#going through the same thing on her laptop in ses

[pinkshadesofshame]

liz makes me feel so much better oh my god seeing her struggle in the same way I did trying to pay this fucking ticket like thank you I feel so much less crazy

[superthatguy62]

Rant/Argument: Why Jack should not be THE Garland

Let me preface this by saying: I like Jack. I unfortunately have not played Stranger of Paradise myself as I lack the means to do so (None of the big consoles + My laptop can’t even run Dissidia NT or FFXIV. Given the horror stories I’ve heard of the PC port’s optimization, I’m not holding my breath), but I have seen playthroughs and have seen the story unfold. And Jack is a great guy, even once you get past the “I NEED TO KILL CHAOS” memes. Heck, especially after that.

But I have seen people treating Jack and Garland as the same guy and suggesting the latter is the will of the former made manifest due to Opera Omnia.

And that would be ruin Dissida Garland’s character if so.

And, instead of getting into an argument in Youtube comment sections and trying to ignore that the concepts of retcons are a thing, I’m going to summarize all three Garlands in order to argue that making Dissidia Garland an extension of Jack (rather than both being variants of the same guy) is a Bad Idea Actually meaning that SE is totally going to do it.

The nature of this essay means that it should go without saying, but spoilers for all three games: FF1, Dissidia (including Opera Omnia and everything in between) and Stranger of Paradise (including the DLCs)

Part 1: A Brief Summary of Garland

This is Garland.

Garland was once a knight of Cornelia and well beloved by all. However, his heart belonged to one person: Princess Sarah of Cornelia. However, Garland had unknowingly been corrupted in some fashion. When Sarah rejected the knight’s feelings, he snapped: He kidnapped the fair maiden, locked them both in the Chaos Shrine and killed anyone who tried to save her.

Eventually four travelers appear, each holding a crystal fragment with radiant light. The King, suspecting that the four are the Warriors of Light, tested them by tasking them with rescuing Sarah. The four entered the Chaos Shrine and fought Garland. Cornelia’s best wound up slain, liberating Sarah and ending his tale.

...At least, one would think.

Eventually, the Warriors of Light realized that the energy that the Four Fiends had siphoned from the crystal was converging upon the Chaos Shrine. Learning of a true villain who had fled through time, the Warriors of Light chased after, arriving at the Chaos Shrine 2000 years in the past. It is there that they defeat the fiends once more and confront the real villain: Garland.

Wait, what?!

Garland explains (and the ending elaborates):

As Garland lay dying in the Chaos Shrine, the four great powers (i.e. the crystals) sent Garland back in time. There, Garland would absorb their powers and send the Four Fiends forward in time who, in-turn will bring Garland back. Garland himself would reign as Chaos for a time, but eventually the power will leave him[1]. In effect, this creates a time loop that will allow Garland to live forever; Just ignore any silly questions or issues like “Doesn’t Garland only exist within the loop now?” and “That’s the most pointless form of immortality ever”.

At some point however, a freak miracle happens: The Warriors of Light manage to defeat Chaos in the past, one of two ways the cycle could be broken. As a result, the entire cycle collapses and is erased from existence. The game notes Garland is among the people waiting for the Warriors of Light in the new future and while it is ambiguous, one could draw the conclusion that the event that caused Garland to snap no longer occurred and he was back to the paragon that he once was.

[1]Some retellings embellish a few details (MoH makes the fiends natural creatures and gives the corrupted Garland an entitlement complex, Brave Exvius and few other sources imply that Garland’s rage gets stronger with each cycle, giving more of a end-goal).

Part 2: A Not-So-Brief Summary of Garland.

This is Garland.

Garland was pulled into the past by his own hand to continue the time loop that would result in him living forever. However, at some point during the 2000 year long wait, he is suddenly hit with a realization: This was a terrible idea. But alas, despite no desire to continue the plan, he knows that eventually his rage will get the best of him, he will make “an irreparable mistake” and that he is doomed to live out the Cycle once more, a thought that leaves even the mighty Garland afraid.

However, he finds that he has hit a snag: Rather than being in 2000 years into the past, he is actually in another dimension. More specifically, he is in World B, a parallel version of his world that was already in ruins. There he meets three people: Cid, a Lufenian scientist hired by 'the state’ to make a superweapon. Cosmos, a manikin of Cid’s wife created to control said superweapon after Cid and his wife refused to work with 'the state’ any further. And finally, the superweapon in question, a nameless manikin created by stuffing memories from 10+ people into one manikin, and has the innocence and disposition of a newborn child.

Intrigued by this creature which looks akin to the form he is fated to take, Garland bonds with the creature, later dubbing him Chaos. Shinryu, who entered this world prior to the others stumbling upon it, appears and soon a pact is made: Cosmos would become the Goddess of Harmony while Chaos would become the God of Discord and the two would use pawns created by Cid summon warriors to act as their pawns and wage war with each other. Each time one side won, Shinryu would purify those that fell (while also absorbing their memories to become stronger, unbeknownst to everyone else) and the battles would continue. With each cycle, Chaos would grow stronger in hopes of him becoming strong enough to return to World A, with Garland acting as his mentor and faithful servant out of sympathy.

However, it eventually became clear that that the cycles would not end any time soon. In fact, it became clearer and clearer that the cycles would never end. Realizing that he has effectively traded one cycle for another, Garland does the only thing he could do to cope with his fate: If he is to do endless battle, then he may as well savor it. Garland became (or at least, put on the appearance) of one obsessed with battle, all to mask his despair at being a slave to fate.

Of course, all of this is contrasted by the Warrior of Light. He is one of the Warriors destined to clash with Garland and while Garland himself is disillusioned at the possibility of breaking free of the Cycle due to having lived it for so long, the comparatively new Warrior of Light has faith that it will be broken. After being confronted by the Warriors of Cosmos for one final time, Garland reveals that Chaos intends to destroy both himself and the world. When asked if he is alright with this, Garland simply states that all he needs is to find another cycle and the soul of strife shall endure.

Eventually, Garland would be pulled into World B again, this time to fight on behalf of Spiritus, one of the two new gods of the newly rebooted World B. The new world ends up under the threat of Shinryu (Who’s still miffed that Cid went back on their deal and wants that sweet sweet energy) who ends up defeated. Garland leaves behind a copy of himself to act as one of Spiritus’ champions for the sake of rebuilding World B via battle energy and goes home.

This is also Garland.

(Well, so’s the guy above, but this makes for a better segue, so shush).

This Garland is (presumably, OO is kinda strange with this relation) the Garland that was created due to the events above. He hungers for battle and...

Look, I’ll break character and level with you here: Opera Omnia’s plotline is kinda spotty to me. I was on and off in Act 2 and by 3 I stopped caring for reasons that are obvious if you’re familiar with this blog’s wheelhouse. Not helping matters is that it’s unclear in and of itself how OO relates to NT, being more of an alternate continuity than a continuation. But I do know some of the things about it, especially as pertaining to the end of Act 2.

Things have gone bad and Shinryu is getting ready to snack on the World of Respite/Conflict/whatever the nature of the world kind of drifted the more its significance became stressed. The Warrior of Light leads the heroes into battle against the villains who are opposing them because of course they are. The last of these villains is Garland who, despite the world crumbling around him, still wants to battle. But don’t worry, Garland does want to preserve the world. After all, where else will he do battle?

Just as the original Garland is implied to have turned to battle to cope with his situation, this Garland turns to battle to cope with his existence, or rather his lackthereof. The Warrior of Light succeeded, meaning that Garland returned to being the honorable knight he once was... But this Garland is derived from the Chaos which no longer exists.

Eventually, the damage is done. The world begins to collapse. The Warrior of Light sends his newfound allies into the new world, choosing to remain with Garland. Then, to keep the world stable he and Garland clash for eternity until Act 3.

Some more Garland shenanigans happen in Act 3, but this section is long enough as is and I do not want to discuss Act 3 so just know that WoL and Garland have been slowly but surely being pushed as the new gods of Harmony and Discord respectively. 

But Garland’s not the only one in the running for that title...

Part 3: A Very Brief Summary of Chaos (?)

This is Chaos Advent, formerly known as Chaos (?).

Chaos Advent awaited the Warriors of Light in the Chaos Shrine. Based on Princess Sarah’s description of him, he appears to be Garland: The Knight of Cornelia who left to vanquish Chaos and not only never returned, but seemingly faded from the memory of all but Sarah. In truth, Garland had fallen to the darkness and now wishes to become Chaos.

Jack punches his face in and darkness fades away to reveal... a just-narrowly-not-a-teenage girl named Neon. 

Neon did not believe that Chaos existed and sought to give the people hope. Thus  she took the guise of Chaos to give the people a physical representation of Chaos to defeat, in hopes of inspiring hope.

But what of Garland? If “Chaos” wasn’t him, then who was he?

Well, to say his true identity would be a spoiler. If you are truly

It’s Garland.

Jack Garland.

Jack is Chaos.

Part 3.5: A Brief Summary of Jack

This is Jack Garland.

He wants to kill Chaos.

Jack Garland is one of the four Warriors of Light alongside his friends Ashe and Jed. Soon, two more followers join the Warriors of Light (3): a girl named Neon and a woman named Sophia. Together, the quartet (5) go to awaken the crystals with the help of the mysterious Astos, the king of Dark Elves. While awakening the crystals, however, they fight four monsters that are guarding them. These monsters turn into humans when they die and Jack’s allies begin regaining their memories... slowly revealing that they’ve done this before and they themselves are the monsters.

When the party returns to Cornelia, they find that they have not saved the world and, in fact, things are even worse as the crystals intensify their respective elements. They hunt down Astos who eventually reveals the truth behind the Stranger Project, with further pieces coming in as monsters attack Cornelia. Despite Jack and his allies’ efforts, the monsters kill the royal family, including Princess Sarah. It is at this point that Jack’s memory begins to return in full force and the full picture starts setting in.

Lufenia faced a problem: Cornelia’s darkness buildup was getting too intense. In just 2000 or so years, the buildup will reach critical mass and blow up the kingdom. It is at this point that a “mysterious collaborator” appears who gifts them a dimensional matrix crystal, allowing them to manipulate time and space. All the collaborator asks in return is that Lufenia pipelines the excess energy generated by the resets back to them. With their shiny new toy, Lufenia engages the Stranger Project: recruiting people from other worlds (?) to go around and maintain the balance between darkness and light.

Unfortunately, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and in this case, the road quickly became a highway..

Lufenia became arrogant with their newfound tech. Staging their own collapse, Lufenia moved to a pocket dimension where they could observe other worlds.  Out of the Cornelians’ reach, Lufenia began experimenting with the world, warping and mutating its inhabitants and changing regions to resemble those in the other dimensions they’ve been peeping at.

Fortunately for Cornelia, Jack Garland would not stand for this. Jack concocted a complex plan beginning by giving his Dark Crystal to Princess Sarah. As a result, his memories were totally buried. Then, Astos and his friends would push Jack and lead him down a path that resulted in him becoming Chaos.

And said plan concludes with the other Strangers attacking Jack, forcing him to kill them.

The plan works. Jack storms the Chaos Shrine, heads for Lufenia and absorbs their Darkness made Manifest. The Lufenians decide to cut their losses, sealing off the station connected to Jack’s world. And when Jack’s boss tells him to look out for the Warriors of Light, she gives Jack an idea...

At the Chaos Shrine, Jack and his friends/fiends hatch a new plan: Create their own Warriors of Light to act as a beacon of hope for Cornelia. And if they must die for Cornelia to no longer worry about Darkness, then so be it.

Meanwhile, Jack’s boss is pissed that Jack got one up on her. Initially, she lures Gilgamesh to Jack’s location before sending a Death Machine in hopes of killing him. When that fails, she sends Lufenia into chaos in order to claim two pieces of crystal ore: One that gives her power over the Interdimensional Rift and one that allows her to create manikins.

All of this catches the attention of a lone moogle. The moogle is not from Lufenia but World B a world of eternal conflict. But the world that the moogle hails from is reliant on the future of Jack’s world, and if Jack’s world gets erased, the Moogle’s will go with it. Thus, the Moogle brings Jack to Lufenia in order to stop Jack’s former boss Nil from preventing that future from coming to pass.

Of course, the moogle is no ordinary moogle: Said moogle is actually a manifestation of Cosmos’ will and is implied to have been active behind the scenes for quite a while. The Moogle’s endgoal  is to to push Jack into the role of the new God of Discord (whatever happened to Spiritus is left unsaid, assuming the moogle is even referring to a post-NT timeline).

Upon defeating Nil, one of two outcomes occurs.

In the first timeline, Nil drops the crystal, which Jack refuses to use. The moogle questions Jack in ways implying that it wants Jack to pick up the crystal, but Jack refuses. He and his allies go home and live out their roles of being defeated by the Warriors of Light.

However, in a Different Future (TM), The Emperor of Palamecia (who had previously appeared in Lufenia, having tailed the moogle) appears after Nil’s death and seizes the crystal. Jack naturally beats him up, but accidentally absorbs the crystal in the process. His future secured, the moogle informs Jack that now he must take his role as the God of Discord and that he, opposite and alongside the Warrior of Light as the God of Harmony, will be the foundation for a new world.

Part 5: Now that that’s all settled

What’s the problem with Jack and Dissidia Garland being the same individual?

Because it ruins both Dissidia Garland and Jack’s characters.

Dissidia Garland is a natural extension of FF1 Garland. Even in the original game, it’s said that Garland used to be a paragon of Cornelia until very recently. In some of his interactions, especially those with Chaos, you can kind of see it.

In the end, Garland is not just a villain, but he’s a man who’s trapped. Trapped in a destiny of his own making. He’s just as much a victim of his own scheme as anyone else: But the difference is that he himself created it.

As a certain well-known movie once put it:

It also adds to his relation to Chaos. Garland was reminded of himself when he met Chaos, which is why he becomes Chaos’ right-hand. If one takes supplementary material into account, then the spinoffs alluding to Garland’s rage getting stronger over the course of the cycles could relate to Chaos’ fate in Dissidia as well: Becoming more and more powerful with each cycle to the point that 012′s post-story storyline takes place in a nightmare reality where the cycles never ended: Chaos snaps and kills both sets of warriors, reduced to a Feral Desperado... Thing.

Is that what Garland could have potentially ended up as?

Meanwhile Jack’s story is different. Yeah, sure he and his friends become Chaos and the Fiends and that’s a bummer, but the story as a whole is a “The Real Story” type deal. Thus Jack and his friends aren’t the real villains, Lufenia is. Pay no mind to how little you’ll pity them when Tiamat forces them out of their sky castle.

Jack’s story is still tragic, but the bitterness of it being a consequence of his own actions is lost. Garland ruined the entire world all because his rage got the better of him. He has no one but himself to blame and the hopelessness it’s implied that he feels suggests that even he himself knows it. Jack’s massive plan is a direct response to Lufenia’s shenanigans.  Jack’s situation is more akin to Ramza’s, where he and his allies will go down in history as monsters as no one knows the truth.

However, all of that is ok, because Jack’s story is not

This is not his own masterpiece.

This is also ignoring all of the dev interviews and even the moogle and the Emperor saying that Jack resembles the man from the world of conflict, but is not actually him.

Fin: A Brief Conclusion

IT’S TIME FOR THE OBLIGATORY FF3 MENTION/RANT

Onion Knight in Dissidia is a character I love-hate. I can’t say I hate him all that much: I main him in Dissidia 012, he gets lots of good fanart, I used him extensively in Record Keeper and Brave Exvius  and his “little shit” attitude is fun.

But, I do not care about Onion Knight’s story. Indeed, as I alluded to above, when Onion Knight became the main protagonist of Opera Omnia’s story, I completely lost interest. I was even annoyed at how the finale ended.

Is it Onion Knight’s fault though? YesNo.

While I like Onion Knight, I prefer Luneth, Arc, Refia and Ingus. Onion Knight standing in place of the does not endear me as much as him standing alongside them. Perhaps it is because they don’t involve the FF characters in the plot, but Record Keeper and Brave Exvius understand this. Record Keeper even implies a connection between Onion Knight and the remake characters.

By contrast, Opera Omnia, the game where characters actually interact and can flex their characterization, which of the two groups is in the game at the time of this writing, and which isn’t: The four who had vague personalities in the source material or the one who only had a personality in the fighting game spinoff (Hint: It’s the one that’s only a single character)? 

At the same time though, I don’t want Onion Knight removed from the series either. Not only because of what my big issue with him is (one of a few, admittedly), but because I know that there are people that like him. I’ve been on the receiving end of the “neglect” stick, but I don’t necessarily want the other group to be simply take my place. Both can co-exist.

