#realtor marketing ideas

[sammydigitals1]

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[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader

I've been plagued by this idea for a while, so let me know what you think! This is just the character introduction. Your new landlord is a Yakuza boss, and his scary looking underling has been tasked to deal with your tenant needs! Although he didn't expect you to be this cute. And you didn't expect him to be this unhinged.

Content: female reader, violence, mentions of stalking

[Part 2] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

This was the last straw.

You're angrily stuffing your suitcase with necessities before the moving company arrives. Each glimpse around the cramped apartment fills you with outrage, as you're still heavily shaken from the events of last night. 

You first begun to suspect you might have a stalker when you found your outer lock with a fresh dent in it. You then picked a small scrap from the ground nearby and assumed it was leftover damage, but upon further inspection you discovered, disgusted, that it was part of your peephole. Someone must've fiddled with your door a fair amount. You tried to approach your immediate neighbors for help, but they either refused to answer your persistent knocks or downright scurried away when faced with your questions. They didn't want to deal with a foreigner. 

You tried to put it behind you. The police advised you to be cautions, as there was nothing else they could do without concrete evidence. And thankfully, you had several peaceful weeks following the incident. Last night you were suddenly awakened by faint scratches coming from your balcony. You groggily got up and wondered if your recently added bird feeder was attracting nocturnal visitors. You got up without turning on the light, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious animal. As you pulled the drape, however, you were met with the large frame of a man plucking your laundry in a hurry. 

A panicked scream erupted from the depths of your chest and you slapped the light switch, erratically searching for your phone. By the time you dialed emergency, the intruder had vanished. You were sobbing against the wall under the fake reassurances of the operator, eyeing the sliding door that had no lock. Had he wished, the masked man could've easily invited himself in. You were at the mercy of a lunatic and no one seemed to be impressed by your situation. 

No more. Ideally you'd go back to your home country and forget about your plans to build yourself a life in Japan. What were you even thinking? A lonely girl, low on funds, signing a contract to be relocated across the ocean for work. You barely scraped the first months of a mandatory year. 

You close your suitcase with a satisfying click and on your way out you wipe the table of all the newspaper clippings. You've been scanning the potential offers on the market. The ones within your budget, of course, which means you don't have to worry about being picky. Until you find a new place, your belongings can wait in storage. Dusty furniture is a better prospect than waking up with a pervert looming over you. 

By the time the clock hits evening hours, you're sipping on your iced coffee with a defeated sigh. Most of the cheap apartments seem to be given to locals. Not outsiders like you. At least they spared you of the false hopes and curtly told you to not expect any call back, so you can swiftly move on to the next circled address. You pull out the crumbled sheet of paper from your pocket. Reading over your list of crossed out lines like this deflates you greatly. At the very bottom lies your final hope: the ad you'd stumbled upon this morning was too good to be true and the realtor was available for viewing at any time, so you're almost certain it's some sort of scam. Yet you can't afford to skip it, can you? You stand up, pat your jeans and take a deep breath in. 

As you check your phone to confirm the location, you begin to doubt your decision. It's hard to believe no other potential renters have showed up. The apartment is in a convenient area, very close to public transport, at a great price, on what looks like a busy street. Isn't it the dream? So why? You glance around, examining the surroundings. The shops are bustling with people. You try to come up with possible explanations, when a deep voice startles you.

"You must be (Y/N), right? You sure are easy to spot."

You turn around to greet the person. Although the second you spot him, you take an unconscious step back. You'd expected a middle aged man dressed in formal attire with a shy bow and clumsy movements. The one standing before you resembles none of that. He's imposingly tall, with a muscular built and slicked back hair. You can discern the tattoos peeking out from under the rolled up sleeves. His face has multiple deep scars and you can only assume that the pale, discolored eye that's transfixed in one direction is a fake made of glass. One might call him handsome, if you're into the kind of appearance you see in documentaries about the mafia. 

"Y-you're the landlord?" You stutter, immediately covering your mouth and regretting your lack of tact. 

"Nuh uh, Boss sent me to deal with it." He flashes you a genuine grin, completely unperturbed by your offhanded implication. "I'm Daitou."

He continues towards the entrance and you follow behind, too awkward to back down now. He describes the living quarters with surprising enthusiasm. If you were to close your eyes and disregard his heavy Kansai accent, you could very well be convinced it's a professional real estate agent hard at work. 

"Excuse me for asking, but..." Once he finishes his marketing presentation, you cannot help the increasing anxiety. "What's the catch?"

"Huh?"

"For something like this to be so cheap...and no one else being interested...may I be frank and ask what's wrong with it? Please understand, I just left my previous apartment because of a stalker. I don't want to be packing again anytime soon."

"Well, isn't it obvious?" He searches your gaze for a moment, before gasping as if remembering something. "Wait, you're a foreigner, so I guess you don't know. Ah, that explains it." 

He lets out a hearty laugh, satisfied with his conclusion. 

"You didn't notice anything strange outside?"

You ponder his question before slowly shaking your head in denial. 

"Really? A bunch of heavily tattooed guys with family pins on their suits...This is a yakuza quarter. Our Family owns most businesses here. But lately we've had a lot of police on our backs, ya know? Bound to happen when the street is swarming with us. So Boss had this great idea - he's smart like that, ya know, I've never been the bright one - anyways, he suggested we rent some of our housing to regular civilians. Less suspicious that way." 

He crosses his arms and nods to himself proudly. 

"I myself think it's a great deal. You won't find anything cheaper for the kind of stuff you're getting. All you have to do is, you know, mind your business. If some weasel questions you, no Sir, you haven't seen or heard anything suspicious. That's all."

You can only stare wide eyed, somewhat taken aback by his honesty.

"Uh...Are you sure you were supposed to tell me all of this? I feel we're skipping some steps before admitting to organized crime."

Now it's his turn to consider your inquiry. 

"Probably not, but I'm not good with words. You look like a smart girl, so I thought I won't sugarcoat it. I'm sure you already know that if you leave and rat us out I'll be throwing your chopped up remains in the nearby river. Or would you want to be shipped home instead? I'm a nice guy like that, hehe."

You return a crooked smile and purse your lips in the process. You'd rather not learn the percentage of truth in his humor anytime soon. 

"You mentioned a stalker? I can guarantee you he won't follow here, miss. And if he's that dumb to wander on our turf, well, me and my guys always hang around the block. Leave him to me and I'll bring you his teeth in a box." 

"I-...Why teeth of all the things?"

"Just easier to pull out, ya know." He winks and reaches for his back pocket, revealing an old pair of pliers with childish delight. "See, I'm a bit of a handyman, so I always have some tools on me."

Strangely enough, you're not as terrified as you would expect from someone in your shoes. Certainly your knees are weaker when compared to your pre-encounter state, but there's something about his demeanor that doesn't feel malicious or threatening. Like conversing with an old friend at a pub. 

"Will I truly not get in trouble? You guys do your thing and I'm 100% not involved?"

"You have my word." And with that, as if closing the sale of his lifetime, he confidently slaps a stack of papers on the nearby counter and hands you a pen. "You already have my number, if anyone pisses you off just hit me up and I'll be at your service. Boss left everything to me."

No perverts and less of your monthly allowance going towards rent. Maybe it's your despair talking, but you've been persuaded nonetheless. You scribble your name in the designated field and shove the documents towards your new acquaintance. 

"Pleasure doing business with you, miss (Y/N)." He cheerfully dangles the keys before dropping them in your hand and heads for the door.

"Oh, is shipping included in the rent?"

He stops and turns to you, mildly confused.

"You said if I mess up you'll ship my remains home. Do I pay for the postage myself, or is that part of the monthly tax?" You ask with a cheeky grin. 

His eyes narrow in delight and you can tell he's greatly amused by your words. 

"Nah, consider it a gift from me. Gotta treat a lady nice, 'specially if it's a pretty one like you."

And with that, you're alone again. You look around the room, trying to visualize your new home. It's already getting dark outside. Now that you've had the situation explained to you, you can definitely see what Daitou meant. There's the occasional police officer patrolling the street, and plenty of men dressed in similar fashion walking in small groups. 

"And?"

Outside the building, a young man is leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth. He seems to have been waiting for Daitou. 

"It's done. Some cute foreigner is moving in." He lifts an arm in a flexing motion, patting his bicep in a congratulatory manner. "Boss will be surprised, eh?"

"You're fucking with me."

"What? You wanna go back upstairs and check?" He responds, appalled. "Might've taken longer than expected, but I told ya I can manage!"

"Are you sure you didn't threaten her or something? I still don't know what Boss was thinking when he asked a nutcase like you to deal with the civvies." 

"Hey hey hey, I may not be all fancy speaking like you or Kazuya, but I'm not dumb. Matter of fact, she already signed the papers."

"I never said you're dumb. Just batshit crazy." The young man sighs and flicks his cigarette butt away, stomping on it.

"Let's go and tell the others."

[yanderenightmare]

Can you write more for naoya zenin? Your writting is soo good omg, i was thinking about ex husband naoya

Naoya Zenin

♡ TW: toxic relationship, toxic family, arranged marriage, obsessiveness, possessiveness, denied divorce, abuse, kidnapping

♡ FEM reader

Ex-husband Naoya, who refuses to sign the papers as there’s no such thing as divorce in the Zenin clan—who says it’s shameful and that you should know better than to think you can just walk away from him just like that.

Ex-husband Naoya, who is very clear about it—how if you leave, it will be with nothing to your name—nothing but the clothes on your back, and barely even that—because everything you have is owned by him—and the only reason he’s ever been willing to share it is because you’ve paid for it in his bed.

Ex-husband Naoya, who can’t believe it when you leave him anyway—who’s certain he’s coming home to a dutiful wife, all silly ideas put to rest, sweetly apologetic for ever having raised the thought—but instead comes home to a quiet, cold, and empty house—divorce papers the only trace you’ve left behind.

Ex-husband Naoya, who immediately has the Zenin clan shun your clan and makes sure all other clans do the same, completely cutting you off—telling your clan leaders that until they deliver on their side of their alliance and have you return to your rightful place, their clan is to be held in contempt.

Your family begs you to go back to him, to stop this rebellion you’re so childishly insisting on. Your father even commands you, but you’re done taking orders from men—and their brainwashed wives. You don’t owe them anything—they’re the ones who sold you off to that misogynistic madman in the first place. Serves them right to suffer the way you have.

And so, you go off on your own. 

But with his resources, ex-husband Naoya’s always able to find you—and make your life hell. Any job you manage to get fires you only a few weeks later for reasons unknown—encouraged by a silent donation—and realtors will suddenly tell you that the apartment you’ve been interested in is off the market.

Ex-husband Naoya, who comes to collect you from the woman’s shelter you’ve taken refuge at, fed-up and beyond ready to put an end to whatever it is you think you’re up to.

“I don’t have any more time for this nonsense of yours,” he says— patronizing tone making him look ugly and nothing like the great man he thinks he is. “You’re out of money, and you’re out of places to run. Come with me now, and I will still allow you a gracious return.” 

Ex-husband Naoya, who really must be the most entitled man in the world.

“Make me waste any more time, and I’ll—”

“Fuck your gracious return,” you cut him off, continuing with a sneer, “Only way I’m going anywhere with you is kicking and screaming. Now get the fuck out before I call security and have you arrested.”

Ex-husband Naoya, who looks at you as if you’ve gone mad, then proceeds to feel driven insane himself—laughing at your threat like it was all a really funny joke.

“I’ve been lenient enough with you, humoring this little rebellion of yours, allowing you to come home on your own,” he says, his voice whispy with breath, just shy of unhinged—then dead and cold come his next words, “But I see now… I’ve been too indulgent.” 

Ex-husband Naoya, who meant it when he said he was done playing games.

Ex-husband Naoya, who doesn’t have an issue with your kicking and screaming.

♡ NAOYA ZENIN masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[monica0071]

I am a realtor and need to brand my business correctly; I am constantly losing customers to my competitors. Is there anyone who can help me? 

Marketing plays a crucial role in creating a brand name in real estate. It helps you build a brand name in the industry, which would help you attract your potential customers. Learning the strategies and ways to make your name in real estate would be best. So, if you are looking for an expert who can help you with real estate marketing and help you prepare better strategies to attract potential customers and grow your business, then look no further, as Monica Thapar is here to help you and guide you through the best practices! Get connected with her and sign up for her classes at www.letsfarm.ca! Get Monica’s knowledge and insights about real estate marketing and strategies and understand how you can grow your business. 

[ansitasahu09]

Is your real estate marketing taking off? Take it to the next level with video! Check out these tips to maximize the reach of your real estate video campaigns.

[thedivinetexts]

thinking about reader who mistakes Ghost stalking them as being... well, a ghost.

gn reader x stalker!ghost. sfw . for now

- 🩷🐰🩷 -

Your house is haunted. The realtor waits until you're ready to sign to mention that someone died in it — a man, murdered by his wife, the realtor confesses. The last few people who bought it couldn't handle knowing that there was blood on their floors, metaphorically speaking.

It explains why it's so fucking cheap, despite being almost everything you want in a house. Big and beautiful, with plenty of space to grow into if you feel like it. Plus, the housing market is shit. There's no way you'll find a better house in your price range, so you sign the dotted line that officially makes you the owner of a haunted house.

The first few months are absolutely fine. You move in and get settled without a problem. There isn't a peep from a ghost as you make the space your own; painting the walls and installing bookshelves to hold your collection goes smoothly. You find no bones when you till a portion of the backyard to create a little garden. All is calm and unhaunted.

