Y/n)... it'll be okay." He held you up by your shoulders, leaning down to stare into your tears eyes. "Akura will be okay, you'll be okay, I'll be okay. You and I will take down the Phantom Troupe and we won't have to worry about them anymore."

He stopped for a moment to think about your words. They seemed exact, different than just someone hunting for their eyes. What did you mean by your son would be taken away from you if they knew where he was? Wait, how did you know the name of the Troupe member? And how did he know an old nickname you used to have? "(Y/n). What are you not telling me?"

There was a deafening silence between the two bodies, but enough was said. "Kurapika-"

"Don't lie to me. You know something I don't." A pregnant pause was apparent. "Answer me (y/n), I don't have time to watch you cry."

You looked up, staring into violent eyes gleaming a beautiful blood red. "I'm sorry." You wailed, pulling yourself back into the wall with your hands covering your face. "I'm sorry I never wanted this to happen. I wanted you to run away from this, to have a family, to be happy! I never wanted you to fight my mistakes. I never meant for this to happen.

"I promised myself I would take care of them, I promised myself I would give you the best life you could hope for. I-I promised myself... and-and I failed." You shook your head with your hands hiding your shame, your voice cracking with messy sobs. "I'm sorry for bringing you into this, Kurapika. This wasn't meant to happen...."

He took a step back, you were crying—no—sobbing. Hiccups and sniffles wracked from your hidden face. This has never happened before. You never cried, not even once. He only saw one tear and that was when you found him at the burnt down village.

You were not sad, you were beyond devastated.

"(Y-y/n)... d-don't cry. Just tell me what you know. How did you know his name? How did he know you?"

"I knew them, I met them when I left the village. I would visit. I-I taught them nen because they were struggling out there. I didn't mean for them to attack us, but they did and I tried to stop them, but I was pregnant and-and I killed one. I ran because there was too many. I was selfish, I-I should have fought. I was scared and...." Your strained voice trailed off into a distant whimper.

Kurapika stared at your shriveled form, a look of betrayal etched onto his brows. "You won't stop me. I'm going to kill every single one of them for what they've done and you are going to watch." He stopped his retreat, turning his head to give you one last glance. "I'll take care of everything."

"Kurapika, it's not worth it. Please just leave this to me, let me fix my mistakes! Take Akura and go somewhere safe! Please!"

"Why should I?! You've kept so much from me! You knew them?! You trained them!?! Why should I listen to you— do what you want me to?!"

"They want me! They'll take Akura and kill you! If you're in their way you'll die! I don't want that to happen! Please! Take Akura and get out of here! Let me take care of this so you guys can be safe and happy!

"Let me fix my mistakes... please!"

Kurapika whipped around. "Why would they be after you? Akura?"

You dropped your head in shame, but straightened your back. It was time to regain your lost composure, you couldn't let anyone else see you like this. "The spider is flexible. They-they have a head and legs. Each one can be easily replaced, that is how they work. Their current leader, the spider's head, is-is Akura's father. We-we got along, and-and one thing lead to another and... well, Akura was brought into the world. I tried to hide him, but with him being alone it wouldn't be difficult for them to find him. God, I don't know what I would do if they got their hands on him."

You pathetically gave an airy laugh at your memories. When you gave birth it was loud, like static in your ears, painful, though you barely remember it. Then you heard the beautiful sound of a babies cries. You were beyond happy when you heard his first cries, and it seemed as if all of your problems drifted away for a moment.

But like everything in your life it was short lived, and when you stared up at Kurapika you forced yourself to gather the remaining pieces of your strength and move forward. That is what you had to do, again and again.

"I'm sorry Kurapika, I've failed everyone."

The blond stared at you with bloody eyes, it was your fault? Everything that happened was your fault?! You were supposed to be a guardian, someone to protect the clan, yet you killed everyone?!

"Yeah, you did." He spat, his back now facing you.

"Wait! Kurapika! I-I don't care what happens me! Just please—please take care of Akura!" Your voice was demanding, the first time it had been since you broke down. "He doesn't deserve the life he has, neither do you, please, if anything happens to me, take care of him."

He didn't answer, instead he turned away and marched back to Uvogin's cell.

You prepared yourself for being in front of the wolves, but a ringing from your phone stopped you. "Hello?"

"(Y/n), father wants you to come back, be a body guard since the beasts—are you okay? You seem to be breathing heavily?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine. Just a bit frustrated." You have a long sigh and straightened your back. "Everything seems to be on lockdown over here, they have men coming over in a few minutes. Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Is the Blue Sapphire Hotel good? I can have someone pick you up?"

"No, no, that's not necessary. I'll be there soon."

"Alright, I'll wait in the lobby for you. See you soon."

He hung up and left you to your own devices. You finished fixing yourself up and sauntered over to the last person here, the man with markings under his eyes. "I'm leaving," you started, "my employer wants me to guard them now that the beasts are dead. You'll be fine here right?"

He looked up and nodded. "I'm waiting for another call."

"Alright, call me when they take him and what they look like... just in case." You made sure he understood with another nod before you made your way out of the hotel.

Your dress was slightly dirty, and your feet still bare. You probably looked strange, a woman with disheveled hair, missing shoes, and a dirty formal dress. You received many stares, some because of your intimidating stature, or your exposed cleavage, and some because of your appearance. So you ignored them and kept your head high.

But if you didn't ignore the stares you would have noticed the small group staring at you longer than most. Their suits and wigs might have hidden them from most people, but you would have noticed them right away. Phinks and Nobunaga turned to confront you, but Machi held them back. "Now's not the time, we'll get her after Uvo."

"Tch, fine. Isn't Shal looking into her employer?"

"Mhm." Machi hummed, continuing to their mission at hand; saving Uvogin's reckless ass.

~~~

Uvogin waited for what seemed like a god awful amount of time. Sooner or later they would get him out of this stupid prison. Hopefully sooner rather than later, his ass was beginning to hurt.

As if on que he heard movement, blood splatter, and the creaking of the heavy metal door. "Took you long enough, I'd thought you'd never make it."

Phinks entered with a grin. "Yeah, yeah, had to stop by the vending machine on our way up here."

Uvogin's grin stretched across his face as the rest of them entered and tossed away their disguises. "You wouldn't believe who I met." He chuckled.

Shizuku, with her doe like eyes wondered over to his wound, summoning her Blinky and preparing to take out the venom from his veins. But it was Nobu who spoke up. "(Y/n)." He exclaimed immediately, almost excitedly.

Uvo's grin turned into a playful pout. "Way to ruin it Nobu." 

She simply shrugged and began to remove the poison, as Nubonaga laughed.

Machi 'tsk'ed and moved over to the table's side. "You should hurry up and get out of those cuffs. We're going back to the chapel to figure out a new plan."

Uvo huffed and tore his hands from their bindings. "Fiiiiiine." He groaned, pausing when realizing her words. "A new plan?"

"Yup, Feitan tortured that Owl guy so we already have some of the treasure. Besides, (y/n) could be a problem." Phinks chimed in with a mischievous grin. "You now she's much stronger than before right? You can tell just by passing her."

"Maybe she made a new condition with her nen gauntlets?" Nobunaga chimed in. "Do you think she would do that?"

Phinks hummed. "She never liked the thought of making conditions. She probably just trained to get more powerful, that's more her style."

"Anyway, we should hurry and head out, Chrollo is waiting."

~~~

You marched into the lobby, the crystal chandelier above drenching your body in a warm, ethereal glow. The pearl earrings you wore gleamed like small balls of Fire against the light, it complemented your (h/c) hair.

Jason saw your confident form, his thin lips stretching across his face into a gentle smile. "(Y/n)! I'm glad to see you're alright!" His long legs helped him scale the lobby floor to face you. "We are on the top floor, follow me."

"Who is up there?"

"Everyone from the dinner, they have a lot of questions for you, so be prepared." He lightly chuckled, though it seemed a bit strained.

The both of you entered an elevator with a large mirror on one of the walls. You took out your phone and frowned, still nothing from that grey haired man from earlier, were the people really late? Your mind drifted back to Kurapika, your brows furrowing at his resolution about killing the Troupe.

"You look distracted." Jason commented, his voice heavy with concern.

"Sorry, I just have to make a few calls."

"Oh, with who?"

You glanced over at him with a sly grin. He blushed at it, realizing how nosy he must sound. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's fine, I just need to check up on a few people. My son for sure, I need to make sure he's okay."

"Y-you have a son?" His words were confused and surprised. "I-uh-I didn't know you-you had a son. Um, how old is he?" His smile was lopsided, and nervous. He hoped you didn't think he judged you off of your past relationships.

"He's six, going seven later this month. The twenty-third."

"He sounds like a nice kid, huh?"

You lightly chuckled at the thought of his intellectual nature. "Yeah, he really is a sweet kid. He's so smart too, loves puzzles more than anything. Words searches, sudoko, picture puzzles, he loves any and all of them. Loves reading too, his favorite is Father and I...."

"The father?" Jason inquired.

"Oh, he's out of the picture. He's—he wasn't a nice man."

Jason turned back to the mirror, his eyes tracing over your relaxed features. "I'm sorry to hear that. How is, uh, your son fairing?"

"Akura's his name. He never knew his father, it's just been me and a friend I see as a little brother." The elevator stopped, and it's shiny doors opened to a brightly lit hallway. "I guess we're here."

"Yup, there's plenty of rooms to make a call, but you should probably answer some of my dad's questions first. You might not believe it, but he can be quite impatient." His tone shifted to something brighter, a reflection of the whites of his eyes.

You entered the warm hallway and to the door. Before you could even touch the door knob, it swung open to reveal a cheeky grin from a familiar green eyed man. "Hey there sexy," His cheshire grin shifted to one of disgust when he glanced at his brother. "Jason."

"Jackson! Leave them alone." Exclaimed someone from behind the door. If the deep voice was an indicator, it was defiantly the dad.

"Sure thing." Jackson groaned and ran off into the giant hotel room. Well, more like a house, the place was huge!

"(Y/n), sweetheart, come in!"

Sweetheart? Did Jason's dad just call you sweetheart? You peeked behind the door and yes, it must've been the father as his smile was barely covered by his beard. He was sitting next to Manchile, in which looked extremely entertained with your expression.

"Well, come on in." The broad man giggled as he threw his arms over the back of the couch.

You glanced over to Jason, a deep blush spread across his tanned cheeks. "Sorry about that." He whispered and further apologized through his hazel eyes. "He might be going crazy."

"Well, (y/n), we have a few questions to ask if you don't mind." Manchile began. "Like what the hell happened out there?"

You fully entered the room and sat on one of the plush chairs off to the side. "There isn't much to say, by the time I got there most of the men deployed her already dead."

"How many Troupe members? You said seven right? Or was it five?"

You crossed your legs as Jason sat across from you, his green eyes shinning with curiosity. You paused and counted, there was Franklin, Uvo, Machi, Shizuku, Nobu, Phinks, and Feitan. "There were seven, one was caught, and five chased after us. After that the group I was with got away because of the beasts... and now we are here."

"Did the Troupe member say anything?"

"No, he was admit on keeping his mouth shut." You glanced down at your hands, the phone you bought earlier this week blank. Where was that call? "May I make a call?" You blurted. "It has to do with the captured Troupe member."

Jason's dad shrugged and waved his hand. "Go ahead, put it on speaker so we can listen in." You nodded and made the call. It rang. And rang. And rang. And stopped.

You looked at the number you typed, it was correct so why didn't he answer? The entire room was dead silent, so you tried again.And again. And again.

Each missed call brought a disgusting taste to your tongue. Everyone must have been able to taste it, there was a collective shaky breath between everyone in the room.

"So, what do you think happened?" Jared, Jason's younger brother, asked. "Why aren't they calling?"

You stayed silent for a moment, doing your damndest to make up an excuse, but that wouldn't do any good. "He-He's probably dead. They probably found Uvogin and saved him."

"Uvogin?"

"The Phantom Troupe member we caught." You quickly said.

Manchile sighed and fiddled with his shiny watch. "All the beasts are dead, the treasure was taken, and we lost one of our leads. This night has truly gone to shit."

The father hummed and leaned back in his chair. "We can't leave, it would make us look like cowards."

You glanced over at the two and closed your eyes for a moment to breathe. "I need to make some other calls, is there a room I can step into?"

Jason stood up this time with a nod, and motioned to a room off to the right.

"Thank you." You stepped in, shut the door, and locked it. You let out a shaky sigh, your mind running a mile a minute at the thought of Uvogin being saved. "Akura first, I need to check up of him."

The phone rang a deathly chime, but it was picked up unlike before. "Momma?"

"Hey sweetheart, how are you?"

There was a displeased hum on the other side. "I was asleep, it's almost two a.m Momma. You should be asleep too!" Your little boy seemed too excited to have been sleeping, but knowing him he followed your rules.

"I know, I know. I've just been busy with work that's all...."

Jackson listened through the white door, his head pressed firmly against the wood so he could get a good angle. He chuckled to himself, his youngest brother, Jared, leaning in with a scowl. "We shouldn't be doing this."

Jason scoffed. "We have nothing else better to do, besides we are just helping Jason get his lady. Nothing too bad."

They listened harder through the door, and through the muffled speech they could clearly hear the word sweetheart again. Jared glanced up at his older brother whose face was confronted into a suppressed laugh. Quietly they moved away, and back to the seats before Jason came back with bottles of champagnes and wines.

He almost knew by the look on their faces that his younger brothers were up to something. "What are you doing?" He whisper yelled to them, eyes sharp with suspicion.

"Your girl has a boyfriend." He said, point to the door with an evil grin. "You have never had a chance."

Jason glared at his brothers, glanced at his father, and back to his brothers. "It's rude to listen in on other people's calls!" He snapped again, pouting his lips.

"Just saying."

"It was Jason's idea." Jared quickly commented.

"Hey! You didn't stop me, you're at fault here!"

"No!"

"Boys." The dad stated, bringing them to a stop. "Calm down, it was just useless fun."

"Why am I the only responsible one here?" Jason exclaimed, grabbing a small glass and pouring himself some red wine. "I remember when you used to control these rats, dad, now you've become one of them."

"Dirty old rat to you, squirt." He snapped, petting his beard with his free hand. "Dirty old rat king is more accurate, though."

"King?" Jackson yelped. "Yeah right, you're more like a squabbling peasant, dad."

"And you're a filthy stable worker, shoveling manure and getting the shit kicked out of you by my horses!" The father straightened his back, earning an eye roll from his eldest son. "And I'm no peasant! I'm a king!"

"Then at the very least I'm a knight." Chimed Jason, finally loosing up and getting into the skit. "Fighting the mighty dragon and saving the princess."

Jackson snickered. "But the princess is already betrothed off to another it seems."

Jason stopped and glared at his brother's antics. "She doesn't-she never said she had a boyfriend. She's just talking to her son probably." He huffed and pouted, sitting on one of the love seats and crossing his right leg over the other. "She said she had a friend too, but she thinks of him as a little brother."

"She has a son?" Manchile asked, he was listening in on the conversation the entire time for shits and giggles, if he was a rat he would defiantly be an emperor, he thought.

Jason nodded and took a small sip of his blood red wine. "Yup, sounds sweet too. She really care about him. I think his name is Akura if I'm not mistaken."

"That's a cute name." Butted in the Dad, pouring himself some sparkling champagne. "Sounds almost Kurtish, don't you think Manchile?"

He hummed. "Almost? Not quiet sure, there's a lot of strange names out there."

"Guess so."

All eyes stared at the opening door, your figure drenched in the warm lighting of the room and your sleek black dress hugging your curves like a glove. You still haven't gotten your shoes back on, and instead wondered around without any protection. Maybe you just forgot about it? Maybe you simply didn't care, either way when you walked into the room it quieted down.

"Welcome back." Jackson teased. "You have a son huh? Who's the lucky guy?"

You visibly stiffened and eyed the men in the room. Did they know? No, they couldn't know. There's no way they know, right? "There-"

"Behave yourself Jackson, prying into other people's lives is rude." The father scolded. "Don't pay any mind to him, sweetheart, he never knows when to shut his trap."

"No, it's-its fine. There is no lucky guy, he's long gone by now."

The dad gave a gentle smile. "My wife died a long time ago, I know how it feels." He lightly laughed, though a deep sorrow hung heavy in the air. "I had to take care of these brats on my own for what? Fifteen years maybe?"

"I'm sorry for your loss." You empathized with him, a single parent taking care of their kids is something you knew all too well. Loosing someone you loved, was also something you understood. The difference is you hated the person you loved, and you wanted to move on after you served judgement. You doubted he wanted the same thing. "It's hard taking care of a kid on your own, but three? And one of them being Jackson, I'd go insane."

He laughed, Jackson giving a playful glare. "Damn straight. He's the worst."

Jackson moved closer with a hurt expression. "Seriously? Throwing me under the bus in front of a pretty girl?"

"You're not her type!" Argued Manchile with a booming laugh. "There's no way!"

"Oh come on, I'm everyone's type!" He shuffled to your side and threw his arm over your shoulders. "More so than lover boy over there, eh?"

You couldn't help but smile, oddly enough this group of mafia men felt like family. This was always your problem, you always wanted to trust and care for people, but it always ended poorly. If you started to care for these people, you would loos them just like your past family.

But you couldn't help your nature, so you gave a small chuckle and shook your head. "No way. Defiantly not my type."

He whined and put his weight on you, surprised when you held him up like the child he was acting like. "Come on! I'm lonely and I need a girlfriend!"

Jared scoffed. "You're the one who sleeps with so many women you could be the next Genghis Kahn!"

Jackson blushed and let you go. "That sounds horrible."

"Yeah, it is." Jared finalized, sitting down and propping his gin up with his hand. "Besides, I think Jason called dibs."

Jason's face flushed a deep red when you glanced at him and his eyes flashed with embarrassment. He opened his mouth and quickly shut it.

His family laughed at him. "He's embarrassed! Poor boy has fallen hard if he can't admit it!" Cackled the father. "Interested?"

You rolled your eyes with a sly grin. "That wouldn't be wise, I have a lot of enemies you wouldn't want to deal with."

"Enemies? We're part of the mafia, the top of the mafia at that! We can make sure no one will touch you or your son." The dad mentioned, seems he's taken a real liking to you, and when you glanced at Jason, you could see a glint in his eyes. "Seriously, nothing could hurt you."

"You'd be surprised, money and guns are useless against some people."

Manchile decided to speak up. "Like that Uvogin guy? I sent out a lot of my men to take him down, and even more guns, but now they are dead. Are your enemies like him?"

The dad cocked his head to the side, his smile sinking into a slight frown. "Is the Troupe your enemies?"

You tended up, and their eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"You mentioned before that our best is nothing compared to them, and every time you talk about them there seems to be familiarity in your voice." He leaned forward on his chair, discarding his now empty glass to the side table. "You said you were hunting them down, and your son's name, sounds Kurtish to me. By any chance, are you a Kurta?"

You stayed silent, there was no way you gave him that many hints... right? Did you get so comfortable that they figured it out? Will they kill you? Use you as bait? Your son? "That doesn't matter."

"It does, it means you are probably being hunted. It means you are extremely valuable, your son too if he has your genetics. Besides, if you have information about the Troupe that no one else knows about, your value just increased immensely." He stood up and straightened his open suit jacket. "It's a hobby of mine to research and figure out the value of things, an appraiser if you will. Kurta eyes are an interesting story no doubt, gouged out by the Troupe and resold around the world." He sauntered closer, his bulky form and commanding tone making you feel so small. "What do you want me to with this information?"

"Leave it six feet under where it belongs." You gritted your teeth and took in a deep breath.

"I can arrange that for a price." He paused and you nodded for him to continue. "I want you to tell me what happened, I'm more curious than I am greedy."

You gave a small laugh and crossed your arms against your chest. Your focus shifted to another as you recounted things you wished to forget. "You wouldn't want to hear it."

The dad stared down at you and placed a heavy hand on your shoulder. When you looked into his eyes you saw a stern, yet sympathetic expression. His beard shifted, and his lips curled into a small smile. "Humor me."

You shouldn't trust them as much as you do, but you missed having friends. You missed people... so you spoke forbidden memories. "The Kurta lived on an island away from others, we are usually feared because of our eyes, so we isolated ourselves." You sat down beside Jason and leaned onto your knees. "My father was the leader of the village, and when I took my exam I passed with flying colors."

"Exam?" Jared interrupted.

"Yes, it's something us Kurta's do to get ready for the outside world. I mentioned how people fear our eyes, so the exam is a written test about other places, and a physical type exam. We would leave the village and do a simple task, if we feel strong emotions our eyes would turn red, if it happened once you would fail and have to take it again. It is for safety."

You watched him nod and continued. "I was always good at keeping myself together so when I took the position of guardian, it seemed appropriate that I could leave the village and explore the world. I trained and learned from many people before finding the Troupe... I took pity on them."

You leaned back and sighed. "I taught them nen and befriended them. Years and years of jumping around from my village and the outside world and I found myself falling for one of them."

"Wait," Manchile stopped you. "are you implying your son, Akura, is one of theirs?"

"Their leader... we got close." You let the new information sink in. "They didn't know, I was barely seven weeks pregnant at the time of the attack. My village, my family, slaughtered like lambs. I killed one and ran away. I was terrified and didn't know what else to do.

"I don't know why they did it, but it happened and I've been on the run since. Akura doesn't know, I'm lucky he's never questioned it, but I'm running out of time. If I don't start taking them down I'm worried Akura won't be safe anymore."

"Are they searching for him?" Manchile asked.

"They don't know he exists, but they are crafty."

"Where is he?" The Dad now asked, his brows furrowed in thought.

"A friend was supposed to watch him, he's one of the only people I can trust... but he left to fight the Troupe. Akura is alone in a hotel room not too far from here."

"What do you think we should do?"

"I don't know, whatever you do be careful. I'm not going to stop now either. I'm not quiet sure if you can, but assassins might be your only bet."

Jason worriedly glanced at you, looking for your gaze to share a thought. "Are you okay?" He whispered, you nodded without looking at him.

The dad stepped closer. "What kind of assassins?"

You hummed, Meteor City assassins might be the best. They have similar upbringings so maybe they can garner sympathy? Probably not, but maybe they'll stand a chance. "Assassins from Meteor City are probably your best bet but.... you might need the best of the best if you can afford it."

"You don't mean—?"

You interrupted him with a nod. "They might be strong enough to take some of them out."

Jared yelped and stood up. "Might?! They're the fucking Zoldycks! They can kill anyone!"

"Just to be safe, I genuinely think they are the only ones who stands a chance."

Jason turned back to you with a questioning look. "And you? You can't go out there and fight them! You have a son to take care of!"

