#if this person approached and asked if they could sell my work i wouldn't give a fuck personally provided they give me credit and or a link
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Magggennnttaaaa!
#before the pandemic i sold a lot of original paintings and such at conventions and shows in my area#well some locals at a gathering today kindly informed me someone has been selling copies of my plague doctor piece#and some of my mini prints and presenting them as their own same with stickers#its not only ai we gotta worry about now even the damn locals are doing this shit#i got a show in may coming around the corner and I'm thinking i might not even sell paintings and stuff anymore if this is going to happen#im a creator that loves collaboration and thinks art should be free to enjoy#if this person approached and asked if they could sell my work i wouldn't give a fuck personally provided they give me credit and or a link#back to my stuff hell if people want to print my work if they cant afford it go for it#but fuck dude you don't just claim you did all that work as if it was yours#this was disheartening news#and several other local artists found out too at this venue that their work had been turned into stickers that vendors bought off amazon#ill hop off the soap box in a minute#still scrambling to get kofi stuff set and donation links prepared#thanks for your patience everyone#im getting out of a depressive funk too with what happened at my work place#and im gonna be speaking with a legal aid rep next week#magenta is my safe word for venting
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As an agent, how do you recommend authors handle review spaces? Most writers are also readers, but I understand it's probably looked down upon to go around giving 2-3 star reviews to who are essentially your colleagues. I enjoy having the data to look back on of my reads, but as I plan to be published in the future, I'm wondering if I need to make this private and find a private system.
A bit more broadly than your ask: In my personal opinion, writers may be readers, but reviewing spaces such as GoodReads, etc, are not for them. I would strongly suggest that for mental health purposes, authors not only NOT EVER go on GoodReads, but also block it from their computer like it is a naughty website. NSFW BABE. Don't look up your own reviews, don't look up your friend's reviews, for the LOVE OF GOD don't RESPOND to any reviews of your books or your friend's books you happen to see, and unless you have something glowing to say about a book that will uplift the author, for Pete's sake keep it to yourself. If you have potentially snarky things to say about a book or author, journal about it. Text it to the group chat. But don't post it.
As for your more specific ask: I totally understand wanting to keep book-reading data -- I do! I use the Reading List app, which is private. StoryGraph I just got but it feels like a nice interface, I'll be playing around with it, and I'd happily add books I'm reading, my TBR, etc -- but I would either keep my account private to whatever extent is possible, or I just wouldn't rate the books on that. Other people use cool personal spreadsheets, or cool notebooks. This is MY data -- I'm not keeping it to impress or inform anyone else, so why would it need to be public?
When I find books that I particularly adore, I'm delighted to post about them on socials, but I don't need or want to talk smack about books publicly, that would be totally inappropriate coming from me, and since I know and work with SO MANY editors, other agents, authors, etc -- There's pretty much NO WAY I could get away with that without inadvertently insulting somebody. And while you may be "aspiring" now -- the longer you stay in publishing spaces, the more people YOU will know and meet, too.
TRUE STORY from just this week: I was at a Little Free Library and found an old Sweet Valley High book - BEWARE THE WOLFMAN, #106. It has a hilarious jacket and cover copy, I had no idea that the Wakefield twins went through a paranormal "American Werewolf In London" era, I was obviously obsessed and posted about it on Facebook, with a pic of the front and back of the jacket. Now, this is a book that is WELL out of print, it was published when I was in high school thirty years ago, it was a friends only post and I'm not friends with the author, like, literally who would I be insulting if I made fun of this book? Oh -- well potentially my friend Dan, who chimed in immediately to say that he in fact wrote the funny jacket copy. My friend Elise, who is an agent now, but was Dan's boss in 1994 and in charge of these books. OH ALSO, I am friends with the publisher. Ahahahah OK! Yay! Luckily it truly is a bonkers book and they know that so it was all in good fun and haha teehee, but like -- it could have been WAY worse!
ANYwhoo, you asked what I think, that's what I think. This is just how I approach it. "As an agent" I would never tell my authors what they can or can't do with their lives - but this is MY philosophy: we're all here to SELL books, not bash them, so if you don't have anything nice to say, keep it to yourself, because believe me when I say, it's extremely upsetting for all parties when you give a book a shitty review and then are seated next to the author at a publisher dinner later. TRUST ME, I KNOW.
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No Hypotheses
It all started when I got distracted sneaking out of the house.
I was on the bus and I looked out the window to see a sign outside Costco that read: WARNING - unattended bags will be taken into parking lot and detonated. Persons will be reported to law enforcement should detonation of unattended belongings result in loss of life or damage to property. I missed my stop because I couldn't stop giggling at the sign.
This is not my first time getting lost on the bus. I know better than to wait around at the bus stop if the next bus isn't gonna arrive within the next five minutes. I know to keep an eye on my watch. I know to check schedules. I know not to go too far away from the bus stop.
The next bus wouldn't pull in for another 45 minutes. The stop was right in front of this shop in Chinatown. I stuck my head in the door and discovered that the shop sells cursed stuff. They have a doll that trashes your other toys if you don't play with it, some jewelry that makes misfortune happen to you, and brandy that makes you have nightmares if you're mean to people.
I looked toward the back of the store and saw a curtain. The sign next to it read: Lethal goods - No children under the age of 18 past this point.
The clerk took one look at me and rolled her eyes. "If you're looking for gremlins, we don't sell them. Yes, even though we were featured in the movie Gremlins, we don't sell gremlins," she said, hoping she wouldn't have to deal with yet another dumb teenager who thinks movies are real. "That was a movie."
"Well, good to know, but that's not why I'm here." I chucked, "I have a bunch of people on my shit list, and I need something to seriously teach them a lesson." I noticed the clerk's name tag read: MaryBeth.
MaryBeth seemed intrigued. She pulled out a set of silver cufflinks with blue enamel studs. "Well, we have these cufflinks," she said, "These will guarantee every pigeon in town will use you for target practice."
My eyes widened. "That'd be perfect for Virginia," I know you don't get cufflinks for a girl, but she can pull it off. Besides, Virginia seriously pissed me off.
At the end of last year, she approached me, demanding that I share my swimming goggles. I clutched them to my chest, visibly overwhelmed, and told her to back off. A teacher overheard the commotion, stepped in, and insisted I give her the swimming goggles. The teacher said, "She lost hers and just wanted to borrow them to find hers."
I gave Virginia the goggles, but I never got them back. I didn't find out she stole them until I spotted her using my goggles the following day. She pretended that she lost mine and bought new ones. She had at least three different stories of how that happened, none of which were believable. In the end, I had to buy new ones.
I felt my phone vibrate. I saw a text from Dad. "Hey, are you at that weird store in Chinatown that sells cursed stuff?" he asked.
It surprised me that Dad heard of this place. "Um, yes," I texted back. I couldn't figure out why he didn't demand I leave.
He replied instantaneously. "Can you see if they have any cursed wedding bands for men that look like this? We need it for your sister's wedding". Next to the message was an image of a man's wedding band that looked like two gilded blades of grass.
I recognized the design. My sister Mairead was getting married because her boyfriend Rand would die in exactly three months. I helped her purchase rings for both her and her fiance.
Our parents thought it was stupid of her to marry Rand when he was going to die in three months. "It's like buying a Ferrari that you're only going to drive once," they'd tell her. She never listened. She was in love with this guy.
They tried to split them up. They tried. Nothing worked. All they could do now was do something to stop the wedding.
I purchased the cufflinks and left. On the bus ride home, Dad texted me again, asking for the phone number of the store that sold cursed items. He told me that if I gave him the number, both he and Mom would look the other way at me sneaking out of the house. I gave him the number, which turned out to be a stupid stupid decision.
The wedding went ahead as planned. Mairead walked down the aisle to the song "Foolish Games" by Jewel. I have no idea why she picked that song because that is totally not a wedding song.
I thought they had laid off and just let her marry the guy. Their arguments never made sense and seemed cold-hearted. I hoped they had accepted that no wedding is a waste of money if you're marrying the person you love.
That is, of course, until after Rand put his ring on. Somebody said under his breath, "But all of them have been deceived, for another ring was made."
At first, everybody thought it was some joker in a hobbit costume who thought it would be funny to crash the wedding and quote Lord of the Rings. They looked around, but we failed to see any idiots cosplaying as hobbits. Then we thought it was probably a stupid kid who thought it would be funny to quote Lord of the Rings during the ceremony. That seemed more believable.
I felt myself die inside. I was the only one who knew the truth. That's no kid, I thought to myself, that is my dad.
After I gave Dad the phone number for the store that sold the cursed stuff, he called them and ordered that ring that would kill the person wearing it. The ring Rand had been given wasn't the one Mairead and I picked out. It was the dupe he bought at the cursed store. The curse on the ring would kill Rand within the hour. Once Rand put it on, he only had one hour left to live.
Neither Rand nor Mairead had any idea. They still said I do. The minister still pronounced them husband and wife. Rand still kissed his bride.
We took the bus to EndZone Sports Bar for the reception. The curse kicked in 30 minutes after the ceremony. The bus driver kicked everybody off the bus because Rand threw up. It took the bus driver 15 minutes to get Rand off the bus. In those 15 minutes, Rand couldn't move, couldn't even breathe, and eventually died.
The bus stopped halfway between the chapel and the restaurant. People gathered around as the driver changed the banner to read: call 911 emergency alert police. The people in the area had no idea what happened but suspected there was a story. The emergency was Rand dying on the bus.
Even though we were nowhere near the ocean, Rand's autopsy report listed his cause of death as cone shell poisoning. Nobody suspected any foul play.
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Small Victories Pt. 3
The paring is Han Jisung x F!Reader. The reader isn't into K-Pop but when your best friend gets your friend group a position in a contest to win a chance to preform with stray kids. You may not want to do it but you will do anything for Gwen. What can happen its not like you'll win.
Talks about some social anxiety also im most likely posting two parts today, hopefully
This was the final week before the competition and I was starting to get scared that we might win. Today we had to go into the JYP Company building for interviews. Riding in the car with three of the seven other members in our group. Staring out the window all I could think about was how today was going to take forever. We are one of four groups competing, that's so many people. Hopefully we would be the first group on the roster. While I was stuck in my thoughts I felt Gwen tap my shoulder.
“Hey are you there, we've been talking to you.” I looked at her then to my other friends. They all seemed concerned.
“Sorry guys!” I scratched the back of my head. “I was just thinking about how stressful today is going to be.”
Mindy looked at me from the passenger seat. “It's going to be okay!” she smiled at me reassuringly.
Piper waved to me from the front seat, “yeah they are gonna love you kid!” Piper was the oldest out of all of us. She was 24 while the rest of us were 21 or 22. We often looked up to her like she was our mom, she was perfect for that role.
Gwen leaned over and whispered to me “I know it's a lot of people, that makes you anxious.” She places her hand on my shoulder. “Just have fun and it'll be okay, I promise.” I just have to put on an act before I know how to sell myself. Working as a commissions artist I constantly have to sell myself.
Assuring my friends id be okay we arrived at the building. Getting out we were escorted inside. I was shocked to not see the other groups in the waiting room. Maybe this wouldn't take long, I thought as I sat next to gwen.
She smiled at me “So did you tell Peter about the contest?” she asked me innocently.
Quickly looking at her embarrassed. “No, I told him I'd be busy with family today.”
“So you lied?” she asked me, raising her eyebrow at me.
Shocked, I brought my hand to my chest. “I'll have you know all of you bitches are my family.” throwing my hands out i shrugged, “so technically not a lie.”
“Still a lie!” Fefe added from the chair to my left. The group laughed together while I rolled my eyes.
“Shut it all of you.” I crossed my arms as a JYP representative approached us.
“Hello ladies!” The man smiled at us waving. “I would like for you all to break up into two groups. We will be conducting the interview in two different rooms.” we all nodded in response quickly breaking up. “Perfect! Just be yourselves I feel like you all will do great!” He led my group to a room telling us some one would call us in the room when they were ready.
Looking at my group, it was Gwen, Me, Amber, and Mindy. We all looked nervous, I just wondered who would be sitting behind that table. A few minutes passed and we heard a distant ‘come in’ from the other side of the door. Walking in the room there was a table where four men sat. It was Felix, Han, Chan, and Chagbin. On the other side of the table about six feet away was a long couch where we all quickly sat. sitting down i looked down at my hands when i looked up i made eye contact with Han. He was staring at me confused. I began to wonder if something was on my face. He realized where he was and snapped his gaze away from mine.
“Thank you so much for being here today ladies!” Chan said this warmly, smiling at us. “We have a few questions for you today!” we all smiled back at him saying hello and waving.
“Let's start with the easiest one: what are your names?” Felix said giving all of us a welcoming smile, Felix was very pretty in person. We told them our names. They all smiled at us telling us we had beautiful names. When I said my name Han seemed shocked but he didn't say anything.
After a few generic questions we all had a few good laughs. Then we got into more complex questions. “This is a good one!” Han exclaimed “give us one quote to describe yourself.” I wasn't expecting a question like that to be honest. Usually the questions at these interviews are surface level. Going down the line it finally got to me
“I feel as if I'm made to understand but not to be understood.” I looked down quickly after giving my answer. Gwen reached over and squeezed my hand looking over at her and I smiled.
“That was really deep Y/N.” Han said, looking at me softly. “I completely understand that feeling.” I smiled at him weakly shocked he identified with it. We continued answering questions for about 10 more minutes and the interview was over. We all smiled and said our goodbyes leaving the room rejoining the other half of our group. As we walked back to our car we talked about how well our interviews went. Getting in the car I felt my phone go off in my pocket.
It had been a few hours since I heard from Peter. It bothered me that he was so upset with me over a joke. It's just an opinion about a K-Pop group, it's not that serious. Me and the girls were having a sleep over at Mindy's house. Her parents were loaded and often not home so this was a normal occurrence for us. All sprawled out on the big living room couch we were watching a scary movie. I enjoyed scary movies. They were some of my favorites. Living alone made me very hesitant to watch them so this is the first one I've seen in awhile. Gwen never liked them much; she was completely desensitized; she found them boring. I blame that on all the horror games she plays.
“Damn you guys.” she said, breaking everyone's emersion. “Go look at Felix's twitter, some drama is popping off.” instantly we all pulled out our phones going to the bird app. Felix made a post and Han was popping off in the comments at the other boys.
I did find it a little weird that shortly after my conversation with Peter this suddenly happened. Again there’s no way they are the same person I refuse to ever think otherwise. Amber laughed at the post claiming they were probably kidding. She had to be right. I mean Han literally called Felix cute in his replies. While everyone talked back and forth I sat there and pondered if it would be bad if it was han. I would like to point out in no way did I have a crush on Han Jisung, but I did have a crush on Peter. If in a delusional world they were the same person. There were both pros and cons to this situation. The pros would be that he isn't bad looking, he has the same interest as me, and he's funny. The cons on the other hand are he's an idol and I don't want that pressure. He would have already lied to me about his name so can i trust him. Also he would know i've already lied to him, if he was Peter then he could clearly see i was not at my parents today.
Not to mention I don't want to ruin this competition for my friends. They've worked so hard I couldn't bear to ruin that because I stumbled upon him in public. Pulling myself out of my intrusive thoughts I focused back on the movie. Once the credits rolled we all decided to try and get some sleep. Splitting up between three guest rooms and Mindy’s own we all settled in for the night. I was rooming with Gwen as we usually do. We were both laying on our phones when she set her phone down.
She looked over at me, making me lower my own device. “Did you think the interview was a little weird?” When she asked me this I was confused we all agreed the interview went well.
“I thought it went great.'' I looked at her concern and started to pick apart everything I said earlier that day.
Shaking her head at me, “no, it was awesome I just mean.” she paused and looked down like she was trying to find a way to say it. “I dont know I noticed how Han was looking at you.” Oh no here we go again she's going to make some claim about Peter. “He seemed like he was in complete shock that he was sitting across from you.”
As much as I want to deny what she said, it was the truth even I caught his expression. “Yeah, I saw that too.” I laid on my back looking at the ceiling letting out a sigh.
“Look, I don't want to make assumptions but.” there's always a but, “we need to figure out if they are the same person.” Looking over at her expression I could tell she was serious.
Quickly snapping my gaze away from hers I felt panic set in. When Gwen was serious about something she was usually right. I really didn't want her to be right. For the next half hour we tried to come up with a plan to figure out if Peter was Han. We settled on attempting to get him to meet me in person but there is a chance he'll cover his face again. Gwen argued that I've seen Han in person now, maybe there would be a way for me to identify him. Now all i had to do was wait for Peter to stop being mad at me.
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LOST and FOUND - Chapter 1 - Part 3
*Warning Adult Content*
I awoke to my cell-phone ringing and buzzing in my pocket.
"Harrison?" I groggily called out.
I blinked, everything coming back to me quite quickly.
I did that a lot, called for him when I woke up like I expected him to come to my side and brush my hair back as I yawned, trying wake up.
He had been a morning person, always up before me.
I whimpered, knowing that he was never going to be there to wake me up ever again.
My phone wouldn't stop ringing, so I pulled it out and answered, barely looking at the caller ID to see that it was my brother.
"Hello?"
"Hey, bro," Liam said.
"Did I wake you? You sound sleepy."
"Yeah," I replied.
"But it's fine. I was just napping."
I smoothed down a loose string on the blanket, forcing myself not to pick at it.
"Have you been sleeping enough?"
"I'm fine, Liam," I said.
"You're not fine but I'll let that lie slide. Mom wants me to talk you into coming to the family barbecue on Saturday," he told me.
I could tell he was approaching it carefully.
"Oh, no. I... I couldn't. I can't drive that far."
My family lived an hour and a half away if you took a car.
Two hour bus ride but I hadn't ridden the bus in years.
Liam sighed.
"I'll come pick you up, Beau."
"No, no... I don't want to be any trouble."
"Beau, it's not a problem. We all miss you. We never see you and you're all alone over there."
I bit my lip.
I wasn't sure if I even really wanted to see my family.
They had never really approved of my relationship with Harrison.
They had always said he was too old for me and when he died they all gave me looks that said 'I told you so' as if they had expected him to die at fifty-five.
I hadn't been able to stand the looks, so I stayed away as much as I could.
Liam had never been that way though.
He was protective of me and called Harrison a pervert at first but then he told me he saw how much I loved him.
He was the only supportive one in my family.
"I'm... not sure," I finally said.
"I'm not giving you a choice. I'll be there at ten to pick you up."
I sighed.
He changed the subject.
"How's work going?"
"Fine."
As well as it could be going with having zero work experience.
I had done nothing for the past seven years.
Harrison took care of everything and I didn't even realize what a useless waste of space I was until he died.
I couldn't do anything for myself and that was glaringly obvious when I started working at the coffee shop two months ago.
Harrison hadn't left enough money for the bills to have been paid for more than a couple months, so I'd had to get a job.
Not that I could pay the bills with my minimum wage salary but at least I could buy food and keep the electricity on.
I had been so terrible as a barista at first but everyone at work had been so patient and nice even though they had no idea who I was or what I'd just gone through.
I hadn't gotten much better after working there for two months but I hadn't gotten fired yet.
"Just fine?" asked Liam.
"Yeah, just fine."
"Do you like your coworkers?"
"Sure. They're nice."
"Have you hung out with anyone recently?"
I held in another sigh.
"No," I answered honestly.
"I mostly just stay at home."
He was the one that ended up sighing.
"It would be good for you to get out, Beau."
I didn't say anything.
I just smoothed the little stray string over and over.
We were both silent for a couple minutes.
I hoped he would get tired of talking to me and just tell me goodbye but that didn't seem to be happening.
"Have you decided what to do with the bookstore?" he asked.
I tugged at my hair and whispered...
"No."
"Beau, it's just sitting there. You could sell..."
"Listen, I have to go Liam. There's someone at the door. I'll see you Saturday."
And with that I hung up.
I breathed deeply to keep from panicking.
I didn't need this kind of stress right now.
'What kind of stress, Beau? Life? You worthless piece of fucking shit.'
I sighed and rubbed my eyes.
I checked my cell-phone for the time, seeing that it was three pm.
I'd slept for three hours.
I was a little hungry so I got some peanut butter and crackers, curled back up on the chair and turned on the T.V.
I sat there for hours and stared at the T.V.
It started getting dark and I felt a little hungry again, thankfully there was more peanut butter and crackers for dinner.
I sighed as I took my dinner to the coffee table, switching to the couch.
Harrison would be so mad at me if he saw what I was eating now.
I lived off peanut butter and lunchables or whatever I could put in the microwave.
Harrison would tan my hide if he knew I wasn't taking care of myself properly but I couldn't cook.
He had cooked all of our meals.
I went from living with my parents to living with Harrison, my mom cooked for me and then Harrison cooked for me.
I had never learned any kitchen skills.
I shoved a cracker in my mouth and kept my attention on the T.V.
If I looked to the side I could see the stack of bills on the dining room table.
I shoved another cracker smothered in peanut butter into my mouth.
Once I was full, I cocooned myself in Harrison's blanket and laid on the couch.
After a few hours I started to drift to sleep.
I yawned and checked the time on my phone to see that it was past ten pm.
I had work at eight am tomorrow so I knew I'd better get some sleep.
I got up, folded the blanket and put it on the back of Harrison's chair and brought my leftover peanut butter and crackers to the kitchen.
I shut the T.V. off and then all the lights off on the way up to the guest room.
I stripped down to my underwear and crawled under the covers.
I set an alarm on my phone and closed my eyes.
I hoped for a dreamless sleep.
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Investing In Real Estate Investors
With the never-ending changes in our Real Estate Markets real estate professionals are starting to pay attention to the sound of new commission streams of income. Some realtors have either shied away or ran-away from such terms as "Cap Rate," & "Cash-on-Cash Returns." Terms that only the 'smart' and 'numbers-oriented people use to determine if a Real Estate purchase is a "Good Deal", or not. A majority of the realtor brethren attended real estate school because they are excited and passionate about the promise of selling real estate and making a fantastic living. That being said "Times are a Changing." Even if you live in a Hot Market where residential real estate sells in 2-3 days there is an old approach to real estate that is growing faster by the day…..Residential Real Estate Investors buy Miami Real Estate .
This deft group of real estate investors is taking real estate and the real estate investment world into a new era! No longer accepting the crazy volatility of the Dow Jones and NASDAQ families. Unwilling to accept the investment practices of their fore-fathers these Investors throw caution to the wind for returns above the traditional 5-6% in their Roth or IRA accounts. These Investors are bold and oftentimes aggressive. Today's Real Estate Investors are all about the fast fix-n-flip, high appreciation, and rock solid monthly cash-flows. Cutting their teeth on investment in their own home-towns is only the beginning as the Serious Investors turn to points outside their own back-yards to other regions that demonstrate greater promise and higher returns. You may say well how does this older adult view their investment opportunities? For starters the age of these stealth hunters ranges from 28 to 68. From "Rich Dad-Poor Dad" book series to Trumps magical presence on "The Apprentice," the young real estate entrepreneurs are making their dreams happen to the tune of 3-5 acquisitions a year! Got your attention now? The typical Investor has good to great credit scores. Excellent cash reserves or hidden resources of partners with cash, and a willingness to make the deal happen at nearly any cost. The best kept secret of all is that these investing beasts travel in packs. Where you see one another is very close behind. In other words they know the people that you need to know to grow your investor database even larger. If the real estate professional does a good job the happy clients are likely to refer many of their fellow-investors. Not just investor clients but their regular every-day real estate business. Face it, if you can demonstrate to your clients how adept you are with their largest personal purchase of real estate, then wouldn't you suppose they will be over their "trusted real estate advisors" opinion on buying a basic home, condo or beach house?