Then things start moving. A book you had on your table is back on the shelves, even though you haven't finished it. Dishes you left on the table end up in the sink. The box of pasta that was out of your reach in the cabinet is miraculously on a lower shelf the next morning.

You can't figure out what changed. Why is your ghost suddenly active after months of radio silence? You haven't done anything new to the house lately. You've been living almost exactly how you were before the ghost decided it was time to mess with things. You have no idea what it could want.

You think you've read somewhere that ghosts will stop if you ignore them, so that's what you decide to do. Don't give the ghost a reaction, and nothing bad will happen. You won't be like the last few owners and abandon your new home.

Things moving get no reaction. When your underwear starts disappearing, you silently judge the ghost, but just buy more. When you find doors you definitely closed propped open, you simply close them. It becomes a part of your routine; just another fact of life.

You ignore the footsteps that pad down your hallways. You pretend you don't see the shadowy shapes of a man lurking in the corners. One time you see him standing motionless on your stairs, and you force yourself to focus on the cup of tea you're nursing. When you look back up, he's gone.

It makes you nervous, but you persist. You won't let this bastard run you out of your house.

So, when you spot him standing outside your bedroom door, face naught but a skeletal visage as he peers inside, you drop your gaze back to your book as calmly as you can. This is definitely the closest you've ever seen him. You can feel his eye boring into you as you pretend to read. You're picking up none of the words, too aware of him watching you. After a few minutes of reading the same sentence, you give up and put it aside.

You flick off your lamp and lay down, pulling your blanket to your shoulder so you don't accidentally look at him again. Just ignore it, you tell yourself, ignore it, ignore it. It feels like hours pass before your eyes droop, exhaustion winning out over the anxiety. Eventually you doze off; the awareness of him still watching fades out with your consciousness. He's just a ghost, after all. There's not much he can do but stare.

You're still ever-so-slightly awake when the door creaks open. You don't pay it much mind, not until the mattress dips. That jostles you awake a bit, though you're still bleary enough that you don't see the hand until it is pressed against your mouth, pushing your head into the pillow. All of the tiredness dissipates in a moment, fear taking its place as you snap awake.

You can feel the warmth of the very real hand through the glove he wears. You stare in horror at the very real man pinning you down. On his face is the same skull that your ghost wears — it hits you like a truck that it was not a haunting but intangible spirit with you in your home. It was a man. It was always this man.

He chuckles, low and rough, when he notices your breath pick up into shallow, fearful gasps.

"There you go, lovie," he rumbles. "Was startin' to think you didn't know to be afraid."

[fluentmoviequoter]

Love (Both of) You More

Part 2 of Love (Both of) You

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: You grow closer to Deacon throughout your pregnancy and learn that you aren't the only one who loves him. (This picks up about a month after Part 1 and covers the rest of the pregnancy and birth!)

Warnings: fluff, brief angst, vague threat from r's ex-husband, protective Luca and Deacon, labor and birth, more fluff, Deacon sings Sinatra

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: Thank you so much for the love on the first part! I really enjoyed writing this! An extra special thanks to @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses for the amazing ideas and for being so kind!!🫶🏼

Living with Deacon Kay for a month has changed your perspective on a lot of things. Your life changed in an hour, in the moments between when your now ex-husband kicked you out and when you found solace and comfort in Deacon’s arms. Now, everything is different and infinitely better, even if you’re pregnant and suffer daily from dizziness and nausea. The moment Deacon wraps you in his arms, it doesn’t seem to matter.

“What are you thinking?” Deacon inquires softly.

“Are you sure?” you ask Deacon.

He chuckles and his arms shake around your shoulders. “Of course.”

You look down at your growing bump and frown. “You wouldn’t prefer to wait four months?”

Deacon moves his hand to your chin and directs your face toward his. “No, I would not. Whatever you are thinking, it’s not true. You’re pregnant, but you’re still you. Still beautiful.”

You nod slowly against Deacon’s hand, and his eyes soften as your smile grows. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Deacon replies happily. “I asked if you would be my girlfr-“

You lay your hand over Deacon’s mouth and say, “Just because I already live here doesn’t mean we can jump to that.”

Deacon gently pulls your wrist away from his face, but not before he kisses your fingers. “Whatever you want.”

“I want to say yes,” you whisper.

“I can wait. For both of you.”

When your phone rings after Deacon leaves for work, your vision is blurry from dizziness. Despite not knowing who is calling, you answer and say your name.

“Good morning,” your realtor greets. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“They didn’t accept my offer?” you guess, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I’m sorry. I did find another house in the neighbourhood; it just hit the market and it’s got everything you want.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “I’ll, uh… Can you send me the listing and I’ll get back to you?”

“Of course. Have a good one.”

You hang up and drop your head into your hands. The dizziness hasn’t passed, and you force yourself to take a few deep breaths before the stress of the bad news can make you feel any worse. As your stomach begins to churn, you reach for your phone again. Before you can find Deacon’s contact in your favorites list, his front door opens.

“Deac,” you whimper as he returns.

“You’re okay,” he assures softly.

He walks to the couch and kneels beside you. The moment his hands meet your arms, you relax.

“What happened?” Deacon asks.

“I was really dizzy, and then the realtor called…”

“You didn’t get the house?”

You shake your head, and Deacon shifts to pull you into his arms. With your face pressed to his shoulder, your breaths grow more regular, and your dizziness begins to fade.

“Listen,” Deacon requests. “I know that it’s hard, that you are dealing with everything and holding it together for this little guy… Would you maybe want to stay here? Just until the baby is born and then you can get a house without having to worry about this. The stress isn’t good for you, but I want you here. Being by your side is- it’s the best place I’ve ever been.”

You nod against Deacon’s shoulder. His arms wrap tighter around you, and you suddenly remember he is supposed to be at work.

“Why’d you come back?” you ask.

“Would you believe me if I said I felt like I should?” When you shake your head and smile, Deacon amends, “I forgot my coffee and can’t live without it.”

You laugh and lean back. With the room to leave, Deacon leans closer to you and lays his hand over your stomach.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I love you, Deacon.”

“I love you,” he replies. “Both of you.”

At 15 weeks pregnant, you’re convinced that your baby is going to be an Olympic gymnast. Between the kicks to your bladder and the discomfort he or she can cause, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to simply sit and be comfortable. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been to the bathroom or shifted to find a better position, but it’s been an all-day battle.

“We’ve got 25 more weeks of this,” you whisper to your stomach. “Could we try to work together?”

A sharp pain against your side is your answer, and you shake your head in both discomfort and amusement. Deacon will be home soon, but you don’t want to concern him by mentioning any issues. When he does return, you raise your arms and hug him tightly.

“I missed you,” you say. It’s punctuated with a kiss on his jaw. “And I have an answer.”

Deacon’s eyes widen as he awaits your answer.

“I’m ready to say yes. I want to be your girlfriend, Deacon, more than anything.”

“I love you,” Deacon says.

He cups your face in his hands and kisses you. You move with Deacon until you hiss in pain and pull away. With a hand pressed to your bump, you wonder how someone can move so much in such a small space.

“You alright?” Deacon asks.

“Mostly. Someone’s active today.”

“C’mon, sit down,” Deacon urges.

After he helps you lower to the couch and kisses your forehead, Deacon walks to the kitchen. You twist as more kicks begin and tilt your head back as tears prick your eyes. Whether it’s pain or hormones, you can’t tell, but it’s not enjoyable.

“Let me try something,” Deacon says.

You nod to welcome him, and after he sets a snack and a glass of water before you (which you smile at), he sits beside you. He lays his hand over your stomach and brushes his thumb against you.

“Practicality doesn’t interest me, Love the life that I lead, I’ve got a pocketful of miracles, And with a pocketful of miracles, One little miracle a day is all I need,” Deacon sings softly. “Troubles more or less bother me, I guess When the sun doesn’t shine, But there’s a pocketful of miracles, And with a pocketful of miracles The world’s a bright and shiny apple that’s mine, All mine.”

As Deacon sings, your baby calms. You relax beneath Deacon’s touch, and he smiles up at you through the words of the song. You’ve told Deacon that you love him, but it’s clear that you aren’t the only one.

“Thank you,” you tell Deacon after he finishes the song. “We love you, Deacon Sinatra.”

“Not as much as I love you,” Deacon argues.

He kisses you, and your baby kicks. As you groan, Deacon chuckles and leans toward your bump again.

Your 16-week appointment is one of the most exciting, though you think Deacon is more excited than you. The appointment will tell you the gender of your baby, which has been the topic of many debates between Deacon and Luca over the last three months. Deacon is convinced it’s a boy, but Luca won’t change his vote for a girl. Either way, you know your baby is going to have an amazing and protective father figure and uncle in Deacon and Luca.

Two days before the appointment, however, everyone’s excitement levels drop. Deacon calls you as soon as he learns that he has to be in court the day of your ultrasound.

“I’m so sorry,” Deacon apologizes. “I would be there- I want to be there, but this court date came up out of nowhere and I have to testify.”

“I can try to reschedule the appointment,” you offer. “I know you were looking forward to it.”

“No, no, you need to go. I just- I’ll find out when I get home.”

“Sorry, Deac. If you happen to get out of court early or anything, you know you’re welcome to drop by.”

“Yeah.” Deacon sighs before he says, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

After you end the call, you stare at your phone for a moment. Deacon was so excited when you asked him to come with you, and now he finds out just a few days before the most important ultrasound of your pregnancy that he can’t be with you. You’ll have to do something for him, and you have an excellent idea.

“Hey, are you okay?” Luca asks quickly when he answers.

“I’m fine,” you promise. “I just talked to Deacon, and he can’t come to the appointment this week. So, I wanted to ask a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I need your help to surprise Deacon.”

“Oh, I’m in.”

“He’s here,” you alert Luca. “Thank you for helping.”

“Of course,” he replies. “He’s going to be thrilled. You’re good for him.”

“I think you have that backward.”

“You’re good for each other. Trust me, I know things.”

You chuckle and shake your head. Luca pulls you into a hug and keeps one of his arms over your shoulders as Deacon enters the front door.

“Hey,” Deacon greets. “Luca.”

“Luca is here to tell us if I’m having a boy or a girl,” you explain.

“But you-“

“I told them not to tell me. So, they put it in an envelope and gave it to Luca.”

Deacon smiles and pulls you from Luca’s arms and into his. Luca scoffs and mumbles something about being your best friend before he walks away. You wrap your arms around Deacon from your position at his side.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Deacon tells you.

“Yes, I did. I wanted to.”

Luca returns with an oversized box. He shrugs at Deacon’s surprised look and says, “We couldn’t decide. So, would you like a lightsaber or your girl’s idea?”

“A lightsaber?” Deacon repeats. “I do want to see it, but I’ll take hers.”

“It’s not much,” you interject.

Luca nods and removes two smaller boxes. He sets them on Deacon’s kitchen table and steps back. You clutch Deacon’s hand between both of yours as he walks you to the table.

“Cake’s on the left, outfit’s on the right,” Luca tells you.

“I saw the ideas online,” you say. “The cake is either pink or blue, and the outfit is for the baby, so it’s for a boy or girl.”

“You pick,” Deacon offers. “Your baby.”

You shake your head and argue, “Your surprise.”

“Both, then. All of the above. I’ll cut the cake, you open the box, and Luca turns on the lightsaber.”

“Yes!” Luca exclaims.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” you agree.

You stand before the box with the newborn outfit in it, Deacon holds a cake knife over the confetti-decorated cake, and Luca raises the lightsaber before him. With the lights dimmed, you count down from three. The lightsaber buzzes as the light glows from the handle up to the top, and you look from the outfit to the cake, to the glowing toy.

“You were right,” you cheer as you wrap your arms around Deacon.

“It’s a boy!” Deacon yells as he hugs you tightly.

“I have a nephew!” Luca exclaims as he twirls the lightsaber.

Deacon pulls back from the hug and gently wipes the joyful tears from your face before he looks at the outfit in your box. This is better than anything you could’ve heard in the doctor’s office, and you’re glad that you have both Deacon and Luca by your side.

“Hey, what flavor is that?” you ask as you look at the cake.

“Your favorite,” Luca answers. “Because I’m a good friend and a better uncle.”

You watch him play with the lightsaber as you lean against Deacon. This is home, you decide, and he always will be.

“Sit down,” Luca demands. “You’re almost five months pregnant, you’re not helping.”

“I’m pretty sure you said I’ll help you move in not I’ll move in for you,” you argue.

“Absolutely not,” Deacon adds as he walks through with a box. “You’re not lifting anything.”

“Then let me put stuff away!” you try.

“And stand for hours? No.”

“Take a seat. We can handle it,” Luca promises.

You huff as you sit back on the couch. Luca and Deacon walk out to get more boxes from the back of Luca’s truck. There wasn’t much to move, and your ex had put everything in a storage unit and then shipped the key to your attorney. Outside, Deacon and Luca get another reminder of your ex as they prepare to move a larger box.

“Hold up,” Luca requests. He pulls his ringing phone from his pocket and answers, “Luca.”

“Hey,” your ex greets.

“I told you to stop calling,” Luca seethes.

He stands up straighter and Deacon raises his brows in question.

“Yeah, well, my baby is due pretty soon. I want to know where she’s having my kid so I can be there.”

“You’re not welcome, and you never will be.”

Luca hangs up and shakes his head. Before he tells Deacon who it is, his phone rings again.

“Don’t hang up on me,” your ex begins. “I have a right to know.”

“You lost that right when you kicked the mother of your child out and divorced her just because she was pregnant. No one wants you here, and if you call one more time, the only answer you’re going to get is a restraining order.”

“I’ll find her myself, then.”