Now it was your time to stand, back straight, gaze stern, a look you've dressed yourself in on the regular. "More reason for me to go. I'll meet up with my friend and join you for the next auction. I suggest you stay away from the other mafia dons, if you hire the Zoldycks you can never be too careful."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded with conviction. "Yes... and I'm joining the hunt."

~~~

Chrollo sat down on a large pile of rubble in a broken down church. The moonlight sleeping through the crumbled down ceiling illuminated his pale features and framed his coal black eyes. In his calloused and used hands laid a book that stole his undivided attention, and to his side a small candle with a flickering light.

His ears picked up distant voices, though he didn't care enough to look up. Instead he listened in as the voices neared the building.

"Uvo!" Chimed Shalnark, waving as he covered his playing cards. "How was prison?"

The large man grumbled under his breath and placed his hands on his hips, the few beer cans he had falling to the floor. "Shut it, besides I need you help finding someone."

The blond hummed in question. "Sure."

Pakunoda stopped messing with her nails and stood up. "What happened?" She asked, glancing at the group.

Phinks spoke up before the others could. "(Y/n)'s here. She must be working alongside the mafia."

Shizuku sighed loudly and sat down on a rock. "Who is (y/n) anyway?"

Nobunaga clicked his tongue with a defeated sigh. "We told you on the way here!"

"No you didn't."

"Yes, we did!"

"No you didn't!"

Franklin butted in. "It's not worth it."

Feitan explained. "(Y/n) is Chrollo's old girlfriend."

"Huh?" Exclaimed Shizuku, her doe like eyes gleaming. "You have a girlfriend Boss?"

Chrollo finally decided it was time to look up from the word filled pages of his book. He gave her a smile. "I had one, she ran after the Kurta massacre."

Phinks returned to the conversation. "If she's working with the mafia, she might be a hunter. Shal, you are a hunter right?"

"Yup!" He happily chirped, pulling out his phone and typing away. Uvogin moved over to him and mumbled a few words. Some time passed before Shal exclaimed loudly.

Chrollo glanced at his expectingly, and everyone seemed to hold their breath. "Oh! She's a hunter, and her employer is one of the sons of a don. I was curious so I decided to look into her call history, you know for science, and you wouldn't believe what I found." He paused for dramatic effect. "She made a call to someone in a hotel, not an employer, but a kid!"

"A kid?" Nobu wondered, scathing his mustache with his index finger. He paused, finally realizing what a kid would be doing with a hunter. "Boss, did you and (y/n) ever... uh... you know?"

Chrollo smiled at the thought of you, and he finally closed his book and stood from the rubble. He sauntered over to the entrance of the church, the moonlight bathing him in an ethereal glow. A few minutes passed as he stared at the moon, waiting for Shalnark to give him the location. His other plans could wait, he wanted to meet the kid on the other side of the phone. If that kid is your own, which it seemed likely, he could use it to get you back and keep you with his permanently.

"Found it! Somewhere in the Marina Hotel... the call was sent to room 443 on the fifth floor, west wing."

"Shal, Machi, Paku, I want you to come with me. We are going to collect what is mine." His dark eyes held conviction, and nothing would stop him from getting what is his.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere phantom troupe #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #Yandere chrollo #Yandere platonic Phantom Troupe #Chrollo x reader #kurapika #Chrollo #Uvogin #Pakunoda #Nobunaga #Phinks #franklin #Feitan #Shizuku #Shalnark

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

Hi! Obviously ignore this if I'm asking something too personal, but you've mentioned that you're in the process of converting to judaism and I've been wondering how did you start? I've done a good bit of research and think it's something I'm interested in, but I have no idea what the actual process of conversion looks like, much less where to begin. Obviously feel free to ignore, or send me towards someone else, but thought I'd ask!

Hey no worries, anon! So, I will preface this by being forthcoming and saying I got partway through the conversion process, was forced to move, and ended up in a different part of the country with only one shul nearby whose rabbi (and community) are… very unfriendly to converts. They don’t SAY they are, but a few months of attendance and a handful of meetings with the rabbi with regards to conversion really hammered home that neither my wife nor I felt even remotely comfortable converting here, considering it’s a very personal and often vulnerable process, and wherein you have to actually like… trust and communicate with the rabbi you’re working with. So my conversion, while I still consider it “in progress”, is in an indefinite stall until we can move somewhere else or can reliably get to the next closest shul, which we currently cannot for various reasons.

ANYWAY. I started by doing a lot of research. Mostly I was just looking into… all kinds of religion, including Islam actually, because I missed the community and the structure and the spiritual anchors of my very conservative evangelical christian upbringing, but I didn’t like or want to return to the actual, y’know…. beliefs and tenets of Christianity. I found Judaism and just… the more I read and researched about the beliefs and the general culture of questioning and grappling with things within it, the more I felt like I’d found a people who I could understand, and a religion that understood me and would allow for me to be uncomfortable and question why things are taught certain ways and so forth. Which was one of many things that drove me away from Christianity, as I was not good at the whole “blind faith” thing. (they insist it’s not blind, but if you’re not supposed to question god then… what else IS it?)

At that point we were living in upstate new york, and the nearest reform shul was very small, did not have a permanent rabbi (there was one for a number of local communities that cycled around every few weeks), and really while they were officially reform they seemed to as a community have a practice and beliefs a lot closer to something like reconstructionist or humanist Judaism. I went to shabbat services on fridays there for a few months, and they were very nice but said they were very much not a usual reform congregation and that I should probably actually convert somewhere with a permanent rabbi and that was a bit more traditional, but that in the meantime they were more than happy to have me attend services and events with them. They were very sweet and I did appreciate that opportunity to accustom myself to the general pacing and content of a friday night shabbat service.

At that point we get to the part that you’re actually asking about, and I’m sorry if you’re just like “OH MY GOSH MAGS PLS JUST GET TO THE POINT” which is when we moved back down to Florida and I actually properly started the conversion process with a rabbi! I started out emailing the local shul and saying that I had just moved to the area, I was not Jewish but was interested in possibly converting and had been attending services at a very small shul up north, and is it all right if I attend a few shabbat services while I consider converting? I will say, I have never been told “no please don’t attend” about going to shabbat services, but especially with the world the way it is, and me being new and not knowing anyone in the community or having anyone to vouch for me, I prefer to ask beforehand so that they know to expect someone new who is reaching out and less likely to be a threat.

Anyway after a couple of weeks at that shul, I already loved the people and could tell I would get on pretty well with the rabbi, so I emailed her again about setting up a meeting to discuss converting. We had the meeting, talked about why I wanted to convert, what would be required of me, etc. She got me set up with a book list and some books from the shul library, gave me a reading assignment and asked me to write down any thoughts or questions I had, along with some other things that were kind of reading comprehension stuff, and told me to email her when I had finished so we could have another meeting. She also stipulated that she would have me live and practice through a full year of the Jewish calendar at minimum before she’d declare me ready to go to the mikvah, and we’d meet regularly, I’d do a lot of reading, I needed to attend a beginning hebrew class for adults that would be starting again over the summer, attend services (both weekly and holiday) as much as possible, and engage as much as possible in the community. (I really loved them. I was a soloist in the Purim spiel that year and I had friends and once I’d finished converting and could join the synagogue I’d already been needled to join their tiny choir and it was just a great group of people.)

Aaaand then we had to move due to things outside our control, and I couldn’t attend as often due to being a heck of a drive away (in a car with no A/C, in Florida, in the summer) so I tried to shift over to a closer shul whose rabbi my old rabbi knew, but it was High Holy Days and then he was travelling for some studies and couldn’t start doing anything like conversion until that was all over, and then we had to move again and now we’re here and have a very unfriendly rabbi and congregation, so we don’t attend services right now.

…………all this to say: you’ve done some research and you think you’re interested. Next step is to find the nearest shul that is of the movement you want to convert in, and call or email them and just let the rabbi know where you’re at and ask if you can attend some services respectfully to see if you still feel drawn to Judaism when engaging with it directly. If so, let the rabbi know, set up a meeting, and go from there. It’ll take time, a year at the LEAST and usually longer even if you DON’T have the sort of issues I’m currently having, but if HaShem is calling you home, it’s worth it.

(and if your rabbi requires to you take any classes or what-not, most organizations that run them that require you to pay some kind of fee offer scholarships or reduced tuition if you’re not financially able to enroll in them initially, so be sure to reach out about stuff like that, too.)

#i use ‘calling you home’ specifically bc #one of the books i read talked about how all jewish souls were at sinai at least metaphorically #it’s just some of them weren’t born into jewish families #and that every convert is just a wandering jewish soul coming home #and i really really liked that #talked about it a lot with rabbi T back when things were on track #but that IS what it’s been like from start to finish #it’s felt without reservation like coming home #in a way nothing else in my life ever has #so y’know #jewish stuff #judaism #conversion stuff #sorry that this got so long and rambly #i’ve been having The Feels lately about my stalled conversion #it’s very frustrating and i think I just needed to get it out a bit heh

[deans-baby-momma]

Once In A Lifetime

A/N: Well guys. I guess you can say I fell down a rabbit hole....DEEP down a rabbit hole. And I’m going to blame Walker. LOL I’ve always been a Jensen/Dean girl with Jared/Sam curiosity and after a dream I had a few nights ago, THIS happened.  Now the dream was only the first part of this story, meeting them in a restaurant but them, while writing it took on a life of it’s own and I am not sorry in the least. 

Summary: During your shift as a waitress as a restaurant in Austin, you are surprised to find two of your favorite celebrities in your section. How will that encounter cause you to have a once in a lifetime experience? 

W/C: 11,138 words ( I’m not the least bit sorry)

Y/N: Your Name; Y/E/E: Your employment establishment

Warnings: ogling, fantasies, smut, p in v, fingering, v on v, oral (both giving and receiving), fisting, anal play, cum play, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, squirting, daddy kink, mama kink

"Holy shit," I exclaim before clapping my palm over my mouth as there were three adorable children in the vicinity. "Sorry. My name is Y/N and I'll be your server today," I say as I try to calm down. Jared and Genevieve Padalecki were seated in my zone at Y/E/E. "Can I interest you in some appetizers or some coloring pages and crayons for the kids?"

I can't help but glance around at the five of them. They two boys sporting the longer locks like their dad and the little girl, all dolled up with her light brown hair flowing down over her shoulders. They were three of the six most adorable kids in the world; the other three being the Ackles kids but I had yet to see them in person, only on the computer.  

“We will take some buffalo cauliflower bites and some mozzarella cheese sticks with marinara,” the loveliest voice I’d ever heard spoke. I look toward Genevieve to see her smiling at me, her brown eyes sparkling. 

“And-” I pause to swallow. “-for drinks?”

“Whatever is on tap for Jared, I’ll take a sweet tea with lemon and the kids will have Sprite,” she tells me, the smile on her face unmoving. ‘God she’s gorgeous,’ I think to myself as I write down the orders. ‘Jared is one lucky son of a bitch.’

I grin as I tell them I will be right back with their drinks and head toward the server area. I throw my pad down on the counter and lean against it, my palms flat against the granite. How the fuck am I going to get through serving them? I have had a crush on Genevieve since I watched Wildfire a few years ago. And then when I caught an episode of Supernatural and got a glimpse of Jared, I was in lust, for both of them. 

And now I had to cater to and serve them while being professional and less of a crazy fan. Yea that isn’t going to happen. I know myself too well. I’m going to do or say something that will absolutely humiliate myself in front of the two celebrities I have adored for years. 

Thanks to some tactical breathing exercises while waiting on their food and an internal pep talk, I got through serving the Padalecki family and when they asked for the bill I was a bit saddened that their visit was coming to an end. I knew I’d probably never see them again.

As I printed out their receipt I lamented the fact that the one time I met anyone famous it was at work and I couldn’t ask for an autograph or photo with them. I smiled as I gave them the sales slip and walked away. 

From my post behind the server’s desk I watched as the five of them got up and walked toward the door. Genevieve looked my way and smiled and waved as they left. I returned the gesture and giggled. 

After making sure the coast was clear, I approached their table to collect the payment and take it to the register. What I wasn’t expecting with the cash, was a handwritten note with a phone number on it. 

‘Y/N your service was magnificent. Here’s a little tip for you and a bigger one awaits, if you are interested. (xxx)xxx-xxxx. ~Gen’

Did she really expect me to call her? Was this even her real number? What kind of tip is she referring to anyway? I look at the money in my hand to see that they have paid almost $50 more than their bill! What bigger tip than that could it be?!

I waited until my shift was over and I was in the comfort of my own vehicle before I pulled the piece of paper with the number out of my apron.

Opening the text app with shaky fingers, I typed out the response I had thought of all evening.

Hey. Is this Genevieve Padalecki? It's Y/N from Y/E/E. I was your waitress earlier. 

Almost immediately my phone pings and I see that whomever I texted had responded.

Hey Y/N. Yes, it's me. Glad to see you found my note.

Yea, I did. What I can't figure out is why you left it. Did I do something wrong?

Oh sweetie no! You were the perfect hostess. Sweet, friendly, easy on the eyes ;)

Whoa, was this married woman flirting with me? This famous married woman who had an attractive, sexy, famous as well husband. 

Uh, thanks. 

You caught not only my eye but Jare's as well. We'd like to get to know you better.  Have you already gotten off? From work, I mean. Ha!

Ok, if that isn't flirting then I don't know what is. That was definitely an innuendo, right?

Yes. I'm sitting in my car.

Wanna come over? The kids are in bed. Us adults can talk without interruptions. 

Uh, okay. I'm gonna kinda need your address. I might be a fan but I'm not that kind of fan.

Gen sends me her address, along with the code to get into the gate. I realize they live in the gated community about 45 minutes away. 

I look in the rearview and notice my hair is frizzy and half of it has fallen out of the ponytail it was in. I really didn't want to show up on their doorstep looking like a charity case but then again was I going to pass up the opportunity to get to know two of my favorite celebrities?

If you aren't interested we completely understand.

Gen's message breaks me out of my reverie and I look at it, deciding what the hell.

On my way now. 

We can't wait to see you again Y/N!

I place my phone in the cupholder and start the car up, still in shock that I'm headed to the personal home of Jared and Genevieve Padalecki. 

What universe am I in?!

I get to their house and Genevieve meets me at the door.

"Hey Y/N," she greets me with a smile. "Did you have any trouble getting in the gate?"

"No, it opened right up as soon as I punched in the code." 

Gen is dressed down for the evening. Well, as dressed down as I'm sure famous rich people can  be. She is wearing velour sweat shorts, probably some name brand designer and her t-shirt has the Family Business Brewery logo and name printed on it. 

And here I look like a slob who can't care for herself. I so do not belong here.

"Come on in," Genevieve continues as she opens the door wide. "Jared is in the kitchen making us ladies some drinks."

"Uh, I don't know. I mean, I still have to drive home later."

"Or you could stay," she says as she takes my hand and stands right in front of me. Genevieve is just a couple inches taller than I am so we are practically face to face. 

"Oh."

That's all I can say. It is glaringly obvious now what this visit is. And if I said I wasn't down for it I'd be lying!

Gen smiles as she takes her free hand and reaches behind me, pulling the tie from my hair. I feel the weight of it fall to my shoulders. 

"That's better," she says then turns and pulls me further into the house.

We get to the kitchen and Jared is standing there, dressed down also in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. I can't stop myself as my eyes run down the length of his body.

The t-shirt doesn't do much to hide the breath of his shoulders or the bulk of his pecs,  the arms of the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. As my eyes wander lower, I realize that all the rumors I'd heard about the heft and length of his 'conda were not exaggerated as I can definitely see the outline of it behind the silky material of his shorts.  But what really draws my attention is the definition of his calf muscles; even relaxed they distend from his legs, the skin taut over them.

"Hey. You made it," his voice brings my attention back to his face. "I'm Jared."

"I know," I say sincerely, internally wincing at how nervous I sound. I smile to hide the uneasiness.

"Yea, I kinda figured that out at Y/E/E by your reaction," he chuckles as he hands a glass to his wife.  "Gen wanted a margarita but we have some craft beer in the fridge if that is more your taste. It's really good. Our friends, Jensen and Dee, own a brewery."

"Family Business," I state with a nod. "I've wanted to go check it out but haven't had a chance,  yet."

"Well, maybe we can get you a private tour sometime," he tells me with a wink. "Now, name your poison."

I settle for a Cosmic Cowboy, Jared grabs a Grackle for himself and the three of us make our way to the living room.

Their house is magnificent. There are logs, de-barked, as beams across the ceiling and even the staircase is made of the same type of wood. I'd seen it in a family picture on the internet but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd be inside this home to appreciate the beauty of it.

The Padalecki's and I talk for what seems like hours. We all seem to have so much in common. Eventually I had traded the beer for one of Jared's famous margaritas,  thanks to Gen's suggestion and before I knew it I was on my third one and not feeling any pain.

A smile was glued to my face and I couldn't stop giggling. I was drinking with Jared and Genevieve Padalecki! Who would have ever thought that.

Jared takes the almost empty glass from my hand and laughs at the pout I give him.

"Ok lush," he says with his own deep giggle. "If you get too drunk we can't talk about what we invited you here for."

In my inebriated state, I say words I never in a million years thought I would ever utter. "You want to fuck me."

Jared looks surprised and glances at Genevieve, which causes me to look at her as I realize what I just said.

Can you go from intoxicated to sober in less than 5 seconds? Because I just did!

"Oh my god!" I exclaim. "I'm so sorry. I have no filter when I've been drinking."

I start to fidget and prepare to be thrown out of their house. I am taken aback when Gen smiles and says, "Yes we do."

There is a trail of clothing from the top of the staircase down the hall to where we are now. My body is being held up against the wall as Jared devours my mouth, Gen's lips on my neck and shoulder.

"You are so fucking sexy," she whispers and I whimper into her husband's mouth. "You caught my eye as soon as we walked into Y/E/E this evening. I knew I wanted you and Jared agreed."

"Let's take this into the bedroom," Jared murmurs against my lips and hoists me up by the back of my thighs, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist.

He carries me into the room with Genevieve following closely behind. He lays me back on the bed and hovers over me, his body pressed tightly to mine. I can feel his erection digging into my lower stomach.

"Jared," Gen calls in a sultry, seductive voice. "Share."

Jared pushes up off of me and Gen steps between my open knees. "Let's get these panties off of you," she says and I notice that she has already removed hers plus her bra and is standing at the edge of the bed in all her naked glory.

To say Genevieve Padalecki was beautiful would be an understatement but her nude? Well it just amped up the sexiness by a bajillion. She has no hair on her pussy, shaved (or waxed) clean. Her tits are perfect handfuls with pretty little rosy pink nipples that are erect and hardened. 

She has pulled her soft brown hair up into a makeshift bun and I watch as she reaches forward, her dainty fingers curling into the hem of my plain panties. Thank god I took the time before work to landscape!

She gasps as my equally shaven cunt is exposed as she pulls the garment down my legs and off my feet. 

"Such a pretty little pussy huh Jared?"

Jared comes back into my line of vision and he smiles at me before his eyes trail down to look at my bare body.

"So pretty," he says breathlessly as his hands come up and around his wife, his big hands covering her tits. "Bet it tastes so good. You gonna let Gen eat you out Y/N? Let her taste that sweet box."

I nod and he tsks. "Words Y/N. Use your words little kitten."

I swallow audibly and speak. "Yes. I want Gen to eat my pussy."

Gen smiles as she turns her head and kisses Jared passionately. After a few seconds though he pulls away, and pushes her closer to me. "Get to licking, baby while I open you up."

Gen bends down and I feel her hands on the inside of my thighs close to my center. The first touch of her tongue against my folds has me moaning like a porn star. She doesn't even breach my slit, just licks up the middle and then sucks on my outer lips.  

She moans and I look to see Jared has disappeared, on his knees behind her eating her out as she does the same to me. I can already feel the coil deep inside constricting. This is the most erotic sexual experience I have ever or will ever have!

When Gen does finally lick me open,  she immediately wraps her lips around my clit suckling and flicking the tip with her soft tongue. I feel a finger stroking around my entrance before it enters me. 

"Mmmmm," Gen moans and I open my eyes that I didn't even realize were closed. Jared is back in my line of sight, looking down as he notches his cock at her entrance.

He then places his hands on her hips and drives himself forward, burying inside his wife. Gen moans against my skin and I feel that coil tightening. I don't want to cum just yet so I brace against it, holding my release back.

With Jared's deep hard thrusts Gen's body bounces forward pushing her face closer into my pussy. She trades her finger inside me with her tongue and her thumb is rubbing circles around my clit as she licks my fluttering walls. 

My orgasm is bearing down and I'm beginning to fear I won't be able to hold it back.  

Jared is grunting and groaning behind her,  his eyes fixate on his wife's task of fingering me and licking my clit and labia. 

There is so much pressure between my legs I have to bite my lip to contain the scream that is begging to be released.

"Holy fuck!" Gen exclaims, pulling my attention to her. "Look babe. I have my whole hand inside her."

Jared's eyes travel to the spot and they widen as they take in the view. "Fuck! That is so goddamned hot."

Gen begins a soft thrust with her arm, twisting her wrist and letting her fingers hit my sweet spot. I see stars as I yell out. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Go on Y/N. Cum all over Gen. She wants it."

I let go and the pressure lessens as I feel my walls constrict and liquid squirts out around Gen's hand.

"God that was hot!" They both exclaim simultaneously and laugh.  Gen bends down and begins licking and suckling at my cunt as Jared continues his hard pace.

He slaps her ass twice and then stills,  groaning as I'm sure he is shooting his load inside her. Gen places her forehead on my inner thigh, catching her breath as Jared pulls out and looks down with a smile. 

"Baby you are leaking so much cum it's dripping on the floor."

When Gen moves out of the way, I get my first look at Jared's massive dick. And when I say massive,  I mean massive.  Not only is it ginormous in length but the girth is unbelievable.  How does he keep something that size hidden so well?

His hand is around the still-hard member and he looks at me as he fists up and down. "You ready?"

"Yes," I tell him confidently although inside I am not.

Gen has left the room, gone into their ensuite to clean up I'm sure. "Should we wait?" I ask hesitantly. 

"Nah, she knows I plan to fuck your brains out. She'll rejoin shortly."

“Okay,” I say with a nod and watch as Jared climbs onto the bed, walking on his knees to place himself between my legs. He is still fisting his cock, the mixture of his and his wife’s release lubricating the movement. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks tentatively and I look up at him. He has one palm on the mattress beside my head and is hovering over me, but not touching.

I nod and then with a quirk of his eyebrow I remember his request, to use words. “Yes. Please kiss me Jared.”

Jared leans down and brushes his lips against mine softly but firmly. When his tongue touches the seam of my mouth, I open for him allowing him to lick into me. The kiss quickly becomes deeper, more passionate. My hands automatically reach up and my fingers entwine in the long locks on his head, pulling him closer.

Losing his balance, Jared falls on top of me, his hand that was holding him up, cupping the side of my face as we both get lost in the kiss. I can feel his moist, damp dick on my stomach and it causes me to writhe. God, I so desperately want that monster inside me!

The bed dips with Gen’s return and her hands run over the part of my skin that is visible under Jared’s large form. 

“You two look so fucking hot together,” she whispers as she kisses along my neck. “Y/N, you going to let Jared fuck you? Feel that big dick of his filling up that perfect little pussy?”

I can’t answer her because Jared is still kissing me senseless so I whimper and dig my fingers into his scalp. Her words are music to my ears, the assurance and suggestion  of what all he is planning to do to me all the encouragement I need. She is okay with me fucking Jared; she is actually urging it. I pull away, opening my eyes to see his hazel ones, lidded and filled with lust. 

“Fuck me Jared,” I say and he smiles as he lifts himself and grabs his dick, notching it at my entrance. 

“Ready baby?”

I nod and smile before saying, “More than ready.”

The stretch of my walls around his dick is a pleasured pain. It feels so good as he keeps sliding deeper in until it feels as if his tip is going to puncture through my cervix. I look down between us to see that he is to the root inside me and it makes me wetter, if that’s even possible. 

Gen pinches my chin between her thumb and fingers and turns my head to look at her. “Y/N, Jared is going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly. 

Gen claims my lips with her own as Jared slowly and torturously pulls out until just the head of his dick is inside me. I feel his hands grip my hips and then he plunges into me in one swift movement. I can’t help but cry into her mouth as he sits the same fast hard pace as he had with her, his dick stretching my pussy and digging in deep.

I pull away from Gen’s mouth to yell. “HOLY SHIT! OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!”

“Yea, you like that don’t ya?” Jared pants as he keeps thrusting into my willing body. “You like being impaled on my big dick huh?”

“Yes! Yes! YES!”

Gen reaches between us and uses her fingertip to rub circles on my clit, making that coil deep inside me tighten. I am going to be cumming any minute now, I know it. I can’t hold it back even if I tried.

“You going to let Jared fill you up. Pump you full of his cum until you’re leaking like I was? Yea, you are, aren’t you? You want to feel him throbbing and shooting his load into your womb.”

Her words make my eyes roll into the back of my head and I scream as I feel my climax bearing down. Without any more prompting from either of them, I once again feel that pressure from earlier and before I know it I am squirting out around Jared’s dick, my release splashing against his thighs.

“Fuck!” he exclaims as he ramps up his efforts and suddenly I feel the warmth of his cum and the throb of his length as he empties inside me, his grunts and groans barely heard over the blood pumping through my ears. 

Jared claims my mouth again, his cock still buried deep in my pussy as it softens. 

I just fucked this man while his wife watched, after having her way with me. Whose life is this?!

My eyes slowly open as I come to consciousness. I am hot, sweaty and uncomfortable and the need to pee is overwhelming. I go to roll over but am met with resistance, from both behind and in front of me.  What the hell?

I fully open my eyes and take in the view. That is not my ceiling and this is not my bed. My mattress has never been this soft, even when it was new.  I look down and see the ivory sheets and the maroon comforter and it all comes back to me. 

I fucked Jared AND Genevieve Padalecki! I am in their bed, in their house snuggled up between them.  I had sex with a married couple; not once, not twice but three times they fucked the daylights out of me. And I enjoyed every second of it.

I squirm as I feel something moving inside me, slowly making its way out of my body and sigh when I feel a clump of Jared’s cum slide out and down my ass, landing on the sheet under me. God, he cummed so hard and so much last night, filling both me and Gen up. 

And as good as it felt, it tasted even better. Especially out of Gen’s pussy. I had licked it right up as it poured out of her hole and onto my lips and tongue and she reciprocated before we teamed up and took turns swallowing him down, his palms cupping the back of our heads as we knelt in front of him, licking and sucking his cock.

My bladder takes me out of my reminiscence as the urge to piss becomes palpable and I wiggle and shift until I am out from under Jared’s arm and go to crawl over Gen’s sleeping form, unintentionally waking her.

“Hey sweetie. Where are you going?” she asks sleepily and the torpor in her voice is sexy and sensuous. 

“I gotta pee,” I tell her and she smiles before lifting her head to kiss me. 

“Ok baby. Hurry back.”

I walk into the ensuite and quickly sit on the toilet to do my business, still reeling from the events of last night. How the hell did I end up here? And how am I going to recover from having my dreams come true? How am I supposed to go back to my normal, boring existence after such an experience?

As I finish up and wash my hands, I decide that I’m going to leave while the leaving is good. What if they regret it? What if it wasn’t what they expected? What if I was just a first choice when they decided to have a threesome? Too many what if’s and not enough answers for my taste.

I tiptoe back into their room and grab my panties from the floor, pulling them on when I realize the rest of my clothing is thrown throughout the hallway. Shit! If the kids were up and strolling around the house they would see the waitress from the restaurant in their house half naked. 

“Y/N?” Gen’s voice causes me to turn my head to see her up on one elbow looking at me confused. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Y-yea. I think that would be best, don’t you?”

“Hell no. Get your perky little ass back in the bed,” she said authoritatively. “And take off those panties. I want to be able to touch you and caress you.”

I do as she says and she scoots closer to her husband as she pats the mattress in front of her. I climb in beside her and she promptly pulls me to her, her hand cupping my sex as she kisses along my ear. She whispers, “I’m never going to get tired of this pretty little pussy,” as she begins drawing circles on my clit and running her fingers down my folds. "Could eat it everyday and never get enough.”

I whimper at her words and she smiles against my skin. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me eating you out everyday, fucking you with my tongue, my fingers, my fist. Shit, I’m getting wet just thinking about it.” 

Her fingers tease my opening before two of them slide inside, curling up to hit that sweet spot. My back arches off the bed as I moan. “Yea, you like that don’t you. You like me fingering you.” She scissors her digits open and closed as we both groan at the slick that has accumulated. 

“Cum baby,” she urges. “Come on Mama’s hand.”

My climax comes out of nowhere as Gen sits up, propping her body with her free hand as he other works me furiously through my release. I watch her with bated breath as she removes her hand and licks her fingers clean. “Mmm, tasty.”

When she is done, she leans down and kisses me, her tongue prodding into my open lips, letting me taste the sweetness of my tang on it. I run my fingers through her hair, fisting them. 

“Jesus, what a sight to wake up to,” we hear Jared’s groggy voice and pull apart, looking at him. His hazel eyes are sparkling and there is a smug grin on his lips. “I could get used to this.”  Gen turns and kisses him just as passionately as we had just kissed and I hear Jared groan, knowing he is tasting the remnants of my release. 

Ok, so maybe this wasn’t something they regretted. This was what they both wanted and still want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it too. Maybe I had been the first opportunity they’d come across when they decided to have a threesome but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I would gladly take whatever they wanted to give. 

And from the sounds and sights coming from the bed beside me, I was about to have another out of this world sexual escapade with two of the hottest people on the planet. 

I’m sitting in the kitchen at the bar in my panties and a t-shirt Gen gave me drinking a cup of coffee and watching Jared move about the kitchen, cooking eggs and making toast.

A pair of slender arms wrap around me from behind, startling me. “Morning baby,” Gen purrs as she kisses my shoulder.

I tense up afraid of getting caught if one of their kids walk in. “Uh, where’re the kids?”

“It’s Wednesday. They always have a playdate with the Ackles kids on Wednesday,” Gen says as she comes around and sits beside me. “We’re good. Francine took them over and will bring them back this afternoon.”

“Oh. Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry about being found out but I’m also nervous because the three of us are alone in the house. What exactly did they have planned? 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Jared says as he sits two plates of eggs, toast and jam in front of his wife and myself. “We all need to talk anyway. And the kids do not need to hear what we have to discuss.”

Well, there goes my good feeling down the drain. Now is when they are going to drop the bomb; tell me that it was all fun and games but they’ve satisfied their curiosity and I’m on my own. God, how can I be so dumb. What made me think that two celebrities would want me to stick around?

I push the food around on my plate as I try to come up with a way to take the blow and leave with my head held high.

“Jared Tristan,” Gen admonishes. “Look what you’ve done. You went and made her feel bad. Honey,” she says as she places a hand on mine. “It’s not bad; what we want to talk about. I promise.” She leans over and places a chaste kiss to my lips. “Now eat up so we can get to it. I think you might need your energy if I’m reading this situation correctly.”

I try my best to eat as much of the food as I can with my stomach still in knots and my anxiety level through the roof. Gen clears her plate and then looks at me, silently asking if I’m finished. I nod and clear my throat. “Yes, thank you.”  

Jared grabs my hand and pulls me off the stool, dragging me toward the living room once again. Last night, this is the same exact place that they propositioned me and invited me into their bed. Now, here we are again, apparently discussing something new.

I wait with bated breath as Gen makes her way into the room, carrying her and my coffee cups, sitting mine on the table in front of me.

“First off,” she begins as she turns to look at me, one leg under her bottom. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Wh-what?” I ask in shock. Was she actually asking if I enjoyed having sex with them?

“Did you have a good time? With us?”

“Duh,” I answer cringing at my snarkiness. “Yes, I enjoyed it and I had an amazing time. And I understand if this was a one-off; something you wanted out of your systems. I get it. And I promise not to speak a word of it to anyone.”

Jared chuckles and Gen throws her head back, laughing. “Oh honey. I don’t care about that. Hell, scream it from the rooftops for all I care. We want to know if you’d like to continue.”

To say I am floored is an understatement. They are actually asking if I want to keep having sex with them? Have I died and gone to Heaven?

“Really?” I gasp. I never in a million years would have ever thought this was what we needed to discuss.