So what if you haven't been focused in the real estate investment sector. And you are thinking this all sounds pretty good, let's give it a try. First question to ask yourself is who have your clients been working with or exploring their options of real estate investing with over the past 3-4 months. Statistically 6 out of 10 clients have considered investing in real estate or have already begun doing so before their realtor even has a chance to blink an eye. Got your attention now? How about the fact that in less than one year I increased my annual commissions by 30% by just positioning myself within my primary data-base of clients. All I did was let them know that I was ready, willing and able to begin assisting them with their "Investment Realty" needs. What I learned during the first year was that if I could create an environment for my clients to learn more about real estate investing that they would thank me in a variety of ways….Most importantly they would call me before writing a contract and would make sure that I was involved in every contract that wanted to make a real estate purchase. Before long 30% went up to 45% and further. Even if you aren't interested in expanding your client database, at least consider protecting the turf you have for so long spent tireless amounts of time and financial resources to maintain their allegiance. On the other hand if you are looking at your real estate career and are wondering how to reposition yourself for market growth certainly to go well into 2025, here are a few known facts about how real estate investors can improve your business.
Real Estate Investors are literally everywhere. Successfully tapping into your current database could increase your annual commissions by 20-30%.
Real Estate Investors will be loyal to the professional that helps fill the gap of their investment education. Workshops, mentoring groups, finding the "golden deals" in your market makes a huge impact!
Investing in Real Estate Investors doesn't have to mean that you lose your "typical" residential realtor position. Being a real estate investment specialist means you are smarter than the average realtor in the market.
Mortgage professionals are struggling to provide real estate investors with property deals, so when you can place an investor into a good deal the referrals will begin to flow even more.
Real Estate Investors tend to be more conscientious about your personal time away. Investors also like to shop Monday-Friday for their deals before the "Weekend Warrior" investors get out into the competition. This translates into more normal hours and days of operation for you and your business.
Real Estate Investors buy-sell cycles are shorter than primary home purchasers resulting in more transactions in shorter time-frames.
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#29 or #61 with bords. the more angsty the better i’m ready to be hurt
i cannot do anymore hurt today than this, anon.
29. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”
61. “Is this what you call an apology?”
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You and thomas had always had the best relationship. You weren't just saying that either, everyone around you joked about how gross perfect it all was. You never fought and always trusted each other, which is why you didn’t even hesitate to sign the lease when Ethan, Mark and Mackie approached you with the thought. They practically begged you to move in with them the following year, even concocting some charade of a plan to rotate chores that you’re sure they’d forget about when the time came. It made sense- it was close to campus, close to the rink, so much cheaper than your previous place, and you’d get to live with your best friends- that’s how they’d pitched it to you anyway. The only catch was that they needed a fourth person and luke and duker hadn’t wanted to split up so it was yours for the taking. You had teased them about being their “second option” to which Mark backpedaled like his life depended on it. “This is why i said i should do the talking” ethan had said with an eye roll. Anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t going to agree. Your lease was up, your roommate was moving in with her boyfriend and your own boyfriend had renewed his with his current housemates. It all added up to a perfect situation, or it did until thomas caught wind of it.
He was now on day three of not speaking to you or your future housemates. “Stop Sign, can you ask y/n to pass me the sauce?,” brendan grinned cheekily at you and you flipped him off. He was always going through someone else to stir the pot. He knew well and good what the situation was, that your invite to dinner hadn’t even come from thomas tonight and that the sauce was closer to thomas so you’d have to either reach over him or ask him to hand it to you in order to give it to Mark. Thoroughly enjoying your annoyance he adds, “I’m waiting. Maybe you could ask bords to hand it to me?”
“or maybe you could ask him yourself,” you snap but ask your boyfriend nonetheless. He completes the task wordlessly.
Another hour passes by and the silence from him is deafening. He doesnt even crack a smile when brendan pulls out his phone to record the onion fire volcano like he usually does. You’re surprised he even stays for the meal.
He follows the group to the ben and jerry’s around the corner but doesnt order anything and you wonder why he came in the first place. He stands off to the side looking almost too impassive, while the other guys compare their orders. It was like he was consciously working to not look too far in either direction on the emotion scale and you wished he just wouldnt. Just let it out, that much silence can’t be healthy for anyone. But that’s not how he is. It’s now or never you think, he cant get too mad in an ice cream shop can he?
You approach him slowly like you would an animal you're trying to not scare away. “Hey, can we talk?” you ask him with a gentle hand on his bicep. You hate that he flinches away from your touch just the slightest, making you remove your hand immediately. He also seems to catch the hurt flash across your face because he says his first two words to you in three days. “Yeah, sure”.
You take a second to form your apology/defense case in a way that wouldn't just make him more mad but also wouldn’t sell your side of it short. “Look, i know you’re upset about this but you really have no reason to be-” you had more to say but he cuts you off with a scoff.
“Is that what you call an apology? Because it sucks.”
You hadn’t even gotten to your first point yet and you were already losing control- of yourself and the situation.
“No that is not my apology because im not apologizing, thomas. I’m trying to figure out what you’re so mad about. I can live with them, they‘re your friends and i’m your girlfriend, you should be happy that we all get along so well.”
He sighs and tugs at his hair, a clear sign that he’s frustrated and trying to keep his lid on. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should, y/n. And the fact that you see nothing wrong with living in a house full of guys who arent your boyfriend really says something. And you didnt even think to ask me?”
“I shouldn’t have to ask for your permission when it comes to my living situation, thomas,” you snap. You knew he knew how you felt about your independence. He was on another planet if he thought you were going to apologize for not asking for his permission on this.
“You’re right, you shouldnt have to ask me for my permission because you know i always support you in everything you choose, i am always fine with whatever you do, but you didn’t even think to ask my opinion. you didn’t even mention you were thinking of living with them in passing, you just did it and then didn’t tell me about any of it. i had to hear it from ethan and look like a complete idiot that i didn’t even know where my girlfriend was living the next year. That’s why im mad.”
You shrank back, every single one of his words hitting you like a hammer on the top of your head, making you smaller and smaller. The cracks in his voice matched the ones forming in your heart as you finally heard the emotion coming out. The set of his jaw and the constant twitch of muscle straining with each word he forced out had you wanting to curl into a ball.
He was right. He never questioned anything you did. he was okay with you wearing low cut or cropped tops and dancing with his teammates at bars, he loved when guys watched you when you were out. He wasn’t insecure and you had taken advantage of that. You asked for his opinion on trivial things like your outfits, which he’d always answer, “whatever you feel most confident in, babygirl”, and what to have for lunch while he was away, listening to you rattle off your options and making a suggestion that you almost always turned down. why hadn’t you asked him about this? Why hadn’t you told him about it?
If it were any other topic you could genuinely say that you had forgotten because you tended to forget everything, but this hadn’t left your mind in days. You knew why. you didn’t want to have the conversation. Yes, everything lined up perfectly and worked out for all involved, but the deeper reason was that you wanted a plan for next year, for the next couple of years and you didn’t know if thomas would be a part of it. in fact, it was pretty much guaranteed that he wasn't going to be. The longer you could put off that conversation, the longer it didn’t have to exist, right?
It’s enough to have your head sinking into your hands, hiding from what you were about to admit. He sighs, even mad he doesn’t like seeing you upset. “C’mere. ‘M sorry.” he mumbles, tucking you into his chest. The actions just making you feel worse.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, t. I made this mess. I just don’t want you to leave.”
Your response takes him by surprise and the hand that was rubbing circles on your back halts. “What do you mean? I’m not going anywhere.”
You shake your head, knowing you’re crazy for bringing it up when it’s so far ahead. “But you are. Next year, after the season, whenever. I just wanted some concrete plans and the guys gave those to me. I know i’ll have them next year when you’re not here and yeah, i probably should’ve asked and told you but saying it out loud and having this discussion makes it so real, t.”
You can feel his heart hammer where your hand is resting on his chest. It takes him a second to piece together all that you said and gather his thoughts. the hurt in your voice just a fraction of what he was sure you were feeling. It had been weighing on him too, the thought that this would likely be the last year he was in the same place as you. It was the reason he hadn’t suggested you get a place together, he didn’t think he could handle getting used to living with you just to have it all change in the blink of an eye. He hadn’t realized you had been thinking the same thing.
“i-,” he starts but there’s no easy way to say any of it. “I won’t be here and i’m sorry for that. I wish i could be, mon cheri, i wish i could be. But we’ll figure all that out when it gets closer.” he tells you, pressing his lips to your forehead and stroking his hands through your hair. “We don’t have to talk about it now if you dont want to, but i wish you would’ve told me how you were feeling. You know you can talk to me always, right?” he asks, his knuckles brushing your cheek.
Your eyes flutter shut at the contact you had been missing for days. “I do, but i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
He tilts your chin up to look at him. “Anything that’s a big deal to you, is a big deal to me too. We’re partners in this and i mean, living situations and the future and all that is a big deal. It’s been weighing on me too,” he admits.
“You have?”
“Of course i have, you think i didn’t want to live with you? But it’s like you said, i don’t know when i’ll be leaving and i didn’t want to leave you by yourself. I guess i just never thought of you moving in with Eddy, Mackie, and Mark.” he says the first part like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that he’d want to share his space with you and it warms your heart that he wanted that too. The second part though he says with a grimace that finally makes you laugh. You insist that everything will be fine.
“I still don’t like it, but at least i know you’ll be somewhat taken care of next year living with those three. Either that or you’ll be busy taking care of them instead,” he chuckles, offering a small smile.
You grin, knowing he probably wasn’t wrong, “yeah, do you think it’s too late to back out?”
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hello!! this is my first ever collab and man o man am I happy to be participating in @buttershouse ‘s Magic March with so many talented people!! Please go check out everyone’s work, there’s so many delicious pieces to choose from.
without further a-due, please enjoy this 7k word mash of a magic coffee shop/witch/ college au that I have goin here
pairing: Sero Hanta (with a FUCKIN UNDERCUT !) x gn!reader (afab)
warnings: she’s WHOLESOME, implied sexual themes throughout and then actual smut at the end !! , sex on aphrodisiacs
a/n: thank you so so so so so so so much to @keishinslove @hiddenbluee @spikesbimbo @scorpiomoonslutt and @dymphnasprose for reading and beta-ing this big boi- you guys helped me so much and 🥺🥺 you guys seriously mean the world to me.
tag list: @hiddenbluee @undersero @sawam0chi
“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,” you hum as you steep black tea before shifting to the other part of your station so you could add the guise of vanilla to the milk you were about to steam.
You hear a snort come from your coworker as she looks over to you before smirking, “You think you’re so funny,” she teases while heating up a chocolate muffin for the current order.
“I do, I really do,” you muse, holding the metal pitcher up to the espresso machine’s steam wand. The distinct smell of the liquid luck wafts around as you begin blending it in with the milk; it makes you smile, a comfortingly warm feeling washing over you.
You always hoped people stepped into the shop hearing about the rumors and whole-heartedly believed them; believing in the magic that went into each drink when they ordered something off of the special menus- and that it wasn’t just for the unique taste.
When you first started out, you often heard that with each new employee, the magical feeling tends to die out sooner or later; the happiness of creating spells and potions for others fleeting with the ever-growing pessimism towards all things unexplainable. After working at the shop for three years, one would think the feeling would have caught up to you, instead you felt anything but. With each new regular whose eyes sparkled with excitement as you handed them their unique concoction of a drink, your smile grew wider. Sometimes the familiar faces would come back and whisper about how each drink gave them the right energy to deal with each individual situation… almost like magic. You could do nothing but smile, sometimes a coy little wink was added, exciting the customer more and more. They'd leave with a newfound pep in their step. That's what has kept you going for so long. All anyone ever has to do was keep an open mind and believe that true magic does exist, and when you do, it's almost as though a door opens up, full of delightful possibilities.
As you called out the finished order and thanked the satisfied customer, the shop’s entrance bell chimed, welcoming in the newest one.
You look up and made eye contact with someone who seemed oddly familiar; you tend to remember almost every person that has shown up more than twice at the cafe, so the fact that you can't fully recognize him only shows that the cafe couldn't have been where you’ve known him from... You couldn't quite put your finger on where you've seen him before but you definitely couldn't forget the welcoming aura he radiated. With his black hair pulled into a ponytail, exposing his undercut, and his extra large t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame, he flashed a bright smile, heading up to the counter to order.
Accustomed to ‘hey’s, ‘hi’s, or even an immediate order, the first thing out of his mouth somewhat surprised you. With a tilt of the head and a squint of the eyes, he mumbled out, “.. You look really familiar.” as he tried to place the face.
“You know, I was thinking the same thing...” you trailed off.
After a few seconds of analysis with no conclusion, he seemed to shrug and let out a little chuckle with a passive “it'll probably come to me in the middle of my next class…” before his eyes caught sight of the menus off to the side. Not wanting to make it too obvious that you were tempted to stare, you aimed your gaze elsewhere, only occasionally sneaking a glance at him while he was preoccupied with the menu.
“Ahh… can I get…” he kept his sights on all the options he could, as if it was going to make him any more decisive. Part of you hoped to hear something special, something magical, only to hear, “uhh a… hot latte please?”
While a very solid drink, you subconsciously waited to hear a flavor come after it; staring at him, almost in a daze.
“Did I forget something...?” Your eyes grew wide, mind blank, trying to come up with an excuse for the elongated silence but before you could spout something out, his smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “Oh, duh, I forgot the size!” A breathy laugh came after his revelation and your chest felt lighter once the sound hit your ears. “Could I get a large please?”
“Yeah, absolutely!” you chime as you grab a large paper cup and mark down his order with a sharpie.“Will that be all for you today?” looking back up at him, your customer service smile makes its awaited appearance like clockwork as it did when wrapping up every order. His eyes darted to the full pastry case before he could conclude, causing an actual smile to grace your lips, “Tempted?”
“One way or another, yea,” he said with an undertone of something else being implied, causing your cheeks to heat up. The smile that he threw in there further caused a little flutter of your heart.
“Well luckily for you, we just restocked, so you've got a wide range of goodies to choose from.”
He licked his bottom lip and smoothly responded with, “Well which is your favorite?”
“My favorite? Hmm… Well, I always love a good chocolate croissant whenever I'm drinking regular lattes. The chocolate adds in that kick of sweetness that compliments the lack thereof with the coffee and bonus, it's not too heavy where it will make you feel bloated.``
“You really know how to sell a guy… That sounds amazing. Could I have that, please?” the tone in his voice was playful, fun, possibly flirty- and that was something that you were not going to think about. He’s a customer; he might not come back when he wants his next cup of coffee.
“You want me to warm it up for you?”
“Sure!”
Picking up the prongs, you took the freshest croissant from the batch and placed it in the microwave oven, turning back around.
You voiced his total with a soft smile, “Cash or card?”
“Card. uh .. Can I leave a tip on here?”
Cue the airy sigh that left your chest. A man who knows to leave a tip: you were in love with him already.
“Yea!” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Yea, once you remove your card, the option should pop up on the screen!”
You throw one more smile back at him before turning around to start his drink, not missing the incredibly hard stare your coworker was giving you. You try not to look at them throughout the duration of making his drink.
Handing the handsome man his order, your hands lightly brushed against his and you fought hard to ignore the hefty thump in your chest. You looked back up at him and swore that there was a tint of rose dusted across his cheeks.
You saw the beginning of his outburst before you could hear it.
“Sero!” he said quickly, “Sero Hanta. That’s my name.”
You smiled, sticking out your hand and saying your name, “I’ll be sure to remember it… Sero.”
The rest of the shift went by pretty quick after that. Your coworker couldn't keep their mouth shut about how he was flirting with you and how you just so happened to be flirting back. You two were giggling so much that the rest of the shift just seemed to slip away and before you know it, it was time to clock out.
“Is there anything you want me to do before I head out?” you shout, asking the newly present night shift as you’re halfway out the door.
“No no, we got it,” both your coworkers chime, “just hurry up and get to class!” one of them adds.
Rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye, double checking that everything needed for class was in your bag before fully lugging one of the straps onto your shoulder and heading off.
The walk wasn't that far from the shop, luckily- taking your time and enjoying the world around you was such a cooldown from the hustle and bustle of your work shifts.
The college town was quaint, warm, homely; It felt like everywhere was a short walk away- which it was. There was an ample amount of time for you to stroll to class after one of your shifts.
As you peruse down the street, you took note of how bright it felt this time of day and how soft the glow emanating from the sunlight hitting the trees was; the kiss of the sun heated your skin, allowing you to bask in the warmth of everything: the environment, the vibe, the mood. What a great feeling.
Random thoughts passed in and out of your brain as you got to the entrance of campus- but the continuous train of thought halted at the station when the image of that man who came into the shop, the one with the undercut- Sero Hanta, popped up.
He was really attractive… where had you seen him before?
You mindlessly head towards the lecture hall, with the image of Sero’s face ever present behind your eyelids. The approaching building was a beautiful brick with ivy climbing up the side, a framed golden plaque near the large double doors announced that people were about to enter the Mirai Sasaki building- something you would normally stop to admire but today, you headed straight inside and towards your seat, still mentally preoccupied.
Plopping down, you situate yourself, getting everything out; your textbook, notebook, pens, pencils and even a highlighter. You take a deep breath before slightly shaking your mind to wake up and concentrate on the human sexuality lecture that was about to start. Sero Hanta can wait.
Is what you told yourself and yet, the thought of him wouldn't leave you alone. It went so far as even hearing the professor call out his name.
“So, I just wanted to clarify,” your ears perk up at the voice, “The article you gave us was about how unequal the orgasm ratio- the orgasm gap- is for women… but I feel like there is a new wave of um… feminine orgasm appreciation. Not to get too personal, but I know between my friends and I, we make sure that our partners always come… first.” He trailed off at the last part, probably coming to terms with the awkward phrasing he had ended with.
You had to take a second to get a grip; too many things were happening at once and the one that held most of your attention was the fact that Sero Hanta blatantly admitted to wanting the girl to orgasm first.
What a gentleman.
“Thank you for your… input … mister Sero- but with what you pointed out, it’s actually a perfect segway into the first project of the semester! If you notice in your syllabus, I typed a very vague title for the next class’s date. We're going to talk about it more next class but until then, please read the assigned articles by the next class and have a good rest of your day!”
While the majority of the class was packed and headed to the door, your eyes stayed glued on Sero as you mindlessly put things away. It seemed as though he was taking his time as well. Maybe he needed to talk to the professor?
Seeing that your desk was now cleared, you slowly began descending down the stairs to get to the floor level, eyes glued to each step in front of you, mind somewhere completely different until your head is met with a firm back. With wide eyes, you step back and begin a stream of apologies, head bowed and eyes still on the floor as if you didn’t learn your lesson the first time. A warm chuckle hushes you accompanied with a light, “It’s alright, it’s alright!”
You look back up and are met with the mind-dizzying smile of the man who failed to leave your thoughts alone.
Before your eyes could get any bigger, he murmurs your name. “So this is where I know you from!” He slightly cheered, lopsided grin growing comfortable.
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“Hey! Hey- you guys aren't closing are you?” You hear a panting voice rush through the door- the complete opposite of the energy the cafe currently held. You and your coworker were just winding down from your shift, cleaning and making sure everything was restocked for the next shift, soft music aiding the mood.
Sero was attempting to collect himself when he realized the two pairs of stunned eyes staring at him.
“I just- I wanted to walk with you to class. If that’s cool,” he said to you, flattening his shirt down, “and maybe get a coffee.”
Warmth fills your face as you try to suppress a smirk, “in that order?”
The already flustered college student blushed just a bit harder. Before he could come up with a response, your smirk eased into a soft smile, “okay Sero, what could I get you to drink?”
He steps further inside and orders the same thing he got the first time: a large hot latte. It doesn't take long until the drink is in his hand and you're shooing him off to a table, “I’ll be done in like 10 minutes, is that alright?” you ask, hints of your customer service mannerisms kicking in. He nods and you get back to cleaning, unaware that your movements became a bit swifter.
After clocking out, you’re met with an eager grin and a glint of something unnameable in sero’s eyes.
“The coffee was excellent, by the way. Both times I had it. Do you do something to it? I feel like it’s so much more than just a simple latte.”
You smile at two things, him opening the door for you, and the fact that he was absolutely oblivious to the fact that his drink is one of the few drinks you don’t add any magical properties to.
“I make it with kindness.” You say as you two start your walk, intertwining your hands behind you.
“So mister Hanta… have you been stalking me?”
His eyes grow wide as his cheeks taint red, “N-no! I just thought that maybe you work every shift that’s before our class.”
“Hmmm… So were you going to come by every day to test out your theory if i wasn't there today?”
“Well, luckily you were there, so I guess we’ll never know the answer.”
After you hummed out a response, the walk turned into a comfortable type of silent.
The both of you had several things passing through your mind, but outwardly, one was caught up basking in the fresh spring air while the other was admiring how the wind would slightly shift your hair.
Deciding to break the silence, you turned to face him, “Hey, so, why did you choose to take human sexuality?”
He didn't seem surprised to hear the question but he took a moment; it didn't seem like he was scrambling to find the perfect answer, it was almost like he just couldn't properly find the words.
“Honestly, I love intimacy. I think its really cool that not one person’s views on sex and sexuality and the miniscule details within it, are the same.”
While the words you were hearing made sense, it must have shown that you weren't prepared for such an insightful answer because he let out a hearty laugh that seemed to go on and on, even after he took a deep inhale.
“I’m sorry-” he choked out as he grabbed his chest, “your face just-” he gulped another breath of air, trying to regain composure.
Throughout his fit of laughter, you almost joined in a few times if it weren’t for you biting your cheek in attempts to keep the annoyed facade up.
As soon as it seemed like he got it all out, you try to pull a convincing pout.
“So what's the real answer, then?”
He cocks his head at your question, a smile still playing on his lips, “whaddya mean?”
“You're telling me that what you said wasn't just to catch me off guard?”
“Oh! No no, that's really why I'm taking the class. But i bet you thought i was going to say something asshole-y like ‘i just wanna learn more about sex so i could be better’, hm?” he said the last part in a dopey voice before smirking back at you.
You rolled your eyes in return, “not necessarily, that was just a really… refreshing… answer.”
By the time you got to class, it seemed pretty full, which was a bit odd seeing as though there was still some time before the lecture started. Part of you was hoping that you could snag a seat next to Sero or he could snag a seat next to you- but both of your usual seats were surrounded by others already. There was also always the possibility that maybe he didn't want to sit next to you; you didn't want to get your hopes up so you turned to him, waved goodbye, and headed to your normal seat. Unbenounced to you, he physically slouched in disappointment before heading to his spot.
The lesson went on, and while he wasn't crowding your mind today, you subconsciously kept stealing glances at him throughout the lecture in hopes that one of the times you'll find him glancing back at you. The only time you did catch him staring at you was with wide eyes when the professor announced that you two were going to be partners for the upcoming project.
“So I guess this means it's an appropriate time to ask for your number… I wanted to ask you for it but I didn't want to move too fast…?” he said as you two approached eachother after class, cracking a shy smile while he absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck, a subltle flex of his muscles on display. It was a bit hard to concentrate with a combo move like that attacking you, as if he was going in for the kill.
“I wouldn't have thought it was too fast.” you softly counter, flashing him a tender smile.
It was one thing to feel the heat go to your face, it's another to visibly see it appear on his.
You both traded phones at the same time with the promise to text each other later that night; you put a little coffee emoji by his name while he put the sun next to yours.
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Sitting at the furthest table away from the register, you start to unpack your laptop and make yourself comfortable- you're gonna be here a while. Powering up the device, Hanta pulls at the seat across from you and begins to mimic your movements.
“So you want our first project meeting… at a coffee shop?” you start, trying to keep the smile from coming onto your face. Looking up at him would mean automatic defeat seeing as it's getting harder and harder for you to look at him without your lips twitching upward.
