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ckbookish · 4 years

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BATMAN BINGO MASTER POST 2020

1 "I thought you were dead.": I Still See Your Ghost

Today was just not Dick's day. First he overslept his alarm and was late to work. Amy had been less than impressed at his tardiness... Then He had bungled what should have been an easy take town... But the straw that broke the camel's back was Tim. Dick had forgotten to call Tim.

2 Friendly fire: Fratricide

Jason was pissed. No, Jason was enraged. Yeah, he was enraged at the whole mess his family-- if that’s even what they were to each other anymore-- had gotten him in. It was meant to be a simple night. Break in. Torch the drugs. Maybe shoot a couple of people and go home. But no, Batman heard about his plans and decided that arson was too extreme. “Someone could get hurt.” Well someone had gotten hurt, a lot of someones.

3 Hypothermia: Weekend Commute

Dick Grayson makes his way home during the first snow fall of the year, when he finds himself confused and cold, miles from home.

Chapter two Bruce's perspective.

4 Superman: Bringer of the Dawn

The Aftermath of when the Joker shoots Dick.

Where do you go when your family tells you to get out?

5 Shot: The Gratitude Trap

Bruce finds himself in the dark, a place he never thought he would be when it came to Clark Kent and Dick Grayson. Yet here he is digging for answers, because he is too scared to pick up the phone and call.

6 Two-face: The Better Choice

How do you reconcile the man who was once your friend with the monster he has become? Bruce reflects on how the man he once called his best friend changed. How could the man who helped him foster Dick, hold that baseball bat?

7 Drowning: Omori’s Law

Deep in the sewer's under Gotham, Batman is trapped. There is no back up, no Robin. He is faced with the single truth that he tried to teach each of his partners... You have to save yourself.

8 Found Family: A Restoration from a Resilient Heart

Dick just wants to not be alone with the shadows in the house. Bruce doesn't realize he has lived with them for far to long, and maybe he doesn't have to anymore.

9 Adoption: The Irrefutable Truth

When he reached the reception, he found himself looking around a fairly empty room. There were a few call girls in the corner filling out forms, an older woman holding a dog, a kid that looked about twelve and a middle aged man who looked like he was ready to cry. He knew no one. Dick was about to turn around and head back to his desk when the on duty officer called out to him. Officer O’Conner was one of his fellow rookies, he had a thick accent. Dick thought he might be from Louisiana. “Grayson! Why didn’t you say your brother was coming to see you?” Dick looked at him with his mouth slightly open. There was no way he heard that right. “My what?”

10 Bruises: Mr. Wayne

Tim is new to this. He's only been Robin for a little over six months. It was going well. But now he was going to be fired. Batman wouldn't want a partner who got caught at school with a black eye. Would he?

11 Bruce is dead: You Have One Saved Message

Gotham gossip columns spread lies and smear good people's names. But yet Damian can't help but think maybe this mornings article was true. That despite all his claims of being the true son of Bruce Wayne, he was in fact the only unwanted one.

12 CPR: Vital Signs

Robin wakes to find him and Batman in an exploded factory. With Batman injured and the building burning around them, Dick struggles to get them both to safety.

13 Dad: Storge

Bruce could have sworn his spirit had left him momentarily. The sudden hollowness that filled him couldn’t be explained in any other way.

“Your dad must have his hands full with you.” Elizabeth Ribbons leaned forward and patted Dick’s shoulder, as he reached for yet another slice of cheesecake from a passing waiter’s tray.

Bruce fixed his eyes on the ice sculpture that hid him from view. It suddenly seemed like the most interesting design in the world. The soft lines of the ice on the otherwise insignificant over sized swan seemed like a lead shield... Because Dick would read it easily in his expression. He wanted to be Dick’s dad. But he wasn’t.

14 Stealing the Batmobile: T-Minus Six Hours

Some days Tim is sure that he’s gonna be killed. Usually it’s some luck shot or near miss that made his life flash before his eyes. Not today though. Today he was positive Bruce was going to kill him. Yes, today was the day that Timothy Jackson Drake was going to be put down. He’s not sure that even Nightwing could save him. He was going to go down in history as the first sidekick to be murdered by their mentor. Because the Batmobile was definitely not where he’d parked it.

15 Wayne Enterprises: Amidst the Absence of Meaning

Bruce is worried. He's running on less than three hours of sleep, and way too many cups of coffee. He had messed up. That much was obvious. The question was would Dick forgive him?

A gruesome night on patrol bleeds into Bruce's work day and now all he can wonder is if this is the thing that will push Dick over the edge? Had he finally seen to much pain?

16 Ransom: Sum of My Worth

The ring of the phone seemed to echo through the manor’s still too quiet long, winding halls, and everyone present collectively held their breath. Bruce lunged for the phone.

17 Secret Injury: Hiding in Pain Sight

“What?” Dick asked sharper than he meant to. He was tired.

“Nothing.” Tim said with a small smirk. “Heavy is the head.”

Dick closed his eyes, glad that Tim couldn’t see them. He was so sick of this. Tim, Jason, Damian and Cass all didn’t think he was good enough, well Cass hadn’t said that, but Dick could read her. They didn’t think he was up to the job. Well they didn’t need to tell him that. He knew it.

18 Superboy: An Interlude in Breathing

Tim looked out over the water in a daze. Bruce and Dick had gone somewhere below deck and he was alone. Well there were strangers on the ship mingling and talking excitedly--but Tim gave them no notice. Instead he watched the water lap up against the hull and crash down back to meet the dark, cold waters. They were far enough out that he could no longer see the shore. It was just endless expenses of sea and sky. Something tickled his neck and he started, only to realize he had been crying. It was only a tear slipping under his collar.

The days after the battle of Infinite Crisis

19 Betrayed: Smother

She took another drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke roll in her lungs for a long moment before allowing it hiss out between her teeth. The screams from the warehouse weren’t completely muffled by the distance, or the walls. Perhaps she was only imagining them. But then, sounds like that, she didn’t think she could dream up. She jumped after a particularly high pitched yelp. “Get a grip.” She dropped the cigarette and pulled out another. Her hand shook as she lit it. “It’s just some random kid. He’s not--” She bit back a sob. She didn’t deserve to cry. She had no right to tears, not when it was her fault.

20 Crowbar: Breaklights

The mail fell to the ground and the paper smacked the tiles hard. The sound in reality couldn’t have been all that loud, but it seemed to echo around the entryway. Bruce didn’t look at the dropped bills and the invitation to a fundraiser for the new Gotham women’s shelter. He was too fixated on the small stamp with the queen of England's head on it. Wolverhampton.

The large envelope was far heavier then it should have been. Bruce could feel bile crawling up his throat.

He had forgotten.

21 Deathstroke: Debts and Dues

There were some things that were never pleasant, getting caught in the snow without socks, losing your keys, and not being able to remember the name of a song. Having a gun pointed at your chest, Dick felt, qualified as extremely unpleasant. He stood stock still. The barrel of the gun was still hot, it burned slightly as it dug into his sternum. Even with his uniform he could still feel the heat left over from previous rounds fired. He didn’t flinch. He couldn’t flinch. “Move.” “You know I can’t.” Dick wondered if Slade had the guts to do it.

22 Mission Gone Wrong: Murmur in the Quiet Hours

Superman? Clark froze. He knew that voice. But-- he had never heard it sounding so sad. Was that-- no. Clark dove for his phone, still on the counter from when he got home last night. The screen was black. Dead. Clark swore and dropped it. He was in his coat and shoes before it hit the counter top.

23 Kidnapped: Chum

Dick trumped through the leaves, stopping his feet roughly. He relished the sound of the crunch beneath his shoes as he tread on the brown, dead leaves before him. He felt rather justified in his satisfaction. After all the world had taken so much from him, why wouldn’t he do his best to crush it in return. The woods were cool and as he went deeper into them they grew darker. The sun had long set, and the sky was quickly vanishing as the trees grew thicker. Wayne Manor was far behind him. He was never going back. He hated those pristine walls, those old floor boards. He hated the quiet. He hated the stuffy furniture and the rules and the vases and pictures. He hated his new guardian and that… that… Dick couldn’t remember what Alfred was called, but he hated it. The bag on his back felt heavy. It had everything Dick owned in it. Well and a toothbrush that Alfred had given him. But he didn’t think that was really stealing.

24 Riddler: Seeking Silence on Shortwaves

Normally Dick would be happy to listen to Tim talk. In fact, Dick thought it was one of his favorite sounds in the world. Tim rarely allowed himself to be excited about things. Hearing him speak so freely and openly to Bruce and him about his plans was refreshing. Dick only wished it wouldn’t be at the cost of his life.

Batman hadn't always been so strict about talking unnecessarily over comms. When it was just two of them it hadn't mattered, their walkie talkie system had always worked. But now that Nightwing and Robin were in Gotham, it seems insane that they never realized: if only one person can talk over the radio at a time... how could they call for help?

25 Mr. Freeze: Glimpsing the Sun While Trapped in the Rime

He almost called Bruce between his fourth and fifth class. He pulled his phone out, leaning against his locker, and half dialed his number when a warm hand fell on his shoulder. “Hey.” Dick spun around and blinked back black spots as his body protested the sudden movement. A blaze of red hair filled his vision and Dick felt a small fire build in his chest. His face split into a wide smile.

After a run in with Mr. Freeze Dick finds himself feeling odd at school, but he can't go home, not when Barbara's asked him to drive her to Betty's party after school.

#batman bingo 2020 #Master Post #Batman #CK Writes #Nightwing #Dick Grayson #tim drake #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Red Hood #Red Robin #robin #My Writing

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 16 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader is trying to go back to her old life, which includes the life she led before she met Spencer. Category: Angst. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader Content Warning: Drug mention, addiction, jealousy, arguing, death mention Word Count: 9.3k

MASTERLIST

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“Don’t wear that tie, wear the other one.”

Spencer turned to look at me curiously, his little grin the first signal that he saw right through me. “Why?” He asked, taking off the tie he’d only just finished putting on to swap it for the other one hanging in my closet.

It’d been a week since Spencer all but moved into my room, refusing to leave my side for even a second longer than necessary. Aside from the freshly healing bullet wounds, it had been one of the best weeks of my life.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, trying and failing to hide my smile. “I just wanted to watch you take it off.”

My boyfriend pointed an accusing finger at me as he approached the bed, using it to poke my nose before retreating. “You, my dear, are a troublemaker. I’m going to be late.”

It was hard to believe that life could resume so quickly for everyone else when it felt like I was still on my knees on the cold tile floor of the bank. I tried not to think about it, acutely aware of the terrible things that could happen when PTSD was left unchecked.

I wanted to think about nice things, instead. Like how cute my boyfriend was, acting like it was my fault he’d be late while he took his time tying his tie over and over again. He’d say it was because it wasn’t perfect, but we both knew he didn’t care about that. He just didn’t want to leave yet.

“If you’re going to be late Dr. Reid, it’s because you refused to get out of bed until I gave you a kiss for every hour you’ll be gone today.” I reminded him, joy filling my chest at the small combination of a smile and a pout I received in response.

“You still owe me two.”

“Do I?” I responded, reaching out to grab his hand and pull him back to my place on the bed. “Then please, let me remedy that.”

Not wanting me to move any more than I already had, he quickly came down to place a chaste kiss on my lips. But I didn’t let it end there, holding onto the newly secured tie and tugging him closer.

Now it might be my fault, I thought, but I didn’t care. With one hand on the bed to steady himself and the other carefully caressing my cheek, he put all of his love into one little kiss. I felt like I was going to explode with the pent up desire that had accompanied being with him for so long without being able to show him how much I loved him in a physical way.

He insisted that he didn’t need sex, that it didn’t matter to him, but it mattered to me! I didn’t have a way with words like he did, and while he was content with curling up by my side, it left me wanting more.

The doctor kept telling me it would be soon, that the time will have passed quickly in hindsight. I didn’t understand half of what he said— he was just trying to get me to accept the narcotics in hopes that I wouldn’t end up back in his hospital.

I was doing it again. I was thinking about things I didn’t need to think about instead of the way Spencer bit down on my bottom lip when he paused to let me breathe. The smell of his cologne filled my lungs and I remembered how much I used to miss it. I’d stopped appreciating it when it was around me all the time.

It wasn’t until his phone rang that he left completely, tearing himself away from me like he wouldn’t be able to stop himself any other way.

“Hello?”

There were only a few reasons they would be calling him right now, and I didn’t like any of them.

“Oh… Alright.”

It was that exact tone, that terrified, pitiful grumble that told me what I needed to know. He had to go somewhere, and he wouldn’t be back today. He’d retreated from me, turning his back to me like I wouldn’t be able to tell what was happening just because I couldn’t see his face.

His voice was hushed. “Hotch, are you sure that I…”

The hopelessness hurt. I wanted him to go back to work; I knew he needed to. But it was so hard to let him go.

“Understood. I’ll be there soon.”

“How many more kisses do I owe you now?” I asked with a nervous laugh, fiddling with the sheets between my fingers.

“I don’t know.”

“Uh oh. I don’t like that voice.” I tried to keep my tone playful, but it wasn’t enough.

“I have to travel.”

The fact that he wasn’t looking at me made me more anxious than the fact he was now grabbing all the clothes he had in the closet and dropping them in the suitcase.

“Where to?”

Spencer paused, staring at the floor so that he could see me from his peripherals. He was torturing himself by forcing himself to see my reaction, but he wasn’t strong enough to look directly at me.

“Alaska.”

“Oh... wow.” I didn’t know how to respond, my body freezing as I tried to conceptualize just how far away that was. Far enough away that in maps of the United States, they had a separate area designated for it since it couldn’t fit.

It was too far, that’s all I knew.

“Hey, that’s fine! I can still call you.” My voice sounded foreign and the hopefulness was poorly performed. I wasn’t sure calling would be enough, but it apparently didn’t even matter.

“Not really. They don’t have service out there. Garcia is coming with us.” His packing got angrier, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from me.

“It’ll be fine, Spencer.”

His hands, unable to find any more clothing to grab, found purchase in his hair instead, running through them roughly. “What if something happens?” He asked as he finally turned to face me with a seriousness that was unbecoming.

“Nothing is going to happen. I have tons of friends who can help me. I’m just going to be sitting here on my ass all day watching bad TV.”

I gestured to the television that my friends had been nice enough to set up in my room, sighing as Spencer sulked in the other corner. It took a few waves of the hand, but eventually he dragged himself back to my side. Opening my arms to him, I took him in when his head dropped against my shoulder once more.

“I-I’m not ready to leave you yet.” The vulnerability shook in his voice, and I could feel the insistence in his grip denting my pillow.

“Well, too bad, superman.” I teased, pulling him away enough that I could show him my smile, hoping that it would be enough to calm his mounting fears. “You’ve got lives to save.”

He looked at me, his eyes still welling with tears despite the smile he now wore. He took my hand and heldit against his cheek. He closed his eyes; taking a deep breath, he mumbled, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me fall more in love with you every single day.”

I had to laugh, and I cursed him for it. It hurt so badly to laugh still, but the look on his face was worth it. No matter what, Spencer Reid had to be a romantic, and I loved him for it. It was so very much unlike me.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now, old man.” I chastised him lightly, “You’re going to be late.”

He wasn’t done yet, though, that protective glimmer in his eyes returning with a vengeance. He held tighter to my hand and bit his lip.

“Promise me you’ll be safe. Don’t do anything you aren’t supposed to. Please.”

It sounded like a beg, a desperation that I wasn’t used to. Up until now, it always felt like I was the one who was seeking more information and assurance. But now he sat before me, practically broken at the thought of not seeing me for a few days, pleading for me to take my own life seriously.

I hated the attention, but couldn’t tell him that. He wouldn’t understand; it would only make him worry more.

“I promise.”

He didn’t believe me, but he accepted my answer, anyway. Lunging forward, his lips crashed into mine without any reservations. I laughed into the kiss, tangling my hands in his hair so that he’d have to fix it again before he could leave me.

It was only funny until I remembered how long it might be until I see him again. I held onto him, deepening the kiss just to drag it out. He was also looking for an excuse, still refusing to part all the way when our lungs had nothing left.

“I love you… so much.” He whispered, resting his forehead against mine for a moment longer.

“I love you, too.”

I’d said it so many times in the past few weeks, but the words still felt new on my tongue. I wanted to say them more, to shower him in my affection, but I didn’t know how. Love was just another language he was fluent in, and I decidedly wasn’t. All I could do was wait for him to translate the thoughts to me whenever I got lost.

“I’m going to try to set up something so I can talk to you, okay? I can’t promise it’ll work but I’m going to try. You remember what I said about the last time I couldn’t reach you.”

Memories of papers scattered on the floor ran through my mind. I could practically feel his hand wrapped around my neck for the first time, holding my life in his hand because I’d trusted him to keep me safe. The vision of waking up in his bed, only to have him lower himself below the sheets, pressing kisses down my stomach.

Things had been so different then. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Those thoughts were suffocating and overwhelming and painful, and I shoved them back into the deepest recesses of my mind. It was too early to be emotional.

I took a deep breath, patting Spencer’s cheek with a soft palm before I summoned all the sarcasm I could in my voice. “I’ll always be with you in your heart,” I joked, smiling as he cringed at the sound.

“I mean it, little girl. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re in for it when I get back.”

Feigning shock and a gasp, I brought my hand to my chest just in time for him to step away from me. The absence of him was colder than it should have been. At least he appeared to be in better spirits, and I wanted to keep it going.

“Dr. Reid, has that ever worked to make me not do something?”

Spencer shook his head with a chuckle, grabbing the rest of his things with more pep in his step. The closer he got to the door, the harder my heart beat. It was deafening and mind numbing in its volume.

Was this how love was supposed to feel? Or had I just grown so spoiled and accustomed to him being here, that I was being entirely selfish? I would no doubt have days to think about it.

He returned to me one more time, running his hand gently through my hair and granting me one more soft, serene kiss in the pale morning light.

“Take care of yourself.” He whispered, the begging bleeding back into his voice. “For me.”

“I will.” I promised before closing my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see him leave. I still heard him hesitate at the door, and I felt his eyes linger on me for a few seconds longer. But then the door clicked shut, and I was alone again.

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Nine days. I’d been gone for nine days. It might as well have been a lifetime, because that’s exactly what it felt like. Even worse, I was only able to call (y/n) a whopping three times, each one shorter than the last. We’d only talked for a total of 14 minutes and 29 seconds. And considering that nine days is 12960 minutes, that’s a pretty abysmal fraction.

But it didn’t matter, because as soon as that stupid jet landed in Virginia, I was on my way back to her. Thankfully it was still a normal hour and the sun was still out, albeit quickly setting.

She wasn’t answering my calls, and I tried not to think too much of it. During our last call, she’d told me that she started a new medication that made her sleepy. In fact, our conversation had been so short in part because she fell asleep halfway through the call.

I didn’t mind though, listening to the soft sound of her breathing until the signal went dead again. I’d played the audio over and over again in my head to help me sleep that night, knowing that she was hours away but still dreaming with me.

I was so ready to see her again, that I’d barely knocked on her door before the keys were already in the knob. I didn’t want to wait, I didn’t want to spend another second longer than necessary before I could see her.

But before I could turn the handle, the door swung open and away from my hand.

There were a few people I’d expected to see; (y/n), her roommate, or possibly one of the other female friends the girls had mentioned that I’d yet to see. Unfortunately, it was the one face that hadn’t ever crossed my mind that appeared.

On the other side of the threshold was the man I’d only seen in pictures. To be more specific, one picture, months ago, sent to me from (y/n)’s phone in an attempt to keep her from answering my call.

I recognized him immediately, but realized I’d never actually heard his name.

We stood there for a long time, staring at the other with the utmost hostility in our eyes and postures. I hated the fact that I felt the need to compete with him, but found myself acting out of instinct. I just hoped that he wasn’t as smart or perceptive as her, and wouldn’t notice the insecurity and jealousy that immediately emerged.

“So you must be the cop.” He drawled, leaning against the doorframe to prevent my entry. The action alone pissed me off, but I bit my tongue in the hopes I could deescalate the situation, despite how much I didn’t want to. There were many things I wanted to say to him, but only a few words came out.

“I’m not a cop.”

“Yeah, she said you’d say that.” He chuckled, rubbing his chin as he recalled a memory of her. I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.

“That makes sense. It shouldn’t be a surprise, considering it’s not my job.” I stated matter-of-factly, trying to remind myself that the two of them were friends. She’d known him for a long time, and he probably felt just as possessive of her as I did.

The only difference was that I had a reason to believe she was mine.

“Let me guess, your sense of humor is her favorite trait.” The sarcasm dripped from his tongue. Normally I’d say that was my role, but right now all that I had to spit back was venom.

Retrieving my key from the door, I contemplated barreling past him to get to her quicker, but realized he was probably hoping to provoke that exact kind of reaction.

“You’re funny.” My face steeled and my fists clenched in my pockets, I peered around his head to the empty hallway behind him. “Where is she?”

“Sleeping.” That stupid smirk was back, his eyes trailing after my every movement, waiting for me to snap. When I didn’t, he escalated his antics further.

“I was about to go join her.” He said, licking his lips and standing up in an attempt to match my height.

But it wasn’t size or age that distinguished the two of us. It was our priorities. Because while he was here, trying to prove himself to me, all I could see was a young boy standing in the way of me seeing her again.

“No need. I’m here now.” I took a step forward, unsurprised to find that he didn’t immediately move out of my way.

He narrowed his eyes, grasping at straws to try and prolong this interaction. I couldn’t understand why, really. He couldn’t honestly believe I’d try to start a fight with him or leave, could he?

“Does she know you were planning on coming by?”

“Why does it matter to you?” I responded with a bored tone, staring him down until I saw his stance falter. It wouldn’t take much longer of this standoff for him to finally recede far enough into the apartment that I could just ignore him.

“Just wondering.” He mumbled, finally taking a step backwards and to the side so that I could enter. He shut the door behind me, but clearly wasn’t done with the conversation.

“Figured she wouldn’t have asked me to come spend the night with her if she knew you were coming. So she must not have expected for you to show up.”

I turned around to face him, knowing that I was playing into his games but unable to resist the temptation.

“She told me you got jealous last time. I would hate for you two to fight again if you found us in bed together. That would be so upsetting for her.”

“Well, you’re off the hook. No miscommunication. No worries at all.” It was times like these that I was grateful for my training, because it was the only thing keeping me from lunging at the boy and slamming him against the wall. I knew he could see it in my eyes.

He clearly had an idea of me in his head, one that was honestly probably pretty accurate. He wanted me to lose control and show that side of me, to prove that he was the better man. But he wasn’t. He’d had several years with her now to prove himself, and she’d still chosen me.

She chose me— that’s all I needed to remember.

“What if I want to stay?” He teased.

“We’ll let her decide.”