“Listen very closely,” Luca says darkly, surprising Deacon with how quickly his attitude intensified. “Do not come near her and stop calling. You’re not a father, you never were.”

“That wasn’t the first time,” Deacon says after Luca ends the call. “How many times has he called?”

“It’s been a while. He called every day for the first month or so, but nothing until now. He said he wanted to be there for the birth.”

“Luca, she-“

“She is getting a restraining order,” Luca interrupts. “Not that I think she’ll argue.”

Deacon nods and jumps out of the bed of the truck to go inside. Luca knows that it’s time to tell you, so he follows Deacon inside.

“Why are you up?” Deacon asks. “C’mon, we need to talk about something.”

“Oh,” you say, looking between Deacon and Luca. “About what?”

“Your ex.”

“He called today, and it wasn’t the first time. For some reason, he wanted to know where you were having the baby because he wants to be there,” Luca explains. “It was the first call in months, but I think you should consider a restraining order, just to be safe.”

You nod and immediately agree. “Thank you for dealing with it, Luca, and for not telling me. I don’t think I could’ve handled it before now.”

“What changed?” Deacon asks.

“Everything. You, moving in. I didn’t love him and I’m really happy now.”

Deacon pulls you close, and Luca teases you about stealing his only capable helper as he exits the house to bring in another box.

“I’m happy with you,” you whisper. “Thank you, Deacon.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he checks.

“I’ve never been better than I am with you,” you assure. “Thank you for everything.”

The halfway point of your pregnancy passes in a blur, but the five-month mark feels like someone slammed on the brakes. The entire 21st week of your pregnancy, you were nauseous, dizzy, sick, and tired. You kept it from Deacon for a few days, but Luca found out somehow and checked in on you often.

An hour after you went to bed, you wake suddenly and move as quietly as possible to the bathroom. Two silent trips later, you decide to stay there rather than risk waking Deacon. Leaning back against the cool tub, you close your eyes.

“What happened to tell me when things happen?” Deacon asks from the doorway.

“Nothing happened,” you argue tiredly.

“You’re just taking a nap in the tub because it looked comfortable, then?”

“Easier than going back and forth.”

Deacon offers his hands and helps you up slowly. You begin to argue with him, but when he leads you past your temporary home in his guest room, you fall quiet. He welcomes you into his arms in his bed, and you fall asleep and stay asleep. Deacon cares about you, and every time he shows that care, you grow more convinced that you won’t be able to leave him.

“You’re glowing!” Street says.

You look up quickly and smile when you see him. The decision to stop by the station and see Deacon and Luca was last minute, but you’re glad you’re here.

“Is it pregnancy glow or I’m dating Deacon Kay glow?” Street inquires playfully.

“Maybe it’s Maybelline,” you joke.

Street furrows his brows in confusion, and you wave your hand before his face and laugh. He swats your hand away gently and gestures for you to follow him. As you approach Luca, with his back to you, Street raises a finger to his lips and points. You roll your eyes but do it anyway.

When you grab Luca’s shoulders, he spins quickly. He inhales sharply when he sees you and tries to act mad, but when you raise your arms for a hug, he smiles and pulls you in.

“About time you visit again,” Hondo exclaims.

You smile and hug him quickly, and soon every member of 20 Squad – except for Deacon – is around you and asking about you and your son. When Deacon returns from the locker room, you’re pulled from the center of the circle and into his arms.

“Hey, when’s the baby shower?” Street asks.

“Never. I’m not inviting you guys to buy me gifts,” you say.

“Too late. They’re taking up space in the locker room,” Hondo replies. “Give us a date or we’re sending them all home with Deac.”

You shrug, and Luca says, “Saturday, my house.”

“Is it always like this?” you ask Deacon.

He nods and whispers, “Welcome to the family.”

At six months pregnant, you had accepted that you weren’t in a position to have a baby shower. Yet, here you sit, surrounded by cops and their families with an entire table full of gifts and more well wishes and love than you thought existed.

“Excuse us,” Deacon interrupts.

He apologizes to Hicks and Molly as he pulls you away but steers you directly to the couch before he tells you why he needed you.

“You’re getting tired,” he says. “Take a breather.”

“Maybe,” you reply. “Or maybe I just need cake.”

“You’re going to end up on bedrest if you keep this up,” Deacon reminds you, though his voice and smile are gentle.

“Being with you 24/7,” you muse. “Maybe I’ll keep it up.”

Deacon shakes his head but kisses your forehead before he asks you to rest for a minute before you go back to socializing.

“Hello,” Deacon greets over the phone. “I was about to call you.”

“My water just broke,” you say. “Sorry, hi.”

“Did you say your water broke?”

“Yeah, like two minutes ago.” You grunt as a contraction begins.

“We’re on the way,” Deacon says. “Stay on the phone with me.”

“I’m not about to have the baby, you’ve got time.”

“I missed enough.”

“Wait, we?”

“You think Luca would let me leave without him?”

You chuckle through the end of the contraction and listen to Deacon yelling for Luca. He’s calm, but rushing, as if you’ll have the baby in the twenty minutes it will take him to get here.

��You’re amazing,” you tell Deacon.

“That’s all you. We’re leaving now. How do you feel?” he asks.

“I feel fine. Contractions hurt a little, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“We get to meet little man!” Luca cheers. “Hey, did she pick a name yet?”

“A few,” you and Deacon say together. “She’ll pick when she sees him,” he tells Luca.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Deacon and Luca rush into his house. You’re waiting by the door with your hospital bag, and you smile as Luca takes your bag. Deacon sits with you in the backseat of his car as Luca drives.

After you enter the hospital with two protective men wearing SWAT uniforms, you get into a private room before you can even sit in the waiting area. Your contractions grow closer quickly, and Deacon’s hand stays in yours through every moment of labor. Luca is waiting outside to meet your son, but at this moment, you only notice Deacon.

“You’re amazing,” Deacon tells you. “You can do this.”

He continues to encourage you and stays close to you throughout the entire process. The moment your son’s cries fill the room, you relax and whisper, “Thank you” to Deacon.

“A beautiful baby boy,” the nurse says as she passes your son to you.

You hold him against your chest, and you look up at Deacon. He smiles at you and lays his hand over yours on your son’s back. His eyes are misty, and you mouth I love you, which he returns without hesitation.

“We’ll be right back,” the nurse promises as she lifts your son. “Just a quick check-up.”

After the room clears, and only you and Deacon remain, you sit up carefully and pull him closer by his hand.

“I have a question,” you say. Deacon nods, and you ask, “Can I give him your last name?”

Deacon’s eyes widen but he doesn’t answer.

“I don’t have to; you don’t have to!” you add quickly. “I just thought-“

“Yes,” Deacon whispers as a tear breaks past his water line. “Yes.”

You sigh and smile as Deacon wraps both of his hands around yours.

“You’re the only father he’s had, the only one he will have,” you explain. “Thank you.”

Deacon bends over to kiss you, and you wipe his tears before he stands. The nurse returns soon after, and Deacon takes your son from her and holds him to his chest. Deacon may not be the reason this baby exists, but he’s his son, no matter what happens.

“He’s perfect,” Luca whispers as he enters your room. “Looks just like you.”

“Thank you for everything, Luca,” you reply.

“Are you kidding? I’m just getting started.”

He lifts a giant gift bag onto your bed, and you smile before you look at Deacon and your son. They’re both perfect, you think.

“We need to talk,” Deacon says as he returns from the nursery. He sits beside you and adds, “It’s about what you’re comfortable with me doing.”

“Everything,” you say.

“No, I mean-“

“I know what you mean,” you assure, pressing your hand to Deacon’s chest. “You’re his father, Deacon, and if you want to do anything for him, I won’t stop you. He loves you… almost as much as I do.”

Deacon smiles as he leans forward to kiss you. He told you in the hospital after you gave birth that he wanted to step in and be a father to your son, and you quickly corrected him to say our son. Even before you started dating Deacon, you knew there was something special about him, and now that you’re in a real relationship with him, you understand that everything about Deacon Kay is special.

With your head on Deacon’s chest and his arms around you, his touch and heartbeat lull you to sleep. Your son falls asleep the moment Deacon picks him up, too, and the realization makes Deacon smile. Deacon brushes his hand over your shoulder as he lays awake. He doesn’t know how much time passes before your son starts crying. Deacon turns down the baby monitor beside him and stands, careful not to disturb you.

He enters the nursery he set up before you gave birth and gently picks his son up. Deacon sways as he rubs little Kay’s back.

“Practicality doesn’t interest me, Love the life that I lead, I’ve got a pocketful of miracles, And with a pocketful of miracles, One little miracle a day is all I need,” Deacon sings softly.

With Deacon's touch, his voice, and the vibrations of his chest, your son calms quickly and falls asleep against Deacon’s chest. When Deacon turns, you’re leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” you whisper. “He still likes it.”

Deacon raises one arm, and you join his side. He kisses your head before you tilt your chin up for a proper kiss.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you more than I can say,” he replies. “Both of you.”

Deacon begins singing again and sways. He locks eyes with you as he changes the song to The Way You Look Tonight. Your relationship with Deacon gets better daily, and this moment proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Deacon is a great father, and he does love both of you.

[cmdrfupa]

You sat on the edge of the bed, tugging on your socks as the morning sounds kept you awake. An unusually early Saturday morning for the both of you as Toji hummed in the bathroom while you got the last of a large yawn out.

The sunlight slanted in through the half-open blinds and the early chill to the day filled your bedroom as you moseyed to browsed over what to wear in the closet.

In the bathroom with the door cracked open, Toji’s rich, gravelly voice drifted out over the soft hum of the electric razor.

“Gonna be a long day,” he says, the razor going silent as he rinses his face. “That realtor said we’ll see, what… four or five places?”

“Four.” You glance over a skirt and hold it up to you, contemplating before looking in the mirror hanging on the wall. “But you know how it goes. If we don’t find something, we have time. Housing market should remain stable for another 6 months. There’s no rush.”

“Right. But if we don’t start wrapping things up, Megumi’ll be in college and Tsumiki’ll be visiting with a grandkid before we settle anywhere.” He lets out a low chuckle, warm and amused.

It didn’t register just how much time had passed until Toji realized he’d hit the goal amount to buy a house. 3 years of playing house and marrying turned into being worried about if a house will have proper irrigation systems that will last.

There’s a brief clatter, then the faucet comes on full blast as he rinses off the last of the shaving cream. “Speaking of which, you ready for those college visits?”

You laugh, slipping on your blouse and buttoning it up. “Ready, yes. Prepared? Not a chance. You know he wants to tour every campus in this province and a few overseas. He’s keeping you on your toes.”

“Kid’s got ambition,” Toji says, amusement lacing his voice. “Wonder where he gets it from.”

You can picture him leaning forward to scrutinize himself in the mirror, the way he sometimes squints as he checks for stray stubble along his jaw. Groaning at the small patch of gray he shaves off first every single time.

It’s one of those everyday scenes you never quite get tired of. He’s steady, predictable in his habits, but there’s an ease in the familiarity.

“So, what’s the dream house, huh?” he asks after a pause. There’s a hint of something lighter in his tone, playful almost. “Big yard for maybe another kid to practice in, good schools, fancy kitchen for you?”

“A quiet neighborhood would be nice.” you say, tugging on your jeans. “And, yeah… I wouldn’t mind a spacious kitchen.”

Toji snorts, as the idea of him caring about school districts is somehow amusing. “Skipping over the yard part? Come on, what’s one more kid? A little mini me running around. Would be nice.”

You laughed grabbing your belt, pulling it through the loops as you stepped out in the bedroom. “Let’s get the house first. Then we can discuss having a kid with your big head and features. Sound good?”

“Guess we’re going full domesticated life now, huh? Yard sales on Sundays? Book club on Tuesdays? Starting to think you’re losing your touch, pretty lady.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes even though he can’t see it. “You’d love it. Don’t even pretend.”

A beat later, Toji steps out into the bedroom, adjusting the collar of his dark red polo. The sleeves were fitted just enough to hint at the broadness of his shoulders, the solid strength of his arms bulging. The deep red complemented his dark hair perfectly. His khakis hug his waist and tapered down, showing off the powerful lines of his legs and the definition there—he looks effortlessly good, a little rugged but undeniably refined.

He catches you looking, his lips curving into a sly, knowing grin. “Like what you see?”

“Your ass.. Jesus,” you tease back, though your eyes are unabashedly admiring. The camel colored pants fit him like a glove. The way they accentuated his thighs made you want to scream. “Since when do you go for khakis?”

“Hey, I clean up nice.” He closes the distance between you in two easy strides, dropping a casual hand on your shoulder. He gives a slight squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your arm.” I bought them from that wholesale store. You know the one with the family size peanut butter?”

“The one that you single handedly empty out for your thick ass smoothies?”

“That’s the one.” Toji squeezes your rear and winks. “Anyway, figured I’d match the high standards. Realtors are probably used to dealing with rich types. Gotta look the part, right?”

“Eh. If nothing else, you’ll charm them into knocking down the price.”

He chuckles, bending down just enough to press a quick, lingering kiss to your forehead then your lips.” I’m starting to think you married me for my looks and devilish charm.”

“For the last time, Toji,” you gently wiped his chest, loosening the wrinkles before. “Yes. I did.”

He picked you up with ease, laughing as he wrapped your legs around him. “You’re unbelievable. And I thought you loved me.” Toji laid you on the bed, kissing your neck and holding your waist letting your pleas and laughter warm him up inside. “Am I just a scary dog and eye candy for you?” He teased.

“You’re much more than that. Great support system, incredible cook, inhumanely patient.” You ran your fingers over the nape of his neck as he hovered over you. “Hefty wallet when you aren’t losing during horse racing season.”