“I thought it would be very symbolic.”
A snort greeted both of your guy’s ears as your eyes went wide and your hands shot up to cover your mouth. “Anyway, so the project.” Blushing around him was starting to become a regular occurrence, as well.
“Right,” he says clapping his hands and rubbing them together.
“So the project is to point out common sexual misconceptions and back it up with statistics and research articles. The fact that we got dibs on the misconception of the orgasm gap all because you had bragged about your personal sex life…” the thought alone shot a wave of warmth down your spine and right to your lower region. A flash of a Sero you hadn’t faced yet appeared in your imagination; him looking up at you, hungry and eager to please. It made your breath hitch.
“Well, yea! I had to voice it. I mean, I feel like it’s common sense! When you have sex by yourself, then you can focus on what makes you feel good and what makes you cum. But when you’re with a partner…” he trailed off and your gaze snapped to him, “you should make sure they cum at least once before doing… whatever you two.. had.. planned on… doing.” Sero finished, his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips.
Oh fuck.
You felt yourself throb.
“Y-yea! Uh I completely a-agree.”
It’s almost as though he could tell that you were flustered so just to top it off, he smirked, “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” before deciding to drop it and move on.
He took a sip of his drink and sighed, “You guys really do make the best coffee. I got the same thing as I did with your place and yet… I'm here longing for your coffee.” you snort once again.
After that, the conversation eased into the project and what exactly needed to be done; the assignment was very simple but sorting out what dates you guys were going to meet up and how exactly you were going to go about gathering the information was all crucial. The project was due in a month and needed to be submitted in powerpoint format- which the both of you were relieved about.
It was really cute seeing Hanta’s eyes all lit up when it came to the part of how you two were going to go about getting all the information needed. He even suggested to conduct a little side research if you guys were ahead of schedule. It was something that made your heart patter. It was almost like you had smelt some of the charmed rose petals from work because every time you looked at him, you couldn't stop the warmth that flooded in your chest.
With that thought, there was the fact that he was more than likely going to be spending large amounts of time at the cafe- would he notice? Should you just come straight out and explain it? Explain that you were considered a witch, someone who was open-minded and was in tune with their intuition and can work with certain herbs, charms, and spells to create wonderful things? It didn't seem that big of a deal to you, it was something you had grown up with; simple spells and practices that just made day to day life more simple. Not every witch has been through the same childhood you had, there’s no special school- not that you were aware of, anyway. Your parents kept their grimoire out in the open and let you frolic about as they eased basic wholesome rituals into your life, and when you got old enough, they let you take in chapter by chapter each spell they casted, each potion they brewed.
When you applied at the cafe, your first interview was full of normal questions worded in a way that almost sounded like it had a double meaning, thankfully you caught it and later was asked for a second interview- conducted by the boss himself. He had asked you to perform a basic potion/drink you grew up with, something that made you feel like you were walking on air. It was simple; a butterfly pea tea with a breath of life, with just a little bit of lemon activated the spell in the brew. When the well made drink hit his tongue, he offered you the job not a second later.
No. You wouldn't tell Sero yet. It never came up; It’d be odd to tell him straight off the bat- there's really no need. If he ever asks… then you’ll tell him.
But he hadn't so far.
Each meeting so far felt incredibly productive. It seemed like getting work done came naturally, with the topic being easy to discuss between the two of you and getting the articles to support your claim was fairly simple- apparently a lot of studies have been done about people’s orgasms.
Since drafting up a skeleton outline the first time meeting, the bits and pieces really started coming together, but the get-togethers sometimes didn't go as planned- however, what was a constant was that no matter what the meet-up consisted of, there would always be a paper cup from your work, filled with a hot latte.
Some of the days, rather than working on the project, the two of you would use the allotted time to sit in your cafe and goof off, or sometimes you would host “tea time” in your apartment and talk about anything and everything- and it was okay because very early on, you both gathered all the adequate articles that involved your topic and sifted through them to get the statistics you needed. Collecting the data was simple enough and putting it together just came easy to you.
Looking up from your laptop, finally done with sorting all the cited sources in each slide, you wave your hand at Sero to get his attention. Hanta was working on phrasing the facts and statistics from each work, so when he tilted his head up, gaze still on the screen until he finished typing the last sentence, he took his headphones out and hummed as he looked at you.
“You get the same thing everytime we’re together… why?”
He glanced at his almost empty cup before fully taking out his headphones, “I get it all the time because it really is the best latte I've ever gotten from a cafe before. I tell you this all the time.”
“You never… wanna try anything new?”
“Is there something in particular you want me to try?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow upwards.
“Well no, not necessarily…”
“Well then how about you give me a recommendation? What’s a drink you think I would love?”
This one stumped you for a minute. Though the thought had crossed your mind quite often, you couldn't quite pinpoint which special drink he’d appreciate the most. Something warm… something reflecting how you feel about him.
“I think that you should get the Time Flies; it's this black tea latte with orange zest and it's really… cozy.”
“Okay, I'll try it the next time I go.”
And he did. The first sip he took felt like smooth gold hitting his tongue. So warm and rich that it had apparently induced the vivid image of the sunset from his grandmother’s porch. He was remembering the orange glow of everything the light touched. The whole day, he was feeling incredibly nostalgic, he even did some of the things he used to do when he was a kid, like watch old black and white movies and make dinner with his mom (even if it was through a phone call).
He told you all of this with one of the most handsome smiles you've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.
˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚16 oz Love Me or Love Me Not with oat milk, hot; our very own pink rose syrup (enchanted candied petals inside and dried petals on top) steamed in the milk meets a double shot of espresso for a deep, sweet, cozy drink˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚
“So,” you start once everything is situated on your living room table, the two floor pillows that play hosts to your guy’s lower halves sit diagonal from each other.
“So.”
“Everything is practically done, I just wanted to… call this meeting so we could just quickly skim over it and see if there was anything in the powerpoint that needed fixing and or adjusting.”
“Very reasonable reason to call this meeting but both of us have been looking at this practically nonstop… so I’m pretty sure it's good.”
“Well it’s due next class and I know we finished it up a few a couple of days ago but… there is absolutely nothing wrong with striving for perfection. And if anything, I’m trying to save your reputation.” he choked at the accusation you were attempting to make, “Oh yea! How are you going to get away with making that bold statement in front of the class, do a whole project on it, and then just… have it not be anything short of jaw dropping?” you didn't even wait for him to speak, “exactly. Your rep is on the line, I'm just the sorry person who got stuck with you.” You smirk, driving your ludacris point home while crossing your arms over your chest.
Scoffing, he leaned over and lightly shoved you, “we got to choose are partners for this project! You chose to be with me!” his cry caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth as you readjusted yourself onto your pillow, “that's neither here nor there.” you try your best snotty act as you stick your nose up in the air.
“Okay okay then, your grace, let us go over the powerpoint,” he jested along and gave you a slight bow.
After a quick runthrough, everything seemed spick and span, so the two of you became more relaxed and sunk into the larger floor pillows once again.
“So… I noticed that you finally got something from your shop.” Sero gestured over to the other paper cup on the table. “I have never seen you with your own coffee before, why today?”
Your cheeks involuntarily began to heat up; the drink he was referring to was none other than the Love Me or Love Me Not. Usually, you never went out of your way to make it, but for the occasion, it was necessary. It was the last time you guys were going to meet up for the project and you just… had to know.
Let it be known, messing with love potions wasn’t your forte, you preferred for everything romantic to be consensual and untampered with- that's why this brew in particular was one that you preferred out of all the ones that are out there. When made correctly, the person drinking it should be able to look at their crush (in person) and if the crush liked them back, then the drinker would get a fierce wave of goosebumps; if the person did not like them romantically, their head world ache for just a few minutes before going back to normal. Simple and effective, plus no one gets roughed up or drugged.
Not a single sip had been taken yet, you were on edge about the situation. This was the first time you had ever made it for yourself, and it was pretty nerve wracking to see if this man who you began harboring feelings for liked you the same.
It’s surely gone cold by now but that wasn’t going to stop you. “Oh! Uh- I was just really craving this drink today.” You say lamely before bringing the cup to your lips and taking a gulp.
The smell of rose hit your nose before you could register the taste. The evenly sweet syrup paired with the strong espresso danced on your tongue before you swallowed it. You softly sighed, it tasted delicious. Another sip slipped past your lips.
A roll of relief cascaded through you when an intense wave of goosebumps rose on your poked at your skin, causing you to cough and sputter. Eyes going wide and squeezing shut as the coughs wracked through your body.
He likes you.
While coming down from your fit, you semi glance at Hanta who had almost instantly appeared by your side, patting and gently rubbing your back.
“Is there liquor in that?” He joked as he handed you your drink so you could have more liquid to ease your throat.
You shook your head after drinking some more and cracking a grin. It might’ve been too big of a smile for someone who just choked but you didn’t care. Sero Hanta… likes you.
Unable to help it, you glance down at his lips only to realize how close he is. Your grin slowly drops, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Can I uh.. can I try your drink?” He says, face red with blush.
As you go to hand him your drink, he leans in and cups your jaw- causing your whole body to still, even your heart stopped to join the languor.
He peaks his tongue out to softly lap up a drop that must have been on your lip, before capturing your lips with his.
It felt like your mind shut down, and all you can feel is how soft his lips are and how sweetly he’s kissing you. Almost hesitantly.
He pulls away in attempts to find your gaze to decipher how you felt about it.
Your breath is ragged as you look back at him- everything and nothing is going on in your head in that moment, unable to speak, until you see the goosebumps that coat his body.
Your heart thumps impossibly faster as you realize that not only does he like you… but he truly believes. He believes in the two of you, he believes in love, and he believes in magic.
Without another second to waste, you tackle him in a hug and find your lips on his in a way that you know you’ll never get enough of.
special extra ! : you and Hanta in the fall- Season of the Witch with almond milk, hot; dirty chai latte with a bewitched cinnamon stick to help keep you warm ;) , even on the coldest of days ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚
The cold nips at your nose just as big hands nip at your waist, causing you to let out a noise between a squeak and a gasp. A flash of soft black hair blurred your vision before cold lips meet yours. “Hanta,” you sigh into the kiss before pulling away and giggling.
You were heading back to your apartment after a day shift at work, the sky already becoming darker because of the autumnal equinox.
“What are you doing? I thought I was gonna meet you at my place.” You say as your fingers intertwined and your step fell into pace with his. He pulled you closer so that you were basically leaning into him as you walked.
“You know those chocolate and pumpkin scones you baked for me? The special ones?” He quietly moaned.
Your eyes go wide as he purposely guided your intertwined hands over his blatant bulge.
“Hanta you weren’t supposed to eat those until later, the spell usually kicks in within the next 30 minutes!” You giggle again.
A few weeks after you two started officially dating, you formally sat him down and explained everything you didn't when talking about your guys’ past- the memories of frolicking through tall grass and talking to your mother’s familiar, to getting your job at the cafe. He told you that it was a lot to take in, but never did he push you away. When he went to the cafe, he was more observant. Somewhere in the months between June and July, he slowly became more and more interested in the rituals you would do and the potions you would make. He wanted to start joining in. Now in October, he loves seeing your crystals around your house and all the different herbs you grow in the sills of your window. When he found out that you could bake magical pastries with certain herbs, he almost immediately asked you to bake him some. At first, it started as something simple like a sage and rosemary savory loaf that helped cleanse your pallet of any negative energy. Then it started becoming more and more intricate, and that's how the two of you ended up here.
“I know but fuck-- I was hungry and they looked so good, and now I’m hard and I need you.” he spoke lowly.
This was going to be fun.
The rest of the way, you were casually asking him things that shouldn't be heard in a public setting, “What is it you want to taste first, Hanta?”
“How badly do you want to fuck me into the mattress? Hm? Have your big cock stretch me out?”
“Wanna fill me up?”
By the time you both got to your apartment, there was no fumbling with the keys to get your door to open, you already had them out; getting through the door took three seconds tops. Next thing you know, your back was against the closest wall, your hands pulling at his tied up hair and scraping your nails against his scalp when the soft locks fell. One of his big hands lifted up a leg of yours and he groaned as he thrust upward against your heat.
“Fuck-” he panted into the kiss before trailing down your neck, still holding up one leg while the other hand finds itself under your shirt, his fingers hot to the touch.
Releasing your leg and dropping to his knees, he looked up at you as he fumbled with the button of your pants. You lace your fingers in his hair, feeling him yank the material down your legs, tossing the one leg over your less dominant leg over your shoulder, and when a warm muscle hits your sopping clothed core, you pull his hair harder to apply more pressure.
“Look at me when I have you in my mouth, I wanna see how much you enjoy this.”
You felt yourself clench, and apparently so did he, because a smirk grew on his lips. “Oh, you like when I say things like that?”
“H-hanta, please.. '' your voice wavered before you sucked in a sharp gasp. He had a finger, then two inside of you in no time, the other hand keeping the underwear out of the way so his lips could wrap around your clit.
He was pumping in and out of you faster and faster, occasionally switching the pace to unbearably slow and when you would whine, he’d tilt his head up, mid lick, to throw you a teasing glance before picking up the pace. He bagan curling his fingers, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling and with the pressure building up, it had you panting out a breathy repetitive stream of his name.
“‘M gonna cum Hanta, hh-” you moaned out before clenching your eyes shut, your body involuntarily shaking above him. And right below you, he was ready to lick up everything you had to offer.
Holding you steady as he came up to kiss you, your juices still on his lips, “you ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked when he pulled away. The short sobering moment hit as soon as he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom, but after he tossed you onto the bed, the look he gave you as he was unbuttoning his pants drew your mind hazy again.
“Can't wait to pump you full of my cum, to have you a drooling mess because of my cock.” he huskily whispered, giving you so many delicious previews of how the night will go. “You want that, pretty? Use your words.” he said as he crawled over to you and caged you in. The scent of cedar wood and citrus clouded your senses.
“Yes please Hanta!” you whine, “wanna feel stuffed b’cause of your cum. Please fill me up--” you whimper out, cutting yourself off when you felt his leaky tip at your wet entrance.
Just like each time you two have been intimate, he guides himself slowly until he's in to the hilt of his pelvis, “shit, squeezing me so hard- c-an i move?” he moans out.
Unable to form coherent sentences, you frantically nod and squeak out, “yes!”
With your permission granted, he eases in a thrust before he starts snapping his hips into you.
“Fuck, look at you, milking my cock so good-” he moaned, as he leaned in and kissed you. Each sharp thrust jolted you upwards, proving just how powerful his thrusts were. You threw your arms around his neck for the slight stability.
You began to let out little moans into the kiss that spurr him further; everything was beginning to get to him. How tight you felt around him, the feel of your tongue against his, the sloppy wet noises of your cunt.
“I’m gonna cum-- i'm gonna cum!” he choked out.
You clawed at his back while whimpering pleas for him to fill you up, “fill me up with your cum, your cock fills me so good, please Hanta, more- more!”
You were clenching around him hard, and to bring you right to his level, he found your puffy clit and began a quick circular motion that made your jaw go slack, causing more frequent clenches.
His mind blurred as he pushed himself the deepest he could, moaning out your name and a gruff curse before emptying himself into you.
You felt him twitch inside of you right before hot seed coated your already warm walls, and that’s what pushed you into a convulsion of ecstasy.
He lazily humped his hips into you as you rode out your high before pulling out and rolling next to you.
Calling out your name to bring your attention to him, he pulls you into his chest where you could feel his racing heart, “what if… I started singing that song from hocus pocus? You know the one..”
What a goof, you thought to yourself, playfully smacking his chest as you roll your eyes, looking up at him.
“I put a spell on you… and now you're mine…” you begin to whisper, earning a hearty laugh from you boyfriend.
Maybe it was mutual, but quite possibly he had put a spell on you. And you were more than okay with it.
#she dreams !#butter’s house🏡#🪄 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍��𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.#sero hanta#sero mha#sero smut#sero hanta smut#mha fanfiction#mha#bnha smut#bnha#bnha fanfiction#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#my hero academia smut#sero bnha#sero hanta mha#mha smut#smut
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𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥
Hi everyone! As promised, here’s one of the two most voted fic continuations. There will be more chapters to this story though I'm not sure how many yet. Thank you for reading!
warnings: sugar daddy jae, mentions of injuries and hospitals, language.
taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv
Sugar rush m.list.
The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?
The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?
The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?
The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?
The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?
Where did everything go wrong?
Your string of thoughts was cut off by a call from your aunt.
Your string of thoughts was cut off by a call from your aunt.
“Hello?” Your voice was raspy from not using it. There was no one to talk to in the quiet, hospital room but the nurses, who weren't especially keen on chatting.
“How’s your dad, sweetie?”
“They let him out of ICU, but he doesn't look good to me.” Your fingers traced the cuts in his chiseled cheeks that would soon turn into scars, ruining his perfect skin. Your eyes then diverted to his head, thoroughly covered in bandages to protect his damaged skull.
“Honey, I've got bad news...”
“They rejected the case, didn't they?”
“Not precisely.” She deeply inhaled before continuing. “It’s a tough case, almost impossible to win, nonetheless, they're willing to take it. But their fee is a little...”
“Expensive.”
“Yes.”
As expected from the best firm in town, they wouldn't take less than $8,000. Your bank account didn't have enough money to even cover half of it, and with your job at the convenience store, you'd only earn so much to cover your expenses.
“We can take the lawyer that the government provides us with, it would be free.”
“But then I'm sure we’d lose.” You groaned in frustration, using your free hand to rub your forehead. “Don’t worry, I'll find a way to get the money.”
“Why don't we just accept the compensation they're offering? It could pay for the hospital bills and you'd still have some left to pay for your tuition.”
“That would be like putting a price on my father's life. I don't want their money, I want them to make themselves responsible for what they've caused.” The sound of wheels approached the door of your father's room, signaling the nurse was outside with his meds. “It’s okay, Auntie, I'll take care of everything. You can go back home, I know my uncle isn't doing so well.”
“Are you sure, darling?” It was undeniable that she wanted to head back to her little ranch fat away from the hectic city life to take care of her sick husband, but still, her brother was laying down on a hospital bed, fighting for his life.
“Yes, I'm an adult, I'll find a way.”
“Take care of yourself, and don't hesitate to call me if you're having any difficulties. I'll be there in the blink of an eye.” She said before sending a kiss into the speaker, proceeding to hang up.
You sighed. It was never usual for you to ask for help, as you were an extremely prideful and independent person, and you doubted this time would be different.
“Don’t worry, dad. Everything will be alright.”
Three failed job interviews and one more to go. Your feet were killing you, the high heels covering them already worn out from walking to avoid taking the bus. Every penny counted, and as long as your legs worked, you weren't spending any more money than what was necessary.
You sat down in the waiting room of the company, massaging your neck to relieve some tension. College was becoming a burden. Maybe you'd take a semester off to focus on working, that is if someone wanted to hire an inexperienced student.
“Y/n, Y/l/n?”
“Here.” You darted up, gathering your belongings to enter the room on which your life almost literally depended.
You gave all the right answers, earning a polite ‘we’ll contact you’ in return. But you could see that they weren't convinced with your lack of experience, no company in their right mind would be.
As soon as you arrived at your apartment, you slid out of the uncomfortable pencil skirt, tucking yourself under the covers with your phone screen almost hitting your nose.
To take your mind off things, you decided to watch some videos. Halfway in, an ad popped up, interrupting the interior deco video you were watching.
A picture of a girl about your age hugging an older man was right in the middle of your screen. Written with fancy letters, the words ‘make your life simpler’ could be read, followed by what you guessed was the title of the app. Sugar rush.
Out of pure curiosity, your finger tapped at the small icon that led to the app store, absentmindedly clicking the download button. A few seconds later, an icon with the letters ‘SR’ was added to your home screen.
“Log in?” You murmured out loud, squinting your eyes to adjust your eyes to the bright, white homepage.
Just as you were about to click out, the phrase from the ad reappeared, stopping your finger from moving any further.
You could always delete your account if something went wrong, right? Nonetheless, you decided to use a false name, and that's how Melanie Kim’s profile was created. You left the circle of your profile picture empty for now, only filling the spaces that asked about your likes, dislikes, age, and all that stuff that people care about so much.
You knew what the app was for, but that didn't stop you from being surprised when a list of men and women of different ages greeted you. Right then, a small rectangle obstructed your sight, two buttons offering opposite things.
‘Pick the role you'd like to develop.’
Sugar daddy/mommy / Sugar baby.
Clearly, you didn’t have nor the money or the years to be the first, so you clicked the opposite button without giving it more thought.
‘Welcome. You've been registered as a sugar baby at Sugar rush. Meet thousands of men and women willing to finance you for free!’
You hummed.
‘As we're always looking to make our users’ experience better, we've developed Sugar Rush premium, a membership to meet the richest and hottest people in your surroundings. Get the premium version for only $5.95 a month. Click here to get Sugar Rush premium.’
Your finger pad was dangerously close to the blue button, almost grazing the screen of the phone. It was then when you were pulled out of your trance, blinking as if just then you'd realized what you were doing.
“I must be crazy.” You turned off your phone, not bothering to turn on an alarm for the next day. You had no interviews left. You had nowhere to go.
Waking up was getting harder with every passing day. Not being able to call your dad to go out for breakfast or even sending a simple good morning message hurt you deeply. You missed him. But seeing him laying down on a hospital bed, unable to do anything by himself, was even worse.
Ding
A notification filled the silence in your room.
‘Come back, you haven't finished setting up your account yet!’
You scoffed at your past self. What were you even thinking when you downloaded the app?
You simply turned off the phone before standing up to take a relaxing shower. As the water soaked up your tense body, your mind started wandering off back to the app. A million what-ifs filled your head, nonetheless, there was one that remained the most persistent.
‘What if this can pay for a lawyer?’
Your part-time job surely couldn't, and you had no one to assist you financially speaking. The whole idea of paying that ridiculous membership seemed more tempting as your fingers started getting wrinkly under the showerhead.
You decided to take some time to consider it, after all, you still had a week to give the lawyers an answer.
Hot soup seemed like a good option to comfort you, and thankfully, there was a store right in front of your place that claimed to sell the best soups in town.
It wasn't bad, but not nearly as good as the one your dad cooked when you were a kid. You sighed, wondering if you'd ever be able to eat it again. Just then, a woman about your age came into the shop, carrying a couple of bags where names of popular brands could be read. A pinch of jealousy made your heart stir as you glanced at yourself through the reflection in the glass at your side. You looked devastated, your skin pale and your cheekbones slightly sunken, a sign of the lack of rest and food you'd been getting.
Out of pure impulse, you pulled out your phone, clicked on the app you'd recently downloaded, and finally accepted the charges for a premium membership.
‘Welcome, new member of our wide community, click ok to get started!’
Well, no turning back now.
Right after pressing the blue letters with your thumb, you were presented with a list of potential prospects, some of them including pictures, some of them only including name and a brief description of what they were looking for. The minority included their ages, but most left the space blank.
A bunch of old men looking for a youthful, pretty woman to be by their sides, some of them even went as far as writing the weight and height their ideal partner should have. Of course, there were also some women in the look for young meat, but the number of men overpassed them.
About to exit the app in defeat, a profile caught your eye. His pale pink hair was parted, allowing his thick eyebrows to stand out. His high cheekbones made him look like a statue, the details in his face almost too perfect for a mere human. He must be the incarnation of a Greek God, you thought.
‘Jung Yoonoh. 41 years old. Owner of N & C.’
“Should I...?” You asked yourself in a voice lower than a whisper.
He has probably gotten hundreds of messages, so what would be the point of sending one yourself? Your eyes scanned the picture over and over again as the remains of your soup started getting cold.
He was probably the only acceptable man in the whole app, so why not give it a try?