That was the first thing I’d said that struck a nerve in him. He resumed his previous stance with his back straight and arms crossed over his chest. “You’re a bit full of yourself for a dude who’s never here.” He spat, puffing his chest. The longer the bravado continued, the less intimidating it became. “You barely even know her.”

I was transported back to when (y/n) and I first started dating, when Morgan had accused me of the very same thing over lunch. My heart wrenched in my chest, because so much of me knew that it was still true.

She’d only just started to share information with me about her past, and still she spoke in vague generalities and half-thoughts. There was so much she hid from me, and I just… let her. I let her hide from me because I was scared that if I pressed her, she would leave.

At least, that’s what I’d thought. But each time someone pointed out how little I knew her, I was forced to consider the possibility that she was keeping me away for a deeper reason.

“I know all the parts of her that she doesn’t want to show you.” He taunted, sensing my anxieties that were clearly written across my face.

“Are you done? I’d like to go see her now.”

He didn’t respond, shaking his head. But I only got a few steps before I heard his voice again, this time louder and angrier.

“Doesn’t it bother you? Knowing that I’m here, in bed with your girlfriend while you’re on the opposite side of the country, not even answering her calls?” He remained rooted in his position at the end of the hall.

I lost the battle of keeping my eyes on her door, ripping them away so that I could turn to face him. My breathing got heavy and my hands finally left my pockets. “No, it doesn’t bother me,” I said, my voice falling quieter instead of growing, “You want to know why?”

The grimace on his face was the only answer I needed. I brought a finger to my own chest, not trusting myself to touch him. I barely knew this guy, and I wasn’t about to start a fight with one of (y/n)’s oldest friends to prove my manhood, especially if that was exactly what he wanted.

“I’m not worried because I trust her.” I practically whispered to him, “And even if I had some reason not to, I’m not intimidated by you.”

A fire appeared in his eyes, the desire to bite back stifled by the knowledge that there was nothing he could say to make me doubt her. He’d already tried and failed every time so far.

“I don’t care what parts of her you think I haven’t seen. Because I get to have the parts of her you wish you could. And she gave them to me willingly and without regret. Over and over again.”

There was so much more I wanted to say, but I was thankfully cut off by the hoarse, familiar voice in the backroom.

“Spencer?” She called, groggy yet excited. There was no way she could hear me from the room, which told me that she’d probably just woken up to my texts and hoped I was here. It told us both that when she woke up, the first person she thought to call was me.

“Yeah.” I said, a soft, genuine smile crossing my cheeks at the thought of her. “Like I said… I’m not worried.”

He didn’t follow me then, staying in the hallway to stew in his anger over the fact that this hadn’t gone at all how he’d planned. But I couldn’t think about him any longer, because as soon as I turned into her room, my heart melted.

She was sprawled out on her bed, hugging a body pillow like her life depended on it. Her hair was a beautiful disaster across her pillow, and the blanket had fallen far enough to see that she was swamped in the same Caltech sweatshirt she wore every time I was gone.

“Hey little girl.”

She slowly shimmied her way up the pillows, clearly surprised at my appearance despite having called me in. With half shut eyes, she spoke through a yawn, “What’re you doing here? You look like you haven’t slept in a week!”

“I missed you.” I admitted quietly, finally bridging the gap between us and climbing onto her bed on top of the covers. I couldn’t even bother taking off my blazer or my shoes; I needed to be close to her now, without any other unnecessary delay.

Despite curling up against me immediately, she still found a way to whine. “You better not have skipped out on anything for me. We know I’m not doing anything worthwhile in here.”

I leaned down to kiss her forehead, my hands holding her against me so that I could breathe in the familiar scent of her hair and perfume. “I strongly disagree.” I sighed, happy to hear her hum and giggle at the way my breath tickled her face.

I didn’t even hear the door open, but she tilted her head away from me to see her friend. I stayed where I was, not wanting to take my eyes off of her again for as long as I didn’t have to.

“I’m gonna head out. Let me know if you need me again.” He said, his voice full of repressed anger and sadness that I understood but didn’t particularly care about right now.

“Thanks for coming! I’ll probably see you next week; I’ll text you!” She chirped, waving to the man who’d already left.

His absence eased away the last remaining bit of tension in my shoulders, allowing me to bury myself in her neck while she continued to laugh. I heard the soft sounds of the tv for the first time and mumbled into her skin.

“What are you watching?”

“Just a sitcom. You wouldn’t be interested.”

She sounded... defensive, if not a little ashamed for her choice in shows. I had to laugh, realizing that she was still unaware of the shows my mom and I used to watch when I was a kid. The asinine, cheesy soap operas that taught me the dorky, awkward way to love that she constantly mocked me for.

I would save that piece of information for later, though, and instead, I chose to show her my own interest in the things she loved, or in the very least found comforting. “What’s it about?”

Apparently, it was the right question to ask. Over the course of the next thirty minutes she tried to condense the entire nine season series of The Office into one barely coherent rant. Eventually, she realized that I wasn’t following along as closely as she’d hoped, and just decided to start the show over.

I didn’t mind. She chastised me a few times for not paying close enough attention after catching me monitoring her reactions more than the show itself. But eventually she fell asleep on my chest, still murmuring about Jim and Pam until the words were just gibberish.

Without her commentary, I was forced to pay attention so that when she undoubtedly woke up and quizzed me, I wouldn’t just be repeating words I’d heard in the background. Somewhat unsurprisingly, I found myself swept up in the romantic storyline of her two favorite characters. So caught up, in fact, that when she woke up, it took me a moment to notice.

“What did I miss?” She grumbled, trying to force her eyes open while she turned to see the tv that displayed the immediate results of a very poorly timed love confession. “Oh, Casino Night.” Her voice was nostalgic and a bit solemn while she spoke. “This is one of my favorite episodes.”

“Why? It’s so sad.”

Without looking up at me, she pondered the question. It was obvious she’d never really thought to question why she was drawn to it. Her answer didn’t provide any comfort or explanation.

“I guess I relate to it. Loving someone like that.” She shrugged before turning back to rest her head against me. She’d said it so easily, like it wasn’t something jarring for me to hear. I realized then that she’d never told me about her past relationships. In fact, I didn’t even know if any existed.

She sensed the anxieties that were building and brought a hand to my cheek to reroute my gaze to her. “What’s wrong?”

“You… You never really talk to me about your life.” My voice was so pathetic, the pout on my lips so childish in its sadness. Because although I told myself I was only upset she hadn’t told me about it, another part of me was also jealous at the idea that anyone else ever got to hold her.

And what a stupid thought that was, to be jealous of men who didn’t get to keep her. I should have been hoping that she had people who loved her and held her and made her happy, not wishing none had existed.

“What are you talking about? We talk about it all the time.” She chuckled, clearly unaware of my inner debate and turmoil.

“I mean your life before me.” I clarified, taking her hand into mine and watching as she carefully wound our fingers together.

“Oh, well… Who cares? It’s in the past.”

She was using that voice that warned me that she was about to try and change the subject. She hadn’t meant to get this conversation started, and now it was quickly getting away from her. But I wasn’t ready to drop it—especially now that I was aware of a huge, life altering event that she’d managed to keep hidden until now.

“I care. If it’s important to you, it matters to me.” It didn’t seem to reassure her, a lopsided smile covering her cheeks before she tried to maneuver away from the topic again.

“What time is it? Shouldn’t you be going to sleep?”

I held up the small notepad that rested on her nightstand, displaying the several timestamps that I could tell were meant to signal the last time she’d taken painkillers. “I was waiting so I could offer you medicine.”

“Ugh, yes please.” She groaned, moving herself off me so that I could grab the bottles beside her bed.

But there was something I’d noticed before, which only became more obvious once I picked them up. I looked past the orange plastic, my mind straining to count the number of pills inside. The date didn’t match the amount.

“Did you fill the narcotics?”

She didn’t answer.

“Is that why he was here?”

“No.” She responded swiftly, shaking her head and rubbing her temples.

The mention of him brought out feelings that I’d almost forgotten, and with those feelings came stupid worries and questions. “...Why was he here?” I mumbled, turning the pill bottles in my hand like I didn’t already have them memorized.

“Are you jealous?” She teased, poking her tongue out at me. It worked to turn my pout into an awkward half-smile, but I was still sulking.

“Would he have really stayed in the bed with you?”

“What? No!” She shouted, sitting up fast enough that she winced, her hand grabbing her stomach but still talking through clenched teeth. “Did he say that?!”

Her reaction alone made me laugh, easing the tension and reminding me it was stupid to worry about it in the first place. “He might have implied it.” My hands started to sort through her tangled hair, gently arranging it back to its rightful place.

“Ugh, he’s such a fucking dick.” She grumbled, wiping her face to try and get rid of the sudden anger.

Meanwhile, I was once again distracted. It was obvious in the way she struggled to keep her eyes open and preventing her hands from turning to fists. She was in way too much pain for my comfort, and it was partially my fault for getting her riled up over something so silly.

But she hadn’t told me she filled the narcotics, and she didn’t tell me where they were. I needed to respect that, if only because I was scared that it might make her doubt me. When she turned to look me in the eyes, I held her cheek that fit so perfectly in the palm of my hand.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me where they are. I understand.”

“No, it’s fine. I trust you, Spencer. It’s…” The troubled look shifted to a shaky smile. “They’re in my bedside table. I don’t think I can get them myself.”

I tried not to look excited by the reveal in case she misinterpreted my happiness. It wasn’t the drugs I cared about – it was the fact she trusted me with the fact that they existed. That was enough to carry me through any cravings that popped up. They were few, but like always, they were there.

I funneled those feelings into my caretaking, grabbing her a water bottle and helping her ease back down onto the pillow after she’d down the pills. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, listening to soft sound of the theme song in the background.

Just as I shifted my focus back to the TV, she brought me back to her with a tiny whisper.

“You have nothing to be jealous of.”

I looked down to see she still had closed eyes, now accompanied with a genuine smile. I laughed at the sight, and her eyelids fluttered open at the sound. She narrowed her eyes into a suspicious glare.

“Yeah, I... may or may not have said that.” I admitted, wiggling my fingers between hers.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Very cocky, Dr. Reid.” She chastised, squeezing my hand tighter and bringing it up to her chest. I could feel her heart beating softly against us, her chest slowly rising and falling as she started to try to drift off again.

“What else did you guys talk about?”

“Nothing that matters. Let’s go to sleep.”

It was a suggestion that didn’t need to be made, because she was basically already asleep by the time she replied, “Okay. I love you.”

“Sweet dreams, little girl.”

—————————————————

The best part of the week was waiting for the chance to spend two uninterrupted days with (y/n). But this time it was different; when I left her house this morning, she told me she wanted some time to herself.

I tried to ignore the fifty alarm bells that rang in my head, convincing myself that she just needed a break from entertaining me. We all needed alone time sometimes, right?

No, that was a lie. I didn’t ever need a break from her, and it worried me that she needed one from me. Was I stressing her out? Were there more secrets she was keeping from me? It had to be something heavy if she didn’t want me to know, but that’s exactly the time she would need me most, right?

It was times like this when I wished that I had more experience with relationships; I was panicking and I didn’t want to ask anyone for help. I didn’t want to. I was scared that they might tell me the wrong thing, or the right thing. I was worried they might talk some sense into me and tell me that waiting outside my girlfriend’s apartment was creepy, stalkerish behavior.

I knew it was. I tried to justify it with a present that I was going to leave on her doorstep and leave. But when I got to her place, a dread filled me. I shouldn’t have come. She deserved her privacy and my trust. She’d earned it, and it wasn’t right for me to doubt her.

So, I turned my car back on and prepared to leave. But before I could, I saw her. Alone.

We’d talked about it before, and she’d promised me she wouldn’t go anywhere alone. The risks were too high – not just that she might fall or get stranded, but that something could go seriously wrong. Her stitches could tear, or she could overexert herself. She could get into a car crash and no one would know about her already existing internal damage.

She wasn’t supposed to go anywhere alone. She’d promised me. But there she was, climbing into her car after suspiciously glancing around. Her car left so quickly, I barely had time to think about the ethics of following her. After a few seconds of wrestling with myself, I decided to just do it and worry about the consequences later.

I’d admit it to her later, when she was safe and sound. Maybe it would be good, too, to see that she was fine without me. I just wished she’d told me so I could come to her aid if she needed me to.

After nearly twenty minutes of driving, I still had no idea where she was going. I was a little surprised she hadn’t noticed me yet, which just goes to show she probably shouldn’t have been driving.

Actually, was she on narcotics?

My mind was spinning, my hands shaking when she finally pulled into a small, unfamiliar cemetery parking lot off the side of the road.

For all her paranoia leading up to this point, she didn’t check the other cars in the lot when she got out. Instead, she put her hand on her stomach and slowly made her way through the gate, hobbling off into the field.

And then I felt terrible for so many reasons. I selfishly felt awful that she didn’t want to bring me here. It hurt that I was violating her trust like this, but it hurt worse to know she was going through it alone.

Leaning back in my seat, I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes, trying to calm down the emotional disaster of my mind. I didn’t need to follow her, I thought. She would come back in a little while, and I could watch her get back in her car. She would make it home, and I could call her and ask her how her day was. Maybe she’d even tell me herself.

God, I was such an idiot. I shouldn’t have come, but now I was here, and I couldn’t leave, either. This was the time she was most likely to be in danger, since the cemetery was relatively empty.

Just as that thought occurred to me, another car pulled in. it wouldn’t have mattered much to me, but the thing that followed caught my attention.

The woman inside the car climbed out and made a beeline to (y/n)’s car, peering into the windows and taking photos of the license plate. At first, I did nothing, trying to keep track of everything that was happening, noting the unfamiliar woman’s license plate number in turn.

But then she took off in the same direction my girlfriend had left in, and I realized that I couldn’t just wait here. This woman clearly knew her, and from the looks of it, it was not going to be a friendly encounter.

This is why, I thought. This is why I made her promise.

I couldn’t just run out after her yet, so I followed as closely as I could without being clearly visible, relying on sounds, instead. But what I heard was somehow even more distressing than when I could see.

“What are you doing here?! You aren’t allowed to be here!” A scratchy, unfamiliar voice rang through the air. Even if I didn’t already know, her tone alone told me that a fight was about to follow.

I bit down on my tongue, trusting that (y/n) could handle herself. She’d done it before me, and she could do it now. The only thing worse than revealing my presence would be doing it while also discrediting her.

“Mrs. Loughton! I can explain!”

At least I finally had a name for the face, but that was about as far as my thoughts went before they turned to red. Because the only thing I could hear after that was the sound of skin against skin, and the gentle thud of someone hitting the ground.

“Get the hell out of here, you bitch!” The woman screeched, and by the time I came into view, I saw my girlfriend on her hands and knees, holding the very visible red mark on her face. Neither of them saw me, too caught up in each other to notice.

It was the panic on her face, the way she lifted both hands to cover her head when the woman grabbed a fistful of her hair that broke my silence.

“Hey! Get away from her!” I shouted, running over to the two women. Mrs. Loughton released (y/n)’s hair, causing her to drop back onto her hands and knees while she looked up at me with an angry, frazzled stare.

“Spencer?!”

“Who the hell are you?” The woman spat, redirecting her anger towards me. I much preferred it this way.

“I’m a law enforcement agent, and you just assaulted someone.”

“Assault? Ha!” She laughed, talking over me as if she’d heard the speech a million times before. I got the impression this wasn’t the first time the two have had a showdown. “That’s funny, considering.”

“Spencer, please leave.” The fear overtook any other emotion, and the tears welled so quickly in her eyes it hurt my chest. I couldn’t leave. There was no way I could leave her on her knees in front of this woman.

“Let me guess, are you one of her dad’s friends?” She sneered, but all I could hear was (y/n) continuing to plead.

“Spencer. Go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I couldn’t breathe, my chest heaving with unbridled rage, confusion, and something else I couldn’t even place.

“Oh I bet you are one of his friends. Always protecting her. You’re all a bunch of pathetic, power-hungry lowlifes.”

(Y/n) stood up now, neither of us paying any attention to the raving woman while I tried to help her up. “Please, I want to leave.” She pleaded, grabbing my hand so tightly that it trembled.

“Are you a murderer, too?”

“What are you talking about?!” I snapped, my arms wrapping possessively around (y/n) like I could shield her from everything that was happening. But I couldn’t, and I heard her soft sobs while she pulled on my shirt, now wet with her tears.

“That stupid, selfish little bitch knows exactly what she did, and she knows that she’s not allowed anywhere near here!” Her face was red, her arms waving and tears sprouting in her eyes while she ran out of breath. Then, deathly quiet, she pursed her lips and tried to bite her tongue. But she couldn’t, the words bursting through when she saw the way I held (y/n).

“If you really are a law enforcement agent, then get her the fuck out of here! She’s not allowed on this property!”

“She hasn’t done anything!”

It was the wrong thing to say, and she let me know swiftly and with full force.

“She’s the reason my son is dead!” She shrieked, stepping towards me with an accusing finger in my face. “It was her friends, her drugs, her horrible decisions and now my baby is gone!”

I hated this part. Because as much as I loved (y/n), it was impossible not to hear the absolute devastation in this woman’s voice. And the longer she talked, the more I understood what was happening. Not enough to argue back, but enough to feel sympathy for them both.

More than anything, I wanted to protect (y/n), but I didn’t know how. I held her tighter, trying to show her that she was safe. I’m afraid it had the opposite effect, and she started to fight my embrace.

“It should have been her! She should follow in her father’s footsteps and do the world a favor and...” She cut herself off, knowing the weight of her words and contemplating them a moment longer before making her decision. “And just fucking disappear!”

The shock of it all caused my arms to loosen – just barely. It was enough, though, and before I knew it (y/n) had burst from my arms, taking off at full speed through the headstones.

“(Y/n)!” I choked, going to run after her, but I was stopped one final time.

“Yeah, get the hell out of here.” The woman behind me softly sobbed, trembling as the fight left her. “Go protect her like you always do. They always do.”

I couldn’t stay on the thought; I’d have to come back to it later, because there were more pressing concerns for me than a stranger who’d just hurt the woman I loved. So I turned around and booked it after her just as she slipped through the gate and disappeared into the cover of the woods around the cemetery.

Naturally, she couldn’t stay on the level, manicured grass. My heart was pounding not just at the energy exerted to follow her, but from all the different things that could go wrong. She could fall, she could run into something, she could get lost.

But luckily, even the adrenaline couldn’t stop the pain in her stomach, and she’d barely gotten anywhere before I caught up to her. I loosely caught her wrist, pulling her gently back to me before she nearly collapsed in my arms.

“(Y/n), where do you think you’re going? You can’t be running like this! Especially not here; it’s way too dangerous!” I said through my labored breaths. Then we stopped, and she protested at my touch.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked calmer now, lifting her back onto her feet. “Did she hurt you?” When I went to lift her shirt to inspect her wound, she brought her hand down in a hard slap.

“Stop, Spencer! Just fucking stop! Don’t touch me! Get away from me!”

The venom dripped from her tongue and burned my skin, my hands jumping back away from her as I took a step back. All the negative emotions that I’d just watched her go through were growing and morphing into a painful anger, and it was all aimed at me.

I deserved it.

“Why the fuck are you even here?! I told you I wanted to be alone today, a-and now you’re what, y-you’re following me?!”

I wished I could just shut up, but the words flowed out of me like I had any right to be angry with her over a promise that didn’t even seem to matter anymore. “And it’s a good thing I did. That woman could have seriously hurt you!”

“Who cares!”

“I do!” My voice strained at the volume I used to match hers. Our angry shouting disrupted the wildlife and broke through the sounds of cars traveling on the highway on the other side of the trees. “You might not care about what happens to you, (y/n), but it matters to me!”

“Why the fuck are you yelling at me?!” And then the sniffles turned to outright sobs, her whole body shaking, her hands cradling her face while she struggled under the weight of everything that had happened so quickly.

I shouldn’t have come here, but I was glad I had. I wished none of this had happened. I just wanted to hold her, but she stepped away when I got closer, defensively covering her head. My heart shattered at the thought of her being scared of me.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I said genuinely, my voice still breaking, but now at an acceptable volume. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be yelling, I-I just… I got scared. I thought you were going to get hurt again and I—“

“Sometimes I’m going to get hurt, Spencer. I can’t put my life on hold for your comfort. I’m only twenty years old. I’m not ready to be a housewife waiting at home for you!” She was quick, stumbling over her words and waving her arms between us in the hopes it would force me to keep my distance.

I didn’t want to hurt her, I never wanted that. And right now, it was very obvious that’s exactly what I was doing. “Of course. I want you to have a life, but you…”

Her hand was back on her stomach, and the action caused a sudden panic that overwhelmed the logic and sense. “You were shot!” I cried, “You almost died in my arms! I thought I was going to lose you, forever.”

She couldn’t reply yet, her lungs too busy trying to take in hungry breaths without irritating the hardly healed skin.

I clenched my eyes shut, unable to look at it any longer. “It’s been barely a month, (y/n). A-And you’re already sneaking around behind my back and putting yourself in danger and I don’t know how I’m supposed to just turn a blind eye to that.”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” She panted; the words hardly audible. Her skin was damp with sweat from the pain that was obviously written all over her.

This time, when I stepped closer, she couldn’t move away. I didn’t hold her yet, opting instead to place one hand on her hip and the other on the side of her face. She sighed, resting her head against my hand. She said she didn’t want to talk to me, but the way she closed her eyes and her heartrate immediately calmed down with the simplest touch told me that she wanted nothing more than for me to pick her up and take her home.

“I know you’re trying to distract me from whatever the hell just happened out there, but you don’t have to do that.” I whispered, gently wiping away her tears with my thumb. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”

“Oh, you’re just going to let it go?” I couldn’t decide what was more simultaneously heartbreaking and adorable, her pauses to sniffle, or the way she pouted as she spoke. “You aren’t going to ask me every night until you get an answer?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to trust me again, then yes. I’ll let it go.” I reassured her. She took the answer with an immense amount of relief, leaning forward to rest all of her body weight against me. I tried to stop her from falling too far or too hard, hoping to ease the pain that was already wrecking her.

But she didn’t even seem to notice, rubbing her face against my shirt and further soaking it with tears. I just wanted her to be okay, and I wished I could do it faster. For now, all I could do was pet the back of her head, rocking just a bit to the side in a soothing manner.

We stayed like that for a long time, and I occasionally pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispering soft apologies to her and telling her that I loved her, no matter what. Eventually, she responded, her voice filled with guilt and shame again.

“I was going to tell you eventually.”

“I believe you.” I immediately responded, pulling her back to look at me to know that I was telling her the truth. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She gave the tiniest, saddest nod back.

“I would never try to hurt you.” I promised, earning a slanted smile. I mirrored it back to her, which made her laugh.

The sounds of the highway paired with the rustling of the leaves, and the two of us shared a quiet moment of understanding. Because I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I was glad I was there, and she felt very much the same.