“I don’t lose often… anymore.” His lips curled into a boyish smile as he helped you sit up on the edge of the bed. He grabbed your shoes, lacing them on you before helping you stand. “Now. Let’s go get your dream house, baby doll. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Let’s go get it, baby boy.”

There was always something grounding about the routines you had together. Those quiet moments where you planned for the future with the same unhurried certainty that he shaves with, that he presses his lips to your skin with.

The thought of the three of you wandering through endless corridors of empty houses, each one holding the promise of a new start, filled you with a gentle anticipation.

And no matter where you ended up, it was always going to feel home if you had one another.

[unteriors]

Why is France in particular so much worse off than many of the other Western countries on this blog? It looks like some of these places haven't been updated in 100+ years to be safe or liveable, and somehow have evidence people still occupy them. I know poverty is the main answer, but it surprised me. I know their buildings are old but some of these people are still using oil lamps.

I'm not completely sure, there are definitely a lot of centuries-old buildings for sale on French listings that look as though they haven't been updated in about as long. Part of it may be cultural and specific to France - it has a huge number of small settlements, most of which date back hundreds of years, with their original housing stock intact. But it probably has something to do with the confluence of a few different factors that affect the kind of listings you find for each country. One factor is how regulated and (relatively) free of corruption the real estate sector is in each country. In the US, for instance, it's regulated enough to make it possible for aggregate websites like Realtor and Zillow (and Redfin, etc.) to exist. I'm not totally clear on the specifics, but I think it has to do with having centralised agencies that track and provide data for sales prices, dates of sale and other property details that ensure a certain level of quality control. This means that listings tend to be more standardised and easier to navigate (for people like me interested in the imagery for reasons outside of the boring, instrumental original function from which they emerged). One thing I've noticed looking through sites from developing countries is that there tend to be a lot of obviously-fake listings, which re-use the same images and which make it a lot harder to find genuine ones. I'd guess having a substantial proportion of real estate transactions taking place in the grey market probably contributes to this (putting less pressure on these sites to be transparent and functional). If it seems like most of the imagery of this blog comes from western (or western-ish) countries that's one of the reasons why.

Cultural and regionally-specific factors are also important. France has a well-regulated housing sector, but so does Australia, which has a totally different feel in terms of the real estate imagery it generates - generally much more polished and artificial. If I had to guess, this probably has to do with how well-oiled the propaganda arm of the real estate industry in my country is; the idea of buying and renovating and speculating on housing as an investment is deeply embedded in the culture here, you see it all over the place on TV, in books, the kinds of things people talk about. Doubtless it has a lot to do with how structurally deep the housing crisis runs and how intractable it seems. I'd guess that it's also directly related to the kind of aesthetic you find: bright, evenly-lit photography using expensive cameras that make shitty overpriced houses look like offices, standardised camera angles (there must be some kind of style guide that like half the realtors here follow), etc. I've spoken to people who criticise real estate listings - which they have no personal stake in - that don't follow these conventions, as though following and reproducing these corporate aesthetic values is somehow virtuous. I'm not familiar with the cultural context in France, maybe it isn't as bad as ours. Some countries just seem to produce more real estate imagery independently of these factors though. I haven't found much in Germany, for instance, which you would think would have a similar housing stock to France. I've found a ton from Georgia and Hungary. Japan, which has a well-regulated housing sector (and presumably an enormous amount of housing being bought and sold), is much harder to find imagery from, partly due to the language barrier, but also to the way in which its main aggregate websites are designed. And maybe cultural reasons come into it as well. Italy has a lot of imagery, though a lot of it is covered in watermarks and other branding, so you have to hunt around. Spain is similar. When I do find imagery from continental Europe it seems like, outside of Germany, most countries have a lot of rough, older housing stock that people still seem to somehow live in, like you described. I haven't found much like this from the UK; I have from Ireland though.

I'm open to the idea that there's much of this sort of imagery from lots of different countries and I just haven't been proactive enough to find it; if anyone has any suggestions on where to look for any country please send them to me. I'm not just interested primarily in decrepit older housing stock, I think it's more of a project of looking for imagery that has aesthetic or artistic or cultural or whatever value and liberating it from the constraints of its work-institutional-instrumental context, and recontextualising it in a setting where those qualities can be drawn out and appreciated. There's a history of artists doing similar things (probably playing on the relationship between art and work), from Gustave Courbet to Andy Warhol to Tracey Emin. If anyone's interested send me an anon and I'll write more about the rationale here.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Rusty | Chapter 16 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary - You and Spencer start making plans to leave Bandera. When Spencer makes a discovery about Luke, it leads to him having a blow out with the whole BAU team before saying his goodbyes to his old friends.

A/N - there will be a time jump after this chapter and things will ramp up pretty fast. Also just to note, if it seems like Spencer takes two steps forward and five back sometimes it’s because he does. Healing is not linear and he still has a long way to go.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - dissociation, jealousy, swearing, tears, arguing, mentions of prison and vague hints of sexual abuse, mentions of Cat Adams and Ben’s Believers, Luke and Spencer are both mean, goodbyes, sad BAU team.

WC - 6.8k

Chapter 16 - Take Your Memory With You

Grant was whistling to himself as he swept the barn floor, finishing up making the ranch look as presentable as possible. He was working tirelessly getting the place to look as orderly and neat as he could before he had a realtor round to get the old place on the market.

He was slightly wistful about the idea of selling his parents ranch but the excitement he felt about taking the next step outweighed it. He’d already eagerly been looking at homes in DC and Virginia, scouring job vacancies and preparing for his potential move. 

He and Luke spoke on the phone and texted every chance Luke had available whilst working on a case he could tell Grant little about. Every time his phone went off and he saw Luke’s name on the screen he got butterflies in his stomach. He didn’t know this, but Luke also experienced the same thing when Grant texted him. 

It was probably crazy that he was considering this, packing up his life and moving to the other side of the country for a man who was supposed to be a one night stand. 

He’d never once allowed himself to throw caution to the wind, to do something reckless like this. He was sensible, predictable, he didn’t do things like this. But that was part of the reason he wanted to do this. 

It might be insane and it might end up being the dumbest thing he’d ever done but he had to give it a try. Luke had made him feel things he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt and it was worth the risk to see if there could be something lasting between them. 

As he finished sweeping, he wiped his brow on his sleeve and leant the broom against the wall of the barn. As he did so, he heard the faint sounds of footsteps on the gravel. His brows pinched together, he wasn’t expecting company. 

He picked up his shotgun which was leaning near the broom but didn’t raise it, taking a few cautious steps out of the barn with it by his side. He was surprised to see Spencer headed up the path, one hand in a thick splint and the other in the pocket of his jeans. He wore a brown suede stetson which covered his mess of hair.

Grant placed the shotgun back down and rubbed his hands together as the other man slowly approached. Spencer was offering him a slightly lopsided smile as he grew closer.

“Uh, hey, sorry to just show up here like this.” Spencer rolled his lip awkwardly between his teeth.

“Not a bother.” Grant shrugged. “What can I do you for?”

Spencer removed his stetson, holding it in his good hand while he considered how to begin. He’d told you last night he was going to get moving on selling the ranch so the two of you could make a break before Luke inevitably showed back up and that’s what he was trying to do.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush.” Spencer exhaled. “I’m leaving Bandera and wondered if you were looking to acquire any more land? I’ll be leaving my cattle and two of my horses as well if that sweetens the deal. I’m not looking to break even or anything, I just need a quick sale.” 

Grant narrowed his eyes on Spencer curiously, a small smile creeping to his lips.

“Well I’ll be, I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Grant chuckled deeply.

“You’re leaving too?” Spencer’s brows pinched together. 

“Yeah, I’m relocating to the East Coast.” 

“Oh,” Spencer pulled a face. “How come?”

Grant chuckled again before a dreamy smile spread across his features and Spencer could tell he was getting a little lost in a memory.

“I, uh, met someone.” His cheeks flushed. “I reckon it makes me a damn fool for upping sticks for a man I hardly know but he’s not like anyone I ever met before. But I’m gonna make it to DC if the creek don’t rise.” 

Spencer felt a sharp pain in his chest, his vision becoming blurry around the edges. He stared at Grant as the cogs turned in his head. Surely it had to be a coincidence? It could not be feasible that Grant was talking about…no, no way.

“Uh, DC?” Spencer croaked. “Weird, that’s where I’m from.” 

Suddenly Grant’s brow furrowed heavily and he sucked in a deep breath as he remembered something Luke had said before he’d left. 

“Never chose this life, it chose me. Always thought I’d get out of the south one day, move to some big city, ya know? New York, LA…maybe even DC. Unless that idea scares ya.” 

“Why would it…why would it scare me?” 

“You seem like the jumpy sort.” 

“I was still processing an old break up. It ended suddenly and I never got any closure. But I think I have now, I think I’m ready to move on.” 

“Hold on a gosh darn second,” Grant shook his head. “He’s not…you’re not…”

“Luke,” Spencer exhaled. “Luke Alvez?”

Both men’s expressions fell, skin paling as they came to the same conclusion. Spencer’s head started to spin and his vision grew even hazier. 

“You’re the break up he was talkin’ about.” Grant pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had no idea, Spencer.”

“It’s fine.” Spencer shook his head, his tone saying it was anything but fine. “I’ve moved on. He should too. You two would make a great couple.” 

It seemed as though you and Spencer weren’t the only ones with the same taste in men. Spencer stumbled backwards at the implications, feeling lightheaded. 

“If I’d known-”

“It’s really fine,” Spencer laughed but it didn’t sound genuine. “You’ll love DC, it’s great. Uh, I should probably…go.” 

Before Grant could say another word, Spencer was turning and running back down the path towards the road. Grant watched him go with a sigh. Of all the men in the world, he’d ended up in bed with Spencer’s ex. And clearly Spencer was not as fine with it as he made out.

***

When Spencer arrived back at the ranch he was in a complete daze. You found him wandering outside the lodge aimlessly. His eyes were unfocused, he wouldn’t respond to your voice or to your touch. 

You led him inside but he didn’t even seem to realise what was happening. You sat him on the couch and went about breaking him out of his dissociation. You placed ice cubes in his hand, got him to drink some honey and lemon tea and used the photograph of his mom to snap him out of it.

You knew he’d gone into town to ask around if anyone was interested in buying his land, what had led to his dissociation? You wondered how long he had been in this state for, how long he had been wandering around like a zombie. You were grateful he’d made it back without hurting himself. 

It took close to fifteen minutes but suddenly his eyes were present again and he looked at you with a frown, melted ice dripping from his hand onto the floor. 

“Hey you,” you whispered with a soft smile. “You okay?” 

Spencer blinked rapidly, looking down at what was left of the ice cubes in his hand, noticing the citrus flavour on his tongue and the photograph of his mother on the coffee table. 

“Wh-what happened?” He croaked as if he’d just woken up. 

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me.” You quickly got up and went to the kitchen for some napkins. 

You hurried back and scooped the last of the ice from his palm before giving him the napkins to dry himself off. 

“I…I have no idea.” He shook his head. 

He was lying. He knew exactly what had happened. Grant had met Luke and the two had clearly hit it off and now Grant was moving to DC to be with him. His Luke. 

No, that wasn’t fair. Luke wasn’t his and hadn’t been for a long time. It wasn’t beneficial for Spencer to think that way. He had moved on, he had you, Luke was in his past. 

Spencer had never had any intention of him and Luke being together again after he moved to Bandera, that relationship never would have worked again. But it didn’t mean he stopped loving Luke, stopped caring about him. And it made his heart ache to think of him with someone else. Now he knew exactly how Luke felt.

“So, you’ve moved on, huh?” 

“It’s been two years, what did you expect?” 

“What did I expect? Well for starters I expected more from you than leaving without a damn word! I expected that you wouldn’t completely cut me out of your life! I expected…maybe I hoped that I wasn’t the only one still pining like an idiot. So she gets the healed Spencer Reid? She gets to have you now you’ve worked through your trauma? When I was the one that spent a year by your side after, trying to help you? How is that fair?” 

———

“No one can help me! Why don’t you understand that?” 

“She seemed to be doing a fine job.” 

“Goddamnit, would you let that go?” 

“Let it go? How the hell can I let that go? Every time I close my eyes I will see her on top of you!” 

Luke had to walk in on the two of you in bed, seeing first hand that Spencer had moved on. The mere thought of Luke with Grant was enough to cause him to slip into a dissociation, he couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Luke to witness that. 

“You don’t remember?” You gave him a look of scepticism and Spencer shook his head.

How could he tell you what had sent him over the edge? There was no way he could admit that this had happened because he found out Luke had moved on. Spencer loved you, he loved you more than he’d ever loved anyone. But selfishly he thought Luke would always be there. God that made him sound terrible. 

“No,” Spencer pushed himself to his feet, balling the napkin up in his hand and traipsing to the trash can. 

“I don’t believe you.” You stood too, folding your arms over your chest. “You’re lying to me.”

Spencer sucked in a breath and slowly turned back to look at you, clenching his jaw tightly.

“Yes I am,” he nodded. “But only because I’m trying to protect you.” 

“Protect me?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Protect me from what?” 

“If I tell you why I dissociated you will no doubt get upset and I have upset you way too many times before.” He heaved a sigh.

“Tell me.” You insisted. “Tell me right now.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes a little, leaning back against the kitchen counter and glancing out of the window at the land beyond. 

“I went to speak to Grant about buying the ranch and it turns out he’s also leaving town. He’s moving to DC because he met someone…” Spencer trailed off, keeping his eyes out of the window.