You already spent five whole dollars on it, might as well make it worth the money.
‘Hi.’ Sent.
“Holy crap.” You breathed out, regretting every single action that led you to take such a stupid decision. “Ah!” You squeaked as three small dots appeared beside his profile picture, signaling he was writing a reply.
What if he rejected you right from the beginning? God, that would be so humiliating. His message stopped your train of thought.
‘Hi!’
Followed by:
‘How are you?’
Sweating like a pig, thank you for asking.
‘Fine. You?’ Read.
‘Thrilled. No one had messaged me since I created my account two weeks ago.’
‘How is that possible?’ You imprinted your thoughts on a message.
‘It’s hard to trust people nowadays. I guess people might think either my picture is photoshopped or I'm lying about my job.’
‘Their loss, ig.’ Read.
He was taking some time to answer. Had you said something inappropriate?
‘Hahaha.’
The conversation stopped there, as you didn't know how exactly to answer his message. But a few minutes later, another text from him popped up at your chat.
‘If you're okay with it, we can start talking about a possible arrangement.’
Already? You've known each other for like five minutes. But then again, arrangements were the whole purpose of the app.
‘Sure.’
‘May I ask your reasons for joining the app?’
‘I need urgent money, but my job doesn't pay nearly enough.’ You omitted the part of your agonizing father, he didn't need to know that. ‘And you?’
‘I need someone to be my partner at public spaces.’
‘Alright.’ Read.
‘Do you happen to have some free time tomorrow at lunchtime? I think it’d be better to meet first before making any decisions.’
‘Yeah, I'm free.’
‘Great, I’ll send you the address.’
You thought a day would be enough to prepare yourself, but time passed by quicker than usual, and soon enough, it was time to get ready for your meeting with Mr. Jung. He was only a few years younger than your father, and calling him by his first name wouldn't feel right.
Unsure if you should wear something formal, you threw on a beige (the color you'd agreed on wearing so it’d be easier to recognize each other) summer dress, pairing it with the gold hoops you'd inherited from your grandma to make it look more elegant.
The hardest part of your routine was makeup. Your sunken cheeks couldn't be covered, and only after a few layers of blush and highlighter, you could bring your skin back to life.
On your way to the cafe, you went through the things you'd say when you met him. It was your chance to get your father what he needed.
You stood at the entrance with wide, scared eyes, shyly scanning through the place to look for your date.
“Melanie?” A hand on your shoulder had you jolting. “I’m Jung Yoonoh, nice to meet you.”
What you saw after turning around was breathtaking. A handsome, healthy man, with the most beautiful pair of dimples.
“Nice to meet you.” You managed to blurt out without stuttering, extending your hand to make the greeting more formal. The fake name didn’t seem necessary anymore. “It’s actually y/n, I didn't want to use my real name.”
“I understand. Let’s take a seat.” He offered with a kind smile.
He left you seating at the terrace while he made your order, a latte, and a chocolate cookie. Your fingers played with your hoops anxiously, trying to regulate your breath.
“They’ll bring our food in just a sec.” He offered a warm smile. “Your dress is pretty.” Yoonoh said out of nowhere.
“Thank you.”
“I see you're not a chatty person.” You were about to object, but he started speaking again. “It's not a bad thing! I usually talk a lot, so it’s a nice way to balance things.”
You nodded, seemingly uncomfortable with the man sitting in front of you.
“So, uhm, this is my first time doing this, so I'm not really sure where to begin.” He pulled out a folded paper from the front pocket of his dressing pants. “It’s a bit creased, but I can always print another one. I brought it so you could take a look and let me know if you wanted to change anything. I don't mean to pressure you, but you said it was urgent, so...”
You read the paper under his attentive gaze, making sure not to miss a single word. Everything seemed correct, except...
“Six months?”
“Is that too much?” A small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows, a sign of deep concentration. “Okay, so let's do this instead.”
He took back the contract, pulling out a pen from the pocket in his dressing shirt to correct the original stipulations.
“Four months, and if by the end of them you don't absolutely hate me, we can extend the time. Deal?”
“Just one more thing.”
You cleared your throat, conscious that your following words might jeopardize the whole arrangement.
“Are you sure you want to make it official already?” You had to stop for a moment as the waiter left your orders on top of the wooden table. “I mean, it's not that I have a problem with it, but it's your money and maybe you'd like to give it a better thought.” You resumed.
“The fact that you're concerned about me proves I'm making the right choice. Now, tell me, how much would you like to receive as a weekly allowance?”
Would it be too reckless to ask him straight up for the $8,000?
“H-how much are you willing to give me?” You felt dirty, accepting a stranger’s money like that.
“Whatever you need.” His hand suddenly reached forward to yours, causing every ounce of blood in your body to rush to your face. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, I'm here to help you.” His voice tone dropped, acquiring an almost soothing feeling.
“I need eight thousand by Thursday, next week.” His eyes were wide open, mouth having difficulties remaining closed. “I-I know it's too much, but...”
“I can find a way to give you that money, but I'd like to know the reason why you need it. Just to make sure it's nothing illegal.”
You puffed your cheeks, trying to find an excuse good enough to justify the amount of money you were asking for.
“It isn’t illegal, is it?”
“No!” You retrieved your hand from below his, now embarrassed at the possibility of him having a bad image of you. “I need it for my father.”
“I suppose you don't want to talk about it.” He started at his palm, lips pressed in a thin life. “But when it comes to arrangements like this, we need to trust each other, alright?” You barely knew each other, yet, he demanded to know a very personal detail of your life. Not that he didn't have a good reason for wanting to know, it wasn't a particularly small amount of money.
“He had an accident at work...” You started, fearful of looking up to find pity in his eyes. “I need a lawyer to make his company legally responsible. They intend to throw it under the rug and pay a somewhat decent amount of money to make it go away. The firm I intend to hire is supposedly the best in town, probably my only chance of getting justice.”
“And why don't you just accept it? There's no guarantee that your lawyer will win the case.” You fisted the delicate fabric of your dress, eyes watering as you tried to hold back your anger.
“My father’s life is priceless, and if you think what I'm doing is a waste of money, then fine, we can both look for someone else to help us.” It sounded more aggressive than you'd first intended, but you meant every word that came out of your mouth.
Before you could even stand up, his slim fingers had already wrapped themselves around your wrist.
“I never said that.” He whispered with an almost sad tone. “Come on, sit down.”
He tugged at your arm the slightest, showing off his charming dimples once again.
“I’ll give you the money on one condition...” He raised one of his thick eyebrows. “I’ll go with you to see the lawyer.”
“Why...?”
“That’s my condition, take it or leave it.”
“Okay.”
The days before your meeting with your potential lawyer were nerve-wracking. You'd seen Yoonoh another time to sign the contract, which finally made your arrangement official.
You’d visit your father every day, always hoping he'd be sitting with his arms wide open, ready to hug you. But nothing had changed ever since he first came into that room.
“I’m here to see Mr. Kim.” The secretary's gaze lingered on Jaehyun a few seconds before he finally snapped out of it. “Y/n Y/l/n.”
“Just a second.” He opened his agenda and quickly found your appointment. With a warm smile, he guided you through the corridors of the building, all the way to the elevator. “It’s the only office on the last floor, I'll be at my desk if you need anything.”
Once again, he shot Jae an uneasy glance before the metal doors slid close.
“What was all that?” To be honest, you couldn't care less. But a small chat might calm your nerves and prevent you from throwing up all over the place.
“What do you mean?” He grinned, pressing the button to the top floor.
“You know what I mean.” You scoffed, annoyed at his evasive behavior.
“We just happen to know each other, nothing special.” Before the conversation could continue, a loud ding resonated through the metal cubicle. “Let’s go.” His hand found its place at the small of your back, pushing you towards the glass door. Through it, you could see a black-haired man reading a pile of documents, occasionally raising a photo to examine it with his gold-rimmed glasses supported at the bridge of his elegant nose.
Jaehyun extended his arm over your shoulder to knock on the door, earning an almost annoyed ‘come in’ from the man inside.
“Let’s go.” Once again invading your personal space, he reached for the doorknob with you trapped between his arms.
As soon as the door opened, the man raised his eyes from the documents he was checking.
“What are you doing here, Jung?”
“I knew something was off...” You murmured, loud enough for the man at your side to chuckle.
“I brought you a client, you should be happy.”
“Miss y/n, I suppose. Have a seat.” His demeanor completely changed while speaking directly to you. “I spoke with your aunt last week, she explained the details of the lawsuit, but I must say, it isn't an easy case.”
“I know that, but I've been told you're the best firm in town, I know I'll have more possibilities of winning if you're my lawyer.”
“Best firm in town my ass.”
“Be silent or I’ll kick you out of the building.”
That was enough for Yoonoh to zip his mouth. For a while at least.
“I suppose she also told you about our fee.” He pushed his glasses up using his thumb. “We’d also keep 25% of the lawsuit money assuming we win the case, is that okay with you?”
“Yes-”
“Okay, stop.”
“I’ll call security, Jung.”
“Look at me, y/n.” He squeezed your arms. “This clown is trying to scam you...” He pointed his finger at the lawyer without breaking eye contact. “You’d be spending loads of money for someone who isn't even confident in his abilities. It isn't worth it.”
“And I suppose you'd do better than me, then.” The black-haired man scoffed. “If that's the case, then you can both leave. I'm quite busy at the moment.” With a turn of his wrist, he signaled you to leave the room.
You were fuming, stomping out of the building with Jaehyun right behind you.
“I found a great restaurant nearby, we can go there and-”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Calm down-”
“Don’t tell me to calm down when you just fucked up my only chance to give those bastards what they deserve.” The sun was starting to set, yellow light casting shadows over his tender cheeks.
“Can you listen to me for a second?”
“Are you laughing right now?” You bit your lip, hard, trying to hold back the tsunami of tears threatening to come out of your eyes. “Asshole.”
“Ouch.” He furrowed his eyebrows mockingly. Oh, how close you were to punch that pretty face of his. “Can I explain now?”
You remained silent, staring at the ground with the smallest frown between your eyebrows.
“How do you think I know Kim Doyoung?” Before even giving you a chance to answer, he continued. “That son of a bitch has been stealing my clients for ages.”
“Your clients...?”
“He isn't even that good of a lawyer compared to me.” He scoffed with fake arrogance.
“You're a lawyer?!” You slammed your palms into your face, whining at the newly acquired information. “Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?”
“Just wanted to swing by and annoy him a bit. Don't worry, I wasn't gonna let you accept his deal.” He winked playfully.
The sun was now hidden, the sky darkening as the moon rose to take its shift.
“Though I gotta say, I'm kinda offended I wasn't even an option. I'm a pretty great lawyer, you know?”
“Sorry.”
“I’ll forgive you if you join me for dinner. What do you say?”
As you walked into the darkness of the streets, his shoulder occasionally bumping yours, you wondered if meeting him was a casualty. Maybe the world was finally smiling at you.
#nct smut#nct angst#nct fluff#nct au#nct imagines#nct ot21#nct x reader#nct#nct 127#nct scenarios#nct jaehyun
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I’m On Fire [Chapter 2]
With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.
Chapter Summary: Y/N and Spencer start to put a plan together.
A/N: I’ve got a head cold at the mo’ but I had to get a covid test just in case so I’m not allowed leave my room till I get the results! So enjoy a bonus chapter while I wallow on my own for like 36 hours :( On a positive note, thank you guys all so much for the response to chapter 1 I really didn’t see that coming! I’ve tagged everyone who asked, let me know if you wanna be added
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby
Warnings: Cursing, some NSFW language/themes
Word Count: 6.1k
Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
"Are you coming up or what?"
The question was still ringing in my ears. It caught me completely off guard. 'Up' as in up to Spencer's apartment? Where he lived? I knew he lived somewhere in theory, just like I knew deep down that he wasn't made in a test tube.
Without noticing I've undone my seatbelt and I'm hopping out of the car, following him around to the front door. I guess I am coming up.
Spencer's apartment is more cosy than I thought it was going to be. It's warm and lived in. It's not big, but I think that might be what makes it homely. Something about the way he behaves had me thinking it would be fully decked out in stainless steel or glass or something. But it wasn't pristine, it was messy.
There were books bursting from the shelves that lined the walls of the apartment, along with books laid open over nearly every surface in the place, it looked like he was in the middle of reading all of them, and honestly, I didn't doubt it. Maybe I'd misjudged him. He even had some photos of what looked like his family, and maybe friends, even some of the BAU, lining his walls or propped up on his mantle. He had little trinkets and souvenirs on his shelves too, evidence that he'd been around the country for reasons other than a case. I would never admit it to him but there was a real charm to the place.
Once we got inside he took off his bag and suit jacket, tossing them on the desk just inside of the door. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, and he seemed to pick up on my awkward energy.
"You can make yourself at home" he said, his confident streak remaining. I had no idea what to do with that. What would even make me comfortable in Spencer Reid's apartment? I took a seat on his sofa and just sat with my hands resting in my lap. Really not even sure where I should look without feeling like I was invading his privacy. Even though I wanted to. I think it was morbid curiosity, looking for clues on who this man might actually be outside of the BAU. What I really wanted to do was stand up and walk around, soaking in every bit if this place as if it would help me decipher our messy relationship.
He returned to the living room a few moments later, two mismatched mugs in his hands. He places one in front of me on the coffee table. I pick it up and take a sip. It's lemon and ginger, how did he know what kind of tea I liked? I held the mug in my hands inhaling the steam in an effort to relax. When I look up he's watching me, arms folded across his chest.
"So, how does this thing work. What's the game plan?" I honestly have no real idea. This evening really got away from me, I was still expecting to snap out of it and wake up in my bed at any moment.
"Well I can't say I've ever been in a Sandra Bullock movie before either so this is uncharted territory for me too" I say with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. Even a little. I can see him crack a small smile but hides it almost instantly, his face hardening again.
"My sister, Margot, she's getting married in like 4 months." I can feel myself tense and I shake out my shoulders, I have to remind myself that he's agreed to this already, "Fuck it, I'm just going to be honest with you. My Mom's mostly freaked out that I'm too attached to this job and that I'll just never find someone again." I shouldn't have said again, fuck. I hope he didn't pick up on that. Who am I kidding. "Even though, I'm not sure I care if I do or don't?" he doesn't say anything, like he's waiting for me to continue. I know I've shared a little too much already but I keep going.
"Margot's 2 years younger than me, I introduced her to her fiancé Philip, we met in college, he's a sweetheart. But since they've gotten engaged Mom's gotten exponentially weirder. I think she's convinced I'm fully going to die alone, as if that would be the worst thing that could ever happen? Anyway, she's been trying to auction me off to all these guys, using this wedding as an excuse. I'm not sure how much of that phone call you actually heard earlier but Mom was trying to sell me on this guy, David, and I just… snapped." I look up at Spencer and he unfolds his arms, leaning in ever so slightly coaxing the story out of me.
"David, he uh, he worked for my father for a while back in high school, filing documents and stuff, busy work mostly. He used to make out with me when he was at our house after school, but then he'd ignore me in the halls the next morning. I know it's because I was a pariah back then or something but I didn't want to think about it today and I just got worked up. I shouldn't have let on that you were my date, I was just going to ask if I could bring Garcia or something, and I'm sorry." I cover my face in my hands, "I'm insane, you can back out if you want to."
I can hear him move from his spot on the opposite side of the sofa, he takes my wrists and gently pulls my hands from my face. He looks into my eyes, "I'm in this now Y/N, what do you need me to do?" he asks, and there's a genuine earnest in his voice that I think I've only ever heard a handful of times. And it's never been directed at me.
"Okay, well we've got a few months before you ha–, wait, fuck!" I throw my head back, there's already a complication, "shit" I curse under my breath. His eyebrows knit together, sitting upright.
"What's the matter?" he asks.
"I forgot about my Mom's 50th, it's next month. They've got this whole huge party planned back home in upstate New York. I've gotta go and they'll probably want to meet you, or they're gonna have a load of questions for me at least. I can try and get you out of it I'm sure"
He gets that cocky look again, he shakes his head "I don't know, I've always liked a bit of competition" he reclines back into his corner of the sofa, taking a satisfied sip from his own mug before speaking again. "You know, if I've got to learn enough to pass as your boyfriend in a month, surely that means you've got to learn enough to pass as my girlfriend within the month, no?"
Oh god. What have I done, why didn't I think this far ahead. "I mean, yeah I guess you're right." I had to remember he was doing me a favor. I had to get over myself. "Okay, if you're sure you're up for that?" I ask, and he nods, and I think he looks excited, or maybe he just finds the whole situation funny.
"If anyone's up for the competition it's you" he says, and I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a dig but I nod in agreement.
He takes another sip of his tea, collected and relaxed. I can't help but notice how at ease he is when he's in his own surroundings. I'm so used to seeing him sitting at a desk surrounded by paperwork, or combing through file after file in the make-shift office in a small-town police station, usually flustered or anxious, or antagonizing me whenever he wasn’t. This was a different Spencer. Completely in control, at ease.
"Alright, shall we get started then, we can't really afford to waste any time can we?" he was actually sort of right, so I nodded. It was only now occurring to me that I'd have to share parts of my personal life with him if I wanted this plan to work. We already knew the basics about each other, I'd read his file when I started at the BAU, I'd read everyones. And I feel like it was safe to presume he'd done the same.
His eyes bore directly into mine as he leaned forward, I think he was enjoying how uncomfortable I must've looked.
"How about I ask you some rapid-fire questions and you have to answer 'em?" he asks, and it's as good of a plan as any, and I can't think of any other suggestions, so I nod.
"Okay, shoot." I say, unsure and nervous, so I brace myself. I'm just grateful that he's making my life easier rather than harder for what feels like the first time since I met him.
I really should've known better.
He leans in, "So Y/N, first question, when did you lose your virginity?"
I almost choke on the mouthful of tea I just took, that can't be what he just asked, and he looks like he's savoring my shocked expression.
"I uh, I don't think you need to know that?" is all I can get out.
"Really? You think that's something your boyfriend wouldn't know about you?" he's right, but I didn't want to admit it outright.
"I feel like I sort of already hinted. It was that same guy David, I was 18, he was 19. We had sex on the couch while my parents went out one evening. I kept my bra on the whole time, he came, I didn't. It was all very standard stuff." I wasn't sure what compelled me to add that last part. I think I was giving in to the open honestly thing. "So what about you Doc?" I challenged.
He didn't seem embarrassed, or even shy. "I must've bloomed little later than you" he admits with a soft chuckle, "Vivian Stewart, I was 21, she was too. It was the last semester of my last PhD and I figured I must be missing out on something. And I sure was" he smirks to himself. "I came, she did too, 3 times. I did a lot of research ahead of time" he mirrored my story and I rolled my eyes. It was hard not to feel a little impressed but I tried with everything I had to stifle it so he couldn't tell. I wish it didn't make me feel something but it did. I gulp down the mouthful of tea that's been sitting in my throat.
I have to shake myself back to reality. I can't give him the satisfaction of throwing me. "My turn." I command, "When was your last relationship Dr. Reid?" I ask, "I mean like, serious one, not like hook-up" I clarify before he can ask. He thinks on it for a moment.
"I'm not sure what you classify as fully serious, but I guess it was this girl, Rebecca, we dated for a while when I first joined the BAU but it didn't work out. What about you?" he flips it back.
"So that was what, like 6-ish years ago?" I ask, he just nods.
"Mine was like 3 years ago now I think. I met this guy Nathan on my first week of college, we dated for like 4 years. He moved here for me when I got accepted by the BAU." I had to stop myself from delving into the detail. It was a long time ago now but it still hurt. "Long story short, the hours were demanding and they got in the way more than I would've liked. We ended up splitting a couple months after I got the job." I tried to play it off like it wasn't one of the more devastating things to happen in my life. But something told me he’d registered that, so he didn't push.
His energy picks up and he looks at me with a grin, but there's something a little sinister behind it. "I've got a more fun question for you." he leans in closer to me, "Y/N, when was the last time you got laid?" I just looked at him in shock.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, I can go first if you really need me to?" his voice didn't waver,
"Fuck you Reid, I know when it was!" I snapped back at him. I did have to think back a little farther than I'd like to pull up the memory.
"Met this guy in a bar when I was out with Pen one night, we went back to his place and hooked up." I say as deadpan as I can make it.
"Well that's not very exciting is it?" he jokes, "Did you at least cum that time?" I know he's just trying to rile me up, but I answer anyway.
"As a matter of fact I did" I earn back a little of my confidence.
"I'm so happy for you, but you did manage to avoid my initial question" fuck "when was this exciting night of yours Y/N?" he probes, like I really, really wished he wouldn't. I could lie, but I'm sure he'd be able to tell. I cringe before I can say it.
"About 8 months ago" I mutter, just low enough for him to hear.
"Sorry, did you just say 8 months ago?" He nearly shouts in disbelief, he seems to find it funny.
"Hey fuck you Spencer!" I go on the defensive, "When was the last time you even got laid?"
"Like two and half weeks ago" he says, confident, and still laughing, "Wait wait, when was the last time you got yourself off? I know you're not waiting 8 months!" he giggles and I think I could kill him. I know I kept giving him outs but was it too late for me to just get up and leave?
"I'm not doing this with you if you're just gonna make fun of me Reid, I get enough of that at work" I get out, my voice is serious but I'm trying to hide how awkward all of this is making me feel, and I don't know that I'm doing a very good job.
I can tell that's gotten to him, he relaxes and eases up on the giggling. "Look okay wait Y/N. I'll stop, I'm not actually trying to make fun of you. I was being serious, I think stuff like this is important if we're gonna have to be comfortable around each other enough to seem like a real couple. Plus, it'll just help break the ice?" he shrugs. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."
I soften, because I agree, even thought I hate that he's right. "Fine" I collect my thoughts, "2 nights ago I'm pretty sure." I regret it almost instantly, but breaking the ice is supposed to feel awkward.
"Same here actually," he chuckles, "what'd you do?" I'm so startled by the question I almost forget how to answer.
"I, uh, my, my vibrator? I just felt like uh, I watched some..." I still can't force out a whole sentence. It's not like I was always awkward about sex or anything, I could talk to Garcia, or honestly probably any of the other team members about it. But with Spencer it didn't feel as comfortable. He still sat calmly, smiling just a little.
"Same here, 2 nights back, but with my hands I guess. I wonder if we were doing it at the same time?" he mutters the last part gently and my head goes a bit fuzzy. My eyes drift away from his face and settle on his hands, the mug he's holding looks so tiny with his fingers wrapped around it, I wondered how they'd look wrapped around my-
"Okay I think that's enough for one night, don't you think?" I jump up off the sofa and turn, mostly so that he doesn't catch the blush thats creeping from my neck up to my cheeks. And because I don't know what I'll say, or regret saying, if this conversations continues on its current trajectory.
"Sure," he says, standing up next to me, and I want to move further away instantly, "you're probably right, and it's getting a little late now anyway" he glances at his watch. Ushering me back towards his front door and opening it up. Before I can walk out he lightly touches my shoulder to turn me back to face him, and I wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from every part of me.
"So are you free next Friday after work?" he asks, and I'm so flustered I almost forget why, I just nod. "Perfect, how about we come here again and we can dive into preparing? You could also make a start on getting these onto a hard drive?" he gestures to the antique looking hardbacks adorning the shelves.
'Sounds great!" I perk up, feigning enthusiasm, "See you then!"
"Well, see you Monday morning actually Y/N" he smirks as I walk out the door. Fuck, he was right.
I really hadn't thought this through.
——
The weekend was a bit of a blur. I decided to try and put some useful information into a document for Spencer. It felt strange to try and condense my life into as few pages as possible. I knew Reid had an eidetic memory, and nothing would necessarily overwhelm him. But I also knew that he was someone that the team relied on to fill in a lot of the gaps in the rest of the our knowledge. So I felt bad about dumping a load of information on him, especially considering it was a favor he was doing for me.