“I’d like to go home, please.”

“Okay.” I agreed, taking her hand and maneuvering the woods that didn’t seem nearly as dangerous when her hand was in mine. “Let’s go home.”

—————————————————

“Hotch, I need to ask you for a favor.”

The man didn’t even look up from his desk, and I could tell from his posture that he wasn’t in the mood for the conversation he expected to follow. I couldn’t blame him; I hadn’t been the easiest employee to have for the past couple of weeks.

“Reid, we’ve talked about this. You either have to come back completely or—“

“No, sorry, this… isn’t about that.” I corrected, trying to ease the tension before it got any worse. Unfortunately, he still seemed combative, although there was now a guilt mixed in the frustration.

“I need to talk to you about (y/n)’s father.” I clarified, my voice breaking mid-sentence. I cleared my throat, trying to make eye contact despite the nerves gnawing at the little self-esteem I had.

But after a brief moment of thought, Hotch waved me forward, gesturing to the seat in front of him. He shoved the papers to the side and I wondered what it was he was working so hard on. I had a feeling it had to do with her, but I wasn’t going to ask.

“Does she know you’re asking me about this?”

It was the first question, and although I fully expected him to ask it, I still choked on an answer. He sighed deeply, his hands folding on his desk. He wasn’t able to look at me, either.

“Reid…”

“I-I’m really worried about her.” I needed him to hear the desperation in my voice, to feel just how scared I really was. I didn’t want to come running to him for every little thing involving her — he’d already done so much for her just fending off the prosecutors.

I knew we were both tired, but I could see it in his eyes and hear it in his tone when he talked about her that she meant something to him, too. Even if it wasn’t nearly as much, he’d known her when she was a kid.

Well, I guess to Hotch, she still was. I hated to exploit that knowledge, but I needed answers now. Before something else went horribly wrong. So I broke into a rant, my hands running through my hair and down my legs as I tried to prevent them from turning to fists at the memory.

“The other day she did something and she got into a physical altercation with another woman a-and she told (y/n) that she should follow her father’s footsteps and…” The word caught in my throat. He narrowed his eyes, and I suspected he already knew what I was about to say.

“Disappear.”

Across from the desk, he tensed, bowing his head to look at the files lining the surface in front of him. Every single one of them contained a plethora of information about someone’s family. Someone’s everything.

“What did she mean, Hotch?”

“Reid, the information in that file is not only classified, it’s extremely personal. I’m sure she doesn’t know all the details herself. I think it’s best for you to hear it from her.” He explained it so robotically, I could tell he didn’t want to be saying it. The way his jaw clenched told me that there was a lot he wished he could discuss about whatever the hell happened.

It must be a lonely way to live, I thought. And then I thought of her, carrying the weight of uncertainty on top of whatever Hotch held. She was strong, but she was young. She had been even younger then, and she wouldn’t have had the one man who’d taught her to survive to teach her how to handle what came next.

I wrung my hands together. I didn’t mean to be manipulative, but tears stung at my eyes. They were real, and they were persuasive.

“I just need to know that she’s safe.” I begged. “But your reaction isn’t telling me that at all. In fact, it’s telling me the exact opposite.”

Now that I’d started, the words wouldn’t stop.

“If my girlfriend is in danger, I need to know. It’s not like I care about the mission or whatever her father was wrapped up in — I-I just want to know what happened to him. This woman knew, so apparently it’s not that classified!”

My voice grew in volume, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I could feel his face morph into a scowl even as I clenched my eyes tightly shut. There was so much I hated about this, but nothing more than knowing that despite everything I’ve done, I still couldn’t reach out to her and help her when she needed me.

I was still failing her, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

“Reid, stop.”

Hotch must have been able to read my mind, because something inside of him also snapped, the tension releasing from his shoulders and his jaw. I wondered if it was because he trusted me not to give it away, or if it was because he trusted her.

Either way, he spoke, his voice low and hushed.

“I need you to understand that what I’m about to tell you has never been confirmed, and should not be shared outside of this room. Even with her.”

Sitting up with a straight back and a heavy swallow, I nodded.

“I understand.”

—————————————————

| Part 17 |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid series #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #reid series #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spence reid #spencer reid angst #angst #h2m

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that-random-one · 4 years

Text

I'm Lost... Again

Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Reader has a terrible sense of direction

Date Posted: 2/22/21

A/N: When I was writing this I didn't know where it was going with it. I meant for this to be angst or something because I was feeling angsty and then I ended up with this. I also meant for this to be shorter, but my fingers said no. I have no fucking idea how to write proposals either so that part ended up shitty and too cheesy for my taste, but my brain said no to different ideas so it's staying there.

It was your and Shouto's anniversary. It has been 4 years since you started dating and it's been a little over 5 years when the both of you met.

You met at the Hero Gala when your mentor, Hawks, introduced you to him. He was a sidekick of Endeavor's at the time. You were only 19 years old when you were introduced, roughly half a year out of Shiketsu High. Shouto, being a year older than you, was 20 when you met. You frequently saw him on the news and always thought that his quirk was cool.

After the Hero Gala, you ended up seeing more of him for some reason. Hawks and Endeavor worked together often, so you constantly saw him on missions. Sometimes your patrol routes would cross each other too. Occasionally, you trained together when either Hawks or Endeavor had to talk to each other for something and had to go to the other's agency. Somehow one of you was dragged along or willingly went. Either way, you ended up seeing each other and decided to train together to pass time.

About a year of this went on and you both grew undeniably closer to each other. Eventually, Shouto asked you out while you were training together. You were surprised and ended up getting frozen by Shouto's quirk. After he defrosted you, you said yes.

Throughout your 4 years together you told each other an unmeasurable amount of I love you's, moved in together, and have had plenty of interrupted dates because of the duties of being pro heroes.

You also can't forget the many fights you've had with each other. They reach from play fights about your terrible sense of direction or Shouto's terrible theories to small fights that could be easily fixed with an 'I'm sorry' and an 'I love you', or to that single big fight you've had where you almost left him. Shouto quickly chased after you when you slammed the front door closed with tears streaming down your face. That fight took a bit more to fix than an 'I'm sorry' and an 'I love you.

Throughout your entire relationship, Shouto never regretted chasing you when you left through that door. He has never regretted being with you. He never thought that it was possible to love someone this much. That's why he planned something special for your 4th anniversary.

Shouto asked Midoriya and Uraraka for help setting everything up. Uraraka was a big help with making sure everything looked perfect. She was also a good second opinion on confirming if you were to like something or not.

It's not that Shouto didn't know if you liked something or not, he just wanted everything to be perfect for you. Asking the female that just so happens to be your best friend seemed like a favorable person to ask for a second opinion.

With the help from the other two everything was ready before he knew it.

"Wow. It looks so beautiful." Uraraka took in the sight that they all put hard work into.

"It does. I bet Y/n is going to love it!" Midoriya enthusiastically said with a big smile on his face, clearly proud of what he helped do.

"Yeah, I think they will." A small smile taking place on Shouto's face. His stomach filled with butterflies, anxious for your reaction even though he's sure you'll love it.

~~~~~~~

You were supposed to meet Shouto two hours ago for the night he had planned. You ended up getting lost though. You were currently driving on a road that you have no idea where it leads.

You have no idea how you got here. Shouto gave you the address that you were supposed to meet at. You put the address into the GPS, doubled no, tripled checked that it was correct, and began driving.

You ended up taking a left instead of a right, then a right instead of a left. You took a bunch of more wrong turns and the poor GPS couldn't keep up with your constant turning and froze.

You pulled over and put your head on the steering wheel for a while. When you had enough self-pity you sat up straight again and looked at the time. Shit. An hour and a half have passed. You were late. Very late.

"I swear I wasn't driving around that long. Shouto's gonna kill me." You muttered to yourself and put your head on the steering wheel again. "Okay. I'll just retrace my steps- turns? Whatever. I'll make my way back home then retry and not get lost again. Yeah, a great idea."

You looked to make sure no one was coming in either direction. When it was clear you made a U-turn.

"Ok, so I turned left to get on this street. That means I need to turn right. Wait, fuck which way is left and right." You quickly held up your fingers to make L's. "Nope, that's wrong. I need to turn left."

You kept on driving straight, looking for a road on the left. One problem, there were so many left turns and you didn't know which one you came out of.

"Shit. Going left brings me closer either way right?" You turned left on a road you randomly picked. "Ok, I went another left next, right? Fuck I can't remember. I should have stayed where I was."

You take another left hoping that you would see something familiar. Your hopes soon got crushed. You looked at the time. It's been another half hour.

"Fuck."

~~~Meanwhile~~~

Shouto was sitting at a nearby bench to where you were supposed to meet, his leg bouncing up and down at a concerning speed. He knew you had the day off. He knew you would finish everything you needed to do today hours before the arranged time. So where were you?

A lump caught in his throat as his mind wandered. Did you stand him up? Were you done with him? Did you not love him anymore?

He shook his head as if to rid himself from those thoughts. No, Y/n isn't like that. They wouldn't do that…, right? He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the ground. You idiot. This is Y/n we're talking about here.

Even though he kept trying to reassure himself, that you weren't standing him up, that you still loved him. He couldn't stop the burning he was feeling behind his eyes. All of his insecurities reaching the surface.

He looked back up, taking in the view in front of him. He was sitting on a cliff that overlooked the water, a beach to the right of it. All of the surrounding trees had fairy lights around them, multiple strings of lights connecting each tree.

The sun had long past set. A sunset you were supposed to watch together while you had dinner and talked of everything and nothing. Just enjoying each other's presence since your jobs have been more demanding than usual and you've barely had any time together lately. The moon was shining on the water, making it glitter. The only light around was coming from the fairy lights.

He stood up from his seat on the bench and lifted his arms above his head, stretching. He walked to the edge of the cliff and stood at the edge. He gazed at the sight and took in a deep breath, the wind ruffling his red and white hair. The air was much fresher here than in the city.

He then felt his phone buzz in his pocket, disrupting the peaceful silence. Someone was calling him, but he didn't feel like picking it up. He let the call go to voicemail.

It started to buzz again, signaling another call. He sighed out of annoyance, what the hell was so important that they couldn't leave a voicemail or text. It was his day off anyway, it's his time to relax. He fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at who was calling.

It was you. A picture he took of you laughing when the both of you went to a cafe for a date. When you saw it you scrunched your nose up in disgust, but let him keep it since he said it made him happy to see you laughing.

Before he could answer the phone and demand answers to where you are and what's so important that you stood him up, the call went to voicemail. He unlocked his phone and went to his contacts. He found your contact and just as he was about to hit the call button you called him first. He quickly picked up and instantly started talking, not allowing you to say anything.

"Where the hell are you? What's so important that you had to stand me up? Are you…" He paused, a lump in his throat but forced the words out. "Are you with someone?"

~~~7 minutes earlier~~~

"I have no idea where I am. I'm completely fucking lost. I am now hitting the 3-hour mark of being late." You laughed out. Half of you were surprised because you didn't expect to get this lost. The other half of you honestly expected this considering your terrible sense of direction that no GPS could help you with.

You give up, screw your pride. You need fucking help finding your way to where Shouto is, or your home at least. You pulled over and turned off the ignition.

You grabbed your phone out of your pocket and turned it on. You were immediately greeted with a picture of you and your friends. You smiled at the memory of going to the park and goofing off with all of them.

You unlocked your phone and saw the picture you took of Shouto when he was sleeping. He looked so peaceful and cute that you couldn't help it.

You went to your contacts and found Shouto's contact. You clicked the call button and held the phone up to your ear, waiting for him to pick it up. After what seemed like forever the call went to his voicemail. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You called again only to end up with the same result. You decided that the third time's the charm and if he didn't pick up you would call someone else for help. You clicked the call button and held the phone up to your ear one more time.

Almost immediately Shouto picked up. You were about to greet him when you were attacked with questions. "Where are you? What's so important that you had to stand me up? Are you…" He paused, you could tell from his voice that he was upset. You waited for him to finish his last question. A sudden feeling of dread filled you. Nothing could prevent the shock you felt with his next question and how soft and hurt his voice sounded whispering it. "Are you with someone else?"

"What?" That is all you could manage out due to your shock.

"Are you with someone else?" His voice was louder but just as hurt.

"No! No, Shouto why would you ever think that?" You heard him let out a breath of air out of relief.

"I'm sorry. It's just that it's been 3 hours since you were supposed to be here. I assumed the worst and forgot it was you. You would never do that." You let out a small chuckle. "Um… where are you anyway?"

"Oh. Um…" You cleared your throat as you felt your cheeks heat up out of embarrassment. "I don't know."

This utterly confused Shouto. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I may be lost. Again."

Shouto laughed, feeling like an idiot about forgetting your awful sense of direction, and assumed everything but that. He started walking towards his car. "What street are you on? I'll come to find you."

"Uhh… I'm on Willow and 3rd." You took another look at the signs in front of you to make sure you read them correctly.

~~~~~~~

"Wow. It's beautiful." You took in the view in front of you. You walked to the edge of the cliff, taking in all of your surroundings.

"I had help from Midoriya and Uraraka." Shouto felt around in his pocket for the small black velvet box he had in it. When he found it he pulled it out and opened it, the piece of jewelry shining in the moonlight. He got down on one knee. His heart was beating so fast, it was like it was determined to burst right out of Shouto's chest.

"We'll have to thank them later. The air is so fresh here. It's nice." You turned around and your breath hitched in your throat.

"Y/n, I love you so much that the word can't come close to how I feel. I love you so much that it hurts." You felt tears well up in your eyes and your heart start to beat faster. " I want to have to find you whenever you get lost forever. I want to have our movie nights and cooking together forever. I want to fall asleep in each other's arms forever. I want to wake up to your beautiful face forever. I want memories of you, of us, forever. Y/n, I want you forever. Will you marry me?"

A few tears escaped your eyes. "You just need the unicorn and 6 years old me would be shrieking yes." That did not help Shouto's nerves. Was that a yes or a no? Shouto's expression must have shown his confusion because you were giggling. "It's a yes, Shouto."

Shouto took the ring out of the box and took your left hand. He slid it onto your ring finger, letting go of your hand as stood up. He then placed a hand on the back of your neck and gently slotted his lips against yours. You kissed him back until you both ran out of air.

"I love you."

"I want my unicorn before I tell you those words again." You teased him.

"Unicorns don't exist though." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to how he could get a unicorn.

You giggled, "I love you too, Todoroki Shouto."

#Lowkey I have terrible sense of direction too #thats why I only go to places I actually know #Ngl at first I did not understand why people loved this man😃#He slowly grew on me though😭#todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #todoroki shouto x y/n #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #mha x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha #mha

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horansqueen · 4 years

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Stuck With You - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Somebody

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32 🡪chapter 33

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I never felt like this with somebody I never thought I'd feel like I do I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you I never had this rush in my body I never thought I'd feel something new I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you

Something 'bout you and the way we fit Like the stars in the night, heat of you on my skin Hadn't known you for long but it felt like years From the second we met I knew things would change

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PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, AM CONVERSATIONS, STUCK WITH YOU, NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS AND MY ONESHOT ON HERE!

NIALL

A few days later, Devon and I had packed in silence. It was snowing and I kept glancing outside the window, seeing her from the corner of my eyes every single time. I knew I had been rough with her and I also knew that fucking her roughly against the wall of public toilets was a bad idea. At that time and with so much alcohol swallowed, It had seemed legitimate but now, I felt like an asshole and I had no idea how to handle it or what to think of it.

It was a good fuck, I wouldn't say different, but definitely not our best. I remembered the first time we had sex and the pictures she took, realizing she had never showed them to me, even if she had promised she would. Perhaps we had been so busy with our ex lovers and fighting with each other that we forgot about how amazing the few days alone at my apartment had been.

We remained silent a lot now and I hated it. I missed the sound of her laughter, her rambles and complaints, her comments while we watched a movie. The only thing I was still aloud to hear were the snores while she slept and I found myself sitting in my bed to listen to them a bit too much, and a bit too late at night.

I wanted to ask her to sit in the front seat with me in the car but I was scared she'd refuse and I was not even sure why it actually scared me anyway.

"Are you gonna ride with Lewis?"

"Mm, I'd rather ride with you." she admitted, glancing back at me before grabbing a hoodie and throwing it randomly in her bag. "Daxia and him are just getting on my nerves with their cute little nicknames and their non-stop affection. Did you know she sometimes pretends to purr? What the fuck?"

I let out a laugh and zipped my bag before turning around and letting myself fall on my bed to sit. "I know, I noticed. I think it's cute."

"Oh you would." Devon chuckled, shaking her head.

"What does that mean?"

She turned around to sit on her bed too, sending me a huge amused smile. It felt so good to laugh with her and feel like she actually cared about me that it made me want to lock the door and not go on that trip, keeping her here with me.

"The first impression you give is like, a fratboy." she admitted with a smirk. "Confident, a bit stuck-up, someone who brags all the time. Basically, you seemed to embody everything I hate in boys, especially those in college. But when we get to know you... you're a romantic, a softie. You've got the biggest heart I've ever seen in someone, and that makes you extremely endearing. That's why everyone loves you, that's the real reason you're so popular."

"Is it?" I just whispered, a bit shocked by all the compliments she had just thrown at me.

"Yes." she confirmed with a nod, sending me a fond smile that turned into a smirk. "Your face helps, too, I have to admit."

"Oh you think I'm handsome?"

She smiled more and tilted her head, nibbling on her bottom lip. "You know I do. Everyone does."

I wanted her to get up, walk to me and straddle me. I kept imagining her sitting on my lap, facing me, before her lips would meet mine. I couldn't stop thinking about my hands traveling on her body and her moaning in my mouth. I wanted her to whisper to me that she loved me while I made her cum. It sounded like the perfect scenario but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had made it clear I wanted more than just sex, and she made it even clearer that she didn't want a relationship. It was a mess, we were fucked, and I hated this situation more than I could explain. I didn't know how to handle it or change it. We had reached a deadlock and I couldn't find a solution.

Louis kept repeating me that she loved me but the more time passed, the less I was convinced. Was it even possible to resist that feeling for so long, especially when the other person is always so close? It didn't seem likely and my fate in the reciprocity of my feelings was faltering.

"My first impression of you was that you were a shy and boring girl." I admitted with a chuckle. "That's why I wasn't sure why I felt so connected to you. I don't think being around people who thinks art is useless is something I could easily do. But you turned out to be so fascinating, talented, funny and genuine. You're also a little cheeky minx, and I love how you don't let anyone walk over you, especially not me. And god knows I tried."

Her lips curled gently and she looked a bit embarrassed but I was not sure why. She licked her lips before pressing them together and finally, she chuckled.

"That's something I had promised myself when I left my old school, that I wouldn't let anyone walk all over me anymore. That I wouldn't be this... this vulnerable, naïve girl with so little self-esteem." she explained with a shrug. "It's nice to know I partially succeeded, even if it's hard to save my own heart, sometimes."

"Sometimes we just don't know how to really save it." I explained in a low tone, looking in her eyes. "Sometimes we just do it the wrong way, you know?"

"I don't know, I'm just trying the opposite of what I did last time." she confessed. I could read in her eyes how sad she was and it broke my heart.

"How does it feel so far?"

This time, she looked up and stared at me for a few seconds. "Not good."

I was trying to find the right words to tell her that she should give us a chance without being too aggressive but I couldn't find anything and after a while, my phone beeped. I sighed and grabbed it before reading Louis' text message.

"Okay, Louis is here. I didn't even know he was gone." I admitted with a frown.

"He's been so weird these days, and absent too. He's always super busy and doesn't answer my text messages."

"I think he's got a girlfriend."

Devon sent me a sad smile and shrugged a shoulder. I didn't know why she seemed so sad about it but I didn't try to find out. It was already hard to accept that she didn't love me the way I loved her, I really didn't need to start being jealous again, at least not of Louis.

"Yea that's one of my hypotheses, too"

We both grabbed our bags and got out of the building quickly, walking until we both spotted Louis' car. I held my breath but my lips finally curled when I noticed a cute brunette sitting on the passenger's seat and glanced at Devon to see her reaction. She didn't seem to think anything of it but I noticed she moved slightly closer to me.

"Look, I got to warn you two, Daxia invited Mandy and Noah, and one of them invited Abby." Louis let out as soon as we got close enough.

I glanced once again at Devon and at the same time, she had glanced at me. We shouldn't even care about Abby at all but here we were, and I was not sure why she was so much of a threat to Devon. Of course, I would be suspicious of Henry only because he's her ex boyfriend, so I could understand the aversion she felt for my ex girlfriend but at the same time, if Devon didn't love me, why was it such a big deal?

"Hey, Dev." Louis let out gently, grabbing her attention. "We won't let that ruin our trip, alright?"

She nodded and pressed her lips together before taking a quick look at the girl sitting next to Louis and then look back at him. "I'm gonna ride with Niall, okay?" she let out gently. "Give you two some intimacy."

She just sent him a fake smile and turned around. I was about to follow her when Louis yelled her name and she turned her head and raised her eyebrows up. "I just... I'm offering you the first drink, okay?"

It took her a while but she finally just nodded and we walked to my car before hopping in it. She threw her bags on the backseat and when I started the car, she immediately reached for the heating button.

"What's wrong? What happened between you and Louis?" I asked as I drove, following Louis' car the best I could.

"He's distant, and annoyed with me." she just shrugged. "People tend to get tired of me at some point but I honestly thought Louis was different."

"Devie, Louis isn't getting tired of you." I just explained, shaking my head. "He's got a new girlfriend, that's it. He's never gave up on me and he honestly could have many times. That's not how he is, trust me."

She remained silent but sighed and turned to look by the window. I would have given a lot to find out what was happening in her head but I didn't dare asking. We weren't back to being close, and we hadn't talked about those rough exchanges of words, whether it was the one we had late at night in the dark street or the one in the public toilets of a bar, and I was not sure we ever would. We could pretend everything was alright all we wanted, it was a lie. She was sad and I was in pain, and pretending we were fine was not going to change anything.

"Apparently, Daxia and Lewis are going to ride with Mandy, Noah and Abby." she finally said, taking me out of my thoughts. She typed something on her phone and my heart jumped in my chest when It made me realize that we were going to be alone again for a few hours. "That's a pretty loaded car." she added with a shrug.

"Not our problem."

"Nope, not at all." she agreed, leaning on the bench and bringing her feet up, placing them against the door of the glove box.

I noticed she had taken her boots off and even if it should bother me, it really didn't. I was in it very deep and I was literally drowning.

"That means we could have gone with Louis, save fuel and a car." she added, turning her head my way and making me chuckle.

"There's no way I'm riding with him. Not in that car. Plus, look at how slow he is. We're following him and it's a pain in my ass."