“Yes, really,” Jared tells me from the armchair. “We understand if it is too much. We, uh-” he pauses to rub the back of his neck and chuckle. “-got a little enthusiastic last night. It’s usually not that acrobatic. But yea, we want to know if you want to keep this going.”

I nod as my brows furrow and I look down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of Gen’s shirt. How can I answer without sounding too enthusiastic or overly eager?

“Sweetie?” Gen asks, leaning down to look into my eyes. “Are you okay? Is it too much?” 

The worry in her voice is what gets me. Is she actually afraid I am going to turn them down? But I have to know something first.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why me? I mean, was I just the first girl you came across once you decided to have a threesome?”

Gen and Jared both chuckle. “No baby,” Gen assures me. “This isn’t our first time doing this. We’ve had threesomes before. We, uh- should we tell her Jare?”

“She’ll find out eventually,” he answers his wife. “Go on.”

“We had a relationship with Jared’s co-star Jensen for a few months. It went really well but then we decided to end it, amicably before we all got married. He was dating Danneel but she was living in LA while he was up in Vancouver with us. And well, we fucked. Not Jare and Jen, they just uh, shared me. Although they did get close to kissing once in a competition to see who could get me off first by eating me out simultaneously.” She ends with a laugh and I look over to see Jared blushing.

“Now, that...that cannot and should not be repeated,” he says, clearing his throat. “We just got too close and our tongues touched that’s all.” He explained my unanswered inquiry.

“So, this isn’t your first time having a threesome with another guy?” I ask. “But is it a first with another girl?”

“Yes,” they both answer resolutely. “You are our first female conquest.” Gen finishes before she laces her fingers with mine. “When I saw you yesterday at Y/E/E, I liked you immediately. Even though I could tell you knew who we were you kept it professional and when I asked Jared what he thought about you, I could tell by the way he looked at you he wanted you. We both did. That’s why I left my number. Figured it’d be safer to leave mine than his in case someone else found the note.”

“It’s in my car,” I smiled at her. “I wasn’t about to throw it away.”

“See, you knew. You might have not realized you knew, but you knew me leaving you my number was a big risk.”

“So?” Jared asks as both Gen and I turn to look at him. “Is this something you can see continuing?”

“Absolutely!” I answer confidently and certain. “I will be the third wheel for you guys.”

“Oh honey, in this relationship, we are all equals,” Gen says as she smoothes her hand over my hair. “Now, let’s talk about the rules.”

The 'rules' as I soon discover aren't really rules at all. Mostly we discuss what kind of things are turn-ons and what are turn-offs. 

I find out that Gen loves oral, receiving and giving,  whether it be male or female. She requests to be called Mama in the bedroom and is unopposed to anal play.

Jared's turn-ons include oral as well, he loves to maintain dominance over his lovers and inquired as to whether I am opposed to that aspect. I tell him an unwaveringly no. I will submit and comply with his control. 

When asked what I prefer, I shrug my shoulders. I'd never given it much thought. Sure, I'd had partners before; I wasn't a virgin by any means but to actually sit and think and come up with stuff I liked and didn't like was new to me. 

"Okay," Gen says, aware of my discomfort. "Well, we know you like oral, both giving and receiving it. And you like fucking, we are very well aware of that." She continues with a smile. "Are there any positions you're more fond of than others?"

"Uh, I like doggy style," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. Good god, I've had sex with these people and I'm getting embarrassed!

"Hey now. None of that," Gen coos. "This is a judgment free zone."

I nod, feeling more confident. "I like it when, uh...when you pulled my hair while I was eating you out. And," I turn to look at Jared. "I liked when you spanked her while fucking into her. That was hot, but not like you know,  hard or a lot of smacks but...yea."

He smiles at me and nods. "Good to know kitten."

"Anything else?" Gen presses.

"Uh, nothing I can think of right now. No, but permission to revisit this if I do think of something?"

"Of course sweetie."

"One last thing," Jared announces and I turn to look at him. "Move in with us?"

When the kids come in later with their nanny, they stop in their tracks when they see me sitting on the couch with their parents, platonically of course.

The two older ones, Tom and Shep,  recognize me and ask their mom why the lady from the restaurant is here while the little girl, Odette, climbs onto Jared's lap and burrows into his chest, peeking out and glancing at me.

"This is our friend. Her name is Y/N and she's going to be staying with us," Gen eases the information to the boys. 

The middle child, Shep, is the first one to speak. "Does she like dinosaurs?"

Gen looks at me with joy and laughter in her eyes. I smile and tell Shep, "Dinosaurs are magnificent! My favorite is the pterodactyl.  What's yours?"

The discussion between the boys and I quickly turns to which dinosaur would win if they were all in a battle to which dinosaur could survive if they were to come back alive and be in the world as it is today.

Odette finally warms up and makes her way to my side,  telling me that Mommy dinosaurs have to wear makeup while Daddy dinosaurs go to work.

I had been terrified of how the kids would accept the fact that I was going to be living with them but I had nothing to worry about. 

Kids are resilient though. They can adapt and adjust to just about anything. The three Padalecki kids have no problem knowing there is a new person living in their home but I also know the real talk is going to come after dinner and after Francine leaves for the evening.

Gen and I work together that night, getting the dinner dishes cleaned off and stacked in the dishwasher. Every so often, Gen would glance around and then pull me into a kiss, keeping it mostly innocent and chaste. The only thing not innocent is when her hands would roam and grab a boob or my ass or one time she ran her hand down my crotch, pressing on my clit. 

Once the kitchen is cleared, the two of us join Jared and the kids in their playroom where we decide to tell them what is actually going on.

Tom and Shep were sitting on the floor playing with toy cars, making engine noises while Odette sat on her dad's lap, coloring. 

"Guys," Gen speaks, getting the boys' attention. "Can you come over here for a moment. Family meeting."

Tom and Shep get up and walk to the table and stand, looking between the three adults in the room.

"Okay, you know how we have taught you all that honesty is always best? And that lying will only get you into more trouble?"

"Yes ma'am," they say in unison.

"Okay. Well your dad and I are going to be honest with you. Y/N is not only our friend, she is our girlfriend. We like her like we like each other; like Unkie Jensen likes Auntie D. And she likes us.

"You will see us-both of us- hug Y/N and kiss her just like we do each other. If you have a bad dream at night and come to our room she is going to be in bed with us. But we will always, always make room for you.  You three are our littlest loves and there isn't anything in this world we wouldn't do for you.

"Also, Y/N is the boss as much as your dad and I are so whatever she says goes. If she tells you it's time for bed you don't try to haggle your way out of it. If she tells you you've had enough candy, you listen. She is the adult, you are not. You understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay. Do you have any questions?"

They shake their heads no and Gen smiles as she reaches out to ruffle Shep's hair and then Tom's.

"You can go play for another hour and then it's time for baths and bed."

The boys go back to their spots and continue their game.

"Well that went better than I was expecting," I say with a laugh.

"Our boys are smart," Jared says with an air of pride. 

Odette looks up at him with a scoff, which causes both Gen and I to laugh.

"You're smart too lil O," he tells her before placing a kiss on her temple. 

When it's time for baths, Tom asks that I help him so I follow him to his room where he picks out a set of pajamas and underwear. We walk down the hall to the bath and he undresses as I begin filling the tub.

"Y/N?" Tom says as he washes his hair. 

"Yea?"

"Do you love us?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even. This was not a question I was expecting from a 7 year old.

"Mommy said that you like them like they like each other. And I know mommy and daddy love each other and they love us just like Unkie Jen loves Auntie D and JJ and Arry and Zeppy. So do you love us too?"

I'm not sure how to answer his inquiry. Do I love him and his siblings? Sure, what's not to love about three of the best behaved kids I have ever encountered. 

They took their Mom's news in stride, like it was no big deal that both their parents had a girlfriend, like it was normal.

"Yes, Tom. I love you and Shep and lil O. How could I not? You three are awesome," I laugh trying to break the tension. "Plus we can talk about dinosaurs without people giving us weird looks."

"Do you love Mommy and Daddy too?"

Well, there it is. The one question I was hoping to avoid because I didn't have an answer.  I don't know the answer.

Do I love Jared and Genevieve? I know I've lusted after them both for years and the three of us have had the most remarkable, memorable sex of my existence, but love? Wasn't it too soon?

"I think it is time to finish your bath before you turn wrinkly like a raisin," I tell him instead. 

It is only a few weeks later that those three words are shared between us. 

As we are readying for bed, Gen and I doing a skincare routine in front of the bathroom mirror Jared waltz in and lifts the toilet seat, not caring to relieve himself while we are in the room.

After he finishes and he rights himself, he wiggles between us to wash his hands. We both laugh at his antics and while drying his hands he kisses Gen,  telling her he loves her  and then turns to kiss me.

"I love you too," he whispers against my lips and my eyes widen at his proclamation.

The whole world stills, the Earth quits spinning and the air stops flowing as he presses his lips to mine again.

"Y/N?" Gen calls to me and everything begins moving again. "Are you okay sweetie?"

"Uh." That's the only thing I can utter. Jared just told me he loves me.  He just dropped those three precious words like it was nothing. 

"Do you not love me? Us?" Jared asks as he pulls away and looks down at me. 

My eyes well up with tears and I can't stop my body shaking if I wanted to. 

"Yes," I answer with a laugh. "I love you so much!"

Jared wraps me up in a kiss again, deepening it as he bends me backwards.  We pull away with smiles.  

"I love you. I love you. I love you," I say repeatedly.

"I love you Y/N," Gen proclaims as she pulls me into a hug before kissing me senseless.

That night we don't fuck. The three of us make love to one another, proclaiming our love and devotion to one another over and over until we each find our climaxes together, as one. 

On Friday we decide it is time to visit the Family Business Brewery to stock up on some more beer since the supply at home is getting low.

I'm nervous as hell as today I get to meet Jared and Gen's best friends and former lover. Jensen and Daneel and the kids have been away, up in the north visiting family and now they are back and the plan is to hang out at FBB to let the kids play on their playground. 

The Ackles know that Jared and Gen have someone they want them to meet but as I find out on the way there,  they have no idea just what I am to the Padalecki's. They just think it's a new friend.

As we pull up, the parking lot is half-full with vehicles and people milling about ready to go inside and sample some the craft beer that is brewed onsite.

I look toward the building and immediately can make out Jensen's silhouette. Probably because of the crowd that has amassed around him. Being one of the main characters on the country's hit sci-fi show and part owner of this place drew a bigger crowd to the brewery than the alcohol did apparently. 

I notice that over half of the guests have some type of Supernatural paraphernalia,  be it a t-shirt, a purse, or just a photo or something they hoped to get autographed.

The crowd finally disperses and Jensen finally makes his way to us, a smile on his face and a beer glass in his hand. 

"Hey guys. Glad you could make it. Dee is inside helping Gino run the bar since we are down a person," he explains and then his eyes narrow in on me. "Hello. I'm Jensen."

"Y/N," I say with a nod.

"Jay, this is our girlfriend." Gen tells him and I watch for his reaction. He is one hell of an actor because other than a quick widening of his green eyes, he fixes his face into one of nonchalance. 

"So, you're still…..doing that?" he asks lowly before taking a drink of his beer.

"We hadn't for a while," Jared speaks up. "Since you but yea, we now share a girlfriend."

"Nice," Jensen smiles but I can tell it's not a happy-for-you one; it's more forced, more strained.

Daneel finally comes out to join us and Gen introduces me much the same way she announced me to Jensen. 

"Oh wow!" Daneel exclaims.  "I, uh, didn't know you two were into that sort of thing."

So apparently she had no idea that a few years ago, Jensen had been in my position.  Good to know as now I can be  more aware of what to say and what to keep to myself.

The day is nice in the grove where the brewery is located. The heat from the sun is abated by the gentle breeze that flows through the trees. 

Jared and Jensen, and sometimes Gen get pulled away a few times by excited fans asking for pictures of just to chat, leaving Daneel and I watching the kids.

I can tell she is dying to ask questions so once there is no one close by, I turn to her and tell her. "You can ask."

"Oh thank god! It's been killing me. How does it work? Do you all sleep together? Have sex together?"

I smile at her questions. And with living with the Padalecki's I have come to also believe the truth is better than lying philosophy.

"We love one another and we work together raising the three most amazing kids I've ever met. Well, until now; the Ackles kids are pretty fantastic." I pause to smile at her. "Yes, we share a bed each night. Sometimes I'm in the middle, sometimes Gen. It just depends on who needs the assurance and safety net the most. 

"And yes we have sex together. As with the sleeping arrangement, we take turns on who is between the other two. Sometimes Jared fucks Gen while she eats me out and sometimes I eat her out while being whaled on by the big moose."

Daneel throws her hands up and shakes her head. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry I asked. That was a visual I did not need. And now it's stuck in my head."

She storms off and I can't help but laugh at her reaction. I mean, she asked after all. I just hope I didn't ruin her friendship with my lovers. 

Later that night, when I tell Jared and Gen about it they laugh and assure me that it's nothing Daneel won't get over; that she just probably will never ask me anything ever again. 

Over the next few months, I learn just how close the Padalecki's and the Ackles' are as we tend to spend every holiday together and attend each other's kid's birthday parties.

Daneel continues to be cordial to me but doesn't inquire any further into my relationship with Gen and Jared. 

That may also be because after paparazzi got a photo of Gen and I at the store holding hands and ran with the story that Gen and Jared were obviously on the splits, the three of us sat down to an interview with People magazine and told the world that the Padalecki's marriage and relationship was still going strong and made it known that they were also in a relationship with me.

After that, the buzz of it all settled down and everything went back to semi-normal. There would be some gossip on the internet about us or we'd received unmarked mail containing threats of damnation but, with the help of my girlfriend and boyfriend, I learned to let it all slide.

People would always have their opinions. I just had to get used to them being different than my own. The world wasn't going to stop turning just because I was in a relationship with a married couple. 

A year to the day that Jared and Gen had entered my life when they visited Y/E/E found us all in the kitchen; Jared and Gen sitting at the counter while I cooked us an anniversary dinner.

"Can you believe it's been a year?" Gen says as I pull the roasted chicken from the oven. "One year since we decided to go out to eat and run into the most beautiful human we've ever seen."

"A year since you left your number on a piece of paper before we left and waited patiently for her to call," Jared continues. "One whole year of the most magnificent mind-blowing sex of my life!"

"A year since I thought you leaving your number was a prank or a mistake but texted it anyway. A year of….hell, the best year of my existence, " I tell them as I plate up the chicken, pasta and asparagus before turning and placing their plates in front of them.

"I love you both so much."

"We love you equally," Gen says before we set about eating the dinner I cooked. 

The kids were staying over at the Ackles' so we had the house to ourselves.

Jared cleared the kitchen after dinner and dessert while Gen and I went up to the bedroom to get ready in our matching lingerie that we purchased special for the occasion. 

"Jared is going to flip when he sees us," Gen says as she comes up behind me in the mirror. "Fuck, are we lucky. Sweetie you are absolutely gorgeous.  I can't wait to pull this off of you," she says kisses my shoulder, grazing her teeth across my skin. "With my teeth."

I shudder at the thought and reach back tangling my hand in her hair, kissing her passionately. 

"Same goes for you darling," I tell her as we hear Jared coming up the stairs.

Gen and I rush to get on the bed, laying back in nothing but lace and silk waiting for Jared to enter the bedroom.

"Fuck. Me!" he exclaims as he walks in and sees us. "God damn, baby girls, you're going to give this ole man a heart attack," he says, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. 

As we both promised, we put a show on for Jared; disrobing one another with nothing but our teeth and lips. 

Gen finally squirts after I bury my face in her sweet cunt, licking all around with my fingers knuckle deep inside her. Her breathing is labored as I pull away, leaving my fingers wiggling inside and turn my head to kiss Jared.

He groans as the tang of her juices mixed with my taste floods his mouth and I begin fingering Gen again, feeling her walls fluttering and quivering around them. 

"You like that Mama?" I ask as I pull away from my boyfriend. "You want more? I can recreate our first night."

"Fuck yes!" Gen screams. "Fist me baby."

I curl my fingers down and work my closed fist into her sopping wet pussy easily, twisting my wrist as she writhes above me. I lean down and suck her clit between my lips, flicking the nub with my tongue. 

"Shit! I'm going to cum again," she pants and I take my fingers and press against her sweet spot. Her thighs clamp around my head as she climaxes. 

Jared walks around behind me and I feel the swath of his tongue lick from my clit to my entrance and up to my ass. It isn't the first time he's ate me like that and it is erotic and obscene and I love it.

When Jared's tip notches at my opening, I wiggle my hips and he slaps his palm down on my asscheek. I moan as I lay my forehead against Gen's leg. Jared spanks me once more before he slams into me, burying his whole length in one thrust. 

"Oh fuck! Yes!" I yell out as he begins a pounding pace. His hands gripping my hips tight enough to leave bruises.

Gen finally recuperates enough to join in, kissing me senseless and whispering not-so-sweet nothings in my ear.

"Jared is fucking you real good ain't he? You're taking all that cock. You gonna let him put a baby in you? Yea you are, aren't ya? Get all big and round with a Padalecki growing in you. You want that? You want Jared to cum deep inside and impregnate you?"

"Uh huh," is all I can muster as Jared keeps pounding into me from behind, his balls bouncing up to slap my clit.

"Jared, put a baby in our baby girl. Fill her little pussy up."

"Yes Daddy. Please," I say, finally getting my voice.  "Please daddy put your baby in me."

"Oh god. Yea, I can do that. I can definitely do that."

"Mama?" I call out to Gen who lays down to meet my eyes.  "Are you sure? This is what you want?"

"Yes baby. I want to watch you grow our baby inside you. I love you sweet girl. And I know you'll be the best mom, you already are to Tom, Shep and O."

She smiles before capturing my lips with hers, wrapping her hand in my hair and tugging, making me whimper and whine.

Jared stills behind me as I feel his dick throbbing and spurting, filling me with his cum and hopefully getting me pregnant. It seems to go on and on before he finally slumps and pulls out of me, only to prod his softened dick back inside and thrusts, making sure the release goes where it needs.

If we made a baby together tonight or not,  I know these two beautiful people, my lovers, will be here with me through the celebration or if need be, the act of trying until we succeed. 

Six weeks later, I find myself peeing on a stick. I haven't told anyone but my period is about 8 days late and I've always been regular. 

I wait for the timer to go off on my phone, staring at the test laying facedown on the sink. Am I pregnant? Am I just late? But then if that's the case, why am I late? 

The device dings and I hesitantly reach for the test, turning it over to find out the result.

As I walk down the stairs, I hear my family in the front room laughing and just being goofy, none of them aware of what I hold in my hand. The small thin piece of plastic that is going to change everything. 

I stand at the doorway and just watch the five of them. I love them all so much and am grateful that they are now a part of my life. The kids accepted me and made me feel welcomed and loved from the very beginning and now they sometimes call me Mommy Y/N. It warms my soul when they utter those words. 

Jared and Genevieve. I never thought I could find a love like I have with them. It is an all-consuming love. They are so kind, caring and generous. The three of us are in love and we are about to bring another life into the mix. 

“Hey guys,” I call out getting their attention. Shep runs and wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach, like he knows his new little brother or sister is growing inside me. But that can’t be, I haven’t said a word to anyone much less the kids.

I ruffle his hair and he looks up at me with a smile. “Why don’t you go sit on the sofa with your parents?” I request. “I have something to tell you all.”

“We’re having a baby,” I announce, not wanting to drag this out. I am happy, ecstatic even and I am hoping, ok I’m pretty sure this news will be accepted with joy. 

“What?” Gen exclaims, a smile blossoming on her face. “Really?”

“Yea,” I answer as I hold up the pregnancy test with the two bold blue lines. “I’m pregnant.”

Gen gently lifts O off her lap and jumps up, rushing to hug me and pulling me into a kiss. We’ve never hidden our relationship from the kids so to see their Mom and I kissing is no big deal to them.

When she pulls away, Gen looks at me with tears in her eyes. "We're having a baby?"

"Yea we are," I tell her, my own tears making themselves known. 

Suddenly Jared is pulling us both into his chest, his long strong arms holding us close.

"Where's the baby?" O asks as she looks around and in the floor. "I wann' see it."

We laugh as we break apart, going to join them on the sofa. 

I pull O onto my lap while Gen holds Shep and Tom is propped on his Dad's knee.

"The baby isn't born yet," I explain to my daughter. "He or she has to get big enough before it can come live with us. Right now, it's just a tiny little bean."

"I wann' see it," she repeats and I chuckle as I maneuver her around to straddle my thighs. I lift my shirt, exposing my stomach and take her hand to place under my belly button. "The baby is in here,  nice and warm and growing.”

Lil O’s eyebrows fuse together as she stares at the place her hand is and then she says, “Can I play with her when she gets here?”

I laugh and hear Gen and Jared chuckle.

“Of course you can sweetie,” I tell her. “But maybe not when she first gets here, she’ll be itty bitty.”

“She?” Jared says and I look at him. He practically has stars in his eyes with glee. 

“Well O called it a she so I just ran with it. Who knows, it could be a boy,” I say with a shrug. 

“I want a tyrannasaurus,” Shep declares. 

“Geez buddy,” I laugh as I look down at him. “You want me to explode? The baby is in my belly and you want it to be a dinosaur?”

“No, I wasn’t thinking about that,” Shep says, his voice remorseful.

“Hey Sheppy? It’s okay. I was just joking with you.”

“Okay,” he says as he reaches over and puts his hand on my stomach beside his sister’s. 

Before I know it I have three little palms against my skin, along with a slightly bigger one and a huge one over top of all of them; my family silently welcoming and loving on the new addition.

By the time Tom’s birthday comes around, I am huge! Gen had warned me that Padalecki’s were big babies but this is outrageous. I can't see my feet at all and need help to get out of bed every morning. This little one is making my life miserable but I know in the end, it will all be worth it.

We had decided against finding out the gender, mainly because I was still leery about how correct those results could be. So the five of us have begun referring to the bump as Baby P. And right now Baby P was kicking my kidneys and punching my liver. 

I still have almost a month before my due date of April 11 and it seems as if time is slowing down. Every day is a hurdle to get through, with being 8 months pregnant and still trying to help out around the house and do my chores, though both Gen and Jared have fussed at me for doing too much. But I’m pregnant, not disabled.

We’ve planned a barbeque party for Tom’s birthday and invited most of his friends from school, plus the Ackles and the Morgan’s and a few others from Jared’s time on the show. Both sets of grandparents are going to be here also, so it would definitely be a full house.

I am upstairs in the bedroom, trying to slide my sandals on but having trouble since I can’t see anything. Jared walks in while I huff and try again, only to push the shoe farther away.

“Hey baby,” he says gently. “Let me help you.”

“This is ridiculous,” I whine as he lifts my leg and slides the leather onto my foot. “I can’t do anything but waddle around, running into things and just getting in the way. I’m an annoyance to everyone. Maybe I should just stay up here.”

“You hush that right now,” he admonishes me, standing up to tower over me.  “You do not annoy anyone. You do not get in the way at all. You are pregnant, carrying my baby. You’re beautiful, baby girl. I love watching you, knowing that’s my child inside you; a life we created out of our love.” He tugs a stray hair behind my ear and tilts my chin up. “I love you. Gen loves you. Tom, Shep and O love you. We all love you and we love this baby. So get over yourself and get that cute little ass downstairs to celebrate our son’s birthday.”

“Cute and little is not how I would refer to my ass,” I retort with a smile. “I look like a Kardashian.”

“Mmhmm,” Jared mumbles as he leans down to kiss me. “More to spank.”

I chuckle as I tiptoe to kiss him and then turn to head downstairs to join my family and greet our guests.

The party is in full swing as most of the adults sit in lounge chairs, talking and catching up while Jared and Jensen man the grill and the ladies are in the kitchen gathering up the condiments and sides.

I have been commanded to stay in my seat and ask for anything I need. Jared went as far as to tell me if he saw me on my feet, he would spank me in front of everyone. And as much as I love him spanking me, that was something that no one else needed to see so I kept my promise, only asking that he give me a bottle of water for my stay.

Everyone seems to be having a good time; the kids are enjoying the gigantic bounce house that we rented and sat up in the backyard, the adults congregate on the patio talking and laughing and waiting for food.

I look around with a blissful heart at the family and friends I have acquired since becoming Jared and Gen’s lover. No one seems to bat an eye anymore about our relationship and took it at face value and that made me very happy. Sure, there were a few things still being said on the internet but those people don’t matter to me. What matters to me is the ones here today, celebrating our son’s birthday. 

A pain shoots through my body but as soon as it appears, it disappears so I think nothing of it and go back to watching Tom, Shep, JJ, and a few of their friends from school run around the yard playing tag. It’s a good day.

That good day turns when later that evening while the ones of us that are still lounging around, mostly family, my water breaks. Gerald and Sherri, Jared’s parents, stay at the house with the kids as Gen, Jared and I rush to the hospital.

In the early morning hours of March 18, we welcome Delaney Grace Padalecki, a whopping 9 pound 12 ounce baby girl. 

I thought I knew what love was, what love is but until I looked into my daughter’s eyes, I had had no idea. 

Love is infinite. Love is encompassing. Love is the glue that cements us all together. And I have found that with Gen and Jared and their-our-kids and now with Delaney. There is no way my life could be any richer. A once in a lifetime encounter gave me love and a family. 

THE END

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​

#jared padalecki #Genevieve Padalecki #reader insert #Padalecki kids adorableness #Once In A Lifetime #a story from a dream #smut #fluff #smidge of angst #pregnancy #so much smut #S.M.U.T. #i'm not even sorry #down a rabbit hole #NOT SPN

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Become A 7-Figure Real Estate Investor with Nick Perry and Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority

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Nick is the Owner/Founder/Executive Chairman of Want To Sell Now. The largest nationwide wholesaling company in the United States is based out of Austin TX.

He also owns a fleet of semi-trucks multiple eCommerce businesses and invests in multiple companies and commercial real estate. He also owns the 7 Figure Cartel mastermind that gets people quickly through the hurdles to become multiple 7 figure real estate investors.

He grew up in Northern Virginia and spent the first 5 years of my career in Personal Training before moving to Austin TX where he now resides. Nick moved to Austin with no job, network, and very little money. Soon as he got to Austin, he decided he would do whatever it took to be successful in real estate in pursuit of new opportunities.

He didn’t come easy. It took him 11 months to get his first deal but he did not give up. Nick worked 18 hours a day 7 days a week. He got a six-figure sales job at Indeed.com while he was building my real estate business. Nick devoted all of his sales commissions and time outside of my 9-5 to building my real estate business until he was able to go full-time. As soon as he went full-time, he quickly scaled his real estate company to where it is now in less than 3 years. He now has 8 streams of income and is working on creating more.

Timestamps:

0:01 – Get Ready To Be Plugged Into The Money

1:02 – Jay’s New Book: “Where To Get The Money Now” –https://www.JayConner.com/Book

1:59 – Today’s guest: Nick Perry

4:45 – Nick Perry talks about how he got started in the real estate business.

5:47 – What is your definition of freedom?

6:25 – When did you start your real estate business?

6:47 – Nick talks about some of his early struggles.

8:40 – As the owner of one of the largest wholesaling companies in the USA, Perry talks about what his company looks like and the number of deals they are making now.

10:04 – Nick Perry talks about what wholesaling is all about.

11:32 – Nick explains what is a Novation deal.

12:28 – What makes your company/organization different?

14:00 – How do you run your real estate business remotely?

16:10 – Nick talks about how he manages the rehab or repairs of a property.

17:51 – Tips on building buyers lists.

19:40 – Do you agree that it’s more challenging to find real estate deals now than a couple of years ago?

22:18 – How much money do you spend in marketing to get a contract?

23:21 – What tools in your real estate business that you can’t live without?

24:19 – What is the most important lesson that you learned from real estate investing?

26:42 – Nick Perry talks about his passion for helping other real estate investors.

28:18 – Connect with Nick Perry: https://www.7FigureCartel.com

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Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

What is Real Estate Investing? Live Private Money Academy Conference

https://youtu.be/QyeBbDOF4wo

YouTube Channel

https://www.youtube.com/c/RealEstateInvestingWithJayConner

iTunes:

https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/private-money-academy-real-estate-investing-jay-conner/id1377723034

Listen to our Podcast:

https://realestateinvestingdeals.mypodcastworld.com/11198/become-a-7-figure-real-estate-investor-with-nick-perry-and-jay-conner-the-private-money-authority

Become A 7-Figure Real Estate Investor with Nick Perry and Jay Conner

Jay Conner (02:10):

I don’t know about the rest of you, but today he’s down in Miami, on the beach. Anyway, this company is the largest nationwide wholesaling company in the United States, and it is based out of Austin, Texas. Now my guest also owns a fleet of semi-trucks, multiple e-commerce businesses, and he also invests in multiple companies and commercial real estate. Now he also owns this mastermind, the 7-Figure Cartel Mastermind. I can’t wait to hear about that. And that gets people quickly through the hurdles to become and enjoy a multiple 7-figure real estate investing company. Now he grew up in Northern Virginia, spent the first five years of his career in personal training before moving to Austin, Texas, where he now lives and moved to Austin with no job network, very little money. And as soon as he got to Austin in pursuit of new opportunities, he decided he was going to do whatever it took to be a successful real estate investor.

Jay Conner (03:12):

Well, it did not come to him easy and as it does for most of us. It took him 11 months before he got his first deal and he didn’t give up. He worked 18 hours a day, 7 days a week, got a 6-figure sales job at Indeed.com, while at the same time, he was building his real estate investing business. He devoted all of his sales commissions and time outside of the 9 to 5 to building his real estate business until he was able to go full time. So as soon as he went full time, he quickly scaled his real estate company to where it is now and did all that in less than 3 years. And today he has 8 different streams of income and is working on creating more. With that, let me welcome to the show here, my friend, Nick Perry. Hello, Nick. Welcome to the show.

Nick Perry (04:04):

Jay, what an intro man. That was incredible, but I’m honored and excited to be with you guys right now. So looking forward to learning it from you and, hopefully, being able to give it a lot of value to the audience as well.

Jay Conner (04:15):

Absolutely. Nick. So it looks like you’re relaxing down there in Miami.

Nick Perry (04:22):

I am. I actually just moved into a new house here in Miami Beach. So I’m getting my office set up, the interior designer’s coming back and forth. So I’m hanging out on the couch, working from the couch today.

Jay Conner (04:33):

Awesome. Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. Well, I appreciate you taking time out to join me and the audience here on the show. So are you ready? You got your seatbelt on?

Nick Perry (04:43):

Let’s go.

Jay Conner (04:45):

All right. What got you into real estate?

Nick Perry (04:49):

My entire life, coming from a kind of middle-class family, everybody that I surrounded myself with was your W-2 employees. They work 9 to 5, just like the majority of the world. And when I was a personal trainer, most of my clients were really, really well off. They were business owners, they were in sales. And those were the guys that were taking nice vacations, they were driving fancy cars, they had freedom and all the things that I wanted in life. And so rather than going with the flock to continue on a 9 to 5 path, I realized that in order to be financially free, I better go out and build a company or get into some high-ticket sales because that’s what everybody who actually had money was doing. So I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but real estate ended up turning out to be that vehicle. And it’s been incredible, as you know, it’s the best decision I ever made in my life.

Jay Conner (05:47):

So you mentioned the word “freedom.” What’s your definition of freedom?

Nick Perry (05:50):

Well, I mean, I’m sitting here right now in Miami Beach. I live two blocks from the ocean. I’ve got the freedom to be able to go where I want when I want, be with the family when I want, so yeah. If I was working at a 9 to 5 job, you just can’t do that kind of thing. So that is also freedom just to be able to go into new ventures and explore different areas of life. That’s really what it’s all about for me. So yeah, I’ve been able to create that for myself and it’s been a heck of a ride.

Jay Conner (06:26):

So, what year did you start?

Nick Perry (06:29):

I landed in Austin, Texas, like you said, without really anything. I had like $5,000 in my name and I just started learning and taking action and I just didn’t give up. And now here we are 7 years later.

Jay Conner (06:45):

Yeah. So what were some of your early struggles?

Nick Perry (06:51):

Early struggles? Obviously, everybody’s got a learning curve, but in 2014, I was doing a lot of direct mail. I wasn’t getting a lot of results either. I would handwrite the cards myself because I didn’t have enough money to pay for a fulfillment house. And I had to get good at sales, too. When I moved down to Austin, it was a much different place than Northern Virginia where I grew up. So, I had to adapt my sales style. You can’t talk so fast down in Texas like you can up in Northern Virginia. So I had to slow down a little bit, and really, the biggest thing was I was getting too much information. I think this is what happens to a lot of investors, as I’m watching YouTube video after YouTube video, trying to absorb as much as I can. And I really didn’t start getting traction until I hired my first mentor and just plugged directly into him. So I started working with Sean Terry, a great guy, in the very beginning, and I would visit with him every quarter and he would tell me exactly what I needed to do and I’d come back the next quarter. And I did that for a couple of years and that really got me going. So hiring a good mentor early was critical for my success. I was fumbling around trying to watch YouTube videos for the first 11 months.