But what does this have to do with (Jack) Garland?

Because Garland is the same, but also different.

Opera Omnia does not hide the fact that Jack is Garland. Jack even gets his Garland armor as an alternate costume, recreating Chaos’ pose from the game logo.

But unlike Cecil or Yda, whose alternate forms cannot co-exist, Jack and Garland are treated as separate characters. As Garland was away for quite a while, they could have found some way for the Warrior of Light to restore Garland’s sanity or write some way to turn Garland into Jack or otherwise. Instead, they had Jack show up and interact with Dissidia Garland. And while Dissidia Garland is based on a Garland that no longer exists, Jack’s comments at the end of the Act suggest that he isn’t from that point; He intends to use the power of light to find a way to get home so that he can build his own Warriors of Light. If Jack truly is from that fixed future (and still alive, given that SoP was ambiguous with Jack’s fate in the true ending and the fact that Jack and his friends aren’t from Cornelia, look the timeline nonsense is weird, OK?) then why does he have memories of a timeline that no longer exists (whereas WoL at least has the excuse of having been there and lived, “memories buried in his heart” etc etc.)? 

With how blatant a tie-in the Different Future DLC is, it is inevitable that Dissidia Opera Omnia will tackle both Jack and Garland (Act 3 started, but hasn’t done too much yet. Act 4 introduces Neon and Astos to liven things up). Only time will tell where the story goes exactly, but so far, all indications seem to treat Jack and Garland as separate characters. And you know what?

That’s probably the best option.

Still, regardless of how one feels, there are fans who love Jack. 

There are fans who love OG Garland. 

They don’t need to be explicitly connected to co-exist

(Plus, no offense to Jack’s VA, he did a superb job, but Christopher Sabat Garland is hard to beat).

[mollybecameanengineer]

Internet Porn

Summary: An incident with an internet browser history leads to a (hopefully non-judgmental) awkward conversation. Set in 2013 in a universe where Mulder and Scully raised William.

@today-in-fic

Read on AO3 or continue below.

“Shit,” Scully murmured, looking down at the iPad. Her finger had slipped and closed the wrong tab. On a laptop she knew that ctrl-shift-t would reopen it, but on an iPad? She hit the three dots in the upper right and looked around in the menu. There was a history option — that would work. It was, after all, the last thing she’d been looking at. 

So, without thinking, she opened the history on the iPad that Mulder primarily used. 

Porn. 

Lots and lots of porn filled the list of previously viewed sites.

“Holy crap…” she muttered as she scrolled through the list. 

Scully, of course, knew of Mulder’s porn habit — they’d been scattered around their office and his apartment in the early days. The two of them had even watched some after they’d started sleeping together. But she hadn’t seen any porn around in years. It hadn't occurred to her that he had transitioned to online content. 

As she continued to scroll through the list she was kind of impressed that, at nearly 52, he had this much stamina. They had sex a couple times a week, and based on the timestamps on this list, he was taking care of himself on a daily (or maybe more than daily) basis.

Morbid curiosity getting the better of her, she started reading the names of the sites. Lots of bondage, spanking, ass play… which she found surprising. Back in the day his porn had been, honestly, pretty vanilla. He had a few girl on girl tapes, but mostly it was variations on inviting the pizza man in. But this. This was not at all vanilla. This was a lot of BDSM. She and Mulder had only done the most tame of these types of things. She didn’t like to be held down or restrained (she had a lot of trauma around that, which she knew she should probably go to therapy for…). They did take turns ‘torturing’ each other with short term orgasm denial, but Scully hardly thought that was racy. And she did like it if he really pounded her sometimes, but who didn’t? 

The more she looked at it, the more she realized how strange this all was. The Google search terms were things like: ‘big black cocks’ and ‘big boobs titty fucking’. Neither of the searches made her uncomfortable, per se, but they did confuse her. Mulder had never mentioned an interest in men. (They’d once had a conversation about a girl she’d been with in college, and he didn’t mention being attracted to men. But he was also really focused on her telling him about this, so maybe he’d been distracted.) He’d also never mentioned really liking boobs (more than the average man). Maybe he was trying to save her feelings about not being well endowed in that area. Though she was pretty sure she could push them together enough for titty fucking if that’s what he wanted. 

“Whoa, whatcha looking at there?”

Scully jumped. Mulder was leaning over her shoulder, reading the list. “What am I looking at?” she said, turning to face him. “What have you been looking at?”

Mulder took the iPad, scrolling through the list. “This wasn’t me.” Scully gave him a look. “What?” He handed her back the tablet. “First off, I know you don’t care, so why would I lie? Second, I know how to use incognito mode.” 

“Well, it wasn’t me, and if it wasn't you…” she trailed off, realizing who it was. She squeaked and dropped the iPad. 

Will.

Mulder must have realized at the same time, as he was now scrubbing his face with his hands and moaning. “Well, he is twelve…”

“Exactly! He’s only twelve!” She picked back up the iPad and looked at the list with new eyes. 

“Oh, come on, I know I was playing five on one by that age. Weren’t you giving yourself a hand by then?”

Scully sighed. “Yes, I was masturbating by age twelve.” Most of her memories revolved around trying to find a private spot in a house with six people and one bathroom. “I know it’s healthy for him to be… exploring himself, but this? I didn’t know what any of this was at twelve”

Mulder took back the iPad and started scrolling. “Wow. Things are really different these days. I only had the Sears catalog to work with until I was fifteen.”

“What happened at fifteen?”

“I got a Playboy.”

“How?”

“I bought it.”

Scully furrowed her brow. “I ask again: how? They don’t sell them to kids.”

“There was a store that… you know, this isn’t about me and the shit I did to jerk off.” Mulder continued scrolling. “You know what? I’m just disappointed.”

“In what? What he’s looking at?”

Mulder raised his eyes. “Oh, no, that he left this much evidence behind. I mean, how could a child of ours leave tracks like this? Especially when incognito mode exists.”

“Should I be worried about what you’re doing in incognito mode?”

Mulder laughed. “Oh, I only use it to buy you gifts, just like it suggests — woah.”

Scully maneuvered to look over his shoulder. “What?”

“To be honest, this is probably more than I wanted to know about my son’s tastes,” he said, pointing to the title of one site.

“What’s ‘pegging’?” Scully asked, though based on Mulder’s reaction, she probably didn’t want to know.

“It’s uh, when a woman wears a dildo and fucks a guy in the ass.”

Scully put her head in her hands. Mulder was right, this was too much information. She grabbed the iPad back and deleted the history before she could overthink it. “We are invading his privacy by looking at this, however,” she took a breath, “you have to talk to him.”

“Me?! Why me?! And about what? We can’t stop him from looking at porn, all we can do is make him feel bad about it.”

“First off, you because you’re also a guy and I can guarantee he doesn’t want to talk with me more than he doesn’t want to talk to you. Second, I’m not concerned about the porn in and of itself, it’s that he needs to know that porn and reality are two separate things, and with all this BDSM content, you need to have a conversation about consent. And third, you’re the porn expert, not me.”

“Don’t think I don’t know about your ‘romance novels’, woman,” Mulder said, making use of air quotes. Scully shot him a look, and he acquiesced with a sigh. “Ok, fine.”

“Oh, and make sure he knows we love him and support him if he’s bi or gay.”

“Scully, he knows.” Mulder came around the couch and sat next to her. “We’ve been telling him that and using gender neutral language his whole life.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But it can’t hurt to tell him again, right?”

***

Mulder took a deep breath as he stood in front of his son’s door. He really didn’t want to have this talk. He’d thought this part of parenting was over two years ago when Scully had given Will a very clinical description of the birds and the bees. Mulder’s only role in the whole conversation was to affirm that he was available for any questions Will might have. And since there had never been any questions, Mulder thought he was home free. 

Taking another breath to fortify himself, Mulder knocked on Will’s door. 

“Come in,” Will responded, and Mulder entered. 

Will was sitting on his bed, listening to some crazy music Mulder couldn’t identify, and reading a comic book. “Hey, could we talk for a few minutes?” Mulder asked, shutting the door behind him

Will looked at him, suspicious. As he should be, Mulder mulled. This was very much not a normal interaction.

“Did I do something?”

Mulder sat on the office chair that was at the desk, next to the bed. He didn’t know how to respond, thinking both yes and no were wrong answers. Rather than pausing too long at this juncture, Mulder plowed ahead, hoping to get in and out of the conversation as quickly as possible. “Your mom and I found your internet history on the iPad.”

Will looked confused at first, then all the blood drained from his face. Mulder continued, quickly, “We don’t want you to feel bad or ashamed about any of it, but we need to discuss a couple things.” 

Mulder had pulled a childhood psychology book from university out to take a look at what it has to say about these types of conversations. It emphasized that the child should be comfortable and engaged in the conversation as much as possible. 

Will was sitting there looking panicked. 

Mulder cleared his throat. “First off, we thought it would be easier for you to talk to me than your mom about porn. However, if talking with her would make you more comfortable, that’s ok.”

Part of Mulder wanted Will to prefer Scully, just so he wouldn’t have to have this uncomfortable conversation (and risk fucking it up). But he also knew he’d be upset if his son did prefer Scully. 

“Not having this conversation would make me the most comfortable,” Will replied.

Mulder chuckled. “Nice try, but not an option.”

“You’re fine,” Will sighed, and hid his face in his hands. 

A ringing endorsement if Mulder ever heard one. “So,” Mulder cleared his throat, “we saw that you were looking at a lot of BDSM content—”

“You guys know what that is?” Will interrupted, an eye peaking between his fingers.

“Uh, yeah. This stuff isn’t new.”

Will returned to hiding his head in his hands. Mulder continued on. “There is nothing wrong with liking it, everyone has their kinks.”

“Even you guys?” Will’s hands were slowly leaving his face. 

“Well sure,” Mulder replied. When Will didn’t say anything, Mulder continued on. “I mean, for example, I like it when a woman is, you know… bossy.” 

Mulder wasn’t sure what to expect from his confession of enjoying being dominated, but laughter wasn’t it. Will was laughing so hard that he was gasping for air. “Hey,” Mulder interjected, “It isn’t nice to laugh when someone reveals something personal.”

“Sorry,” Will said, wiping his eyes. “It’s just that, of course you do. You're with Mom.”

Mulder didn’t know how to reply to that. He decided a reset was probably best. “What I’m trying to say is that everyone has their thing. And your thing is fine. But it inherently comes with issues of consent—”

“Like safe words?”

“Way before safe words,” Mulder replied. “It’s just that BDSM porn can look like forcing someone is ok, or hurting them is ok, and I want to make sure you understand consent.”

“Dad, I know rape is bad.”

Well, I should fucking hope so, Mulder thought. Aloud, he said, “I know, but when you’re with a partner,” many years from now, God willing, “you need to get a yes from them before proceeding.  And they need a yes from you. Just not saying no isn’t good enough. You need to be in communication about everything that is happening, and make sure you’re both ok with it.” On a roll, Mulder continued, “And porn is absolutely nothing like real sex. I don’t think I’ve ever had a sexual encounter that looked anything like porn. None of the women I’ve been with—”

“Wait, you’ve slept with someone other than Mom?” Will again interrupted.

“Will, we didn’t get together until the year 2000. I wasn’t a 38 year old virgin.”

“How old were you then, the first time?”

This conversation was not going at all as Mulder imagined. Although at this moment, Mulder was rather glad he hadn't been super young when he lost his virginity. “I was 19.”

“You waited until college?”

If Mulder were honest, it was much less about waiting and much more about a lack of opportunity. But he said to Will, “Yes, I waited until college.”

“Did Mom?”

Mulder wondered if the summer before college counted. Well, it wasn’t still high school. “She did.”

When Will didn’t ask another question, Mulder continued, “The point is that porn can present a view of sex that isn’t realistic, just like a movie or TV show isn’t like real life. Everyone needs something different to,” Mulder made a vague hand gesture, “enjoy themselves, so you need to talk with your partner about what they like and try to please them as best you can.”

“Ok, Dad,” Will replied. “Get consent and porn isn't real. Are we done now?”

Mulder ticked through the list of things he was supposed to hit on. “Just about. Remember that you can come to me or your mom about anything. And I mean anything. For example, I’d rather help you get condoms than become a grandfather before we’re all ready for that.” 

Will made a face, but Mulder hoped his son was taking him seriously. He stood and clasped his son on the shoulder before heading for the door. Just as he was about to leave, he remembered, “Oh, wait. First, as you’re, you know, exploring all this, know that your mom and I don’t have the expectation that you’re straight. We will love and support you regardless of your orientation.”

“I know.” Will replied. “You guys have been saying this since I was like five.”

“Well, a lot of people our age were rejected by their families because of it, and we want you to know that will never happen to you.” 

“I know.”

“Good. And second,” Mulder said, as he turned back to the door, “learn how to use incognito mode.”

(Author's note: I don't know where this story came from or if this the best way to have this conversation, but it all felt real to me.)

[saiilorstars]

Ch. 22: Nearing the End

[Story Masterlist] // [Aitana’s Masterlist]

Fandom: Criminal Minds // Pairing: Spencer Reid x OFC

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag​​​​​ @arrthurpendragon​​​​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​​​ @stareyedplanet​​​​​ @averyhotchner​​​​​​ @foxesandmagic​​​​​​

If you’d like to be a part of Aitana’s taglist, please let me know!

"You really should stop making promises to them like that," Angel said as soon as Aitana finished her phone call with her mother.

She put her phone down on the kitchen counter and propped her elbows to rest her cheeks over her fists. "I can't help it. She asked if I wanted to stop by for dinner."

"Not me?" Angel flashed her a cheeky smile.

Aitana rolled her eyes at him. "This is a girl's night out. Least it's supposed to be if I can make it."

Angel hummed as he went looking through the cabinets for his usual mug. "That job of yours doesn't exactly let you make plans in advance. Why would you promise her you could make it on Sunday?"

"Because it's only a couple days away and maybe this time might be different?"

Angel paused as he took his mug out. He peered around the cabinet door to smirk at Aitana. "Se vale soñar."

Aitana frowned at him. "I can too dare to dream and I dream that this weekend, I will get to spend time with my mother!"

Of course only two minutes later, she got a call from Penelope with an odd case. When Aitana hung up, Angel already had his coffee prepared and was standing on other side of the counter with a stupid smug face.

"Not a word!" Aitana warned him as she got out of her stool.

Angel started laughing when she rushed out of the kitchen to get ready. Sometimes, she made it too easy for him. Aitana hurriedly put on the first thing she saw in the closet and was out the door in half an hour. What Penelope had found was a terrible case yet with some unusual details.

"I didn't interrupt your morning, did I?" Penelope said when Aitana strode into her office. By this point, Aitana wasn't surprised to find Penelope making herself at home in her office. She had her laptop set up on the desk with a couple of hard copy files beside her.

"Don't worry about it, two more minutes and I may have murdered Angel," Aitana said as she dropped her bag over the desk.

"Trouble?" Penelope quirked an eyebrow. She should probably keep her nose out of Aitana's love life but Morgan made it very hard to ignore the signs of their resident genius' little affections. It wasn't like she wished any trouble for Aitana in her relationship but if said relationship wasn't going well, then...all's fair in love and war, right? Does that apply even though it's not exactly love?

"Penelope?" Aitana unknowingly pulled the blonde out of her thoughts that were admittedly getting away from her.

"Huh?"

Aitana smiled lightly. "Are you alright there?"

"Me? Yeah! Course! But this case is not!" Penelope plopped down on her chair. "And I really think we should present it to the others already. I may have already called them in."

Aitana chuckled. "You are the best partner I could ask for."

Penelope beamed. "It's always so easy working with you." They shared another laugh. It was funny how they slowly fell into sync when it came to working together after starting out on a rough patch.

~ 0 ~

"Two DC homes torched, two families, on the same night, last night." Aitana brought up individual pictures on the screen of each of their victims. She preferred to leave the charred corpses on the hard copies for Penelope's sake.

"I'm surprised it still hasn't hit the news. It's already mid-day," Morgan remarked what the others thought as soon as they saw the file.

"Yeeah," Aitana held onto the remote a little tighter while her body leaned back. "It was the first thing Garcia noticed when she caught the case." Penelope hummed in agreement. "I know that I've only been here a couple months but don't these cases usually attract huge media?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Hotch confirmed.

"Okay, well, after careful searches we only found one online article."

"Yeah, it was written by this guy Jeff Hastings but other than him, no one's running with it," Penelope said. "All anyone's talking about is this storm that may or may not hit."

"How strange. They usually thrive on tragedy," said Rossi. They weren't sure whether to take the win or not.