This time, Devon laughed genuinely and it made me smile. "I don't even ski, you know." she pointed out a few seconds later. "I'm just going because I'm really alone for Christmas this year, but I don't think I'll ski or anything. I brought canvases and paint, I've brought a few books and movies.. I mean I'll join you guys downstairs for a drink at night or a hot chocolate but I've never really been sportive or anything... and even less when it came to sports practiced in winter."

"Alright, no ski time for you. You know, we only go to spend time altogether. Some of us just also likes to ski."

The conversation continued for a while but when it stopped, Devon put music on and I started singing despite myself and she joined me. At some point she just stopped and even turned the volume down a bit. It made me chuckle and I glanced at her only to feel my heart jump in my chest at the way she was looking at me.

"Did I annoy you?"

"No." she whispered, leaning her head in the bench, sending me a fond smile and shrugging. "I just get so many feelings when you sing."

My smile fell and I licked my lips. It brought so many questions in my mind but every time I wanted to ask one, I stopped myself, either scared of the answer or of the way it would make her react. Before I knew it, we parked and took our stuff out, following Louis and his girlfriend in the hotel. We were walking in the lobby when Louis moved closer to us without looking at us.

"Look you two don't be pissed but, I sort of put both of you in the same room." Devon frowned while I raised my eyebrows and Louis just groaned. "Don't blame me. First off, the rest of us are sort of in relationships. I think Abby's got a room by herself so if either of you want to switch room to be with her, be my guest. Anyway, it's not like you two weren't used to share a room, right?"

We stopped near the counter but neither me or Devon had mentioned anything. Louis turned to us this time and his eyes moved from me to her and he finally rolled them. "Look I'm sorry, I just honestly thought you two would be dating by now."

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly a bit uncomfortable, and noticed Devon bringing her shoulders up and wrapping her arms around herself, showing she felt pretty much the same. We had planned to meet in a few hours at the restaurant but it's only when Devon and I entered our room that my jaw dropped.

"I can... sleep on the floor if you want." were the only words my brain could form and express and it made Devon chuckle.

"Don't be silly, the bed's big enough for both of us." she replied, putting her bags near a side and taking her coat off before placing it on a chair. "Besides, it won't be the first time we share a bed."

Flashbacks of us cuddling in the bed of my apartment appeared in my mind and I blinked a few times as if it would make the memories even clearer. We had spent many days sleeping in the same bed but somehow, at that very moment, it felt totally different. I wondered if Louis had asked only for one bed for us because he honestly thought we were going to be together by now, or just because he's an asshole. Either way, it didn't change anything and I walked in the room to put my bags down.

I got ready to join our friends but when I got out of the bathroom, I noticed Devon in sweatpants with a book in hands. It made me frown and I grabbed my phone and my wallet, glancing at her.

"You're not ready?"

"Mm, no, I think I'd rather stay here." she admitted with a shrug. "I'm not really hungry anyway. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to see your ex girlfriend."

"Legit." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and nodding. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"

She looked up from her book and leaned her head against the pillow behind her. It made me want to kiss her and tell her once again that I loved her. It made me want to stay in the room to spend the whole evening with her.

"No, thanks, that's very sweet of you." she let out gently. "It's late anyway, I'll probably be asleep when you'll come back."

When I came back, however, she was not in bed. I frowned, realizing the lights were still on, and found her laying on the floor in a fetus position. She had put papers on the carpet to be sure she wouldn't make too much of a mess and she probably had forgotten her easel because her canvas was on the floor. I smiled when I noticed she still had a brush in hand and even more when I realized she fell sleep using yellow paint.

I turned to look at her panting and finally noticed the shades of orange and red all over it before crouching down to have a better look. I couldn't explain how good it felt to see her use other colors than dark grey and navy blue, and it made me wonder what exactly it meant. I took the canvas slowly and gently, placing it on the desk in the corner of the room before walking back to her and getting on my knees.

"Devie, hey, come on, let's get in bed okay?" I helped her up and she groaned, leaning on me and still half asleep.

I brought her in bed, laying her down and she quickly curled up again as I brought the covers over her. I got undressed and got under the blankets too, turning my body her way to look at her, my head leaning on my pillow. She looked peaceful and I noticed dried paint on her hands and forehead, wondering how long she had been asleep. The whole time I was at the table with my friends, I regretted not staying in the room with her but somehow, I knew she probably wouldn't have painted if I had been there, and the result was totally worth it.

"Mm, Niall."

I held my breath when she whispered my name and something twisted in my stomach. For a second, I wondered if she was awake but she started snoring softly again and I exhaled when I realized she had literally murmured my name while sleeping. It was the cheesiest thing ever and at the same time, I had never heard anything that made me happier.

"Don't worry Devie, I'm here." I whispered back. "I'll always be."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan college au #niall horan au #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

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the-garbage-will-do-1138 · 2 years

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TL;DR

I bought a car via Carvana and it was not a good experience. I’m not gonna say don’t use the service but I am gonna explain the hell that was the past week and let you be the judge on whether or not you want to.

So, as I’m sure everyone has noticed, gas prices are really high. I have a round trip commute of about 60 miles every day so I’m sure you can imagine how much that affects my wallet. A few weeks ago I started researching cars that would both be better on gas and not cost me more in the long run. I came across an electric version of my current car and thought it would be a great option to remove gas cost from my budget. I spent roughly two weeks doing research on how fast it charges when plugged into a normal home outlet, the range the battery can get you, everything. From what I found, the car I had settled on should take,at most, 12 hours to reach full capacity and had a range of 90 miles. I did the math and that seemed like it would work for my purposes. The monthly payment was only $70 higher than what I currently pay and with the subtraction of gas cost I would actually save money. Taylor and I took the plunge and purchased the car. Friday the 18th the car was delivered and the first sign that this might be a problem became evident. They delivered the car with less than 10% battery. By the time we had completed the test drive we had 5 miles of range left. We plugged it into our outlet and were very displeased to see that it was going to take more than 22 hours to fully charge. That’s twice as long as it was supposed to. So, I got the car 10am Friday and couldn’t drive it until the next day. After it had charged all night it wasn’t even at 50% battery. We started getting worried that I wouldn’t have enough charge to get to and from work and even if I did, it wouldn’t charge enough to get me to and from work every day following. We checked again at 11pm Saturday night and it still said it was going to take 10 more hours to get fully charged. It was charging roughly 2 miles per hour. I realized I wasn’t going to make it for work in the morning. I was up worried about it until almost three AM. I woke up Sunday, called off of work and then notified Carvana that I needed to use their 7 day return policy. They couldn’t get me my car back until Thursday. That’s not helpful because I work until almost 6pm Sunday-Thursday. So now I have a car I can’t do anything with and 4 more days of work. I need a rental. Awesome. So I go get a rental car for 5 days and schedule the swap for 9 am Friday. I confirmed with customer service twice that they would be bringing my car back and picking up the one I bought. Fast forward to Friday 7:15 am and I get a text from Carvana asking to push back the car pickup to noon. I had an appointment in Fort Wayne at 11 and I had to return the rental by 1. I called to explain this and discovered that the person coming for the car I purchased was unaware that he was supposed to be bringing my trade in back to me. Awesome. He contacted his manager and then his manager contacted me and said my car was in a storage facility with 30 thousand other cars and it wasn’t possible to get it back to me today. I explained that’s not gonna work for me because I’m not gonna pay for another week of a rental when none of this was my fault to begin with. He said he would look into some stuff and get back with me with a solution. I never heard back from him so an hour and a half later we spent 45 minutes on the phone with customer service and finally got an answer. We were told that they located the car and would complete the swap asap. We mentioned we wouldn’t be available between 11-2 and they said no problem they’ll be there at 3. Then I got a text when I was in Fort Wayne dropping off my rental that they would be there at 2. I rush home and they show up at 1:45. I gladly signed the new car back over to them and took the keys back for my car. It was not a good experience. I did request they pay for the rental and am currently waiting for a confirmation on whether they will or not. The only good thing that came from this was they filled the gas tank on my original car. When you factor in that I had to pay for the gas in the rental that means I paid $200 to not get a new car.

#carvana

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leerongrong · 4 years

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[1:59] the need to throw your phone across the room grows every second best friend!jaemin doesn’t reply to your messages, the last message you sent was 30 minutes ago and he still hasn’t replied. you figure his phone’s notification must be broken from the amount of date outfit photos you sent, now you're starting to regret trusting his gut to choose the outfit picnic date!jisung would like the most.

the day has been perfect, blue clouds and warm weather to accommodate the date jisung asked you out on just a week ago. said boy had planned the day out for weeks, only gathering enough courage to ask you the week prior. he had shyly reminded you again of your date yesterday, to bring some dessert and to meet him at the river. you’d asked him whether you needed to dress nicely or not and his answer was, “you always look pretty no matter what you wear.” with a heavy blush on his cheeks that made you blush too.

you had finished your hair and makeup roughly an hour ago and you’ve planned on either wearing a dress or a skirt, both options seemed uncomfortable as you'll be sitting down the whole time and you'll dread washing the grass stains but you still feel the need to impress your date.

“finally!” jaemin’s specially saved ringtone played on your phone, the melody very catchy and you'd found out it was one of his songs, you pressed the accept button immediately. “nana, i’m gonna be late!”

“i know, i know,” he gushes, "i just finished lecturing jisung- he wanted to wear a hoodie on your date! can you believe it?”

“na jaemin, i will literally spread your netflix password if you don't pick from one of the photos right now.”

“wear the skirt. jisung likes skirts.”

the adrenaline’s still running high in your system the moment you arrive. the river is tranquil with not many people there, just a few sitting on benches and some cycling near the park. the river is flowing smoothly as it should, with countless trees planted around it in purpose of giving shade from the sunlight and under one of them, you spot jisung.

the boy’s laid out on an open mat and while he is facing the other way, you can clearly see him twiddling with his fingers and you giggle, glad that you’re not the only one nervous for this date. you walk slowly onto the grass, hands on your skirt so that it doesn’t go flying when the wind blows. you see a picnic basket in front of jisung, multiple types of food surrounding him and a stereo speaker on his lap.

“hi.” jisung’s head snaps up at the moment your voice hits his ears, getting up quickly on his feet to greet you with his own smile. “hey.”

you’re changing positions ever so often the moment you plop down while music plays for the both of you, the melody sweet and gentle as you try to eat in peace, conversation and banter flowing like the river in your view. jisung’s hands are twitching and you wonder if he’s uncomfortable with your endless moving. “do you want to use my hoodie?”

“what?”

“you look uncomfortable in you skirt.” his cheeks are pink and he avoids eye contact while rummaging his backpack, hands popping back into view along with a gray hoodie. “i thought it’d be helpful.”

“thank you, sung.” your plates are placed on the ground while you reach out to take his hoodie, both of your hands brushing for a moment and you blush at the contact. you’re quick to hide your face as you pretend to busy yourself with putting his hoodie on your lap while he’s quick to avert his gaze to the laptop in his backpack.

multiple people pass along the both of you while you eat dessert, kids jogging around and playing soccer while you two watch the clouds move along, sometimes pointing out their shape and what they reminded you of, sometimes even laughing at the shapes jisung comes up with.

“you want to watch a movie?”

the two of you sit side by side, a comfortable distance in between while jisung sets up his laptop and opens netflix to watch a movie. while the movie’s duration shortens, so does the distance between you and jisung, the two of you shoulder to shoulder when the movie hits halfway and it takes everything in you to rest your head on his shoulder, heart beating faster while you wait for his reaction.

jisung is quiet for some time, his body going stiff after you laid your head down. the boy trying to take deep breaths as discreetly as possible. ‘she smells like strawberries and vanilla.’ jisung takes one deep breath, almost coughing when he hears you take one too. ‘come on, jisung. be a man, be a man.’

your heart jumps out of your chest when you feel fingers intertwine with yours. you'd imagine what holding his hand would be like before, only now experiencing how big his hands are and how they're slightly calloused and you feel shy to think about how his slim fingers fit perfectly intertwined between yours, the smooth texture of his palm underneath yours.

the rest of the date goes smoothly, both of you silent as he slowly walks you to the front door of your house. the night air is fresh and cold, slightly nipping at your skin under jisung’s hoodie. he's looking down at his feet the moment you reach the door, your hands ready to push it open and go inside to scream into your pillow. “i had a great time.”

“i- yeah- me too. i had a great time too.” his smile is flustered, cheeks pushed up as he smiles bigger at you. you see him slowly raise his hand to wave as he turns to walk back home. “good night.”

you're bitting the inside of your cheek, eyes trailing after his figure and you cup your hands to your mouth to scream out. "jisung, wait!"

your feet have never moved this fast in your life, you scramble down the side walk to meet him halfway, stopping yourself before you crash into him. under the streetlamp, you decide jisung looks more ethereal anyone else ever would, the thought of seeing him again soon filling your tummy with butterflies. you raise yourself on tiptoes, planting a kiss onto his cheek and making a mad dash back to your front door. you push the door open and wave at him, giggling when you see his tomato like red face. "let's do this again soon, yeah? walk back safe, good night sungie."

the door clicks shut as you slide down the wooden surface, heart beating so fast you press your palm on it, hoping to calm it down. your cheeks hurt from smiling so wide and you're not sure how long you’ve stayed in that position until multiple dings from your phone snaps you out.

[20:01] nana🐰

how was your date?

[20:16] nana🐰

jisung just came in looking like a tomato

[20:17] nana🐰

why does he look like this???

[20:17] nana🐰

hellooo????

[20:18] nana🐰

oohhh you kissed him! and asked for another date!!

[20:18] nana🐰

he looks like a love struck fool

[20:19] nana🐰

p.s jisung's going around like an idiot looking for his hoodie. its with you right?

[20:20] nana🐰

p.s.s jisung just realized its with you & says you can keep his hoodie. he said, i quote, “hyung it looked better on her than it ever did on me.”

[20:22] nana🐰

heheh jisung says your hair smells like strawberries and he likes it

[20:25] sungiiiee <3

please don’t read hyung’s messages!

[20:26] sungiiiee <3

i had a really good time...

[20:36] sungiiiee <3

i'll call you tomorrow, goodnight♡

[20:37] hyuck 🤡

he’s smiling so hard at his phone i’m scared his face’ll fall off.

[20:37] hyuck 🤡

it took him a whole ten minutes just to send a heart. love sick idiot.

[20:34] nana🐰

i hope he makes you happy as much as you do him. it makes me happy seeing him like this. tell me about the date tomorrow, now get some rest okay? good night.

[20:37] to: sungiiie <3

too late for that sksksk. your hoodie looks good on me huh?😳 good night sungie♡

[20:38] to: nana🐰

dont worry nana, he made me smile like no one ever did... good night.

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

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Secret Love Part 18 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Just need to reiterate that this man lives in my head rent free 24/7. I finished part 22 and I’m thinking that I have roughly 3 more parts to write. We’re definitely on the back half of this series now and I’m actually kind of sad because I love these two (hopefully you love them just as much).

Warnings: angst, cursing, cockwarming, smut (this one is really filthy…fair warning), oral sex, maybe a bit of breeding kink.