Jay Conner (08:17):

Right. I got you. So yeah, getting a mentor, getting a really, really good coach up front was very important for you. So you’ve got one of the largest, if not the largest, wholesaling company in the US. What does your company look like?

Nick Perry (08:51):

Basically, what does it look like physically? It’s an inside sales office, right? So we’ve got 11 employees and inside of it, we’ve got 5 in Acquisitions. We’ve got 3 in Dispositions, we’ve got my seat as CEO. Then we’ve got a couple support admins and then myself. So we’re not huge, but we’ve been doing it long enough that all of our people are just A players.

Jay Conner (09:23):

So, how many deals are you doing these days in your organization?

Nick Perry (09:28):

So, when we’re in the office, we’re getting anywhere from 3 to 5 contracts every single day. So between 40 to 60 closed and funded deals every month.

Jay Conner (09:39):

Gotcha. And how many different markets are you in?

Nick Perry (09:43):

So the unique thing about my company is we market the entire United States. So I don’t have a specific market or pockets or different markets. I literally blanket the entire US.

Jay Conner (09:59):

Got you. So about five contracts a day. Day in and day out. Let’s make sure everybody understands what we mean when we say “wholesaling.” Different people have different definitions of wholesaling. So what’s your definition of wholesaling? How does that work?

Nick Perry (10:14):

Yeah, wholesaling is, you’re going and you’re contracting a property. Wholesaling, you could literally wholesale any item, but we’ll just use real estate for the example. So you negotiate with a motivated seller to get a property under contract for a certain amount that you can turn around and give it to an investor for a higher amount. So easy numbers, you’ve got a $100,000 property. It’s worth a hundred grand. You get the seller to agree to let you have that property and put it under contract for $65,000. And then you turn around and you find a fix-and-flipper or an investor that wants to buy that property. And they’ll buy it for $75,000. Well, when you get a contract with both parties and turn them into the title company, the title company will give you a $10,000 check or however much the difference is.

Jay Conner (11:03):

Right. So would you say wholesaling in your company is sort of synonymous with assigning or collecting assignment fees?

Nick Perry (11:11):

Correct? Yeah, so we collect a lot of assignment fees, but we’re not just a one-trick pony either. We do “subject to” deals. I hold a lot of rentals in my portfolio, as well. We do novations. So we’re always looking for different exit strategies to monetize more deals.

Jay Conner (11:32):

Right? Explain to everybody what a novation is. What’s a novation deal?

Nick Perry (11:36):

So a novation deal is basically if you have a seller who wants close to retail, their house is in pretty good shape, right? You can go ahead and contract that property. Say they want thousands. We’ll use the $100,000 example again. You got a house that’s a hundred and the seller doesn’t want to take a dime less than 90. Well, you put that property under contract with a novation agreement at 90,000, and that novation agreement will allow you to actually list that property at full retail. Sometimes there’s minor repairs that you do as part of the novation agreement. You may go in and do some carpet or paint or landscaping, but you’re not doing any heavy remodels. These are properties that are in fairly good condition and you can put them and list them and get full retail from a conventional buyer at the end.

Jay Conner (12:27):

Right. What would you say is different about your organization, say from some of your other friends that have real estate investing companies, or say, from some of your other competitors?

Nick Perry (12:41):

Well, being nationwide is completely different than being in a select handful of markets because we don’t have boots on the ground. That would be really impossible, as well. So in order for us to be successful, we have to literally do everything over the phone from acquisitions to dispositions, to coordinating the showings. Literally, everything from A to Z is done remotely from our office in Austin, Texas. So that’s something that’s different than a lot of people, is we’re not having any boots on the ground or anything like that. And then, additionally, my people, that’s the biggest key to my success is the caliber of candidates that we’ve attracted into our organization. I think bar none, I’ll put my team up against anybody’s team that I’ve got a great group of guys.

Jay Conner (14:02):

Give us a 30,000 foot view of how you run a totally virtual remote operation, no boots on the ground. Like what are the key components that you have to have in place for that to work?

Nick Perry (14:27):

So, we do a ton of inbound marketing pretty much through PPC. So we do all online marketing. We don’t do any telecommunications. So a lead will come in and we’re talking to them very similar to the way that most people are talking to these sellers, but when we negotiate, we negotiate over the phone. So we’re going through the property condition. We’re evaluating the property right there on our computers in Austin, and based on the comparables and the condition that the seller describes, we’ll go ahead and contract that property via DocuSign, like electronic signature. And once we have that electronic signature, then the next step is to actually get real photos on file. And that way we can actually start to market that property. So we’ll have the seller take photos for us, or we’ll hire a local handyman or a realtor to go get photos for us on our behalf.

Nick Perry (15:22):

And then from there, once we’ve got our photos, we’ve got our contract and we know how to get access into that property, then we can start locating interested parties who actually want to buy that property. So we’ll go out, we’ll find the buyer, we’ll have them usually put a deposit down before they even go out to the property, once their deposit is in and they’ve agreed to purchase it based on the inspection, we’ll give them one walkthrough after they put their deposit down. Then from there, they’ll do their walkthrough and we’ll use a local title company, or we have national title companies that we use that’ll facilitate the closing with all parties and you send the wire right into our bank account.

Jay Conner (16:08):

So a little more specifically, how do you get really close on estimating repairs?

Nick Perry (16:17):

It’s an art. So one thing that we do is we have a detailed property description and then pictures tell a thousand words, right? So yeah, sellers don’t always know the exact condition of their property, or they try to hide things, you know? But once you have a detailed Rolodex of photos to look at, that’s going to get you really close. Also, after we send somebody in there, if they find out that there’s additional repairs that are needed, we’re going to disclose that to the seller and all parties and make sure that it’s a win-win for everybody involved. We want the investor to get a great deal, solve the seller’s problems. So, nothing’s really getting past us.

Jay Conner (17:08):

You say the majority of your buyers are other real estate investors that are taking the deal down and you’re planning on an assignment fee from them?

Nick Perry (17:21):

Yeah. And unless it’s a novation agreement or sometimes, we’ll just list the properties on the MLS on behalf of the seller. And in those cases, it’s a conventional buyer, but the majority of our clients are all real estate investors like yourself. And you guys that are watching the show that are fixing-and-flipping property, or you’re a buy-and-hold investor looking for additional cash flow properties. Those are our end clients at the end of the day.

Jay Conner (17:51):

You’ve got someone that’s starting out and they want to be in wholesaling. One of the first things they need to do, I suppose, is build a buyers list, right? So what are some of your tips and secrets and strategies on how you quickly build a buyers list of other real estate investors to market wholesale deals today?

Nick Perry (18:15):

Well, yeah, that was one of my biggest challenges going nationwide. I had leads coming in from everywhere, but I didn’t have buyers everywhere. And so one thing that was really helpful to me was you’re going to these masterminds and things like that because I got to know so many other investors from different markets. I was either able to barter, trade, or buy a ton of different buyers lists. So I quickly built up a large buyer’s list just from that. And then, additionally, Facebook is a great tool. There’s tons of real estate investment, Facebook groups, all over where there’s active investors looking for deals. So that and a lot of these small towns, we just reach out to the realtors there because those realtors know everybody, right? They know the doctor that wants to buy a couple of rental properties a month. They know the big fix-and-flipper that’s doing 40 homes a year. So you just get resourceful, roll your sleeves up, and talk to people.

Jay Conner (19:18):

You can’t be picking up the telephone, can you?

Nick Perry (19:22):

Now, we are big on that. I’m big on being on the phones. We don’t do a lot of texting or emailing. My guys, it’s old school, pick up the phone, and make contact and have a conversation.

Jay Conner (19:37):

Yeah, there you go. I love it. We’re in a crazy market nationwide, pretty much every market. There’s no inventory to speak of in the multiple listing service. I hear a lot of my real estate investing friends say it’s the most challenging time that they’ve ever had, finding the off-market deals. And so we gotta be consistently marketing. So first of all, would you agree with that statement that it’s more challenging to find deals today, say than a couple of years ago?

Nick Perry (20:13):

I don’t know. I mean, I’m making more money than I’ve ever made in my career right now. So I think it just comes down to being smart with the way that you’re marketing because if you’re doing telecommunications, which is cold-calling, ringless voicemail, texting sellers, that’s an uphill battle. You’re beating on their door, knocking on their door, asking to give them a cash offer and everybody else is doing that. So one thing that was critical for me was to get really good at online marketing. All I do is pay-per-click advertising. I don’t do any other form of marketing. It’s been that way for a long time just because it’s a completely different approach when somebody’s reaching out to you, asking you for help versus you reaching out and trying to help somebody.

Jay Conner (21:06):

Absolutely. I was gonna say, it’s a whole different conversation when they’re raising their hand looking for you versus you raising your hand and you looking for them. It’s a different, whole conversation when somebody is clicking on your ad and saying, “Hey, please contact me,” versus you’re coming into somebody’s newsfeed or a Facebook ad or anything like that. I love it. So that’s interesting. You’re the only person I’ve talked to that only has one marketing channel. So that’s fantastic. I would think your sales guys, your acquisitions guys have a lot happier day than some other wholesalers.

Nick Perry (21:54):

Big time. If I were to give them cold calling leads or texting leads, they’d probably quit because I mean, it’s a completely different vibe. We get our conversions and it’s 1 out of every 10 to 15 leads is a contract. So they’re having to do much less outbound dials to get deals.

Jay Conner (22:16):

Right. What’s your average cost of a deal these days? What’s your conversion cost? How much money do you have to spend in marketing to get a contract?

Nick Perry (22:31):

I know it fluctuates between $800 and $1200. So our cost per contract’s really low because I’ve been working on PPC for so long. I’ve got my cost per lead really low at this point, which obviously plays a huge part in the cost per contract and profitability and all of that.

Jay Conner (22:49):

That’s fantastic. Do you use virtual assistants in your business?

Nick Perry (22:55):

We do. We have some virtual assistants that help out on the disposition side. We have some a couple of full-time virtual assistants that help follow up within our internal database, but the majority of my staff is all in-house right there in Austin, Texas. And they’re 5 days a week, Monday through Friday just going after it.

Jay Conner (23:21):

What kind of CRM or tools or systems do you have in place that your business really couldn’t live without?

Nick Perry (23:31):

We’ve customized our Podio to do everything that we needed to do. So that’s been phenomenal. If you’re using Podio, find a good developer to help customize it to the way that you like to do business. And then additionally Zillow, we comp using Zillow and we comp using PropStream. So those are really helpful. And then on the selling side of the properties, we use a software called InvestorLift, which is really helpful. It’ll show you all the LLCs of the people that are flipping property there in the area and give you their contact information. So InvestorLift has been a powerful tool for finding those investors across the country.

Jay Conner (24:18):

Interesting. So you’ve got quite a few years of experience right now. My next question, you would probably be able to answer this in more than one way, so I’ll just let you pick one. What’s one of the most important lessons you’ve learned since being in real estate investing?

Nick Perry (24:35):

Oh man. There’s so many. If I had to boil it down to one though, I don’t want to give you a cliché answer, like, “Don’t give up” or anything like that, but in terms of real estate investing is, “It’s going to be okay.” So here’s what I tell a lot of my students, too. It comes down to your team, and let me elaborate on that. “A” Players are the only thing that work in this business. If you have an A Player and B Player, here’s what happens. You got the B Player that ends up getting half of the leads, and that deal that your A Player would have closed and made $70,000 on, your B Player is going to fumble on that and it’s not going to become a deal. So you end up having a lot of lost revenue. So you look at that and you take that scenario and you extract it out over a week, a month, a quarter a year, you could, you could be potentially losing your multiple 7-figures if you don’t have the best talent. So I think people want to try to settle for inexperienced people, people that aren’t A Talent because they don’t think they can afford them and things like that. But I’m telling you, good talent is really the key to my success.

Jay Conner (26:01):

And what are your favorite ways to find that talent?

Nick Perry (26:06):

So I worked at Indeed before coming into real estate. So I know a lot of the tricks on how to get a ton of candidate flow there. And then we’ve come up with a proprietary way of just being able to quickly funnel through people and get near the best people that rise to the top on Indeed. So, Indeed, by far is number one and then referrals, as well. We’ve had a lot of great people come through who work with me just through referrals.

Jay Conner (26:36):

Gotcha. Super! Well, Nick, I tell you what, you have got the experience and you are one impressive human being. What is a final thought or thoughts that you would like to share with the audience?

Nick Perry (26:50):

Yeah, final thoughts. The biggest thing is if you’re already in the business, what tends to happen a lot of times is you plateau, you end up getting stuck. I got stuck in what I call “wholesaling purgatory” for 3 or 4 years where I couldn’t get past 5 to 8 deals a month. And what I did was now that we do 40, 50, 60 deals a month, the biggest difference was 1. Your team, 2. Your marketing, and then 3.) Also being nationwide. So I literally downloaded everything I know into video format and then created a mastermind behind it, as well, where I work with already experienced real estate investors that are looking to get from maybe a handful of deals a month to 7+ figures, multiple 7-figures a year. That’s what I’m really good at is helping people that are already successful in getting them quickly through those growth pains in this business because I already went through it. So that’s my new passion now is working with other investors I get to help. That’s really rewarding to me. And that’s been my new passion since I don’t do much in the day-to-day of my wholesaling operation anymore. I just get out of those guys’ way and let them close deals.

Jay Conner (28:11):

Yeah, man, and I’ve gotten the same passion and that is making a difference in other real estate investors’ lives. So let’s give everybody your website because we got some viewers and most of the people that are going to be listening to us will actually be listening to the podcast. So that website is www.7FigureCartel.com. Did I get that right, Nick?

Nick Perry (28:49):

You got it. Or you can just reach out to me on Instagram. It’s just my name, Nick Perry and then REI like real estate investments. So just Nick Perry REI, or you can go to the website, but yeah, happy to connect and help you guys any way I can.

#Jay Conner #Private Money Lender #Real Estate Business #Real Estate #Real Estate Investing #Real Estate Investor #Real Estate Profit #The Private Money Authority #Flip Your House

[achaoticeternal]

THIS IS ME TRYING

AVENGERS X READER (tony stark x daughter!reader, platonic peter parker x reader) masterlist // taglist

Request: @big-galaxy-chaos​ “Hey so I see that you also need requests as much as I do 😚 so here is mine! So it's Peter x stark!reader angst. Where Tony is afraid of becoming like his father but in reality, he is worst than him. He favors Peter more than her. Even though she is smarter than her own father, and won tons of awards and shit. Tony doesn't realize what he lost until the reader is gone. Btw the relationship between the reader and Peter is platonic! Also, everyone is oblivious to how she is feeling. Just pure angst”

Summary: Dads and daughters are supposed to have a beautiful relationship. But you could never be the song he always wanted. Word Count: 2.5K A/N: Based on the song this is me trying by Taylor Swift. Reader and Peter are both 18+; takes place after Thanos and Tony lives. Warnings: Heavy angst, cursing, self destructive behaviors, mentions death

“Mr. Stark, I’ve been working on the chemical formula of my webbing and I’m pretty sure that I’ve completely perfected it,” Peter talked while walking with your father to the lab.

“That’s great because I’ve been working on your web-shooters. Now, they can shoot up to 200 yards in length and the error rate of them getting jammed is less than one percent.”

Tony rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder as they left the room together. Neither of them acknowledges you on the couch, reading another novel involving quantum physics. But you’re used to the cold shoulder your father has given you since he first met Peter Parker. You’re used to the way he’s turned you away all your life, justifying his choice by saying he’s protecting you. 

You knew that he feared to become his father. Pepper explained that to you when you were a child and you couldn’t leave your room until Tony’s lady of the night let. Or as you and Pepper called it at the time “taking out the trash”. 

Maybe that was when you became more interested in the mathematics and science you found in the book and the workshop over good ole bonding time with dear old dad. If he wanted to neglect the time and opportunity to raise you, you would at least make sure to put his money and name to good use for your own personal benefit. And in the back of your mind, you knew that part of you was doing this to earn the attention and love you desired from your father.

Tony just saw it as taking an early interest in your future. So he didn’t stop you when you preferred to sit with tutors over playdates, draw out designs for engines and inventions instead of scribbling in coloring books, or even reading through scientific theories over watching Disney movies. He didn’t think it was strange, because that’s what he did at your age. Hell, by the time you were 10 you had won three first-place national science fair ribbons, third place in the national spelling bee, and began developing a prototype to turn the emissions from cars back into breathable oxygen. 

Everyone noticed your brain, and how much you had achieved now at 18 years old. You held 2 Bachelor’s in Mechanical Engineering and Organic Chemistry from MIT and a Master’s in Astrophysics from Georgia Tech. And you were now planning out when you wanted to go to Law school and earn your doctorate. But you were living at the compound now, taking a gap year.

When you went away for school, you learned from others how normal life was for everyone else. You met kids who were the first in their family to go to college or were looking for opportunities outside of the small towns they came from. When you came home from your second semester at MIT, you told Tony about all this and he created the September Foundation in order to fund the projects and inventions those kids were creating. It was another punch in the gut to you, because you realized that you would never be enough for Tony.

If you were enough, he would have passed the mantle of Iron Man onto someone else after he almost lost you and Pepper to the Mandarin. If you were enough, he wouldn’t have enlisted Peter to help him in his fight against Captain America. If you were enough, he wouldn’t have gone into space for a final fight. If you were enough, Morgan wouldn’t be in the other room watching cartoons. And if Tony acknowledged you, just even a little but, maybe you wouldn’t be trying so hard to impress him and the world.

“Ms. Stark, your package has arrived. Shall I send it over to the labs?” F.R.I.D.A.Y echoed into the room.

“No, send it over to my personal workshop. In fact, send all of TS-2008 to my personal workshop.”

“Of course, miss.”

“Oh, and F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Yes, miss?”

“Please stop referring to me as ‘Ms. Stark’, (Y/N) is fine.”

“Alright, CASS, reboot the system diagnostics and run test C-24,” you yawned as you asked your personal AI system. The personal AI system you built for yourself, bu yourself - no help from Tony at all. 

“Systems are checked out, shall I launch the test?”

“Go for it,” you groaned and took to Advil for your poundingheadachee. It was now two in the morning after another long night of coding, calibrating, testing, and perfecting the project you’ve been working on the past two years. 

When you were younger, you tried to replicate the Iron Man suit, but your father quickly discovered the helmet and nearly perfected arc reactor you’d created in his lab. He trashed all of it and told you never to attempt to create the suit again. He said you were better than that, that you had more potential than pretending to be a superhero. You realized as you grew older that he didn’t care if you were trying to become a hero or not; but that you were copying his work. His precious Iron Man that he took months to perfect only took a week for his child to solve.

Dear old dad couldn’t let you have things the easy way. So instead after SHIELD fell and Tony began working to finish wiping out HYDRA, you began working on your own original model suit. Now it was almost ready to showcase to the world. 

“Test C-24:successful. Shall I continue to run diagnostics to watch the processing and reaction time of TS-2008?”

“Yes, CASS. Run virtual simulations L-29, O-400, and T-38. Let me know when the trials have finished running and whether or not they were successful or not.”

“Yes, Ms. (Y/N),”

You pushed away from your desk and left your workshop. Before you knew it, you were in the kitchen pouring yourself another cup of coffee. You had been through 3 pots already tonight and no one noticed. Guess that was the nice thing about being Tony’s kid. Everyone else acknowledge your accomplishments and paid no mind to your destructive tendencies. In fact, maybe you’d celebrate tonight and snag a bottle of champagne from the extravagant wine fridge next to the dishwasher. You’d done it plenty of nights before when you wanted to drown out and numb the pain in your heart.

“(Y/N)? Why are you awake? And why are you holding a bottle of champagne?”

Ah, Peter... of course he would be spending the weekend at the compound. It’s not likely he has a perfectly good and happy home back in Queens with a guardian who loves him very much and would give the world to him. Guess that’s something May and your Father. 

“Hello, Perfect Parker”

“You know I’ve never understood why you call me that, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t make sense from your end of the looking glass.Why are you up?” You tried so hard not scowl or be too rude. Peter had tattled to TOny before about you having a ‘bad attitude’ towards him.

“I believe I asked you that first.”

“That you did, but if you want an answer out of me, you’ll have to answer first.”

“I couldn’t sleep. thought I would get myself a glass of water. You?”

“I’m getting wasted, just like all my potential,” You faked a smile and started peeling the gold wrapping off of the cork of the bottle.

“Don’t say that, everyone knows how talented and brilliant you are,” He sighed while grabbing himself a glass and walking over to the fridge, “You’re a Stark”

“Tell that to Dad, because you’ll always be more of a Stark than I’ll ever be,” You huffed as you pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer near you.

“That doesn’t make any sense, (Y/N), are you sure you haven’t been drinking already? Because you sound delirious. Maybe you should spend some time outside of your bedroom, maybe even get out of the compound. When was the last time you left to go somewhere?”

“Thanks for the concern Parker, but I’ve been able to hold my own for at least fifteen years now. And I know I don’t leave here a lot because I don’t have the opportunity too. If there’s a private event, either Pepper attends with Tony or Spider-man makes an appearance with Iron Man. I’m just surprised that there aren’t rumors across the media wondering ‘Is Spider-Man the lost of the Iron Man, Tony Stark?” You waved your hand in the air to match the dramatic tone.

“Haha, you’re so funny,” He took a sip out of your water, “People know you exist”

“Yeah, maybe if they do a quick Google shirt. But I’m not offended, I know that I just live in your shadow. But I’m used to it,” Your poured the alcohol into a glass and began to sip from it, relief flooding through you.

“Okay , I get it. You’re just in another one of your dramatic moods, maybe you should just go to bed before you say or do something stupid,” he took a step towards you.

“Don’t I always?”

“Always what?”

“Say or do something stupid?”

He halted and shook his head, “That’s not what I meant, (Y/N), I-”

“No, that’s exactly what you meant, Parker,” You brushed past him and stormed into the living room, “You don’t understand how lucky you are.”

He came stomping after you, “Oh, so you’re feeling brave, huh? Well you just sound like an idiot. I’m not just some lucky kid! I’ve lost my parents, my Uncle was killed in front of my face, and I disappeared from existence! The only people who care for me are Aunt May and Tony.”

You turned to face him, face completely red, tears threatening to spill, “Well at least you have Tony, because I don’t! I’ve just run around all my life trying to be perfect, be easy for him to deal with, live up to his and everybody's expectations! But I’m not good enough, I’ve never been good enough, and I’ll never be good enough. I’m just Tony Stark’s bastard child who built herself from the ground up without the slightest bit of help from her father!”

“(Y/N)...”

“No, don’t you ‘(Y/N)’ me. You’ve gotten everything you wanted from my father since day one. I never had that. You didn’t have to work to really make your own suite, you didn’t have to endure a lifetime of pain because of his arrogant ass, YOU didn’t have to wonder where Tony was on your graduation day for MIT - his alma mater - because he attended your fucking high school graduation instead!”

“What the hell is going on?” Tony yelled from the opposite end of the room. Pepper stood behind him and you could hear other door creaking open to here the events down the hall, “Not only are you two fighting in the living room and woke up half the compound, but you woke up Morgan and now she’s crying in her room because you two are screaming at each other.”

“Well boo-fucking-hoo, poor Morgan woke up in the middle of the night,” you mumbled to yourself.

“I just came to get a glass of water,” Peter attempted to defend himself.

And from Tony and Pepper’s angle, he did look to be more innocent. He had a glass of water in his hand and was completely cool. While you stood opposite of him; a bottle of booze in one had, dark circles under your eyes, a tear stained face, and looking to be in a mad frenzy.

“(Y/N), explain yourself,” Tony spoke sternly.

You took a deep breath in and wiped away fresh tears with your sleeve, “No, I don’t have to.”

“Excuse me,” your father marched across the room, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight but-”

“What’s gotten into me? Do you even listen to the bullshit that comes out of your mouth? No, of course you do, because you like listening to yourself talk more than you’ll listen to me. So talking to you is as fucking useless as talking to a deaf man!”

Peter and Tony now stood stunned at you and your sudden tantrum, but you knew it had been coming, you had always known. You knew one day you were going to explode, and it just happened to be tonight.

“I get it, I’m not precious Peter, or your beautiful Morgan. I’m just your bastard child from some broad you met on Malibu Beach. Even though I’m just a kid, I’ve always been your competition, a threat to you and your name. And even after every nearly life-ending event, I thought things would change - that you’d finally love me. But that never happened not even after Extremis infected not just Pepper’s body, but my own! And now I’m dying, I’m fucking dying, dad. I’m running out of time and trying to do everything I can. I go to school and get these diplomas and certificates to impress you. I invent and build thing to get your attention. I do it all because I still desire your validation and I’m running out of time,” you fall to your knees, everything becoming to much, “this is me trying, just like I have been all my life- but it’s still not enough.”

The room went silent. Only sobs echoed around the room as champagne poured out the bottle, staining the carpet. Neither Tony or Peter knew what to say or what to do. How could they begin to comfort the crying girl on the floor, or fix everything that ha occured over a lifetime.

Tony finally knelt down, “(Y/N), you know I never meant for any of this to happen, for you to ever feel like this. I’ve always been so scared of becoming your grandfather... I thought I was doing right by never pushing you, I guess it just never clicked.”

“Oh yeah, is that why you pushed me away and found Peter? And then when you realized you had messed up and forgot about your first daughter, you had another one in order to make things up?” You raised to head and shoulder up first, then finally rose back onto your two feet, “well congratulations, you’re worse than Howard Stark. And I hope you’re proud, Dad.”

With that, you left the living room. You couldn’t deal with in anymore that night, maybe ever again. Because when Tony came to check on you the next morning, you were missing. Only a note by your bedside remained as the only proof you had even lived in the room.

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

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#mattie writes #Avengers #avengers x reader #peter parker x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #iron man x reader #spider-man #spiderman imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #requested #angst #taylor swift #folklore #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #peter parker imagine #tony stark x reader #robert downey junior

[plaidbooks]

Hi babes - a request that’s kind of specific- (readerxcarisi) this would take place in season 19, episode 8 where Rollins and Carisi are at the shitty motel and they have that moment. So the idea would be that reader is also a detective, maybe newer or something tagging along with them two and reader knows Carisi has a thing for Rollins and reader was with him when they saw the guy leaving Amanda’s room. Reader is there for him after and he realizes maybe he was chasing the wrong girl??

New Girl

A/N: Hey Anon! I had to rewatch this to do some of the dialogue from it (I condensed the first scene so it’s not incredibly long.) but it’s a good idea to rewtach this ep before reading....unless you remember that Heather was the catfisher and stuff. Anyways, this is a little longer cause t’s slower paced. I like the idea of being there for someone without needing to ask. Also yes, I’m taking the chance to flex some sports knowledge, sorry not sorry. Hope you enjoy <3

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Words: 2727

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

“They traced the IP address to West Virginia,” Sonny said to Olivia, as they both came into the precinct.

“Good, get a John Doe warrant and send it to the local precinct,” Liv replied.

“Done and done.”

Liv gave him a smirk. “Then fill up your gas tank. Fin, you’re riding shotgun.”

“Oh, hell no; I’m allergic to West Virginia,” Fin said, leaning back in his chair.

Liv sighed. “Okay, Rollins, you’re up.”

“Really?” she whined.

Liv glanced between the two, already looking tired of this crap. “Come on, someone’s gotta translate for him,” she joked, gesturing at Sonny, who rolled his eyes.

“I’ll go,” you perked up. You were still the new kid, so you were jumping at every opportunity to go out in the field. Plus, you had a massive crush on Sonny, and being stuck in a car with him seemed like a good chance to learn more about him.

Liv gave you a relieved smile. “Thank you; at least someone here wants to work. But I’d also like someone with experience; Rollins, you’re going too.”

 ***************

The drive wasn’t awkward…at least, not for Sonny and Amanda. They’ve been partners for years now, chatting up a storm. You sat in the back seat, listening in on their stories, jumping in when appropriate, but otherwise fading into the leather behind you. This wasn’t what you had hoped for when you thought about going to West Virginia with Sonny, but at least you were getting some experience in the field…right?

The arrest was quick, painless. You actually found yourself feeling bad for Heather as you had her arrested in her mother’s home. But then you remembered what happened to Katie, and it solidified your resolve.

When Amanda suggested you three, and Chuck, the local officer, go to The Barrel—the local bar—for information, you’re first thought was that maybe alcohol would help you loosen up around Sonny. But after a few shots and a cocktail, all you saw was how he looked at Amanda, and you cursed yourself for not seeing it sooner. Why would he ever fall for someone like you when he could be with someone like her? And they were already so close; what was the point of trying?

Complaining about a headache, you excused yourself, telling them you’d see them in the morning.

“Want me to walk ya back to your room?” Sonny asked, looking concerned.

Your heart fluttered at the thought, but then you remembered the heart eyes he’d been giving Amanda all evening. “No, I’m fine. Thanks though.” You wandered back to the hotel across the parking lot, wiping the tears from your face, locking yourself in your room.

 ******************

You were in the hotel lobby making yourself coffee when Sonny came in.

“Morning, [y/n],” he said, smiling at you. “Feeling better today?”

You melted at his smile, tears threatening to form again, but you pushed down your feelings. “Uh, yeah, much better. How’d you sleep? Hopefully you and Rollins weren’t up too late.”

“Nah, it was fine. We may have started a bar fight, though,” Sonny grinned at you, and you giggled, trying to picture him fighting anyone. He went about making two coffees and grabbing an assortment of free breakfast foods. He put everything on a tray and you followed him out, heading towards Amanda’s room as he called Liv to give her an update. But you both froze as a man came out of Amanda’s room, both of them chatting for a moment before he left. And Sonny’s face fell as he turned and went towards his SUV instead.

You gave Amanda’s closed door one last look before you went after Sonny. He stopped at his SUV, putting the tray on top so that he could fish his keys out of his pocket. He sniffled and it was only then you realized he was crying.

“Hey, you okay?” you asked tentatively. But you knew the answer—of course you did. Because you had felt your heart shatter last night.

“Fine,” he grunted, opening the driver’s door and sliding in. This was sure to be a fun ride back to New York. Grabbing the tray he had left on the roof of his SUV, you climbed in behind the passenger seat.

You sat in silence for a few awkward moments before you said softly, “I’m so sorry, Sonny. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.”

 *****************

The ride back was worse, to say the least. The tension in the air was thick, not to mention, you sat in back with Heather, who seemed to be daydreaming about meeting The Monster. You found yourself watching Sonny, or at least, the half of his face that you could see. He was quiet, subdued; so unlike him, and you realized you hated it. You wanted him to be his laughing, jokey self. You tried asking him questions—and Amanda, so you weren’t too obvious—but he wasn’t all there, his mind somewhere far away. Eventually, you gave up. falling into the silence of the drive.

 *****************

Liv mercifully gave the three of you the rest of the day off after delivering Heather to the precinct. You were just debating what to do for dinner when there was a knock at your door. Curious, you unlocked it, opening it to see Sonny shuffling on his feet on your doorstep.

“Son?” you asked in confusion.

He gave you a nervous smile. “Hey, can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah. ‘Course.” You moved out of the way, letting him enter your brownstone.

You both stood there awkwardly before he asked, “have you had dinner yet? If not, I can maybe whip something up? Or I can order takeout?”

“I haven’t yet, no.” Now thoroughly confused, you shrugged, playing along. “Did you have something in mind? I was thinking of ordering a pizza or something….”

“Pizza sounds great. Here, I’ll order. You like pepperoni, right?”