I'd complied the majority of my life into a 15 page document and printed it out. Hopefully that would address most of what my family could guerrilla attack him with. There was also something unsettling about the imbalance. I was going to give him so many of the intricate details of my life in a little file, whereas all I really knew about Spencer was what I'd taken it upon myself to learn about him throughout the past few years.
I'd read all of his work while I was in college, given how he was the gold standard of getting into the BAU at a young age, I wanted to know who this guy was. I think I'd pictured something different. And I couldn't deny there was something enticing about finally getting to know him after all of these years of working together. Maybe this could actually be fun, or interesting at least.
----
I arrived early on Monday morning. I thought I was first into the office as usual but Garcia was sitting in my desk chair waiting for me. The second she saw me walk in she tensed, she must've known we were the only people in this early.
"What happened! You've been avoiding me all weekend?" she asked, and she was right. I'd drafted enough texts to her, trying to explain what the plan was, mostly without wanting to admit that she was right. Maybe I was stubborn.
"Alright okay, I drove Reid home." I admitted, dropping my bag by my desk. She rolls her eyes at me, dramatic as always.
"Well I knew that already Y/N damn! What happened next?"
"Fine, we went into his apartment and talked for a while. Trying to sort out the details, get a handle on things I guess?" I said, unsure of how much I should actually give away about our conversation.
"What things!?" She shouts, standing up from my desk,
"I don't know Pen, like logistics and stuff, I still haven't decided how I feel about that little stunt you pulled on Friday night!" I let my frustration get the better of me, and maybe that's why I haven't talked to her. It could also be because I know she's able to read me like a book and I'm not even sure how I feel about this whole situation.
"I call bullshit." She counters, "I know you were relived as hell when I sorted that whole thing out. You would've had anxiety tummy all weekend if I hadn't called Spencer!" I just go silent, she was right. I'd gotten so caught up in the whole, 'how to have a fake boyfriend' that I'd almost forgotten about how stressed I was about Spencer hearing my call in the first place.
"Okay, shit" I sigh. "Maybe you were right Pen. We're actually meeting up again this Friday after work to make a plan for the next while, so I guess that's progress?" I shrug, trying to play it off like this whole situation doesn't make my stomach flip.
"Ohhhhh! So like a date?" She probes, her enthusiasm rising drastically.
"Oh my God Pen no! Like an appointment at best" I diffuse the situation
"Ugh that's no fun" she says, not even trying to disguise her disappointment.
As if on cue Dr. Reid walks through the double doors into the bullpen. Both Garcia and I wave, overall awkwardly, but making an attempt pretend like things were completely normal and like nothing had changed since the last time we were all in the office together.
Penelope heads to her office as the bullpen starts to fill up quickly. Less than an hour later though Garcia's back at my desk and there's a new case that needs the teams attention in Boston. I follow her into the conference room and wait for the rest of the team to join. Spencer follows a moment later with 2 cups of coffee in his hands. I can see my mug in his hand and my automatic response is that he's messing with me. But he places my mug in front of me in the circular table before taking the seat next to me, listening to Garcia's briefing. I don't know if he's ever sat next to me in this conference room, at least not by choice.
I barely had any time to finish my coffee before I have to say goodbye to Garcia and hop on the jet to Boston.
----
The case was grueling. More so than usual. It was wrapped up late on Thursday night and the team decided to fly back home first thing on Friday morning. I was exhausted. Even if there was enough time to get sleep each night it wasn't like I got any. Whenever a case got on top of me like this it made it hard to rest, or get it off my mind at all until it was wrapped up. So even though it was over, that didn't mean I wasn't exhausted.
Hotch gave the team the rest of the day off, given that we have until submit our paperwork by Monday. I wasn't sure if Spencer's invitation from the following week still stood. I didn't want to ask, partly because I was so tired, but also because I was scared. I wasn't about to show up at his house in an effort to have a heart to heart, or hand him a condensed version of my life story on a manilla envelope if he was as drained as I was.
Standing by my desk I packed up everything I'd need to get my paperwork done over the weekend, I was just about finished when Spencer snuck up behind me, perching himself on the edge of my desk. "So, you almost ready to go?" he asks, like it's the most obvious question in the world. I couldn't really hide my surprise.
"Oh yeah. That's fine, I mean, if you're still cool with that?" I ask, and I hate how flustered I sound, like he makes me nervous.
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He chuckles, standing up straight.
"Cool, gimme a sec and I'll be good to go."
I pack up the rest of my stuff quickly and we make our way out. There's something that feels a little eerie about the two of us being in an elevator together alone again. It was a different kind of awkward to how it felt a week before hand. It almost felt like a kind of tension rather than a hatred or a rivalry. Either way we rode down in silence.
Once we got to the basement Spencer walks out of the elevator and walks straight to my car without having to ask. I unlock it and he hops into the passenger seat. Like this is a natural interaction. Something we do all the time. And I don't hate it as much as I thought I would.
"So," he says, buckling up his seat belt and breaking the silence, "do you know how to get to my place from here or do you need directions again?"
"Well I've got to turn on the engine first" I tease, hoping he picks up on the reference to our last car ride, he chuckles like he does.
"Are you hungry?" he asks
"Starving."
The delivery guy get's to Spencer's apartment at almost the same time we do.
---
Once the food's been demolished the two of us finally sit on his sofa, the same sides as the week before. "So, shall we get back into this?" He asks, sitting forward slightly to pull a notebook out of his satchel on the floor. It's small and lavender, and it's got a pen clipped into the spine. He cracks it open and flips to a specific page.
"Sorry, what's that?" I ask, pointing to the book, he looks confused,
"They're my notes?" he says, like it should be obvious
"Your notes?" I ask,
"My notes on you." he smirks, again like I'm silly for even asking.
He had notes on me? He had a whole notebook on me? What was even in that thing?
"You've got notes on me?" I ask, my hands reaching out to grab it, but he retreats faster than I can catch him. "What have you got in there that's so serious?"
"Nothing." and his tone's a bit too stern and I don't really want to push it when he's being so uncharacteristically nice to me.
"I've actually got this ready for you" I pull the file out of my own bag and toss it to him. "I'm not sure exactly what you need to know but that should be the majority of it at least."
He opens it up and glances over the the pages. It takes him all of 2 minutes to get through the whole thing. It feels unsettling that he's taking in a boiled down version of my life while I'm just sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. Trying to avoid the attention I pipe up.
"Um, hey, maybe it would be a good time for you to show me where to make a start digitizing your books over here?" I stand up and make my way to the shelf. He jumps up off the sofa and walks toward me, visibly excited.
"That's actually a great idea, I thought that the theses from my degrees could be a good place to start, since I'm pretty sure they're not backed up anywhere." he guides me to a section of the book case by the window. There's a series of leather bound hardbacks, the same gold font embossed on the spines. I recognize all of them, pulling out the first one.
"This is my favorite" I say without thinking about it and he does a double take, clearly thrown.
"You've, uh, you read my work?" he asks, completely puzzled. I'm sort of proud that I've managed to make him this awkward, and I nod.
"Mmhm, back before I joined the BAU actually. Before I really knew you" I regret saying the last part, it comes out a little meaner than I really wanted it to so I back track. "Spencer, I read all of your work while I was in college, you were like the gold standard. I don't think I slept more than 2 hours a night throughout my PHD because I was just trying to get as much done as you." and his face softens at the admission. But it takes him a moment before he responds. Leaving the two of us in silence a little too long.
"I had no idea" is all he says.
"I think this one was best" I say propping up the one in my hand, "you get a bit cockier as you move on” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "but I'll start with all of these I guess" I grab the matching books and stack them in my arms. Walking over to his desk and setting up. Glancing at the clock it was only 7pm so I decided to just make a start.
Spencer didn't contest. Letting me just get settled at his desk, I pull out my laptop and begin work on transcribing the first volume. After a few minutes he silently places a cup of tea down beside me and goes to sit on the sofa. The time rolls in quickly after that, each time I look up at Spencer he's carefully combing through the file I'd given him. Re-reading it and making little markings in his lavender notebook. I'm not really sure what I put in there that was worth making a note on but clearly he was reading between the lines on some things. That little notebook was like a profile of me.
When he seemed like he'd finished writing he pulls out his phone, scrolling through it aimlessly like I'd never seen him do before. It made him look so normal. His eyebrows knit together as he's looking at something on his screen and he stands up. Making his way over to me at the desk and shows me what he was looking at.
"Who's this?" he asks, "This guy you're with?"
I recognize the photo instantly. It's from a few years earlier, Nathan and I on the beach, my head resting on his chest. He'd taken it while we were on vacation celebrating our anniversary. That was about a month before I got into the BAU, I had no idea that was going to be our last anniversary. I gulp down the emotions that it stirs. I'm mostly over the whole thing by now, but looking at old photos like that, photos of happier times, it can still sting.
"That's uh, the boyfriend I was telling you about last week. Nathan, we broke up not long after I joined the BAU?" he nods, but he's smart, and I kind of figure he already knew that.
"Ah alright" he takes out the hardback and jots another note down. Maybe he's trying to get a read on me.
"What are you doing?" I gesture to the phone,
"It's research, do you not think that if you and I were really dating that stalking your social media profiles would be on my agenda?" he's smug, and he's right. But I guess I just didn't expect it from him.
"Well that's not really fair now is it? I can't reciprocate, you've got no social media presence whatsoever!" he finds that funny, letting out a deep chuckle and tucking his phone away in his back pocket.
"Maybe so, but that imbalance is hardly my fault. Besides, you've read all my dissertations apparently..."
"Bastard" I joke, slamming my laptop shut and throwing a pen from his desk at him so that it lightly bounces off the top of his head.
"Hey, there's no need for violence Y/N!" he rubs the spot beneath his curls, "Maybe it's time you took a break actually?" he says, sitting himself back down on the sofa.
I was reluctant to admit it but he was right. My eyes were starting to go a little fuzzy after looking at the screen for so long. I stand up and stretch my arms out above my head, feeling my spine stretch out after sitting for so long, letting out a low groan. Spencer waves me over to the sofa and I join him.
"How about we go back to basics?" Spencer asks with a small grin, and I can't help but let out a long sigh.
"I thought I was taking a break, no more questions" he just laughs at me,
"Relax, you're not that interesting, it's just a simple question." he states, and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to find it funny or offensive
"Ugh, fine, shoot"
"Well, actually it's two questions" he corrects, "what's your favorite movie, and what's your favorite snack?"
I'm confused mostly by the fact that it actually is a simple question, I was expecting something a lot more contentious, but also because he looks eager to know the answer.
"I'm not really sure what my favorite movie is to be honest, one of them is Night of the Living Dead?"
He nods to himself, and jots it down in the notebook again, "Alright, I can make that work" he stands up off the sofa before turning back to me, "and snack?"
"Peanut butter cups I guess?" I respond and he grins ear to ear, which is a completely new sight, and I like it way more than I thought I would.
"Perfect, gimme 2 minutes!" he leaves the living room and wanders towards the kitchen.
Spencer returns a few minutes later with a DVD, a packet of peanut butter cups , and a thick knitted blanket gathered in his arms. He drapes the blanket over me and gently places the peanut butter cups on top of it before popping the DVD into the player and sitting down beside me. I'm not really sure how to process any of the situation. Am I about to watch a movie on Spencer Reid's sofa? Sitting next to Spencer Reid?
"I... I, uh, thought you were just asking for your notes?" I ask, pointing at the notebook resting in his lap. He picks it up and throws it onto the coffee table.
"Sometimes I find experience is the best teacher, don't you?" he asks before pressing play, “And besides, it should keep you quiet for a whole 96 minutes” of course.
I can only nod in agreement, I'm not really sure what I'll say if I try to speak. I get myself cosy under the warm blanket and we watch the movie in near silence.
Once the credits roll Spencer finally speaks up, "I actually went to see a screening of this last month downtown, there was this little old horror movie fest-" I cut him off without really realizing, I'm just strangely excited that we've genuinely got something in common.
"Holy shit, I was there!" I say, more enthusiastic than the situation calls for.
He laughs at my excitement, "Well, I guess we have more overlap than I thought, that should probably help with the whole charade." he stretches his arms up over his head and let's out a small, gentle yawn. I'd been enjoying myself more than I thought I would, or would ever tell Spencer, that I'd almost forgotten that we'd both been on a case for almost every waking moment of the past week. I really should feel a lot more drained than I do.
I was just after midnight when I suggested that I head back home. I offered to take some of the books home to work on throughout the weekend but Spencer insisted that I just work on them whenever I came over again. I sort of felt like I should thank him for the evening when I was on my way out the door, or give him a quick hug, no that felt wrong. In the end all I could really muster was a lousy, "goodnight" and a meek wave on my way out the door before I drove home. And couldn't get to sleep.
— —
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His girl
Johnny Lawrence x kreese's daughter reader
Request:I love this! But like what about an imagine where the reader is kreese's daughter and a total badass (excuse my language please) and Johnny falls hard.... Maybe.... Please 🥺
Warnings: mild language. Fluff
@farewell-to-all
The sound of hard rock music blared from the speakers in the auto shop, well the garage, but you liked to call it your auto shop. It's a place you come and unwind, de-stressing by cleaning and tweaking a bit on your beat up 1967 chevrolet camaro, it's red paint chipping off a bit, black two lines racing down the hood of it. While you was distracted by washing the car you loved dearly, you didn't even notice your father walking inside the garage and turning your music off. You look up and can't help the little scowl that etched itself on your face.
"what the hell are you doing? Blasting that garbage loudly" he spoke with annoyance, eye's glued to you. You turn away from him and focus back on cleaning the camaro.
"well, I was cleaning my car while listening to music, but obviously you had to ruin that" you muttered with attitude, making your father angry.
"why don't you take a break from this stupid car and destroying your hearing with that damned music and train some with me in the dojo? God knows you need it" he looks you up and down, eye's flickering over your tiny muscles and weak looking self.
"are you implying I can't take care of myself now?" you ask him, throwing the cloth you held down and standing up, glaring at him.
"I'm implying that you need to learn more about you're own self defense, just looking at you makes me feel pathetic" he said, and even though he didn't intend it to sound insulting you scoff and shake your head.
"why don't you go back to you're dojo and prance around" you spat out, picking the rag back up and wiping the car down. Your father let's out a sigh and heads toward the exit, but stops to turn around towards you.
"you will always be my little girl y/n, I'm just trying to look out for you" you look over your shoulder at him.
"yeah? Well I'm capable of protecting myself, you've done taught me everything I need to know about self defense" you grumbled, he nods and walks out. You sigh and look at the red and black car with a little frown. Maybe you should show up at the cobra Kai dojo one day, surprise your father. You was growing a bit rusty with swift kicks and blocking....
The corner stores neon lights light up the darkness of the street. The moon out as the sun had descended the sky hours ago. Shutting your camaro off you step out of the car and head into the store, in search of snack foods and soda, tonight's planned dinner. Walking into the store you walk around, scanning the isles for whatever catches your eye's. But then you heard loud chatter among a group of people, when you take a peek like the curious person you are at the people you see a small group of guys, all wearing red jackets. You soon realize that it's cobra Kai jackets.
"hey beautiful, you look like you could really use a few drinks, wanna come along to a party with me and my friends?" you look away from the group of guys and see dark haired man standing beside you. Giving the stranger a unimpressed look you shake your head.
"I'm gonna pass, but thinks for the weird offer" you say and take a bag of chips off the shelf along with some bread.
"oh c'mon gorgeous, it'll be fun" he pushed, following you through the store. You take a six-pack of soda of another shelf and head for the checkout.
"listen pal. I said no, so leave me alone before I make you" you threatened, that caught the attention of the cobra Kai group. Placing the stuff in your arms down you watch the cashier scan them. But much to your dismay the stranger wouldn't leave....
"oh yeah? What's a small little girl like you gonna do?" he goes to grab your arm but you grab his hand and twist his rest, swiftly kicking his legs out from under him, causing him to fall on his knees where you then kick his chest.
"that" was all you said as you throw cash on the counter and grab your stuff and leave. But a certain someone followed you.
"hey! Wait up" you sling the bags into the passenger seat and lean on the car, watching the blonde man approaching, stopping in front of you with a impressed smile.
"that was awesome what you did back there, I was going to kick that guys ass for you but... It looks like you can handle you're own just fine" he said, blue eye's on you, but then look at the car behind you, "67 camaro, nice" he muttered with a grin.
"what did you want? Not to be rude or anything but I have dinner to make" you crossed your arms and look at the handsome man, although you didn't know him he had caused your heart to skip a beat, with those gorgeous blue eye's and soft face, you found it infuriating how gorgeous he really was.
"I originally wanted to say that you left your soda, but now I wanna look at this car" he points at the car with a smile, eye's alight with joy. You sigh and let a small smile etch its way on your face.
"take a look if you want, just don't try and steal it or anything" you joke while popping the hood open, letting him see inside. He chuckles while walking around to see the beauty of the motor.
"after what I saw in there, I don't think I have the balls to try and steal it" he joked right back, making you giggle.
"I'm y/n by the way" you outstretched your hand awaiting a handshake. He shakes your hand with a smile.
"johnny" he introduced as he then watches how you point out the cars original parts and the ones that you had put in yourself.
It was that night Johnny had started developing feelings for you. But the night he knew he was in love with you... That was a night he wouldn't forget.
Seated on the hood of your car, parked on a old barely used road, you and Johnny look over the city, eating candy as the radio played some rock song. After knowing Johnny for a few months you and him became close friends, he really dug your 'I don't give a shit' personality along with how tough you truly were. Needless to say, Johnny was smitten unbeknownst to you. That's how you found yourself here, head leaning on his shoulder as you was Laughing at Johnny's story he was telling you, about how he tried buying beer by flirting with the middle aged cashier lady.
"there is no way you actually thought that'd work!" you laugh, taking a sip of your drink as he chuckles. Arm wrapped around you.
"it's worked before I thought it would work again! No need to laugh at me" he says with a wide grin, sipping from his beer he managed to get.
"you're such a dork sometimes" you say, laughing lightly. Johnny hums a little in amusement.
"I'm not a dork" he defended himself with a teasing smile, looking down at you.
"says the man who thought a 50 year old woman would sell him beer just because he complemented her hair" you boop his nose making him scrunch it up and turn his head.
Just then a bunch of other teens pull up on the beautiful sight, loud music blaring from their car. You roll yours eyes and feel Johnny's hold on you tighten. The protective gesture warming your heart, even though you both knew you could handle your own well enough.
"looks like a couple of love-birds stole our spot guys" a man spoke up, his voice already pissing you off. Johnny could tell and throws the teens a glare.
"knock it off man, we were hear first" he tossed his beer bottle aside and keeps a eye on the jerks.
"oh yeah? We don't care, now beat it before you regret it losers!" a girl said from the girl, laughing along with the other man and girl in the car. Johnny jumps down from the hood of your camaro and looks them up and down.
"I Think you'll be the ones to regret it if you don't take you're pansy ass's down the road" johnny threatens. You stand beside him and watch how the man who spoke before gets out of the car along with the other one, the two girls staying put.
"shit, what are you doing do about it blondie? Braid our hair?" they laugh, but you felt anger boiling up within you at the goons.
"he's gonna break you're nose, or maybe I will" you growl at the men, making them burst out laughing. Johnny tenses his jaw, fists clenched. You could feel anger rolling off him. But you place a hand on his shoulder calming him down somewhat.
"like you could even throw a punch!" they laughed, really testing your patience. "you're nothing but a -
"a what?! Uh? " johnny seethes, blue eye's fixated a hard gaze on them.
"a little bitch" and that was all it took to have you pounce, shoving passed Johnny and using all the lessons and training your father taught you, kicking, punching and dodging like a professional. Your movements was fast, swift. You didn't even realize it but Johnny was stood frozen in his place, heart pounding, eye's glued to you absolutely kicking those men's ass. He knew he should have helped you, but he couldn't, he was hypnotized by you, how gorgeous you looked, how absolutely sexy it was with how you showed these jerks no mercy....
When the fight was over with the men left in a hurry, faces bruised and swollen, noses bleeding. You smirk and turn around to see Johnny in a trance, his eyes on you as his lips was parted in amazement.
"that was... Wow...." he muttered, causing you to laugh at him, patting him on the shoulder.
"I'm obliged to have you staring at my ass the whole time Lawrence" you say, making him blush and began to stutter. "now I do believe we have a whole bag of chocolates to finish" you say hoping back up onto the hood of the car, eye's watching Johnny with amusement.
"I wasn't staring at you're ass!" he tried to explain but you laugh and shake your head at him. He hops up beside you and watched you open a chocolate bar and take a bite, offering him a bite from yours he indulges. His eyes unable to leave you.
"you have chocolate on your face" you giggle at him, when he goes to wipe it off he completely missed, so you take your thump and wipe it off the corner of his lips, pausing for a moment to take in how close your faces were, his blue eye's locked on your own y/e/c one's. You lean in closer, his breath fanning over your face as you feel his nose slightly bump yours.
He was the one that closed the distance between you, his soft lips moving against yours in a frantic passionate way, his hand instantly on the back of your neck pulling you closer to him, causing you to let out a little sound of surprise into the kiss. Smiling as you placed a hand on his chest, but your lungs longed for air, forcing him to pull away and smile down at you. You felt a flutter in your heart at the way he looked at you in that moment, with such love and affection, a sparkle you'd never forget...
Although Johnny knew that was when he fell in love with you, you knew he had feelings for you at the beginning.
Standing in your father's dojo you practiced moves on a dummy, practicing more so on your kicks, roundhousing and trying to practice getting your legs up higher with each brutal kick you landed. Watching from Afar was Johnny and his friends. Watching how your father teaches you different techniques. Johnny let's a little grin spread across his face, eye's glued to you.
"she's hot, look at how powerful those kicks are" Tommy said, making Johnny smack his arm.
"that's my girl, shut up" he said, eye's never leaving you.
"God her thighs are so freaking toned!" another said. But luckily Johnny didn't hear, to caught up in how you landed one final kick, earning criticism from your father. He stormed off and you looked over at Johnny and wink.
He was absolutely smitten with you. Even though you was kreese's daughter you and you was both dating in semi secret, he couldn't take his eyes off you. He fell hard for you...
A/n: here it is! I hope you like darling! Sorry if it took a bit long to write, and I apologize if it's not good👉👈🥺
#johnny lawrence#johnny lawrence x reader#Johnny Lawrence imagine#william zabka#cobra kai#the karate kid#daniel larusso
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Fall For You - Chapter 4
Characters - Jax Teller x OFC (Katrina)
Summary - Katrina leaves an abuse relationship and heads home after finding out about her father’s passing. Old feelings come back to the surface for a person from her past. Story will follow the events of the show as much as possible. How might have Jax’s story changed with a different woman in his life.
Word Count - 8152
Warnings - NSFW, Hardcore Smut, Violence, Angst, Adult Language, Dark Themes, Fluff, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Accident, Mentions of Physical and Emotional Abuse, Self-Harm. Drinking.
Will add to the warnings as the story progresses. Warnings cover the whole series. Some parts will be more mild than others.
A/N - Feedback is welcomed and encouraged, and may help motivate me to continue. All mistakes are my own. If you would like to be tagged in future parts, please send me an ask to be added to the list.
I know this chapter has been a long time coming. Just took me awhile to get the pieces to fit into the right place. I can only hope that I did it justice. This chapter ended up being twice as long as I expected. I hope that helps make up for the long ass wait…. Oh and there is an added bonus at the end of the chapter…..Smut….If you’re into that kind of thing. I apologize in advance if it sucks…. Been a long time since I’ve written steamy sex scenes. Thanks for following along on this crazy ride.