In his peripheral vision he saw you frowning, filling in the blanks to the sentence he didn’t want to finish and honestly it wasn’t all that hard.

“Luke?” You croaked. 

“Yeah. Grant is moving to DC to be with my ex boyfriend.” 

“And that caused you to dissociate.”

“Yeah.”

“Because you still have feelings for Luke.” 

“Yes.” He huffed, turning his head to face you. “Of course I do. But I don’t want to be with him, okay? I want you and only you. But it surprised me and it upset me and I would understand if you were annoyed by my reaction.” 

“Spence,” you exhaled, taking a few steps closer to him. “I’m not annoyed. He was a big part of your life, I understand that it would throw you through some kind of loop to find this out.” 

“I really wish I didn’t love you so much.” His words surprised you as he raked his fingers over his ever growing facial hair. 

“Why?” You frowned lightly. 

“Because you’re too good for me.” He shrugged meekly. “Everything I’ve put you through, it’s too much. I’m a fucking wreak. Last night after we…fuck Y/N it was so amazing but when you were asleep I just…I felt numb. I should have felt something, you know? But I felt fucking numb because no matter how much I keep trying to convince myself otherwise, I’m not whole.” 

Tears started down his cheeks and you came closer, placing your hands on the sides of his face and holding his gaze. 

“I’m too good for you? Spencer, I murdered my step father.” You gently reminded him. “And so what if you aren’t whole? Who says you need to be?” 

“I don’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done.” He cupped the back of your neck in his good hand. “And I want to be whole, I want to give you every little piece of myself but I can’t because I lost a big part of who I am in prison.” 

You cooed him, brushing his tears with your fingertips and trying to calm him down. 

“As long as you can love me with every piece you have left, I’m okay with that.” You smiled before he was tugging you close for a kiss. 

He could undoubtedly give you that, every shred that still belonged to him was yours. And he’d never loved you more than he did in that moment. 

You were startled apart by the sound of a phone ringing. Spencer turned back to the counter where his device sat and saw the name flashing on the screen. You peered over his shoulder and saw it too. 

His body went rigid and he sucked in a deep breath. His hand reached out for the phone and you saw it was trembling. 

“You don’t have to answer it.” You whispered but Spencer was shaking his head. 

“I need to.” He picked up the phone. “I need this to finally be over.” 

Spencer took the phone and without looking at you, turned to the door and quickly left the lodge. You observed him through the window as he put the phone to his ear and continued walking in the direction of the stable. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself and rolled your lip between your teeth. You just had to hope he was strong enough to handle this. 

***

Spencer headed down the steps of his lodge and once his feet hit the dirt at the bottom, he answered the call. He huffed out a breath before he spoke.

“What?” He grumbled. He was met by silence for a moment or two so with a sigh he spoke again. “Hello? What do you want?” 

Another short burst of silence and Spencer was grinding his teeth as he trailed up the path towards the stables.

“I, uh…” the voice croaked. “Sorry I didn’t expect you to answer.” 

“Well I did. So what do you want? No, let me guess. Grant called you?” Spencer wished he could keep the bitterness from his voice but it was impossible.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.” 

“Sorry I found out that way or that I found out at all?” Spencer spat, unable to calm himself. 

“You don’t get to be angry, Spencer.” Luke’s voice remained calm, but was laced with his frustrations.

“I get to be however the hell I want to be.” Spencer bit back. 

“I found you in bed with a woman Spencer, if you’re allowed to move on so am I.” Luke growled slightly. 

Spencer reached the stable and cradled the phone between his shoulder and face while he unlatched the door with his non-splinted hand. 

“I don’t care about you moving on.” Spencer scoffed. “But you could have done that with literally anyone! Why did it have to be someone I know? Someone where I live?” 

“Sounds like you don’t plan to live there much longer anyway. Grant said you were trying to sell him your ranch?” Luke spoke and then Spencer heard him thanking someone under his breath. 

He must be at work. Judging by the sound of him then sipping something Spencer assumed someone had just given him a mug of coffee. 

“That’s why I answered your call.” Spencer walked across the stable, ignoring his horses and sitting down on the wooden crate against the far wall. “I am leaving Bandera and I wanted to tell you to stop calling me. I need a real fresh start, one where you guys can’t keep hassling me.” 

“Hassling?” Luke spat. “You’re mistaking us caring for hassling?” 

“Luke you guys smother me!” Spencer raised his voice, almost immediately back on his feet. “For my entire FBI career I have been the youngest on the team which means I’m babied and coddled and I’m sick of it. I am a forty year old man! I don’t need you or anyone else to worry over me like I’m a still a kid.” 

“After what you’ve been through, Spencer, how can we not worry about you? It’s nothing to do with age, or you being younger than everyone else. You spent three months in prison being abused before having to face off against your rival who tried to kill your mom. Then less than a year later you were taken hostage by Ben’s Believers, you almost died. 

“And then you made the decision to runaway without telling anyone, except Prentiss but I’m sure you only told her because you had to. How the hell can we not worry about you? Half of the team expected you to relapse, you know? Hell, I thought you might relapse. How the fuck can we not worry about you when you’re out there in the middle of nowhere on your own!” 

Spencer had started to pace while Luke ranted down the phone, back and forth through the stable and ignoring the attention seeking huffs from the horses. 

“Well I’m not on my own anymore. And I’m leaving Bandera and I’m not telling any of you where I’m going. I picked up the phone to tell you this is the end. I will be blocking your numbers, fuck I might even just destroy my goddamn phone again so there is no way of Garcia tracking me down. It’s over Luke, I don’t want anything to do with any of you anymore.” Spencer spat harshly, unable to stop his rampant pacing. 

“I’d argue with you but to be perfectly honest I’m sick of this. I’m sick of worrying about you all the time, I’m sick of feeling dejected every time you ignore my calls. I am sick of the fucking Spencer Reid show!” Luke yelled. 

If he was at Quantico Spencer imagined it would have garnered a lot of attention. 

“The Spencer Reid show? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Spencer grumbled. 

“Our entire relationship was about you. You and your goddamn trauma, even before prison! You and your daddy issues or mommy issues and your adabonment issues and your sobriety and whatever the hell else you were dealing with. My PTSD didn’t matter. I had to suppress my own trauma, trauma from serving overseas to protect the fragility of your psyche.” Luke was really shouting now and Spencer could only imagine the eyes of the team were all on him. 

The rage was pooling in Spencer’s stomach, rapidly clawing its way through his body. He turned to see Rusty staring at him but it wasn’t the same wary way she usually regarded him. Her eyes were wide but docile. 

Tentatively he stepped closer to her, once again cradling the phone in the crook of his neck so he could raise his hand in her direction. He moved slowly, cautiously, so as not to frighten her. But she didn’t move. 

He laid his palm against the side of her face and she nuzzled into his touch. Spencer felt a little sceptical by her sudden fondness for him when she’d previously shown him nothing but disdain.

He dared entwine his fingers with the coarse hair of her mane, trying to ground himself with the texture whilst staring into her large brown eyes. She made a small noise of contentment. 

“If I was such a fucking problem for you then it shouldn’t be hard to hear that I never want to speak to you again.” He fought to keep his voice levelled and under control. 

Luke was breathing heavily down the phone, clearly trying to rein himself in like Spencer was. 

“You…” he huffed. “You fucking broke me, Spencer. The way you left, it destroyed me. Nothing in my life has ever hurt as much as having to hear from Prentiss that you’d left without a word. I’ve spent the last two years trying to get over you, trying to move past the pain that you caused. And I have finally met someone who made me forget all about you. I’m not asking you to be happy for me, but you don’t get to be mad either.” 

Spencer kept his focus on Rusty, weaving his fingers deep into her golden mane and staring unblinking in her eyes. He swallowed thickly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. This was so strange. 

“Have a nice life, Luke.” He breathed out. “Tell the others I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I need to forge my own path and the only way I can do that is by cutting old ties. I’m sorry.” 

“You owe them more than that.” Luke was quick to speak, feeling as though Spencer was imminently going to hang up. “At least tell them yourself. We’re all here at the BAU, let me put you on speaker?” 

Spencer clenched his jaw, holding tighter to Rusty as he felt his knees buckling. He knew Luke was right, he did owe them more than him vanishing again. It didn’t mean the thought of talking to them all didn’t make him feel nauseous. 

“Fine,” he croaked out before he changed his mind. “Hurry up though.”

He heard shuffling and some barely perceptible whispers. A chair scraping across the floor, footsteps and a door opening and closing. 

He knew Luke’s hand was over the microphone when he spoke again as his voice was muffled but he just managed to hear what he said. 

“Guys, I’ve got Reid. He wants to talk to us all.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, that wasn’t exactly true but he wasn’t going to argue it. A little more shuffling as he assumed Luke put the phone on a table and then Luke’s voice was louder. 

“Go ahead Spencer, we’re all here.” Luke remained on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Rossi and Emily were standing by a layout board going over the information in the Sicarius case while Tara, JJ and Penelope were at the table, the latter hovered over her laptop and the other two looking over files.

Spencer was silent. He could all but picture his old team gathered in the round table room and he felt the nerves swarm his body. 

He moved his hand from Rusty’s mane to the side of her face, brushing his fingers along the silky texture of her coat. Again she didn’t seem to have any qualms about him doing so. 

“Uh, hi everyone.” He spoke quietly. 

At the BAU, Penelope Garcia’s hand flew to her mouth as she stifled a gasp at hearing her boy wonders voice for the first time in what had to be months at this point. 

Tears flooded to JJ’s eyes, obscuring her vision as she gnawed on her lip. Tara, Rossi and Emily managed to keep their composures. 

“Kid, it’s good to hear your voice.” Rossi was the one to speak. 

“Hi Dave, good to hear yours too.” Spencer’s voice cracked. 

“Is everything okay junior G?” Garcia couldn’t stop herself speaking. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I, uh…I told Luke that I’m leaving Bandera. I need to get away from everything for real this time. And I’m afraid that includes all of you.” 

More silence swelled in the room as the six agents exchanged looks of concern and upset. 

“What do you mean?” JJ’s voice gave way to her sorrow. 

“I don’t think I’m ever going to fully heal while I still have one foot in DC. I love you all very much but you all remind of me the worst things that have ever happened to me. I need a clean break. Last time I left without saying goodbye and Luke reminded me that I owe you more than that. So, uh, I guess this is goodbye.” He sighed, feeling strangely emotional.

Until now he’d only let himself think of how in running away with you he would miss his ranch and the life he’d created in Texas. He hasn’t let himself dwell on the idea that it also meant cutting ties with his old team entirely. 

He heard a little more shuffling, key tapping and then the device cradled against his face beeped in his ear. With a frown he removed his hand from Rusty and pulled the device into his eyeline. 

Incoming FaceTime call.

He grit his teeth. Apart from Luke he hadn’t see any of their faces in two years. 

“Turn your camera on, Reid.” Emily’s voice came through the speaker, commanding him like he still worked for her. “At least let us say goodbye to you face to face.” 

Spencer huffed, moving to sit back on the wooden crate. His finger hovered over the button for a moment or two before he accepted it. 

This was going to be tough. It was hard enough lying to them at the best of times let alone face to face. As much as he was being honest when he said he was fed up of their babying, their worry it wasn’t the full story. 

He had to cut contact with them in order to keep you safe. He was choosing you over his friends. He just had to keep his expression in check so they didn’t see through to his hidden agenda. 

The screen was blank for a few moments and then suddenly it was as though he was back in the BAU round table room. He could tell from the angle that Garcia had mirrored Luke’s phone screen and his image was being displayed on the large TV. 

Apart from Luke, none of them were prepared to see Doctor Spencer Reid sporting scruffy facial hair, with curls down to his shoulders and longer than any of them had seen in years or wearing a denim shirt over a plain white tee. But to their credits, they hid their surprise well, including Garcia. 

Spencer almost waved at them before he remembered that would mean them seeing his splinted arm. Luke could have told them already but he didn’t want to worry them any more than they already were. 

Garcia and JJ at the table both had tears in their eyes and Tara was sitting in the middle of them had her hands laced together in front of her. Emily and Rossi were nearest the camera and Luke was off to the side with his arms folded. 

“Wow this is weird.” His brows pinched together. “I feel like I’m in the room.” 

“Are you eating?” Garcia suddenly spoke up. “You look skinnier than I remember and that’s saying something because you were always so tiny.” 

“I’m eating.” Spencer nodded. 

“Clearly not enough.” Penelope huffed. 

“Garcia,” Emily shot her a look to silence her and the bubbly blonde shrunk a little in her chair. “You look good Reid, rugged even.” 

The small quip of her lip made Spencer chuckle. 

“About time.” He joked but there was still the underlying melancholy in his voice. “I really am sorry to be doing this but I just need some time. I appreciate that you all care about me, but I’m fine I swear.” 

“Does this have something to do with the girl? Because it seems like odd timing.” Luke grunted as he spoke. 

Spencer felt his cheeks redden but only Rossi and Tara seemed confused by what he’d said. Spencer didn’t know that Luke had already filled Emily, JJ and Garcia in on how he’d found Spencer indisposed when he’d visited. 

“Girl?” Tara cocked her eyebrow at the screen. 

“Uh, yeah.” Spencer pulled a face. “I guess I met someone. Thanks for telling everyone, Luke.” 

“So she’s the reason you’re leaving? Why you’re cutting us all out of your life?” Luke narrowed his eyes. 

“No, of course not.” Spencer shook his head. “I just need to do this.”

“Is she going with you?” Luke frowned, his jaw set. 