"Yeah, and it gets weirder," Aitana regretted to say. "Ron and Lauren Cosenza and their 10-year-old son were found in the master bedroom of their home, each shot through the forehead. The gun belonged to the father."

"Murder-suicide?" Seaver presumed.

"Well, it looks like Metro PD's investigation is going that way, but it's still the first 48 hours and they want our help. Kerry and Frank Fagan, like the Cosenzas, were found in their master bedroom from a suspected gas leak."

"It had to be massive to cause that," Spencer said after taking a look at the pictures of the destroyed home. He looked up to Aitana with a genuine confusion. "How does the news miss a house explosion?" He didn't mean to imply that maybe they'd missed an article or news broadcast. It was simply strange that nobody batted an eye at the story.

Aitana shrugged her shoulders. "Beats me."

"Any connection between the families?" asked Seaver.

"Only one," Penelope answered. "A continent. Kerry Fagan was born in Germany, Ron Cosenza is from Italy."

"So 2 of the 5 victims are from Europe. How does that help?" Morgan said if only because he didn't quite see anything useful yet

Penelope shrugged. "It doesn't. I'm just stating the facts, and the facts happen to be…"

"Guys, I'm sorry I'm late!" Emily came rushing into the room.

"You ok?" Morgan didn't seem very surprised but then again, why would he? He noticed weeks back how strange Emily had been.

"Yeah, it's just one of those weeks, I guess," Emily waved it off and sat down, grabbing the copy of the case on the desk. "I'm sorry. What did I miss? Arsonist?"

"One appears to be murder-suicide, the other a freak accident," Seaver said.

"So why are we looking at it?"

"House fires are rare. Add to that a few Miles apart, within the same hour, kind of tips the scales of coincidence," Hotch explained. "If somebody did this, they're highly motivated and organized."

"And if he wants to strike again, he's got 72 hours before the storm shuts the city down," Penelope said.

Aitana turned the screen off behind them, prompting the end of the meeting. She headed out first to gather a few more hard copies for the evidence boards they would be constructing in a few. At least this case would be right at home. With a bit of luck, she might just make her plans with her mother on the weekend.

~0~

Each family had their own board to full up the space with. Only one board remained empty in the middle while they tried finding connections between the two families. Hopefully when Hotch and Morgan got back from the coronary and Emily and Rossi from the crime scenes, they would have more to work with.

"There is no history of any kind of psychological weirdness with either family," Penelope reported her findings from her seat. She'd made herself comfortable beside Spencer at the conference table. "They were healthy, happy, fit. Until last night."

"Any signs of financial stress?" Seaver asked her. Much like the others, she kept going back and forth between their two filled boards to spot any connection they may have missed.

"No. They were healthy on that front, too!"

"What's with the…?" Seaver made a gesture to Penelope's extra warm clothes as well as the fact she wasn't in her own office.

"Oh. The heat is out in my lair!"

"Still?" Aitana came around with a coffee cup in hand. Her office had become Penelope's second home during the early morning.

Penelope nodded then went back to her computer. "Not a single snowflake has fallen and yet the weather remains the top news story."

"That's really weird, has anything like this happened before?"

"Nope," Spencer was the one to answer, and quite certain of it. He had yet to look up from a pile of papers in front of him but even then, nobody would think he was wrong.

"The media is a giant piranha and that" — Aitana pointed to the boards — "is exactly the type of thing they would be all over." It was really bugging her and she wasn't sure whether or not she should be. The lack of media in this case could either help them work through the case quicker or help derail them. No eyes meant no witnesses, no caution amongst the neighborhoods.

"They're bound to get hip to it," Penelope said, sounding much more confident than Aitana was at the moment. "Once our presence is felt and we connect the cases, it'll be a ballroom blitz."

"You know, considering the time these fires occurred, the habitual patterns of both families were in direct conflict with where the bodies were found," Spencer said suddenly. For a moment, the others wondered if he was talking to them or himself. The question wasn't answered until he looked up at them. "Normally Lauren Cosenza would be downstairs helping her son with his homework, and Ron wouldn't even be home from work yet."

"What about the Fagans?" asked Seaver

"Their routines were less established. They traveled a lot. But they were expected at a dinner party last night."

"So if someone did this, what are the chances these victims are random?" Aitana asked the question she already knew the answer to. She was beginning to answer her other question about the lack of media. They definitely needed it.

~0~

By nightfall, both Aitana and Penelope were deeply confused that the media had stayed radio silent. In fact, they were thoroughly shocked when they noticed something about the only article Penelope had found earlier.

"It's gone!" Penelope exclaimed, startling the group when she and Aitana returned to the conference room.

"What is?" Morgan was immediately front and center with the blonde, thinking that something had been stolen from her possessions.

Aitana appeared less anxious than Penelope but Penelope just as perturbed. "The article written by Jeff Hastings was pulled."

"What?" Morgan's eyes flickered back to Penelope who nodded fast.

"The media blitz never came and the only article we had was pulled! I smell a conspiracy in the air!"

"Garcia," Hotch's tone was calm yet still a warning. Penelope sighed.

"It's very odd that this would happen," Aitana said, pursing her lips. "Worth an investigation at least. A separate one."

The subtle implication pulled Hotch's attention from the evidence board. "You want to look into it on your own?" Aitana hesitated for a second under his stare but she eventually found the courage to nod. "Are you sure?" He wanted her to think about it before she officially took the task. Up until now she had done most of her duties under their supervision. He was actually a little proud that she wanted to take something on her own, or at the very least take charge of it.

Aitana nodded again. "I was thinking maybe I can borrow Garcia to find his usual whereabouts?"

"Oh yeah!" The blonde exclaimed, only settling when she gained some odd looks from Morgan, Seaver and Rossi. "I mean...of course I can help."

Hotch gave them the 'go' sign. "Be careful," he warned them.

"Of course." Aitana made to leave when Spencer came in.

~ 0 ~

The night would be a long one for them and the rest of the team when murders started like a domino chain. Emily and Morgan got caught up in a pseudo street fight with some serious heavy weapons. They managed to hit one of the men, accidentally killing him in the process and identified a tattoo that had taken a bullet right in the middle. With that kind of injury, it was very difficult to make out what it used to be. The case kept getting more and more difficult. Because at the other end of the block, Hotch and Rossi were going over another murder. From what Penelope gathered, and their own reasoning, they went down the route of suspecting their unsubs were at least ex-military. It wasn't much to go off by but it was something nonetheless.

The next morning, Aitana readied herself to leave the BAU for her separate investigation. She left her office and wrapped her sweater closer around her. There was no storm yet but the air might as well freeze them.

"Here you are." She surprised Spencer when she planted a travel mug on his desk.

He was deep in a sketch of what was supposed to be the recreation of the tattoo Morgan and Emily found on one of their unsubs. "What is that?" He crinkled his nose at the faint scent of…? He actually couldn't tell what it was in the mug. There were too many scents mixed in.

Aitana smiled at his reaction. "Your voice has been cracking. Got a cold coming because of the weather?"

"Uuhm...maybe," Spencer shrugged. The weather had been more cold than what they were used to but he was pushing through. It was just a minor itch of the throat. "Nothing to worry about."

"I have you, Dr. Reid," Aitana slid the mug closer to him. "Whenever I get sick, my mom makes me drink this tea and it always gets me back on track within a couple days."

"That's very nice of you, Aitana, but I'm good. You shouldn't have."

"Well I already brought it over so you have to drink it," Aitana said ever so innocently, even holding her hands up to complete the look.

Spencer deadpanned her and all her antics. "What is it?"

"Well, I'm not going to lie, the ingredients are a little bit, uh...odd…" She reached over to take the mug but stopped midway. Spencer was very rigid when it came to his things. Her fingers touching the lid of the mug may not be what he wanted. "Uh, you can open it on your own." She pulled her arms back and behind her back in case she got a little excited and forgot her prudence.

Spencer appreciated she remembered his (weird) antics. He reached for the mug and gently pulled the lid off so as to not spill anything. Immediately he was assaulted with a stronger series of scents. He sniffed the air a couple times. "Cinnamon?" He checked Aitana's reaction and saw her nod. "What's the other…?"

"Onions," Aitana said with a scrunched face. She waited for Spencer to either go "blegh!" or merely ask the reason behind the ingredient. "I would've put a dash of lemon but I wasn't sure if it would make it better or worse for you."

"Well…" Spencer laughed slightly.

"It's cool if you don't want to drink, I was just trying to offer an option but I get the combination is weird!"

"No, no, it's fine, thank you," Spencer picked the mug up. "Raw onions are commonly used to fight colds. It gets the phlegms out."

Aitana watched him intently when he took a sip. She chewed on her bottom lip when his nose scrunched from the obvious tangy taste. "You don't have to drink it," she reiterated in case he needed one more push to tell her the truth.

"No, that...actually feels really good." Spencer took another sip and relished the heat going down his throat. Normally he wasn't too thrilled when things were blaring hot but this tea was different.

"You sure?"

"Mhm," Spencer nodded. He took a bigger sip and hummed. "Did you make this?"

"Yeah, I learned it after so many years of having to drink it. But really, if it doesn't taste good — which I know it doesn't — please don't drink it. You don't have to."

"I am going to, even though it's not really a cold," Spencer assured. "Though I guess after this, there won't be anything at all which is better, so thanks." He raised the mug in salute then took another drink.

Aitana couldn't help the beam on her face.

"Hey!" They heard Penelope's greeting as the blonde made a hasty way up to them. "You ready?" she asked Aitana.

"Mhm," the brunette nodded.

"Where are you two off to?" Spencer eyed them curiously.

"My dear Penelope found the author of that article that got pulled," Aitana explained.

"Jeff Hastings?" Spencer took another drink. The heat was really hitting that spot.

"That's the one! And we are on him!" Penelope said with a finger raised in the air. "I dare him to get away from us! C'mon!" She turned around and marched towards the doors.

Aitana lingered behind, her lips tugged into a bemused smile. "This should be interesting," was her parting comment.

Spencer wholeheartedly agreed. He would be curious to know how that went.

~ 0 ~

Aitana and Penelope had arrived at the coffee shop where Jeff Hastings tended to go each morning. They had to order ahead of him but it worked out better so they could study him while he waited for his drink to come by.

"He's so normal," Penelope made the remark so off-handedly that Aitana nearly choked on her own coffee. They sat together at a table by the wall.

"What were you expecting? Lois Lane?"

Penelope raised an eyebrow at her. "You think that was funny?"

Aitana dove for her cup again. "Oh, he's coming back," she nodded Penelope to see Jeff. He was returning to his table with his drink in hand. He had a book he was starting to read. "He's kind of cute."

Now it was Penelope nearly choking on her coffee. "What?"

Aitana shrugged her shoulders. "He's got a familiar vibe to him, you know? It's cute."

Penelope shook her head. "Oh, sprinkles, if I tell you who he reminds me of…" Well, Spencer might kill her. Or do whatever he thought was mean.

Aitana was none the wiser and continued to study Jeff. "He seems to be alone. And he's got a workbag. He's probably going in later today."

"To write an article and then pull it?"

Aitana smiled. "Maybe, the day is young. Let's go make some conversation!" She picked up her coffee and stood up.

"I don't know about this," Penelope mumbled after her. She wasn't all for talking to random people. The last time she talked to someone random at a coffee shop...he ended up shooting her. For that matter, she spontaneously decided to let Aitana take over completely.

The brunette wouldn't notice she was all alone until after she introduced herself. "Sorry," she chuckled nervously, "She must have gone to the restroom." She threw a look over her shoulder to Penelope. "That's a good book you're reading," she said to Jeff, taking up her own seat.

"Uh, yeah?" Jeff wasn't sure what to make of her yet.

"I'm sorry, I must be weirding you out," Aitana cleared her throat. "So how's about I just get to business. I'm with the FBI."

"Good for you," he said slowly, making her chuckle.

"Well, being from the FBI who's working a case that has to do with an article you wrote has me wondering...why it was pulled?" Aitana could pinpoint the moment Jeff's face went pale. Of course she was more confused when that pale expression morphed into anger.

"You should know!"

Aitana startled. "Uh, no, I really wouldn't. The FBI didn't tell you to pull it, did they?"

"No, no, no, I'm not saying Jack to you!" He started putting his book away, more like dumping it into his bag, and stood up.

"Well that's a shame because I really don't know what's going on," Aitana remained calm and cool. "Two families died in those fires. You were suspicious and you were right to be."

Jeff raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't look like an agent to me."

She smiled. "Thanks. And you don't seem like the type to run away from a good story. I read it. It was good. And definitely right in some parts."

Jeff slowly sunk back into his seat, eyes still trying to figure her out. She had a warm smile that didn't go with the image of an FBI agent. "Are you sure you're an FBI agent?"

"Liaison," she said, "Partly. And profiler. So right now I know that you're trying to figure me out. I needed to meet you because I don't understand why the article was pulled."

"There's no story."

"Yeeeah, but I kinda think there was." She quirked an eyebrow at him. "C'mon, don't leave me hanging here."

"It wasn't the one I wanted to tell," Jeff supplied and it could have easily been the truth if Aitana knew better than that.

"I think it was because you wrote well. And you know what, when whoever is telling you to pull it is no longer a threat, with the right source it could be front page." Jeff seemed to stiffen at her words, even more when she added, "It could be the next Watergate."

So she did know some things. And she was being careful not to drop it for anyone to hear. She cared enough.

"It could lead to a book," she said, eyes pointedly waiting for him to make a response. "Your book."

"The threat being to the shareholders," he finally helped her out a bit.

She cocked her head. "Shareholders that are affected detrimentally?"

"I think you mean financially," he corrected. He rose from his seat, much more calm than earlier.

She hummed. "Ah, money makes the world go 'round, right?"

"It might have made a couple rounds," he said, "See where it's been."

"Follow the money like a chase? Oh, that sounds like a very good ending," Aitana smiled and for the first time, Jeff smiled back at her.

~0~

Later on in the day, the one victim they had was what they would work with. Hotch tasked Aitana with the dispersal of the man's photograph. The man had died with the intentions of it being made to look like a heart attack. It was strange enough. While she did that, the others focused on the other important evidence piece they had.

"Reid, you got anything?" Hotch asked, the others soon gathering around Spencer's desk. He'd been working nonstop on the sketch all morning.

"The damage is pretty extensive, but luckily some of the tattoo remains." He was close to finishing it and he was confident that it was right. "Give me a few more seconds."

Penelope came around with her laptop, also confident with what she found. "I think I know who dug the hole!" She announced, planting her laptop on the side of Spencer's desk. "The journo told Aitana to follow the money, like straight up, so I did. It turns out "the gazette" is owned by a multinational global conglomerate... oil, new technologies, shipping, air and ground transportation, all of which employ the services of one company...CWS."

While everyone else looked puzzled with the name and even the picture Penelope had found on the internet, Hotch seemed less surprised with. "Clear water securities?"

Penelope startled. "You know them?"

"I've come across them. They're a private counterintelligence group out of Geneva."

Nobody noticed the way Emily paused where she stood.

"Well, Ron Cosenza, Byron Delaney, Kerry Fagan all worked for CWS," Penelope went on.

"How long ago?" Emily asked.

"Seven years ago."

Bang. Emily had to right herself so as to not breathe so heavily.

"Serrano!" Hotch suddenly yelled, startling the entire group. "Serrano!"

In a short minute, Aitana came running out of her office. "Yes!?"

"Did you get the picture dispersed?"

"N-no, not yet—"

"Good, don't."

"O-okay?" Aitana looked at the others, her expression asking them what was going on but she found them to be just as confused as she was.

It was that same confusion that allowed Emily to slip away from the group to make an important call. Of course Penelope would be the one to notice later. Meanwhile, Hotch started taking the rest of the team without giving much of a reason or explanation for anything. Only Rossi seemed to understand more but the rest were left in the dark until further notice.

~0~

Emily was forgetting how to breathe. Each hour that went by brought her closer to the past she was desperately trying to fight off. Already she had confirmation that the man she was supposed to be hunting down was hunting them down. Worst of all, he was bringing in her team just like he promised he would. They were all innocent and she was dragging them through the mud with her problems.

Coming out of the meeting in the scif, Enily couldn't get away fast enough but not without already having tasks to do. The name Ian Doyle had been assigned to Aitana to disperse his image everywhere in the media. She was full fledged drowning with different media reps calling her for more information.

Aitana came out of her office a tad too fast that she crashed into Emily. "Sorry!" With everything in her head, Emily didn't even register the crash until she was stumbling back. Aitana shook her head, her curls bouncing madly with her. "Sorry, Emily! I'm going back and forth trying to get this whole media thing under control!"

"S'okay," Emily mumbled, pressing her blouse down.