 ******************

You both idly chatted while waiting for the pizza to arrive, the awkward tension still palpable. Sonny didn’t say why he came over and you didn’t ask. The delivery man showed up soon enough, and Sonny insisted that he pay, so you let him. You found some beers in your fridge, offering one to him, which he gratefully accepted. As you ate, you started talking more, just about where you were before transferring to Manhattan, why you decided to come here of all places. The tension in the air subsided, and slowly, Sonny started talking about himself; his family, his recent accomplishment at Fordham—you had started just after he had passed the bar exam, so you didn’t hear much about it—and how much he loved his job.

“So, now that you passed the bar, are you going to leave us for Barba?” you asked. Sonny cocked an eyebrow, a grin on his face. “Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, and you know it,” you giggled, your cheeks burning.

Sonny chuckled at the implication. “I—I don’t know yet. I really do love my job as a detective. But I always wanted to be a lawyer, ya know? And now I can be. But with Mike passing…it just doesn’t seem like the right time.” He took a sip of his beer. “Hey, maybe with you taking over, I’ll be able to. I’d feel less bad leaving the department behind; they won’t be as short-staffed.”

It hurt to think about Sonny leaving; you were just getting to know him. “I still got a long way to go, though. Liv wouldn’t even let me go with you to West Virginia alone. What was it she said? ‘I need someone experienced’ or some shit.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, I was in your shoes before, too. It’ll pass quicker than you can blink.” Sonny spun the bottle in his hands. “Besides, I almost wish it was just us, and that Rollins wasn’t…” he trailed off, his eyes staring at nothing.

You swallowed hard. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Hm? Nah…I mean, she’s my partner, yeah? I have her back, and I know she’s got mine…. We’re close and…yeah, I don’t know.” He looked everywhere but at you, a slight pink tint in his cheeks.

You nodded sympathetically. As much as you wanted him to like you, you just wanted him to be happy. And if she made him happy, then you’d have to live with that. “Being so close with someone for so long, it’s not shocking if feelings…developed. Have you talked to her about it at all?”

He shook his head. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help me with this, but can we stop talking about Rollins? Please?”

“Of course. Sorry…. I got ice cream, if you want some dessert?” you tried.

Sonny sat there for a moment, staring a hole into your floor. “You know what? I think I’m gonna get out of your hair.” He stood, stretching. “Thank you for letting me crash your night for a little bit.”

“You sure? You can stay as long as you need,” you replied, but he was already moving towards your front door, sliding his jacket on.

“Yeah, I’ve taken up enough of your time. See ya at work tomorrow.” And then he gave you that heart-melting smile before he was gone.

 ****************

Whether Fin or Liv could feel the tension in the precinct the next day, you weren’t sure. But Sonny had gone back to his nontalking self, sitting at his desk, working through Heather’s posts. At some point, Amanda invited him to lunch, but he declined. They had a few clipped, whispered words that you didn’t hear, but after she left, Sonny looked upset again.

Standing, you went to the coffee maker, making two cups—one for yourself and one for Sonny. You came back, placing it on his desk, within hands reach. He glanced up at you, and you gave him a soft smile before moving back to your desk, diving in on something to help Barba with his case against Heather.

After another half an hour, Sonny got up, coming over to your desk. “Wanna go grab lunch?”

You looked from him to the mountain of posts and pictures you still had to go through, then back at him. “Please,” you groaned, grabbing your jacket and following him out.

 ****************

For the next two weeks, you and Sonny would get lunch. Or, if it wasn’t possible to take lunch at the same time, you’d bring each other something, switching off each day. You both also seemed to know when the other ran out of coffee, placing a refill on one another’s desk just as you’d finish the last sip. Conversation started to flow easier between you two, and you found that you highly enjoyed just chatting with him. Every now and again, he’d come over to your place, and you’d just talk; mostly about work, sometimes about your families. You still had a crush on him, but you shoved it down, trying to not let it interfere with work, or with your new-found friendship. Though, you noticed with some glee that he no longer looked at Amanda with that sparkle in his eyes.

On Saturday night, Sonny showed up at your doorstep, a 12 pack in one hand, takeout in the other. “Are you not watching the hockey game tonight?” he asked, his Islanders sweater on proudly.

“I, uh, wasn’t planning on it?” you replied, confused. In all your talks, neither of you had mentioned sports, except that Sonny had played basketball as a kid.

“Pffttt. You are now,” he said, pushing into your place. You giggled, following him to your couch. Plopping down next to him, you grabbed a beer while he flipped through the stations until he found the game. He cheers’ed you, then you both took a sip, watching and yelling at the screen. It was hard not to get caught up in the excitement with him, even if you didn’t know all the rules, nor particularly cared about hockey. You just enjoyed spending time with him.

At some point during the first period, Sonny put his arm on the back of the couch, his legs spread. You never understood how someone so lanky could take up so much room, but it made you smile. He just looked so natural, so comfortable on your couch, and you loved it.

“Come on, Lehner! You gotta cover your 5-hole!” Sonny yelled at the screen, groaning as the Islanders let in a goal.

“Uh, explain that to me, please?” you asked, confused.

Sonny sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees, moving closer to you. “Okay, so, ya see how the goalie, Lehner, has his legs so spread? Well, when the Pens shoot, that’s where they aim, ‘cause it’s his weak-spot and they know it. He’s slow to get his glove there and it’s an easy goal.”

“So…the 5-hole is between the legs?” you guessed.

“Exactly; see? You’re a quick learner,” Sonny smiled at you as the game cut to commercial.

You grinned back. “Well, I have a good teacher.”

Sonny’s eyes lit up with an idea. He put his beer down, then turned to face you. “Here, stand.” You cocked an eyebrow at him but obeyed. “Put your arms out and spread your legs…not that far; be comfortable. Okay, so, right here,” –he put his hand to the left side of your face, above your arm— “is the 1-hole. The opposite side here, that’s the 2-hole. Then here,” –he went back to your left side, under your arm this time— “is the 3-hole, and—”

“The opposite is the 4, and between the legs is 5?” you finished.

That lopsided grin was back. “Exactly.” He looked at the screen as the commercials ended. “Ooh, game’s back, here.” Sonny’s hands went to your hips, sending electricity through you. He dragged you back onto the couch next to him, your leg touching his, and his arm around your shoulders. You couldn’t pay attention to the game as your whole body heated, a stupid grin on your face from the closeness. At some point, you relaxed against him, snuggling into his side. If it bothered him, he didn’t say anything. In fact, quite the opposite—when he wasn’t groaning or gesturing at the screen, he had his arm around you, holding you to him.

Once the game was over, Sonny helped you clean up. “Thanks for letting me crash your night again,” he said—the same thing he said every night when he showed up unannounced.

“Anytime,” you replied. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Sober as a fox,” he smiled.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that even a saying?”

“It is now,” he declared, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Really though; I’m fine. Thank you for worrying.”

You walked him to the door, holding it open for him. Sonny stopped just outside your place, turning back around to look at you. “Text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe,” you said softly.

“Okay, I will…. I, uh, wanted to thank you. Not just for tonight, but for every night…and lunches, and coffees, and just—letting me be me for a little.” He gave you the sweetest smile, and you thought your chest was going to burst.

“Yeah, anytime, Sonny. I want you to feel…safe with me,” you replied.

“I do…I really do.”

You were leaning against your doorframe, and he had one hand on the wall next to it, leaning against it. Slowly, he leaned forward, his face getting closer to yours. Swallowing, and praying you weren’t misinterpreting, you leaned in, too, until your lips met in a soft, chaste kiss. Sonny’s mouth was gentle against yours, his lips smooth, and you stood up on your tiptoes, pressing yourself harder against him, afraid that he’d realize what was happening and that he’d pull away, disgusted. And though he did pull away, his eyes were still closed in bliss, a small smile on his face, one that slowly grew the longer you looked, making your own smile appear.

“You sure you don’t want to stay the night?” you asked, your voice hopeful.

Sonny looked deeply into your eyes, then to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Well, if you insist, maybe I can be persuaded to crash your night a little longer.”

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #thank you Karen for letting me know PScan is an Islander fan #cause I made Sonny a Bruins fan first #I may have forgotten that the Devil Ray's existed #Anonymous

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Something Held | Feeding Habits Update #8

Hi all!

Not me not realizing it’s been 3 months since I posted a Feeding Habits update hahahahahaha. Today let’s chat chapter nine, SOMETHING HELD. This also marks the last chapter in Harrison’s POV so prepare to say goodbye to this icon!  TW: body horror, mental illness, trauma

Just a reminder: This is my original work and plagiarism of any form will not be tolerated.

Scene outline, excerpts & a little reflection on making difficult decisions that my not particularly benefit the book but benefit you as the writer under the cut because this update is GIGANTIC.

General taglist (please ask to be added or removed):

@if-one-of-us-falls, @qatarcookie, @chloeswords, @alicewestwater, @laughtracksonata, @shylawrites, @ev–writes, @jaydewritesfiction, @jennawritesstories @eowynandfaramir, @august-iswriting​, @aetherwrites​

Scene Breakdown

Scene A:

It has been two weeks since Lonan found Harrison at his shared apartment with Suzanna and things are getting strange. Lonan and Suz are getting closer, Harrison is getting more distant and slowly losing it. One morning, Harrison wakes hearing Lonan and Suz’s laughter, and crawls to the kitchen to investigate. When he reaches them, Suz is evening out Lonan’s hacked haircut and they’re both sobbing.

Scene B:

Shortly after this bizarre encounter, Suzanna steps out of the apartment for a breather because her son is sort of terrifying her! So Lonan and Harrison double-team to clean up Lonan’s hair shavings. Harrison begins eating the hair while Lonan stares and they have a conversation about the state of their friendship.

Scene Ba:

This scene is gross and confusing! More hair is ingested. My god.

Scene Bb:

After the above ordeal, both boys rinse off because they’ve been rolling?? around?? in??? hair?? but also?? things don’t stop being a little gross

Scene C:

An air of calm finally settles over the apartment. Lonan brews earl grey tea for him and Harrison to share and Harrison asks if he abandoned Lonan in the final chapter of Moth Work. Lonan doesn’t really answer this question so Harrison continues on his confused, but finally lucid (one-sided) conversation, admitting he understands he burdens his mother, who still has not returned. They circle back to the question of abandonment and Lonan answers Harrison the way he wants to be answered (yes), and this is a moment of freeing, where he feels some sort of responsibility in this irresponsible new life he’s led in NYC. They sort of agree to be friends again.

Scene D:

The boys head into the city to find Suzanna, heading to a bakery near the Hudson River. Lonan drives in his used car, a strange experience since Harrison has not seen him drive in years. Taking the opportunity, he searches through the car and finds a map in the glove compartment. The map is erratically scribbled over and it takes him to moment to realize this is Lonan’s map and the first indication that Lonan, who he has assumed is this stable, perfect person, is not as unscathed as he seems.

The boys pass the waterfront and Lonan nearly crashes the car into an oncoming truck. Harrison regains control of the vehicle tucking them into a side street. Shaken, Lonan apologizes for the mess he’s created both physically from his nosebleed and between Harrison and his mother, which gets Harrison a little antsy because he doesn’t like the suggestion that he’s going to leave. Lonan clarifies, stating he won’t if that’s what Harrison wants.

Scene E:

Later, everyone is back at home and Harrison wakes up to a Lonan-less bed. He gets up to investigate the strange dripping coming from the bathroom and opens the door to find Lonan precariously teetering over a sink filled with water. Harrison, concerned, moves him away and tries to ask why Lonan is presumably going underwater, but doesn’t push. They both stand on opposite sides of the bathroom until the sun rises.

My process:

Honestly, writing this chapter was a huge up and down. The first half of it came much easier to me, but the rest was a literal hellfire to get through. I think I was incredibly fatigued with writing in Harrison’s POV as I’d been writing it since June (I finished this chapter in either December or January). This book has been a pain in the ass to write despite me liking what it is, and I really think it being the only place I’ve physically “gone” since the pandemic makes it even harder to write. I felt claustrophobic in Harrison’s POV since I’ve been writing it for half a year, and in a lil ~breakdown~ my beautiful sister reminded me of something she’d previously told me, “it's not about what works, it's about what you want”.

Let’s chat about this for a sec! I think I was watching a Harmony Nice video on her “hard-to-swallow” self-care, and she basically outline (I’m paraphrasing here) that it’s critical we care for ourselves in ways that might not necessarily be easy to do. Honestly, leaving Harrison’s POV is one of those hard-to-swallow self-care things I literally had to do because my mental health was not happy with me! Y’all know my boys are very close to me, and I’m not picking favourites but Lonan is 2500 times easier for me to write with at the moment. I think Harrison’s situation and how he deals with it is much too similar to mine but in a way that is difficult to place (Lonan and I are unfortunately similar but in a way that is easier for me to understand about myself!). From the beginning of writing his POV I’ve been in Struggleville, but kept pushing through hoping the next chapter would be “the one”. Not to burst my own bubble but there is no such thing in the state of mind I was in! I was pushing myself to find something that doesn’t exist because my brain was really not equipped to do what I needed it to do. I really, really did not want to quit on Harrison’s POV, but I had to, not because I don’t like him (he’s my baby) but because I needed a moment to myself. I felt way too seen in ways I don’t really know how to address in myself, so writing him was horribly frustrating at all times (my fault, not his).

My characters really do live in my head rent-free lol. They live in there! They take up space! They take up energy! They take up concentration, and resources I need for myself! Empathy is so integral to my process, that I give a little part of myself in everything I write. This is a blessing because I really get to dig my heels into the mind of another person, but a curse because I’m not a machine (and sometimes I forget that). It is a lot of emotional energy and labour to give everything you have to fictional people. I don’t think an artist needs to be tortured to create good art (this is not it!) but I never truly practiced this well? In my attempt to be empathetic, I was torturing myself a little bit, not going to lie!

So to combat this, I decided I needed a change. Hence, this chapter is imperfect and probably needs some stuff added to it, and while I’ve only written little of Lonan’s second POV, I’m feeling a lot better! It’s nice to get “outside” in a different place lmao this is so sad (pandemic writing things).

Excerpts:

I wrote the beginning of this in a livestream I hosted on my YouTube channel! There’s also a shoutout here to my dragon tree Lisa <3 miss u boo

Two weeks go by. Lonan sleeps on the couch. Harrison wakes up at dawn—no earlier, no later. Suzanna buys a plant: a Madagascar dragon tree she names Lisa. June grows into the collar. Lonan plays sudoku in the newspaper. Harrison learns to bake focaccia, gluten-free, whole wheat. Suzanna learns to palm read, tells Lonan he’s experienced great betrayal (they stop the reading immediately; Lonan goes back to the newspapers). Harrison begins burning incense at sunrise—frankincense. The dragon tree nearly dies (Lonan saves it). It rains every weekday that contains the letter T. Lonan shifts stacks of soggy newspapers onto the breakfast table, answers crosswords with the help of Suzanna (four across, nine letters, Something held). Harrison burns a baguette. Suzanna buys a hanging basket of pothos. The power goes out for two days and the icebox floods the kitchen tile (Lonan mops it with old newspapers, the ink running like jellyfish). June barks for the first time. Harrison eats a bundle of dried bay leaves. Suzanna waters the plants with rainwater, icewater, wrung into a coffee tin. Harrison leaves the stove on while sautéing shallots (he eats them whole). Lonan wakes up feverish and fills out four newspaper crosswords, then falls asleep on the coffee table. Suzanna moulds panna cotta in coffee mugs and shares the batch with Lonan when they won’t tip out. Lonan teaches her how to propagate the pothos and soon they have twenty empty cans of cuttings poking from the windowsills. They rearrange the furniture, the couch facing the kitchen instead of the TV, the dining table right outside the bathroom, then put it all back the next day. They birdwatch from the tiny window with binoculars and a magnifying glass. They sort coupons. Whittle soaps. Watch Norwegian films without the subtitles. Discuss cliff diving. Make matching anklets (blue beads, elastic string, the plastic clacking how Harrison knows they’re coming). All of this they do as Harrison lies on his bed for two weeks, counting the corners of his ceiling and trying to determine a way to multiply them telepathically.

This is the very next paragraph!

At first he assumes they’re laughing. The sun nearly rising between other high rises, blotting his room with dawn. This is not a surprise. They are probably making pancakes out of buckwheat and discussing the hilarity of whole grains. They are probably laughing at store-bought cherry preserves. Too sour. Their cheeks puckered. But then the laughs get louder, and the sun rises higher and it’s not laughing at all, but gasping.

Here’s Harrison crawling!! is this straight out of the exorcist probably!

Harrison’s instinct is to crawl. As if his smallness against the ground will stop anyone from hearing him, even before he unlocks his door. On hands and knees he shuffles from his bed to his doorframe, edges the door open with his shoulder. On hands and knees he hikes through the hallway, the gasping getting louder, shuffling until he sees them. Lonan sitting on one of the kitchen stools, a grocery bag wound around his throat. Suzanna clacking scissors in two hands so their blades ping in the sun. Her fingers loped around his hair, knuckle-deep, the blades snipping, the gasps growing, them both sobbing, the hair falling, the sun stalking, their bodies rocking. Harrison takes it in from his crawl. Experiences it all on his knees.

So this excerpt seems really you know, normal:

They clean up the hair. Harrison with the dustpan, Lonan with the broom. Harrison still kneels. Lonan still cries. The only thing that has changed since crawling into the kitchen is that Suzanna is taking a walk around the apartment complex. She needs air. Room. If she cries long enough, a cigarette. So Lonan sweeps. Harrison collects. This repeats.

The kitchen smells of nutmeg. Freshly grated from a whole club over espresso, Harrison imagines. He smells this as he tracks Lonan with the dustpan, hovering its open belly for clippings of hair. And Lonan is so compliant, brushes cuttings of himself onto the plastic surface so Harrison can trash it. As Harrison looks on from his knees, Lonan diffuses in sunlight, the window illuminating only his edges. A body so familiar Harrison knows exactly where it flares with light or absorbs it. A body with skin like mulberry silk. A body he could recreate in charcoal with his eyes closed. His archangel translucent and luminescing.

Skip this excerpt if you don’t want to read about Harrison eating hair!! i’m sorry!

Harrison picks a bundle of fallen hair from the dustpan. It’s airy from being recently shampooed, smells faintly of pear, maybe even ginger. This hair, touched by a woman, or a few women, and cut by one, or a few, in different contexts. Eliza’s hands deveining the roots, and then Suzanna’s, trying to fix them. So Harrison eats it. That bundle like a toothpicked cube of cheese. He puts it in his mouth and swallows.

Lonan watches like he’s unconcerned. He watches this feral animal—Harrison must be something feral, starved of something and ravaged by that hunger. Chewing mouthfuls of hair like that will quell of him of what is missing, if there even is anything missing, something unidentifiable in this bland circuit of New York City, this time-loop of sonhood, this fresh start a dousing of flatness. As Harrison eats, he understands he consumes that something like it’s holy communion, reuniting with that something by absorbing it. And still, that hunger moves him, from finishing the dustpan of hair, and closer to Lonan.

“Do you think I’m a bad friend?” Harrison asks, wringing the corner of his lips clean from loose hairs. From this perspective, Harrison on his knees collecting hair, Lonan’s eyes look bluer. Maybe their saturation has nothing to do with the angle, but Harrison feels this is true; his eyes are so crystalline, they are temptingly edible. Like two plump blueberries. Or a matching set of clear glass marbles. Harrison swallows. He repeats, “Do you think I’m a bad friend?”

Lonan swallows, adjusts his grip on the broom. “We’d have to be friends for me to answer that.”

“Aren’t we?”

And here’s the rest of this scene!

“You’re my mother’s friend,” Harrison says. “She trusts you.” He crawls closer to Lonan. “You’ve got secrets. Rituals. Tell me her favourite finger-food and who she wants to marry.”

“I don’t know your mother that well.”

Harrison wraps a handle around Lonan’s ankle. A muscle there jumps like a dolphin breaching the water. He’s memorized this plane of skin, could rebuild it from single grains of sand while blindfolded. He furls his hands across its surface, unfurls.

“You garden with her,” Harrison says. “You share a plate for dessert.”

“She’s kind to me.”

“You cook her breakfast.” Harrison tugs on Lonan’s ankle, knowing it won’t raze him, knowing he’ll come down anyway. “You know the exact temperature she drinks her coffee down to the last digit.”

“I’m trying to be hospitable.”

“You’re trying to be a son.”

Lonan kneels. Crouching so they’re huddled over each other, so it’s nearly impossible to distinguish one body from the other, which one sinks, which one rises.

“My mother’s only got one son to live with,” Harrison says, his voice thin from a clogged throat. He reaches for Lonan’s scalp, scrapes a line down the centre, now an even plane of cropped hair. “And it isn’t me.”

“You’re unstable,” Lonan says, burrowing his face either into a cabinet or Harrison’s shoulder—neither can tell. “You won’t let yourself have friends.”

Farther, toward the tile they go, a pile of hair scattering. “My mother wants me to forgive you by replacing me with you.”

“She’s grieving,” Lonan says.

Harrison loses his hands. He doesn’t know where they disappear to, if he touches skin or tile. “I haven’t died,” he says. Skin or tile. Skin or tile.

Here’s an excerpt from scene C ft. this memoir bit from the time I was shocked that this university I visited had real FANCY teabags:

Lonan brews tea. Earl grey, from a tin. Harrison doesn’t know why he expects it to come from a bag. An individual paper sachet, or if he’s lucky, one of those fancy ones woven from nylon. But it’s from a tin. Two teaspoons into the bottom of a single mug they pass back and forth, wordless at the kitchen table. Strung in the bathroom, Harrison’s t-shirt hang-dries, nearly figure-like, an unfilled phantom. He tugs a throw around his shoulders and stares at his hands. Each crest of cuticle. Each bulb of knuckle. Each maze of fingerprints.

He is material. This is fact. Not just outlines. He’s got skin that goes pinkish when pinched, a pulse that juts from his wrist, two eyes that burn at the scent of lavender, ten fingers. But as he holds his hands up, studying them in the faint moonlight, it is difficult to believe his tangibility. In the city, he has lived as a haze. Fogging over grocery stores, eateries, nondescript. Fresh start has always implied an air of zest, a zing that should have fueled him to plant roots in this restart. But Harrison is rotten, aphid infected, overwatered, underwatered, then not watered at all. He flexes his fingers. He pops the joints. He tries to press his pinkie to the back of his hand. But none of this brings him back to himself. His hands continue feeling like someone else’s. His body invisibly marred in some way he can’t reverse, disconnected in retaliation.

Harrison reflecting on his relationship with his mother:

Suzanna has never left him alone this long, and to her detriment. He imagines her now, living the life she always should’ve lived, the life she lived before he crosscut his way to her most important thing. She’s probably at a salon, having her hair twirled with a round brush, making dinner reservations at some place always too expensive for two (extra points if it has a French name, more if she has to wait a half hour before getting a table). When she talks to her stylist, she doesn’t mention a son, but plans to travel up the west coast, all the way into Canada if she’s feeling adventurous. She’ll buy crime novels she’ll never read at duty-free, reapply a lipstick that cost her a paycheck in the reflection of a hand-dryer. After the salon, she’ll meet a woman at a wine bar, converse about children, and still not mention a son. Suzanna’s singleness will be a celebration.

The boys finally trucing it out <3

When Harrison finally opens his eyes, Lonan is staring at him. His eyes two reels of the Pacific. They cycle in blue. So much of him has changed, and yet he is still the same. Beyond the haircut, Lonan isn’t that much different. He can’t be much different. But as Harrison searches, splaying his palm on the wet table, he knows this is untrue. Lonan is hollower than he was last summer. A little more haunted. They have this in common, then.

“Can we be friends?” Harrison asks. With his pinkie, he finds himself writing against the damp table just as he did Lonan’s scalp not too long ago. Lonan’s gaze follows each loop of each letter, Harrison’s steady left hand.

Lonan is consumed studying what Harrison has written, where each letter connects in near-cursive scrawl. After a moment, he nods, once, twice, and then reverts to staring at the table’s new inscription. On its surface are two words: something held.

The boys in the car like old times <3

Lonan drives. This is strange because Harrison has not seen Lonan drive a car in over a year. Usually, Harrison takes the wheel, but tonight he guides them through the city, in search of Suzanna. His car is clean. This isn’t unexpected. A cherry-coloured hatchback that rattles whenever he makes a left turn. It smells vaguely of cotton air-freshener and the undercurrent of cigarettes.

“You still smoke?” Harrison pokes at the plastic nob for the radio, and it crackles to life. Synth and electric guitar pulse in 4/4 time.

“I bought it used.”

They’ve agreed to get to know one another while they search for Suzanna. Another restart, some attempt at an honest hour. As Lonan changes lanes, Harrison pokes open the car’s glove compartment. A tin of nicotine gum falls on the mat. A hot pink feather pokes from underneath the driver’s manual. Harrison hauls out both, runs the feather along the gum tin, then the back of his hand, and then Lonan’s cheek. When that rouses nothing, he unlocks the tin and removes a slit of gum. Right as he’s about to pop it in his mouth, Lonan says, “I wouldn’t eat that.”

“Why?” Harrison asks. “Did you lace it?”

“Like I said, I bought the car used.”

Harrison puts the gum back, and then the feather. He sticks his hand farther into the glove compartment, feels around until he drags out a map of the state, bilgy and half torn. He unfolds it, careful to avoid the rips, and flattens it against the dashboard. Almost immediately, it wilts against the cold, faded from time in the sun. It’s been marked up. Half with pencil, half with a red ballpoint pen. After a few minutes, Harrison understands the previous owner’s route. Or at least he does at first. Following the red pen arrows, they started at Long Island, then reached Manhattan. Then a much longer arrow takes him from Manhattan to Geneva, and then Buffalo. And then the red pen circles, once, twice, three times, four times, and what is in the centre doesn’t even have a city name. What it does say is HELP, in all-caps, each letter then melting into an illegible scrawl. Harrison sees bits of words: Luke, woe, hands, clay, guard, stray, each wobbly and disappearing into the other, becoming cities of their own, destroying others. He tries to understand the route, but the farther he pours over the map, recircling each line with his finger, the more lost he gets in the ink.

“Is this your map?” Harrison asks. There is no proof that it is. Even the handwriting is all wrong. Ragged. Confused. Desperate. Not like Lonan’s careful, hesitant print.

“Like I said, I bought the car used.”

“But is it your map?” Harrison asks again. Gently, he creases the paper and then slots it back into the glove compartment. Outside, they pass three convenience stores in a row, a flock of couples emerging from a bowling alley, tipsy and cradling leftover deep dish pizzas and mozzarella sticks. They pass two more convenience stores before Lonan finally answers.

“I was confused,” he says.

“This is more than confused,” Harrison says. “It’s disturbed.”

“I’m not disturbed.”

“But something is wrong with you.”

Lonan slows at a crosswalk. A group of teenaged girls whisk by in glitter and lip gloss.

“Yes,” he says.

This is Harrison trying to stop Lonan’s nosebleed after their bizarre swerve which I think is kind of <3 tendy <3

Harrison reaches for him. One hand on the back of his neck, and the other reared toward the red stream. His touch is tactful, so faint his fingerprints wouldn’t even be left behind, but still, the dabbing with his jacket’s hem is enough to redirect the blood’s flow from Lonan’s upper lip to the cuff of leather. The radio is still on, garbled like an unmassing of crepe paper lanterns.

This is the final excerpt for this update that takes us to the very end of the chapter! Harrison has just found Lonan supposedly head-first in the sink and though he asks at first why he is doing that, takes an alternate approach as the chapter closes:

Harrison gets up, his knees popping like gnawed bubble gum. He decides he will handle Lonan at a distance, if he chooses to handle him at all. Like a timid pet owner trying to tame their suddenly-rabid yorkie. Like a friend not trying to tip the full glass. To let its contents film at its surface, but never spill.

Somewhere in the apartment, Suzanna probably listens to them. If Harrison didn’t know her better, he’d imagine her pressed neatly against the door, waiting to hear the shuffle of their bodies or the tang of an argument. Instead, he imagines her at the kitchen table, gripping a glass of water for so long, half of it evaporates.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Harrison says, stepping back until his spine hits the counter’s lip. He curls his fingers under the granite. Looks toward the window, now a faint periwinkle. Lonan heaves. His fingers caging his face, an animal restrained. They stand there until the sun rises.

So that’s it for this gigantic update! I have like four short stories to update you on so I hope to be back soon!

—Rachel

#writing #writerblr #amwriting #writeblr #fostered #mothwork #writingupdates #feedinghabits

[ahkaahshi]

12:27 AM [kuroo tetsurou x reader]

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem reader (platonic relationship)

genre: fluff and angst

warning(s): swearing, brief mentions of alcohol consumption

word count: 2.8k

overview: you go on one, final late night food run with your best friend to commemorate your last evening in tokyo

notes: as stated above, the reader and kuroo’s relationship here is purely platonic. it just felt right. also, this one’s a bit more dialogue-heavy than usual, but it’s intentional :) hope you enjoy!

At 12:27 AM, Kuroo’s standing in the kitchen, poring over an open cupboard of food—none of which seems to fulfill his cravings. Tapping the toes of his house slippers against the tiled floor, he sends a glance over at where you’re sitting on the couch, watching the movie he’d put on with rapt attention. His attempts at successfully blocking out thoughts of what’s to come tomorrow are foiled once more when his gaze settles on the luggage waiting patiently in the entryway.

“Hey, (f/n),” he calls out to you, shutting the cabinets in front of him and turning away from them. The eyebrow you raise at him expectantly has him continuing, “Whaddya say to going on one, last late-night food run in the city with your old pal?”

With a snicker, you toss the mountains of blankets off your body and stand up as you say, “You act as if today’s my last day on the planet, Tetsu.”

“Seriously, though, who knows when we’ll be able to do this again?” he wonders, “Might as well live like it’s your last day on the planet, even if it’s just for a night, right?”

You shake your head as you pull on an old Nekoma hoodie out of your backpack that matches the one he’s wearing. “Quit it, dumbass; you’re gonna make me all sentimental.”

A grin spreads across his lips and he gives you a playful shake once the two of you have stepped into your shoes and left his home. It warms your heart but shatters it at the same time, since you’re painfully aware of the fact that tonight will be the last time you see it in person for what could be months. And if his words hadn’t already made you a bit emotional, the drive through Tokyo would’ve done the trick.

He rolls the windows of his car down, letting in the cool, nighttime air that whistles past as the vehicle picks up speed. In an effort he wants to seem as spontaneous as possible, he plays music from a playlist the two of you had made together back when you were in high school, shouting and dancing along to the lyrics of every song with you with an enthusiasm that has you doubling over in your seat with laughter.

Every stoplight gives other drivers and pedestrians buzzing around the bustling downtown area the opportunity to shoot you judgmental looks or those of entertainment, but you’re too busy living in the moment with him that you barely notice or even care, for that matter. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you don’t bother to ask. Instead, you find yourself lost in admiring the dazzling array of lights passing you by during your drive through the lively city. Knowing you’ll be in a new one by this time tomorrow has you gazing upon everything you’d simply passed by before without a second thought with a newfound appreciation and lingering nostalgia.

Eventually, after Kuroo’s impressed you by maneuvering his car into a tighter parking spot than you thought he could fit in, you find your destination is a small restaurant tucked away in one of the back alleys aglow with neon signs. Though it’s packed to the brim with other patrons enjoying a late-night meal, there’s plenty of conversation between you and your friend to fill the time you spend waiting for a table.

Once you’re inside, you bask in the warmth heavy with the delicious smell of fresh food as the two of you sit together and reminisce over steaming bowls of ramen. “You know one thing I’ll never forget?” Kuroo begins, fishing out a few plump noodles with his chopsticks. You glance over at him expectantly while you blow on the broth in your spoon and he chuckles before adding, “The look on Lev’s face when he hit you in the back of the head during warmups and you gave him the coldest stare I’ve ever seen.”

“I felt so bad when I realized it was him, though, ‘cause I thought it was you!” you defend.

Kuroo’s unoccupied hand flies to his chest to complete the feigned look of shock on his face. “And you were gonna look at me like that if it was?”

“You were always aiming for me, Tetsu.”

“You were always on the court!”

“Helping Coach toss and keeping hitters like you from fucking up your ankles by coming down on stray volleyballs, you asshole.”

Kuroo shrugs and comments, “I never hit you hard, though,” and moves another serving of noodles to his lips. “Just wanted to keep our beloved manager on her toes is all.”

With an incredulous scoff, you retort, “Yeah, you did that, alright. And even well into uni, too.”

There’s a pause in your conversation as you both take a moment to enjoy your food before Kuroo questions, “Could you please submit your evidence to the court?”

“Halloween,” you state, (e/c) eyes laser focused on his own, hazel ones. He’s narrowing them, as if he’s trying to remember the event in question, so you help him out by continuing, “You and Kou were insistent on coming with me to a raging house party that night. The two of you got so, annoyingly drunk that you were laughing at the top of your lungs like hyenas about videos of pets dressed up in costumes at three in the morning.”

He raises a finger contemplatively. “I might’ve blacked out, but that does sound like something I’d do.”

“In that case, you probably forgot about all the noise complaints I got, then; and how the owner of the place came to scold me in person.”

A bashful grin forms on his lips at the memory you’ve reminded him of, and he concedes, “Alright, alright; we’ve both done a lot of stupid shit in the time we’ve known each other, so let’s just leave it at that. Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to remind you of the time you lost your bikini top in the ocean and were too mortified to move, so you made me swim in and get it, right?”