“That’s none of your business.” Spencer spat. “Why don’t you focus yourself on your own personal life rather than sticking your nose in mine.” 

“Spence,” Emily spoke in her calming manner. “Is this still about what happened to you in prison?” 

Spencer’s face fell and thanks to a combination of his new phone's excellent camera and the quality of pixels on the BAU screen, they all saw it. 

“Prison? With your friend Delgado?” Garcia pouted. 

“Spence, we know that was hard for you.” JJ added. 

“That’s not what she’s talking about.” Luke spoke up, his slightly pointed tone obvious to everyone. 

“What is she talking about?” Rossi frowned looking between his Unit Chief, Luke and Spencer on the screen. “Prentiss? Alvez? What do you know that we don’t?” 

“Don’t you dare.” Spencer spat. “Don’t you fucking dare tell them!” 

“They have a right to know why you’re being like this.” Luke growled. 

“Alvez,” Emily scolded him. “It’s not your place. And it’s not mine either.” 

The other members of the BAU gave each other curious looks while Spencer tried hard to control his anger. He couldn’t believe Emily would have the nerve to bring it up. She threw it out there like a grenade but refused to pull the pin, expecting him to be the one to do it. 

“What happened in prison?” It was JJ who asked, of course it was. “What don’t you want us to know?”

“It’s nothing.” Spencer hissed. “Goddamnit Emily, did you really have to say that?” 

“Don’t hiss at me like that.” Emily shook her head at him angrily. 

“You aren’t my boss, I can talk to you however I like.” Spencer growled. “You had no right to bring that up in front of everyone.” 

“I’m your friend and I’m worried about you.” She shrugged. 

“You had no right to mention it.” He repeated. “What happened to me is nobody's business but my own. So stay the fuck out of it.” 

“Spencer!” Garcia gasped. “What has gotten into you?” 

“I’m not the same person I was.” He grunted. “Look I didn’t want this, I don’t want to fight. I just need to say goodbye.” 

Silence flooded over them all again, the impending end was heavy in the air. None wanted to speak, none wanted to bring this to its closure. So Spencer spoke again. 

“You’ve all been such a huge part of my life and I love you all from the bottom of my heart.” He wasn’t entirely sure he meant to look at Luke but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. “You meant the whole world to me, I wouldn’t change a single second of what we had. But I have to move on, I have to heal. I’m sorry this has to be the end but it’s the only way.” 

If anyone else noticed Spencer was talking solely to Luke, no one mentioned as much. But Luke knew, and he gave a soft nod as his vision blurred with tears. 

“We, uh, we love you too man.” Luke replied. “You’ll always be a big part of my heart - our hearts I mean.” 

The others sent their kind words Spencer’s way but he was still staring at Luke and Luke at him, eventually they fell quiet and Spencer forced his eyes off of his ex.

“Uh, bye then I guess.” Spencer shrugged. 

“Bye kid, stay safe out there.” Rossi nodded at him.

“Bye Reid,” Tara smiled sadly. 

“Oh I hate goodbyes!” Penelope was crying now. “Love you boy wonder, goodbye.” 

“Goodbye, Spence.” JJ wiped her own eyes. 

“We’ll always be here if you ever change your mind.” Emily added. 

When he looked back at the space Luke had previously been occupying, it was empty. Luke was gone. 

Spencer swallowed, trying to hide his upset at the fact Luke had fled in such a way before he’d technically gotten to say goodbye to him. 

Before he could show how much it hurt he ended the call and sighed heavily. Before he got back up he went through their numbers one by one and blocked them before deleting their numbers. But just as he was about to do the same to Luke’s contact information, a text appeared on his screen. 

📲 Luke Alvez: I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye. I really do wish you all the best but I just can’t let myself believe this is really over. I will always love you, Spencer Reid. 

Spencer felt his chest tighten as he read over the words a few times. And then he blocked Luke’s number, forgetting to delete it like the others. Perhaps it had been subconscious, or perhaps he’d deliberately kept it, he wasn’t sure. 

Either way he had removed them from his life so he could take this step forward without putting you in danger. 

***

Two days later Spencer’s ranch was up for sale with a local realtor but the two of you didn’t have the luxury in sticking around and waiting for it to sell. 

He’d managed to get another nearby rancher to take on his cattle and, somewhat reluctantly on his part, Wilbur and Franklin too. Although he didn’t have as strong of a connection with them as he did with Willow, he was going to miss his two stallions a great deal. 

Spencer had purchased a horse trailer which could be hooked up to the back of your car for Rusty and Willow and the rest of the backseat and trunk were filled with Spencer’s belongings, which were mostly books. 

He sat in the passenger seat while you arranged the last few things on the backseat and checked the trailer was secure, assuring Willow and Rusty with pats on their heads that they were okay. 

He stared out at his lodge, the one he’d called home for two years and the For Sale sign stuck in the dirt. He was growing wistful at an alarming rate, feeling his vision blurring with unshed tears. 

He’d never made a home here quite like he had in DC but for some reason this was harder to leave behind. He’d loved his apartment in the city, lived there for most of his adult life, but he’d given it up without a second thought. 

Perhaps because here on his ranch in Bandera it was the life he’d chosen. DC and the FBI had been thrust upon him by Jason Gideon, not that he minded that and he was grateful for Gideon’s persistence to have him on the team. But it never really left Spencer any room to choose his own path.

With his intelligence he could have done just about anything, he’d thought he might have long ago cured schizophrenia. But Gideon had pursued him, claiming the young genius as his own prized pig for the BAU to show off. Moving to Texas was probably the first thing he’d done for himself his entire life. 

Sure, he still wasn’t making any medical breakthroughs or using his brain to help the world. But this life was so simple, something he’d sorely needed after years of chasing criminals. But now instead of chasing them, he was going on the run with one. 

Really if he stopped to think about it, it was insane. He’d spent fifteen years protecting and serving, bringing people like you to justice. He should just turn you in, then he could keep his ranch and not have to cut his friends out of his life. 

But you had opened up Spencer’s eyes. In meeting you, Spencer finally understood why he’d never made things work with anyone else. Life just made so much sense to him now. 

Relationships of any kind for him had always been about compromising pieces of himself. With Ethan he’d become subservient, as was par for the course for a first relationship he was a moldable putty in Ethan’s hands. He said and did what he thought the other man wanted whether or not Spencer himself wanted it too. 

With Lila and Ivy the woman he’d had a one night stand with after Maeve’s death and Caleb with whom he’d had a six month booty call with, he’d conceded parts of himself for the sake of casual sex. He’d lessened his own values for the sake of other people. And with Maeve herself he often dumbed himself down to allow her to feel superior. 

And then there was Luke, who Spencer didn’t realise until it was over just how compromised he’d let himself become. Luke was traumatised from serving overseas, needed something to focus his mind on to quell his own darkness. Spencer permitted himself to fall into the role of beta, not that it was a hard persona to emulate. 

He was for the most part a submissive person, but mostly in part because he’d always been pushed into that mantle. Sometimes he thought it might be nice to have a little control in his own life, in his own decision making but with Luke that was taken away. 

He didn’t mind, for the most part. But now he looked back on it there were times where he’d wished he’d been able to make even the simplest choice of what they were having for dinner or what movie to watch. 

He didn’t need to be an alpha and honestly he probably wouldn’t even know what to do with that kind of dominance. But Luke coddled him as though he wasn’t able to make his own decisions, handled him with kid gloves as though Spencer was one moment away from breaking at all times.

And that was even before prison. 

Even with his friends, his team, Spencer compromised himself for their own happiness and well-being. He slotted into roles that needed filling in their lives rather than forging his own. He was what people needed him to be. He was malleable. He was a hunk of clay just waiting to be sculpted by those around him. 

But then he met you and he finally understood what it was like to not have to bend to the will of others, to shape himself around the demands of others. 

In moving to Texas and being alone for so long he was able to start forming himself away from the ordinance of the people around him. He started to discover exactly who Spencer Reid was in his most authentic incarnation. 

Upon meeting you he did not bend, he did not falter. And he found that someone actually loved him for who he was when he was just himself and not trying to appease or alter himself to be deemed fit. 

So he would miss his ranch, no doubt. He would miss his friends despite the fact they barely talked anymore. But the decision to leave with you was an unimaginably easy one. You didn’t love him for the person he could be, you loved him the raw version of him, the real, uncensored Spencer Reid. 

The driver’s door opened and you slid in with a smile, rolling down the window and lighting a cigarette between your lips. You turned to him as you started the engine reaching across the centre console and giving his hand a squeeze.

“You ready for this, stud?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not too late to change your mind.”

He waited until you took a drag, exhaling the smoke out of the window before he gripped the back of your head and drew you close for a kiss. 

“Y/N,” he spoke once he pulled back, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I have never been more sure about anything in my life. I know things haven’t always gone smoothly for us, I guess we’re both just a little…rusty.” He chuckled and you did too. “But practice makes perfect, right? And I’m fairly certain we’ll figure it out together.” 

You smiled brightly at him, taking another drag on the cigarette before putting the car in reverse. Spencer took one last look at the place he’d called home for two years, wistful but excited for what the future held. 

You dangled your arm out of the window and with a wink sent his way you spoke in mirth, “Well then cowboy, we better giddy up.”  

@kalulakunundrum @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @babyspiderling

[e-dubbc11]

Okay, so... I would also love to request a song fic from you for our dear Billy boy ❤️

It's Wish - Canaan Cox.

And if... if I may make a little small extra request? Can the reader be plus size? It's not something I've really seen for Billy 🫣❤️

My lovely Lily,

So I listened to this song for about half a day, I love it and it took me awhile to come up with the idea for this but I like it so I hope you do too! ♥️ Thank you for all of the asks you sent me, I appreciate you ♥️♥️♥️

Intuition

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x Plus Size! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, self-esteem issues, smooches

Word Count: 1.7K-ish

Summary: You take a leave of absence from work to help your mother out on the farm after your father gets sick. A handsome CEO buys a cabin in town.

A/N: I’ll link Wish by Canaan Cox at the end and TECHNICALLY this is my last sleepover ask but I can’t say no to my friends when they send me things so I have one more after this for the devilishly handsome, Matt Murdock (see what I did there 😉)

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“They say the guy who bought the Miller’s cabin is quite handsome.” Your mother said, as she counted out ears of corn to put into a paper bag.

When your father got sick, your mother needed help tending to their farm in upstate New York and running the market where locals would come to buy fresh fruit, vegetables, and eggs among other goods. So you took a leave of absence from your job in the city to help her out.

“I’ll keep my eye out, Ma.” You replied with sarcasm dripping from your voice.

She wiped the dirt off of her hands with her apron.

“He told the realtor he just wanted a place to come every so often to relax and be alone. He has some fancy job in the city.” She said.

Raising your eyebrows, you said, “Well the Miller’s place is out of the way so aside from the wildlife, he’ll be very alone.”

After your customer paid for his corn, you headed for the back room. Since it was almost closing time, you started cleaning up and putting things away when you heard the bell ring on the front door. Someone had just walked in.

You couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying but your mother was very chatty with whoever walked through the door. The other voice you heard was smooth like warm honey and you swore you could actually hear your mother blushing out there.

Holding a basket of tomatoes, you walked out from the back and said, “Hey Ma, you want these tomatoes out front or—“

You froze in place with the basket still in your arms.

A sly smile stretched across your mother’s face as she said, “Ah, here she is. Billy this is my daughter, y/n. Y/n, this is Billy Russo. He’s the one that bought the Miller’s cabin.”

He was probably the most handsome man you had ever seen in real life. Billy was tall with dark brown hair and a well-groomed beard. His smile made you weak in the knees and his eyes were like two pools of dark chocolate.

You pulled yourself together long enough to pick your jaw up off of the floor, place the basket on the floor and extend your hand for him to shake. It was a beautiful hot summer day today, so you were positive you looked like an absolute mess with dirt on your cheeks, hair in your eyes, and sweat stains on your t-shirt.

Billy, on the other hand, looked perfect. He had on a gray t-shirt, jeans and what looked like an expensive pair of sunglasses hanging off of the collar of his shirt.

Extending his hand, Billy shook yours and said, “Billy Russo…it’s nice to meet you, y/n.”

As if you weren’t warm enough already, heat rose to your cheeks and you knew you would be warm to the touch. “It’s nice to meet you too, Billy. What can we do for you today?” You asked, fidgeting profusely.

Your mother continued to fawn all over him as he replied with a warm smile, “Well they told me this was the place to get all of my fresh fruits and vegetables so for right now I’d like some lettuce and tomatoes, please.”

After paying for his vegetables, Billy left but not before saying “I hope to see you again soon.”

“What? He wants to see you again.” Said your mother, looking surprised.

You dropped your shoulders and rolled your eyes as you turned the sign on the door to “Closed” and locked it.

“Ma, come on. He was just being polite. A guy like that has zero interest in me.” You said with a slight frown.

“Hey, you don’t know that.” She said.

“Oh yeah? Show me a guy like that with a girl on his arm that looks like me. I have thick thighs, a little bit of a belly, and these round Charlie Brown cheeks. Guys like him go out with supermodels Ma, not chubby girls that work on her parent’s farm!” You said with a raised voice.

You’ve always been self-conscious about the way you looked. People would always say “Oh you have such a pretty face.” And you were just waiting for them to finish that sentence with “It’s just the rest of you that looks terrible.” You could only wish a guy like Billy would give you a second look.

“Well I think he likes you.” Said your mother.

You shook your head as you replied, “You’re the only one, Ma. You’re the only one.”

**********

Billy was splitting his time between his cabin and his penthouse in New York City. He would come in weekly for supplies but even after completing his purchase, you found he would stick around to talk to you, even help you wait on customers. He did seem to enjoy talking to you.