"Swear to God, I may never get this!"

Emily paused suddenly, her head flipping up to see Aitana looking uncertain between a few papers in her hands. "Don't do that," Emily ordered, startling Aitana.

"Huh? Do what?"

"That," Emily pointed.

Aitana mistook it as a point for her papers so she looked down at them to see what was wrong about them. "What? The papers—"

"No, you," Emily insisted. She had an urge to say things much like she already had with Penelope earlier. The words were bursting from her mouth at this point because, as much as she wanted to pretend that it wasn't going to happen, the ending was approaching.

"I'm...confused…" Aitana lowered her arms to her sides.

Emily thought she might as well do it. "You need to stop doubting yourself."

An insecure laugh slipped from Aitana's mouth, a clear intent at washing away exactly what Emily talking about. "I don't…"

"You do," Emily cocked her head to the side, "And I see it and know it because I was you a long time ago. I came to the BAU unknowingly replacing another agent. I overcompensated because I didn't feel like I was part of the team and it took me a very long time to get over it."

Aitana's mouth opened several times, no doubt to retort that this wasn't the case, and yet the ping in her heart told her not to. Why keep lying? "It's my fault," she whispered. "Nobody's done anything—"

"I know," Emily nodded. Of course she knew. Nobody did anything to make her feel out of place, not part of the team, but the feeling kept lingering there no matter how much she fought against it. "But you are doing a good job here, alright? I know it and so does everyone else. You're not replacing anyone and you don't have to prove to anyone that you deserve a spot here. You belong here, always have."

Aitana couldn't help the prickly feel of tears in her eyes. She laughed slightly, though this time it was a little less forced. "Always?"

"You clicked with us from the first day you worked with us in San Diego," Emily brought a hand to Aitana's arm, rubbing it comfortably. "You definitely clicked more with certain people too." Aitana's confusion lasted little as Emily went on. "You're part of this team, Aitana. I...enjoy working with you." Emily had to think twice before saying the words otherwise they would've come out wrong and very much telling of what was running through her head.

"Thank you," Aitana said, now feeling ridiculous she was almost in tears. Emily smiled softly at her before continuing on her way. Aitana stayed in her spot, smiling to herself when a new thought came to mind. Where had this conversation come up from?

~ 0 ~

After another examination of their last victim, Emily and Morgan were able to find a definitive piece of evidence that connected all of their victims. Penelope hooked up said evidence to the screen so that everyone else in the conference room could see it. A photograph of their victims together on the back of a truck stared back at them.

"That's Dreyer. Kerry Fagan, Ron Cosenza," Penelope stepped back slowly, remote still in her hand. "Delaney's not in it but, according to Morgan and Prentiss, it could be because he was their handler. But my million-dollar question is...does anyone know what language that is?" She zoomed in on a sign to the side of the picture. Nobody could understand, not even her.

"Those are villages in North Korea," Emily said suddenly, gaining Penelope's grin.

"I love you. Of course she does!"

Emily only briefly smiled. "There's a political prison near Haengyong-ni. Camp 22. Kwan-li-so. North Korea denies it exists."

"You think they took Doyle there?" asked Rossi. "That would explain why he's after them. Even his prison is off the grid."

"All we know is that he was never married, had multiple residences, and was arrested at his tuscan villa," Hotch said, startling Emily with the new information that they were definitely not supposed to know.

"There's paperwork to back that up?" she made the question casually. She felt her insides churn when he nodded.

"And a list of who was there that day. There may be photographs. Reid's looking into that now."

"Right. So those people need to be warned that he's on the warpath," Seaver said.

"They already have been," Aitana assured them. "But there's a whole different life this guy's led, one that isn't in any file."

Hotch agreed and switched gears towards Emily. "Prentiss, did you hear from your European associates?"

"I'm waiting for them to send me a document."

"We need it now."

"Okay," Emily got up from her chair, having no trouble getting out of the room as quickly as she could.

"He's locked in this hellhole for 7 years," Morgan said afterwards, "How did he get out?"

"Another million dollar question," Penelope pointed.

"Does it really matter?" Aitana challenged the pair. This man was as dangerous as they came. They shouldn't focus on how he escaped but instead on how to put him back in.

"As soon as the roadblocks are finished getting in place, we're conducting the search," Hotch said, eyes landing on Aitana who straightened in her spot. "Are you prepared to start making the calls? It'll be a lot connecting several agencies together."

It was hard not to think of what Emily had told her earlier. When she nodded her head, she did it much more confidently than she ever had. "I will go set that up," she declared, rising from her chair.

It would take her all of that night as well but she wouldn't be the only one working through. Emily and Morgan were called out on another murder that was more than likely connected to Doyle. The case was becoming a joint force now and their time was precious. By morning, the bullpen was flooded with agents and associates from other agencies, preparing for the meeting that was soon to commence.

"Hey, hey, hey," Penelope found Aitana standing by Seaver. Both women had been surveying the amount of people now taking spots in their bullpen. Penelope reached Aitana's arm, gently turning the agent away. "That journal is eating out of our hands! He knows your full name by heart now! He might as well love you!"

Aitana chuckled. "I wouldn't go that far. Guess he thought I was kidding about the story."

"We handed him a full-fledged manhunt!" Penelope exclaimed.

"I'd say it's more than that," Seaver remarked. "I've counted reps from 5 agencies."

"Oh, I love me and multi-agency task force, and on our turf!" Penelope grinned. "It gets my blood up. When are we going to get started?"

Aitana jerked a thumb towards Hotch's office. "Oh, they're drawing up the battle plan with the troops"

But shortly later, he and Rossi would emerge from the office. Everybody soon fell silent as Hotch started.

"It's not often that we know a subject's name, and in this case, knowing Ian Doyle's identity doesn't give us very much. He's known to a select few, and those who know him well either work beside him or they're on his list. 2 or 3 of his victims worked for CWS and were responsible for his transport to North Korea. There were 7 operatives on the mission altogether, and the remaining 5 have been warned. All the federal and international agents responsible for tracking him down are now on his list of targets. We'll find Doyle the way we find any other offender... By studying his behavior. We'll dissect his every move since he regained his freedom. When he escaped from north Korea, he killed a man and he used his vehicle to cross the border into Russia…"

Everything seemed to fade from Emily's ears and itch wasn't exactly being quiet either. This was of the utmost importance and yet, she couldn't focus. There was no point. She had the means to end things and keep everyone out of harm's way. It wasn't what she had hoped for-because for a while she did have hope-but it was what she had in hand and she would take it. Her eyes raked over the bullpen, scoping out her teammates to take one last look at them. If all went well, they would soon be able to go home and rest. She didn't know where she would end up, but that didn't matter. It never did.

[thesakuragarnet]

It's Dangerous To Go Alone

Summary: The first chapter/oneshot of my Civilian Social Worker Toya Todoroki X Pro Hero Hawks AU.

Tags: pre-relationship DabiHawks, Civilian Dabi, light angst, mugging, prescription medication, swearing, implied/reference Child Ab*se

Word Count: 1,596 words

AO3 link

SLAM!

The abrupt sound of a laptop being slapped shut breaks the peace of the Musutafu Child Safety Services Agency, scaring the night shift janitor who thought everyone had gone home. The man slowly steps toward the noise, peeking around the wall to take a look. Twenty-four-year-old Toya Todoroki sits in the back corner of the common space, his face in his hands as he deeply inhales. He drags them down his face, stopping just below his eyes as he stares into the darkness, grinding his teeth. If it weren’t for the medication suppressing his Quirk, he definitely would’ve burst into flames already. 

Toya had been working on this case longer than he wanted to admit, but he was determined. He never backed down; he never allowed a kid to be given up on…not after the same thing happened to him and his family. There had to be something that could be the nail in the coffin, but everything kept slipping through his fingers. The report deadline for proper evidence and testimony was approaching fast, and his “gut feeling” wouldn’t be good enough. It had happened before; he tried his best to make the case for the kid but was accused of hearsay and speculation. 

Toya blinks out of his thoughts, realizing first that he’s in the darkness and second he’s being watched. As usual, time had gotten away from him. It was pitch dark in the streets of Musutafu, and he didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so the bus or the train weren’t options; Toya would be walking home. Toya’s anger and frustration boil over; he bitterly shoves his laptop in his bag before roughly zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder. Without a word, he stomps down the hallway, past the janitor, and out the door, letting it slam shut behind him. 

…

“Fucking bastard. Come on. There’s gotta be something I missed,” Toya grumbles under his breath as he thumbs through the pictures of the household on his phone. It was a suburban apartment owned by a single father with a seven-year-old daughter and a Chihuahua. The dad called himself a “businessman”, working in sports management. Toya was given the case after their neighbors called the police, claiming they heard screams and loud thuds. In the end, things turned up empty… almost . He was convinced that this guy was just good at covering it all up. 

Thunk.

Toya stops short, holding his breath as he freezes in the alleyway. He had cut through the back side of town because it was faster; he was used to walking through the side streets in broad daylight, but this was the first time he’d been through there after dark. He was too absorbed in his phone to notice the shady figure tailing him, and, now, he can feel a gun barrel pressed up against the small of his back. 

“The laptop. Give it to me,” The voice demands. Toya blinks. 

“You gonna kill me if I don’t?” He huffs, his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to get out of this. The laptop has all of his information on the case, and, begrudgingly, he hasn’t backed it up onto a separate hard drive yet. He can’t afford to lose it. He won’t let that little girl stay in the house with her abusive father.

“You tryin’ to be funny?” The harsh voice snaps, and Toya feels the barrel press harder into his back. 

“I have 20 bucks on me. Do you want that?” Toya snorts.

“I said the laptop . Wise guy,” The criminal growls. 

Ssssssss.

Toya’s eyes widen, and, without moving his head, he looks at the time on his lit phone. It’s been an hour past when he would normally take his medication. The morning dose was wearing off. He can feel the fire prickling beneath his skin as his emotions start to run rampant, and he starts to panic. 

“Listen. Back off. Please. You don’t wanna do this,” Toya says steadily, trying his best to quell his Quirk. 

“I’m the one with the gun here, pal. You’re not in any place to threaten anyone.”

KerCHIK!

The sound of the criminal cocking the gun echoes through the alleyway, and Toya’s heart rate spikes. 

“Please. Can I just get something out of my bag? I need it,” He asks, starting to reach for the pocket where he keeps his pills. 

“You’ve been stalling for too long. Time’s up, bud-”

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

Suddenly, the pressure of the barrel disappears, and Toya whirls around to see the guy pinned to the wall by a myriad of red feathers. Toya raises his eyebrow as he squints up at the struggling man in the moonlight.  

“What the fu-”

“Heyyo!” A chipper voice suddenly calls from the air, and none other than Pro Hero Hawks swoops down from the sky, landing briskly beside the eldest Todoroki son. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t be walking through this part of town alone at this time of night,” The Pro chuckles before slapping Toya on the back. Toya blankly stares at him, looking the man up and down. He has an enormous pair of elegant red wings and is dressed in quite possibly the most tacky Pro Hero suit that Toya has ever seen. 

“Guys, take this villain to the police station. I’m gonna make sure this citizen gets home safe,” Hawks calls down the alleyway, where Toya spots a pair of sidekicks running as fast as they can to catch up. One of them gives a half-hearted thumbs up as he catches his breath. 

“Uh, I can get home fine on my own,” Toya scoffs, straightening up his black leather jacket. 

“Aw, come on! It’s the least I could do! Besides, I- Hey! Wait a second, I know you! You’re Enji’s kid! Toya, right?” Hawks suddenly smiles, and Toya’s eye twitches at the mention of his father. He feels the flames flickering below the surface, and immediately remembers his original predicament. 

“ SHIT !” He hisses, spastically digging through his bag until his fingers curl around the familiar orange bottle. Hawks watches with curiosity as Toya wrenches open the bottle and hastily pops a tablet in his mouth before swallowing it. Almost instantly, he feels the flames slowly shrink back before the sensation completely vanishes. When he catches Hawks staring, he feels unusually self-conscious. 

“It’s prescription. Don’t worry,” He mutters bitterly under the hero’s stare, and Hawks puts up his hands. 

“No, no. I wasn’t trying to-I mean-I wasn’t. I-” Hawks stutters, and Toya huffs before walking forward to his original route. 

“Wait!” Hawks calls, falling into stride beside him. 

“I told you, man. I don’t need someone to walk me home,” Toya grumbles, but Hawks just ignores him, putting his hands behind his head. 

“You know, some people would kill to have the Number Two Hero, Hawks, to escort them safely,” He chuckles, almost in a teasingly flirting manner. Toya just rolls his eyes in irritation. 

“I’m not some people. You’re just another product of a failed system,” He scoffs, making Hawks flinch slightly. They turn the corner together in the labyrinth of alleys. 

“Now, you hardly know me. That’s not a very fair assumption,” Hawks mutters, and Toya shoves his hands into his pockets. 

“The whole reason I went this way was so I didn’t have to interact with anyone,” He complains under his breath, and Hawks chooses to remain silent. 

“Thank you. By the way. For stopping that guy. I’m…not sure what would’ve happened otherwise,” Toya sighs as they reach a fork in the maze. 

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all! I’m glad I was flying by!” Hawks beams before adding, “But…you seem like you’re saying that about the other guy.”

Toya’s eyes narrow, and he bites the inside of his cheek, staring at the ground as he walks a bit faster.

“Quirk dampeners. For a good reason. That’s all you need to know,” Toya says flatly, avoiding eye contact. Hawks frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to pry, I was just…curious,” The Pro says apologetically, but Toya doesn’t extend the same grace. 

“Yeah, well. Maybe you should keep your mouth shut,” He spits as they reach the mouth of the alley that leads to the sidewalk. 

“I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help. Today hasn’t been a good day,” Toya sighs, his harsh expression softening. 

“Well, we’re out in the light now. If you want, I can let you go on by yourself. As long as you promise not to use the alleyways,” Hawks shrugs, smiling half-heartedly. Now that they’re in the light, Toya can actually get a good look at him. He’s got a nightmarish tangle of scraggly blonde hair that looks like it’s been hair-sprayed to death, but…his eyes and his smile are the kindest that Toya’s ever seen.

‘It’d be nice to vent all this shit to somebody.’ 

…

“Wow, so you’re basically a hero without a Pro license. That’s so awesome, man!” Hawks exclaims excitedly as they reach the door to Toya’s apartment complex. 

“It’s the only other thing I could imagine myself doing…but…this case is so damn frustrating,” Toya mutters. 

“You’ll catch ‘em. I know you will,” Hawks encourages him, flashing a thumbs-up. Toya rubs the back of his neck. 

“You don’t really know me at all, Hawks.”

“I don’t have to! I can tell! Anyway, have a good night! I better not catch you using those alleyways anymore,” He winks before flying off into the night, leaving Toya Todoroki alone with his thoughts.

[magicshopaholic]

The Fifth (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the world famous golden maknae, capable of anything, afraid of nothing. He's also the worst date you've ever been on - and now he wants a second one.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Teasing, banter, slowburn fluff (is that a thing?), idiots to lovers

Word count: 7.9 K

Warnings: Insinuations of sexual harassment (not from Jungkook)

Part 1 of 2 (Part 2)

Listen to: "whistle for the choir" by the fratellis

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

You barely waited for the car to stop before you began grabbing your stuff - your bag, your phone, and what remained of your dignity. You threw the door open and had one leg out, ready to get this hideous night over with, when you decided to give him one last look. One last chance to look even the slightest bit ashamed.

No such luck.

He sat in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead as his hand clutched the steering wheel, as though ready to zoom away the moment you closed the door. You stared at the baseball cap on his head - the same cap he’d worn throughout the date, even inside the damn restaurant. Filled with the sudden urge to take it off and smack him with it, you opted to scoff instead.

“Good night, I guess,” you muttered, unable to keep the disdain out of your voice. If he noticed it, he didn’t show it.

“Right.” His fingers visibly tightened around the steering wheel.

You waited for him to say something else but when he didn’t, you were done. You were out of patience, finally, after three hours of possibly the worst night of your life. Without another word, you stepped out of the car and slammed the door of his fancy Hyundai shut, walking straight to the entrance of your building. You turned one absolute last time to look at him; even through the window of the car, this late at night, you could make out his sharp jawline, aquiline nose, and the scowl under that stupid baseball cap.

He was gorgeous. He was sensational, he was adored, he was worshipped. But above all, you decided, Jeon Jungkook was the absolute worst date ever.

“Is the coffee machine still not fixed?” You slam the side of it and groan when it simply gurgles. “How are we supposed to perform at our best if we don’t even have caffeine in the morning?”