Word Count: 3,583

~~~~~~

You hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop until it went clattering to the floor. It could be worse...you tried to remind yourself. But that didn’t stop the ache in your chest or the tears that kept filling your eyes every time you thought you’d pulled yourself together.

Sleeping in Cale’s arms Friday night was everything you needed and more. You’d gotten up Saturday morning and made breakfast together before you’d rushed off to work, a day filled with client meetings and house tours ahead of you. You’d parted with a kiss and an ‘I love you’, promises of talking later following you.

With such a busy day, it wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that you finally had a spare minute to call your parents like you had promised Laura you would.

“Hey mom.” You greeted, settling onto your couch, your legs tucked up underneath you. “Is dad around?”

It took your mom a minute to fetch your dad but once they were both on the line you took a deep breath.

“So I have some news for you.” You stated, your tone bright hoping to signal that this was all good news. “Cale and I are together.”

Silence stretched on for an uncomfortably long time before your dad’s voice spoke up.

“That’s great dear. I have to head out for an evening round of golf but I’m happy for you.” The sound of footsteps and the door came through the phone as your mom took it off of the speaker.

“How long?” Your mom inquired, her voice seeming hesitant.

“Officially almost two months...but we realized there was something here back in March. I never thought that it would ever be a possibility. But everything about it is so right. I love him mom and he loves me. We just fit together...I’ve never felt a connection with anyone else the way I do with him.”

“Oh hunny…” Your mom mumbled, causing your back to stiffen.

“You don’t sound happy for me.” You whispered, shocked.

“I am happy for you...you know we love Cale...just maybe you should slow down before things get too serious.”

“This is serious mom.” You insisted.

“I just...I don’t want you to get hurt. Cale’s a good kid but there’s a significant age difference between the two of you. Plus he’s only there for the summer. What happens when he leaves?” Hearing your mom refer to Cale as a kid made the hair on the back of your neck bristle.

“He’s not a kid mom. Neither of us are kids anymore. I know there’s an age gap but we’ve talked about anything and everything important related to that and it’s not an issue. We’re on the same page.” Before you could continue your mom cut you off.

“Honey...the boy is a young NHL star. He’s not ready to be thinking about settling down. You may think you’re on the same page but I don’t think you realize what you’d be giving up for him.”

“You’re wrong.” You mumbled, your throat starting to tighten up. “I don’t know what happens when he leaves but we’ll figure it out when the time comes. Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

“Because I know how much you’ve always cared about Cale and I just don’t want you to find out down the road that this was all a waste of time because the two of you want different things. I don’t want you to let your good judgment be clouded by lust. You’re a smart woman...don’t give up the life you’ve worked so hard to build for a summer fling.”

Sobs wracked your body as you ended the call without another word. How could your mother say those things? It was like she didn’t know Cale at all...didn’t know you at all. She was wrong...you knew she was wrong. You and Cale were perfect for each other. This wasn’t some fantasy that would never manifest…this was real. The way Cale looked at you was real. His ‘I love you’s’ were real. And distance or time...that wouldn’t change anything.

You sobbed on your couch for almost an hour before finally pulling yourself together. Your mother’s support or lack thereof was not going to define your relationship or your life. Determined not to let this consume you, you threw yourself into all of the cleaning that you had been putting off. There was laundry to be done, dishes to be washed, floors to be swept, mopped, vacuumed.

And then when you finished all of those tasks, it was time to make yourself something to eat, before cleaning up those dishes as well. Of course, all of these tasks took twice as long when tears kept constantly springing up forcing you to put yourself together all over again.

After dinner you pulled the final load of laundry out to fold. As your fingers wrapped around the fabric of Cale’s stolen t-shirt you sunk to the floor of your laundry room. How could she think that you wouldn’t receive in return ten times the worth of anything you had to give up to be with Cale? Gary had joked the other night that you were out of Cale’s league but it was absolutely 100% the other way around.

Carrying the t-shirt back to your bedroom, you stripped out of your clothes, letting the soft fabric of the shirt wrap around you instead. Deciding it was late enough to go to bed, you locked up the house before crawling under the sheets, a scent that was so distinctly Cale wafting from the spare pillow as you pulled it against your chest.

Tossing and turning, unable to sleep, you watched as the clock eventually reached 1:30am. Reaching blindly for your phone which you hadn’t bothered to look at all day, you first acknowledged that there wasn’t a single message from your mother after the abrupt end to your call. There were however multiple messages from Cale.

Hey sweetheart, just checking in to see how your day is going. (Received 2:02pm)

Tell dad it’s unfair for him to kick my ass on the golf course every single time. (Received 5:27pm)

Haven’t heard from you today. You’re probably just enjoying your day off, you deserve it. (Received 8:16pm)

Something is wrong, I can feel it. I’m here if you want to talk and you know all you have to do is ask and I’ll come right over. I love you. If you want to handle it by yourself that’s okay too, just know you don’t have to. (Received 10:42pm)

It wasn’t unlike Cale to send multiple messages through the day, just to let you know he was thinking about you. Normally they just made you smile, but this time they caused another fresh set of tears to form in your eyes, wetting your pillow.

Without even fully realizing it, you were pressing on his contact information and then the phone was ringing. The second ring had barely started when you heard Cale’s voice come through the line. He must have heard you crying because suddenly you heard the rustle of fabric.

“Give me fifteen. I’ll be there.” His sleepy voice insisted and then the call dropped.

True to his word, almost fifteen minutes later on the nose you heard a key clicking in the lock of the front door. The sound of the door opening, closing, and being locked again followed before footsteps padded across the hardwood floors. When the bed finally dipped behind you, Cale’s warm body pressing firmly against your back, you let out a shaky breath in relief.

“I can’t sleep.” You whispered as Cale’s fingers flexed gently around your hip.

“Wanna talk about what’s wrong?” Cale prodded lightly, his warm breath fanning against the back of your neck as he spoke. And though you knew you should talk about it, you didn’t really know what there was to say. It sucked beyond belief that your mother wasn’t supportive but that only changed your relationship with her, not your relationship with Cale.

This was good, you knew this was good. Cale coming over in the middle of the night because you needed him was just further proof.

“No...I just...need you.” You rambled.

“I’m right here sweet girl.” Cale affirmed. Though you could feel the heat of his body along your back, his hand draping over your middle, it wasn’t enough and you couldn’t explain it.

“Closer.” You whispered. Within just a moment, Cale had turned you around, tugged you even closer, and tangled your legs together. Being pressed chest to chest was a little bit better, but it still wasn’t close enough to patch the holes of worry, doubt, and anger your mother had created. It would have to be good enough though, and you buried yourself into his body as much as you possibly could.

“Y/N…” Cale breathed a few minutes later, his thumb lifting your chin so that he could kiss you. “You’re still shaking sweetheart. Please...what can I do?” He begged softly. “How can I quiet whatever voices in your head are making you feel this way?”

“I don’t know.” You mumbled. “This...this will just have to be enough. This is already so much.” Still, your heart was pounding and echoes of your mother’s voice still lingered in your head.

“Do you still want me closer?” Cale questioned, his hands sliding up along your side under the t-shirt. A weak nod was all it took for Cale to slide you out of your clothes, his own quickly following, forming a pile on the floor as he pulled you back against him.

The skin to skin contact was better, you felt some of the weight come off of your chest. And though it might not be the most restful sleep, for the first time tonight you felt like you might actually be able to drift off.

“How could she call this lust...a summer fling…” Your words were practically unintelligible as you mumbled into Cale’s bare chest, but apparently they were enough for him to piece things together because you heard him curse softly. His fingers slid up to cup the back of your head, tilting your face up to his. At the same time, his other hand brushed away the tears from your cheeks, his eyes full of despair and frustration as he looked at you.

He seemed to acknowledge that this wasn’t something he could fix, that he needed to fix, but you could see how much he hated it all the same. Despite the late hour, the wheels in his head were spinning, searching for something that he could do to take away the pain you were feeling.

“Can we try something?” He asked quietly. Shrugging, you nodded, no idea what he had in mind. He shifted you back from his body just an inch as his hand dropped from your cheek to slip between your legs. “Just relax my sweet girl...I know you trust me. This isn’t sex...not really.” He explained, urging your body to give in just a little. Despite not being in the mood, your body grew pliant under his fingers.

“Cale…” You whimpered, confusion making your anxiety increase slightly.

“Shh love…” He soothed. “You’ve heard of cockwarming haven’t you? I’m just gonna rest inside you, give you the closeness you need.”

“Oh.” You gasped, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You okay with that?” He inquired, his fingers moving from your core to shift your body in line with his. “Just want to give you what you need.”

“Please.” You agreed, your fingers flexing against his bicep. Cale was still soft as he slid inside you, the rest of his body shifting to wrap around you now that you were joined together. This was absolutely as close as you could get to him and it was everything you didn’t know you needed.

“Good? Bad? In between?” Cale asked, his lips pressing against your forehead lightly.

“Good...so good.” You breathed, your body relaxing against him. “Thank you.”

Little by little, every worry and negative emotion slipped from your mind until you finally fell asleep tucked against Cale’s chest with him resting deep inside of you.

____

As the fog of sleep started to disappear, you groaned feeling worse than you usually did when you were hungover. Warm fingers brushing against your temple caused you to slowly blink your eyes open. The morning light revealed Cale’s bright blue eyes staring down at you and you let out a choked gasp as you felt him twitch inside of you.

Holy shit…

Cale was inside of you.

Every memory of last night flooded over you quickly at first before slowing down as you remembered how patient Cale had been, willing to try anything to help you sleep. Now, hours later, your bodies were locked in the same position. The only difference was where Cale had been soft inside of you last night, now he was hard, stretching and pressing against your vaginal walls.

“Sleep okay?” Cale’s deep gravely morning voice questioned.

“I slept...that alone is impressive.” You replied honestly. “Can’t believe you’re still inside me.” You admitted, voice awestruck.

“Didn’t want to wake you by pulling out.” Cale explained. “But I need to now...so I can take care of this.”

“How about you stay just a little longer…” You hinted. “Take care of your problem together. After all...your dick seems quite happy where he’s at.” A low grunt slipped from Cale’s throat in response to your words.

“My girl wants fucked huh?” Cale stated. “I think we can make the time for that this morning.”

The first few drags of his cock were rough, your body’s lubrication drying up overnight and the new lubrication from waking up to him inside of you this morning not having the chance to replace it until about the fourth stroke.

Once your body adjusted though, you realized that having him inside of you all night had made you incredibly sensitive. Each piston of his hips drew a moan from your throat and your nails dug into his shoulders, clinging to him and the pleasure he provided. Spending hours joined together had apparently made Cale sensitive as well because suddenly you felt the sticky heat of his cum spurting inside of you as he came, a gasp of your name spilling from his lips. He went soft quickly, groaning as he came down from his climax.

“That was embarrassingly fast.” Cale cursed, his lips pressing against your shoulder.

“It’s fine Cale...I understand.” You assured him, fingers playing with his hair. This was the first time he’d cum before you and while your body was still worked up, you were okay with it after last night.

“It’s not fine.” Cale stated adamantly. “I can’t leave my girl hanging.”

“Cale...I swear it’s okay.” You pressed, feeling him slip out of you, his cum leaking out of your used pussy. Before you could slip out of bed to clean up, Cale’s hands were grabbing your waist, rolling you onto your back as his body sunk beneath the sheets. Feeling his lips against your thigh, you whimpered softly, hands reaching down to expose his head from the blankets.

“Cale...your cum…” The flick of his tongue through your folds, collecting both your juices and his own semen stopped you in your tracks, your head falling back against the pillows.

“We taste good together.” He mused, a smirk on his face as he spoke before diving back into your core like a man starved.

“You cannot just say that.” You whined loudly, your hips jerking as he sucked your clit between his lips. “Fuck Cale…”

Feeling more of his semen start to drip out of you made you whimper and Cale quickly read the noise for what it was, dipping lower between your thighs where he lapped it out of you slowly. What he was doing was so dirty that even with his barely-there touches you were a shaking mess in the sheets.

“You gonna cum for me sweet girl?” Cale mumbled pulling back for air. “Gonna cum for me...give me the rest of my seed so I can fuck a fresh load into you?” One swipe of Cale’s tongue through your folds had you screaming as you fell apart, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over your body. You honestly weren’t sure whether that was one long orgasm or multiple short ones but by the time you came down, the gentle flicks of Cale’s tongue as he worked to clean you up were too much and you shoved his head away.

“I don’t know what you like more. Me cumming inside you or me eating my cum out of you.” Cale teased, crawling up the bed over you. Kissing him was dirty as hell but you couldn’t resist, eager to find out what your mixed fluids taste like. It really wasn’t that bad and you ran your fingers down his back, resting them just above his ass.

“As hot as that was...I’m still quite partial to you filling me up.” You breathed. “I’ll take as many loads as you can give me.”

“Fuck.” Cale mumbled, growing hard against your stomach once more.

“You got another one for me?” You murmured, reaching between your bodies to stroke his length gently. “Because you ate all of it out of me and now I feel empty. I need more.”

“Yeah sweetheart...I’ll give you more.” Cale grunted, pressing back inside of you. His thrusts were quick, the need between the two of you too strong for slow sex. Neither one of you was going to last all that long this round, your vaginal walls already starting to flutter around his length.

“God baby...your sweet pussy really wants my seed doesn’t it? Fluttering around me ready to milk every single drop possible from me.”

“Need it.” You whine, your body aching to feel that sticky heat again.

“Yeah sweetheart...I know you do.” Cale groaned. “Your body is so needy for it. One of these days I’m just going to keep you in bed, fucking you full over and over again, not letting a single drop slip out of you. You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be so full of me. Your hips tipped up to keep it all inside.”

Cale’s words had you feeling like you were about to explode and your vaginal walls fluttered around him again as his hips stuttered.

“You ready for it sweet girl? Ready to milk me dry?” Your nails dug crescent marks into his lower back as you clung to him, your chest heaving beneath him as your orgasm hovered just below the surface waiting for him to give you everything you needed.

“Yeah you’re ready.” Cale hissed. “My girl is so ready. Here it comes.” Cale’s orgasm was long and hard and rope after rope of semen spilled inside of you. The feeling of it tipped you off of the cliff and you clamped down around him ensuring that he did indeed give you every drop. Where your first orgasm had been like a tsunami, this one was magma bubbling up and rolling slowly down the hill before cooling.

You hadn’t even noticed Cale pull out, but when your eyes fluttered open he was standing at the edge of the bed just watching you.

“You don’t even know how sexy you look all blissed out.” He grinned. “And I know you like keeping my cum inside but you should probably go use the bathroom.” He declared reaching out a hand to help you up, his semen dripping down your thighs as you walked the three feet to your bathroom.

Having cleaned up, you found Cale sitting in his pajamas on the side of the bed. Stepping into his open arms you smiled down at him feeling his arms wrap around your waist.

“Thank you.” You murmured, pecking his lips. “For coming over last night. For the cockwarming. For this morning.”

“Are we good?” Cale asked, letting out a deep exhale of breath.

“We were never not good.” You assured him. “My mother’s reservations don’t change anything. She obviously doesn’t know either of us as well as she thinks she does and I’m not going to let her unfounded concerns get in the way of something that I know is good and right.” Ruffling up his hair a little bit, you shook your head. “I love you Cale. I’ve waited a long time to find something this good. So I’m all in.”

“You have to get to work don’t you?” Cale breathed. Glancing at the clock beside the bed you nodded.

“Yeah I do. But not until you know that everything is okay. That I want more nights sleeping next to you. Nights sleeping with you inside me. Mornings where we bring each other pleasure over and over again. I want it all with you and I’m sure my mom will come around eventually. She’s gonna have to because I’m not letting you go.”

“Not letting you go either.” Cale agreed. “Why don’t you go get ready for work and I’ll make breakfast.”

“Perfect.” You grinned placing a lingering kiss to his lips.

The other shoe may have dropped, but the floor was solid so there wasn’t even a scratch left behind.

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut #cale makar nws #nws #lemon #cavalanche #038

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ladyideal · 4 years

Text

Ficmas~ Day 22

Pairing: John Kennex x Detective!Reader

Word Count: 1365

Warnings: Uh. Mild jealousy.

Summary: You and John go to a party hosted by the Captain.

Requested By: @writerdee1701

A/n: wow 22nd already. December really flies by fast.

"So how was Angry 101?" You asked, greeting John as he stepped out of his group therapy session.

"I feel good, better. All thanks to you," The detective planted an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

You grinned, avoiding Dorian's curious glance. "Come on. We've only got half an hour to change, and get our ass over to the Captain's party."

"Thirty seven minutes and forty two seconds," Your MX piped up.

"Thanks Sofia, but you might want to shut it. John here is known for blowing up MXs," You shook your head, trying not to laugh. "Your suit's in the back. We can change at my place."

"You've thought of everything."

John was like that. After losing his girlfriend and betrayed, you understood he was a lot more careful with romantic relationships. So it was quite a surprise when he came up to you with a gift:

His phone number and a piece of bubblegum.

No one said that in the precinct that co workers couldn't date one another. Clearly, the Captain didn't mind either. Secretly, you wondered if she too was rooting for you and Kennex. But he took it slow at first like you wanted.

"So how do I look?" You finished the last of your makeup and hair.

"Beautiful," John adjusted his tie one more time before putting on his blazer. "You sure this isn't a casual event?"

"Yes, I'm sure," You nodded. "I don't think the captain would appreciate us going there with jeans and a t-shirt."

"Correct," Dorian emerged, looking the same as he's always been. "We should get going, John."

"Don't forget the wine!"

"Can I take a sip from it before we leave?"

"Don't you dare, John."

The car ride was mostly silent. It had been a great eight months together, and you honestly hoped that he would be the one. Yet despite all the honesty and transparency within the relationship, something was being held back. Understandably so, John was very reluctant in talking about the day when his team went down, and he himself rounded up in a seventeen month coma.

You wanted to help him as much as you could, as a partner and now significant other would. However, you trusted him. There must be something deeper connected to the attacks that he was keeping you in the dark.

To protect you? Probably.

Children sleeping

Snow is softly falling

Dreams are calling

Likes bells in the distance

We were dreamers

Not so long ago

But one by one

We all had to grow up

"Have you always wanted to join the force as a kid?" You asked, shutting the car door behind you and bundling your scarf tighter around your neck.

"Fight the bad guys," John nodded, stepping in front of the front door.

Knock knock.

"Detectives! So glad you could make it. Come in, come in. It's freezing out there," An unfamiliar man opened the door.

With a round of thanks, you and the group trudged in, making sure to keep the snow out and not into the house. Once within, you rubbed your hands together, taking in the grandeur of the entryway and the chatters from within.

"Detectives, Dorian, Sofia, hope the drive wasn't too bad," A rather proud looking Captain Maldonado appeared by her husband.

"Happy holiday, Captain. Thank you for inviting us," You greeted as your boyfriend handed over the bottle of red wine.

"Oh! A present, you shouldn't have," Her husband turned it over in his hands. "Look at this, sweetie, pinot noir. Perfect with finger food and snacks."

"Please make yourselves at home," Maldonado smiled, thanking you for the gift and leaving to greet the next set of guests that walked in from behind.

"Wow, look at that. At least half of the precinct is here," You mumbled.

People and their MXs milled about, most with a glass of alcohol in hand. With a glance, you recognized some. The Christmas tree stood in the distant corner, quietly flickering through its light sequence. The dining table was filled with snacks of all sorts from crackers to fruit. Furthermore, you swore you could smell hot chocolate, eggnog, and an assortment of other festivity drinks.

"Want something to drink?" John darkly spoke, frowning when he saw Richard among the crowd.

"Yeah. A hard apple cider if they have some. If not, hot chocolate works too," You mumbled, greeting some of those that waved at you.

"Oh Y/L/N, I didn't know you got invited too. Come here by yourself?" Richard swaggered up to you.

Taking a step back, you shook your head. "Not quite. John came with me."

"Kennex?" He laughed. "Did you not hear? His whole team got killed, while he survived. Don't you think something fishy happened there? You could do so much better. What do you say we go, fish some fish?"

"No thanks. I'm here with my boyfriend. Enjoy the party, Paul," You roughly brushed past him, ignoring his surprised squawk. "And maybe grow a pair, jerk."

He was interested in you, way before John did. Despite his good standing as an officer, his personality was nowhere near as nice. When John returned to the force, his jealousy inflated his ego. You didn't quite like him. He was just a dick.

"Paul giving you troubles?" Your boyfriend reemerged by your side, handing over your mug of cider and eyeing the other detective.

"No more than usual. He's been crabby ever since you started taking interest in me. Didn't help that Stahl started giving me the stink eye every time I mention you in anything." You snorted, taking a long draught.

"And speak of the devil, here she comes," He indicated at the detective approaching.

"Detective Kennex," She smiled, then falling slightly at you. "Detective Y/L/N. Good to see you two here. How's the eggnog?"

"Bland, rum could be stronger," John answered.

Before the blonde could answer, the White Elephant gift exchange was starting. Politely excusing you and himself, John practically dragged you away from her after watching you give her death daggers.

"Jealous much?"

"Hmph. Being a Chrome, genetically modified won't give her all the upper hand," You grumbled, placing your presents into the center and drawing two numbers.

Fourth and ninth.

"Let's see what's in store this year."

As more people gathered around, Maldonado cleared her throat. "White Elephant rules are still the same. 3 steals, and the present is out. Understood?"

All heads nodded.

"If you may start, Jenks."

You watched with a smug grin as the first person chose yours, before being stolen by the second, and then stolen again by John who went fourth. Good thing you bought the present while on a grocery run, or he would've known what it was. When it was your turn, you gave everyone a death glare, clinging onto your present, daring anyone to challenge you.

Wisely, no one did.

"Not giving it up?" He teased as you teared it open, revealing an advent calendar full of chocolates.

"Fuck no."

He laughed. "Save some for me alright?"

"No promises."

As the party dwindled and people left, you and John thank the Captain once more before heading home. "That was fun."

"Sure was."

As you got out of the car, you realized that you forgot to grab John's gift on the way out. "John?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you grab your advent on the way out? I can't find-. Oh here it is," You fished out the gift and frowned at the lack of chocolates within. "Who ate all the advent calendar chocolates?"

In the silence, you turned to him, jaw dropping at the sight in front.

"What chocolate?" The detective quickly swiped away the last remnant of chocolate on the edges of his mouth. "I didn't see any chocolate."

You rose an eyebrow, and grinned. "So you, Detective Kennex, is saying that despite the incriminating evidence on your hand and face, that you've not seen nor tasted any chocolate."

"Yes, Detective Y/L/N. That is correct."

"And that you are knowingly lying to an officer of the law."

"Sounds right," And before you could retort a smart ass reply, pulled you in for a kiss. "Happy Holidays."

Believe in what you feel inside

And give your dreams the wings to fly

You have everything you need

If you just believe

Eats Everything: @asraime @aspiring-ginger @bluesclues-1234 @mournthewicked @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @lykxzandlove @also-fangirlinsweden @keijibum @groovyfluxie @mysoulshideaway @fandom-imagination-ss @mayday1284 @supergeekfangirl @sayanythingcreations @your-sparklywinnercollection

Urban: @yueci @fandomsfeelsandfamily @justa-traaash

#john kennex #john kennex x reader #almost human #detective kennex #x reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral #31 days of ficmas #ficmas2020 #deb writes

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kayliemusing · 3 years

Text

1: Name - Kaylie

2: Age - 23

3: 3 Fears - Spiders, failure, loss

4: 3 things I love - Reading, writing, Taylor Swift

5: 4 turns on - Kindness, nice hands, humor, someone who has a really warm heart.

6: 4 turns off - Arrogance, moustaches lmao, narcissism, basket ball shorts *shudders*

7: My best friend - Her name is Megan (but also my mom lmao)

8: Sexual orientation - Heterosexual

9: My best first date - I have never been on a date.

10: How tall am I - 5'2

11: What do I miss - My childhood mostly

12: What time were I born - 2:45 pm

13: Favorite color - Red, but sometimes a nice summery, pastel yellow

14: Do I have a crush - no

15: Favorite quote - I have so many that I can't say my utmost favourite, but one that I always think about is from Richard Siken "He was pointing at the moon but I was looking at his hand." I'm not even sure how this is supposed to be interpreted, but I just love the detail of this. Of someone looking at the moon and pointing at it, but you're looking at their hand because you're that consumed by them and also they're like your moon. anyway-

16: Favorite place - My house lol

17: Favorite food - Cheesecake

18: Do I use sarcasm - Yes, but very dryly

19: What am I listening to right now - Nothing actually. I'm just sitting in the quiet.

20: First thing I notice in new person - I used to think it was physical, like eyes or their smile, but I think it's actually their demeanor. i.e., confidence, if they're laid back, talkative or quiet, etc. Or even just how they handle things. Like when I'm at work and I meet a new co-worker I'm always noticing how they are with people.

21: Shoe size - 6.5 US but I can manage a 7 US too.

22: Eye color - Grey

23: Hair color - Ashy blonde, but I usually get it highlighted to be a brighter blonde

24: Favorite style of clothing - I'm super into the French girl vibe right now (elegany, classy, ribbed sweaters tucked into high waisted jeans or dress pants, a blazer thrown over and a nice gold necklace) but I'm also really into a summery boho look (flowy maxi dresses and skirts)

25: Ever done a prank call? No