“I thought you came up here to relax, Russo. Helping me with my work is not relaxing.” You said.

“It’s funny…I really don’t know how to NOT work, y/n. Plus,I kinda like helping you. This is actually relaxing for me.” He said in a low tone.

“You bought that cabin to get AWAY from work. Go enjoy it!” You told him.

He inched a little closer to you. Your arms were touching as he turned his head to the side and looked down at you with that perfect smile on his face.

“You tryin’ to get rid of me?” He asked, his slight New York accent peeking through.

Without thinking before speaking, you blurted out, “No, I’m not tryin’ to get rid of you, I like looking at you, I mean—uh, well—what? Oh look, a customer! Hi, Mrs. Newman!”

Stumbling over your words, you became flustered as you walked to the front to wait on Mrs. Newman but you could feel Billy’s eyes on you and heard him chuckling a little.

Trying to keep Mrs. Newman in the store as long as possible so you weren’t alone with Billy Russo, you asked her, “Wait! Are you sure you don’t need anything else?! The watermelon is really good this year!”

“I’m all set, dear. Thank you.” She said, walking out the door.

Shit.

“Soooooo, you like lookin’ at me, huh?” He asked with a coy smile stretched across his lips.

With your palm pressed to your forehead, you emphatically said as a joke, “NO! Well I—I don’t understand the question.”

Billy moved in closer like he had before, his eyes looked like two wells of black ink, and he tilted your chin up so he could look into your eyes.

“I like lookin’ at you too, ya know.” Said Billy.

Your stomach began to flutter and you had to clench your thighs together listening to his silvery voice.

But you couldn’t help yourself and said, “Yeah? Well I think you’re full of shit.” And you stormed off into the back room.

Billy chased after you.

“Hey, y/n! What the fuck was that? Why would you say something like that?” He asked.

It was a reflex action. The tears came thick and fast as you tried your best to keep them from spilling over.

You turned to face him.

“You know exactly what I mean, Billy!” You said curtly.

He shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “No, obviously I fuckin’ don’t. Please tell me!”

The tears had spilled over and streaked down your cheeks.

“Guys like you don’t like girls like me, ok?!” You yelled.

Billy looked confused as he replied, “Girls like you…you mean girls that are funny? Girls that are beautiful, and sweet? Someone who’s easy to talk to? Those kinds of girls? If I didn’t like you, why would I be here all the time? I could just pay for my shit and leave like most people do but I stay because I genuinely like you.”

You folded your arms protectively across your chest, trying to figure out if maybe he lost a bet to the guys in town and now he has to try and bang the chubby farm girl but his eyes told you he wasn’t lying.

“Billy…I don’t exactly have guys beating down the door to go out with me. I’m always the funny friend or the chubby one with the good personality. I’m not the one they want. It’s just the way it is.” You said softly.

“Well they’re fuckin’ stupid and it doesn’t have to be that way with me.” He said with a kind smile and he slowly started to walk toward you. “I would love to take you out.”

Your heart was racing as you absentmindedly reached out to play with the fabric of his t-shirt. It felt soft as you were sliding it through your fingers but you couldn’t bring yourself to look into his eyes because you felt like you might start to cry again.

But he brought your gaze up to meet his anyway. Your entire body was shaking as he pinched your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. Billy gently pressed his lips to yours. They were soft and tasted like the peach you gave him a little while ago.

Placing your hands on his chest, you kissed him back. The bristles of his beard tickled your chin as his tongue parted your lips wanting to twist and knot with yours.

It felt like a dream but Billy was real, very very real. A wish that you had asked for over and over again, had finally come true. It was finally your turn to kiss the handsome prince. Or in this case, the handsome CEO.

“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry!”

It was your mother.

“Jeez, Ma!! You scared the crap outta me!” You exclaimed.

“Well pardon me, my darling daughter but I didn’t know you were playing tonsil hockey with the New York City hunk, ok?” She said.

You and Billy started to laugh.

“I can see where you get your sense of humor from, pretty girl.” He said with a wink and a smile. “Come to the cabin with me. I’ll make you my famous BLT.”

“Really? FAMOUS BLT huh?” You asked.

Even Billy’s eyes were smiling at you as he nodded.

Biting back a smile, you replied, “I’d love to.”

And in typical mom fashion, your mother interrupted and said, “See…I told you he liked you.”

You hated to admit it, but your mother had been right all along.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @fictional-hooman @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[bookished]

🦋 ( halloween themed prompts! adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post 🧡 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips. tag me when you use any!

"I don't think this place is really haunted, do you?" "Well, considering the chains rattling and the ghostly figure in the corner, I'd say it's a possibility."

"It's been centuries, my friend. How have you been?" "I've had all the time in the world to perfect my haunting techniques. You?"

"Trick or treat!" (giving candy): "Here you go, but beware, these candies have a mind of their own!"

Witch A: "Oops, I might have added too much of that." Witch B: "What do you mean 'too much'? What's going to happen?"

Witch A: "I'll grant you one wish, but you must give me something in return." Character B: "What could I possibly have that a witch would want?"

(cursed costume) "I can't take off this costume! It's like it's glued to my skin!" "Maybe you shouldn't have bought it from that creepy antique store."

"I'm going to carve the spookiest pumpkin ever!" "I challenge you to a pumpkin-carving duel!"

Ghost Realtor A: "This haunted mansion has been on the market for centuries. It's to die for!" Potential Buyer B: "Are the chains and moaning included, or do I have to summon those myself?"

"This ring is cursed! It won't come off my finger!" "And I thought proposing on Halloween was a good idea."

Vampire A: "Welcome to the annual 'No Garlic' potluck, everyone!" Character B (holding a garlic bread basket): "Oops, wrong party."

"Today, we're going to learn how to brew a love potion. Any volunteers?" "Does it have a 'breakup antidote' option?"

Vampire A: "Hi, I'm [Name], and I've been blood-free for two centuries." Vampire B: "Hi, [Name]. We're here to help you through this."

[sitp-recs]

Do you know of Drarry fics with a reality tv show theme 😁

Hi anon! I don’t know many but these are great fun:

a new kind of blind date by swoons (T, 1.2k)

Keen to escape his fans, Harry joins the cast of a hidden-identity dating show. The Love is Blind AU.

Blind Date by nerakrose (G, 1.8k)

A variety of high profile people are roped into a Blind Date reality programme.

Selling Britain by prolix (T, 3k)

The housing market in Wizarding Britain is booming, and the competition between realtors is fierce. “Selling Britain” offers a glimpse into the rich and ruthless lives of real estate brokers at the Patil Group, Diagon Alley’s premier real estate agency. Tensions are high after new realtor Harry Potter joins the team, but no one is more upset about the new addition than veteran agent Draco Malfoy. Or: Drarry meets "Selling Sunset".

The Perfect Match by PalenDrome (M, 16k)

After a disastrous blind date lands him an unflattering headline in the Prophet, Harry's friends convince him that being a contestant on a wizarding dating show couldn't be any worse.

Last City by zeitgeistic (E, 27k)

Twenty-four Twenty-three men, six cities, and one unusual sexual requirement.

Desperately Seeking... by @maesterchill (E, 34k)

Harry Potter is NOT desperate for someone to love. He DOESN'T need anyone's help to find a date. And he CERTAINLY doesn't want to go on a dating show! Unfortunately for him, his teenage children have other ideas. After all, they know just how big and loving (and a little bit lonely) their dad's heart is.

The Incredible Race by dysonrules (M, 50k)

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, Aurors, are forced to join a televised global race in order to provide some free positive publicity for the Ministry, despite the fact that Aurors Potter and Malfoy don't exactly get along.

[theambitiouswoman]

Heyy

Do you have any advice on starting a real estate business as in just buying and renting out property?

Thanks 🤍

Yes!

**For the record, I have personally done a few flips/rehabs. Apart from that, I knew/know most of the realtors in this city and relating companies as I worked with most real estate/mortgage and title companies here when I had an agency.

First you need to be able to learn the market and research comparables. When looking to buy properties there are important factors to consider to make sure you are not paying overprice for a property as well as that the are is on demand, ensuring it will be easier to rent out the property.

The location of the property and its proximity to amenities like schools, shopping centers, grocery stores, transportation etc. Also that the area is safe.

You also want to look for areas that has future development plans, this will raise the value of your property.

If you have worked with investment companies, you will quickly learn that buying a property that is not in the best condition, a rehab property, could be a very smart play. You want to make sure of course to check the comparables and ensure that the property is underpriced compared to the other homes in the area. Once you rehab the property, it could raise or even surpass the value of the other homes in the area.

Any home that you would look into to buy for renting out should have elements that you intend to upgrade on. There are a lot of reasons for this but the most important one is how it raises your price and potential earnings. Redoing a kitchen or a bathroom can immediately raise the value of your home anywhere from 5-50k. A project that will cost you anywhere from 3-10k on average for a standards nice kitchen depending on your area.

Overall you still want to look at the comps to make sure you are getting a fair deal. Calculate the potential annual rent as a percentage of the properties price. This will give you an idea of the return on your investment. Also make sure that the potential rental income exceeds the monthly expenses. If not it does not make sense.

Check the vacancy rates in the area you want to purchase in, if its high there may be a low demand and not a good area to invest in.

Also you want to think about how easy it would be to sell the property if you need to. In demand areas tend to be more liquid.

So important, to understand the landlord/ tenant laws in your state. Including their rights and eviction process etc. Nothing worst than having a horrible tenant and not being legally able to remove them.

There are a lot of rate plans depending on your specific situation and mortgage rates also vary significantly by state. Make sure to get the best deal for you. Some states a first time can give as little as 1-5% down depending if you are a first time/ entrepreneur etc.

Property insurance is another cost factor to consider when working out your numbers as this varies by area.

Managing a few properties on your own is easy, but after a handful, you may want to consider hiring a property management company to handle these things for you.

I would strongly urge you to get a lawyer to draw up renter contracts.

To grow this business what you want to do, and this is a general overview: down payment for house, fix, rent out, refinance, use refinance to purchase another property and have enough to put into upgrades/repairs on the second purchase and repeat.

I can get into taxes on this too if you want.

[heartbeatan]

The Art of Revenge (Chapter 2)

Return to Chapter 1.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Jungkook Fanfictions.

Return to One Nights Series.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 2

Two days ago, you walked in on Chris and Stephanie. You had spent the next day visiting your lawyer, who was a friend of yours from college, preparing a formal eviction notice for Chris, since you weren’t common law and your name was the only one on the deed. When you pulled up to the tiny curbside firm, it was clear by the unsurprised and sympathetic way she greeted you that she had heard the news. You visited a realtor, who was also a friend of yours, and it was clear she knew too. Word had obviously spread around your circle of friends. Nonetheless, she started the paperwork to put your home on the market - since you wanted nothing more than to escape the image of the deflowering of your kitchen. You also went about canceling everything you possibly could cancel about the wedding, pocketing every last cent that hadn’t been put towards the deposits.

By the late afternoon, you returned to the hotel room - not daring to stop by your house, knowing Chris would be there waiting for you. Instead, you looked to your phone again to find your email inbox ransacked, which could only mean one thing… the mothers had been informed. They had clearly received some sort of hint of infidelity, but had somehow warped themselves into a mindset that you were somehow responsible, and even more so irresponsible for not telling anyone where you were. Chris and Stephanie had clearly been yapping to get ahead of the scandal. It baffled you how two people who betrayed you would so shamelessly air their crimes to the whole damn town. It was yet another prompt to just power down your device. Last thing you needed was some bullshit lecture on how to save face by continuing to live a lie. There was some relief in your inbox, however. Your rapid STD test came back clean.

You sprawled your body across the bed, groaning as your sore muscles and joints stretched over the flat mattress. You were exhausted, and mindless - yet you also found yourself to be incredibly restless.

You were afraid of that moment - the moment when you stopped moving, and would once again be alone with your own thoughts. You feared your mind would be swarmed with the images of what you had seen in your kitchen, or would obsess over every little detail of your past that your paranoia could twist into signs of this affair. You didn’t know if it had been going on for weeks, months, or years, or if you had walked in on a one-night stand. But it didn’t really matter, your soul didn’t seem to care. Surprisingly, instead of thinking about them, all you could think about was Jungkook.

You had told him you would be up there in three days. It was at least a day's drive to get to him, and you had wanted time to get your break-up affairs in order before you made the long trek. But laying there, ignoring the list of things you still had to do, all you could think of was how you could escape. How he could help you escape.

You looked at your phone again, now noticing the condolence messages flooding your inbox from the effects of the town’s gossip line. You ignored them too, and pulled up Jungkook’s number.

You didn’t call him this time, you decided on a text.

Y/N: Is it alright if I come tomorrow instead of Friday? 8:49 PM JK: Of course. Text me when you’ve got an ETA. 8:49 PM

You hesitated about what to say next - unsure of how you were supposed to sign-off after you rescheduled your revenge dick appointment. You settled on a thumbs-up, and decided not to care if it was the wrong answer. You were supposed to be out of this Tinder-esq stage of your life, so you balked at the idea of diving right back in and learning the day's latest formalities. When Jungkook replied with a winky face, you felt the corner of your lips tug into a faint smile. It was strange… you were used to smiling everyday… but in the short past 26 hours you had spent miserable, you felt like you had forgotten how to. But somehow, a simple emoji from a man you hardly knew was breaking you back in.