Seulgi clicks her tongue from behind you, typing something on her laptop, a steaming mug of green tea in her other hand. “There’s literally a coffee cart in the lobby.”

“I know, I saw that,” you mutter, walking over and sinking in your seat next to her. “But the crowd in front of it was insane. Is it some new popular brand I don’t know about?”

“Doubt it,” she says, sliding her cup over to you which you accept gratefully. “I think they put it up for BTS. It’s their first official day back, right?”

You freeze for a moment, mid-sip, before going back to work. Seulgi seems to remember it then, too.

“Oh, do you think Jungkook will seek you out?” she wonders, eyebrow raised under her glasses. “I mean… to apologise or whatever?”

You snort. “Not likely. He barely had anything to say to me that night; I doubt he’s going to start today.”

“You never know. You both work at Hybe - it’s just a matter of time before you bump into each other again.”

You give her a look. “I’ve been working at Hybe for four years and he still asked me out at the liquor store across the street. And after that disaster of a date…” You shudder. “I’m not holding my breath.”

“Yeah, it’s probably for the best,” agrees Seulgi, who, by virtue of being in the very same liquor store but in the adjoining aisle, was the only person who knew that you’d been on a date with Jungkook. It also meant that you’d vented to her and only her about it - and thankfully, she’d been just as disgusted when you’d told her about the baseball cap.

“I have to say, though,” she continues, getting up to pick up a sheaf of prints from the other end of the table, “Jungkook is not the one I would’ve pegged to be that aloof on a date. Taehyung, maybe - and only maybe. He could’ve been having a bad day - he was still serving…”

You tune her out partly, having heard all this before. You’ve considered all this too, but so far, Jungkook has not only taken you out on the worst date of your life, he’s also denied you your morning coffee. You have no patience, especially when you begin reliving that horrendous night six months ago.

It’s true, he’d been back on a break from his military service. The whole country knew about it, which was why you weren’t only surprised that he was in a liquor store across the street from Hybe, but that out of all the things he could’ve been doing on his few days back, he chose to go out with you - and bomb it. He’d picked you up in a stale mood, barely greeting you before he zoomed away towards the restaurant whose name he’d texted you the previous night. When you’d stepped out of the car, your jaw had almost dropped at his attire: faded jeans, a hoodie and trainers that he’d probably worn to the gym that morning. To top it off, he’d thrown on that ridiculous baseball cap just before entering.

You’d followed him in a daze. When you’d found out the name of the restaurant, you’d searched it online and carefully curated your outfit, keeping in mind how refined it was. Not only had Jungkook made no such effort, he’d chosen a table next to the kitchen and taken his seat first, leaving you to sit right next to the kitchen door. He’d barely made any conversation, looking at his lap, the menu, his phone any time you tried to initiate dialogue. Finally, by the time your food had arrived, you’d lost all interest and instead chosen to at least make the best of the free meal you were getting.

Less than five bites in, the door behind you had opened with a bang and knocked your chair - and you - into the table, making you choke, when you’d felt a trickle of something ice cold down your chest. You’d turned in horror to see dark red wine make its way down your shoulder and chest, permanently staining the dress you’d spent a quarter of last month’s salary on. While Jungkook had initially made no effort to help you out, perhaps it was the sight of your top getting more and more translucent by the second that compelled him to sullenly offer you his hoodie - but, you reasoned, only because he was wearing a jacket over it.

The rest of the night had gone just as abysmally, until you’d opted to decline any dessert from the waiter, ignoring Jungkook’s affronted expression. You just wanted to get home.

It’s a few more days before you consciously think of him again. Seulgi drags you into the conference room where the entire marketing team has just concluded a meeting, leaving behind them an empty room of coffee cups and stray laptop chargers.

“It’s a gold stud,” she mutters again, shuffling over to where she was standing to hopefully spot her missing earring. Tugging on her ear, she suddenly gets down on her knees, peering under the table.

“I’m going to be screwed in this meeting,” you mutter worriedly, setting a file to download before placing your laptop on the table and helping Seulgi search. “Check in the cushion of the chair in front of you.”

“Believe me, they won’t even make it to your part of the presentation,” says Seulgi absently, and you can’t help but think she’s right. “They always go on and on about print for some reason and I just can’t understand - holy shit, it’s here!” She pops up, holding the tiny stud in her hand like a talisman. “You were right!”

“That’s great,” you say hurriedly, scrambling to your feet. “Now can we -”

The glass door opens with a soft squeak, interrupting you.

“- looking at different concepts just because you’ve all come back - oh. Excuse me.” A man in loose pants, a bomber jacket (in April?) and a fedora on his head strides in before stopping to a halt. Taking one look at him, you know he’s talent, probably a producer or a sound technician which means you have no business talking to him unless it’s strictly about work. The moment he spots you and Seulgi he stops talking, and both of you bow immediately.

“We’ll just be out of your way,” says Seulgi quickly, and you nod, picking up your laptop when you notice the person he’s with.

“Wait, I - I know you,” says Jungkook, eyes wide with confusion and wonder.

All thoughts of not talking to artists go straight out the window. You frown, taking a moment to process that he’s talking to you. “Excuse me?”

Next to you, Seulgi’s eyes widen. The person with Jungkook only raises his eyebrows, but you aren’t really looking at him anyway. Jungkook, having already shown more interest in you in the last five seconds than he had during your entire date, seems to be realising something.

“Lia!” he exclaims suddenly, making you raise your eyebrows. “Your - your name is Lia… right?” He frowns, looking incredibly doubtful, as though afraid of answering a question wrong in class. “We met in the - in, um…”

You can’t find words - any words. Sure, the date had been terrible. Maybe you’d expected too much from men; maybe you’d even come to expect that Jeon Jungkook was a diva in real life, insulted at the idea of dating the common folk. What you didn’t expect, though, even for a moment, was that he wouldn’t even remember you.

You consider watching him struggle for a bit but it gets too painful, your humiliation eventually taking over. “Uh, actually, we’ve - we’ve never met,” you interrupt him, shutting your laptop in your hands, the snapping sound making him jump. “You must be thinking of someone else. Excuse me.” You sidestep the men and exit the room with Seulgi, deliberately not looking back.

“He remembered your name,” points out Seulgi eventually, sounding uneasy. “And he did… no, I can’t. God, what a jerk.”

What a jerk indeed. You intend to use the slowly bubbling anger to help you approach this meeting a bit more confidently and you mentally talk yourself up as you simultaneously curse Jungkook. To your absolute horror, he catches up to you when you’re on your way, running up next to you in the middle of a corridor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, taking a deliberate step away from him when you notice someone walk by and frown at you two.

“So we have met,” he says, sounding far too victorious for someone who’s evidently run up two flights of stairs to catch up with you.

“Good job. Now, if you’ll excuse me -” You try to walk around him but he keeps up with you easily.

“Look, wait, I’m sorry - I didn’t forget, I just needed a moment to place you, I - will you stop for one second?” Jungkook slides abruptly to stand in front of you.

You bump into him before jerking back. “Do you have a problem?” you ask in a low voice. Behind him, you see people filing into the room where your meeting is about to take place.

“No, I just want to apologise for - well, for -”

But you cut him off again when you spot your boss making her way into the room. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about but I really have to go -”

“Okay, but can we talk after you’ve -”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Goodbye, Jungkook.” Nudging him out of the way, you half-jog away from him, laptop in hand. You make it inside just in time, greeting people on the way as you approach the front of the room, plugging in your laptop to the projector. As the screen loads, you notice Jungkook outside across the corridor, still standing in the spot you left him.

---

After your meeting, which ends up going reasonably okay but extends by over an hour, you stop by the cafeteria for a protein bar before going back down to your desk. You’re about to pack up for the day when you notice a purple post-it on your bulletin board, pasted over the picture of you and your brother at his eighteenth birthday party. You sigh, having a feeling what it is.

Make six copies of the LA proposal and leave it at our desks before you go? Thanks.

Ever since your boss made it clear that you can expect a promotion decision by June this year, barring any complications (her words), it’s almost like she expects you to willingly perform chores for extra credit. You suppose you should be grateful there’s a thanks at all at the end, so you set the files to photocopy and tiredly make your way over to the copy room, protein bar in one hand. You take a large bite and push the door open, only to see someone already in there.

“Hi.” Jungkook, seated on the table next to the copy machine, smiles timidly.

You choke - literally. Clutching the doorknob, you cough until the piece of protein bar in your throat dislodges itself, while Jungkook hops off the table in a hurry and leaps over to pat your back.

“How -” you wheeze, sure your face is beet red by now, “- do you manage to do this to me every time?”

“Sorry,” he mutters with an awkward smile, stepping back once you start straightening up. “Thank God you came, though. I was starting to think I’d have to wait here all night.”

You stare. “How did you know I’d come here? Did you leave that post-it on my desk?” you ask suddenly.

“No. But I saw your boss leave it and I asked to confirm if it was your desk and she said yes…” He smiles again, looking like a woodland creature from a Pixar film. “She’s really nice.”

“Sure. How, uh… how did you know what department I’m in? I’m pretty sure that never came up.”

“Um…” He rubs the back of his neck, looking slightly uneasy now. “I asked at reception and the lady told me… it’s not private or anything, right? I mean, she wouldn’t have told me if it was. Right? She was really nice, too, so…”

You try not to roll your eyes; of course everyone’s going to be nice to Jeon Jungkook. “So you decided to corner me in the copy room?” You look up at him for confirmation. He’s a good five or six inches taller than you but you hold your ground.

“Kind of,” he admits. “I wanted to apologise. I swear I didn’t forget you… Lia. I just - it took me a moment to place you from - from our - from October.” He pauses, screwing his eyes shut before opening them again. “Which brings me to the other thing I need to apologise for.”

This should be good. You fold your arms across your chest, choosing to let Jungkook ramble on. He’s remarkably different than he was that night. He’s far better dressed, to begin with, in a white t-shirt and a smart black jacket, jeans and combat boots. Most importantly, there’s no baseball cap. He’s also said more words to you in the last two minutes than he had in three hours during your date and from the embarrassed look on his face, he knows it too.

“When we, um -” He breaks off, clearing his throat. “When we went out, I was - well, firstly I was on a break from service,” he reminds you, shrugging, “but I also wasn’t… I mean, I wasn’t in a great place. And, uh, I think I took that out on you. And our date. And I’m sorry.”

The strange thing is, you can tell he means it. He genuinely is sorry, but the actual apology itself is so half-arsed that you simply stare at him in disbelief.

“That’s it?”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide - very wide. It takes you off guard for a moment. “Um… I, uh -” He stutters, clearly not knowing where you’re going with this. He looks so pitiful trying to decode your comment that you roll your eyes, grudgingly deciding to help him out.

“Do you remember what you told me? On our date?” you prompt.

His frown deepens. “Um… about - about what?”

“Exactly,” you say forcefully. “You didn’t say anything! You wouldn’t talk to me, you wouldn’t look at me - and you wore a fucking baseball cap inside a restaurant,” you snap, unable to let that detail go.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, as though just remembering the extent of how horrible the date was. “Yes. Yes, I - I do remember that. Although -” He breaks off again, apparently deciding not to say anything.

You raise your eyebrows. “Although what?”

“It’s not important.”

“Oh, just say it.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking extremely uncomfortable. “You were… a bit overdressed. I mean, you looked great,” he adds quickly. “But… it wasn’t that fancy a restaurant.”

You’re stumped for a moment, mostly because you’ve had this thought more times than you’d care to admit. “Well, it wasn’t KFC either,” you retort, albeit a little weakly.

Jungkook bites his lip. “Anyway… I am really sorry. You were actually being very nice and I was…” He rubs the back of his neck again, “... not cool,” he finishes.

You observe him, frowning. He’s refusing to meet your eyes, leading you to believe he’s truly apologetic. But there’s still something there to unearth.

“Why did you ask me out?” You ask the question that’s been on your mind since the moment you got into his car six months ago. “I mean, you clearly didn’t want to be there. Why bother at all?”

“Um… my friend told me -”

“Oh, please don’t tell me it was a dare,” you interrupt in a low voice, scathing but with a fear starting to bloom that you haven’t felt since high school.

“What? No, no… it wasn’t a dare. The date was real,” he adds, rubbing the back of his neck again. It’s his nervous tic; you’re surprised you don’t hate it. “But he did convince me and...” He sighs. “It’s really stupid.”

“Oh, I believe you. But I still would like to know why you asked me out on a date where you played nothing apart from One Direction’s greatest hits in the car.”

He gasps. “It included their solo works, too!”

You roll your eyes. “My mistake. Are you going to tell me or not?”

“Fine. I used to have a crush on this girl and my friend thought that going out with someone else would help me get over her.” He rolls his eyes. “I was really pissed off because I didn’t want his help but he insisted and I was just determined to prove him wrong. And… I took it out on you. And I’m really, really sorry.”

“Oh.” The momentary panic in your chest fades into something else and you’re not sure you’re meant to like it. It’s suddenly harder to meet his gaze but you force yourself to do so. “So, your friend just… he just told you to walk up to a random girl and ask her out? What if I was a sasaeng or something?”

“No, we knew you weren’t,” he answers tiredly, shaking his head. “Or he did, at least. He said he recognised you from Hybe.”

You frown. You have virtually nothing to do with the artists; your job is in digital marketing and sponsorships, unlike Seulgi who’s actually part of creative production. The closest you come to interacting with the talent at all is at launch events where they’re centre stage and you’re shunted to the corner with the rest of the suits. You wonder if this friend is another member of his band before deciding it’s far too much of a coincidence. You change tacks.

“Right. How do you know her? This girl?”

He looks a bit taken aback, like he hadn’t expected you to cross-question him about this. “Um, she’s a friend.”

“Did you ever ask her out?”

“No, she has a boyfriend. Why are we talking about this?”

It’s a good question. You remind yourself that this is none of your business, even you can’t help but feel slightly insulted. “I don’t know. But, you know… I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” You move to walk past him.

Jungkook wrinkles his nose. “Oh, no, I got over her ages ago. That’s not what I meant…” He huffs, apparently frustrated at not being able to express what he does mean. You feel him turn to watch you as you make your way over the copier and punch in a couple of commands, noticing him jump slightly when the machine comes to life.

“Look, I’d really like to make it up to you,” he ventures again, bravely. “Do you think… can I take you out on another date?”

You don’t even bother turning around. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Um, no, I just thought -”

“Listen, Jungkook, I appreciate the sentiment and all but, really, I think we both learnt our lesson when it comes to dating. Each other, at least,” you clarify, waving your hand. You turn back to the copier, staring at the paper slowly disappearing into the machine until he comes to stand next to you.

“Look, I know you had a terrible time last time - and it was my fault,” he adds quickly, “but I’m not a bad date! I swear. I just - I feel really bad about how it all ended and how it’s not fair to you and -” He breaks off, taking a deep breath. “Please let me make it up to you. You can - you can choose the restaurant.”

“What if I don’t want to go to a restaurant?”

“We can go somewhere else, too,” he suggests, but you can hear his voice perk up.

“I want to go to the bird observatory in Bukhansan National Park.”

“I - okay.”

“But only at night, when the birds are asleep.”

“Um…” You can hear the frown in his voice. “Why?”

“Because then I can wake them up.” You turn to face him with a straight face. “They start making a ton of noise - it’s kind of like an animated version of metal music.”

Jungkook swallows, clearly trying to mask the confusion. “Well… okay. We can - we can try that.”

“But if they don’t wake up, you have to be absolutely quiet. Oh, and we’re not allowed to take food or drink inside,” you add.

“That - that sounds… so fun.”

You roll your eyes. “Right. Okay.”

“Okay?” His eyebrows snap up and his eyes go wide, face shining. You almost feel bad.

“Okay… my copies are done,” you clarify, reaching over and pulling out the warm paper from the copier tray. “I’m sorry, dude, but it’s just not a good idea.” You give him a mildly apologetic glance before moving to exit the room, stopping momentarily at the door. Turning around, you frown at him. “Were you really ready to take me to a bird observatory?”

He’s made no move to follow you out. “I’ll let you pick the music, too,” he offers.

For the first time in Jungkook’s presence, you smile, you humour albeit directed partly at him. “Boy bands aren’t really my thing.”

—

A couple of weeks later, Seulgi asks you for a favour. Kind of.

“Summer.” She drops a thick spiral bound notebook onto your table where it narrowly misses your laptop. The cover is glossy, like a magazine page, with the Hybe logo and multiple papers, post-its and tags sticking out of the side. Your first thought is a Burn Book.

“What?”