27: Meaning behind my URL - On this account, it's just my name and then 'muses' because this account is just me talking to myself tbh. My main account is called autumnsletters which is just a combo of my fav things: autumn and handwritten love letters, and finally, my embarrassing taylor swift account is called sixteenavenue which is a lyric from her song I Think He Knows where she mentions her heart skipping down sixteenth avenue.

28: Favorite movie - I feel like i don't have one answer bc I always have a different answer to this question lmao. I think it's called A Christmas Carol (the 2009 version w/ Jim Carrey). It just makes me feel cozy and warm inside. Also: Clueless.

29: Favorite song - All Too Well by Taylor Swift I think.

30: Favorite band - Of Monsters and Men

31: How I feel right now - I actually feel really happy today, which is a change lol. I had an awful week last week, but over the last couple of days I've just felt more creative and happier.

32: Someone I love - My mom

33: My current relationship status - Single

34: My relationship with my parents - Excellent.

35: Favorite holiday - Christmas

36: Tattoos and piercing i have -0 :'(

37: Tattoos and piercing i want - I want to get my ears pierced again bc the holes grew over. Low key want a nose piericing and low key want a tattoo on my collarbone (or somewhere around there)

38: The reason I joined Tumblr - Because everyone else had it and I felt left out LOL

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other? - I don't have an ex

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? - No

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? - No i've never been kissed rip

42: When did I last hold hands? - never but it's ok bc i can hold my own hand

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? - Depending on what I'm doing. If I showered the night before and I'm just doing a very low-maintenance look, roughly 15-20 mins. On a normal day in which I shower in the morning and am trying to actually be presentable, roughly an hour.

44: Have I shaved your legs in the past three days? - Have YOU shaved MY legs? No. Have I shaved my own? Yes

45: Where am I right now? - My room

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? - Most likely I'm not drunk, but IF I WAS, it would be my friend, my mom, or my sister (my sister would probs make fun of me and film me tho tbh)

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? - Loud if I'm jamming with nothing else to do but sing along. If I'm trying to do something, I'll turn it down bc I can't focus with loud music (especially if I'm trying to write something/talk to someone/text someone)

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? - My mom bc my dads dead

49: Am I excited for anything? - My sister and I are going to Banff in about three weeks so I'm excited for a getaway.

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? - No

51: How often do I wear a fake smile? - I work in retail so

52: When was the last time I hugged someone? - I don't know. I think I hugged my mom at some point this week lol

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? - Bye bye babyyyy

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? - my cat

55: What is something I disliked about today? - I had to go to work

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? - Taylor Alison Swift baby

57: What do I think about most? - Probably Taylor Swift.

58: What’s my strangest talent? - I can make stomach gurgling noises with my mouth closed.

59: Do I have any strange phobias? - Nah, pretty generic ones

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? - Behind the camera

61: What was the last lie I told? - Some lady asked if a product was good and I said yes so I wouldn't have to help her find another one

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? - Neither what the hell

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? - Neither

64: Do I believe in magic? - No

65: Do I believe in luck? - No

66: What's the weather like right now? - It's calm, but a little cloudy. It was really warm and sunny earlier, but it's gotten a little grey.

67: What was the last book I've read? - I just finished this series called The Winner's Curse by Marie Rutkoski and it was so good but so stressful omg. Still 5/5 stars.

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? - Yes

69: Do I have any nicknames? - Not really, but sometimes my coworkers call my Kayls

70: What was the worst injury I've ever had? - Oh my god when I was like 10 I fell during grounders and the bar hit me right on the cooch. Most painful event of my entire life.

71: Do I spend money or save it? - Spend it bitch

72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue? - No

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? - yes!! my blanket!!

74: Favorite animal? - I love hippos and I don't know why.

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? - Reading on my phone to avoid sleeping so I could prolong not going to work

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? - Devil. Kind of like Satan The Devil is his full name

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? - Shake It Off

78: How can you win my heart? - Learning Taylor Swift's entire discography for my sake

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? - tbh I really don't know

80: What is my favorite word? - Wonderstruck

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr - n/a

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? - stream fearless taylor's version

83: Do I have any relatives in jail? - no

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? - Healing

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? - N/A

86: What is my current desktop picture? - it's a misty forest

87: Had sex? - no

88: Bought condoms? - no

89: Gotten pregnant? - no

90: Failed a class? - yes

91: Kissed a boy? - no

92: Kissed a girl? - no

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? - no but it's a dream

94: Had a job? - I've had two so far

95: Left the house without my wallet? - Yes, sometimes I do it on purpose so I can make my mom pay for something lmao (chill i'm talking something small like candy)

96: Bullied someone on the internet? - no

97: Had sex in public? - no

98: Played on a sports team? - no

99: Smoked weed? - no

100: Did drugs? - no

101: Smoked cigarettes? - no

102: Drank alcohol? - yes

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? - no

104: Been overweight? - I feel overweight, but technically no

105: Been underweight? - No

106: Been to a wedding? - Yes

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? - Yes, but not since I was younger. I'm mostly on my phone now.

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? - Oh yeah lmao

109: Been outside my home country? - No

110: Gotten my heart broken? - Yes

111: Been to a professional sports game? - No

112: Broken a bone? - No

113: Cut myself? - Yes

114: Been to prom? - Sort of. I'm Canadian so I had grad.

115: Been in airplane? - No

116: Fly by helicopter? - No

117: What concerts have I been to? - Jonas Brothers when I was about 10 lmao and Marianas Trench when I was 15

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? - No

119: Learned another language? - Tried to

120: Wore make up? - Yes. I do work at a makeup store.

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18? - no

122: Had oral sex? - no

123: Dyed my hair? - not a funky color, no

124: Voted in a presidential election? - Sort of; I voted for a prime minister

125: Rode in an ambulance? - Yes

126: Had a surgery? - No

127: Met someone famous? - No

128: Stalked someone on a social network? - No

129: Peed outside? - No

130: Been fishing? - No

131: Helped with charity? - Yes

132: Been rejected by a crush? - No bc I never fessed up to any crush lol

133: Broken a mirror? - No

134: What do I want for birthday? - A jewelry box

#survey

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fructuyeux · 3 years

Text

CANADA-20 (xxx) COVID-19

3/13/2020 - 3/22/2020

By: Rayce R. Rayos

This undertaking was planned as a daringly creative escape from mounting internally & externally placed workloads, & was slated to take place during the UNLV 2020 Spring Break. In concurrence with the vacation was the ever-increasing, ever-diversifying socioeconomic fallout, mandates, & obstacles associated with the first global pandemic that I have experienced in my lifetime. I’d be remiss to not admit that the cheapened airline, lodging, & transportation prices were viewed as a silver lining in an otherwise hysteric & strange time in human history. The following account of the trip is intended to recount the experiences & knowledge gained (from what is remembered), and aid in the recollection of the associated photo-documentation conducted during.

DAY 1 - 3/14 - 7.5 miles

The outgoing flight 1224 from McCarran International Airport to the eventual destination of Niagara Falls, New York was delayed, unbeknownst to me, & so the trip began with a frantic drive to the airport with a hastened goodbye to my roommate & lovely daughter (who wanted dearly to join her father in Canada). The flight was delayed by an hour, & I made it on the plane.

A quick stop in Denver, CO was followed by a landing in Fort Lauderdale, FL. Upon landing, the Spirit Airlines attendant notified me that my flight to Niagara Falls had already left (to the complete fault of their flight coordination), & that I’d have to spend the night & following day in Broward County, 15 miles North of Miami. I was frazzled & upset to have started my trip with such a complication, but after the airline was able to change my ticket free of charge, I decided to extend my trip an extra day. So, I asked them to book my returning flight for a day later (3/20 → 3/21), to which they agreed to do for free, utilizing a COVID-19 flight disruption program. I booked a room at the Vacation Inn in the middle of the night, & recalibrated my trip schedule.

The following morning was a beautiful sunny day in South Florida, & after resting my luggage at the motel for the day (for a fee), I skateboarded to SE 17th Street, hung a right, & breezed through a few miles of million-dollar homes & yachts, over the Causeway Bridge, to what would eventually become Fort Lauderdale Beach Park. Full of families & largely free of fear, the beach was warm, sunlit, & vivacious. The locals were out in near-full effect, & I spent the entire day with the rays on my back, the water at my waist, & a respite of relaxation before ensuing madness. I even struck up a conversation with some fellow beachgoers as a result of my Kobe Bryant tattoo, & learned a good deal about quotidian life down there. I got a workout in on the beach equipment, & some peaceful serenity as I stared down the horizon beyond the Atlantic. I returned to my motel to acquire my bags & make my way to the airport en route to New York… Little did I know that a bar, Bimini Bay to be exact, neighbored my motel. I found myself entrenched in an environment eerily similar to that of the Huntridge Tavern, although this spot was half the size with raunchy anal porn playing on multiple screens throughout all of the 5 walls. Throwing brews back & chain-smoking with the locals to country music was a familiar feeling, & instilled in me further the universal nature of letting loose. That being said, I lost track of time & had to hightail it out of there via a gentleman’s Uber to the airport. Another flight ran after & barely boarded in the nick of time… My time in South Florida was as serendipitous as flight disruptions can be. The most lingering aspect of my time spent there was, indubitably, the sunburn that would come to stick with/on me for the remainder of the vacation. Perhaps the worst case of the sun’s kiss I’ve come to bare. Before fully coming to this realization, I’m on a plane to New York.

DAY 2 - 3/15 - 10.47 miles

Upon being alive on arrival in New York state at 2 AM in the morning, I resolved to sleep in the IAG airport for the night, especially considering my phone charger at the time had been severely out of whack. There I lay, curled on an airport bench in Niagara Falls for the night with blistering skin & a scent of fresh tobacco smoke (& ass). I distinctly recall wrestling with the time I should render myself awake, eventually settling upon 9:30 AM. It was at this time that I found myself the only visible individual in the airport terminal; no staff, no bags, no patrons, nothing. The unexpected isolation harkened memories of the film 28 Days Later. Once the drool was free from my chin, I hailed a Lyft to the American-Canadian border, specifically the entrance to the Rainbow Bridge; it was along this ride that my driver informed me that the American dollar was fairly strong against the Canadian dollar to the tune of 1 USD = 1.33 CAD (roughly). This would come to be an extremely welcomed caveat to the remainder of the trip, as most every purchase converted to about 75% of all prices quoted in Canada.

When the border was reached, there I stood as a man with his spirit & belongings intact, & began my trek over the bridge to a foreign land. With frequent pause, the majesty of the falling water on a brisk Spring day will play in my mind for years to come. Pictures were taken, deep thought was attempted, & it was a stark moment of gratefulness for the life I have been given. Next was passing through Canadian Customs at the north end of the bridge, & after being grilled for a moment as to my intentions for entering, the officer pointed me in the direction of the bus stop from which my Greyhound was leaving in less than an hour. From the Rainbow Bridge to the Whistleblower bridge 2.5 miles north, I was blessed with a walk of forced clarity as I hugged Niagara’s riverway with 75+ pounds of much needed possessions. I found myself doubting my ability to invite others with me on trips in the future out of a fear for unintentionally inflicting similar tasks upon them. Nevertheless, I made it to my Greyhound in time and rested on the ride to Toronto.

The recuperation was much needed. When I awoke I found myself in Canada’s largest city (& the 9th-largest in North America), Toronto, Ontario. Excitement coursed through my capillaries & once departing from the bus on foot, it was straight to my ‘Chinatown Guest House’ to set down my things & get on the go… this was not the case. A whole fiasco followed where I was unable to contact the host, thereby unable to access the place I had paid to stay for the night (& the night before, despite Spirit having different plans on DAY 1). The first two Torontonian hours were spent in a Chinatown chicken spot (Gdou’s) where I struggled to gain the cellular abilities necessary to overcome this debacle; I bought a new charger & charger port at the market center across Spadina. I grappled with frustration in a very real sense, but was utterly appeased to find that I had been sent an email containing the entry instructions from Booking.com. Relief rushed over me. I grabbed my bags, & hunkered down in a room with a wooden balcony & stunning view of Downtown Toronto to boot. I showered, shat, & escaped into the city heading South on Spadina. A brief stop at the famed ‘Graffiti Alley’ along with a trip to the marijuana grocer located me in the heart of the Fashion District, a sector largely reminiscent of Williamsburg, BK (as hip, although much smaller). After a lovely skate to the harbourfront I was able to catch the sun set behind a vast array of monolithic condos & headquarters. The sun was able to get quite low, however, after having nestled between two skyscrapers, & that shared scene on the pier between myself & just a handful of individuals was quite a sight. Heading south afterwards, I rolled by the Toronto Music Gardens, through Coronation Park, & through a series of railway tracks amidst arenas (BMO Arena), Centennial Park, Lakeshore Boulevard, & an array educational campuses. Once Dufferin Street was reached, I headed toward Little Portugal. On the way there I stopped short (per the advice of a local) & turned north up King Street. Halfway home I stopped at the restaurant Thai Place Too & enjoyed some steaming seafood Tom Yum fit with stimulating conversation from the waitress. I paid my bill, thanked those there, & pushed onward on King Street traversing a barrage of tunnels, city folk, & shopping centers. At this juncture I recall being bummed by the lack of nighttime activities, & decided to stop at a bar near my place for the night called Wide Open.

What was to begin & end as a night of the all-evasive ‘one brew’ quickly accelerated into a merry time of mutual drunkenness & fun. A couple dental hygienists befriended me at the bar, & not far to follow were a West Indian techy working for Google & an Irishwoman on her way out of town. My memories of what exactly transpired are quite shaky, but an unflinching enjoyment of that particular night at the bar lasts. I got home at an ungodly hour & crash-land in my bed.

DAY 3 - 3/16 - 7.53 miles

Similar to popping out of bed due to a frightening nightmare, “Where’s my fucking board?!” was the thought & simultaneous phrase that opened my eyes that morning. I was still drunk, so a hangover wasn’t an issue, but discovered a damn large lump on my right posterior parietal bone & a pool of blood in the sheets where I slumbered. I racked what was left of my brain as to where/how/why this injury came to be sustained, but to no avail. In hindsight, it’s consistent with braceless backwards fall, & vaguely recall attempting to ride my skateboard back home equipped with a BAC of full-blown ‘no bueno’. Nevertheless, the pain wasn’t of serious concern (although I had plenty of time to reflect on the very real possibility of me now having to operate in a concussed state). What was of concern was my skateboard, my iPod, & my eighth of weed that I had yet to dip into. I began retracing my steps and was welcomed with open arms by my beautiful black, four-wheeled bride waiting for me at the front doorstep- Check 1. I scooped up my board, got dressed & readied for the (likely music-less) day ahead, had a solid conversation with my father, & cleared my stuff from the house just in time to be 4 hours late for checkout.

In one of the more daring tactics employed on the trip, I stashed my big purple duffle bag (containing clothes & other non-essentials) & my backpack (containing my laptop, passport & other very-essentials) in the empty garbage bin to the side of the front door. This was a huge gamble, & one that would weigh somewhat on my conscience for the coming hours, despite heavy medication- re-upped on weed, Check 2. During my second trip to Graffiti Alley I encountered a bum in mid-tweak repeatedly pulling his pants up & down amidst a backdrop of beautiful art, & naturally this struck me as microcosmic of the whole of Toronto. The bar I had chanced upon the night prior didn’t resume service until 4 in the evening, & so I had a few hours to kill which were spent speaking with various loved ones & contemplating last night’s events as I bobbed & weaved a hangover. 4 o’clock rolls around & I walk into the bar greeted by a smiling bartender with an unclaimed red iPod. THIS WAS A PERSONAL WIN OF GREAT PROPORTIONS, & solidified my successful navigation through mindless debauchery abroad- Check 3. I felt the proverbial wind was once again behind my back, & opted to knock out the city’s landmarks North of Spadina Avenue, largely via Adelaide & King Streets until Yonge.

Post-modern magnificence a la architecture kept my chin up as I managed to dodge pedestrian after pothole after Porsche. Sundown was not far off & the gleaming beams reflected softly off the mirrored panels some seventy-five plus stories on all sides. A real embodiment of the term ‘hustle & bustle’ was laid out in front of me, complete with a citizenry whose diversity mimicked that of my own home a world away. The gritty attitude that I’ve come to associate with East coast cities (specifically the colder ones) was alive & well here, evidenced in reluctance to help guide tourists or even tell the time of day. I loved it, & judged it as genuine more so than anything else. It should also be noted that the music playing in my ears throughout my time in the ‘Six’ was exclusive to the stylings of Drake, a rapper native of the city with references to its contents (streets, sides of town where the pretty girls sleep, subpopulations, parks, etc.) found abundantly in his lyrics.

When Yonge was reached, I peered west to a ton of things going on, but elected to go east. This turned out to be a wise decision. After a few blocks I was greeted by the area of town most closely associated with the Toronto skyline & its historical foundations on the illustrious Front Street. Here is where I stood mouth agape with the enormity & incomprehensible complexity of the city on full view. I touched the base of the CN tower & spent a good amount of time in awe as it registered (despite the Stratosphere being superior in my eyes), traversed the Railway museum set just outside of Olympic Park, gazed upon the Rogers Center where the Blue Jays come to bat, & ended at the water of Lake Ontario at the sandy Harbour Square Park where some solid skating took place. After some time, the thought of my possessions having lasted (or not) in the trash receptacle all this time prompted me to retrieve them, & so back to Chinatown I booked it. The moment of truth arrived when I got off my board at 83 W. Sullivan Street, & lo & behold, my stuff was nestled just as I had left it some 5 hours before. Feeling giddy from the travel-savvy risks taken, I was on to grab dinner with an old colleague of mine who happened to be doing her post-baccalaureate studies there. T. & I, a former classmate at Valley High, met at what we would come to find as nothing more than another closed restaurant with a COVID-19 newsletter plastered on the door. We deliberated playfully on what we should now do, & after having happened upon the ‘T O R O N T O’ sign & all of its illuminated glory, a 6-pack of Stella Artois from the rather hidden LCBO in the mega-commercial Eaton Center became the night’s main entree. Polite exchanges with exceedingly conversational locals made for a nice segue as we awaited our second Lyft ride to the Harbourfront.

The Harbourfront Centre was largely uncrowded as temperatures dipped below zero (Celsius, of course), & after a brew-cigarette combo, it was in an instance that snow began falling from the blackened sky & onto everything in sight… including our unsheltered selves. It was as surprising as it was splendid (at least for a desert cactus like me) to have been outdoors somewhere prior to snowfall & then to behold its beginning. A few days prior, I had been notified that the ski lift an hour North of Ottawa whose mountain I intended to shred had been closed, & so, I found myself with a decision to make: stay in the Toronto area an extra night or board the bus I had booked & crashing in a twin-sized bus seat for the night & do who knows what in Ottawa… Motivated by the phrase, “What the hell are you going to do in Ottawa?” I chose the former & began searching for a nearby hotel room. My homegirl, sitting beside me, of course overheard, & more-than-kindly offered a guest room in her condo as a suitable place to rest my head for the evening. I accepted, & we whisked ourselves out of the snow to a 12th-story condo in the 95+% Chinese suburb of Markham, ON. An once-schoolmate was changed into a dear friend after having exhibited flawless hospitality in the form of whiskey, toast, toothpaste, a bed & sublime conversation. We jabbed & joked in Francais (with hers being superior to my own), & this was a much-needed introduction to everyday dialogue in the different tongue of the Quebecois whom I would spend most of the days to follow with.

DAY 4 - 3/17 - 4.38 miles

I awoke early in the morning after not being able to sleep too much due to my skin’s incessant irritation, as well as a pseudo-insomnia I’ve come to expect from myself when on vacation. To fill the time between my awakening & my host’s, I read as much of The Four Agreements, by Don Miguel Ruiz as I could retain, ending with the last chapter left unread. As a result, the mantras prompted by the book that one is to agree with from within his/herself resonated with me. They are ‘be impeccable with your word,’ ‘don’t take anything personally,’ ‘don’t make any assumptions,’ & ‘always do your best.’ Fondly, I looked to these statements as a source of my second wind around this time, as the physical toll of my endeavors began somewhat to present themselves.

When T awoke, we engaged in parley for another hour or so before trudging to the neighborhood bus/rail station where she purchased my ticket & we ran goofily to make the train before the doors swiftly shut. During the train ride back to Downtown Toronto I was able to sit quietly in my thoughts, as well as get some business dealings out of the way via phone. The walls flanking the tracks were riddled in graffiti of both very high- & very low-quality pieces on fleeting displays. We were headed to Union Station, the hub for all non-automobile commutes in the metropolitan area, & second-largest transportation facility in North America, servicing some seventy-two million humans yearly. A stunning structure of Greco-Roman design with pristine pillars, it was a treat to walk the halls of such an obviously integral establishment. Soon we said our brief farewell & parted ways so that she could go to school & I could purchase a rail ticket to Ottawa, ON- set to leave later in the day.

I purchased my rail ticket to Ottawa for 6:30 PM & stashed my luggage at the bagging station inside the terminal, leaving me with 3 ½ hours to get the last of my rocks off in a city unique to itself. I went straight for Yonge-Dundas square after having caught a glimpse of the scene days prior, & once in the center I felt a likening to Times Square, both personally & perceivably. There was no better wayward idea at the time than to bust off some skate tricks in the center of such commotion, & was able to have a solid 15-20 minutes on the board before security (much like their American counterparts) gave me the good ol’ boot. Onto St. Lawrence Market I dashed, the bayside market most closely associated with Canadian grub. Here I tried peameal for the first time, & was left affirmed of Canadian courtesy, although the meal itself wasn’t anything to write home about. Yet another stop at Tim Horton’s for some pastries seemed in order before heading back to Union Station. Back at the staging port for my bus it was revealed to passengers that there was a 50-minute delay- just the break I needed to step out & smoke a potent bowl. When I did finally step outside after a few lefts & maybe a right, there in front of me stood the Scotiabank Arena where the Toronto Raptors (reigning NBA Champions) play their home games. To be frank, I was at the rear of the practice court, but nevertheless, happy to happen to be there. The train boards, takes off, & a long list of Canadian towns were slept through & bypassed in the dead of night. I hailed a lift from the Ottawa Train Station to my hostel for the night. The place served as the first jail in city, & had since been neatly converted into a hostel with guests sleeping in tight-fitting ‘jail cells.’ I was on floor 6 in cell number 613, the quarters of a long-gone inmate by the name of Angelo Villamino. I relished this opportunity to mix the excitement of historicism with the usually lull nature of lodging. The rest itself was subpar as my skin had begun peeling profusely during the day, & remained red hot during the night.

DAY 5 - 3/18 - 16.24 miles

Morning comes quickly & I am tasked to clear my cell of my things in a playful return to freedom. Breakfast was held in the dining hall of the jailhouse, aptly ascribed the ‘oldest dining hall in Ottawa.’ After replenishing my body, I held my bags at the front desk, & hurled myself into the city; I had a little over one hour to squeeze as much of the country’s capital into my memory banks as possible. I began by searching for the Parliament building (more like a castle) where the bulk of legislation for the world’s second-largest country (in landmass) largely transpires. No Prime Minister Trudeau or politicians in sight, as the effects of the Coronavirus pandemic amplified by the day. I believe this is the day that the Prime Minister of Canada closed the southern border to incoming Americans, followed swiftly by our President’s mutual refusal of incoming foreign travelers at the border. Admittedly, this was not of concern to me, as I figured (& thankfully was later proven correct) that a U.S. citizen would be permitted to come home. In hindsight, I perhaps predicted such measures being taken & allowed them to expedite my plans of getting to Canada before being unable to enter as an American.

Anyway… by Parliament I glided taking whatever pauses necessary to piece together how things came to be as they are up there from an academic perspective, but carefully preserving the right to take the utmost tourist-y photos (much like others do at 1600 Pennsylvania). A breathtaking building it was indeed, & that was just the view from the street! I continued along my path, circumnavigating the center of the city which took me to Victoria Island & into the province of Quebec for a brief moment (although I was not aware of the provincial border at the time). Like my time in Niagara, I elected to skate from a southern bridge to a northern one, the latter being Alexandra bridge over the Ottawa River. What a special moment this turned out to be as my wheels clanked over the wooden boards of the bridge, seemingly to the dismay of the townspeople. I was not the least bit concerned for this harmless transgression, as I had been otherwise captivated by my backside view of Parliament sitting atop its hill. It felt as if I had been transported to Transylvania, & the Victorian edifice gave me a sense of passion for human ingenuity. I made it back to the HI Ottawa Jail Hostel, aligned my belongings, & requested a ride to the Ottawa Greyhound terminal to catch my bus to Montreal. Here is precisely where Francais surpassed English as the primary mode of communication for the foreseeable future. The beloved Quebecois are very proud of their Francophone heritage, as it is the written language on road signs & nearly all signage everywhere (with a distinctive lower regard for English).