Katrina spent the week following her father’s funeral preparing the house to put up for sale. She had no desire to continue living in the house that harbored so many bad memories. Her only regret is that bad memories out weigh the good ones involving her mom. She went through all of her father’s belongings. She saved the important stuff, family mementos that mainly involved her mom, some things from her father’s past that she’s curious about, and some items from her childhood. She was surprised to find a shoebox in her closet filled with notes that her, Jax and Opie passed to each other in school. She knew that she should throw them away, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. The stuff she didn’t want to keep was piled up in the driveway under the carport beside the garage for the local thrift store to pick up.
She is leaving the furniture in the house at the recommendation of the Realtor. He told Katrina that having furniture in the house gives potential buyers a better idea of the size of the rooms. Katrina doesn’t really care either way, the furniture will be donated as soon as the house sells. The old Dodge Challenger in the garage Katrina plans to keep. Even if she has to rent a storage unit to store it in until she finds a new place to call home. She is only keeping the bare necessities in the house for her to use until she leaves.
She has to admit that she’s a little relieved that she hasn’t had any unexpected guests. Everything has been pretty quiet since the funeral, other than the explosion that occurred the night before last, on the outskirts of town. She can’t help but wonder if Samcro was somehow involved with it. Maybe that was why Jax hasn’t tried to stop by.
Katrina spent some time pouring over the old photos in her father’s stuff. On the back of the photo of him dressed in Native American regalia was written “Pine Ridge Res”. She wondered if maybe his family lived on the reservation. Maybe she had an aunt or uncle still living there. She was seriously considering taking a drive up there to investigate. Hopefully learn more about his past, so maybe she can understand why he became such a bitter asshole of a father. South Dakota might also be a good place to get a fresh start, away from Charming and far away from Vince.
Katrina puts the photos in an envelope and places it with her duffle in her bedroom. She fixes herself something to eat once she realizes that it’s already evening time. While she is eating, she thinks about the meal Gemma prepared for the dinner after her father’s funeral. She still feels a little guilty for leaving the way that she did. Gemma has a good heart, and has always treated Katrina like family, even if she has a tendency to meddle. Katrina knows in her heart it wouldn't feel right to just leave town without expressing her gratitude to Gemma for all of her help. Once Katrina finishes eating, she cleans up then grabs her jacket. She’s getting a little stir crazy at the house and decides to head over to TM to see if Gemma is still there working in the office. It’s getting a little late, but she remembers Gemma used to work all hours of the day and evening depending on how busy they were.
As Katrina rode her Harley to the shop she knew she was taking a chance on running into Jax. Hopefully he’ll be out doing club stuff, and won’t notice her there. When she pulled into the parking lot at Teller Morrow it was mostly empty save a couple cars and bikes. She parks her bike near the office, relieved to see Gemma’s car parked near the door. When Katrina turns off her bike, she’s surprised that there’s no loud rowdy music coming from the clubhouse. It’s actually pretty quiet. There is light filtering from the office window, so she’s fairly confident that Gemma’s inside. Katrina quietly walks inside the open door, catching Gemma off guard.
“Hey baby, what brings you by?” Gemma asks with concern in her voice. Katrina notices that Gemma looks tired, like the weight of the world is resting on her shoulders.
“I wanted to apologize for leaving the dinner the way I did last week. I feel really bad about it, especially after everything you did to help. I think all the emotions were getting to me, and it was hard listening to all the stories about my father.” Katrina sincerely expresses to Gemma.
Gemma gestures to the chair next to desk, and Katrina takes a seat. “That’s ok baby, I know how hard it is to lose someone. It can take a minute to process everything going on. How are you doing now?” Gemma asks while lightly rubbing Katrina’s arm that is resting on the corner of her desk.
“Better. I cleaned out the rest of the house, got it listed with a real estate agent.” Katrina replies.
Gemma looks a little surprised. “So I guess that means you’re not planning on sticking around.”
Katrina can hear the disappointment in Gemma’s voice. “I don’t belong in Charming anymore. Never really did. I’ll probably stick around for a little bit to make sure everything goes ok with the showings of the house. Then I’m probably gonna take off.”
Gemma shakes her head at Katrina’s first comment. “You’ve always belonged here, Kat. I know Jax and Opie have missed you. I’ve missed you. You were like the daughter I never had. Don’t ever feel like you don’t belong here. You’re family.” Gemma looks Katrina straight in the eyes as she grips her arm.
Katrina sighs as she looks away. If only Gemma knew the truth about her father, maybe she’d understand why this town carried so many bad memories for her. Not to mention the whole Jax and Tara thing. “How are things going here? The clubhouse is pretty quiet.” Katrina asks trying to change the subject.
Gemma loosens her grip on Katrina’s arm. “Been a busy last few days. The club’s dealing with a Mayan problem. Jax’s junkie whore of an ex-wife, Wendy, just gave birth to his son. We don’t know yet if the baby is going to make it. He was born 10 weeks premature with a tear in his abdomen and the family flaw. I just got back to the office after spending a few hours trying to straighten up Jax’s house from the mess his ex left.” Gemma grabs a cigarette from her pack on the desk and lights it.
Katrina is in shock. She didn’t know Jax had an ex-wife and a newborn baby. “Wow. I had no idea.” She’s a little surprised that he was involved with a different women. She had alway imagined that he’d be married to Tara.
“Yeah, it’s been a little crazy around here.” Gemma sighs. “Jax won’t see his son in the hospital. Something about not wanting to get attached incase he doesn’t make it. Which is bullshit, he just doesn’t want to get his heart broken.” Gemma looks at Katrina with a pleading look in her eyes. “Do you think you could talk to him?” Gemma asks hopeful.
Katrina feels uncomfortable with the request. “I don’t know about that.” She tries to decline gently, shaking her head.
“Please, Kat. He won’t listen to me. You and him were so close. Maybe he’ll listen to you.” Gemma pleads.
Ugg. It was the last thing Katrina wanted to do. Get in the middle of family drama. She really doesn't feel it’s her place to get involved, especially since she’s been gone for so long. She’s not as close to Jax as she used to be. She has been trying to avoid that. But seeing Gemma upset breaks her heart. “Ok. I’ll try to talk to him. I can’t make any guarantees that he’ll listen though.” Katrina reluctantly agrees.
“Thank you, Kat. He’s in the clubhouse.” Gemma looks relieved.
Oh shit, right now? Katrina wasn’t expecting to have to do it so soon. She was hoping to have the night to think about how to approach Jax. Katrina reluctantly gets out of her seat followed by Gemma. Gemma takes Katrina in her arms and gives her a little squeeze. “Thank you baby.” Gemma whispers in her ear.
Katrina gives Gemma a light pat on the back before walking out of the office. As she walks to towards the clubhouse she takes deep breaths of the cool evening air trying to steel her nerves. Mentally preparing herself for all the questions she’s sure to get bombarded with. When she enters the clubhouse, all the memories of her, Jax and Opie running around came flooding back to her. It was where she had her first shot of whiskey on a dare, learned to play poker, rocked out to loud music, and almost had her first kiss. It felt like home.
It was pretty quiet inside the clubhouse, with the exception of music playing at a low volume. She was surprised that there was no one there besides Jax. She spotted him at one of the tables, lost in thought and milking a bottle of whiskey. “So I hear congratulations are in order.” Katrina startles Jax from his drink.
Jax looks up in surprise at the intrusion. “You must have been talking to mom.” He sourly replies.
“Jackson Teller, a father.” Katrina teases him as she nears the table.
“Yeah, for how long.” Jax grumbles.
“Your mom said that you haven’t seen your son yet. Why not?” She asks as she takes a seat at the table across from Jax. She notices the sadness in his eyes at the question.
“Don’t really want my heart broken.” Jax replies, staring at the amber liquid in his glass.
“Yeah, she mentioned the heart defect and stomach issues. Something about a junkie whore. Regardless of that, if it was my son, I would be spending every second I could with him.” Katrina tries to encourage him. “Besides that, he’s got a tough as nails father, so he’s gonna be a little fighter. He’ll pull through.”
Jax smiles a little at that last comment. “So what brings you by? Besides doing mom’s dirty work.”
Katrina knows Jax is trying to change the subject. At least she can tell Gemma she tried. “I came by to apologize to your mom about leaving the dinner early after the funeral.”
Jax nods his head softly. “Yeah, everyone was disappointed you left.” Especially me.
“I thought I could handle hearing the stories about my father, but it got to be a little too much to handle at that moment. Brought up a lot of memories.” Bad memories.
“So where have you been for the last 11 years.” Jax asks pointedly.
And so it begins. Katrina can’t help but wonder if it’s too late to walk out the door. She knew Jax was going to have questions, and she had really hoped to avoid them. She gets up from the table to grab herself a shot glass and a coke from the bar, before returning to her seat. This conversation is going to require an excessive amount of alcohol. She grabs the bottle of whiskey sitting in front of Jax and pours herself a shot. Katrina quickly downs the shot, welcoming the burn of the amber liquid as it travels down her throat. She then takes a sip of the coke to calm the burn. Jax patiently waits for her response, taking a drag from the cigarette in his hand.
“When I left Charming, I bought a bus ticket to Vegas. I got a job working at a casino restaurant as a server, and then I found myself an apartment. I became really good friends with a tattoo artist at a parlor in the casino. He let me apprentice under him and has been teaching my how to tattoo and the ins and outs of the business. One day, I hope to have my own shop.” Katrina decides to leave out the part about Vince.
Jax is surprised. The club has a charter in Vegas that he’s visited numerous times over the years. If only he had known Kat was there too. He might have been able to convince her to come home sooner. At the very least, been able to visit her. He’s missed his best friend. When Katrina left, it hurt more than when Tara left for school. It wasn’t until she left that he realized how wrong he was for not pursuing a relationship with her, despite his fears.
“I have to say, I’m a bit surprised that you and Tara aren’t married with a few little ones running around. And what’s this about a ‘junkie whore’?” Katrina asks. Turn about is fair play.
Jax lets out a soft sigh. “Tara left shortly after you did. She went to the university to become a doctor. Then she went out to Chicago to intern at a hospital. She begged me to go with her. To get out of this ‘cess pool of a town’, but Charming is my home. She was pissed that I prospected into the club with Opie, even though it’s what I always wanted. To follow in my father’s footsteps, and be a part of the club that he helped build. We fought about our futures, more than we got along. We started to grow distant from each other. I wasn’t to heartbroken when she left, like I thought I would be. I was more upset about you leaving than her, even though mom blames her for breaking my heart.” Jax confesses. “Tara just recently returned home and is working at St. Thomas hospital.”
Katrina shakes her head, not surprised about Tara trying to change Jax. She had tried to warn him when they were teenagers, but she had alway felt her comments fell on deaf ears. Some people have to learn the hard way. Katrina pours herself another shot and quickly downs it.
“The junkie whore is my ex-wife, Wendy. She was a club hang-around. Her and I started spending a lot of time together. For me, it was about fighting the loneliness I felt after you left. I never really loved her. We got married a few years ago. She started using drugs, so we grew apart. Separated for awhile. Then she got clean, and did a stint in rehab. We tried to make things work again and got back together. That’s when she got pregnant with my son. Things just didn’t line up for us. I wasn’t happy, so we started growing distant again. I filed for divorce a few months ago. Told her I’d help pay the doctor bills for the pregnancy. Haven’t heard from her in a while. Apparently she started using again even though she was pregnant. Mom went over to our house yesterday and found her passed out on the kitchen floor, bleeding between her legs, with a needle stuck in between her fingers. Mom rushed her to the hospital where they preformed an emergency c-section. My son was born 10 weeks premature with a tear in his abdomen and the family flaw. He only has a 20% chance of survival. I should have kept a closer eye on them, maybe this wouldn't have happened” Jax replies with regret heavy in his voice.
“You can’t blame yourself. If she wanted the drugs bad enough, there’s nothing you could have done to stop her. She would have found a way.” Katrina tries to alleviate some of his guilt.
“That may be so, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I did beat the shit out of the dealer that has been supplying her with the poison. Wendy apologized for what she did and promised that she’s going to get clean, but it’s going to take some time to rebuild that trust. I think she’s more worried about being charged with fetal abuse, then she is about our son. If Gemma has her way, Wendy won’t be a part of our son’s life. I can’t say I disagree with mom on that.” Jax has a defeated look on his face as he pours himself another shot.
Katrina matches Jax’s shot with one of her own. She’s starting to feel a buzz from the alcohol, but she’s not sure if it’s enough to get through the questions that she knows are coming. She isn’t slurring her speech yet, but it is getting a little easier to talk. It almost feels like old times, chatting with her best friend… almost.
“So… Why did you leave town, without so much as a goodbye?” Jax asks while looking directly into Katrina’s eyes. He sees a momentary flash of pain cross Kat’s face.
There it is. The million dollar question. The one she was hoping to avoid. All the pain and bad memories came flashing back to the forefront of her mind. She knew deep down Jax has a right to know, but it didn’t make it any easier. She can’t help but fear that once he knows the truth about her father, he’ll look at her differently. With pity, or guilt for not realizing what was going on and stopping it. She doesn’t want him to feel sorry for her, she fought her own way out and it made her stronger.
Kat pours herself another shot and takes a sip of it before answering him. “One of the reasons I left was to get away from my abusive asshole of a father. Shortly after my mom died, my father started to become distant to me. It was like the sight of me reminded him of what he lost. Almost like he blamed me for her death, even though she died from cancer. He would loose his temper over the smallest things. That lead to him breaking things around the house. If there were dirty dishes left in the sink, he would throw them across the room shattering them against the wall. If I left my backpack on the floor after school, he’d toss it. He started punching holes in the walls, kicking down doors. After while the only thing that seemed to calm him was liquor. As soon as he arrived home from work he’d grab a beer from the fridge, sometimes a couple of them. When the beer started losing its effectiveness he started drinking more hard liquor and getting into drug use. That’s when I started to become his punching bag. If I got in his way he’d hit or kick me. If he felt I was talking back to him he’d slap me across my face. He told me I was worthless, that I was no better than garbage, and that he couldn’t wait until I was no longer his problem.”
Katrina lightly rubbed the small row of scars near wrist with her thumb, slightly hidden by the skeleton torso tattoo on her forearm. She remembers the pain she felt inside from her father’s words and the relief she felt cutting herself with the small knife she kept in her pocket. She never cut herself deep enough for there to be very much blood, just enough for the physical pain of the blade sliding across her skin to distract her from the pain in her heart.
She glances at Jax’s face and sees the shock and anger in his eyes. Before she continues, she grabs a cigarette from the pack on the table, lights it, then takes a deep drag off it to calm her nerves.”That’s why I used to wear long sleeve shirts and jeans in the middle of summer. To hide all the bruises and scratches on my arms and legs. I stayed out as late as possible with you and Opie, hoping that my father would be passed out before I got home. Some times I’d get lucky and he’d be asleep on the couch, other times I was greeted with him calling me a slut or a whore for staying out so late with the guys. I tried to avoid him as much as possible. When it got closer to graduation I started planning my escape. I saved as much money as I could from my after school job, and used it to buy a bus ticket. I just always seemed to be in the way. So when I got old enough, I got out of the way”
"Why didn't you say something? Tell us that was going on.” Jax is heartbroken and angry to find out that his best friend had been suffering and he did nothing to stop it. He remembered the nights when he, Katrina and Opie hung out. Remembered her reluctance to go home when Gemma said it was time to get ready for bed. Or the nights Katrina begged him to hang out for just one more hour, even though it was already getting pretty late.
"What? So that you could 'save me'. I didn't want your pity or for you to feel sorry for me. I didn't need you to fight my battles.” Katrina defends her silence on the matter, a hint of scorn in her voice.
"So you run away instead? Leave behind every one you've ever known. The people that love and care about you." Jax accuses her, the hurt evident in his eyes.
"Seems to me like you were busy loving someone else." Katrina mumbles under her breath.
Jax gives Katrina a confused look. He wasn’t sure he heard her right, but he had a feeling she was referring to his relationship with Tara. “Now that your father is gone, are you planning on sticking around Charming?” Jax asks, hopeful that there may be an opportunity for them to spend more time together. To reconnect.
Katrina sighs before downing the rest of her shot. “I put the house on the market. The stuff I plan on keeping I’m going to get a storage unit for until I find a new place. I’m not planning on going back to Vegas, but I am thinking of heading north. Maybe towards the Dakotas.” She sees the disappointment on Jax’s face.
“I was kind of hoping that you were going to stick around for a bit.” So maybe I could change your mind about leaving. Jax feels crestfallen, his heart is pounding in fear that she’ll leave and he’ll never get a chance to find out if they would be good together. Ever since Katrina returned to Charming, the what if’s and should’ve beens have been plaguing Jax’s mind. He knows now that it was a mistake hooking up with Tara back in high school. It should have been Kat. She always understood him, never made him feel that he had to choose between her or the club. Things might have been so different for both of them.
“I was going to stick around for maybe another week or two, just to make sure there are no problems with showing the house. Incase something major needs to be fixed.” Katrina reassures Jax, although, by the look of his face he’s not.
“So are you seeing anyone?” Jax isn’t sure he really wants to know the answer, but he can’t help himself. He has to know if she’s involved with another man. If there is even the slightest chance he can convince her to stay.
“I was, but it’s over now.” She really doesn’t want to elaborate on her relationship with Vince, and she hopes that answer is enough to appease Jax.
Jax feels a flicker of hope. “You said your dad was one of the reasons why you left, were there any other reasons?” Despite what Kat was going through with her dad treating her like shit, Jax still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that she would just leave. Without any warning or even a goodbye. They were best friends. He has never felt as close to another person as he did her, and for her to disappear the way she did, crushed him. He has a feeling there is more to the story.
Katrina groans inwardly at the question, but at this point, with the alcohol coursing through her veins she feels there is no point in holding back. She has already confessed one of her darkest secrets by revealing her past with her father, what’s one more secret. It’s not like it can change the past.
“The other reason I left was because it killed me seeing you and Tara together. I’ve had feelings for you since we were kids. I thought as we grew up and got older those feelings would change, but they never did. I was in love with you and it broke my heart seeing you with her.” Katrina confesses feeling extremely exposed. She just laid her heart and soul on the table.
Jax is blown away by her answer. He feels a sense of relief that she shares his feelings. He knew she cared about him when they were younger, but he always felt that she probably cared about him in a sort of brother sister way. To find out that she was in love with him made his heart soar, and gave him even more hope that there is a chance they could be together. If he can convince her to stay and give them a chance. “Why didn’t you ever tell me how you felt?” Jax asks, even though he can guess her answer.
“I was afraid you didn't feel the same way towards me, and it would just come across as jealously towards Tara. That it would change the way you felt around me, the way you acted around me. I was afraid of losing my best friend.” Katrina admits.
Jax feels like a dumbass now. All this time wasted that they could have been together. If they wouldn’t have been so afraid to tell each other. “I also have something to confess. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Since we were kids.”
Katrina looks at Jax with surprise on her face. She never expected to hear those words come out of his mouth. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Maybe it was the whiskey talking. "So why didn't you ever tell me how you felt?" Katrina asks, genuinely intrigued.
"Because I was terrified that if or when I fucked things up between us, I would not only lose the woman I loved, but I'd also lose my best friend. It wasn’t until after you left that I realized the mistake I made. And I lost you anyways." Jax admits, his voice filled with sadness and regret.
“If you had feelings for me, then why did you hook up with Tara?” Katrina asks in confusion.
“I had some feelings for Tara, but I don’t think I was ever truly in love with her. She was more of a distraction from my feelings for you. Same with Wendy. Every time I was with them, it was your face I saw.” Jax feels a little weird for revealing that part, but it was the truth. Every woman he’s been with he pictured Kat’s face. Wished it was her, he was with.
“When you were dating Tara, I always felt invisible to you. I felt like you saw me as just one of the guys. You started to become distant to me, so I started spending more time with Opie. It seemed like every time you paid even a little bit of attention to me, Tara would snatch it away. It got to the point, where I started avoiding you, to keep myself from getting hurt.” Katrina confesses.
Jax winces at her words. He hates himself for how he hurt her, even though that was never his intention. In his mind, he was trying to protect her and their friendship, by avoiding what his heart yearned for. “I am so sorry, Kat. I never meant to hurt you. I was just trying to bury my feelings for you because I was afraid. I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way towards me and I’d ruin our friendship. I didn’t want to lose you. You have no idea how much I regret those decisions.” Jax sincerely apologizes. He takes Katrina’s hand into his and looks into her eyes. The years of pain and hurt shine in her eyes and he feels heartbroken that he caused some of that pain.
“Yeah, well, that’s all in the past.” Katrina tries to brush it off. She still feels the sting of all those memories, even if it feels like a lifetime ago.
“What if we gave us a shot?” Jax asks, hopefulness in voice. He has vowed to himself that if the opportunity ever came up to be with Kat, that he wouldn’t hesitate.
Katrina looks at Jax in surprise at his question. She feels butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of finally getting what she had always wanted. To finally be with the man that she has been in love with most of her life, but another part of her feels cautious. “I don’t know, Jax. A lot has changed since we were kids. We’re not the same people we were back then. We’ve both changed. Hell, you’re a father now, and VP of SAMCRO.” Katrina is trying to rationalize in her head why this is a bad idea, even though her heart is pounding with excitement. The alcohol running through her veins isn't helping the situation.
“Come on Kat. We both have feelings for each other. I know the first time I laid eyes on you, when you got back into town, I felt butterflies in my stomach. All of those old feelings I had for you came rushing back. I can’t stop thinking about you, and how much I want you in my life.” Jax pleads with her. He has never wanted something as bad as this. To make a life with Kat by his side.
Katrina hesitates to give Jax an answer. This isn’t something to just rush into, especially with her alcohol hazed brain. She needs some time to think this through. She is supposed to be getting out of Charming, not tying herself down. She can’t help but be concerned about Vince. What if he tries to track her down. As much as she hopes that he’ll take the hint, that she’s not coming back, she can’t help but fear that he won’t be so willing to let her go. Even though she has no doubt that Jax will do everything in his power to protect her, she doesn’t feel it should have to be his problem.
“Jax, it’s not that easy. We both have other things going on in our lives. There’s no guarantee that us being together will even work.” Katrina tries to dissuade him. She doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something that may just be a pipe dream.
“At least we could try. If it doesn’t work then so be it, but I can’t live with the what ifs and could have beens without at least giving it a chance.” Jax tries his best to convince her. If he has to get down on his knees and beg he’s not afraid to do it.
“Maybe we should think this though. Preferably when we’re both not drunk.” A part of Kat wants to say yes….god yes… but she also doesn’t want to agree to something she might regret.
Jax is a little disappointed in Kat’s hesitation, but at least she hasn't said no yet. There may be hope.
Katrina gets up from her chair, her legs feel a bit wobbly. “I should probably head home, it’s getting late.”
“Like hell, you are” Jax replies a little too sharply, while grabbing the keys to her bike off the table. He rises from his seat to face her.
Katrina stares daggers at Jax, a little miffed at his tone. If he thinks he can control her and what she does, he’s got another think coming.
Jax quickly realizes how that came across. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out that way. It’s just, we’ve both been drinking…a lot. You’ve pretty much matched me shot for shot. I wouldn’t feel safe getting on my bike right now, and I don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to either. I’d hate to wake up in the morning, and find out that you wrapped your bike around a tree or something. You should probably crash here tonight.” Jax tries to explain.
Katrina is a little relieved at Jax explanation. It makes sense, although she’s not sure its a great idea to spend the night at the club house.
Jax approaches Kat, the draw of being near her to great to deny. He gently places his hand on her check, the memory of the bruise around her eye flashes across his mind. His thumb lightly caresses her check bone, but when there is no flinch from her, he is relieved that the wound has healed. He still feels that flash of anger that anyone would dare to raise a hand to her. He slowly lowers his lips to hers, aching to feel their softness against his. He has longed to kiss her for as long as he can remember.