“This conversation is over,” you declare, face growing hot with embarrassment as a vivid image of the moment in question flashes across your mind.

As the two of you continue enjoying your delicious meals and reminiscing about other, more positive experiences you’ve shared together, you feel the knot that’s been settled in the pit of your stomach for what seems to be weeks now make itself known once more. In spite of your outward calmness and enthusiasm, you were starting to have trouble hiding your nervousness. The last thing you’d wanted was for anyone to notice and try to talk you out of your decision, but Kuroo’s far more perceptive than most and knows you well enough to understand what you’re thinking.

When the two of you finish your meals and find the strength to scoot out of your chairs, he notices the way you gaze longingly at your surroundings. He catches sight of the gentle glimmer of emotion in your eyes as you request that he drive you anywhere he wants—just to hold off on going back to his place for a bit longer. And each time he takes his eyes off the road ahead to cast a glance in your direction, he finds your attention fixated on all the buildings and people that pass by.

But it’s not until the two of you arrive at a nearly empty parking lot outside a large, sprawling park that he decides to bring up the question of what’s on your mind. “Hey, (f/n),” he says, making you turn on your heels to face him where you’d been standing a few feet away from his car, watching the twinkling lights in the distance. He looks so carefree, perched on the hood of his vehicle, hands shoved into the pockets of his black joggers, whereas you’re much more on edge, trying to keep your foot-tapping against the loose gravel to a minimum.

“Hmm?”

He purses his lips for a moment before answering slowly, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while—the last day we’d spend together. And it’s one of those things that you just can’t really prepare yourself for, no matter how hard you try to, y’know?” The muscles around your brow relax, and your expression becomes more curious upon being pulled out of your worrisome thoughts. “I know how I’m feeling, but how are you holding up?”

Your fingers interlace themselves as you bite the inside of your cheek. Even if you want to, there’s no bullshitting Kuroo. Not when he’s seen you in every state you can imagine and is often one to pick up on your feelings before you’re even aware they exist, though he often brings them to your attention with a more lighthearted approach than most would think appropriate to take. Doesn’t mean he cares any less, however; and you can see the genuine concern in his hazel eyes shining a paler color in the white moonlight.

“I’m excited,” you tell him. With the way your heart’s pounding in your chest, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear its pulse in your voice. Moving towards him to occupy the space on the hood beside him, you take a deep breath and look up at him. “But I’m terrified at the same time.” It’s instantaneous, the way you lean into his touch the moment he slings his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Since we were kids, I was always talking about wanting to move to another country, remember?”

“I thought you just said that to make me sad whenever I pissed you off.”

You lightly swat his chest and argue, “Oh, be quiet.” But, before you can continue with what you were going to say, you find yourself focused on the words he’d spoken instead. “Wait, did you actually mean that?”

With a gentle chuckle, he shrugs. “Nah, I was joking.” The adam’s apple in his throat bobs when he turns his attention towards the sky and admits, “But I always did get a little sad whenever you mentioned it. Still do.” A moment of silence filled with the distant sounds of traffic and the chirping of insects ensues during which you watch your fingers toy with the aglets hanging off your hoodie. “I mean, come on, now; what kinda kid wants one of his best friends to move away when he knows how big the world is but how singular and small he is?”

“Tetsu,” you murmur softly, feeling your lip tremble with emotion and your eyes sting with oncoming tears, “You’ve always been there for me through, like, everything. Or, at least, it feels that way. Part of the reason why I’m so scared of leaving is because I’m gonna be all by myself, in a brand-new place, just thrown into the deep end of things and having to teach myself how to swim all over again. But another part of it is because I’m gonna be away from you. And even now, as an adult, I still don’t wanna move away from my best friend.”

He doesn’t even have to look at you or hear you sniffle to know you’re crying, and he tightens his grip around you, placing his other hand on your back. Appreciative of the gesture, you bury your face in the soft fabric of his sweatshirt and pull him into an embrace so you can hold onto him for a few, long moments that you wish didn’t have to end.

“Hey, it’s all good as long as you don’t forget about me once you make it big out there, okay?” His tone is teasing and lighthearted, as per usual, but you can hear the subtlest break in his voice that has more tears cascading down your cheeks and pooling in the creases of his sweater.

“I’m not gonna forget you—I could never—but, what if I can’t do it?” you whimper, “What if I get there and I hate the job, or I hate my coworkers, or I hate life over there? Then I’ll be stuck out there with no one.”

Rubbing your back gently, he assures you, “If worst comes to worst, you can come back home and regroup. You’ll always have a place to stay here. Well… unless I get super famous and end up being offered a job to travel around the world.” You can’t help but snicker at his comment, and neither can he. “Even if I’m not physically there, I’ll always be there in spirit. And don’t discount the possibility of me showing up at your doorstep, since we know I have a tendency to do that.”

“Like a stray cat I keep feeding.”

“Exactly. Maybe you’ll even get two if I can convince Kenma to come with me. We’ll have to see how long he can survive off his Switch alone.”

Your bodies both shake with laughter for a few moments before you pull away from each other, and his hands slide onto your shoulders to give them a firm squeeze. Keeping your head lowered for a moment, you drag the sleeves of your hoodie across your eyes to wipe up any stray tears you hadn’t left on his. When your gazes meet, though, the confidence in his almost entirely dissolves the knot that’s been building in your stomach for so long.

“Hey.” He shakes you gently, and you jokingly let your head roll about, eliciting more snickers from both of your mouths before looking at him expectantly and with your full attention. “Don’t let the worst-case scenario hold you back from something that could be great. You’re so quick to think about how likely the worst possible thing is to happen, but why can’t the best be just as likely?”

Playfully, you tease, “Wow, seems like someone’s trying to get me outta here,” with a smirk.

“(F/n),” he sighs, sending a long plume of steam upwards from his mouth. Giving you a firm pat on the arm, he admits, “I’m gonna miss you like hell. But this is what you’ve been wanting for so long, and I want you to do it so badly. Partly so I can say that I have a vacation property abroad, but mostly because you know I want the best for you, since you deserve it.”

Your lip quakes once again at his confession, but you manage to blink back the tears this time and crack a smile. “Okay. But if you’d better not get even the slightest bit sentimental or teary-eyed tomorrow or else I’m gonna cry like a bitch all the way through the airport.”

“Eyes will be dry as long as you promise to video call me the second you land so I can go on the cab ride with you and see the whole, cute apartment reveal thing that’s so trendy these days.”

A mixture of a giggle and a gentle sob leaves your mouth as you watch his figure distorted by your swimming vision rise from the hood of his car. You feel warm hands on your wrists pulling you up onto your feet before you’re ensconced in another tight hug while Kuroo rocks from one foot to the other.

“You’re gonna be fine.”

After giving you a squeeze hard enough to push the air out of your lungs, he releases his grasp around you and opens the door on the passenger’s side so you can climb in and retreat from the coldness of the night. “With all these emotions plus the food, I’m gonna knock out so fast when we get home,” you mumble with a soft sniffle, reaching for the packet of tissues in his glove compartment once he’s settled in the driver’s seat.

He scoffs and furrows his eyebrows at you as he sticks his keys in the ignition. “Who said you were sleeping tonight? You’ve got the whole plane ride tomorrow to do that.”

“Alright, you can’t blame me for being cranky, then.”

With a shake of the head, he shifts the car into reverse so he can back out of the parking lot and start the journey back to his home. While the music you’d been blasting earlier plays softly from the speakers, you rest your head on the door once more to watch your familiar surroundings breeze by outside.

“Tetsurou.” You glance over at him and his head of haphazardly styled hair that you’re sure won’t fit on the screen of your phone the next time you see him, and his eyes meet yours when he brings the car to a halt at a stop sign. “Thanks for spending my so-called last night on the planet with me.”

extra that didn’t make the cut: kuroo didn’t shed a tear at the airport until after he thought you’d left. but you’d actually just hid somewhere and caught him with watery eyes. you still video called him as soon as you landed, though.

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[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

C A L L  M E  C A T, chapter nine

January 2017

We had time off near the holidays, space for all of us was good. The rush of our record deal and newfound fame was suffocating in moments, exhilarating in others. 

Niall journeyed back to Ireland and Miles back up north to Massachusetts. Jules’ parents were only in Connecticut, and Harry had already made the trip back to the UK to see his family. 

By the time the New Year came, I was sick of being in Florida with no friends and minimal interaction from my parents. Our last night together as a band was the night of my drunken exit, something that we all knew was awkward and tense but didn’t dare to mention the next morning. 

Being around my parents made me drink less just because I feared becoming them. Which was probably good for both my liver and my mind, but bad for my emotional state. It had been a few weeks since I’d spoken to Miles or Harry. Jules would check in just to make sure I hadn’t murdered my parents yet, Niall sent pictures of his nephew and the pints he was drinking back home. 

I sat on the back patio a few days into 2017, sunglasses on to block the sun and hoping to get a bit of a glow on the unseasonably warm day. My phone buzzed beside me and pulled my attention back to the pool in front of me, my parents were both at work and I finally had a minute without them to gather my thoughts. 

Nothing about the sunshine state made me want to stay, especially not the locked door down the hall that had been untouched since 2011. The bed was likely unmade and I was sure dust had collected on the trophies that lined his shelves. 

I picked up my phone and read the message that had just come through, one that made me want to abandon my home state more than I already did. 

Harry Styles (1:03pm): Random question, are you still in Florida?

I looked around the backyard, boats buzzed by on the water and the waves glimmered in the sun.

Cat Fonder (1:04pm): Unfortunately

Harry Styles (1:04pm): Me too.

I pulled up the phone and read it twice before I pressed the phone icon near his name. It rang once before he answered. 

“Hi!”

“What are you doing in Florida?”

“Well--bit of an airline issue, so I ended up on a flight here instead of New York. I’m stuck here overnight.”

“That sucks,” I admitted, turning on my side on the pool lounge chair. “What are you going to do?”

“Well,” he took a pause, but I could tell he’d already decided. “You’re going to come get me at the airport.”

“What makes you think that?”

He laughed on the other end of the phone. “I mean, you wouldn’t let me sleep overnight in the Miami airport would you?” I let out a groan for him to hear, laughed a little when he threw in: “I know you have enough bedrooms at your parents house.”

Marta, our longtime housekeeper and an adopted member of our family, slid open the door to the living room. “Do you want lunch?”

“In a few!” I called back to her. “Harry--you can Uber here if you want.”

“Oh just come pick me up--how far do you live from the airport?”

“From Miami? Like an hour and a half!”

“Which is exactly why I’m not paying for an Uber, Catherine.”

I exhaled through my nose, licked at my lips, already regretting the decision to take one of my dad’s cars into a Miami afternoon. The air was sticky and the climb in my heartbeat made me feel stupid and childish. Harry’s chastising on the other end didn’t help. 

“Did you hang up on me? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Cause I’m trying to think of a plan to be in a car with you and not kill you.”

He let out a belly laugh at this, noise from the busy airport terminal was seeping through the speaker and into my ears. “I’ll make sure we don’t lay any hands on each other.”

Goosebumps rose on my skin, his voice almost melodic when he said see you soon!

I grabbed the keys and took a sandwich for the road from Marta, prayed to some type of higher power that I didn’t rear end someone or fuck up my dad’s Mercedes. He drove the Tesla to work, which was good, honestly, because I wouldn’t even know how to turn that one on. 

It took me only an hour and fifteen, which didn’t seem like a result of my timid driving but more the lack of traffic and time of day. When I rolled up to the baggage claim and saw him standing on the curb with sunglasses pushed up and a hood over his head, I rolled the window down. 

“How’s the disguise working?”

He made a face at me, stuffed his suitcase in the backseat and climbed in front. “You joke, but there were girls who literally cried when they saw me. And a few photographers, I think--which is really weird.”

“Really?” I looked over my shoulder and put on my blinker, hoping to merge effortlessly over three lanes to get out of the hellhole that was Miami International. 

“Yeah--don’t know why but people apparently like our band in Florida. Hometown pride, maybe.”

He had a point--apparently my name had been one of the most searched google phrases in the state at the end of 2016. But we weren’t really paparazzi level yet, once or twice in New York or LA when we’d do shows, but they’d yet to really follow us around.

“Okay, well you might have to be silent the rest of the ride if you want to get to Palm Beach in one piece.”

He turned towards me with an amused look. “Do you suck at driving?”

“No,” I said, looking over at him quickly, a car merged in front of me and made me swerve to the side a little bit when I took my eyes off the road. 

“Jesus fuck!” He laughed, “oh god--you would be absolutely rubbish at driving. This is actually extremely on brand for you.”

“I’m not rubbish at driving,” I twisted my face. “I’m just out of practice.”

We made it four miles away from the airport before he demanded that I get out and let him drive, arguing that even if the steering wheel was on the other side and we drove on the wrong side of the road, he’d be a safer bet. 

He got a coffee at a gas station and took a picture of me with the girl behind the register, more pleasant than I’d ever seen him be. He put the windows down and played me the songs he’d been listening to over the holidays and laughed when he pointed at my hands. “You got a manicure!”

I hid my face, embarrassed at the sellout I’d become. Thirteen whole days in town and my mother had convinced me to sit beside her, watch daytime talk shows while the spa ladies buffed and snipped our cuticles. 

She made me, I laughed. You might end up with one too before you leave.

We rolled up to Island Drive right before my parents got home from work and Harry leaned towards the window to get a better view of the house. His mouth hung open when we turned into the shrub-lined driveway. “Jesus, Cat. What do your parents do again?”

“Work too much,” I told him. “Mom’s a dentist and my dad’s a financial advisor. They’re super obnoxious so please try to interact with them at a minimum like Marta and I do.”

“Marta?”

“Housekeeper, my old nanny--she’s part of the family.”

He nodded, still taking in the fountain and manicured lawn when I pulled his suitcase from the backseat. Harry had known that my parents were wealthy--mainly from the time that Miles made me sound like an obnoxious rich kid when we wrote at their apartment. But Harry was apparently surprised by the level of wealth that was held in Palm Beach. His lips parted when I brought him in the front door, views of the water over the crest of the lawn and the pool, eyes landing on mine after a few seconds. 

“And you moved to New York, why?”

I kept my voice quiet, didn’t want Marta to hear my bluntness from the other room. “To get out of here.”

But soon she smiled and rushed over, eager to take Harry’s suitcase and bring it to the guest room. She offered him tea and coffee and all of the snacks that he joked he would have held out for if he knew she was here and waiting.

I brought him upstairs to show him the room he could sleep in, around the corner from mine, a view of the side yard and the gardens that a landscaping company tended to every Saturday morning. I laid the ground rules: no mentioning our partying, no mentioning times when I’ve been too drunk. If he wanted a free place to sleep with good food and a king-sized bed, he needed to keep his mouth shut about that stuff. 

He saluted me and stifled a laugh. “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m serious,” I told him. “Just be quiet, don’t give them a reason to ask you any questions.”

“Alright--I mean, come on, they can’t be that bad.”

As if on cue--as if Harry showing up in Florida wasn’t enough bad karma for one day--the alarm beeped downstairs letting me know one of them was home. Lorna first, she came in with big sunglasses and greeted Harry with a smile, her hand outstretched for her afternoon glass of Chardonnay before Marta could even hang her keys up by the door. 

Frank strolled in a little after six pm, dinner was almost ready when Harry excused himself to the bathroom and I took it as my opportunity to corner my mother before she was too drunk to remember it. 

I knocked on her office door twice, waited for her to look up from her computer before I took a few steps inside. “Hi, dear,” she said, a small smile before she looked back to the papers on her desk. 

“Hi--I just wanted to uh, ask you a favor, actually.” I approached her with my hands on my hips, unsure if I’d get her full attention or if I’d have to snap my fingers to get her eyes back on me. I sat down in the chair across from her, a formal chess move to let her know I was serious.

“What’s that?” She leaned back in her chair and waited for me to spit it out. Her direct eye contact made me nervous, I stammered over my words and tried to sway her by bringing my dad into it. 

“I, uh, just asked dad the same thing--he said it was fine.”

“Just spit it out, Catherine.”

“Can we not talk about Cameron in front of Harry?”

She set down her glasses at this, watched me for a second before she tilted her head to the side. “Okay.”

“Like, at all. Okay? Not even once.”

She sighed, almost as if my request was painful for her to consider. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

Maybe she’d tone it down with a stranger in the house. Maybe not talking about Cameron for someone else’s benefit would make her respect the limit more than she had in the past. 

I had hoped for so long that one day it’d stop, one day she’d forget his name or leave it out of conversation even if just for my sake. But my mother was too selfish for that--always forgetting that while she was grieving a son, I was grieving my other half. 

I should have known she couldn’t help herself--she had to relive the moment over and over, desperate to keep herself alive in the past as if it was safer than the present. His name slipped  out of her mouth like she didn’t even realize it, I nearly choked on my asparagus at the dinner table when she said it.

Harry was busy making small talk about our upcoming album, the studio sessions we’d be heading into once we flew back to the city. “Our manager said it’ll be good timing to release an album, makes us eligible for award season the following year.”

She pretended to be interested, pretended to care for a second about our careers, but then she did it. “Reminds me of the time Cameron won that award--”

“Mom,” I said it quick, my hands falling to the table with a thud, fork and knife in my grasp when I cut her off. “Don’t.”

The noise startled Harry, but the genuine smile on his face only faltered a little. “No, I’d love to hear the story,” he didn’t even have a clue to the fire he was igniting.

“We talked about it mom,” I gave her a death glare--which I could tell threw her off. She was frozen, torn between pleasing her dinner guest and pissing off her daughter, two of her favorite past times. 

She gestured at Harry. “Well I don’t want to be rude, Catherine.”

“Dad,” I looked over to see him on his phone, my voice pleading for him to intervene. 

“Lorna, leave it alone,” he said, disinterested, phone screen still lit up like he was begging for a distraction. 

“Oh,” she sighed, sarcasm threaded in her words. “Right--we don’t go there.”

Harry was across from me, mid-bite of his steak. He looked from me and to my mom, then back, while he chewed. He had no clue what was happening but he could tell he’d said the wrong thing. 

My mom picked up her wine glass, brought it to her lips and offered a sweet smile in Harry’s direction. “Nevermind, dear--don’t want to upset Catherine.” 

I rolled my eyes and stood from the table, “Harry, do you want to go for a walk?” 

He was caught off guard, still uncomfortably in the middle when he nodded quickly, stood from the table and thanked both of my parents for letting him stay the night as I headed for the front door. He hurried out behind me, his voice barely a whisper in the hallway. “Did I do that? Did I fuck up?”

“No,” I said, calling to Marta over my shoulder. “Dinner was delicious, Marta! We’ll be back!”

“What even happened in there?” He asked, still a few steps behind me once we walked out onto the moonlit driveway. 

I stopped short and turned around, the anger in my chest was threatening to spill out and onto the concrete. “Nothing--my mother is just fucking stupid and selfish.”

“So the intimidating level of rage coming off of you is not my fault?”

“What? No.”

I spun around again and headed for the street, a left turn towards the familiar route that I’d escape to when something like this happened. He walked beside me on the tree-line street, silent and steady until the neighborhood opened up. The same empty field at the end of the road that gave access to the lagoon, the same location I’d come to so many times after storming away from dinner as a kid. Doing it at 22 felt no different than at 15.

He shoved his hands in his pockets when we stepped onto the grass. “What is this place?”

“I don’t know--an empty field at the end of my street.”

“Is this your ponder spot?”

I looked over my shoulder, his face was lit up by the glow of the streetlights. “Ponder spot?”

He nodded and offered a shrug, “you know, the place you run off to when you need space.”

I bit back a laugh, embarrassed that his words couldn’t have been more accurate. He took my silence as confirmation, followed me over to a picnic table that sat close to the end of the water.

I threw a leg over the bench and let my head rest on top, a groan escaping my lips once I felt his weight shift the structure. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head but didn’t lift it, so he let me sit in silence for a little while. A breeze blew my hair around and after a few minutes, he sighed, like he already knew the answer but wanted to ask anyway. “Do you want to tell me who Cameron is?”

That got me to raise my head. “Definitely not.”

He smirked a little, a tiny nod as if to tell me he wouldn’t push it. He reached a hand over and patted my thigh, chin in his hand as he watched people cruise by on their boats. 

For the first time I felt comfortable with him--not pressured or panicked. He brought his eyes over to me and then fished into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a small joint, a dimple appeared on his cheek when he said: “I found this in the guest room.”

“Shut up,” I laughed, pulling it from him and sniffing it to inspect. “Did you really?”

He nodded, “which one of your parents is the stoner?”

“Well my mom is too high strung, so--must be Frank.”

He pulled out a lighter and held it up, watched when I placed it between my lips and then inhaled. I passed it over to him, thankful for a buffer between us now aside from the moon and the breeze. 

Smoke escaped my lips and floated towards the stars, he drummed his fingers on the table before I passed it to him. “Do you feel overwhelmed ever?”

“Ever?” He laughed at my question, licked his lips and then looked out over the water. 

“I mean by the music stuff lately.”

He shrugged. “Excited mostly. Why? Do you?”

I nodded, unafraid to admit that being home brought a different layer of complexity to life. “My parents will just never get it.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not successful.”

I looked down at the faded wood and the fresh coat of polish on my nails. “It kind of feels that way, though--you know, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, did it really happen?”

He stared at me for a second, sure that I was joking. “You’re mental,” he said. “The tree is down on the ground, of course it fell. Who fucking cares if they were around to hear it or not?”

I nodded, took the joint back from him and took another inhale, reminded of the first time we did this type of thing. 

He passed it to me, watched as I let smoke dance through the chilly air before he asked: “Why do you go by Cat?”

Another shrug, how I answered most questions these days. Do you have nightmares about it? Do you think about him all the time? Do you feel easily agitated? 

“Just don’t like Catherine. Too formal.”

I didn’t want to get into it. My mother calls me that, my brother called me that, all good reasons to pack up and leave behind in the childhood bedroom that held bad memories.

“I like Catherine,” he admitted. “S’pretty.”

I let my eyes sweep over to him, the moon reflected in his eyes, curls of hair poked out from the beanie on his head. “Just--don’t call me that, please.”

He laughed, completely unaware of the way it made my chest heave in the shower or the way it sent a shiver down my spine when my mom had to cut herself off--Catherine and Cameron--no, just Catherine. 

I had to correct her now too. Catherine felt like it needed to be followed by something, another name, the one that had been linked to mine since birth, born two minutes apart. 

“I think you’re pretty fucking successful, you know.”

I glanced over at him. “Yeah?”

A single nod. His short hair was still something to get used to, it bent in the wind and blocked his eyes when he turned to look at me. “I will never admit I said this, but, we’d be nothing without you.”

“Well, we only got big once you came along.”

He smirked, “so you’re aware of that?”

I gave him a shove, shaking my head at his stupid ego. His eyes lingered on mine for a second, his knee knocked against mine when he flicked the joint and then he let out a sigh. 

I wanted to lean in and kiss him, and I probably would have if it weren’t for Lila. As far as I knew she was home in New York, maybe in Jersey with her parents or siblings, but certainly an obstacle to whatever kind of intoxicated hook up could have happened between us.

I cleared my throat and looked up at the sky. “Do you want to go write a song?”

He smiled, a soft one, nodded a few times and patted me on the thigh again before he stood up and offered me a hand. “I’d love to.”

He followed me back to the house, up the stairs to my bedroom and stared at the ceiling while I plucked at the guitar. 

I don’t know where I wanna go,

But it’s far away from here

Don’t know what I’m running from

If it’s you or me, my dear

He watched, listened, nodded along while it poured out of me, more of a witness than a participant. 

It’s good, Cat, he said, keep going.

Everybody’s talking now

But no one seems to say  a thing

I do my best to drown them out

I just wish that I could be

Somewhere far away from here

Back to myself, back where I could see clear

Somewhere far away from here

Won’t somebody take me far away from here?

Sleep was heavy on my eyelids, Harry down the hall and a rough version already sent off in an email to Niall before I realized he’d said it. Four and a half years of begging him to say it, call me Cat, hoping one day he’d just give in and go along with it. All this time I thought fighting him and pushing him away would make it happen. 

It was fitting, I guess, that it was the exact opposite that finally got me what I wanted. 

**

Niall was excited that Harry had accidentally landed himself in Miami, and he was even more excited when he learned that I told him he could stay with me an extra few days before I was due to return to Manhattan and the responsibilities of work. 

He was eager to see my town, made me drive him by the high school and the parking lot where I learned--or failed, according to him--to parallel park. He swam in the pool and spit water in my face, completely deconstructing the wall I had managed to build over the last few years with a single glance in my direction. 

He promised he stayed because he was having fun, not just because flying home with me meant a first class seat.

It was rare, these days, too, that I found myself on a boat. A few times since the accident, maybe three or four. But his excitement and delight was contagious when he learned my parents still had one--the same one--and it was down on a dock off the backyard. 

I let the motor hum to life, pinks and purples splashed over the sky on our last night when he popped a bottle of champagne. I wondered if Lila knew he was here--he seemed undisturbed by his phone and altogether disconnected and unplugged. 

I drove us out to the middle of the lagoon, dropped anchor and told him about the time I learned to swim off the back. I was three or four, always in a life vest and completely unaware of the irony that my life was accumulating. 

Cam would jump off first, his floaties on his arms as he swam over to my dad who’d be in the water already. My mom would clap and snap pictures, throw us a noodle or two and then wrap us in towels back on board the boat. 

Harry was treading water beside me, though, hair dripping wet after he’d pulled off his shirt and shorts. 

I laughed when he dared me to jump in after him, said he hoped my swimming skills were better than they were back then. He splashed enough water at me on the boat before I gave in, promised he wouldn’t watch me undress and wouldn’t tell a soul that we’d been this cliché, swimming in our underwear and conversation laced with champagne giggles. So I tossed my shirt to the side and shimmied out of my shorts before I let myself sink under the surface. 

When I came up, he was watching me. 

“What?”

“Nothing--just--s’been nice to hang out with you.”

I twisted my face at his kindness, crinkled my nose at the friendship that had suddenly blossomed in the cool Florida weather.

The laughter from another boat floated over the waves, a big splash is what did it. 

I looked over, searched for the person only a hundred yards away, desperate for their head to emerge from the water, unlike his. My heartbeat was in my ears, throat tight and shoulders tense.

“Where are they?” I asked, my head turning frantically. “Do you see them? Did they come up?”

“What?” Harry followed my gaze and the smile faded from his lips. “What are you talking about?”

A man popped back up, a group of people on the boat cheered for him and sang along the music that hummed from their speakers. Harry could tell something was wrong, I tried my best to slow my breathing when I realized what was happening.

I swam over to the boat, hands clutching the ladder as I pulled myself up. My breathing was sporadic, the images flashing through my head with no option to pause. Allie’s voice, Will’s voice, the feeling in my chest when I knew he was dead and we couldn’t do anything about it. 

But I was acutely aware of the moment around me, Harry climbed up to the boat behind me and had a terrified look on his face, green eyes searching the floor for a towel before he draped it over my shoulders. 

“You’re alright--Cat, you’re alright, it’s okay,” his arms were around me when a sob slipped out, eyes stung from a mix of salt water and tears. I couldn’t do this, it couldn’t happen here and now. 

The waves from that day couldn’t show up, drag me under until I couldn’t breathe like he couldn’t. Not in front of Harry. 

“Hey,” he said, moving my shoulders to force me to sit down, his knees across from mine when he looked me in the eyes. “You’re alright, nothing’s happening.”

I nodded, licked at my lips and wiped at my eyes with the towel when I blinked a few times. Feet on the boat, hands around the towel, I could see blue and white and the keys in the ignition. “Okay,” I said, more grounded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, hands on my knees now to keep them from shaking. 

Silence for a minute when I looked back at the other boat. They were fine. No one was drowning. I wasn’t drowning. I was on the boat and Harry was on the boat. 

The sun had sunk lower now, almost meeting the horizon when I met his eyes again.

“When did he die?”

“What?”

“Your brother.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He plucked at his lower lip, he dropped my gaze for a second and then sighed. “It’s okay, Cat.”

I felt the water in my eyes at that, let my head swivel side to side to argue his claim. “No,” I said. “It’s not okay. This is why I don’t talk about it.”

“Maybe that’s why this is happening, then. Maybe you get like this because you refuse to talk about it.”

I pulled away from him, angry at his accusation and the way he sounded like he knew me better than he did. 

“Unless the two ten-year-olds in the frame above the guest bath are just random people,” he shrugged. “That’s Cameron, right?”

I was caught--unsure where to go and stuck on a boat with him. I didn’t look at him, kept my eyes on the floor and nodded slowly. 

He repeated his original question. “When did he die?”

“The summer before senior year of high school. He drowned.”

A breath of air escaped from his lips, like he’d expected a different answer. Cancer, maybe. A terminal illness or something less violent and avoidable. 

“Were you--with him when it happened?”

I wiped at my eyes, wishing the tears would stop and the memories would, too. “In the boat--we were drunk.”

He nodded, his focus solely on me when he leaned forward. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You weren’t there,” I said quickly, defensively. “You have no clue what happened.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t. But I know it’s not your fault.”

I cried harder at that, vision blurred when I nodded. “It was, Harry--I didn’t realize how long he’d been underwater. I was too drunk.”

“It’s called an accident for a reason.”

“You’re not supposed to know any of this,” I reminded, eyeing him skeptically when I pulled the towel up to cover myself more. “Niall doesn’t know. Miles doesn’t know. No one knows.”

“Does Jules?”

I nodded. “Cause I’m a fucking moron and got too drunk one night.”

He laughed a little. “Why’ve you been hiding it?”

“Cause college was the first time I was just me. Not Catherine and Cameron, not one of two. I was just me for the first time and it was okay--it wasn’t sad or tragic that I was just me. I wanted it to be normal.”

He nodded in understanding, offered to drive us back to the dock if I showed him how. My parents were upstairs for the night, enough space for us to sit at the counter and heat up leftovers that Marta had made while we were out. He listened when I talked about the nightmares and the flashbacks, followed me up the stairs and nodded solemnly when I made him promise to not tell the others. 

He echoed his sentiment on the boat: it’s not your fault. He brushed a piece of hair behind my ear before he leaned in and kissed me outside my bedroom door, softer than before, and most importantly, sober. 

He followed me over to the bed, his touch gentle and warm when we slipped under the sheets. It was easy--slow and careful, not like the time before. He made me feel grounded, actually in the moment for the first time in a long time. He didn’t know it, but he made me feel seen.

Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

It felt different to wake up beside him, knowing he knew and knowing he still thought I was a decent human. I looked over to see him, eyelids fluttered against his cheek when I stirred. 

A buzzing on the nightstand grabbed my attention, though, his phone vibrating with an incoming call when the morning sun crept in. A stomach dropping worse than ever, a shiver down my spine when I saw her name, a picture of the two of them side by side. 

Incoming call: Lila DiPretto

table of contents | join the tag list + talk to me | the playlist

author’s note: wowowowowowoooooww! A doozy of a chapter I hope none of you hate me too much for all of the emotion in this one! Things are heating up and now Harry knows Cat’s secret.....shit can only get weirder from here!

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[ephemerlskies]

the lighthouse | jjk

⇢ pairing: reader x jungkook

⇢ genre: one shot, fluff (what's new), strangers to "lovers", mutual pining, so much sap you're gonna have to shower after reading this, ANGST, jungkook is a literary scholar (?) of sorts

⇢ word count: 12k

⇢ warnings: as stated before, it's Cheesy with a capital C, lots of introspection, brief mentions of death, explicit language, mommy issues, (((major plot twist)))

⇢ summary: you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled. was this going to be another disappointing chapter in the book of unattainable desires or could your encounter with the mysterious man who lived in the lighthouse lead to something much more?

a/n: i'm super proud of how this turned out even though it ripped my heart out of my chest... this was probably my favorite fic to write and ahh im so happy to release it!!!! i hope you lovely little angels enjoy!! :) <3

What makes us human? This question posed by your philosophy teacher had been stalking your thoughts hours after class had ended. As the rain padded against your umbrella, you piled in a few answers to this question. 

What makes us human? A question that would seemingly have a clear cut answer, but when you got down to it, there was no distinct characteristic that differentiates humans from other animals. It was easy to say something such as how we have complex linguistics or industrialized civilization, but that is to discredit how the packs of wolves howl to each other, the birds sing from tree to tree, the beavers diligently construct their dams, or the dirt cities in which ants build their own societies not much different than humans. 