“Summer,” she huffs, falling into the chair beside you. “It’s summer, which means summer launch party, which means I need an entire team on board to oversee all the arrangements including the campaign launch, the goodies, social media, fan management, the pop-up store -” She breaks off, groaning loudly. One or two people look over and you duck your head behind your laptop screen.

“Yes, but just like summer itself, doesn’t the launch party happen every year?” you ask from the corner of your mouth, knowing the answer. It does; you know this because not only is it obvious, it’s also the one night you get one hundred percent off because all your commitments need to be done and delivered well in advance, leaving you free while the creative and event management folks scurry around to set up the party.

“Well, yes,” she answers, “but Taeyeon put in his papers yesterday, which means that for a whole twelve hours, nobody thought to let me know that we’d be one member short in guest management.” She sighs again, loudly.

Without looking at her, you continue typing out your email. “Why do I feel like you’re building up to a favour?”

“Oh, thank you for offering and yes, it’d be great to have you on board, thanks a lot, Lia.” She says the whole thing in one breath and sinks back into the chair.

You would be annoyed at the presumption but it’s hardly the first time you’ve depended on each other like this. Plus, if your manager is aware of you picking up extra slack, it’ll only help your case for a promotion. Moreover, Seulgi genuinely looks like she’s bursting at the seams from a bandwidth point of view. “Happy to help, I guess. What do you need?”

A lot, as it turns out. The launch party is only a week away, which means vendors and suppliers and consultants are constantly on speed dial. Thankfully, you have directly replaced Taeyeon in guest management which means your actual work - mingling to make sure high profile guests find their places and have what they need - is limited until the actual night of the party.

On the day of the party, you arrive in the afternoon, your dress and make-up in a separate bag at Seulgi’s insistence. You find her talking to a young girl with her hair in a bun, holding a bouquet of orchids in either hand.

“- theme of the night to be drilled into their heads by the end of the - oh, hi.” She turns to you, looking somewhat demented. “We were just talking flowers.”

“Got it. You needed me to set something up?”

“Yes, it’s right over here.” She provides an instruction to the florist before sweeping away, motioning for you to follow her. She reaches a guy you vaguely recognise from the celebrity endorsements team and holds out a hand, into which he deposits a sheet of paper. “Guest list,” she declares with a flourish. “You, Jieun and Minho -” she points to the same guy with her thumb - “will take care of one group each. Don’t worry, you have the easiest one.” Ignoring the dirty look Minho throws her, she steers you away.

“You know, Minho can have the easiest one if he -”

“No, Hybe doesn’t want a woman looking after the celebrities so he has to. Don’t ask me why, I don’t want to get into it,” she adds immediately, still scanning the paper. “Jieun is taking care of sponsors, Minho as you know is taking care of celebrities, which means you get…” She flips the sheet of paper to hand it to you dramatically, “... press.”

“Huh.” It’s not too bad. However, since the press is also the first to arrive, you head inside the hotel soon after to get ready. You’re straightening your hair in the bathroom when you get a message from Seulgi. Listen, you know I’m your friend and totally in your corner when it comes to stuff but if Jungkook tries to talk to you, please don’t engage. You know how pissed off the managers get when the artists are seen with employees - I just can’t afford that shit tonight.

You sigh, suddenly feeling sorry for her. We haven’t spoken since he randomly apologised that day. There’s like two hundred people here. You’ve got nothing to worry about.

You place your phone down after replying, feeling a sense of foreboding in the pit of your stomach. You wish you hadn’t said that. Of course, it’s true; you and Jungkook haven’t had a jot of interaction since the day he cornered you in the copy room. You’ve passed each other in the corridors a couple of times but it’s always been so busy and he's always surrounded by people, so you aren’t surprised. In fact, you have a feeling you embarrassed him a bit that day. While it felt mildly good at the moment, you found yourself if you’d maybe been a bit harsh when turning him down.

But you can’t worry about that now. Packing up your stuff, you head outside to drop your bags in your beat-up car before going back inside, trying not to trip over your heels.

A couple of hours later, the party is in full swing. The CEO is giving a speech on stage while everyone listens. Waiters glide around with glasses of champagne while the room generally sparkles. Standing near the sound station with Jieun and Minho, where you’re far away to not be considered guests but also close enough to help in case someone needs it, you stealthily pull down the hem of your dress.

“Just try not to sit at all,” mutters Jieun, sounding sullen. “It makes your dress ride up and then you have a creep commenting on it and his posse laughing, all because he was decided worthy of being a CEO to one of our sponsors.” She scoffs. “Arsehole.”

You frown. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’d love one. But I’m a lightweight and the buffet doesn’t open for hours.”

She’s right. Besides, as staff, you can’t quite accept champagne the way the guests do. No, if you want to drink, you need to sneak a quick one in the lounge or, like Minho, roam around with a flask attached to your hip under your jacket.

You bite your lip as the CEO cracks a joke and everyone laughs politely. You wish Jieun hadn’t brought up food. You haven’t had a chance to eat ever since you got here and although there are hors d'oeuvres being offered to guests, you know you aren’t one of them.

Once the speech is over, there’s a series of further introductions until a host comes on, a minor television personality who calls out names of top management, a couple of top sponsors and Hybe’s artists. You tune out; as Seulgi rightly said, the small group of journalists are the most low maintenance guests in attendance, treating you more like a host and less like the glorified maid Jieun seems to be perceived as.

It’s another half an hour before you come to a decision. Secure in the assumption that the journalists are going to be occupied as long as there’s a speech going on, you mutter an excuse to Jieun and Minho and slip out, determined to find food before your stomach starts growling in public. You only need to make it to the bathroom so that you can retrieve the half-eaten protein bar you have in your clutch, when you look up and see you’re not alone.

The mirror on the wall shows only one other person in the corridor. Hardly daring to believe it, you whip around to see, in the wildest coincidence that you still feel you should have seen coming, Jeon Jungkook, looking dapper in a suit and slicked back hair, eyes wide and surprised.

“Lia!”

Shit. You want to run but you’re frozen on the spot - and you honestly have nowhere to go. Plus, when he starts walking towards you with a smile, you find you don’t quite have the heart to run away from him.

“Jungkook,” you greet him in a low voice, moving to side-step him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I’m… working. What are you doing here?”

He raises his eyebrows. “I’m… also working. Technically.”

“No, I mean -” You shake your head. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in the hall with the rest of the band? Oh, my God, does Minho know you’ve left your seat? Does Seulgi?”

Jungkook frowns. “I don’t know who any of these people - wait, is Minho the guy who showed us to our seats?” When you nod, a bit frantically, he nods in understanding. “He told me where to find the bathroom. And I’m not sure but I think he offered me a drink.”

“It’s probably cheap whiskey, so please tell me you turned him down,” you say uneasily.

He grins, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m good at keeping my alcohol down,” he informs you, “but I’m not in the mood for whiskey tonight.” There’s a pause. “Can I buy you a drink, though? I mean, no offense, but you look like you could use it.” He grins again, as though to let you know it’s a joke.

You make a sound between a chuckle and a choke. “It’s an open bar. Or is this your sneaky way of asking me out again?”

“I mean, I’m not calling it a date but if you want to...”

“You should really get back to your seat before someone notices.”

But it’s at this moment that Jungkook seems to have noticed something. His eyes fall to what’s below your face and he frowns. “Hang on, is this…” He looks up at you again, as though trying to solve a complicated math problem. “Is this the same dress you wore on our -”

“I - what?” you sputter, immediately pulling the hem down again. “How - how do you even remember that?”

He gives you a look. “I wasn’t completely out of it, you know? I told you you looked good. But, seriously, how fancy did you think our date was? Or -” He ignores your burning cheeks, “how casual is this party? Why am I being forced to wear Louis Vuitton?” he demands, tugging at his tie.

“Okay, don’t ruin your outfit,” you implore tightly, reaching up to swat his hand away from his collar, “and please get back to your seat.”

For a moment, it looks like he’s going to argue but then he nods reluctantly, like a child being told what to do. You wonder if he’s used to this. You give him a gentle nudge. “Go back to your seat, Jungkook,” you repeat, hoping he listens, Seulgi’s pleading text from a few hours ago floating through your mind. You take your leave and just as you round the corner, you turn subtly to see Jungkook walking away in the other direction, looking tall and lithe as ever, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

As it turns out, your relief doesn’t last very long at all. When the chief guest of the event comes up on stage to make a speech and begins with “In 1964, when two teenagers had only dreams of changing the world…”, you hear Jieun groan next to you. You understand her; the heels and the dress and the tantalizingly close alcohol and the lack of food are turning this into a bit of a nightmare. Plus, given that most guests are in jackets, someone has turned up the AC and you can feel goosebumps erupt on your arm.

You train your eyes to the journalists’ table. It’s only six people, and they seem reasonably well taken care of. Jieun’s already been called over by more than one of her guests to be asked nonsense questions, each time having to walk precariously in her high heels and artfully bend such that her dress doesn’t ride up. Minho’s guests aren’t quite as entitled, which is probably why you don’t think you’re imagining the faint scent of whiskey from him.

Just as you think it, a fifty-something man turns and locks eyes with Jieun, raising a hand slightly. “There’s a gun in my parents’ safe in their Gangnam apartment,” she mutters from the corner of her mouth. “If I go over and this guy asks me to come closer, I want you to shoot me with it.”

“I’d rather shoot him.”

“Works either way.” Plastering on a fake yet very pretty smile, she makes her way over. Your need to find food now transcends your own hunger; you feel so bad for Jieun that you’re willing to slip out again, even if it means leaving your own guests unattended a little longer - especially when they’re nowhere near as annoying as hers.

“Hey, Minho.” You tap him on the shoulder. “Will you text me if my guests need anything?”

“Oh, sure, ‘cause it’s all about the guests.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You slip out from the door behind the sound station, continuing to pull the hem of your dress now. It’s a normal black cocktail dress, nothing fancy. Overdressed, my arse.

You head to the lounge; it’s where normal guests go to dine. Since it isn’t dinner time yet, you’re hoping you can sneak in a couple of appetizers in a napkin. You enter the stairs, hoping to draw less attention to yourself when somehow, in a sea of coincidences, the one that finds you is in the form of Jeon Jungkook yet again, this time entering the same flight of stairs from the bottom.

“Shit,” is all he says, like he’s expecting to be scolded.

To be fair, you don’t disappoint. “What will it take for you stay in your seat, Jeon?”

There’s a momentary pause before he grins. “I could tell you but you already look pretty pissed off.”

“Seriously, dude, what the hell are you doing? Do you know there are people who can get in trouble if they lose track of you?”

He swallows, eyes narrowing slightly. “Fun as that sounds, I’m looking for food. I’m starving,” he confesses, looking a bit embarrassed.

You stare at him before sighing. “Finally, something we have in common,” you mutter. “But you know you’re a guest, right? The food being passed around in there is for you,” you inform him, trying not to sound too accusing.

“Yeah, I know.” He shifts a bit uncomfortably. “We’re not allowed to - I mean, we’re not encouraged to eat out there. Most of us put on weight in the military and we need to lose it before our comeback in a couple of months.” He sticks his tongue into the inside of his cheek again. “But I’m too fucking hungry to care right now.”

You frown, running your eyes up and down his figure, noting how perfectly fine he looks. Incredibly fine, in fact; the suit does him wonders, making his figure look tall and fit as he stands at the bottom of the stairs. Finally, you start walking down, motioning for him to join you when you pass him. “Come on, then,” you say, business-like. “Help me find the lounge.”

When you do find it, Jungkook throws the door open and begins walking straight for the buffet before you grab his arm and yank him back.

“Ow, what the -”

“You cannot be seen sneaking food from somewhere else while the event is going on,” you state firmly. “It’ll be a disaster. Stay in here and I’ll get it.”

“Get the quiche!” he whispers loudly as you walk away, ignoring him. You skim the buffet as quickly as you can, loading up a plate with two of everything and four mini quiches before scurrying back into the stairwell.

“Don’t judge me,” is all Jungkook says before reaching for the plate and placing it on a stair, loosening his tie and taking off his fancy jacket which, if you’re not mistaken, probably costs about four months’ rent. Adequately prepared, he picks up a quiche and, before you can process it, places the entire thing in his mouth and moans, sinking backwards.

You watch him in mild interest, still standing, as he slowly chews and swallows, eyes closed the entire time. When he’s finally done, he opens his eyes and gives you a lazy smile. “That was good. Thank you.”

Biting your lip, you realise you’re actually smiling. “I can tell. And I’m not judging you,” you add, taking a seat on the opposite side of the plate and pressing your thighs together.

Jungkook points at the piece of fried chicken in your hand. “I know why I’m starving. Why are you?”

“I had to fit into this dress,” you confess, “and it’s pretty skintight, so I’ve eaten nothing since breakfast.” You expect him to give you a disapproving look or make a statement about how that’s not healthy, you know. But he only frowns slightly before nodding once. You wonder if he relates.

“Don’t worry,” you say after a moment. “I never judge a good appetite. And it might be the only thing I found out about you on our date,” you remind him as you pop a fried shrimp into your mouth.

He shakes his head, reaching for a shrimp as well. “When are you going to forgive me for that?”

You eat in silence for a moment. “I already have,” you tell him, realising it’s true. “Look, it wasn’t a great night, and I was pretty pissed off the last time we spoke, mostly because you didn’t remember me for a moment there. But you were going through something, too, and… you apologised. And I accept it. There’s really not much else to it.”

“Huh.” Jungkook chews thoughtfully. “Well. Thank you, Lia.” For a few seconds, neither of you speak. “I really would like to take you out again, though,” he says softly.

You sigh inwardly. “That’s not necessary, Jungkook. Besides, I work for Hybe. I can’t be dating the talent. I’d get fired.”

He looks up, frowning. “I work for Hybe, too.”

You scoff. “Believe me, the way I work for Hybe and you work for Hybe are completely different. I can actually lose my job without breaking a million hearts and losing the company half their revenue.”

He processes this. “Then why did you say yes the first time?”

You shrug, your cheeks heating up a bit. “I was intrigued. Thought it might be worth the risk.” You look up, suddenly realising how he might interpret that but the moment to correct yourself has passed.

If Jungkook picks up on it, he doesn't say anything. "What was the worst part about the date for you?" he asks after a few seconds.

You chuckle, almost choking. "What? Why would you ask that?"

He shrugs, but there's a smile lingering on his face. "People usually ask about the best part. In this case, I feel like I should probably ask the opposite. Don't worry, you won't hurt my feelings."

You don't quite believe him. He's cute and charming - and the biceps visible through his thin white shirt are more than welcome - but he also seems… young. It's strangely endearing.

"Um…" You dust your hands to get rid of the fried chicken batter. "Actually, the worst part had nothing to do with you. It was when the waiter accidentally spilled that red wine all over me?" You tug on the edge of your dress. "This outfit you were commenting on? It's been through a lot. Washing, scrubbing, dry cleaning…" You shake your head dramatically.

"Oh, man. The dress really made it through. It looks great." There's another pause where you see his ears redden. Then -

"Wait, do you have my hoodie? Lia, I've been looking for it for months!"

You freeze mid-bite, suddenly remembering that you have Jeon Jungkook's hoodie stuffed in the bottom of your laundry hamper. "Oh… that's right, I do. Well, I'll just wash it and dry clean it and, you know. Send it to your apartment."

He bites his lip. "I - I can't give you my address. I mean, you're nice but… I don't really know you that well," he adds apologetically.

"Fair enough. I can give it to your manager. Very official."

He raises an eyebrow. "You don't want to go out with me because I'm a colleague but telling my manager we went out is no problem?"

"Okay, fine. What if I place it in a secret location and give you a code to -"

"Jesus Christ," he exhales, laughing despite himself. "There's a much easier way for you to return it… but I don't think I should bring that up right now."

"No, you shouldn't," you agree, giving him a warning look. “I bet you don’t even remember which hoodie it is.”

“It’s a brown one.”

“Too vague. What brand is it?”

“I think Fila…” He frowns as he chews. “But you know what? You can keep it if you want.”

“I don’t want,” you say forcefully. “I will return it. Once we figure out an appropriate method, of course.”

“Sure, if you insist. Although -”

“Alright, you know what? I’ll make you deal,” you interrupt him when you see where this is headed. “If you can tell me five things about me that you remember from our date, I’ll consider a second one.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really?” He looks more skeptical than surprised. “You’ll consider it?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “Five things. If and when you remember them, I’ll genuinely consider another date. Not things I’ve reminded you about after, but things I actually told you or you noticed yourself.”

He nods slowly. “Interesting. Alright, challenge accepted.”

“Sure? You might lose.”

“Oh, I don’t lose.”

You chuckle in slight disbelief. “Some might call that overconfidence.”

He shrugs. “I call it self-confidence.”