Katrina is a little nervous at Jax’s closeness, but her body is quick to respond despite the warnings in her mind. When she feels Jax’s lips against hers an excitement courses through her veins. The feel of his velvety lips against hers was almost as intoxicating as the whiskey they have been drinking. Jax’s hands start slowly sliding down Katrina’s neck then around to her back, where he gently coaxes her into an embrace. Her body melds to his like it was made for it.
As the kiss deepens, warning bells go off in Katrina’s head. Her rational mind warns her that she should stop this from going any further, but years of pent up longing urge her to keep going. Katrina is swept up in the smells of leather, smoke and light cologne, with a hint of vanilla that seemed uniquely Jax. Before she realizes what is happening, she feels Jax’s hands lightly caress the sides of her breasts before traveling down her waist to rest on her hips. He draws her hips in closer to his and she can feel the evidence of his arousal. His breathing gets heavier, and Katrina feels the butterflies in her stomach.
Even though in her mind she knew this was a bad idea, Jax was like a drug, and she was jonesing for a hit. There was a passion between her and Jax that she had never felt with Vince. Maybe it was because it had been building since their youth. The feelings they had been holding back finally able to be explored. Katrina gives as much as she takes, returning Jax’s kiss with a fever of her own. She lightly rubs the tip of her tongue on Jax’s lips until he grants her access to his mouth. She hears his groan as he starts grinding his erection into her stomach. Jax starts guiding her to his dorm room without breaking the kiss. By the time they enter the room, they are both breathing heavily. Jax kicks the door shut with his foot, not wanting to break contact with Kat.
Katrina reaches for Jax’s belt intent on releasing it as she starts to kneel down in front of him. Jax grabs her arms and lifts her back up. “As much as I’d love to see your beautiful face going down on me, I want tonight to be all about you. I want to show you how strong my feelings are for you.” Jax expresses to her.
This is a new experience for Katrina, and she can’t help but feel a little excited about it. When she was with Vince, it was all about what he wanted and how he wanted it. Often times it seemed their lovemaking was very one sided, with her left feeling unsatisfied. Like she was just a toy for his pleasure.
Jax cups Katrina’s face and gives her another soul searing kiss. She can’t get enough of the taste and feel of his lips on hers. His hands wander down to the hem of her shirt and he gently lifts it up. They break the kiss long enough to get the shirt over her head. Jax then goes after Katrina’s belt, pulling it loose from its buckle, then he quickly releases the button on her dark jeans. He slowly slides her jeans down her legs then ghosts his fingers over her panty clad pussy. He smiles when he hears her sharp intake of breath. Katrina toes off her boots then slides the jeans off the rest of the way.
Jax takes a step back to take in Kat’s beauty while he kicks off his own shoes. Her black bra and panties compliment her tanned skin. He takes off his kutte and drapes it over the back of a nearby chair. The question of whether Katrina has more ink finally being answered. He has seen the tattoos on her arms, but now he’s seeing a large dreamcatcher on one of her sides and a colorful feather on the other. There is a black crow with a purple background on her collarbone and an angry wolf surrounded by roses on her thigh. He can’t help but admire the art adorning her body and is surprised that he finds himself getting even more aroused seeing it.
Jax guides Katrina to the bed where she sits on the edge and watches as he removes his pants and white t-shirt. He tosses them onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Jax approaches her in just his boxers not bothering to hide the fact that his cock is straining against the material. He tilts her face up for a quick kiss before his lips and tongue start wandering down her neck. He can’t help himself as he leaves a small hickey just above her collarbone. Jax caresses her breasts over the fabric of her bra, before reaching around to unclasp it and watching in awe as her perfect breasts are exposed. He takes one nipple into his mouth sucking and using his tongue to tease it into a peak, while he lightly caresses the other bud. His gently pinches and rolls her exposed nipple with his calloused fingers until it hardens and becomes sensitive. He then laves the other nipple with his tongue, sucking until he feels Kat squirm. Kat feels a tingling sensation travel from her stomach to her core. She can feel wetness gathering in her panties.
Jax lightly pushes on Katrina’s shoulders, encouraging her to lay back on the bed. Settling between her thighs he continues to lavish her body with attention, kissing and licking his way down to her panties. He starts rubbing her clit lightly through her underwear, just enough to cause her to squirm towards his hand. Her breathing becomes erratic, hitching every time his fingers touches the right spot. He can sense a bit of frustration from her at his teasing, causing his lips to curl into a smirk. Finally Jax runs his fingers along the top edge of her panties, slowly pulling them down her thighs, and leaving a trail of kisses and licks in their wake.
That first flick of Jax’s tongue on Katrina’s clit causes an explosion of sensations coursing through her body. She can’t remember the last time someone went down on her, making this time feel like the first time. Jax’s warm breath, and the feel of his whiskers rubbing on her most sensitive area threatening to send her over the edge. Jax can sense her body tensing up, like a coil ready to snap, so he starts kissing the inside of her thighs to give her a chance calm. Once her breathing returns to some semblance of normal he focuses his attention back on her core. The light ghosting of his tongue in her folds and around that little bundle of nerves feels like heaven to Kat. It doesn’t last long though. Jax quickly starts licking and sucking her bud like a man starved for water.
“God baby, you taste like honey to me, and I can’t get enough.” Jax praises her between breaths, as he laps up her juices.
It takes everything inside of Kat not to lose control. She runs her fingers through Jax’s hair as he continues his assault on her clit. His tongue then prodding her slit, going directly to the source of her sweetness. Katrina’s moans increase, and Jax’s name becomes a silent prayer. She then feels his finger teasing at her entrance. Lightly caressing through her folds, gathering moisture before sliding the slender digit inside her. He pumps his finger in and out, surprised at how tight she is. The feeling of her walls clenching on his finger sending a fresh surge of arousal straight to his already straining cock. He could tell the tip of it was already leaking pre-cum. Jax adds another finger inside her to help prepare her for what’s to come. He twists his fingers around and starts doing a come hither motion. Jax quickly finds that little bundle of nerves inside her that will probably be her undoing. He can feel her clench around his fingers and her thighs start to squeeze. Kat starts pulling his hair as he continues licking her clit and rubbing that hidden gem inside her. He can tell Kat is getting close to her release by her ragged breathing and the tightening of her muscles.
“Fuck, Jax, don’t stop.” Katrina manages between shuddering breaths. She can feel the knots in her stomach unraveling. Her impending orgasm right on the cusp of sending her over the edge. Her moans get louder the closer she gets.
“It’s ok baby, you can let go.” Jax encourages her. “Cum for me. Give me some more of that sweet nectar.”
That is her undoing. Jax’s husky voice beckoning her to release the flood gates. Wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over her. Her vision starts to fade and she is seeing stars. Her body shudders and her juices dribble straight into Jax’s waiting mouth. Jax laps every bit of it up as he slows the movement of his fingers. He tries to ease her down from her climax before removing his fingers.
When Kat’s breathing returns to normal she looks down at Jax’s smiling face. The evidence of her release glistening on he mustache and beard. Jax gently withdraws his fingers from inside her pussy, and she instantly feels a void. “I need you inside me.” There is a hunger in her eyes as Kat pleads to Jax. She wants…no needs, more.
Jax stands up and removes his boxers, finally unleashing the beast. Katrina is a little taken back by the size of his cock. She had no idea he was packing that much heat. Explains the loose fitting jeans. She feels a rush of excitement, and maybe a little bit of fear that it’s going to hurt. Jax sees her concern and reminds himself to take it slow, give her some time to adjust. She is nothing like the crow-eaters he’s fucked, girls that have taken so many dicks it a wonder they can feel anything.
“Do you have a condom?” Katrina timidly asks, suddenly nervous. Jax has already produced one son, she doesn’t want to take any chances that tonights actions result in another.
“Yeah, I do.” Jax can’t help but feel a little bummed about not being able to experience her pussy bareback, but he understands. He reaches into the nightstand drawer and pulls out a little foil package. Katrina watches in fascination as he tears it open with his teeth and pulls out the rubber. Jax strokes his straining cock a couple times then rolls the condom down from the tip to the base.
Katrina scoots up the bed giving Jax room to join her. He settles between her legs and pulls her face in for another passionate kiss. He then guides his cock to her core rubbing the head along her folds, gathering her wetness to help ease his passage. He lines himself up and slowly pushes his cock into her wet slit, going an inch at a time. He slowly rocks his hips back and forth, gaining an inch each time he pushes forward. When he finally bottoms out, he pauses for a moment, giving Kat time to adjust to his girth. When Jax stops, Katrina releases the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She has never felt this full before. There is a slight burning from the stretch in her pussy, as well as an intense pleasure at the fullness.
“Relax your muscles, baby. It’ll help.” Jax whispers in her ear, concern in his tone.
After a few calming breaths, Kat feels ready for him to start moving again. She tilts her pelvis towards him, and then gives him a slight nod. Jax sets a slow pace at the beginning. The feeling of her tight, constricting walls threatening to send him over the edge. He feels like a damn teenager, ready to blow his load after only a few quick pumps. It takes every ounce of his control to prevent that from happening.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Jax whispers almost reverently. He’s trying to stay in control, but he feels it slipping fast as he picks up the pace. Thrusting in and out, fast and faster. His balls crashing against her ass, as her walls clench around him. The tip of his cock brushing against her cervix each time he bottoms out.
Katrina feels the knot in her stomach growing. Every time Jax trusts into her pussy a tingle travels down her spine and straight into her core. She can feel her climax quickly approaching. She wraps her arms around his chest, her nails digging into his back. The moans coming from her mouth getting louder and louder each time his cock brushes against her sweet spot.
Jax can feel her tightening around him, and he knows he’s not going to be able to last much longer. “It’s ok, baby. Cum for me. Cum on my cock.” Jax reaches down to her clit, rubbing circles over it with his thumb.
Katrina is plunging over the edge as another intense orgasm rips through her body. Every nerve ending in her body is tingling as her juices coat Jax’s dick and balls. She clings to Jax’s body as she rides out the high. Jax follows her after a few more thrusts, a wave of euphoria washing over his body as his cock releases rope after rope of warm cum. Jax collapses next to her on the bed, then he draws her into his embrace. His twitching cock still nestled in her depths. They both lay there for a moment trying to catch their breath.
“That was amazing.” Jax says in awe, his breathing still labored. His fantasies of her never even coming close to the bliss he just experienced.
Katrina nods her agreement, exhaustion claiming her body. She nestles into Jax’s warmth as he squeezes her against him. Jax kisses the top of her head, as a feeling of contentment washes over him. He doesn’t want this night to end.
After a few minutes the twitching of Jax’s cock subsides and it begins to soften. He wraps his hand around the base of it to hold the condom in place as he withdraws it from Kat’s warm depths. Even as sleep starts to claim Kat, she can’t help the groan that escapes her mouth at the loss of the fullness in her pussy. Jax chuckles a little at the pout now gracing her face. He disposes of the condom in the trash, before heading into the bathroom to clean up. Once he is done cleaning himself, he returns to the bed with a warm washcloth to gently clean Kat. She flinches a little when he wipes around her sensitive bud. He has no doubt that she’s going to be a little sore tomorrow. When he finishes with the washcloth, he tosses it into a nearby laundry basket, before turning off the light. He climbs back into the bed, pulling the covers over them. Katrina seeks out his warmth again, resting her head on his chest as his arm wraps around her back drawing her close. Sleep quickly claims both of them.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Tagging: @momc95 @jerseynurse82
#redwood original#reaper crew#SAMCRO#soa#soa fanfiction#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy#jax teller fanfic#jax teller imagine#jax teller smut#jax teller
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On plural inclusivity and "plural they"
In the Gender Census feedback box and elsewhere I have frequently been asked:
to make the annual Gender Census survey more inclusive of plural participants, and
to add "plural they" to the checkbox pronouns list alongside "singular they" in order to be inclusive of plural participants.
It's a rambling topic, so I'll address them in sections in that order.
~
INCLUSIVITY RE: PLURAL PARTICIPANTS
I've been inviting plural people to take part in a short survey about the Gender Census, asking questions that help me get a feel for the issues involved and asking about whether people feel included in the survey (and why or why not). At the time of writing there have been 139 responses, I will leave it open for ongoing feedback, and I'm unlikely to be publishing the spreadsheet of results in full because the responses are off-topic and very personal. However, I will refer to some individual responses as well as my personal experience discussing inclusion with plural systems.
Here's a graph based on the responses so far:
I'm asking for direct feedback about this issue because over the past few years plural folks have been one of the more consistently vocal groups in the feedback box of the survey and elsewhere, which would usually be fine, but I've been finding it very overwhelming and confusing. I think that's because the advice/demands/questions have been unusually inconsistent, often to the point of being in direct opposition to each other, and the result is that I have no idea what to do.
Before now, most plural people have understood that it's quite a nuanced issue. When asked I would explain that if they felt that filling it in once for the whole system made more sense they should do that, and if individual system members felt strongly that they should participate alone then they could do so.
This year it got to the point where I had to make a decision and write unambiguous, easy-to-follow guidance about how plural people should fill in the survey, because I had one system submitting dozens of responses and giving the exact same three points of feedback, paraphrased, over and over - making it look like many unconnected people felt strongly about these particular issues, when in reality it was all this one system. I decided that, to be as fair as possible, plural people should fill in the survey once per body.
When I posted about the "once per body" policy on social media I received very little direct feedback, which leaves me in the position of not knowing whether that's because I did it right and you have no complaints or because you've all jumped ship! The statistics and comments from the plural feedback survey are very helpful in this regard:
It seems that plural participants, on the whole, are fairly understanding about it all, often supportive, and are still able to participate. ("Unknown" and "no strong feelings" together are a much higher proportion than I expected.) Some positive feedback included appreciation for the ability to select as many gender identities and pronouns as one wants. Common arguments against the policy include feeling that system members are not treated as people in their own right, which is understandable; the Gender Census is designed to present practicable data about nonbinary people for use within a system that assigns one identity per body, socially and bureaucratically. A "once per body" policy makes sense when prioritising nonbinary people, but adds to the list of crap that only plural people have to struggle through when they're not the main focus of the research.
I was surprised that only a couple of people pointed out that some systems have amnesia between members, and so some systems may participate more than once per body unintentionally. (I understand that this is unavoidable, and I certainly wouldn't be upset about it. Sometimes non-plural people participate more than once by accident, too! On the scale we're talking about, I'm unlikely to even notice it happening.)
Back when I first started to get requests to make the Gender Census more plural-inclusive, my first move was to ask people what exactly they felt excluded by. Responses to this have been continuously nebulous, to the extent that I don't think I have ever made any design changes to the annual survey at all as a result. I also asked what they would do to improve the survey and help them to feel included, but this has yielded very few viable ideas for how to move forward, just because so many of the ideas that people suggest are mutually exclusive.
As an example, I spoke to one member of a system who expressed, understandably, that their experience of themselves as plural inextricably affected their experience of their gender(s), and after some discussion they concluded that the two were so intertwined that it made the most sense for it to be included in the identity question, e.g. a checkbox called "plural" alongside nonbinary, genderqueer, trans, etc. I explained that I don't arbitrarily add things to the checkbox list, but it would be counted if it was typed into a textbox underneath, and if it went over 1% I would consider adding it to the checkbox list. They became increasingly angry. The only way this situation would make sense for them moving forward was if I added "plural" as an identity checkbox option immediately. Conversely, just a couple of weeks previously I had spoken with a member of a system who was very vocally distressed at the idea of plurality being conflated with gender, and wanted to make sure that I never added "plural" as an identity checkbox option.
As another example, in the plural feedback survey when I asked people how they felt about the "once per body" policy, a member of one system was against it and said "it feels like this policy doesn’t recognize us as separate people", but a member of another system was in favour and said "we're encouraged by our therapist to think of ourselves as dissociated parts of a whole. So we're all one person, just not directly connected like a singlet [non-plural person] would be. From that perspective, it makes sense to keep us as one person in the gender census, no matter how many genders we have." It's not possible to reconcile these two perspectives.
From the very beginning up until now, the unifying theme for feedback from plural people and their allies is "please be more inclusive of plural people." That's a really good start! After that it becomes a plate of tangled spaghetti.
Here are some themes I've managed to tease out, and my thoughts.
"Each system's alter should be able to participate in the survey individually if they want to." Some systems have literally hundreds of alters, and several systems have acknowledged in the feedback survey that this is probably both impractical for many plural people and unfair on singlets.
"We're okay with taking part once for all of us in the system, but we're just checking all the boxes that apply to at least one of us, and some of those are explicitly disliked by at least one of us. This is uncomfortable." I think that's... probably okay, actually. Other subcategories of participants whose identities fluctuate that strongly (e.g. a genderfluid person who is sometimes very male and sometimes extremely not male) or whose pronouns are context-dependent are also in this predicament. Participants often express a desire to rank their identity terms by importance, accuracy, fluctuation or frequency. The survey aims to collect broad and fuzzy data about a very large group of people, to monitor trends and let people know what language we're comfortable with on the whole. This survey just isn't looking for that kind of nuance.
"We're okay with taking part in the survey once for everyone in the system, but there should be a way to separate out responses about different alters within that one response." It's literally impossible to program the survey to have infinite subsections for each alter, but if it were possible, what would I do with the data? I think the most likely approach would be combining into a list of identities etc. "per body". The participant would feel better for being able to enter different words for different alters, but it would be more work for them, and it would be more work for me to process responses from plural people just to have them be counted like those from non-plural people.
"There should be a 'plural' checkbox in the identity list so that we can express that our gender is influenced by our plurality." I consider adding terms to the identity checkbox list when they're typed into the textboxes by over 1% of participants. There are some situations where I'll make an exception to that rule, but it's unusual and this isn't one of them. Whether you enter a term using a checkbox or a textbox makes no difference to how well-represented you are in the results.
Maybe just a question that asks if you're plural, with a checkbox? What would this checkbox do? Plurality is beyond the scope of the survey, along with things like height and eye colour. It would allow curious people to analyse the responses using plurality as a variable, but I wouldn't include it in any analysis in an annual Gender Census report.
That last one is particularly interesting, because it's what I actually did in the supplementary survey. I wasn't 100% sure in advance whether or not I would need that information for the singular vs. plural they issue, so I included an "I am/we are plural" checkbox just to be on the safe side. As far as I could tell, the survey was no more or less materially inclusive than the annual Gender Census survey. There were a couple of interesting patterns to report in the statistics, but the main things I noticed were:
Feedback saying that the survey wasn't inclusive of plural people was non-existent.
Several people thanked me in the feedback box for making the survey plural-inclusive.
Several people promoted the survey on social media by using its plural-inclusivity as a selling point.
Again, the supplementary survey didn't take a different approach. There was no particular difference in language, there was no indication that whether or not you're plural would be integral to the reporting of the results or even used at all, the only difference was the existence of a checkbox that let participants declare their plurality.
That's all it took to cause a complete U-turn in feedback. A checkbox that doesn't relate to gender or connect to any of the other questions in any way, and isn't particularly statistically useful based on the supplementary survey. It doesn't make the survey more inclusive, it just acknowledges that some participants are plural, and gives them a way to declare it.
Whether or not participants are plural is beyond the scope of the Gender Census, which aims to collect broad data about how we as nonbinary and otherwise genderly-interesting people want the world to see and describe us. It just doesn't make sense to include questions about plurality in future surveys. But I'm honestly amazed and a little confused, because until the "once per body" policy was added it seems that there wasn't actually anything about the Gender Census that prevented plural people from participating, at least not more than anyone else whose genders change significantly over time.
~
SHOULD "PLURAL THEY" BE ADDED TO THE CHECKBOX PRONOUN LIST?
This is something that participants often ask me to do in order to make the survey more plural-inclusive, so I decided to seriously consider it.
The first draft of the supplementary survey asked over 1,000 participants about this issue, but I had to scrap those responses and then redesign and restart it because, even though dictionaries are fairly clear on what exactly "singular they" is, a lot of survey participants who are not dictionaries seemed to be in disagreement (or confusion) about what singular they and plural they actually are. I have been unable to find any academic or reference articles online using the phrase "plural they" at all.
Here are some of the things people have told me recently:
"Singular they" is when you use "they" with singular verbs, e.g. they is a teacher.
I can't say that I use "singular they" pronouns because I always say "they are". "They is" just sounds wrong to me.
"Plural they" is when you use "singular they" pronouns to refer to a system/someone who is plural.
"Singular they" and "plural they" are grammatically identical except for the name.
"Singular they" and "plural they" are functionally the same and should be combined into one option called "they" in the annual survey.
Let's start by stating what we do know for sure.
~
THEY VS. SINGULAR THEY
For the record, "singular they" is defined by its purpose and context, not the specific words used.
Wiktionary says:
they (third-person, nominative case, usually plural, sometimes singular, objective case them, possessive their, possessive noun theirs, reflexive themselves, or, singular, themself)
It then goes on to specify three use-cases:
third-person plural, referring to two or more people
third-person singular, referring to one person
"indefinite pronoun" - people; some people; people in general; someone, excluding the speaker. E.g. "they didn’t have computers in the old days."
So we've got "they" (groups), "singular they" (individuals), and "indefinite they" (an "other" that is ambiguous in number).
Again, I have never found anything academic or, er, dictionarical (lexicographical?) that calls any of the forms "plural they", so my first job is to find out whether what Gender Census participants are calling "plural they" is the same as what the dictionary just calls "they", which is defined as the set used to refer to two or more people. For the purposes of this article I will call it regular "they".
~
WHICH WORDS MAKE UP SINGULAR THEY?
Even though most dictionaries will state which words make up singular they, and it's usually they/them/their/theirs/themself, if you change individual words within the set or even around the set it is still called "singular they" if it is used to refer to only one person. This might happen due to regional or cultural variations. So whether you say "they is a writer" or "they are a writer", whether you say "themself" or "themselves", if you're talking about only one person, it's still singular they.
In the annual survey, singular they is consistently chosen in the checkbox pronoun options by the most participants, usually more than twice as popular as the next most popular option. (I use the dictionary-provided set, and I've checked it's still the most commonly used in several polls and surveys along the way.) In the annual survey, singular they is presented as:
singular they - they/them/their/theirs/themself (e.g. "they are a writer")
~
WHICH WORDS MAKE UP PLURAL THEY?
I had never heard of "plural they" before people started asking me to add it to the checkbox list in the feedback box of the annual Gender Census survey, but it seemed clear from the name that it is meant to be contrasted with singular they, and I wondered if perhaps everyone else had been calling regular "they" (for referring to two or more people) "plural they" this entire time and I just hadn't noticed.
It was specifically presented to me by participants as a pronoun that a plural system could claim, and that a plural system might prefer over singular they. This tallied with my initial assumption that "plural they" may just be regular "they" referring to groups, since a system is a body containing two or more distinct individuals, so if they wanted to be referred to as a group then singular they would be inappropriate and regular "they" would fit.
I went to the pronouns spreadsheet of the 2021 Gender Census, and took every pronoun set that was named and copied it into a new spreadsheet. I ran a query to list all sets that contained both the words "plural" and "they" in the name field. There were 71 results, out of ~44,500 total responses. I ran another query to find out what these people were entering in the reflexive field, and here's what I got:
themselves - 61 (85.9%)
theirselves - 3
them - 2
themself - 2
themself (plural) - 2
theirself - 1
So I think it's safe to say that the set that people are calling "plural they" uses "themselves" as the reflexive, which is consistent with dictionaries' reporting of regular "they".
I conclude that most people do mean regular "they" when they refer to "plural they". "Plural they" seems to be they/them when used to refer to two or more people, including the plural reflexive "themselves".