You pondered the idea that we love so deeply, even when it is often unreturned, but there is no denying the way a mother bear strikes down any and all enemies to protect her baby cub is anything other than true love.

So, what makes us human? You sat on a bench placed on the sidelines where you could witness small scenes of the lives of passing strangers. This sonder might be what makes us human. The knowledge that each person lives and loves and cries and fears and speaks and dies in ways with which you will never begin to familiarize. Life continues on around you despite how unimportant it may seem to the rest. 

Does a lion waste any moment of his time wondering how the deer had found its way to the shallow pond, whilst preparing to strike? Of course not. 

You watched a couple clinging onto each other and wondered where they met. You then were captured in the peace of an old woman prodding around in the grass with her golden retriever; perhaps it was her last companion. Then, your eyes drifted towards the two boys pushing each other over but with the gentleness one could only assume that was out of friendship or perhaps brotherhood.

And then you saw him. 

Gentle fingers tracing the stacks of magazines lined in a perfect column; an arm that disappeared into the sleeve of his dark, wool coat. A tweed newsboy hat sheltering his eyes, and deep chestnut Oxford shoes stepping lightly, nearing a tiptoe, between the cracks of each cement plate, weathered by the infinite other shoes that tread on those very grounds. A body so magnetizing and moving as if it were a secret, and you couldn’t imagine why no one else had been ingested by the enigma that is this man. You longed for him to reveal these secrets that hid underneath his hat and coat, though if he wouldn’t, which he most likely wouldn’t, you had no problem with seeking them out yourself.

In a city filled with young souls draped in modern streetwear, jeans, bright colors, and converse or Dr. Martens or perhaps high heels, catching this needle in the haystack plugged into every synapse of wonderment. The muted tones of his clothing gleamed the brightest out of the sea of strangers.

This is what made you human. Your desire to know everything that lies barely beyond your wingspan. Everything you could hold was close to nothing in meaning, and everything your arms could not reach was always all you could ever want. The rise of your legs, the way you replicated his every movement, running your fingers along the stack of magazines, fastidious prancing in the spaces between the cracks, and your subtle pursuit of the man just out of reach was what made you human. 

Bodies bustling through your path failed to untether you from this chase. It felt far beyond your power to stop yourself from the rising excitement and allure in your chest that pulled you towards him. The man was quick and swift to dodge oncoming bystanders, however your eyes became a missile fixed on a target. 

The unexpected turn he took had you floundering for you had been trapped behind an older lady and a couple walking side by side. Sadly, your memorization of the streets and landmarks had been admisal, so you found yourself in uncharted territory. Each road sign and corner store had been displayed like a foreign language, and you mentally cursed yourself for letting your silly lust for learning what shouldn’t be learned lead you into this difficult position.  

You stood defeated, the man had evaded your fragile trail behind him with ease. You lost him, or maybe he got away.

It was still midday, prompting you to make an end of this means. Your eyes discovered the coast set along the edge of the town, and though this was the furthest you had ever gone, you dared to go further. This mishap of yours granted you the opportunity to introduce yourself to the shore, and the waves have always delighted your interest. So, you found it just to walk down to the sand. The sound of the water pressing into the wet sand was calming; it was something you could find yourself getting used to. Luck presented itself kindly, giving you a moment unencumbered by the rain that had ceased not long after you stepped foot on the beach. 

You took this time to be with yourself and sort out all the problems that have been worrying your mind these past few weeks. Your best friend, Chaeyoung, had an upcoming birthday that had snuck up on you before you had the chance to even think about getting her a card, let alone a gift or celebration. And you would be disappointed with yourself if you failed to outdo last year’s efforts. There was also the test in your Chemistry class scheduled only a day after her birthday, curtailing your plans of staying out late because there was no way you would allow for anything less than your very most on this exam. Then, there was the essay on what makes us human that you denied any chance of regaining priority to your list of worries, knowing it would gnaw at your mind until you forcibly shut it out.

And the man that willed you to seek him out, and that wore the title of his stories as if he intentionally wished to spark your wonder to learn them.

That should have been the last of your worries. It should have been. 

The day began to fade into a warm, orange dusk. Skies once gloomy and grey now covered in blankets of clouds reflecting the sun’s gentle rays and you found yourself reunited with the calming feeling similar to when you first stepped on the beach. 

Not long after registering how far you had traveled along the shore, you noticed a quaint lighthouse with a house-like structure at the base. The off-white stones cemented up until a red paneled roof covered it, tempting you to know what lies behind those walls.

It looked like it was about to rain again.

Are lighthouses closed off from the public? 

There’s a house, there must be someone inside that could help me find my way home. 

All these comments to yourself made to premise the conclusion of entrance into this lighthouse. As you approached the door, framed in oak lining and painted red, the clouds appeared heavy once again. A few drops of condensation was enough persuasion that what was about to be done was for the good of your well being. You pushed it open and a creak echoed around the room inside. 

The walls were covered with stone bricks and there was one table in the center of the room. Other than that, this house was barren and if it weren’t for the second door that you guessed led to the lighthouse you would have called a car to take you home. 

Your walk was pensive and mouse-like; there was some quality about this structure that made you feel like you weren’t alone and sudden movements would disrupt an established peace. Your hand turned the cold, gold-plated handle and pulled open the door, soon being met with a warm gust of air that engulfed you into the lighthouse. 

This part of the building was exponentially more decorated than the room that preceded it. A staircase cemented into the sides of the lighthouse plastered with shelves upon shelves of books spiraled along the cylindrical walls, paired with dull lanterns that illuminated each level of railing had you drawn into its magnificence.

You stared up to what looked like a platform that held a place in which one would rest and look out into the ocean. There was no one in sight, and you assumed permission to climb up the staircase. Your eyes scanned each spine, creased and slightly warped from the moisture of the air, like they had been read over and over again. Your breath became heavy and your stare was focused on the books to ignore the dizziness settling in.

Reaching the top of the staircase came as a blessing, your lungs were close to catching fire. There were two armchairs, side by side, one fashioned a knitted blanket and the other was used as a table for five to seven or so novels, and the walls behind buried in high stacks of more books. There had to be at least seventy in the first half of piles you accounted for, and before you had the chance to snoop around the rest of the room you heard a voice coated with alarm behind you.

“What are you doing in here?” Your breath halted as you turned around, about to explain why you had let yourself into this building, however no amount of words could fully justify this invasive act. 

You recognized the wool coat and the tweed hat now resting in his hand instead of on his head. His eyes were shrouded in a youthful innocence despite his attire that implied he was a sophisticate of some sort. 

“Are you going to answer me or do I have to call the police?” The boom of his voice was chilling, sending shivers along your neck and chest. 

“Sorry, I’m-” How could you possibly defend your intrusion without sounding juvenile or absolutely insane? “I was… It was raining and I just was walking on the beach so-”

“So, you decided breaking and entering was better than getting a little wet?” His barbed responses hurdled how you plaintively stuttered around excuses. Despite his efforts to seem menacing, you couldn't let go of his boyish facial features. It was absolutely astonishing to you that someone who looked young enough to attend your own college and handsome enough to garner quite a bit of attention had anything to do with this dingy, aged lighthouse.

“No, I was going to come in here to ask for directions. I’m lost.” The pitiful temperament of this comment was not intentional, but the man who now stood in front of you felt itched by it. He couldn't ignore how your legs trembled, partly from the cold but also because of his raised voice directed at you, and how that admittedly aroused some guilt.

“It’s fine. Just-” He sighed deeply, placing his hat on the side table adjacent to the left armchair, “You can just wait here until the rain stops. Though, I have to say it looks unrelenting at the moment.” The man’s attention was captured by how the heavy rain seemed to wage war against the raging tides. You caught a glimpse of a smile. The slightest upturn of the corner of his lips almost compelling you to reveal you had spotted him in the town earlier today, and that you found yourself enamoured with his every movement, and he was ironically the reason you were stuck here.

“Are you sure? I can go, I shouldn't have been here in the first place.” The words escaped from your mouth quickly as if they were trying to race each other to be spoken.

“No, I said it’s fine.” The suddenness of this offer hushed you. He then removed his wool coat, unveiling the clothes he wore beneath it. The burgundy crew neck sweater layered tastefully over a collared shirt was just as old fashioned as every other article of clothing he sported. How intriguing.

“I'm sorry.” Your muscles grew sore from suppressing how aggressively you would have been shaking from the cold. “Thank you.” Him granting you shelter gave you motive to keep the umbrella that would suffice to protect you from the rain under wraps. The option he presented was far more favorable.

“Sit down. Please, use this blanket.” He gestured towards the throw draped over the right armchair. His eyes avoided you as much as he could manage though you had this glow emulating from your wanting eyes and soft looking skin that crept to the corner of his vision too brightly to ignore. Consequently, this comment soothed both your body and mind for he unguarded a kindness that was hidden when he first spoke to you. 

“My name is ___.” He was facing the window that displayed the sea, now thrashing and falling into itself, and without moving his head, his eyes drifted towards you.

“I know who you are.”

“Wh- How?” Maybe accepting an invite in a secluded lighthouse on the beach wasn’t the safest thing you could be doing on a Friday afternoon. Anxiety pioneered a place in your breathing, turning it rushed and choked.

Before your mind could theorize all the ways in which you could make an escape from this room or how quickly you could use your hidden umbrella as a weapon he said, “I noticed you following me in the town’s square earlier today.” You sighed, releasing the terror that pricked your lungs. If anything, it was he who should be afraid of you.

“I’m not a stalker!” That weak defense was all you could push from your throat before any well constructed explanations could be put forth. 

His laugh, along with his cryptic gaze towards the waves, made you feel even worse about your actions.

“You were just so stunning and I wanted to know what kind of person still wears a newsboy hat without trying to make a statement.” Your lower lip tucked between your teeth stopped the nervous laugh about to spill and expressed worry that the more you tried to explain yourself, the more this man believed you should be charged for stalking not to mention trespassing.

“Stunning?”

“I mean, like, someone I’d want to meet.”

“What were you planning on doing once I stopped somewhere, or noticed you?” He questioned you only because he relished how you were scrambling to a proper defense. He knew you weren’t any threat to him, not many people were, however he enjoyed your chatter more than the silence that would have taken its place.

“I don't know, maybe just… introduce myself?” This sheepish, yet honest, reply had you drowning in humiliation, while the man before you seemed as if he were floating effortlessly along the surface. 

“I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” Relief replaced the worry that he would turn you away, leaving you to the hands of the storm outside. The fact that any other person would have done so led you to believe Jungkook held a lot more compassion than he let on. You held your hand to greet him, finding it only polite to execute this formality. His, however, remained folded behind his back, notably denting your ego as you retracted your hand quicker than you extended it.

“Okay.” You muttered to yourself in slight embarrassment from this trivial rejection. “So, do you live here or something?” Your question was first replied to with a breath of annoyance. Jungkook was kind enough to allow you a sanctuary from the rain, exemption from the intrusion and stalking, and now he found himself having to entertain you.

“Yeah, something like that.” All this disinterested answer did was persist your attempts to break his catatonic gaze. However, his reserve had been solidified steadily over the years, so this venture was going to be tough.

“I didn’t know you could live in a lighthouse?” Your inquiry was spoken with the hopes this would ignite a lasting conversation. 

“It’s not a lighthouse, technically.” Jungkook’s affirmative tone flew right over your head, conjuring even more annoyance that oddly enticed him to continue responding to your dense questions.

“Well, it looks like a lighthouse. It’s shaped like a lighthouse. It’s on the beach, just like a lighthouse.” A chuckle joined the sigh of his breath and his head that shook at your shallow observations. Jungkook eventually turned around and made his way towards the stacks of books, trying to preoccupy himself from whatever this exchange was. “All signs point to this being a lighthouse.”

“Well, it’s not. Lighthouses are meant to send signals to the ships out at sea. This doesn't,” His curt response tickled your amusement, only encouraging you to further aggravate him. “Therefore, not a lighthouse.”

“Okay,” You sounded agreeable, but this was soon followed by a doubtful comment whispered just loud enough for Jungkook’s ear to catch it, “It’s a lighthouse.” He found his stoicism melting away due to your spiteful attitude and conniving giggle in the face of his frustration. You wanted to get a rise out of him, and he knew this, and you were doing a fine job at it.

“It’s not-” His voice elevated with excitement, but he soon tamed the defensiveness threatening to spill from his lips, “Do you want to go back out into the rain?” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Though, you sounded all but remorseful. The sly smirk resting on your face matched Jungkook’s satisfied expression, despite these smiles surfacing for different reasons. You couldn’t deny how humorous it was to distemper this man. How all the worries you laid out like the pebbles and seashells on this beach were washed away by the tides. Meanwhile, his grin provided little contribution in masking his enjoyment of your company and relentless curiosity.

You now sat in the right armchair, bundled in the blanket. It was not necessarily a thick blanket, but the chills once disturbing you had dwindled almost immediately. You were still entranced by Jungkook's movements. His hands were now occupied with a book from one of the stacks he’d been eyeing; the way he cradled the book like it was a newborn baby further revealed he had a somewhat protective attitude towards them. 

“What are you reading?” His eyes remained between the pages and lines of the book, but his focus was yet again thieved by your incessant curiosity. Jungkook thought it irritating similarly to how one would find a cat disrupting their owner from work, annoying yet ever so endearing, and adorably distracting.

“I’m not reading, I’m being bothered by you.” His snark was meant to damage your brazen pestering, but unknown to him it merely fueled it.

“Boohoo.” No matter how elementary that retort was, you still managed to fever him and hold hostage his attention.

“I’m reading The Odyssey.” Jungkook surrendered to you, placing the book on his lap that was now sitting in the armchair next to yours. “Why do you ask so many questions?” His eyes laid on you the same way they laid on the sea, filled to the brim with fascination. 

“I just wanted to know what you were reading.” Even when he expressed a clear indication that he was past your nonsense, it went unnoticed like the particles of dust flitting around the darkened room. This oblivion of yours prompted your next question. “Could you read it to me?”

His eyebrows furrowed at this request. Jungkook had already found himself exhausted by your persistence, and predicted ‘no’ would not be accepted as a viable answer. He just sighed and began to read aloud.

His soft voice somehow drowned out the sea’s commotion. The words flowed off his tongue as if he wrote the book himself; such poise for a young man lured you to immerse yourself in his narration and time grew more and more abstract. 

After a bit, Jungkook paused to examine how you'd received his reading and he was pleased to find your chin resting in your palm and your eyes and ears fixed onto him as if he were reading the gospel. This made it difficult, impossible, to deny entry for the subtle blush working its way on his cheeks.

“Are you satisfied?” He closed the book, peering out of the window to check if the weather had eased since you arrived. Though the intensity of the storm hadn’t lightened in the slightest, there was a new tranquility adopted by the drizzling sky waters that sank and fed into the waves.

“Never.” You replied with a hungered conviction twisted into your words, “What happens next?”

Jungkook laughed in shock of how eager you were to hear more of this story. It was unlike someone who wasn’t well versed in literature to genuinely enjoy listening to this archaic novel. 

“Why are you laughing? Read more!” Your whine came off a bit childlike, but succeeded in its goal. 

“It’s getting late.” He commented with a gentle sternness, though he proceeded to reopen the book. Your peculiar attention naturally drew him to oblige your desires. Even in the midst of a storm, even as the hours slipped by and the evening had been born, he continued to read.

You settled back into your chair in rejoice that you’d get to spend a bit more time with Jungkook. He was practically a stranger, and still there was a climate of comfort and intimacy that took the place of the crisp, winter air when he read from his book. He felt it too, and that was reason enough to allow you this company.

Throughout the chapter he had been working to finish, he snuck glances to find your eyes growing heavy with sleep as each page turned. Jungkook halted from reading and was trapped in the flush of your cheeks and lips and how your mouth hung slightly ajar as you inhaled the cold, wet air of the lighthouse. The puffs of breath that billowed from your lips had him yearning to know a warmth so full with life and curiosity.

“Are-” Jungkook tensed at the idea of disturbing your sleep, as if you hadn’t barged into his life without a hint of permission. “Are you asleep?”

Your head lifted slowly, then held stiff to maintain consciousness, “I was just resting my eyes. I’m not tired, I want you to read more.” You said this in spite of knowing you would drift asleep if he did.

“I think we are done reading for now.” The book closed for the last time, his hands pressing against the cover to seal his assurance. “You should head home.”

“But, I don’t know how the book ends.” This weak argument came from a place of jaded desperation. Regardless, he almost fell victim to your subdued urgency but any sensibility he could garner warned him not to allow this. You were quite obviously tired and he prefered you be safe in your own bed before the night advanced.

“Well, that’s because I only just started this book and it is very, very long.” Jungkook hoped this would usher you out even if that meant the return of loneliness would seep between the pillows of the right armchair after you left him with his solitude. 

“Well, I won’t be able to get these questions out of my mind unless I finish the book.” Another weak argument drained from your inventory of excuses. Maybe a change of subject would present an opportunity to linger in his company. “Also, why do you live here all alone?”

“I just do. I feel like I don’t have to explain this to you.” Jungkook was bewildered at his admission to give you, an unannounced and uninvited visitor, any explanations and still he was close to doing exactly that. “You’re quite invested in my personal life.” As much as that was true, his withdrawal from your curiosity wasn't all that effortful. Living in secrecy and desolation had the feeling of companionship nearly vanishing from his memory and you reunited him with  that warmth. And, he had not realized how it had nearly been forgotten or how much he missed it until he finally felt it again. 

“You seem like someone who has better things to attend to.” The lament that stained his words bore such heartache that was soon displaced in your chest. 

“No, no. My life is boring, and I don’t know. What person wouldn’t be interested in the personal life of a hermit who lives in a lighthouse?” You stood and paced around the platform towering over the swirling bookshelves below, towering over what felt like the entire world with Jungkook. The end of the blanket trailed your footstep as your drooping eyes skimmed the multicolored novels which were remarkably arranged alphabetically by author. How he had the time or patience to organize the hundreds of books he owned was beyond your comprehension. Every detail you acquired from Jungkook was stored in a compartment of your heart, almost as if it were assigned by fate. They were told in riddles and secrets and everything else meant to be deciphered.

“Not a hermit, and not a lighthouse. I couldn’t imagine someone like you being bored with your life.” His voice had become welcoming, with a hint of genuine interest, and this transition felt imminent ever since you first introduced yourself. The tilt of your head signified your agreement with his last statement and implied there was something that bothered you about this truth.

“Someone like me?”

“Someone like you. Curious, young with your whole life ahead of you. It's hard to believe you should be bored with that.”

“You say that as if you aren't the same age as me.” Jungkook shrugged lazily and scuffed his shoes against the rug as he now stood against the window sill, observing your interest of his books.

“I shouldn’t be a lot of things, and yet I am all those things. Bored, curious, and I’m here talking to a complete stranger that totally has the capability to murder me like in those movies instead of going back home.” Your comment that snuck out had wrested a soft chuckle from Jungkook. They were absentmindedly thrown into the air that filled the space between you and him, nurturing his reciprocated fascination with you. Your diligent grazing of each book had distracted how the weight of your eyelids heavied by the minute.

“It’s not like I don’t have great people in my life or a quality education that takes up most of my time, I just,” Your brief pause was to turn your attention over to Jungkook, who did not hide how he was listening intently to these confessions, alleviating from a place in need of emptying. His eyebrow was arched in a manner that jolted you back to your senses. You’d revealed one too many privacies to someone who you had been acquainted with only hours ago. Mortification would have bathed your body if not for the way Jungkook seemed to strongly engage with your openness.

“You just?” He staged his interest overtly to correct the imbalance of how your genuinity left you hanging lower than him on the emotional scale. Jungkook believed that was the least he could do to mitigate the embarrassment about to silence you. 

“Uh, I just never seem to be satisfied with what I have. And that makes me seem like a greedy, spoiled child which makes me even more frustrated with myself.” You admitted, pulling the blanket over your shoulders tighter as if that would shield you from the compromising guilt slithering out of your body. “And that’s how I see myself. Ungrateful and spoiled.” This certainly scraped the barrel of your deep rooted disgust with yourself.

“Not spoiled, just lost.” His response felt like a soft and thoughtful embrace, granted that this was meant to ease the tinge of reproach in your heart. The words he spoke caressed your cheeks and told you that every horrid thing you thought of yourself was flawed.

“I’ve certainly been in your position.” He euphemized what he really wanted to say to you, that he saw himself in you. Even though you spoke very little on this, he felt himself living every experience you alluded to as if he had been right beside you your whole life. Or rather that you had witnessed his life and suffered identical desires and grievances and adversities and were simply retelling his story down to the most intricate detail; and somehow you made it sound brand new and a thousand times more aching. He was stranded in a state of amazement, ambushed by your pain and how even in moments of emotional destitution, you were unquestionably beautiful.  

Likewise, this stranger, who was no longer estranged, and his kind words nearly compensated for the billions of people you could never meet, all the dreams you wanted but could never alter into incarnation, and all the disappointments that plagued your heart.

And you felt held by his words, his voice, him.

“You’ve been in my position?” You requested confirmation.

“I was. Certainly.” And he confirmed.

“Where are you now?” In turn, you wanted this to suggest, ‘where can I find you?’

This question carried profound sentiment on both the giving and receiving end of it. To you, this yearned for advice. Any piece of wisdom would gladly, gratefully be accepted to ease this rampage of constant dissatisfaction. To him, it resurfaced a series of speculations long undisturbed until you had asked this question; a place intentionally void of all attention because it was sometimes too grim to remember. A haze of difficulty crowded a definite answer, though he knew there was one. He couldn’t place his finger on a fitting response and found himself next to you in search of the answer.

Where are you now?

This haunted his mind for a bit, leaving him speechless and albeit impressed, for once, by your curiosity. 

“It’s hard to say. Somewhere in between, I suppose.” Whatever meaning this carried did not resonate as sound to you. The mere idea of being on the end of perpetual longing, waiting for a clear path to the end that promised fulfillment, made it implausible to settle on being somewhere in between the two. Again, you were left unsatisfied and feeling a burden placing itself on your shoulders and wallowing a fit of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook noticed how your eyes fell from his, down to the maroon accents of the rug, and felt out of place. Out of place, in his own lighthouse, all because your gaze and attention he’d grown used to in this short time wasn’t directed at him.

“That’s the kind of ambiguity that leaves me so hungry.” He nodded in agreeance with the twisted cruelty of his response you had pointed out. Jungkook didn’t know how or why he’d come to turn every corner and check each crevasse to find what could settle your appetite. This whole time, though, he sailed through this painstaking search without a trace of uncertainty. His illusion of disinterest and annoyance soon dissolved into the floor that your eyes hadn’t strayed from. 

“Maybe if I lived in a quaint, not-lighthouse I would be satisfied with that answer, but I don’t. I live a normal, normal, normal life.” The repetition of your words stressed your fatigue of this dullness, your desire for everything just inches away from your fingertips.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a normal life. I think it’s wrong that we have put the idea of drama and excitement on a pedestal.” This outlook, unlike the last, did gain traction in stripping the thick ambiguity around Jungkook’s mind. To your surprise, you could be satisfied with the small pieces of this man’s mystery being chipped bit by bit. 

He was well aware of his deep rooted appreciation that accompanied your eyes as it moved towards him once again. There was some sense of purposefulness in this glance that demoted his callousness to tender captivation.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“I have a hard time believing you only have one more question.” His doubtfulness didn’t seem to discourage you, or him.

“For real! Only one more, it’s important.” The only way to prove whether or not this question was truly important was for you to ask it. His head nodded his approval.

“What do you think makes us human?” Before he could answer, a swell of perplexity had overtaken his thoughts on this. You could tell, out of everyone, Jungkook would have a profound answer that could save you hours of contemplation over your philosophy essay’s prompt. 

“That’s an interesting question.”

“An interesting question in need of an answer.” You prodded him for his response, though this was pointless if there was no response that could possibly be constructed. Not a response of reason that you seemed to require, but of feeling. Like an instinct, and that in itself made it inapplicable to this question.

“Ask me again some other time. I don’t know if the answer is that simple.”

But, of course, it was. The answer, in his eyes, was blindingly clear.

“I’ll hold you to that!” He gladly took accountability for that commitment. An unfamiliar contentment with the unknown had lodged in your chest when the promise of spending time together emerged through the once conditional circumstances. The promise that transformed those conditional circumstances to voluntary acts.

This humbling discovery left a wide grin on your face, beaming directly towards Jungkook. 

Jungkook peered over to the antique clock placed on a shelf next to the window. The aversion of his eyes was to save face from how your soft smile that projected praise and attachment had effectively unnerved him; he stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide his fingers that twitched out of pure elation. 

The hour hand stationed on the twelve carved in roman numerals verified how his company had erased any discern for the hours that passed. They had floated away so silently, slowly that you could have sworn time froze altogether. 

“Oh shit, it’s midnight? Fuck me.” The decibels of your voice boomed against the walls, it could have shaken the stacks of books down to a pile of mess. “I’m sorry, shit. I didn’t even realize it was so late.” You unraveled yourself from the blanket and collected your belongings in a bit of a frenzy. 

“It’s alright. I, um, I had a nice time.” He distanced himself from you swiftly as you dashed across the room to the edge of the stairs. Even in a hurried state, you still looked back to him and offered a smile, unsure if that was enough to suffice for a proper gesture of gratitude. 

“Me too.” The words were close to inaudible, but you knew he heard them loud and clear, along with the string of implications that were laced in them. 

“Oh and by the way, make good use of that umbrella. It looks like it could start raining again.” Your ears felt engorged with flames when he’d revealed his knowledge of your little secret. It was foolish of you to believe you could outsmart Jungkook because what you thought obscure was well within his range of astuteness and the umbrella, still damp from the rain, was apparent from the beginning.

You didn’t catch how he’d been smiling when you turned away bashfully, strutting down the stairs in an attempt to portray false confidence. But if you did, you would have picked up on his mutual indulgence in your visit, the absolute bliss laden in his eyes. You grasped tightly to the joy evoked from the thought of seeing him again, however your nerves held a tighter grasp that did not allow you to express this to him. Perhaps your giggles of excitement, surely heard by Jungkook, spilling from your throat as you rushed out the empty room or the way you clutched your umbrella to your chest in admittance you had purposefully kept that fact from him would give Jungkook a clue of how thankful you were to meet him. And even more so to be able to see him again.

As you parted from the lighthouse that was not a lighthouse, something in between, you felt that the comfort you once had taper off with the growing distance from the not-lighthouse. You were fraught with a gentle yearning to turn back, run up the spiraling stairs, settle yourself back into the right armchair, and ask humbly to stay a while longer.

Little did you know, Jungkook’s hopes coincided with yours like two concentric circles. 

(One week later)

If it wasn’t the question left unanswered that motivated you, it was the fact that you missed the view of the beach from the window. Or maybe it was the countless supply of book titles that you didn’t get to finish inspecting. Perhaps it was that you missed how the soft blanket complimented the feathery cushion of the right armchair. 

Any of these excuses could be suited to explain how you rushed through the town, determined, goal-oriented and passing down streets now ingrained in your memory, with a destination clear in mind.

But it definitely couldn't be how dearly you missed the sound of his voice when he read to you or his smile or the way he studied the waves with gentle affection. No, it couldn't be that.

Either way, you arrived at the base of the lighthouse. It had been a week since your first visit and you hoped that the invitation still stood for your return. Making your way through the empty room felt quick since you hadn't wasted time to notice how the table now had a vase of flowers in the center. Nor did you notice the new mat placed in front of the interior doorway to the lighthouse.

Your heart dropped from your chest when you reached over to the door knob only to find it was locked. You turned the handle back and forth as if that would miraculously function as a key to unlock the door. After a bit of knob fiddling had proven itself useless, you turned away with a huff of air releasing your frustration. 

The click and turn of the handle had you twirling around optimistically and seeing him made all that disappointment dissolve. 

“You’re back again.” He was smiling at you, then cocked his head to say come in. The moment you stepped into the lighthouse, its lackluster disappeared as if by magic. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t magic at all; it was the person that hid their umbrella, and asked him to read and promised to return as much as he promised to let you return.

“I believe you promised to keep reading to me.” 

“Did I?” The reasons for your return weren’t all that important to discuss, both you and him were just glad to make your way up the stairs to the two armchairs once more, hearts both racing not because of the physical exertion from the stairs but from the excitement rasping through yours and his bodies.

“Yes, but this time I won’t fall asleep.” 

“We’ll see about that.” There was no question that your intense focus wasn’t because you cared about the book he had been reading. In all honesty, you would not be able to summarize any bit of the plot if someone asked. You probably would have a hard time even naming the author of the book because what sank you into the words on the pages wasn’t the story itself, but the voice that read them. Jungkook made those languid paragraphs sound like the first words ever to be spoken; he reinvented the English language through his unique dialect, inflections and phrasing that had the words of Homer dancing off the pages. So, of course there was no question that you wouldn’t be able to name any of the characters or recognize the writing style of Homer because those details faded away, leaving only the memory of his voice with you.

This time, Jungkook didn’t have to offer you a seat. He made it clear that this spot had been reserved and waiting for you by the way the blanket had been folded and worn by the arm of the chair and the new pillow resting at the base of the chair’s backrest. You planted yourself on the cushion that felt more plump than the last time you sat in it and faced towards the large window that showcased the ocean’s energetic swaying.

“I would never get tired of this view.” You commented while Jungkook pulled back the curtains further to widen the seascape. He too was drawn to the deep blue waters making their way to and from the shore. 

“I usually don’t leave the windows this open, but my love for the scenery of the ocean has rekindled.” When he said this, your eyes hadn’t budged from the window unlike Jungkook’s that peered over to you. You pretended not to notice that or the way your heartbeat had taken a quickness that had your skin growing warmer. 

“How could it leave in the first place?”

“It is well known, especially by you, that having an abundance of something lessens your appreciation for it.” A corner of your lips lifted at this, knowing exactly what he had been referring to. Each wave passed by and in a comatose-like state, you wondered where on the shore it would land.

“No need to call me out already, Jungkook.” He had left the window and retrieved The Odyssey that hadn’t left the side table since the night he read it to you. This broke your trance, and you shifted to face the left armchair.

“You made it too easy, ___.”

“Okay, Hermit.” Your smile did wonders to ease the irritation in Jungkook’s chest to tenderness. Though he refused to admit it, this otherwise taunting nickname sounded affectionate coming from you.

“Technically a hermit is-”