“Whatever you say,” you murmur, nudging the last of the quiche towards him. "Go on, you can have it," you tell him when he offers it to you. "You seemed to really like it."

The tips of his ears redden again and he silently picks it up, shooting you a grateful look, when you remember something. "Shit, I was supposed to take food for Jieun,” you mutter, standing up and dusting yourself off. Jungkook follows suit, picking up his jacket.

“Why? And - who’s Jieun?”

“She’s a colleague,” you answer, gathering your phone and clutch, “and she’s having a horrible night. Her guests are a pain and honestly? She deserves some of that quiche.”

“It was some good quiche,” he agrees, straightening his jacket. Both of you sneak out together and while he shuffles to the corner to deposit the plate, you return to the buffet to steal a mini quiche in a stack of napkins before both of you hurry back to the hall.

“Now, please, please, just stay in your seat?” you ask him as you both near the hall.

“What?” Jungkook gives you a mock-affronted look. “Can you honestly tell me you didn’t have a decent time sharing a plate of stolen snacks with me?”

You raise your eyebrows thoughtfully. “It was a better date than the last one,” you allow, grinning when he laughs. It’s a lovely laugh, you have to admit. “Now for the love of God, before Seulgi or anyone else sees you talking to me, go back to your seat.”

“Why can’t anyone see -”

“You ask a lot of questions, Jeon,” you inform him. “And -” You sigh and look around in the empty hallway to make sure there’s no one around before swooping up to him, pulling out his hand and placing your quiche in it. “Hold this. Your collar is all messed up…” You reach up and fix it, taking care to yank on his tie a bit when he grins at you. “Now, go.”

“What if we go in together? Just to shock people? Imagine what -”

“Absolutely not,” you interrupt him, giving him a solid push as he laughs again.

“Christ, you need to loosen up.”

“Watch it, kid. I’m three years older than you,” you remind him.

For the first time since you’ve met him, Jungkook smirks. It suddenly occurs to you how close he’s standing. “Yes, but I’m five inches taller than you… noona.”

You can feel your cheeks heat up as you hold his gaze. You weren’t sure he was even capable of eliciting such a reaction from you. Taking a deep breath, you tilt your head slightly.

“Jungkook.”

“Yes, Lia?”

“Get the fuck inside.” You ignore how he guffaws, throwing his head back as you push him towards the door with both hands; he’s built like a goddamn wall. “Go in there and don’t let me see you roaming around again,” you warn him when you can’t get any closer to the door without being seen, feeling rather like a teacher. As you go around to enter through the back door, you turn back one last time to see Jungkook about to go in the main entrance, still looking in your direction. When your eyes meet, he holds up five fingers and winks at you, grinning when you roll your eyes.

It’s a beautiful smile. And you hate it.

---

Part 2 will be up shortly. Thank you for reading my very first fic on this site and let me know what you think!

[lavishedinjimin]

Hickeys 101 -> dilf!jjk

— synopsis: After Jungkook catches you messing around with another boy, he was determined to teach you a lesson you'll only learn from a father... well, step-father.

↳ pairing: dilf jungkook x f.reader

↳ genre: smut/angst

↳ rating: 18+

↳ word count: 8.6k

↳ warnings: step-dad jungkook, AGE GAP, all characters are in legal age, D/S, daddy kink, condescension, degradation, they’re both toxic and mean, mind manipulation, Jungkook puts OC in subspace, face fucking, spitting, usage of a belt, unprotected sex (ya’ll know the drill already!), little aftercare

A/N: this fic is not suitable for all audiences. If you are easily offended and are sensitive to the warnings stated above, this might not be for you. reminder that the events in this story are purely made up and fictional.

Living with no one else other than your profoundly distant stepdad during lockdown – where you can’t escape, where you can’t go anywhere – is much harder than this zoom class you’re attending. 

“I'm so exhausted,” you mutter beneath your breath, rolling your eyes to the back of your head for your brain hurts from your Econ professor’s infuriating voice. 

Most of the time you are shuffling endlessly from how uncomfortable the wooden chair in this dining area is. With your laptop placed in front of you, the blue light surely ruining your eyes, you tirelessly listen to the lecture as much as your brain could wield. 

But your attention span isn't as great as most people.

Completely losing your focus on the class after two minutes, you turn your attention to your stepdad working his way to the kitchen.

“Can you put a goddamn shirt on?” you huff, a tinge of irritation in your voice.

He passes by you with a swift glance. 

“How are you doing?” Jungkook asks, utterly ignoring your complaint. 

“Since when did you care?” You place your chin on top of your palm, stopping your urges to not look at his exposed torso. His sleeve of tattoos was undeniably eye-catching, but you were too petty to go a have a normal conversation with him. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, was used to your sharp tongue. He knew you didn’t like him ever since he started to date your mom. But now that he was technically your parent, he has all the right to correct you and put you in your place. 

“You know I don’t like that tone, missy.” Jungkook stretches out his words, sounding stern. But you just sarcastically laugh him off. 

As your stepdad was making some food in the kitchen, the class grew longer and more monotonous than ever. You were never the type to pay attention in class, and neither did it help that the school decided to move to online learning. Now you’re truly failing school. 

“Jung—dad,” you sigh, realizing that his exposed back can almost be seen on your front camera’s screen, “can you scoot back a little? They can see you on-cam.” 

“Nope.” 

Jungkook chuckles at the way you grunt as he continues to make his avocado toast. 

“Oh come on—” Jungkook teasingly shows the rest of his behind to the camera, not caring at all that your professor and classmates can see. “Give them a little show.” 

“No!” immediately, you close your camera before swiftly turning your head to his direction, “Can you just stop? Okay? I’m trying to pay attention and you’re not helping!” You yell, banging your fist on the wooden table. 

“I’m so tired, dad. Can you just go away?!” 

He replies with his back still facing you, “Maybe if you asked a little nicer than that, little girl.” 

With a complete shock to the words he used, you found yourself blushing in red while your eyes slowly expand. Your body's reaction from that single sentence was intoxicating. Your class was now forgotten and your professor's voice became white noise. 

“W-What did you just call me?” You didn’t expect your tone to be as soft as it seemed. 

Jungkook finally flips around to face you. He scans you, taking a good look at you as he crosses his arms together. 

You couldn't dismiss that the way he looked at you made you feel something. Something that you’ve never experienced before. 

“I called you little girl. That’s what you are, right?” he sneers, “A little girl who thinks she can talk to her father so impolitely.” 

It was like a cat got your tongue. You flutter your eyes, trying to think of what to reply. 

Jungkook clicks his tongue, “Tsk. See, you're rubbish in talking, Y/n. Once I start to put you in your place, you can no longer put on that bratty act on me.” He suddenly starts to walk over to you, putting you in a frenzy. You sit up straight, pursing your lips as you can't seem to breathe normally. 

You cannot believe what was happening. Your mind starts to wander off from reality, trying to figure out what he is trying to tell you. Why did his voice change the way it did? As he walks closer, you can feel the warmth of his body enveloping yours. It was a situation that you wanted to run away from, but at the same time, you craved. 

With your back to him, he places his hands to rest on the table in front of you. He traps you in your place, not letting you escape. Your breath hitch unexpectedly as he leans his face closer to yours. 

“Jungkook… go away f-from me.” A trail of curses echoes in your mind, for you wanted to sound intimidating and not like a little kid. 

Jungkook chuckles and clicks his tongue, “Then push me away, little girl.” 

Everything in your system freezes. As if you just had been tasered, you feel electricity shooting throughout your body. Jungkook adores your reaction. He’s older than you, he knows more than you; and he knows just how to make a woman as you melt beneath his palms. 

“Silent now, aren’t we?” he teases with a velvety voice, inching his face even closer to the curve of your neck. Strands of his hair tickle your neck as hot breath blows against your skin, causing shivers down your spine. 

He hears a little whimper from you, making the grin on his face growing wider. “Be. A. Good. Girl. For. Me,” he says through an award-winning smirk.  

But – of course – you will not let yourself lose. 

“No.” 

“No?” he stares at you, baffled. 

“Never in a million years,” a bitter grin appears on your face.  

Jungkook leans back and away from you. He was a hundred percent sure that he’s got you under his spell, but your reply got his mouth dry. 

“Yeah?” So, he’s resulting in Plan B. 

A hands-on experience. 

Slowly and delicately, he lifts his tattooed-covered hand and wraps it around your neck. “Mhmm, there we go,” he coos after hearing another sudden whimper, “Remember who you're talking to, little girl, got it?” 

Your palms start to get sweaty as you try your hardest not to moan. Jungkook grips your jugular tighter, making you hitch a breath. You can hear him grunt under his breath, knowing for a fact that this was turning him on as well. 

“Who are you talking to, huh?” he starts to get aggressive as he presses his lips right against the shell of your ear. “Tell me, little girl. Remind yourself who’s in charge. C’mon, can’t speak now, baby?” 

Baby. 

Your eyes automatically close at that, feeling butterflies in your stomach. “Daddy.” 

“Mhm, good girl—”

“Daddy,” you whine, “Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, y-you’re in control.” 

‘Finally’, Jungkook thinks to himself with a large cocky grin on his face. He finally got you to submit. 

“Someone’s not as tough as they seem… I think I need to punish you for being such a fucking brat. What do you say?” 

The way he said those words right against your ear instantly made your panties wet. It was humiliating that you got turned on by your stepdad, but at the same time, it was hot. 

“Little girl… tsk, I need you to answer with your words and not with a desperate whimper.” 

He releases the grip he has on your throat and instead, elevates his hand so that his fingers can rub against your scalp. A tingling sensation runs through your backbone as he massages your scalp, feeling so overwhelmingly good that made you lean back against his hand, yearning for more. 

“Punish me,” you say in an almost audible whisper. “Do what you want, I don’t care. Please, please, please…” 

Jungkook takes a good look at you; your cheeks flushed, eyelids closed and your mouth slightly parted. It looks like you were enjoying this a lot – too much to be exact. 

The feeling was something else, something foreign that you honestly craved for such a long time. You and Jungkook had were never close, and you’ve never thought of him as a real father figure. After such a long time of not having a man to run the family, you didn’t know how to act around one. 

Within a second of realization that you were loving this too much, he removes his hand from you and walks away without saying anything else. You feel like you just got heartbroken.  

“W-What… why did you?” you stutter through a long exhale. Your eyes begged for him to come back, damn it – you were ready for him! 

As Jungkook walks away from the kitchen with his bare, muscular back facing you, he says a final time, “Take your studies seriously, Y/n. I don’t want you failing any subject.” 

You feel your shoulders slump down and your mouth purses into a straight line. You just got edged by your stepdad. 

Staying silent was, you thought, the right thing to do at the moment. You insatiably did not trust your voice, and there was nothing to say to him without embarrassing yourself. 

You glance at the clock on the wall just beside the refrigerator. As your classes were done for the day, and you have the rest of the afternoon all to yourself. Despite all of the unfinished homework that you currently have piled in your calendar, you still choose to watch a movie on Netflix and eat a tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. 

And, of course, all this just to distract yourself from the bizarre shit that happened between you and your step-dad, and to divert your attention on something else other than how sexy he is. 

“Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you’re going this late?” Your dad stops you from stepping outside the door, grabbing you by the arm. You close your eyes for a brief moment, inhaling some air to let your senses calm down. The door was already opened, and all you had to do was to get out a little faster, and he wouldn’t have caught you. 

Perhaps trying to sneak out of the house was harder than you thought. 

Jungkook spins you around and makes you look at his dark eyes despite the dim lights of the entryway. He wears black checkered pajama pants and a white tank top, hair all messy as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. 

“It’s ten o’clock, and you’re supposed to be in bed,” he warns you with a strict tone. 

Snatching your arm away from him, you reply with gritted teeth, “I’m going out with a friend.” 

“Friend?” he scoffs, “I wasn’t born last night, Y/n. Where is he?” 

“He?” You slowly back away, taking tiny little steps closer to the door, “What do you mean ‘he’? I’m not going out with any guy, dad.” 

Jungkook rests his hips on one leg and eyes you up and down. Based on what you were wearing and the makeup that you have on, you looked like you’re about to give some boy the time of his life. 

“I’m not going to do anything I’d regret, I promise,” you whisper as quiet as the night sky behind you. “I’ll be good, daddy.” 

That was all it took for Jungkook to stop his tracks. You knew what you just did to him. The way how we reacted, how he froze immediately at his place, was the same reaction you had earlier this day when he did all those dirty things to you. Now he was in your shoes. 

As Jungkook looked like a dear in headlights, that was the time where you rushed off into the middle of the streets where Yeonjun’s car is hesitantly parked. 

“Quick, quick, quick!” you half-whispered, half-shouted as you closed the passenger’s door. Yeonjun laughs loudly while setting the gear up, preparing the car for a long, speedy ride. 

You look back and see Jungkook standing outside the porch, watching in awe as the car drives away from him. There was nothing funnier than seeing his stunned expression, for he couldn't do anything about your mischief anymore. 

“Is he angry?” Yeonjun asks, still giggling in his seat. 

“Yeah, he didn’t want me to leave,” You swing the seatbelt across your torso, securing it in the buckle. 

Yeonjun passes you a drink he bought for you from McDonald’s in which you gladly receive with thanks. “What’s this?” you ask before taking a sip. 

“Iced coffee. We’re out here for a long, long night, Y/n. See, I have one for myself!” he exclaims as he points to his drink sitting on the cupholder.

Yeonjun pulls down the windows so that you two can get a feel of the cold, fresh air of the starry night. Strands of hair would so often get caught in between your lips, distracting you from the relaxing scenario. 

Lifting your elbow to rest on the window frame, you ask him, “Are you sure this drive-in cinema is open this late at night?” 

“Of course, they’re open 24/7.” Yeonjun takes a quick look at you before returning his focus on the road. He smirks slightly, “We’re gonna have so much fun, Y/n. You won’t regret it.” 

You’ve already entered high-school when Jungkook met you. His first impressions of you were bashful and conservative, only showing your true nature around your friends. He thought you were such a warmhearted kid. He was only dating your mother at the time. 

But you’ve never really felt that he was a part of the family. His aura was never the nurturing ‘dad’ type, but rather, the ‘cool uncle’. He was never accustomed to kids, he’s the youngest of his siblings, so it was astounding that he’d ever married someone with a hormonal teen. 

Thus, as you’ve grown older, he’s slowly seeing your real side. Inch by inch, you're letting him see your colors and how you behave. A snappy and confident girl you are. You always have an opinion on things and you despise it when somebody gets in your way. 

That’s how your mother raised you. She taught you how to stand up for yourself and how to make yourself known, even though you sometimes overstep people’s boundaries.

Your mom was out of town for a trip with her office friends. She just landed a new job at the local government unit, and she was invited to their annual orientation. Which, if you were in her shoes, wouldn’t go to. But thankfully without her strict guidance, you can do whatever you want. 

Just say the magic words to your stepdad, and he’ll be putty in your hands. 

Consequently, Jungkook won't admit that he doesn’t like your attitude you put on him. He cares for you, he does. But if there’s ever a situation that you cross his limits, he wouldn’t hesitate to punish you and make it known that in the end, he’s older and you need to obey him.

Scared was a downright understatement. No matter how much you try to be brave and face whatever your stepdad might do to you as a penalty for ‘misbehaving’, you couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat. 

It was two in the morning, and your eyes are bloodshot red from almost having no sleep at all, besides the little nap you and Yeonjun took after watching a series of old movies in the drive-in cinema. You were wearing his sweater that he gave to you to keep you warm. 

“Thank you for tonight, Yeonjun,” you lean into the window frame, resting your arms on it. The yellow-haired boy smiles at you, his eyes wandering around your face as if memorizing every pattern of your features. He takes a final look at your bruised, swollen lips and hickey-covered neck before orienting his torso close to you. His face was an inch away from yours before he kisses you goodbye. 

“Try not to get caught,” he whispers against your lips with a cheeky grin. 

“You said that before, and I got caught,” you shrug while tilting your head to the side, “Say something else.” 

Yeonjun scrunches his nose. He uses his right hand to pinch your cheek endearingly, “Alright, then. How about… good luck with your stepdad.” 

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you release an exasperated sigh while closing your eyes. The two of you result in laughter, before giving him his goodbye.

Hurriedly, you rush around the house until you arrive at your bedroom window. Thanking your past self for slightly lifting the glass pane open beforehand, it was easy for you to sneak in without any faults.

The room was dim only because of the dawn lights outside. “Ah, finally,” you shut the window, hearing the loud ‘thud’ in contrast to the quiet atmosphere around you. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, hm?” 

‘Oh. My. God.’ 