As in "singular they", if you change individual words within the set or even around the set it is still called regular "they" if it is used to refer to two or more people. This might happen due to regional or cultural variations. So whether you say "they is writers" or "they are writers", whether you say "themself" or "themselves", if you're talking about two or more people, it's still regular "they" (or plural they).
~
IS PLURAL THEY GETTING SMUSHED INTO ANOTHER PRONOUN/GROUP?
I recently explored the (apparently unintentional) overlap of Spivak (e/em) and Elverson (ey/em). In case you've not read it, here's a brief overview: I found that it might be that Elverson (not on the checkbox list) is many times more popular than Spivak (on the checkbox list), even though it isn't being written into the pronouns textboxes often enough for it to reach the 1% threshold. Since the two sets are identical except for that one letter in the subject form, it is very likely that many of the people who use Elverson (ey/em) pronouns are choosing the Spivak checkbox option in the annual survey because they don't realise the spelling is different, or they think that they are minor spelling variants of the same set. I concluded that in order to get a fair count of both sets I will need to list both in the checkbox options next year, even though Elverson hasn't been typed in by over 1% of participants yet.
It's possible that the same thing is happening with singular and plural they. I ran a couple of Twitter polls, asking people whose pronouns are they/them which set they prefer, and presented answers like this:
a) Singular they, referring to only 1 person: they are themSELF
b) Singular they, referring to only 1 person: they are themSELVES
c) Plural they, referring to 2+ people: they are themSELVES
Here's the results, with 927 usable responses:
The results of this poll are really useful, because it allowed people to choose between singular and plural they AND themself and themselves, in combination. We can see that of the people who call their pronouns "singular they" (referring to only one person), the majority prefer "themself" as the reflexive, but a respectable proportion prefer singular they with "themselves", even when presented with the option of "plural they" (referring to two or more people).
(I have a policy of providing the most popular word choices in checkboxes, so I will continue to provide a they/them checkbox option that says "singular they - they/them/their/theirs/themself", but since singular they is consistently the most popular pronoun this is something I like to keep checking in on.)
If we apply these proportions to the 2021 Gender Census responses and imagine that everyone whose pronouns are they/them chose "singular they - they/them/their/theirs/themself" regardless of how accurate that is, this would mean that 3.7% of all respondents would check a "plural they" box, which is well above the 1% threshold for adding something to the checkbox list. Why not add it to the list, the way I'll also be adding Elverson to the list? This graph may help:
I generally consider it unwise to make big decisions based on Twitter polls, because the sample is much smaller and more biased than a standalone survey. Twitter requires membership, Twitter membership is skewed younger, and younger members are more likely to use Twitter often and see polls when they appear.
However, even I can't deny that there is a very clear mandate here for Elverson to be added to the checkbox list. When given a straight choice between the Spivak, Elverson, both, and neither/something else, participants were over six times more likely to choose Elverson over Spivak. (For context, Spivak got 4.3% in the 2021 Gender Census as a checkbox option.) Even if this poll were somehow put to the entire Gender Census participant group, it's hard to imagine a scenario where the results shift enough that Elverson gets a lower percentage than Spivak.
4.7% of a smaller sample of younger Twitter members just isn't enough to push me to add something to the checkbox options. I really hope that everyone whose pronouns are "plural they" takes the time to type it into next year's survey as a pronoun distinct from "singular they", so that if they do end up being over 1% of participants I can add "plural they" to the checkbox options.
~
IN CONCLUSION
As far as I can tell, the Gender Census doesn't particularly exclude plural participants. Systems are still able to take part, so it is at least as inclusive as any other survey of a similar nature, maybe even more so thanks to the ability to choose multiple gender identities and pronouns "per body".
There isn't sufficient evidence to support adding "plural they" to the list of checkbox pronouns at this time, and systems can be represented in results by typing any plural-inclusive terms and pronouns that are not on checkbox lists into some of the many textboxes provided, as any other participant would be expected to do.
The "once per body" participation policy is uncomfortable for a significant number of plural people. However, due to the intensely varied experiences of plural people, any policy on that issue that I impose would make some plural people uncomfortable - and it turns out that I chose the "side" that plural people are more likely to agree with. The survey isn't intending to collect or convey the more nuanced information that plural people (and others) have said that they would like to provide.
A separate question that specifically asks participants whether they're plural makes systems feel seen and acknowledged, but is beyond the scope of the project and doesn't add value to the data or analysis.
So, I will not be making any changes to the Gender Census at this time, based on the information I've gathered so far. However, I welcome further feedback in the plural participants' feedback form, which will remain open, anonymous and private.
~
Edit: Follow-up.
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Fear - Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader
Requested by: Anonymous (Thank you! ❤️)
Summary: Tommy and his second wife, Reader, an independent, successful business woman are living a fairly happy marriage until the reader finds out she's pregnant. Things take a wrong turn when their work life clashes with this news and in the end, the Reader takes a devastating decision. Without consulting her husband.
Warnings: Light angst , mentions of abortion, unplanned pregnancy
A/N: Not my best work, I'm so sorry if it wasn't that good.
Gif credit: @nofckingfighting , @thepeakyfookinblinderss ❤️
By the time you and Mr. Thomas Shelby were celebrating your first wedding anniversary, you were swimming in riches, riches not given to you by your husband in love, but gifted to yourself by you, as a part of self pampering. You had been your parent's only child, a girl, and this is how you had been brought up, extremely loved and pampered, but still carved out in a way to face the hardships like a man. While men and young boys left England to fight the war, which included your father, who never returned, you took it upon yourself to take over his business of running the pub he owned, which automatically fell to you after his death.
Soon, your twenty third birthday was upon you, and you found yourself going to Birmingham city for the first time, with the motive in mind to expand your business and open a pub in Birmingham city as well. But for doing that, you realized you needed a plot, and of course, you needed the Peaky Blinders backing you– because Birmingham City was a city of gangsters, latched to each other's throats, fighting their own internal wars and an independent business run by a woman would hardly grow in a city like this.
So, you'd done what any other person would have done in this city. You had met the leader of the Peaky Blinders, who you had no idea would be your husband just two months after that encounter, with the mind to strike a business deal with him.
Of course, you didn't get the plot you had your eyes on– he was not ready to sell it to you for any price that you named, but you did end up piking the gangster's sudden interest. It was only two days after the meeting you started unknowingly bumping into him at all the odd places– the supermarket, the theater and even outside the railway station when you were travelling to and from London.
Finally, giving in to your own secret temptations– it would have been a lie to say that his icy blue eyes did not haunt you at nights, when you were alone in your cold bed ; or that you didn't think twice about his cheekbones, or imagined his taut chiseled body underneath his ivory shirt– you finally agreed to go out with him. And it was amazing. Tommy Shelby courted you for two months until he finally propped the question of marriage.
You could feel Aunt Polly's piercing gaze on you, but you didn't look up from the file you were going through, doing your math in your head, your glasses pushed over the bridge of your nose.
"Jesus, (Y/N), when was the bloody last time you had anything to eat?"
Polly tapped her manicured fingers against your desk, loud enough to make you snap your head towards her. You almost shrug your shoulders incoherently.
"In the morning? I don't remember."
Polly's lips broke into a weak exhale, her hand reaching out and grabbing your file, pulling it away from you.
"What the fuck?" You protested, trying to take your file back but Polly had it securely held, tucked under her arm.
"Enough, love. I'm not going to bloody sit and watch you starve yourself."
"Pol, I'm really not hungry." You whined but let the older woman drag you along towards the dining room anyway because you really needed to stretch your legs.
You and Polly stepped into the dining room of the Arrowe House, sliding yourselves down on chairs next to each other. While you slowly nibbled on a loaf of bread, Polly sat comfortably, her back resting against the backrest of the chair, a lit cigarette in her hand, her eyes on you. You grabbed the cloth, wiping the remainder of your food from the corner of your lips when a loud gasp escaped your lips. You looked down to see Polly's hand groping at your breast, causing you to wince and slap her hand away.
"For fucks sake, Polly? That hurts!." You snapped at her, only to watch a smirk break out over the corner of her lips.
"Sore you say?"
"Its-Its nothing." You whispered, your face suddenly feeling flushed. It was not a surprise to you, for you had known it since a week. The midwife that lived in back in London, the one your mother often went to, before her death, had confirmed it for you. It had been a week of planning and plotting, worrying endlessly, and you had still not made up your mind whether you wanted to have a baby yet or not.
"Does my nephew know?"
You couldn't help but swallow the bile forming in your throat. You had no answer because you couldn't build up the courage to speak to Thomas about it. You wondered how he would react. Of course, he was just as busy with work as you were. You two had two very similar lives. You were two devoted people, devoted and swimming in work and business. You doubted if there was a place of a baby in either of your lives.
"I peg your silence for a no. Let me ask you this, love. When do you plan on telling him? This is indeed a good news."
You were snapped out of your thoughts when Polly spoke again. You drew a faint forced smile over your lips, a pathetic attempt to mask what you were feeling inside – emotional turmoil. As if on cue, Polly's warm palm took your hand in hers, her fingers clasping shut around yours.
"What's on your mind?"
You parted your lips, unsure of how and what you were going to say to her. How were you supposed to tell her that you didn't think that neither Tommy nor you, were perhaps, ready to be parents yet? Your mind was distracted and your hand unknowingly flew to your almost non existent bump, unconsciously stroking over it. Finally, with a finality in your eyes, you pushed your head up and gave Polly a stare down. You knew what you were thinking was the biggest sin in the eye of God, but somehow, it scared you, thinking how this baby's life would be if you actually decided to have it. You feared how this little life that you had created with Tommy would be subjected to a life neglected by the both of yous. Worst of all, you had this deep, lingering fear coiling deep within the pit of your heart, that maybe Tommy wouldn't want it. So before you could let your own heart shatter, hearing him say how he didn't care for the baby that was growing inside of you, how he would ask you to visit this woman who was an expert to deal with these kind of situations, you will confront him yourself and tell him that before he can say it to you.
"I just – I don't feel so well, Pol." You pursed your lips and lied blatantly to her.
• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •
Your eyes were fixed on the massive pendulum of the grandfather clock in the dining room, swinging sidewards, your palms nervously tapping against the surface of the dining table. You were waiting for your husband to return home because you couldn't delay speaking about this anymore to him. A part of you felt guilty for having kept this a secret from him from such a long time, after all, the baby was his as much as it was yours.
He had every right to know, even if you didn't want to keep it.
Your thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the front door opening. You waited a few minutes until a familiar silhouette approached the dining room, the footsteps getting louder and louder, probably owing to the fact that the lights were switched on. Tommy poked his head through the door and when his eyes fell on you, his eyes softened and he walked inside, towards you.
"Why aren't you in bed, love?"
You could see how tired your husband was, his eyes were droopy, dark bags crimson underneath his swollen eyelids, his face a paler shade. He never listened to you – he just worked and worked and worked, pushing beyond his capacities often, pulling in all nighters, mostly when you didn't even have a clue where he was or what he was doing. The truth was, it were all these reasons that made you feel not ready to be a mother, yet. What were you supposed to do alone? You didn't want to raise this child alone. Just having Tommy's name as his father but hardly ever getting to spend time with him, that scared you.
"I wanted to speak to you." There was a deep silence lingering in the room, only to be broken by the sound of your weak voice.
His lips parted in confusion, his usually calm ocean like eyes slightly widened. He gave you a shake of his head.
"Tommy, I –" You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat. Your heart was wildly hammering inside you chest and it felt like it was going to pop out any second. You took a step closer to him, nervously fiddling with your fingers.
"You want a divorce? Is that what this is?" Tommy's words caused you to take a sharp intake of breath.
"No! I – A divorce? No. I just – Tommy, I'm pregnant." You blurted out.
Tommy froze for a split second, only to finally relax in his posture and reach for his box of cigarettes while his eyes were fixed on you.
"Is it true? Are you really?"
His voice was neutral, you couldn't figure out if he was angry or ecstatic.
"I know Tommy, I know we are fucking busy people, and there's no room in our marriage for a baby. Which is why I'm going to go see that woman the next town, to you know–" Your eyes had watered up and your throat suddenly felt parched. You slowly turned to your side, your face now shielded from Tommy's views. You quickly brought up your sleeve to your eyes and wiped your tears.
"You want to go to that woman next town? To get rid of–" It was as though Thomas was repeating your words to himself, his index finger swaying in the air. Suddenly, he took a step closer to you and snatched the lit cigarette from your hand, bringing it up to his lips, casually. He looked so casual, how could you even know that a storm of rage was brewing up inside him.
"Should I not, Thomas? Are you ready for a baby? Are you then?"
A part of you wanted to hear him say yes, a small maternal side of you, that had already started to love that little foetus inside you deeply. That part of you wanted Thomas Fucking Shelby to stop you and tell you that you two could work through it, that he would make this work. A baby. He would love to have one with you.
"I think it would be for good. You should take Polly with you."
It would have been a lie to say that your heart didn't break at his words. Of course, he wasn't ready. You gave him a weak nod of your head and turned around, walking into your bedroom.
Three days passed and the tension between you and Tommy didn't wash away. He barely spoke to you twice in these three days– not that you had wanted him to– you were as mad as he was. With each passing day, your anxiety and your reluctance had grown. But finally, the day was here. Today, Polly was taking you to this woman the next town.
You and Polly sat at the back of the car, a young Blinder boy driving you to the the location. You couldn't bring yourself to meet her eyes at any cost, so you kept your eyes placed on the passing silhouettes of the old, greying buildings.
"Look at me, will you?" Polly's voice beckoned to you, forcing you to sharply turn your head towards you.
Her eyes were soft, you could see pale wrinkles under her eyes. Her warm palm took yours in hers and squeezed it.
"Us fucking women have been always forced to make difficult choices, love. You know I–" Her lips trembled, her eyes started growing moist. "– If I could bloody go back in time, I would stop myself from giving up on my children. I curse myself (Y/N), every night, even though Michael's here with me now, but I missed his childhood. I missed watching him grow. You know you don't have to do this."
You swallowed the lump in your throat and parted your lips, struggling to push words out of your mouth, to vent out how you really felt, so you lied.
"Polly, we are not ready to be parents. The life we live, as long as it's just me and Tommy, it doesn't worry me. But bringing a child into this world of crime, of death, it would be wrong of me to be so fucking selfish."
"And isn't it selfish of you to deny your baby the chance to choose his own life?"
It felt as though someone had wrapped his palms around your neck and blocked out your oxygen supply. Lucky enough, the car came to a halt and the Blinder boy turned towards you, his eyes drawn to Polly as he informed that you were here. Polly nodded and stepped out, you following.
The street was quiet and lonely, with not many souls in view, unlike the bustling streets of Small Heath. The woman's house was the corner most so you and Polly, wrapping your coats tighter against your bodies to shield yourselves of the chilly wind, walked along until you both were standing against an old looking door with a massive lock on it.
"What the fuck?" You cursed, frowning. "Are we at the right address?"
Polly nodded and shrugged, pulling out her box of cigarettes.
"Of course we are, this is where she lived. Wait, I'll ask the neighbours."
You kept standing there, underneath the porch as Polly walked up to the house next door, her heels clicking against the gravelled floor. You saw her talk to a woman with greying hair, their eyes momentarily turning and fixing on you, making you feel uneasy. Soon, the woman had shut the door and Polly was making her way back to you. You could see that there was a faint smirk ploying across her face.
"Well, seems like your husband was here."
"What? Tommy?" Your eyebrows perked up.
She hummed and nodded, her hand mechanically moving up and her cigarette pressed to her lips.
"The woman said that the Peaky Fucking Blinders paid the woman a visit, and ever since, the woman's gone."
It all made sense now. Of course, Thomas Fucking Shelby. You wondered if he had killed the woman, or just threatened her enough to run away.
"Do you know anyone else?"
"Unfortunately not, but I will see what we can do. For now let's just go back love."
• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •
You were fuming.
To say the least, your cheeks felt like they were on fire.
Three days.
Tommy hadn't looked you in the eye.
But today you wanted to confront him.
Ask him the reason why he was interfering in women's business.
So you were waiting. Sitting on the loveseat in your shared bedroom with Thomas Shelby, tapping your fingers against your thighs. It was almost midnight when the door to your bedroom finally opened and Thomas walked in, as usual his cigarette held in his fingers. He had probably hoped to find you in bed , sleeping but when he saw the empty bed, his head sharply turned towards you at first before he forced himself to ignore you and move towards the closet to grab his t-shirt and his boxer shorts.
"Where is that woman Tommy?"
You saw him stiffen for a second before turning around and raising his eyes, until his blue eyes were fixed on yours.
"London, Bristol, I don't care where the fuck she went."
You stood up, walking up to him until you were standing in front of him.
"Why Tommy? What the fuck?"
"Why. Why? WHY? If you can decide and fucking come to a conclusion without even letting me know, why can't I eh?" He screamed, causing you to flinch and step back, still furious.
"This isn't fair Thomas, this fucking isn't fair. These are our matters."
Tommy suddenly grabbed you by your arms, his nails almost digging into your flesh as he almost shook you.
"What did you expect me to do? To just let you go and end what we had created?"
Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes filling up with water.
"You said you didn't care." Your words came out a mere whisper and your body felt like jelly, almost ready to melt into his arms.
"Of course, I fucking care. Is that what you fucking think about me? For fucks sake, I - I know I might not be a good father, I might even fucking be like my own father but that doesn't mean I want you to fucking go and end what we created." Tears were brimming in your eyes and when you blinked, they spilled out, warm salty water rolling down your cheek, a faint smile breaking out on your lips. Tommy's expressions softened and he found his palm reaching for your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek, over your tears. "Why did it even cross your mind? The fucking thought of doing what you were going to do."
You closed your eyes for a brief second and fluttered them open again, leaning into his touch.
"How can we be good parents Tommy if we have a life of our own? Where you can't stop risking your life everyday and I'm not even sure if I would fucking see you again?"
Tommy looked like he could kill you. He had a burning red rage lingering in his eyes but yet, he had a soft look on his face, a look that was only reserved for you. He slowly let go off your arms, looking down at your stomach for a quick second and then back up.
"That child deserves to be allowed to live as much as you or I did, (Y/N). I don't care if I have to change my lifestyle. I don't care if I have to give up on some things that I did before this. I want this child, love. I want this. With you."
A small smile broke out against your lips, but as soon as it had broken out, it washed off again, when the realization hit you.
"Tommy, it's not easy. It's a lifetime commitment. From you. From me. It means keeping our baby safe from whatever it is that could potentially harm it."
His warm palms grabbed your cheeks, pulling your face upwards to meet his gaze.
"I promise you love, no one would lay a fucking finger on you or our baby and live."
You knew what he meant was true – every single word of it – and you didn't doubt on what Thomas Fucking Shelby could do for his family. This scared you a little but you closed your eyes, telling yourself to trust on the man that loved you, and who loved the baby growing inside of you, he would never let any harm come to you or your baby.
[ Tagging list : @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theamuz ]
#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders
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Hi. Off topic, but: someone on twitter said Mihoyo hates women, comparing Ganyu's trailer and Xiao's. That Xiao's trailer was "badass" and most they talked about Ganyu in her trailer was about her sleep habit. Ganyu is half adeptus while Xiao is an adeptus, kinda like a mythical powerful creature in Genshin's world, so she should be depicted as such too (powerful), but apparently since "Mihoyo hates women" they didn't show her badass side, and not only that, they couldn't give her a meaningful, deep trailer.
I couldn't stop thinking about Honkai, and that I think her statement isn't true. Right, Genshin is not Honkai. But if Mihoyo hates women, it'd be shown in all their games, wouldn't it?
In my opinion, there's a certain amount of fan service, something that I dislike in both games, and there's things they could do better when representing women, but still, to say that they hate women? Because a character trait is emphasized, does not mean that it is the only trait of the character...
Her tweet has more than 1,5K of likes. So many people agree with that?
I feel out of place, "defending" Mihoyo, a company that creates wonderful games, but at the end of the day it is still a company that wants your money...
So, in general: I think criticism is valid and it's good so Mihoyo can become a better company, I just don't agree with her opinion and wanted to see other point of view, when comparing Mihoyo's other games.
In your opinion, when having Honkai girls in your mind, is it true that Mihoyo hates women?
Firstly I’d like to say this.
Rather than be the Purity Police expecting perfection and constantly being disappointed or infuriated, I can recognize that something has plenty of flaws, but still has other merits and enjoy it. You can think parts of something are bad but still enjoy the whole.
To actually get started.
It’s hard to say anything about mihoyo as a whole because there are many teams at the company. The Honkai team, GGZ team, Genshin team, AI research group, that first-person shooter in development, their otome game, and other projects I’m sure I don’t know about.
I can only give my opinion based on my experience with Honkai Impact because I only played a few hours of GGZ and Genshin and just didn’t like the gameplay.
As for my take on that Genshin statement of hating women. I think it’s only a problem if it’s consistently happening to every female character. If they only advertised men as badass and then women on other traits that would probably be showing some favoritism for their male characters, or sexism rather if they showed the women as incapable of the same things as the men. There’s nothing wrong with advertising a character on their different traits I don’t think. You can’t advertise every character as being the most badass, that’d get boring.
But I don’t think I know enough about what happens in the Genshin community or Genshin itself to comment on what happens over there.
But I do know a lot about Honkai Impact and the Honkai community here, I’ve lurked on Reddit, seen plenty of youtube, and spent one terrifying moment on Amino.
So at the beginning (of Honkai), there was a lot of bad fanservice-y stuff that I really didn’t like, we could go on but I’ll just show you these pre-release Mei designs.
In-game on the left, pre-release on the right.
In short, it wasn’t good. But they changed them so I can commend them for that, but these images are representative of some of the stuff that was in the game earlier. I am split on how if you touched the characters in inappropriate places on the bridge they’d kill you and log you out of the game. It is funny but probably not something that should’ve existed in the first place.
So there were definitely some bad approaches they took to the characters, but over time this started to change and I’m not sure what happened. I’m guessing that they really came to love and respect their characters as people rather than caricatures they could sell?
Don’t get me wrong, they are still trying to sell you something but it seems like ever since Honkai Impact began they’ve done so much better over time portraying women in their media as characters and selling the story they are part and the people they are of rather than selling you on fanservice of their boobs or other such silliness.
Sure outfits may be revealing still but they make sense and are overall super cool. They make the characters look amazing/powerful/beautiful without shoving them out of character or reducing them to sex objects. For example, the Herrscher of Thunder battlesuit is revealing, no arguing that, but it makes her look so powerful and awesome.
There are still bad ones, they aren’t perfect and their target demographic is people who are really into anime so sometimes nonsense sells. Looking at you, HoT outfits and Succubus outfits.
Even a character like Himeko or Rita isn’t out of character when she has mostly revealing outfits because it can come down to whether she is being sexy vs being made a sexual object. And sometimes they do cross that blurry line into “haha anime titties pls buy”.
The comics are a great example of their improvement, the first volume has a ridiculous amount of inappropriate angles with panty-shots and and idiot focus on boobs. You look at recent manga, esp after they switched the artstyle/artists there is none of that.
This wasn’t asked about but I’d like to discuss it too, the wlw representation in Honkai Impact is fantastic even working in the restraints of CN gov’t censorship. I don’t care if they meant for it to be or if they’re just trying to get my money, these characters feeling like people in love, for better and for worse, in healthy and unhealthy relationships. These aren’t stories about lesbians coming out or how hard it can be to be queer. These women are just in love and they explore the dynamics of that love just as they would for any straight characters. But my girlfriend wrote a much better post about this subject so I’ll link that if you want to read more.
I’m not sure if I worded this exactly how I wanted to but
I can’t speak for Genshin Impact but really believe the Honkai team at mihoyo at least loves and respects the women they write in their stories.
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