Arrival in Montreal occurred after the couple-hour bus ride. Immediately I was made aware of the foothold in normalcy that the French language commanded there, mainly because everything was in French (& not always in English). Outside the bus station, during my coordination with my Airbnb host, multiple homeless individuals approached me in search of loose change or a cigarette. This would be otherwise unworthy of mention had it not been for their guttural requests being in a language outside of English; I remember finding it striking to conceive a natively French-speaking bum whose domain I was now a guest in. My stuff & I made yet another march to the place I would come to call a temporary home- the apartment of Alix & Marion. I was mid-toke when my host, Alix, motioned to me to come to the stairs at the foot of the door & take my entry. A simple ‘bonjour,’ we greeted each other with, & I demonstrated to her that I would prefer to speak in her primary language in an effort to sharpen my own ear & mouth, to which she gladly agreed. The remainder of our exchanges over roughly the next 48 hours took place in Francais, with varying degrees of contextual & vernacular depth. The common Montrealaise person is a French-speaker with a veritable accent when they switch to English. As the old addage goes, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. I met this challenge to navigate a new cityscape & probe its peoples in an embracing way with occasional angst, constant excitement, & most profoundly with a thirst for knowledge.

My goods were locked away in my room, I had just showered, so I grabbed my board & set sail in search of the city’s lifebloods. Beginning in Chinatown (which usually tends to be either exactly or nearby places I stay in cities), I opted to head west in search of Le Plateau & Mile’s End, sections of the town celebrated for the globality & execution of their cuisinieres. Some poutine boeuf hache from Main Deli on Rue Ste. Laurent seemed the right call, & turned out better than my imagination had guessed. From Mile’s End southward I was bound, seeking to lay eyes upon L’Universite de Montreal. Little did I know it was set atop one of the many tiers of Mt. Royal at the city’s center. Getting there was rather trying, but the views of Quebec’s largest city at night from the campus, coupled with the exhilaration of board-bombing down the occasional hill, left little to be desired & much to be remembered. Further south of the University lied L’Oratoire de St. Joseph (St. Joseph’s Oratory), a Catholic-driven destination featuring towering stained-glass windows, a gathering hall for services that rivaled the most Mormon of Tabernacles, along with a balcony’s viewpoint all its own. After struggling to find the exit from the Oratory, I found it in my best interest to begin the journey back to my bed. A complete encircling of Mt. Royal park was supposed to cap the day’s adventure as night had already befallen hours before. Perhaps fate had other plans in mind.

My phone had been rendered useless at this point, & I had little more than my intelligence to rely on to get me back home. Unfortunately, my mental capacity had waned significantly over the course of the day’s doings, & over the next 2 or 3 hours I could be plainly seen wandering somewhat aimlessly from roadside map to roadside map. The outcome of being well off-track was spectacular, however. I cannot help but feel I got to experience the city in a different & daring light. Half of me wanted to return home, & the other half wanted to investigate each eye-catching facet; more often than not, I let the need to investigate prevail & tacked some formidable mileage onto the invisible odometer of my skateboard throughout the night. After some much-needed guidance from a man walking & a bus driver, I was able to piece together just enough of my surroundings to locate 1223 Rue Ste. Elisabeth. Before heading home, I stopped into an Indian restaurant called SpiceBoys, where I requested tandoori chicken with curry rolled into naan bread. The only problem was that their card terminal was unable to accept any of my debit or credit cards, & so, with one stroke of effortless Indian-Canadian kindness, I was gifted a hearty dinner for the night free of charge. With the help of daylight, the next day I uncovered that I had thoroughly explored Downtown Montreal (via Rue Ste. Catherine), the Red-Light District, the Quartier Latin (Latin Quarter), & the Quartier des Spectacles (Entertainment District). I crept back into the apartment, which creaked with every floorboard, into my room & resigned to fatigue.

DAY 6 - 3/19 - 8.64 miles

I remained asleep in my quarters for the morning’s entirety, having groveled thirteen hours through the mandatory regeneration of my body & mind. Near this time I had an extended conversation with my hostess in which I requested to place my bags there after check-out the following day & attached reasoning to the request… completely in Francais! She was more than accommodating. Awakened & thoughts of the night prior still scrambling my brain, I showered (peeling skin off myself for the vast majority of time in the water), clothed myself in some hot shit, & set out to cross the St. Lawrence River. The cartographic struggles that were now in the past (plus a charged phone) helped me immensely in getting to my desired destinations in the coming days. I set out southward on Boulevard Rene-Levesque seeking to hit Griffintown & St. Henri before taking the Wellington Street bridge over to the L’isle de Ste. Helene (St. Helen Island). The riverfront at Sq. St. Patrick was an intoxicating mixture of sights & sounds; inlaid with a frozen stream, industrious (sometimes abandoned) infrastructure, & graffiti/street art that seamlessly colorized a scene already full of vibrance made for a quite memorable portion. At the point where most individuals had turned back due to the icy paths & an increasingly disinviting ambience, I progressed under Highway 10. On a route I was positive few or none had taken before, I stood roadside at dusk having to think intensely upon my next move & if it was the correct one. Wrong ones were made, gloves were dropped, but in time & effort I was able to find Avenue Pierre-Dupuy.

For a handful of kilometers, I skated along the shipyard gazing upon the city that I had been so immersed in & with. I was trying to practice kicking & pushing in the ‘goofy’ stance, so that I could face the spectacles & not apartment complexes (to mild avail). Before I knew it, I reached Parc Dieppe (Dieppe Park), a park on the north tip of the Cite du Havre & the starting point of the Pont de la Concorde (Concord Bridge). I would begin crossing without giving myself the time to let fear fester. Cars sped by at a half-meter’s length as my wheels rolled over tidbits of gravel, & more present in my mind, over a large body of water. I recall taking a few moments of pause at the bridge’s midpoint to survey my surroundings, & beautifully dominating they were. Humbled I felt, truly. As if my existence equated to a ripple in the river below, & with my individual ripple I can become a hurricane, or mud. The end of the bridge was a comforting sight.

To reach L’isle de Ste. Helene was the goal for the day & having gotten off the east end of the Pont de la Concorde, I was finally there. A long walk up the eastern coast of the island awaited me & was met with a heart teeming with adventure. Here I had time alone. With no other humans nearby, I let my mind run wild with thoughts of the trip to this point & how, in the grand scheme of things, I felt I was at where I should be; perhaps not geographically as one’s physical station is usually inconsequential. But in my mental state I was home, & home alone at that. Onward & northward I strode through the Parc Jean-Drapeau, laying eyes upon the ‘Biosphere’- a spherical structure on the island meant to champion ecology. Trees & ice accompanied me on the brisk walk to the north end of the island. There, Pont Jacques-Cartier (Jacques Cartier Bridge) awaited me in all of its steel beam splendor. Thankfully, the lanes of traffic & the pedestrian walkway had a divider between them, as well as a protective gate on the side where one might otherwise go overboard. This was all I needed to hop back on my board & skate my weathered boots over the St. Lawrence for the last time. On the bridge there were workers toiling away & the dazzling light sequence of the bridge itself made for a surreal experience. In the distance I could see the bridge, lit in rainbow colors, that I had crossed merely an hour or two before this new bridge that served as my current vantage point. Thoughts on the ephemerality of my existence at large (exemplified by having been way over yonder ‘then’ & here ‘now’) & the absolute need for self-belief against a vacuum of chance pervaded my tiny brain. The Pont Jacques-Cartier provided a special moment in my life that I can attest to having been rarely duplicated before. For reasons beyond me, I shed a tear & smoked a bowl before getting off.

Once off, I felt my way through Gay Village & back down into the Quartier Latin where I stopped for dinner at a quaint, but busy, Napoli Pizzeria. The owner was Italian. The waiter too. Both spoke Italian, English, & French, but after a while a Mexican family of 6 on vacation from Monterrey was seated, & the working duo displayed their aptitude in the Spanish language as well, going so far as to tell jokes anecdotally. I grinned & shared in the aura of the exchange, although I likely resembled a dirty drifter in the corner. Coming from such worldly humans, naturally the smoked salmon pizza topped with capers & onions was not lacking in the least bit. So, I ordered a large box for take-out after munching away the smaller portion & took my leave. On the way home, I stopped at a Second Cup Coffee Co. location & had a brief verbal volley with the barista in request of a cheesecake. He complimented my accent when speaking French, & even likened it to that of a French person (maybe meaning not Quebecois), despite glaring difficulties in my comprehension & rebuttals. Riding an emotional (& literal) high during the descent of a simply remarkable day of jam-packed novelty & sensation in all forms (sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touches, introspection), I returned to the apartment for my last full night in the region.

DAY 7 - 3/20 - 2.42 miles

My time in Montreal was now nearing an end, & I began to hold thoughts of coming home in high regard. When the sluggishness of sleep washed away in the shower (insert skin peeling of the largest proportions here), I readied my luggage & cleaned my temporary room as best as I could to eliminate all signs of a horrific sunburn & accompanying cranial gash. With the green light from my hostesses to store my luggage in the apartment until the night’s 10:50 bus ride to Plattsburgh, NY, I was intent upon checking off the last few Montreal-bound goals that remained. This came chiefly in the form of a desire to reach the Mt. Royal lookout in order to take in the city-sphere from its namesake mountain. Originally, I had intended to skateboard there from the apartment, but after a few blocks of dousing rain, I called an Uber to scoop me up (after finding out that Lyft doesn’t yet operate in Quebec) & take me. The friendly Uber driver, Vincent, let me out at the drivable point closest to the Chateau Mont Royal, & didn’t hesitate to call me crazy for being there in such ferocious conditions. He pointed me in the proper direction which was aided by a fellow human headed toward the same spot as myself. Precipitation worsened as the half-mile March was underway, but it was worth every goosebump & raindrop once I reached the outlook.

A dreary backdrop of low-hanging, gray clouds & the smell of rain caressed the skyline’s perimeter in a way that rang true & imprinted upon me a stunningly naked Montreal. An intimate version of the city it was, gripped by the unknown like the rest of the world, yet resilient enough for entrepreneurialism to survive in pockets. Having already been to many of the places now set in my sight made the moment all the more fulfilling & full circle. A naive feeling of having ‘conquered’ the city laid bare before me was soon supplanted by the revelation of the realer self-conquest. Half-frozen water panging my face & wind gusts pulling & pushing without cease proved no match for the firmness I had found, in feet & fortitude. This was the quintessential culmination of the week I endured, & one one-hundred percent befitting of such a voyage.

I made my escape of Mount Royal with haste before my inadequate (but stylish) clothing proved a fatal error. Originally, I had the notion to return to Main Deli because my last meal there was so damn good, but in the moment I opted for Schwartz’s Deli across the street in the name of variety. A heaping steak sandwich slatted between two tiny slices of wheat with mustard proved to be the house specialty, & was served less than a minute after being ordered… It was alright. Homeward bound with a full stomach, I decided to walk into a store that I had held in the back of my mind after passing by my first day there, Cul-de-Sac. This place was happening! The owner of the store was gracious in her conversation as I browsed. I eventually confessed my inspiration(s) gained from her shop (& plans to recreate in a respectful, homage-paying manner). We spoke at length about various topics, from our being of parents, to our being of owners of similar retail operations, to her allegiance to Quebec & not the whole of Canada. In fact, she was the foremost messenger of the separatist mentality that the people of the Quebec province displayed, on their countenance & in their conduct. I purchased a few of the items in her shop, she threw me some good stuff for free, & we wished well upon each other at my exit. That was the last recreational stop in Montreal, & soon thereafter I retreated to the Quartier des Spectacles to acquire my things. I was graced with the time to charge my phone & rest my bones for about 45 minutes. It was during this time that a cherished exchange between myself, Alix, & Marion (a hostess with whom I’d only spoken with via Airbnb messaging up to this point) occurred. It had become expected that I was asked what I did with my day, & that is how the chat began. I explained the day’s travels, thanked the duo for being a source of comfort & ease at the beginnings & ends of trying days. I also thanked them for putting up with my butchering of their language (as each inhabitant of the apartment was from France) for the sake of practice, which they met befuddled & were quick to praise my ability to communicate/intonate in their complicated speech. They even went so far as to say that my speaking has a native’s accent & were super appreciative of my having taught myself over the last couple years. A mutual encounter I cannot help but feel it was, & I remain grateful for their pleasant & inviting demeanors. I climbed down the long stairwell of 1223 Rue Ste. Elisabeth once & for all & signaled for Uber to take me to the Longueil Metro.

I had arrived at the bus station with plenty of time to spare, having somewhat learned the errors of my ways. I was serious about not wanting to cut anything close with such little time left for my returning flight home. I waited patiently at my gate for my bus to arrive & whisk me away back to the states for my 2:59 AM flight out of Plattsburgh, New York (Upstate). Sadly, the bus’s arrival time came & went, & at the mention of the ticketing booth agent, I waited another 45 minutes for it. Having received no notification of cancellation from the bussing company, no accurate updates on the whereabouts of the bus, & minute after minute shaving away from takeoff time, I was forced to call an Uber to pick me up from the metro station & take me to the border- this cost one-hundred Canadian dollars. We stopped at an ATM, grabbed some snacks, & finally Ridaha & I were on our way. A fruitful & insightful chat aided us along the drive, & I was able to disentangle much French from this nice Tunisian man. An hour passed & we arrived at the U.S. border.

As the car pulled up to the border, U.S. Customs agents ordered repeatedly for my driver’s documentation. A brief argument between an unsuspecting Ridaha & an extremely serious officer took place. The very odd circumstances were eventually explained, Ridaha was directed to make a U-turn & head home while I exited the vehicle, grabbed my bags, & headed to the border patrol substation. It was there that I was informed that I would need to call a cab (as Uber wasn’t functioning in this particular location), but to complicate matters drastically, the taxi services weren’t doing the ‘border run’ that night. My heart fell into my stomach, & I had entered a phase of worry that I had yet to reach at any point along the trip. Thankfully, one Officer Burdette walked me to the West Service Road behind the U.S. Border Patrol & Customs Champlain Station & pointed in the direction of the nearest place still open- a Peterbilt truck stop about a half mile down a pitch-black road. He also made it a point to mention that if I attempted to hitchhike on main Highway 87, I would be arrested. This oh so tangible road brought with it intangible emotion after emotion as I grappled with triumph & failure, each still hanging in the balance. It had become very important outside of my own ambitions for me to make the plane & get home, & I was purely keen to not have loved ones worry about my wellbeing any longer. A frantic mixture of skating & speed-walking got me to the Peterbilt stop, & by the grace of God, the taxi company agreed to send out a driver for me & get me to the airport from this largely equidistant pick-up point. While I waited in freezing temperatures in an Eddie Bauer peacoat on the side of the road at the smallest hour, another group of U.S. Customs agents spotted me & sought to question my being there. They asked for identification & reasoning to which I was forthcoming. They wished me well & left.

Thirty minutes later, a portly man of sound intelligence & world view taxied me to the Plattsburgh International Airport (after having stopped at an ATM for cash to pay him). I entered the empty airport at 2:30 AM for my 2:59 AM flight with the driver’s assurance that I’ll be able to get right through TSA & onto the plane. More than sadly, he was mistaken. The Spirit Airlines attendant had vacated his post thirty minutes before takeoff to aid the onboarding crew, as per policy, of course. I rushed up to the barren TSA line & inquired about my chances of getting on the plane. They responded that the flight door had already been closed, & that it was now an impossibility for me to board. Needless to say, it was now impossible for me to get home on time, too. I felt I had fallen just short of a buzzer-beating victory that I had already affirmed to those who had expressed concern. I had begun to list the many variables that could have gone differently to get me on to that flight: 1) why didn’t my bus in Longueil show up or even notify me of cancellation? 2) why didn’t I deem the bus ride a lost cause sooner & get an Uber sooner? 3) why did we have to stop at an ATM so off-route when leaving Montreal? 4) Couldn’t they have held me & my driver up a bit less at the border? 5) Why couldn’t the taxi agency send someone a half-mile further than where they would eventually come to pick me up? 6) Why did this portly man with a good view of the world have to drive the speed limit? Would he have driven faster if I didn’t entertain his subjects? 7) Why the fuck does the agent at the airline counter leave the counter thirty minutes before a flight is scheduled to take off?

When the airline attendant did return, he was sympathetic to my cause & willing to help find a solution. Employing a similar program to the one used at the beginning of the trip, he was able to book the exact flight for the following day free of charge. This eased me greatly. Questions & doubt lingered, but I soon picked my chin up & hopped in another cab headed for the America’s Best Value Inn. This would be my impromptu safe haven on this frigid Friday night, & I checked in at 3:30 AM.

DAY 8 - 3/21 - 0 miles

Today is my sister’s & my aunt’s shared birthday. I wished dearly to be home by now next to my daughter, & to begin decompressing the week’s peaks & valleys. Yet, here I sit in the lobby of the cheap motel I spent last night in. I’ve been in the same chair since 1:15 PM, & it is now 12:49 AM (with the exception of a few bathroom/water breaks & a brief standing up to accept ordered wings & garlic bread). This unexpected & obligation-less window in time was spent formulating this transcript of a vacation I can confidently say will come to prove formative as life presses on. One not soon to be forgotten, nor the lessons gained therein forsaken. My flight to Las Vegas via Fort Lauderdale, Florida & Dallas, Texas is due to leave in a couple hours. With my lack of punctuality deeply ingrained, I resolve to close this memoir in saying that the constant struggle with mortality across Earth & in minds amidst these troubling waters was on full display in every city & each individual’s expression. Death and Disease on the tongues of the media & man the world over, but life itself (outside of the biological & inside of the metaphorical sense) is to be explored & discovered lovingly… never to be shied away from or merely sustained. With our collectively restricted circumstances reaching a fever pitch in what people can & cannot, should & should not, will & will not do, I resolve to digress & remain profoundly thankful for love, safety, health & home.

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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A survey about surveys. 1 - What’s your favourite type of survey to take? The kind with random and interesting questions. I like ones that allow me to elaborate, ramble, and vent opposed to just straight yes or no. And more than just the basic questions. Ones with categories or themes, like this one, are cool as well.

2 - What about your least favourite? Do you ever take these anyway if you can’t find anything else? I don’t like bolding or shuffle surveys.

3 - Do you have a favourite survey maker? How long have you been following their blog for? @ohsh1t2wksl8 , who I’ve been following that and her other blog for several months now and @lets-make-surveys, who made this survey, I followed just recently. I had another favorite that I followed for a long time, but they disappeared like year or two ago. :( I forget their name now. Ooh, and @tickle-my-pickle provided a ton of fun Christmas surveys, and they have a couple New Year’s ones now as well.

4 - Do you ever get surveys from somewhere that isn’t Tumblr? What other sites do you like to use for finding surveys? When I can’t find any to do on here, which isn’t too common anymore, I go to LiveJournal.

5 - Do you like to take surveys at a particular time of day? Yeah, they’re part of my nighttime routine.

6 - Do you have a favourite location to take surveys - eg. on your bed or in the living room? I’m always in bed doing them.

7 - How often would you say you took surveys? Do you go through phases of taking loads and then stopping for a while? Oh, I typically take several a day. I may skip a couple or days or so, but it’s pretty rare. I’d say I’m pretty consistent. Also, I’ve been taking surveys longggg before Tumblr.

8 - Do you like to watch TV or listen to music while you take surveys? I listen to ASMR while taking them.

9 - Have you ever taken surveys with another person before? Back in the Myspace days I sometimes did one with my cousin if he was over. But I like doing surveys by myself, they’re like my diary and time to vent and ramble and whatnot.

10 - Do people in real life know you take surveys? If not, would you be embarrassed if someone found out about your blog? I’ve had friends and cousins who knew back in the day, but no one knows about this blog and I’d like to keep it that way.

11 - Do you often have something to eat and drink next to you while you take surveys? I always have water bottles on my bedside table, but I often have a Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink as well when I take surveys. I’m a very routine person and if I have one of those it’s later after dinner and I take hours to finish them cause I’m a super slow eater and drinker, so I still have it to sip on when I’m doing my nighttime routine. I don’t eat anything while taking surveys.

12 - What kind of chair or surface do you find yourself sitting on the most when you take them? I take them in bed.

13 - Have you ever taken surveys at work before? Well, no. I’ve never had a job.

14 - Do you prefer doing surveys on a laptop, a phone or another device? I only take them on my laptop.

15 - What kind of surveys would you like to see more of? What about less of? More random and interesting ones. I’m glad I’m still able to find any to do since I’ve been doing them for so long, ha.

16 - Have you ever discovered new bands, TV shows or anything through reading other people’s surveys? Yeah.

17 - Do you like to read other people’s answers? Are there some people whose blogs you always check? Yes. There’s a few of you whose surveys I like to read. I feel like we’ve gotten to know each other a lot through our surveys even if we don’t necessarily talk. I’m still rooting for and supporting ya’ll. (: I’m here lurkin’ haha.

18 - Have you ever taken a survey while drunk or high? Yes.

19 - Have you ever attempted the 5,000 question survey? Did you ever finish or did you find yourself getting bored part-way through? Yes. It’s been several months since the last time I did any of it. It has taken me quite awhile to get through it. The questions just get overwhelming for me. They’re too much and sometimes require way more thinking and creativity than I can do haha. I’m actually almost done with it, though, so perhaps I’ll finally get through it eventually.

20 - What first got you into taking surveys? I somehow came across someone doing them on Xanga, I think.

21 - How old were you (roughly) when you first started taking them? I think I was 14.

22 - What’s the reason behind you taking surveys? It started for entertainment purposes, something to do when I was bored and to pass time. Overtime I really go into them and it became more than that. I genuinely like taking them. They’re like diary entries for me. It prompts and gives me space to vent and ramble. I’m also able to go back and read them if I want. It makes me sad all the surveys from my Xanga an Myspace days are gone. It would have been quite interesting to go back and read those. They also get me thinking about things. It helps as a distraction. They’ve just become part of my routine and I look forward to doing them.

23 - What’s one thing that would put you off taking or finishing a survey? If the questions were just too weird and annoying.

24 - In your opinion, what’s the ideal length for a survey? Would you not bother taking a survey if you thought it was too short or too long? I like when they’re at least 30 questions. I enjoy longer ones as well. I don’t like when they’re less than 20.

25 - Do you answer questions using proper spelling and grammar? Yes.

26 - Do you prefer questions that require long answers or are you happy to take yes/no surveys? Like I said, I like when I can elaborate more and not just a straight yes or no. Those get boring.

27 - Is there a specific style of survey that you’ve never taken before? Hm. I’m not sure. I feel like I’ve done them all.

28 - What kind of surveys would you like to see in the future? That could be in terms of style or category or anything, really? Like I said, more random and interesting ones. Keep ‘em comin.

29 - Have you ever shared your surveys with friends and family on social media? Back in the Myspace days I actually posted them as bulletins. I can’t believe that because they’re so personal to me now.

30 - Do you find that time goes by quickly or slowly when you take surveys? It helps pass the time.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #a survey about surveys

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prorevenge · 5 years

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Found my girlfriend was cheating on me with a close friend, so I had him arrested and ghosted her.

TL:DR will be at the bottom but hold onto your hats, this is going to be a long one.

Backstory (incoming sadness)

My wife Rachel and I grew up in a largish town of close to 30,000 people. We knew each other at an early age (roughly 6 or 7, can’t specifically remember). We were practically inseparable. At 16, we started dating each other. When we turned 18, we moved away for work in a city just a few hours drive away. By 20, we were married and had bought our first house. At 22, we discovered that she was pregnant with a boy. It was then disaster struck.

About 5 weeks before she was due to go on maternity leave, a large shelving unit collapsed and crushed her. I was told that both her and our child were killed instantly. Two of her colleagues had also been injured in the accident, one left paralyzed, the other loosing his leg after it had to be amputated. The company she was working for, had in a cost cutting measure, decided to continue using old shelving that had been written off as unsafe instead of replacing it. I still haven’t quiet forgiven those executives and management personnel that made that decision, because they cut short the love of my life as well as killing our unborn child.

It wasn’t long after I was told I had a ‘choice’ on how to proceed with what her company called “compensation”, but I called it blood money. They wanted to settle out of court to avoid a lawsuit. I, on the other hand, was out for their blood. [Just to clarify here, this is not the revenge, this is still backstory]. Fortunately, due to the coverage that it got, and involving several politicians, the case was settled quickly in court (roughly 3 years) in which the payout for all parties was close to 10 times the amount that they had initially offered. A lot of fines were given to them for breaches on work, health and safety, executives were sacked, others were jailed, etc. [A story for another time maybe, when I feel comfortable sharing.]

In this time, I was still working my job in telecommunications. My mother, bless her soul, had moved in while all this was happening to help me. I think I would have fallen apart if she hadn’t been as involved as she was. It was around this time, I was offered a promotion, but it involved a lot of travel around the state. I made a request to have an office in my home towns branch, as I wanted to not only take care of businesses in the state, but in my home town also as there was no business representative located there to which they agreed. After a few months, we settled into a routine of one to two weeks in the city office, one week in my hometown and one to two weeks visiting the rest of the state. After a year, I decided to buy a house in my hometown, so I wasn’t having to stay at my parent’s place every week or so that I was home and that I could come and go as I pleased. This is important for later in the story.