You looked at the clock. It was already dark outside, and Jungkook was at least a fourteen hour drive away. The wise thing would be to go to sleep, and leave first thing in the morning. But again… nothing you were doing was wise. You were impulsive, and angry, and vengeful… and restless…

Without thinking much about it, you peeled yourself from your bed, padded your way into the bathroom to take a shower - and within the hour, you were packed up and checked out of your hotel room, on the highway north towards Jungkook’s remote town.

You drove through the night, and stopped early morning at a discount store in one of the passing villages. You didn’t have much with you - just the clothes on your back, and the bag of honeymoon lingerie which you had picked up on your way back home when you discovered the affair. It had been mocking you the whole ride with its no-return presence. Regardless, if your night with Jungkook was going to go as planned, clothes weren’t going to be a necessity, so you didn’t need much. You grabbed some $8 leggings, a few $3 tank tops, deodorant, toothbrush, hairbrush, razors, and underwear. You would have liked to grab something sexy, but there wasn’t much the discount bins offered in terms of intimates, and your bridal lingerie felt too perverse to wear.

As you rolled into the final hour of your trip, a mysterious feeling began to crawl through your system. All the negative energy from home and your relationships had been chasing you the whole way down the empty highway. But it was like those demons were blocked by an invisible salt line that guarded the border into Jungkook’s county. You were no longer angry, or bitter, or sad. You were… excited. Excited in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. Excited in a way that only the prospect of pure, uninhibited, no-strings attached sex could bring you. Like those first few times with that college fuckbuddy of yours - before you caught your agonizing feelings for him. In all these years, you hadn’t let yourself fantasize about Jungkook - even though deep down you wanted to. Thinking about him that way ironically felt like a betrayal to Stephanie. But now you could let those flood gates open. You wondered what kind of lover he was. Was he sweet? Rough? Both? Did he talk dirty? Have kinks? Did he like pleasuring women or did he use them like his personal fuck toy? What kinds of noises did he make when he slipped his cock into a woman? Did his body twitch and pulse when he came? As a person, he had always been such a mystery to you, and since Stephanie had never hooked up with him, he was a mystery as a lover as well - a mystery you were about to uncover. The purpose of fucking Jungkook was to leave Stephanie a jealous, spiteful mess on the floor, but it would be even more karmic if the man had the power to fuck you into forgetting she existed at all.

So, that’s how you found yourself parked on the shoulder of the highway, staring at your engagement photo, just thirty minutes away from Jungkook’s house.

you had another million missed calls, the most recent being from your step-mother. You hadn't heard a thing from your father, so you figured she was acting as his agent. He would be worried, you knew that, but he wasn't great at having difficult conversations, so you weren't surprised that she was the one calling you - but you were nonetheless disappointed. Before calling her back, you decided to check her last email to gauge where she currently stood.

It was a mistake...

She ranted about how you needed to forgive Chris, and how if you didn't, you would be expected to reimburse her and your father for all they had expended on your wedding - which was nothing... She must've been referring to hotel deposits and her dress.

"Bitch," you muttered into the car, just as a truck whizzed by you on the highway. You scrolled through a few more notifications, assessing their general context by the first few paragraphs which were visible from the homepage, but ultimately decided that you would continue to ice everyone out for a few more days. Then you came to the winky face...

Jungkook.

You hadn't spoken to him since the rescheduling the night before. That was probably stupid on your part. He likely expected you to arrive early evening, but since you had impulsively decided to drive through the night without sending word, you were now only thirty-minutes away, and he might not even be home, nonetheless awake.

You typed out a simple message, letting him know how close you were, then hovered over the send button as you questioned whether or not you should send it. You thought about finding another motel room and just holding up there until the afternoon – maybe take a well needed nap. You also thought again about just turning around and leaving this place and Jungkook all together.

Your phone sprang to life, as Chris' name popped onto the screen with an incoming call. You sighed, forgetting about your Jungkook dilemma, now focusing on the should-I-finally-talk-to-Chris crisis. What could he possibly say? Was he going to leave you for Stephanie, or was he going to try to make this right? How could he even begin to make this right? Did you want him to make it right? Had you worked out what you wanted to say to him?

After the fourth ring, you swiped the "pick-up" button, and put the phone to your ear. You didn't greet him, but you didn't really need to, because Chris' voice immediately began to call to you through the receiver.

"Y/N? Y/N are you there?" he asked repeatedly, his voice strained and remorseful.

Good, you thought. You were happy to hear his agony. Regardless, you felt the urge to hang right back up, figuring things could only go downhill from there. But you didn’t. Instead, you waited silently on the other end, feeling your breath begin to lengthen and tighten in a seething hiss. You didn't want to say anything, didn't want him to have the privilege of hearing your voice, but as he pleaded and begged for you to give him some indication you were listening, you eventually responded.

"I'm here."

"Babe, I'm so sorry! Please come home, I can explain everything."

You rolled your eyes. What on earth was there to be explained? He had sex with another woman, just a month away from your wedding. "You can explain now. You have 3 minutes."

He choked, a clear sign that he wasn't prepared to actually explain anything. "Please, we should talk face to face. I'll come to you, just tell me where you are - everyone is so worried about you."

You then felt a new rage bubble up inside. The only reason why “everyone was worried” was because Chris had the nerve to spread your humiliation across town before you even had the chance to process it. You swallowed, trying to keep your words from escaping your lips in screams.

"Exactly why is everyone worried about me, Chris?"

He paused again, hearing the venom in your voice, and realizing he was treading into dangerous territory he hadn't anticipated. "Because, um, they know you're upset."

"And how would they know I was upset, Chris? I certainly didn't tell anybody that you were caught fucking my best friend."

"I… we… We were just worried about you, that's all. We were calling around, trying to find out where you had gone so we knew you were all right.”

You felt your face heat. We. He was talking about him and Stephanie as a "we" now? On top of that, he was seriously suggesting you would become "unsafe" because of them? Like they had that sort of power over you? You were utterly insulted by the implication. If you could've teleported yourself in front of them both right then, you would show them exactly how "unsafe" you could become. But you couldn't...

You looked at your surroundings, appreciating the remote, frontier feelings you got from the old, tall green trees and rocky landscape before you. You were miles away from Chris, and Stephanie, and your stepmother, and everyone who either pitied you or blamed you. You were not far from a man whom you hardly knew, but somehow you knew he wouldn’t pigeonhole you into either of those categories... He just wanted to fuck - that thought made you smile and caused a naughty tingle to reverberate through your guts.

"Please, Y/N," Chris pleaded with you. "I love you. I want to marry you. This was just a stupid mistake. It only happened once and it'll never happen again, I swear. Just come home, and I'll answer any questions you have."

You placed the phone on the dashboard and set it to speaker. You then began shuffling through your bag to find your emergency makeup products. "I'm not coming home,” you announced. “I'm up north."

"Why?" he asked. The confusion in his voice painted a clear picture in your mind of the stupid look he currently had on his face.

"I'm visiting Jungkook. You remember him. Your brother's friend."

"Your..." he stuttered again. He was seriously confused now. That name would have been the last thing he'd have expected to hear. "Why are you visiting him?"

You flipped down the mirror and began inspecting yourself, applying a light stain to your lips. With your limited supplies, there wasn’t much else you could correct about your appearance, but pretending to fix yourself up felt like something a powerful, cold-hearted seductress in a movie would do, and that was the confidence you craved right then.

"Because," you chirped as you gently wiped away the errant line of your lip colour, "I called him."

The phone went silent, and you smiled menacingly as you imagined how tortured Chris was becoming.

He started to say one thing, then stopped, then tried to ask something else, then stopped, until finally he settled on asking simply, "Why him?"

You considered telling him the real reason: to get back at Stephanie. But you decided since Jungkook was also irritating Chris, you wanted to twist the dagger.

"I just really needed someone to talk to,” your tone was condescending, and laced with implication – just enough for Chris to understand that sex was a possibility, but enough nuance to drive him crazy wondering if you were really going to fuck another man.

“I didn’t think you two were friends,” Chris said after a beat.

“Well, it didn’t take a lot of convincing on his part. I guess he wants to get to know me better.”

The moment you said it, your insides began to flutter. You and Jungkook were going to get to know each other better – you were just going to get to know each other better in the biblical sense. The notion somehow granted you a modicum of relief from your anger, and replaced the gap with erotic excitement. You were now bored of this conversation with Chris, and you knew now that you weren’t going to be checking into another motel room.

“Please, Y/N, don’t do this,” Chris spoke slow, and his voice shook. You were impressed that he wasn’t angry, and glad that he was hurting. “We can fix this. I will do anything. I love you. Please just come home.”

You took a deep inhale, then exhaled long and slow. You really had no idea what you should be doing. Was turning the car around and hearing Chris out the "right thing to do?" Was throwing away your two-year relationship too rash? Was fucking another man for revenge too ruthless and reckless? You really didn’t know the answer to what you should do – but you did know what you wanted to do…

“Goodbye, Chris,” you said, clicking the end call button. Before Chris had the chance to call you back, you dialed Jungkook’s number, and were pleased when he picked up on the second ring.

“You on the road?” he asked, not bothering with the formality of a hello.

“I drove all night,” you announced without a hint of remorse. “I’m half an hour away.”

“Mm,” Jungkook hummed in amusement, and you weren’t quite sure what it meant.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all. It’s a welcomed surprise.”

You bit your lip, unsure if he was flirting with you or pacifying you. “I just couldn’t sleep last night. I know, I seem insane.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want. I’m just… glad what you’re doing is working out in my favour.”

You bit harder on your lip as the corner of your mouth fought to wind up into a grin. He was definitely flirting, and it felt pretty damn good.

“Here I thought it was you who was doing me a favour.”

“Ha!” he laughed, and a part of you wished you were there to witness it. You hadn’t seen a lot of his smile over the years – but on the rare occasions that you did, you found it to be infectious. “Well… we haven’t done anything yet. So, how about you get here, and we can sort out whose reaping the greater benefits.”

Your face and shoulders scrunched as you felt the onset of a giddy blush. “Sure. I turn left at the mill, right?”

“Yeah. You want me to meet you so you don’t get lost?”

“No, no. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Alright. Call me if you need help and I’ll come find you.”

“Thanks,” you said, then paused as you once again wondered how to end your communications with this man. “See you soon then I guess.”

“Yeah. I look forward to, uh... seeing you,” he responded, rounding the words with salacious implication. Then he hung up.

You reached into your shopping bag for your deodorant, some wipes, toothbrush, and one of your new tank tops – desiring a costume change and a little freshening up in case you got to Jungkook’s house and things got hot and heavy quickly. Your phone rang a few more times while you did, and you ignored it. You didn’t care who was calling or what they had to say. You also didn’t care that you had flashed a pick-up truck full of redneck frat boys as you switched out your top.

Quickly enough, you were back on the road, powering along the highway feeling refreshed in every sense. Your bitterness was gone, your libido was in full swing, and your pits no longer smelled like you had spent 14 hours in a car.

The road into Jungkook’s house was basically a narrow, dirt path, and you had to drive rather slowly to avoid the potholes and forest debris – but it was difficult to keep a slow pace, since your heart was pounding a mile faster with each passing minute. You were relieved when you recognized the turn into his hidden driveway, and you felt your knuckles relax over the steering wheel as your car crested into the clearing, and his cabin-esq house came into view. You crawled the car into what looked like a parking space. You wanted to take another minute, or two, or twenty, to sit in your car and hype yourself up to just get out. But Jungkook would surely know you were there already. The front of his vaulted home was mostly comprised of floor to ceiling windows, which looked out over the lawn and valley far beyond the tree line. You already looked insane for calling him, propositioning him, then driving through the night – you didn’t need to become another untouchably sweaty mess while you physically and emotionally melted down in his driveway under the hot spring sun. So, you grabbed your shopping bag, which you had stuff with all your present belongings, exited the car, and walked up to his front door.

You stood on the stoop, staring at the door as you took another heavy breath, then reached forward to ring the bell. The house was quiet from inside for a long time, making you worry he was going to force you to ring the bell again. But eventually, you heard the soft padding of movement as someone crossed the floor towards the front door. You heard the click of the doorknob, the snap of the sticky weatherstripping as the door broke away from the frame, and then… he was there.

Jungkook, standing tall and solid before you, with every ounce of his sex appeal on display. He had changed in so many ways since the last time you saw him. His face was sharper and more masculine. His arm which was once covered in dainty tattoos was now covered from wrist to shoulder in an array of heavy ink and colour. He was bigger… everywhere. The simple act of holding his door open put his solid biceps and the veins that traced his forearms on full display. His neck was thicker, and the solid plains of his chest were noticeable beneath his plain white t-shirt. Hell, it was possible he even grew taller – you felt tiny in his shadow. His hair was longer than you had seen it before – almost shoulder length, the top half held back in the epitome of an artist’s bun, aside from long strands which acted as bangs to fall carelessly into his eyes.

You stopped breathing for a millisecond. Not long ago you thought you were nearly invisible to this man. Yet, in your time of need, this Adonis had invited you of all people to his home and promised you an exchange of unadulterated pleasure.

He looked you over, just as you looked him over – but his face gave away nothing, whereas yours you were sure gave away everything. He may have changed in many ways since the last time you saw him, but his impassive, signature nonchalance was still very much present. Or was it? For just a brief moment, your eyes locked, and you thought you saw heat burning behind his cool-guy visage. You really hoped that’s what you were seeing. Fucking this man would be great, you were sure, but being truly desired by him would be fucking magnificent.

After a silent moment between you - one you were surprised wasn’t at all awkward - he stepped aside, making way for you to enter his home. Without a word between you, you stepped across the threshold, and into the foyer as Jungkook closed the door behind you.

Go to Chapter 3.

[ansitasahu09]

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