“Technically, I don’t care about your technicalities. No amount of facts will persuade me that you aren’t a Hermit.” Jungkook dug his tongue into the side of his cheek to resist from joining in with your laughter. He’d been fidgeting with the book that was waiting to be read, but neither of you seemed to mind putting that off.

“Ho- How was your day?” You shouldn’t have felt as proud as you did for making a man who could read aloud for hours stutter over his own words, and nonetheless you were extremely flattered by this.

“It was good.” Good never really meant good, and Jungkook knew this.

“And what’s the truth?” Your playing field had once again been unleveled, the advantage returned into the palm of Jungkook’s hand in the blink of an eye. His perceptiveness had been bordering on annoying but still remained on the side of impressive.

“Well,” You bunched the blanket in your fists as an expression of worry, “My mom called today.” Anyone who could hear would be able to tell you sounded unhappy about that.

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Jungkook articulated his question to get the answer he’d been looking for, finding the hostility in your voice far more interesting than the actual conversation between you and your mom.

“You don’t know my mom, but she projects her over achieving personality onto almost everyone she meets, but most of it goes onto me.” Your back had straightened when mentioning your mom, almost as if it were a reflex, like Pavlov’s dog, that you were conditioned to be on guard at the thought of her. “I don’t know why I get so mad at her when she does that because I know it comes from a place of love.”

Jungkook hummed softly, granting you space to continue talking. 

“Yeah, it probably comes from a place of love but part of me doesn’t believe that. Part of me thinks every time she calls to check on me it’s really just a ploy for her to nag me on what I could be doing better.” You scoffed as the conversation from earlier in the morning played out in your head again. Envisioning the back and forth between you and your mother only fueled your frustration but you couldn’t help yourself. There was no stifling the seething anger imploding before Jungkook’s eyes. “She always says stuff like, ‘Maybe if you applied yourself more you would be doing better than this.’ or ‘I told you that you should have done this or that and now it’s too late’ or the infamous ‘Do you not care about your future?’ lecture that just gets under my skin. She’s so good at saying the wrong things at the wrong time. I don’t know how she does it but she always manages to rub dirt in the wound.” 

“So, she’s never satisfied with you?” Jungkook observed.

“No, never! And you’d think a mother would be supportive or happy with all the things her child had already accomplished but somehow it’s never enough. And she knows what she’s doing. That makes it worse. She knows how she weaponizes my guilt against me.” You held your tongue from the much longer rant about to digress, feeling a sudden discomfort in the way you’d been complaining to Jungkook. You couldn’t understand why it was all too easy to talk of these kinds of things to him, why he looked so interested in what you were saying even when anyone else would have grown tired of you by now, why you found in him a warm confidant much more comforting than you’d expected, yet there was no way to dismiss this reality.

Jungkook did not offer advice, or tell you that you should be thankful or that maybe you were handling these situations poorly. He did none of that. His silence was more thoughtful than any number of things he could have said. He simply listened. 

You rose from the chair to get a closer view of the sea. Past your reflection in the glass, the consecutive tides seemed to grapple over the next and the next; the previous wave always just short of reach to tackle the immediate wave. He had followed you without a word, living up to your desire to have him at your side. There was no need for mindless comments or condolences to fill the silence, only mindful amity, at your side, because watching the ocean with you was enough.

“So, that was my day.” It was the first thing spoken after a period of quiet, perfectly timed and delivered for it to bear a dry humor in its intention. Jungkook and you laughed, finding this the long needed release of tension in your head. 

“Is this going to become a habitual thing?”

“What’s that?” 

“Me complaining to you about my personal struggles that would have gone in my journal or somewhere far more private than this.” All said while your and Jungkook’s gazes didn’t wander from the view of the window. “Me inviting myself into your lighthouse, or not-lighthouse, whatever.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Two heads turned towards each other almost as if it were on que.

The way your pupils dilated and softened conveyed every bit of thanks you held in your heart but couldn’t muster the courage to voice. Jungkook’s doe-eyed smile thanked you likewise and confessed the gratitude for how you had rescued him from yet another lonesome afternoon with a curtained window, an unused blanket, an empty chair, and a melancholic silence as he read his one of thousands of books. Not including The Odyssey, that was for your ears only.

“You wouldn’t?”

“Maybe a little.” His tease succeeded to provoke that smile of yours. And even though that was a favor on his end, he was the one that felt graced by it. Realistically, a smile costs nothing yet there grew an enormous debt in his heart; and even though he couldn’t afford it, all he could do was bask in every detail your smile, of the crease of your eyes, and of the way your cheeks took the form of a sweet Spring Peach, and the scrunch of your nose and brows. Before he sank himself deeper in debt, Jungkook beckoned for the two of you to return to your seats and read all your worries away.

---

Who would have guessed that The Odyssey, of all things, would be the thing that would occupy most of your Fridays through the rest of the winter? Sometimes you visited a Sunday, and other times you’d find yourself needing to hear The Odyssey on a Wednesday evening or a Monday morning. The days on which you swung by the now familiar lighthouse would vary, but they remained a weekly occurrence. 

Jungkook had grown comfortable with this routine, reading to you while you watched him and the waves, but mostly him. Occasionally, his reading would cease to an interruption of his own doing to ask how your day was in a very specific way that only Jungkook seemed to exhibit. He’d ask you say anything but ‘good’ or ‘boring’ and he’d clarify that he wanted you to not leave out any details. 

“Why?” You would ask. And he’d look at you as if you set yourself on fire.

“It’s important to me.” He’d reply as if it were that simple, or the answer you were looking for. Still, if it was important to him you didn’t need any more persuading.

Like when you told him you stopped by a coffee shop, he’d tell you to specify which drink you ordered and how it tasted. 

“Cinnamon.”

“Is that your favorite?”

“No, I prefer peppermint but sometimes I combine those flavors and that becomes my other favorite.”

“That sounds sweet.”

“It absolutely is.”

“Does that make you happy?”

“It makes my insides feel like Christmas.”

“Is Christmas a feeling?”

“It is to me!” He smiled at your childlike enthusiasm because it made life seem a lot more appealing than he’d ever believed. Before you, the world was a little greyer. After you, suddenly full of vibrance, saturated to the grandest extents.

Or the time you brought a candle to fill the air with something a bit more pleasant than the smell of the old, wet stones of the lighthouse.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a candle, vanilla and patchouli.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I don’t remember. I just found it in my house and thought this place needed something sweet.”

“But you’re here.” Your teeth bit down on your tongue when he said this. You almost fallen trapped in figuring out what motivated him to say this, but the flattery of his comment was all too pleasing to ignore.

“But I don’t smell like vanilla and patchouli.” You said, only to save face from the fact that you suddenly felt like a deer in headlights when he looked at you, bracing for when he would crash into you and hoping to god you can absorb the exhilaration of souls colliding; and hoping to god he would crash into you.

“Could you light it, then?”

“Of course.”

And the room filled with a sweetness that complimented your company finely. Now, whenever he would smell the scents of vanilla and patchouli he would think of you, and you of him.

He would continue asking these simple questions, and so on.

Why he thought it was essential for you to relay these almost invaluable intricacies was beyond you, but it did make you feel heard; it made you feel held as it always did. It made the value of your life gone without the need to be earned or proven, the value of the smaller moments that fell between bigger moments. 

It made it all okay that you felt like you stripped the clothes from your whole life off for him to revere and that he’d rarely ever display such emotional nudity for you; you were okay with lying bare before his eyes, vulnerable and pliant to his every whim. Even when you wanted to know all of these things about Jungkook and he’d hold them captive or he’d only offer half sufficient answers, you collected as many bits of the puzzle as possible to try and piece together his story.

“How are your parents, Jungkook?”

“Long gone.”

“Oh, Jungkook… I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I watched them grow old and content and that softened the blow.” 

“Are you lonely?”

Yes, it’s excruciating when you are not here. I am tormented in your absence and all too plagued with despondency and I wish you knew that.

“I’ve grown used to it.”

“So you have.”

“So I have.”

You did not want him to be lonely; you didn’t want him to ever be sad but you wanted him to be able to say that he was to you. You wanted him to be able to tell you he was lonely; you wanted him to want you to know his heart. You wanted him to feel as naked as you felt. Vagueness was all you could ever manage to arrest from his gated mind. 

And for once, the little he had given was more than you could ever ask for.

Sunday mornings with Jungkook were your favorite. The ocean was tame during this time on Sundays specifically and sailed you into its calmness; you were half asleep, resting on the sill running along the base of the window panes. Spring had been approaching which meant there were radiant glimmers of the early sun that reflected and glided along the ripples of the waves. Jungkook once said that every time he looked at these little pieces of diamond rays, he believed the sun and the sea performed in devotion for you and him alone. 

“I love that.” And indeed you did. The idea that no one else witnessed this ocean, not this one, not the way you and Jungkook had, was a greedy disposition but felt so true.

“Would you like me to read?” He said in place of, Is my voice properly fitting for something as lovely as this moment?

“I want you to talk, but not of books.” You blinked slowly at Jungkook, “Could you tell me about yourself? Just one thing, anything you choose.” He saw those specks of diamonds glimmering in your irises. He felt so close to you, sitting on the other end of the window, and close enough to finally surrender a bit of his gated mind.

“When I was a child, I knew my days were numbered. The details of why aren’t important, but I digress.” You stuffed a scoff down your throat at the assertion that the details weren’t important. Him, of all people, claiming the details were unimportant had you whirling in a paradox. “With this in mind, I did my best to fulfill everything any child would have wanted. And I don’t think I’ve ever stopped because that list of desires was never ending.” 

Was this what he meant when he said he was in my position once? You wondered.

“I spent all my time looking for the next best thing I could achieve, because the best things that I had was, as you know, never enough. One week, the best thing would be finding a four leaf clover to give to my mother. The next, it was being the first in line for the new, long awaited comic book. Or, it was the time my father took me fishing on the lake, and then seconds after it was the first fish I caught and threw back into the water, and that best thing was soon replaced by my father’s proud smile.”

Your throat tightened as you visualized a young Jungkook sitting on the dock with his father, full of youth and excitement, and how nostalgia had ripened into your heart even though you had no place in this memory of his. This dream-like sequence had compelled a few tears to fill your eyes, fogging your vision of the older Jungkook that sat before you. 

“When I grew older, in my adolescent and teenage years, the next best thing was fulfilling a newfound passion. It prompted me to buy out almost the entire library and major in World Literature. I spent the rest of my days from then on immersed in reading, as you can see. It was the only place I felt like I was achieving the next best thing, and it was cruel when I came to realize there was no way in hell I could finish all the books I’d collected in time.”

“In time for what?”

“In time... for the next best thing to come along, I guess.” This answer appeared fabricated, but was subtle enough to pass through your mind without a second thought. 

“And did it? Did it come along?”

It would have made no difference if your question had been asked to a brick wall because Jungkook brushed it off as he did every other question that would have given you another piece of his puzzle. He took precautions to avoid a defeat to your pouting by walking over to the left armchair and burying his face in the book’s fortitude. Before you had the chance to reiterate your question, Jungkook began to read, making it all too clear he was evading.

“Jungkook?” You whined to which he paid no mind by continuing to read.

“Is he being serious right now?” Again, you might as well have been talking to an inanimate object. There was nothing to be done when he lodged his restraint other than joining him in your armchair, quietly, permissively.

Every day, like this one, spent with him had you convinced it couldn’t be surpassed in enjoyment. And every day, your expectations had been exceeded. That was something you’d never think could happen. Soon, the cares and worries of this Winter melted as the avenue of Spring had unfolded before you. A long path, surrounded with flower blossoms and diamond coated seas, or in other words, the unfathomable had fallen into your hands.

The remainder of this pleasant Sunday had been consumed by The Odyssey and Jungkook’s voice singing its words as smoothly as the waves surrounding the lighthouse and small conversations during the pauses of his reading. One struck you into reminiscence of the first night you met.

“You never answered my question.” He paused, flipping through the many unanswered questions he’d left with you. Jungkook raised his brow to order specification of which one you referred to.

“What makes us human?” The due date of your essay passed over two months ago, however this didn’t diminish your curiosity to know his answer.

“In all honesty,” He paused and looked to assure you would believe his answer would be honest, or honest enough to cater your satisfaction. “I think it’s our desire to achieve the last best thing.”

Every fiber in you compiled its own list of questions in regards to his yet again ambiguous answer, though you had grown to accept that as a part of Jungkook. And you sure as hell accepted Jungkook, ambiguity and all.

“Hm.” It didn’t take a mind reader to know you had theorized any and all connotations branching off from his answer and he didn’t mind that you could be lost in search of whatever the actual meaning of it was. 

The moon was in its fullest bloom tonight, and tomorrow, it would begin to wane into a crescent then into nothing but an empty space full of new and perhaps fortunate opportunities. Jungkook found the romance of this lunar phase well equipped for the dusty instrument he discovered in the base of the lighthouse. 

“I found something that I think you’d like.” Your ears perked like a dog when it’d been presented with treats. “But you have to go get it. It’s in the other room.”

Whatever this surprise was, it had excited you enough to ignore how you’d have to descend and re-ascend the many stairs that would surely tire you. Your eager legs would have jumped right from the platform to the bottom of the lighthouse if the reality didn’t result in broken bones. As you rushed to the door to the other room, you pushed through and discovered a telescope standing in the corner of the otherwise empty space. A few moments later you were hustling back up the stairs, the telescope making the re-ascension of the stairs ten times as strenuous. All the while, Jungkook just stared in amusement at the way you struggled your way to the platform.

“No, I don’t want any help, thank you!” You said sarcastically through grunts of exertion before positioning the instrument in front of the window.

“Well, I didn’t offer you any, so, you’re very welcome.” He stood on the other side of the telescope, admiring the way you fell so easily in love with it, hands scaling the length of the scope.

“Do I just?” You pointed to the eyepiece at the end of the rod and he nodded. You brought your eye to the magnifying glass which was flooded with the enchanting glow of the stars. You’d never seen them this close, but this little gift of Jungkook’s had catapulted you into the illuminated abyss of the night sky. A measly woah was all that squeaked from your voice, because all the other words were stolen by the stars.

“Can you find any constellations?” He’d seen all the stars in the galaxy; that he was sure of. But none had shone brighter than the person he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Three o’clock had crept onto the antique clock, this late hour had worn down Jungkook’s walls completely as the soft glow of adornment laminated his eyes. 

“I think I see ORion's belt. That’s the only one I know other than the Big Dipper.” You laughed at your own lack of knowledge of the stars. Knowledge didn’t seem to matter though, the beauty of the stardusted sky had taken care of that deficiency. You lifted yourself away from the telescope, allowing Jungkook a turn to stargaze.

“Have you heard of the Astral Plane?” Jungkook asking you something other than, ‘how was your day’, was a rare occurrence which most likely meant this was of some importance.

“I’ve heard of it, but I think I’ll need you to refresh my memory.” You really did need clarification on what exactly the Astral Plane entailed, though you mainly just wanted to hear him explain it. 

“Some say it lies in the fourth dimension. It isn’t tangible or something that can be touched. It lies between everything, every atom, every cell, every city and forest and mountain and even between the crevasses of one’s own mind and soul. A place like this is full of divinity and complete attainment and the way it is reached has been theorized by many.” Jungkook’s meticulous readjustments of the telescope had you wondering which constellations he was searching for, or maybe he’d been looking for Venus or Mars or the Moon. “Some say you arrive there in your dreams, or when you reach enlightenment, or when death draws its curtain on you…  I-I don't know why but I’ve always thought that it was stitched into the sky. Far beyond our galaxy, maybe the Astral Plane has situated itself in between each star, just like it does our souls, and exists as the vastness of outer space.” It turned out he wasn't looking for any of those things, he was looking for the Astral Plane.

Could the heat rising throughout your body be merely adoration, or was it something along the lines of a forlorn longing? When he spoke, you felt this sensation growing dense in your bones; you felt a gravitation towards him.

“Seems about right to me.” Fondness had stained your tone which filled some void in Jungkook’s hungry heart, and he’d failed to predict you were the one that would be able to settle it. “Maybe we’ll never reach the Astral Plane, but at least I’m here with you.”

When you said this, the hairs on his arms pointed towards the ceiling. For once in a very, very long time, Jungkook felt a euphoric resurgence striking through the catacombs of his soul and hot tears dripping down the expanse of his cheeks, to the tip of his chin, and onto the glass scope that was shielding this sudden emotional combustion. He blinked away the tears to the best of his abilities and turned away from you and the telescope and the sky. Jungkook felt the push of air from your movement towards him, but he shifted further away. 

“Are yo-”

“I found a cluster of stardust, go look.” He averted you from him and you always fell victim to every trick in his book. 

“Wow, that’s amazing!” The grip you had on the telescope was firm, like you were trying to hold onto the stars themselves.

“Amazing.” He said. This reiteration wasn’t for the stars, however. He wondered if you knew that. He wondered if you could feel how consumed he was by your magnificence under the full moon that reigned with gentleness over the waves. The once wild tides, now moving with the same serenity and romance embedded into Jungkook and this lighthouse. He wondered if you could see he had been emotionally disrobed and bearing all his affection for you. And he wondered how he was so okay with that.

Six o’clock didn’t feel like six o’clock. Your eyes that struggled to keep open told you otherwise, so again you and him were parting ways as the sun had begun dawning over the horizon and there were no more stars to fill the hours slipping away. Jungkook did all he could to compose himself. He’d offered to walk you out; you reached the door that led to the dewy, Spring air awaiting your departure from the lighthouse.

“Wait, ___!” This exclamation echoed louder than the beating of his crimson heart. After stepping through the threshold, you turned to meet his gaze, teary-eyed from what you guessed was from lack of sleep. Teary-eyed from what he knew was because of another egregious goodbye. “Thank you.”

This moment seemed fitting to test the theory that actions speak louder than words. This moment called for the lapse of courage in need to act, not speak. This moment was the moment when you finally expressed the thankfulness that, to you, seemed to outweigh his by pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. It was much colder than your lips and the docile warmth of the morning, but once you pulled away the warmth had stained his cheek. 

Jungkook felt like every cell in his body was evaporating into the space around him. Like the way a fire would extend its heat into the air or the way Spring melted away the frost ridden Winter, your act had covered him in a blanket of love and refuge from the loneliness once vaulting his heart. And it certainly spoke louder than words; all the words in every book Jungkook had ever read and the words left unsaid and the words passing between everyone in the universe.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Hermit! You helped me see Orion’s Belt up close and personal!” You called as your strides began a slow fleet from a laughing Jungkook. You waved, now standing a generous distance from him, and he found this gave him the space needed to finally let his tears fall. 

“I love you.” He whispered, hoping the wind would carry it to your ears and heart.

A revelation had overcome him, and no matter how many times he tried to wipe the tears away, they’d be instantly replenished like a stream of water rushing from a conquered dam, spilling over endlessly, with all control suspended in the air around him.

Was it finally here? The last, best thing?

---

A week after the stargazing, your mind had mapped out the stars as you too searched for that Astral Plane. To you, Jungkook’s proposition of it being strewn in the night sky was the only theoretical that made sense. You wanted to flaunt your newfound passion for this concept he’d introduced, and admittedly - and more importantly - you wanted to kiss him again, leading to yet another blissful walk down the seashore to the lighthouse. The air was warm but not humid, carrying a breeze that evened out the sun’s heat nicely. A few pillows of clouds were cascading through the sky, never staying in one spot for too long; you’d come to appreciate each one’s temporary presence and when they passed, you grew to appreciate that as well. The gaze once fixed on the sand had now traveled to the waves of much gentler motion than ever before. 

This walk, unlike the dozens of others, felt different. The streets looked lovely and the air felt clean in your chest, giving you a pleasant journey far more intimate than the last. Then you realized, it felt like you were walking back home.

When you grew closer to the lighthouse, you noticed the curtains had been drawn which was strikingly unusual for a sunny day such as this one. This was a passing observation as you made your way to the base of the lighthouse. 

Through the door to the room before the lighthouse, you were taken aback to find your armchair sitting in front of the table. you walked up to discover a single, folded parchment sealed with a red wax stamp labeled with your name along the top of the paper.

This felt eerie, for some reason, and you called out his name only to be met with silence, before sitting yourself down and unsealing the note.

It read in his voice:

My Dearest, ___

I wrote this to relay a lot of things left unsaid. The first being goodbye. I’m sorry to have to leave you like this, though no amount of remorse could possibly appease my actions.

Your heartbeat had grown rampant, until your eyes read those words. It was then when it stopped altogether. Still, you continued to read.

I kept things from you like the fact that our encounter in the town’s square was all but coincidental. The truth is scary, and my truth would have turned you away from the beginning. It was selfish, I admit, but I do not think I could have endured such a loss. Forgive me for keeping you in the dark all this time, but I am beyond gratified for what you granted me in spite of that.

Maybe it might seem cruel. You are not alone in feeling that — never alone. But, we were never meant to spend every Sunday morning, or Friday evening, or Wednesday afternoon together to watch the waves float along with the hours lost reading to you; I knew this was not the end of your story, just mine. 

The books I have read over and over have imprisoned me in search of the “next best thing”. To my dismay, I thought I had run out of time to find it. But then you came along. You helped set me free by allowing me to live out a few more “best things” through the way you shared your life with me, unselfishly, warmly, kindly— You helped me move on.

I know you too will move on from this. I hope I could at least leave you with the tools and courage to find each “next best thing” in store. If not that, then this lighthouse, open to you and only you, and a myriad of good memories to ease our parting. I know in my heart you deserve nothing less.

I hope you find contentment somewhere in the sea or on the sand or in the stars, or perhaps somewhere in between.

Once you do, we will meet again within the Astral Plane, my love. I swear it. And if you miss me, just look through the telescope and find me woven in the spaces amidst Orion’s Belt.

Thank you. Again and again I thank you and it is still not enough. Thank you for you, for your warmth, for your salvation, for your smile, for your endless questions, for re-introducing me to the aroma of vanilla and patchouli but it was not as sweet as your companionship, for putting good use of the right armchair and the view from our window, for making the odyssey a little less lonely to read, and thank you for stepping into my lighthouse and my life.

Don't you see, it was you. You were my last, best thing.

with love and sorrow,

Jeon Jungkook

Before you got to the end of the letter, you were racing up the spiraling stairs, ignoring the burn in your tightened chest, how the air in the lighthouse had suffocated your lungs. The dizziness that blurred your eyes had not slowed your climb up the stairs, and the wetness of your tears now seeping into his letter.

You reached the top, The Odyssey greeting you on the chair Jungkook would have been seated in. Your breaths were staggered and warm, filling the mournful emptiness of the lighthouse. 

“Jungkook.” You whispered. You begged for a reply. The curtains were drawn over the window, like never before, and exposed a bronze plaque peeking out from the end of the fabric. You pushed the drapes aside to read what was engraved into the metal plate and the first page of The Odyssey that hung below it.

In loving memory of our beloved son, Jeon Jungkook. May he rest in peace. 1918-1942.

The note below read: 

The Odyssey

Jeon and ___ Lighthouse.

You pieced the puzzle together, finally. And with that, came the final picture, so beautiful and mesmerizing and everything you could have ever hoped for, and more.

“Jungkook.” You repeated as a bid of farewell, with a heart full of satisfaction and content, and Jungkook. You pressed the letter to your chest in hopes his words would mend your aching heart. 

And it was true, he was not your last best thing, only one of them. 

But he was undoubtedly your most cherished and beloved best thing.

#bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts #bts imagines #bts writing #bts scenarios #bts one shot #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts au #jungkook strangers to lovers #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #the lighthouse #rubycoast #reader x jungkook #jungkook fluff

[yikestripes]

For the First Time

humans of tumblr, friends and fans of my blog, mamma mia here we go again. ya girl is BACK and better than ever with her new obsession, criminal fuckin minds. this was such a fun one shot to write; enjoy!

Summary: You’ve been working for the FBI for 3 years now, and have never seen the sights. Spencer,  of course, volunteers to take you along for a wild ride. 

“Spence!” You called as you entered the BAU, your bag swinging wildly on your shoulder as your crazed (Y/E/C) eyes searched for the lanky doctor. Although it was mildly quiet despite the typing on a few keyboards and phones ringing here and there, the office was nowhere near as excitable and filled as it usually was on a Friday morning. The man in question poked his head out of the break room, quickly accompanied by the rest of his body as he strode across the catwalk.

“Yeah, (Y/N)?” He materialized at your side and held out a coffee mug with your name on it. You grabbed it gratefully and sucked down a few gulps before recollecting your thoughts.

“I was up half the night thinking about it, and I think I finally understand!” Spencer gave you a confused look, scrunching up his face as he thought through whatever it was he said that could have confused you.

Compared to the other members of the BAU, you were the only one who understood what he was saying at least 95% of the time- something that Spencer found both impressive and is what initially drew him to you. Here you were, 3 years later, on the anniversary of your joining the BAU. Little did you know that this was the day Spencer had realized his feelings toward you were a lot more than friendly. Nevertheless, the boy genius was terrified of how you would react, whether that be to laugh at him or possibly worse- feel sorry for him.

Taking in the confused look on his face, you giggled and your hand flew to his arm in excitement.

“The Star Trek theory you were talking about to Morgan and I yesterday- I finally figured it out!” Spencer smiled and took a careful sip of his coffee, taking in the easy-going smile that was plastered across your face and the accompanying gleam in your eyes. They say that the eyes are the window to the soul, something that based on his current job, was very apparent to him. He could spend hours staring into your eyes, whether it be to distinguish each different color that presented itself and understand why your particular set of eyes were so beautiful, or to finally get some sort of a grasp on why he fell so hard for you so quickly. It would take a lifetime, he thought, to finally understand what made you so different from all the other people he had met in his lifetime.

Meanwhile, you had been going on for a solid 3 minutes about his Star Trek theory, he could only nod along, buried so far in his own thoughts that he couldn’t even hear you.

“You know?” You finally said, taking a second to catch your breath. Just like Spencer, you had a hard time with knowing when to stop talking without being told to do so. You tended to ramble, so if no one stopped you, you would go on forever.

Spencer simply smiled.

“Yeah. I know.”

Several hours had passed when you were finally able to move the mountain of paperwork from your desk to Hotch’s. You grinned, this was one of your favorite parts of paperwork days. You fiddled with the stack in your hand to reach up and knock on Hotch’s door, when you heard him already saying come in from the other side. He knew you were coming, considering how clockwork-like your work habits were.

“Hey Hotch, these need to be processed for Monday.” Hotch tried his best not to crack a smile at the smirk displayed on your face, and give you the pleasure of making him laugh. He thought you were hilarious, constantly having everyone in stitches throughout the day to make the reality of your careers a little less heavy- which is one of the reasons every person at the BAU loved you immediately. You were sarcastic and creative, and had great dad jokes to boot, ready at any opportunity.

“Thank you. Does Garcia need to see any of this to upload it into the system?” He asked, returning to the stone man he was previously.

“Nope.” You popped the P as you headed towards the door.

“(Y/L/N).” Hotch said. You turned around and he hadn’t even looked up at you. “You did some excellent work this week; grab Reid on your way out, I don’t want to see either of you for at least 3 days.” You grinned and wished him a good weekend, as he watched you walk out smiling. He shook his head and buried his head back into his work.

“Hey Professor,” You called as you bounded down the stairs. Reid flashed you a tight lipped smile as he so often did, and raised his eyebrows in response to the nickname.

“We’re done for 3 whole days!” You said as you packed your stuff haphazardly into your backpack. Spencer grinned and began packing his own things much more meticulously.

“Do you have anything exciting planned for this weekend?” He asked.

“Nah, unless you count going home to Gerald something exciting.” You said with a laugh. Reid smiled at the thought of the orange tabby that was oh so fond of him.

“Did you know that cats are actually an excellent judge of character? In a newspaper article I read from the early 90s, cats are actually extremely perceptive of humans upon first or second meeting, meaning that they can distinguish between good and bad based on a human character and emotion.” He said.

“I KNEW my cat hated Steven for a reason!” You said, recalling how your cat would do nothing but glare and his at your ex boyfriend, who ended up using you. “Do you have anything going on?” You asked. Spence shook his head, before looking at you with a small grin.

“How long have you been living in Virginia?” He asked.

“I don’t know, 3 years? Whenever I started working here I guess, why?” You hadn’t really given it much thought, it seemed like whatever life you had been living before this one seemed so far away. It hadn’t originally occurred to you that today was your 3rd anniversary of being with the BAU, and meeting Spencer.

“Have you ever been to the tourist sights?” He asked, pausing his stride outside of the elevator. You thought about it for a minute, and realized quickly where he was going with this.

“Nope! I always thought they were way too crowded for me whenever I got the free time to go.”

Spencer grinned. “Well then, Miss (Y/L/N), today is your lucky day.” You grinned back. No idea could have been better for your third anniversary of knowing and secretly loving Doctor Spencer Reid.

You had parted ways at your cars to shower and change, before meeting up around 8 pm so Spencer could show you around without tourists.

His hands were deep in his pockets as usual, as he carefully explained each monument in great detail. Considering you were a history major in college before going to FBI training and schooling, you were appreciative of Spencer’s long winded rambling, even able to inject your own knowledge in the quiet moments.

“And last but certainly not least, one of my favorite places in the city.” He said as you entered the World War II memorial. The water from the fountain was glistening in the moonlight as you took a deep breath, both from the breathless feeling Spencer gave you whenever he was around, and the sight before you. The stars and the moon lit up the night sky before you as the memorial itself framed it. No wonder this was one of Spencer’s favorite spaces, it was breathtaking. Then again, so was he. Very fitting.

“Spence…” You began, unsure where to go. You took a seat on the stairs behind you and took in the feeling in that moment, where you felt so relaxed and happy, beside your favorite person in the world.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He said, looking at you and smiling softly. “Really, really beautiful.” he whispered. You glanced in his direction to see his attention was focused on you, not the sky or the fountain beneath it. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“(Y/N),” Spencer swallowed hard and licked his lips quickly, a habit he had when he was nervous about something he had to say. “I-I don’t know how to say this but I’ve kind of been in love with you for about 2 years now. Sure, I knew you were beautiful the first day you stepped into the BAU but once I got to know you, the real you, when you really let your guard down and allowed me to fully understand how truly intelligent, kind, and hilarious you are is when I fell hard for you and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it but I’ve always been so afraid that you wouldn’t fe-” You grabbed Spencer’s face and pressed your lips onto his, immediately feeling him soften into the kiss after a moment of anxious surprise.

You pulled away first, your eyes wide and your mouth hanging slightly agape. Spencer just looked mildly surprised, before softening into a shy smile.

“I love you too, Spence. I knew the day I met you, that you were going to be the most unforgettable human being I had ever known.” You said softly, rubbing your thumb gently across his cheek.

“Um,” He looked down and flicked his eyes upwards, gently tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. “Can I kiss you again?”

You grinned and met him halfway, the second kiss equally as sweet as the first.

#spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #agent hotchner #agent reid #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #agent derek morgan #agent morgan #penelope garcia #penelope x derek #penelope garcia x derek morgan #jason gideon #agent gideon #jj #agent jennifer jareau #agent jj #agent prentiss #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x aaron hotchner