It is about 4 years later that our story begins. (Sorry if the backstory was a bit long)

I had just returned from one of my trips on Friday, and was checking in some stuff at my office when Harry, the branch’s managing director, walked in. We had grown up together also, but had gone to different schools but since coming back had developed a very close friendship. He asked how things were, and then asked me if I wanted to come to a house party that he was having that evening. Short notice and all, but I said yes. I felt like a few drinks with friends were in order. It was there that Harry introduced me to Katherine. She was a new hire at the branch where my hometowns office was located and was getting to know everyone being new in town. We hit it off immediately. As much of a cliché as it sounds, it was almost as if Rachel was in front of me, instead of Katherine.

I won’t bore you too much with the details, but after 2 years of dating, we decided to take the next step and she moved into my hometowns house. Everything up to this point had been going really well. Katherine and my parent’s got along and Rachel’s parents also approved and were happy that someone could make me just as happy as Rachel had done. All was going well for close to a year when things began to change. Skype sessions were cut short suddenly, neighbours would tell me about how a car, described to me like it was Harry’s, was always seen parked in the back alley near my house whenever I was away, some clothes that weren’t mine were in my wardrobe. All signs pointed to her cheating, but she said that nothing was happening. She said that Harry would come over occasionally to discuss business, etc, but never stayed the night. I chalked it up to me being paranoid and continued on as if nothing was wrong, but there was always this feeling that something wasn’t right.

It was close to 6 months after that I discovered that she had been lying to me. I had just finished closing a rather large contract with a new company and negotiations had wrapped up earlier than I had anticipated. So instead of sticking around for the next few days, I decided to pay for an early flight home and surprise everyone. Fast forward a few hours and I drive into my hometown and down the alley behind my house so that I could get into the house without being seen and surprise Katherine. Some part of me was curious however as to whether this mystery car was there.

Sure enough, there was a car that was blocking the back entrance gate. I was confused for a moment wondering if it had just been a neglectful neighbor parking only to realize that it was indeed Harry’s car. If it hadn’t been for the high hedge line that I had put in a few years back for privacy, I may have well driven past my own place. Pulling up behind his car, I got out and thought it was strange that he was there so late. As she claimed that he always had left by now. As I approached the back of the house I saw something that stomach drop. In my kitchen, Katherine and Harry were going at it hammer and tong. I froze. Time stopped. There was my close friend, having sex on my kitchen bench with my girlfriend.

I didn’t know what to do. So many questions where running through my head. Was this real or was I dreaming? Why were they having sex in my house? Feeling defeated, I turned and left without them seeing me. I sat in my car for what felt like an eternity. I was crying. Hard. But the sadness quickly turned into anger. The same kind of anger I felt towards those that were responsible for Rachel’s death. I wanted to hurt them. Badly. As a pacifist, I don’t believe in violence. It was then I knew I was going to punish them and destroy their lives. And what better time to start than now.

I moved my car back up the alley, far enough away from my driveway that I could still see Harry’s car, and then walked back to the gate where I could see into the house, and called her phone. They were still going for it when it rang. They both looked at the Caller ID and did a double take when my name came up. I could see that she was considering answering it and they let it ring out. After a few moments they were back into it again and I dialed once again. This time she did answered. As she was answering I hung up and made my way back to my car. As soon as I did, she called me back. She asked why I was calling as late as I was, and I told her that I was about 10 minutes from home and didn’t want to scare her coming in. She, obviously, was shocked and acted happy that I was coming and the call ended very quickly after she said she was going to get up and get changed into something. I said bye and hung up.

A few moments later, Harry came peeling through the gate and still half naked, jumped into his car took off like a bat out of hell. I smiled a little, knowing the fear that both of them would be feeling from being so close to being caught. I waited a few moments before turning my car into the same place Harry had been moments earlier. The night was fairly uneventful afterwards and It wasn’t until after she was asleep, that I got up and went to my office down the hall. I couldn’t sleep. I needed to plan. And plan I did.

The Revenge

My mother always taught me to be a pacifist and to allow cosmic karma to take its course. But on this occasion, I decided that karma could use a helping hand. I decided to punish them separately but destroy both of them. I knew that Harry had a drug habit. Nothing major, but he kept it very private. I only knew about it accidently after seeing some coke and weed left out in his place but pretended I hadn’t seen it when he had made attempts to cover it up. I began calling some of my more unsavoury clientele and made a few discreet enquiries into obtaining some samples that they were willing to part with. A few days later, I had a decent enough stash for my plan to work. About a month later, I had friends, including Harry around for a barbeque night. After making sure that I sufficiently liquored up Harry, I told him to stay the night and sleep it off.

In the early hours of that morning, I took the drugs, and an assortment of my personal belongings, and placed them at various places around his car, with the biggest stash in his tyre well. Confident that he wouldn’t find them over the few months as the rest of my plan took affect, I locked the car up and went inside to sleep. I also placed some more drugs and personal items in his house after driving him home because he was still to drunk to drive. A few days later, I staged a break in, by smashing the back pane of my back door into my kitchen and leaving it open before heading back to the city for a flight. I had several messages the moment I landed. One from my clearly panicked mum, who had found the back door smashed open and had called the police, one from Katherine in tears, and one from the local police asking me to call. After returning all the calls, I informed the police I was away on business, and that I would be back the following week to talk with them.

While away, I got Katherine to stay with my parents until after I got back, and asked my Dad to organize one of the local security companies to install cameras and an alarm system after getting the go ahead from the police as to not ruin the scene of the crime. After getting home, I did the usual ‘my God I can’t believe this has happened’ and ‘why would anyone do this?’ routine. After doing a thorough check of everywhere, ‘finding’ that the items I had taken were ‘missing’ and filing a police report, I had the security companies rep talk Katherine and I through how the cameras and alarm system worked.

Then came the question I had been waiting for. The question of what happens if we are doing some business and don’t want it recorded. She acted a bit shy asking this question. But I knew exactly the reason she was asking. He assured us that this was a question he got asked a lot, and we were shown on the home computer, if we wanted to be doing things without it being recorded, how to stop the recording for certain camera’s, so that we could protect her modesty. As I was walking him out, I asked him if camera’s were turned off, could a notification be sent out, just as a security precaution. He came back in and helped me through how to set up email notifications and left shortly after. Fantastic. All I had to do was wait.

At this stage, I approached r/legaladvice for some help in relation to couples law in my country. I needed to make sure that my upcoming plan could legally be done and that I would not be forced to pay out any money or equity to Katherine as I didn’t know if we were classified as a De Facto couple or not. Being the sole benefactor of Rachel’s estate, I didn’t want to be left with any nasty surprises where Katherine could take any of the estate away from me. Shout out to those guys and gals there as they helped me get in contact with a great lawyer who assured me, due to the fact that although we had been dating for close to 4 years, we had not been living together long enough to be classified as De Facto, and because I was paying all the utilities on the property that she was living in and didn’t pay rent, showed that she had no legal standing to make a financial claim against me. Just to be sure though, he drew up what I felt was a pretty ironclad document just in case there was any legal trouble.

The following week, my work had approached me, and offered me a promotion to move back to the city and run the team that I was a part of, meaning I wouldn’t need to travel as often and be in the one location and due to the success of being located in my hometown, that they were considering having 3 to 5 representatives spend one to two weeks in the larger surrounding towns including my hometown as a part of my team. I said yes, and began the process of beginning my transfer, which would take about 6 weeks. Perfect. More than enough time to gather all my evidence.

Upon getting back to my hometown the following week, I began to start in motion the rest of my plan. I asked Harry to approve one weeks worth of vacation for Katherine for two weeks time. I wanted to send her and a friend or two away on a retreat before I made the biggest decision of my life for a second time. He jumped up and gave me a huge hug, congratulating me on being prepared to take the leap again. I hugged him back tight, but not the way I think he imagined it at the time. He agreed and blocked out the week for me. I asked him not to say anything to anyone, as I wanted to make it as big a surprise as I could. I knew, that it would spread like wildfire around the office regardless, but that was my plan.

That night, I told Katherine that I had booked her and two friends to go to a tropical spa resort, all expenses paid for a week. No questions asked, pick two friends, and come back to the biggest surprise of her life. She screamed like a kid who had just been told that all the candy in the shop was hers to have.

I then told her that the following week, I was going to spend it in the city, preparing for a large client who was one of my biggest accounts, and needed some people in my team to help before flying out the following week and I wouldn’t be home until the Monday that she was leaving, so I wouldn’t be able to see her, which seemed to disappoint her, but I told her it would be worth it when she returned. What I failed to tell her, was that I had decided to take 2 weeks vacation on the other side of the country, mentally preparing myself for the shit storm that was about to erupt the moment she stepped foot on the plane as well as enjoying my first stage of freedom.

On Sunday two weeks later, I flew back and began driving home. Once getting there I done a quick pass by my house and sure enough, Harry’s car was there. Like the first night I had caught them, I parked a little way’s back, and checked the cameras. Asleep, in my bed. No surprise honestly as I had recorded them constantly do this over the 2 weeks I had been away. I then made my first call to the police blocking my caller id. I told them that I was one of my neighbours and saw someone hanging around in their car in the alley behind my house and occasionally passing something through windows to passing cars while also looking into my yard and I was concerned that they were dealing drugs and or going to break into someone’s property. I gave them his license plate and description. They said they would have someone there in a few minutes so I thanked them and hung up.

I then called Katherine and told her I was about 10 minutes from home, and that I knew she was flying out tomorrow, but desperately wanted to surprise her. Looking back at the footage now, I laugh at the commotion that I am surprised I didn’t hear. In a few short seconds, Harry was half dressed and flying out the back door to his car. At that point, I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect scene. As Harry was peeling away, one of the police cars rounded the corner behind me, saw Harry driving away fast, and gave chase.

After pulling in, greeting an excited Katherine, and doing all the couple things, she fell asleep again. I, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep a wink. The next day, her and her friends were bundled into a car. After they drove away, I had to wait a few hours, but I began to execute my plan. I called my friend who was a removalist, and apologized for the late notice but needed my place packed and moved on Friday. After agreeing on a time I told him that he would need to take certain boxes to a storage facility, which he said wasn’t and issue. Then I began packing Katherine’s belongings.

Later that day, I got a call from the police for me to come and identify some property that they had apprehended from a suspect the previous night that fit the description of property I had reported stolen. I grinned to myself, happy that my plan for Harry had grown to fruition and replied that I would be there shortly to collect it. Of course, when I got there, some of the items where still unaccounted for, due to the fact that they must have still been in his house and they hadn’t searched there yet. By this stage, the town was buzzing with news. Events in my hometown don’t stay secret for long. Harry was disgraced and promptly fired for his possession of drugs and stolen property, and our respective bosses on behalf of the company had extended a formal apology towards me during the week.

That night I went to my parents house and told both mine and Rachel’s parents what had happened, omitting certain details, and that I was moving back to the city after being promoted, but Katherine wouldn’t be a part of it. They were pretty upset initially that I hadn’t let them know what was going on, but were happy that I was handling everything maturely and hadn’t sunk to their level, thought they didn’t agree with ghosting Katherine. But after some drinks, laughs and tears, I went home.

On Friday afternoon, after a busy week of organizing cleaners for the following week, the real estate to put my house on the rental market, and various other tasks at my hometowns office, I packed some things into my car, and drove to my parents place and said goodbye before the drive. Before leaving, I went to Becky’s house. Becky had been one of Rachel’s closest friends growing up. She was the only other person who knew that knew what was happening, minus the details about Harry. Without her help, I wouldn’t have been able to organize everything as quickly as I had. I gave Becky a large manila folder with my gathered evidence of her cheating, as well as the letter and a few other legal documents from my attorney stating that she was ordered not to contact me, and the details of how to access her belongings located at the storage unit I had rented out. After a quick goodbye, I left and drove back to the city.

On Sunday, I woke up to several missed calls, voice messages and text messages. Turns out, Katherine had come home early after being alerted to something being afoot in town, only to find an empty house and a for rent sign out the front. Freaking out, she had gone to my parent’s, who closed the door on her the moment that they answered, forcing her to call everyone until she managed to somehow be contacted by Becky and told that she had a package for her. I was told that she didn’t take to well to that, as I fully well knew at that point from the numerous angry texts and voice messages from her accusing me of setting up Harry, of being deceitful, etc. I was worried that she might show up at my front door, but nothing ever happened.

Five weeks later after leaving and been promoted, I write this out for you dear reader. Granted its long, and it took a few rewrites to shorten it down from my initial 14 pages (double what this story is now), but I feel that most of what I said was important enough for the story.

TL:DR, After my pregnant wife was killed in a workplace accident, I moved to back to my hometown and connected with a woman who after moving in with me, cheated on me with a close friend. I set him up to take the fall for drug possession and after sending her away on a spa retreat, rented out my house and left town for a promotion while exposing her as a cheater.

(source) story by (/u/ceolsean)

#prorevenge #by /u/ceolsean #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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ohblackdiamond · 4 years

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little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 1 of 29)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 part 20 part 21 part 22 part 23 part 24 part 25 part 26 part 27 part 28 part 29 Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort level, and Gene’s libido, this situation must be rectified. Sexswap fic.

Notes: This has been on the backburner pretty much since the quarantine started. I really wrestled with posting it at all since it’s a weird premise, and most of my fics have a more realistic bent, but I decided that if it perked me up while working remotely, eating ramen, and feeling like I was back in uni in all the worst ways (when was I in uni? why, during the Great Recession!)-- then maybe it’d perk someone else up, too. So here we are.

Gene really didn’t think too much of it at first when Paul vanished just after the tour. He didn’t take it personally, the way Peter did, and he didn’t get too quizzical about it like Ace did. The whole band was burnt-out on each other. The days where they had to share hotel rooms were gone, and the days where they wanted to share vacations were gone, too. Gene couldn’t pinpoint when it had gotten like that, and it made him a little regretful, sure, but it was just another inevitability. The Beatles had made it ten years before imploding, all those hurt egos just smushing together and screwing everything up. KISS had four years under its belt now, and already he could feel things faltering.

So maybe Paul was trying to ease all that via his disappearing act. Spend his tour break at home, probably with a bevy of girls lining up at his front porch, and come back refreshed and ready for another nine-month stretch with only a wall between him and his bandmates, assuming Ace and Peter didn’t tear a hole in it on a drunken whim. It made sense. The first time Paul didn’t return his phone call (the tinny sound of his $400 answering machine the only response), Gene wasn’t concerned. The second time, Gene assumed Paul had gone to a disco, or was spending the night at some chick’s house. The third time, Gene immediately called up Bill, who said he hadn’t heard from Paul, either.

That was cause for concern. Paul could, and did, blow off anybody but their manager. Still, Gene figured he’d give it one more day, and one more lay, before he started to investigate.

That was the plan, until he got his mail late one morning. There was always a fat stack of it. The actual sackfuls of fan mail would end up at some office, where a poor secretary was stuck stuffing envelopes with their pictures and a canned response. Sometimes a real sleuth would find his address, and he’d open those out of sheer novelty, when he had the chance, only to be disappointed when the writer turned out to be a twelve-year-old who’d spent his paper route money on several books of stamps, and mailed the same letter out to every Gene Simmons in the greater New York phone book. Every so often he’d get the good stuff, like a saucy letter from a college girl, with photos and pubic hair taped inside. “See you next time in Sacramento.” He never wrote them back, but he’d put the photos in a separate album from his conquests. Almost a hope chest of photos, there.

Gene thumbed through the newsletters and errant bills so quickly he nearly missed it. A glossy postcard, with Buckingham Palace on the front. It couldn’t have been a piece of fan mail, but he didn’t know anyone who’d bother writing him, either. He flipped it over out of curiosity. Weird.

He recognized the scratchy longhand before he got to the signature. Not that it took long. Thee address was almost lengthier than the postcard message.

“Gene—Do you know anything about curses? Write me back soon. Thanks, Paul.”

He called up Peter about it that afternoon, still baffled. He didn’t really think Peter would have any insight on it—Paul and Peter hadn’t been as close as they used to be, though that went for everyone—but he surprised him.

“I haven’t heard from him. I figured you had.” Peter was chewing gum as he spoke. Gene could hear the smacks through the receiver. “Why the fuck would he send you a postcard? You live closer to him than I do.”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Talking about curses…” Peter trailed. “Shit, I went over there last week. Didn’t call him up first, just thought I’d go over like I used to. I banged on the door and some chick came out and screamed at me to go away. I told her who I was and she just stared at me.”

“Paul doesn’t pick girls for brains.”

“It was kinda weird, though. Picky bastard usually gets blondes.”

“What, was she a brunette?”

“Yeah, real dark, curly hair—you don’t think he’s shacked up with her, do you? Some New Age type, turning him on to something funny? ’Cause he doesn’t usually want ’em sticking around, either, and I stopped by after lunch…”

Evidently, Peter paid more attention to Paul’s habits with girls than Gene ever had.

“I don’t know. Was she cute?”

“Yeah. She had nice tits.”

Of course she did. Gene rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

“I’m gonna look into this. I’ll let you know if I can’t get in touch with him.”

“Sure.” There was a slight hesitation. “Hey, thanks for calling me. I thought he was pissed at me or some shit. But I guess he’s pissed at everybody.”

Gene privately feared it was worse than that. If Paul had gotten a girlfriend, one serious enough he was ignoring everyone and everything else, even the looming tour, for her sake… well, that didn’t make sense, not unless she’d conned him into something. There were still plenty of cults and communes all over the place, the leftover remnants of disillusioned hippies. They’d join fringe churches or create their own religions and live in tents on the side of the road. He didn’t think Paul would have fallen into something like that, unless the girl had spruced it up with a bunch of psychobabble and talk therapy. Paul dug astrology and self-help, but it wasn’t something he’d trade his lifestyle for. Was it?

“I’ll find out. I’ll see you, Pete.”

He hung up, then dialed his chauffeur. An hour or so later, he was pulling up to Paul’s.

He told the chauffeur not to wait on him. If Paul was at his house, he’d make him drive him back. It turned out they weren’t Paul’s only visitors. Ahead of them, walking up the driveway, was a kid carrying two grocery bags, his bicycle parked in the grass.

Gene didn’t normally have an issue making his presence known. But he held back, curious. He wanted to see who would open the door—that supposed live-in girlfriend, some other chick, or Paul himself. As the chauffeur drove away, he hung back a bit, tucking himself behind a tree at the edge of the front of the house, near the front porch. The kid didn’t seem to notice.

He watched the kid—he was probably about eleven—ring the doorbell with his elbow. After a couple seconds, the door opened, a girl in a blue bathrobe walking out, shutting the door behind her. Gene recognized the bathrobe as one of Paul’s, though she filled it out better than he ever had. She wasn’t even wearing anything beneath it that he could tell, cleavage obvious, the loosely-tied bathrobe hiding none of it. Curly, dark hair—Gene wondered if this was the girlfriend, or bedmate, that Peter had seen earlier. No telling.

“How much was it?” she asked the kid.

“Eight twenty-five.”

“You have the receipt?”

The kid pulled out the receipt. The girl looked at it, nodded, then took a wallet from the pocket of Paul’s bathrobe, tugging out a couple bills.

“Here’s nine. Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” The kid paused. “I thought somebody famous was supposed to live here.”

“You thought wrong.” The girl took the two bags of groceries and turned back towards the door, trying to use her elbow to turn the knob. The kid was already back on his bicycle. As he kicked the stand up, he called back out to her over his shoulder.

“Hey, you gonna need groceries next week, too?”

“I hope not.” She set both bags on the front porch. The kid nodded, waving as he started down the driveway. The girl didn’t wave back, busy opening the door.

Now was Gene’s chance. He stepped out from behind the tree and walked to the front porch as the girl picked up one of the grocery bags again.

“Hey.”

She turned around immediately. Her eyes got big.

“Shit—Gene!”

She recognized him. That didn’t narrow it down. She looked familiar, somehow—she wasn’t a Playmate, Gene always recognized those—maybe a model, or a groupie? But Paul didn’t bring those home. Gene raised a finger to his mouth.

“Shh. Look, I’m here to see Paul. Is he in?”

“Wh—no. No, sorry.” A tense, quick smile. Definitely not a model. Only Ali MacGraw could manage to make it with crooked teeth.

“Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know where he is.”

“So he just left you over here?”

The girl set the bag down, folding her arms. Something about the mannerism made an eerie feeling prickle down the back of Gene’s spine.

“Are you telling me I can’t be here?”

“No!” Gene pursed his lips. “Look, I don’t care who he’s with. But we’re supposed to go back on tour in a couple weeks and—”

“I know!”

“That’s great. So maybe it might be nice to know where he is beforehand.”

The girl bristled.

“I told you, I have no idea! I just—can’t you leave me alone?”

“You’re living in his house, wearing his bathrobe—that wasn’t even your wallet, was it?”

“Hey!”

Gene scrambled for it. The girl was fairly tall; he probably only had about five or six inches on her, but she wasn’t quick. He grabbed her shoulder with one hand, then jammed his other hand into the bathrobe’s pocket, starting to tug the wallet out. She clenched his arm, nails digging in roughly, not nearly hard enough for him to drop the wallet.

“Stop it! Let go of me, you goddamn idiot!”

She shoved forward, stomping on his foot. Gene couldn’t feel that much of an impact, given the thickness of his boots. He kept a grip on her shoulder as he got the wallet fully in hand, opening it up as she screamed at him.

“You don’t understand, Gene! It’s not what you’re thinking!”

Unsurprisingly, Paul’s driver’s license photo was the first thing staring back at him from the see-through plastic card slot. Eisen, Stanley B. (God, the guy still hadn’t legally gotten his name changed) printed across it. Beyond the license was a handful of credit and business cards, as if Gene really needed to thumb through them for any further confirmation.

“You stole his wallet.”

“I didn’t steal it!”

She had a lisp, Gene noticed out of nowhere.

“Like hell you didn’t. Where is he?”

“I told you, I don’t—”

She jerked back abruptly, digging her nails deeper into his arm. He didn’t let go, but his hand shifted, accidentally yanking the bathrobe down at the shoulder. The girl’s eyes got huge. One of her breasts was exposed, which would’ve been plenty distracting enough, under normal circumstances, but for once, Gene’s eyes went to her bare shoulder first.

More specifically, the rose tattoo on her bare shoulder.

It wasn’t possible. It had to be a coincidence. He only saw the tattoo for a second at best, before she smacked his hand away and yanked the bathrobe back into place, covering her shoulder.

It didn’t prove anything. But in a nice, W.A.S.P.y neighborhood like Paul’s, how many chicks had tattoos? And how many would have one like that, a Lyle Tuttle tattoo, when Lyle’s shop was clear across the country?

She looked pissed-off. Scared, too. Something about the tight, sour way her lips were pressed together seemed weirdly familiar. The way she was acting didn’t add up. She’d called him by his first name on automatic. No deference or starry-eyed behavior. This girl didn’t give a damn about him being a rockstar. Those caustic responses made it come off like—like she really knew him.

That prickly feeling down his spine was only getting worse, even as he tried to dismiss it as impossible. If Gene was right, what he was about to do was incredibly cruel. If he was wrong, he’d just owe Paul Stanley’s latest chick a sincere apology. He wasn’t sure which option was worse.

But he had to know. He let go of the bathrobe and quickly shoved his hand through the girl’s tangled, curly hair, starting just at the temple, lifting it up to fully expose the right side of her face. The abject horror in her dark brown eyes might have been confirmation all on its own, but the damage was already done. He’d already pushed back enough of her hair to see what he’d only ever been told about before.

“Gene, y-you fucking asshole!”

Not an inch past one wispy sideburn was a stub of cartilage where her right ear should have been.

He wasn’t dealing with Paul’s girl of the duration. He was dealing with Paul.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley #ace frehley #peter criss

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