It feels like you were in a horror movie. Jungkook’s cold voice sent shivers all over your body, running down your spine, arms, and legs. Frozen in your place, you gulp the ball that formed in your throat. 

Jungkook was sitting comfortably in your bed, one leg above another. “You know, little girl, I didn’t know how comfy this bed is. I might sleep in here with you sometimes.” 

“What?” you abruptly turn to look at him. He had a despicable smirk, knowing what he said has gotten on your nerves. “You will not sleep with me.” 

“Why not?” he doesn’t lose eye contact with you as he stands up, “You’re my baby girl.” 

Your breathing turned heavy as he slowly pushes you back into a concrete wall, not providing you any room to run away. “I-I’m…I’m what?” 

His eyes inspect your body up and down. You were praying to someone above that he wouldn’t see your hickeys, but it was all too late, and he knows you too much. 

Jungkook prods his tongue in his cheek once his menacing eyes stay on your neck. He looks straight into your eyes, before directing them back to those hickeys. 

“What is this—” your breathing snags from how rapid he was to press his body against you, wrapping his right hand around your jaw. He forcefully tilts your head to gain more access to your neck. Jungkook analyzes the deep red and purple marks on your skin, feeling oh-so disappointed in you. You turn squeamish from how tight he holds you, hearing how rugged the way his breath became, deep inhales and aggressive exhales. “What a fucking slut you are.” 

You feel your blood rushing out from your face, turning pale in a mere second of him saying that word to you. 

With a gruff, guttural voice, Jungkook doesn’t let you explain for he swiftly turns you around, pushing your frontside onto the cold wall. 

He holds the back of your neck and “I stayed up all fucking night waiting for you to come back home. Despite how fucking irritating and bratty you are, no matter how much you hate me, I care for you, Y/n. I fucking care for you, and I promised your mother that I’ll look after you.” 

You whimper when he tightens his grip once again, but you didn’t think about pushing away. 

“But here you are, not even cooperating with daddy.” 

“You’re not—”

Jungkook suddenly gives your clothed ass cheek a hard, loud spank. Your engrossed gasp captivated the room, and it sure did something to him. Jungkook, although he knows that you can’t see him, hides his growing smirk by biting his lower lip. He gives you a second spank, and a third spank, making your legs quiver and knees buckle from the pain. 

“P-Please stop…” you whine, your hands trying to reach behind you to grab his arms. 

“Stop?” he raises an eyebrow, “Wanna stop, little girl? You don’t like it when daddy spanks your ass?” 

However, you don’t answer. You don’t know what you want. The situation turned you on, and you know you’ll love the way your ass will burn afterward. Why stop now when you can enjoy it? 

Jungkook sees your mind was racing with thoughts, and he takes this as a perfect opportunity to drag you along with him to the bed. He sits on the edge of the mattress and swings you over his knee. 

“Stop!” you yell loudly this time, trying to pry away, but he was holding onto you tightly. 

“Shut up,” Jungkook growls, his voice immediately changes into a much deeper, hoarser tone. He, once again, grabs your jaw and forces you to tilt your head up, making you look directly into his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, little girl. You do nothing but run your mouth all over this goddamn house.” 

Jungkook was angry. The pads of his fingertips dig deeper into the skin of your jaw and lower cheeks, causing your lips to form a pout. 

He clicks his tongue, “Y/n, Y/n, Y/n. If you think that I’m going to let you go so easily, I’m afraid that you’re wrong, dear. I’ve finally gotten you between my teeth!” he exclaims sarcastically, although the sour tone of his voice makes you cringe. 

“You think you’re the shit, huh? Wanting attention so bad that you sneak out at midnight to fuck a disgusting pig. Am I right, Y/n?” 

“How fucking—” you shake and try to wiggle yourself out of his grip, offended by the words he said. You wanted to punch him yet cry at the same time. “How fucking dare you!” Facing him with tears slowly welling up in your eyes, “I-I do not— Yeonjun’s not… ugh!” You dig your nails into your palm from the raging frustration that was filling your mind and body. You kick your legs up and down, but Jungkook was not having it. He isn’t letting you go any time soon because he constricts your wrists together behind your back, tighter. 

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook smirks menacingly, “Relax, little girl, relax. You’re safe now in daddy’s arms. Perhaps that Yeonjun boy has gotten in your head a little too much, hm? Don’t worry, daddy will fix your attitude.” 

Without hesitating at all, Jungkook pulls your skirt down, revealing your lace panties all to his eyes. His warm hand rubs your soft flesh, squeezing it here and there. He knows that you like it. He knows that you’re only keeping this little act up to seem tough. But he sees the way your eyes dilate whenever he says a word that triggers you, that triggers you in a way that’ll make you surrender to him. 

Take the kitchen scenario, for example. With one word, with a specific act, you were melting for him. He knows that you absolutely can’t get enough of him, and he loves to play with your mind. 

He was completely aware that it wasn’t Yeonjun or anything else that makes you act like this; acting like a little monster. It was all because of him; he’s the one responsible. 

And he’s the one who will fix you.  

“Come on, baby,” Jungkook’s tone turns softer, more delicate. He hits your ass once, twice, before cooing you with shushes. 

You slowly get hazy, the spiteful and bratty part of your brain switches off. A shiver runs throughout your system when he wraps his hand around your neck. Flashes of the kitchen scenario fill your mind; how submissive you turned for him so swiftly. Your consciousness knows that you’re doing it for a second time. 

“Where’s my good baby girl, hm? Where’s that little girl that I love so, so fucking much?” He says through gritted teeth at the last sentence, spanking your butt again. 

His thumb rubs soothing repetitive circles on your skin, disregarding how firm he was choking you. You close your eyes, sniffing a little, somehow feeling tranquility in his grasp. 

You release a pain-filled mewl when he purposefully presses his thumb against the giant reddish-purple hickey on your neck. Jungkook’s cock hardens beneath his sweatpants, forming an obvious outline as each second passes. 

He was enthralled by you. The way you move and the way you behave for him was addictive to see. “Yeonjun, huh?” Jungkook grins, “What’s this hickey for? Little girl?” Jungkook laughs as he lands another critical spank, causing your body to slightly jolt forward. “Is this his way of ‘marking’ you, hm? Claiming you as his own?” he doesn’t stop giggling from his own words, mocking you with a bitter attitude. 

“How pathetic, don’t you think? You allow yourself to be ‘claimed’ by a random dude you just met. Are you proud of yourself? Oh, I bet you’re very delighted that you’ve finally found attention from a boy.” 

He chokes you harder, pressing his thumb firmer against the hickey. The pain shoots throughout your body, making you quiver and close your eyes. However, you don’t respond. It was too humiliating to admit that his words were surprisingly true.

Without a warning, he hooks his index finger along the waistband of your panties and yanks it down. You sharply inhale through your nose, chewing down on your bottom lip as you feel two slender fingers play with your wet slit. Jungkook groans lowly from how wet you are, watching your pussy clench and unclench around nothing. 

“But you… oh you, Y/n—” he flips you back up and positions you to sit on his thighs, straddling him. Jungkook tilts his head and raises both of his brows, looking at you with disbelief. 

He exhales his words out, “You don’t know how to hide that skanky hickey of yours. Have you ever thought about covering up your hickey just as any other teen with a working brain, you slut?” 

Jungkook’s vicious, barbed words hit you like a truck. You look away from him, but he was quick to place a finger on your chin. He flicks his finger up, your head joining the gesture. 

As his tongue dances along with his plush bottom lip, he places his hands on your hips and squeezes thoroughly. His eyes rake your body up and down, your exposed cunt exposed to him. 

“Hickeys 101, Y/n. Conceal and disguise your hickeys if you don’t want to be caught,” he smirks, “but of course you wanted to be caught. You wanted all of this to happen.” 

“I don’t care.” You shake your head, trying your hardest to force a poker-face, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. His hands were toying with your waist, tapping his fingertips on your dressed skin. Why does he have to mess with your mind like this?

Sensual. Your stepdad reeked sex appeal and you hate yourself for loving it so much. His senses stick to you like a shadow you can’t escape, his aura addicting, and you want more of it. 

He pulls you closer, hands on each side of your face. His nose was a millimeter away from your own, and you can feel his hot breath fanning your face. That awful smirk doesn’t wipe off of his face. He looks at your lips, then back to your eyes. As much as he was admiring your beauty, you were doing the same. 

Jungkook was undoubtedly handsome. Perfect, strong features that no man in your liking can ever compare. His luscious, long hair with wavy strands here and there frames his face, encompassing his flawless appearance. 

There’s no way you will ever say no to him. 

He kisses you. Pressing his lips against yours, he kisses you so gently that you forget that he’s supposed to punish you. The kiss was tender and soft, a kiss like he would give to a girl’s first time. 

‘You’re kissing your stepdad, idiot.’ A voice at the back of your mind says. However, easily disregarding that conflicting thought, Jungkook pulls away before you can even take the kiss to the next level. 

“Little girl, oh, baby,” he laughs, “I’m going to hurt you. I’m gonna fucking bruise you until I can see tears in your eyes.” 

He easily throws you on the bed and he starts to strip himself down to his boxers. There was an evident fear written across your face, hugging your knees to your chest as you watch his dick grow beneath his underwear. 

“Take your fucking shirt off,” he growls, “Take everything off. Now.” His natural dominating presence allowed you to obey him quite easily. You did as you were told, keeping eye contact the whole time just to tease him. Sucking your bottom lip, you hide your sly grin. 

Jungkook stands tall from the edge of the bed, his honeydew skin being a perfect contrast with his dark hair. He palms himself through his boxer briefs, not having any hesitation at all. His eyes never leave you as you take off every piece of clothing from your body. You felt a little insecure, yes, but you gulp that nervousness down your throat. 

However, as soon as you took your top off, Jungkook caught a glimpse of more hickeys scattered all over your chest. This sight causes him to tilt his head back with an exasperated sigh. 

“Crawl.” He motions with his index and middle finger a ‘come here’ motion, “Crawl to me, little girl.” 

You get down on all fours and do as your told. He smiles with a content look on his face, but was soon replaced with a seductive gaze, “Did you have sex with that boy?” 

“W-What? No, I didn’t!” you answer quickly, shaking your head. 

His throbbing cock was right in front of your face. Aside from it still being covered with his underwear, you can spot how it twitches then are there. He holds your head with both of his warm hands, “Tell me, little girl. What are you?”

Your mouth gapes open but no word comes out. With your mind filled with lust and desire, you couldn’t understand what he meant. 

Jungkook pulls his cock out, but he doesn’t let you see it at first. He holds your head up and won’t even tolerate you taking a glance. 

“You don’t know what you are, huh?” he scoffs bitterly, “I knew you wouldn’t. What’s a girl like you anyway, right?” 

Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest. 

“Repeat after me, Y/n. I am a whore.” 

You whimper, pouting your lips. 

“C’mon, don’t say it’s too degrading for you, whore. It’s the bare fucking minimum for me. Don’t you want me to be proud of you?” 

Oh, he knows what he’s doing to you. He knows and of your weaknesses and he’s been using those against you. But you – you were naïve enough to notice that. 

“I’m…” you blink rapidly, “I’m a whore.” 

He snarks whilst stroking your luscious hair, “Louder.” 

Jungkook ignores your whines and waits for you with a quirked eyebrow. His patience was wearing thin and you were walking on thin ice right now. 

“I’m a whore.” You repeat loudly this time, the words sinking deep into your soul.

He leans down and slants his head, “And what do whores get, hm?” 

“I-I don’t know.” 

Jungkook wraps a big hand around his thick cock, aligning the tip in front of your mouth. You gasp. “They get their bratty mouths stuffed with dick.”

There wasn’t even a warning as Jungkook shoves his dick down your throat, making you gag and choke harshly around his girth. Jungkook growls deeply, his eyes rolling back to his head. 

Your saliva starts to drip down to your chin as he face-fucks you, not giving you the time to breathe nor to adjust to his long length. With one hand, he creates a makeshift ponytail and pushes your head farther down his dick. 

The whimpers you made out of protest didn’t even work, because the vibrations it caused pleasured him even more. 

“Mhmm, that’s right, struggle for me,” he moans, watching your eyes filling up with tears. “This is where you belong, whore. Right at your stepdad’s mercy and submission. You don’t get to choose what you want because I owe you. I control you.” 

Jungkook further fucks you as his hips thrust back and forth with no remorse. Gagging sounds fill the entire room and it just turns him on increasingly. 

“Look at me. Look at me!” he grunts as he pulls his dick out. He watches a single tear fall down your cheek, making his mouth form another devilish grin.

He leans down to grab something from the floor, but you don’t notice. 

“You’re such a mess, little girl. Just what daddy wants you to be.”

Jungkook takes his shaft and abruptly slaps your cheek with his dick. He hits your flesh a couple of times, humming in delight. 

In a swift, quick second, you suddenly feel a hard and raging sting on your right ass cheek from an unexpected impact. You cry out loud, shutting your eyes from the pain you experienced without a notice. 

His belt. 

The harsh leather material instantly caused redness on your delicate, soft skin. Jungkook whips you again, triggering a downpour of tears. You release incoherent noises every time he spanks you, for every hit was harder and sharper from the last. 

“You’re a naughty, irresponsible little girl.” He declares alongside another hit. He makes sure that each cheek was covered in red belt marks. His cock stands tall before you, drenched in your saliva as it leaks precum. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it and he takes this into account. 

Another hit, he puts all his strength in, making you inhale a sharp breath. Jungkook takes this shot to plunge his dick deep back into your mouth, pushing past your gag reflex as you struggle for air once more. 

Your pussy was awfully drenched and you can feel your wetness drip down from your slit and onto your inner thighs. You’ve never been this wet before, and it was insane that it’s all because of your unquestionably hot step-dad. 

It was like you’re in a porn video. No matter how rough he was fucking your face, you enjoyed it and you were moaning as he obliterates your throat. 

Jungkook pushes his cock deeper, your entire body twitching from the foreign feeling. “Stay there, stay there,” he rasps, “Stay there and take my big fucking dick down your little throat. Yes, that’s right, ohh fuck.” 

Every muscle in his body flexes as he tries to keep you still. "This is all you're good for, slut. You deserve to be used for pleasure from a man. You're nothing but a cockwhore." His biceps harden as he puts your head in place, abs tight. He leans forward and encloses your poor head with his strong thighs, securing yourself to his dick. 

With another crack of his belt onto your ass, you cry. Jungkook admires the sight of chaos he’s created. Once he was satisfied with the look of you, he pulls out. 

This is what he likes; messy and all wet. A string of saliva connects from your lips and to the tip of his dick. You try to catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling so sharply. Looking up at him with red, pitiable eyes, you give him a sullen expression. 

“You see what you did there, little girl? Hm? Now tell me again, what are you?” 

This time, you don’t hesitate. 

“I’m a whore.” 

“Yes, you are. Yes, you are, baby. You’re daddy’s little whore.” 

Your mind turns fuzzy once again. It was clear that you were not yourself anymore. If you weren’t drunk in lust, you wouldn’t let this happen and you absolutely wouldn’t allow him to handle you this way. 

But then again, it was too difficult to not succumb to him. 

“Cute little thing,” he murmurs beneath his breath. “Bet your pussy taste fucking delicious. Go on, turn around for daddy and let him see.” 

Your cheeks blush once you’ve obeyed his order and your cunt was exposed all for his eyes. Feeling a hand run down your sore ass, you whine as his fingers trail down your inner thighs, purposely ignoring your needy pussy. 

Jungkook was biting his lip so hard that he can almost draw blood. Ever so slightly, the pad of his thumb glides across your wet slit, lightly pressing against it. “Jungkook,” you whisper, wiggling your butt for more. 

“Oww fuck!” you drop your face on the mattress when Jungkook slaps your pussy unanticipatedly. Legs quivering in need, you bite down on the sheets. 

“Surprised that you don’t know how to address me, Y/n.” In a quick motion, he pushes two fingers inside your sopping entrance. 

Already feeling full, your back painfully arches as you attempt to take his fingers that were thrusting in and out so boldly. Suave movements of his digits caused a chill down your back, feeling too much euphoria at once. 

“What’s my name again?” he inquires before using his thumb to rub on your throbbing clit. 

“Daddy,” you reply quickly, not wanting to be punished further. 

“Good girl,” he chuckles, “that’s what a good girl should do; follow instructions without having to tell twice. You just love taking orders, don’t you? Huh?” 

“I-I do,” your face heats up immensely, stomach churning. 

Jungkook hums approvingly as he spreads your ass cheeks apart with his hands. You can feel the heat radiating off of his face as he leans into your cunt. With a bold lick of his tongue, your body shivers as the strong muscle toys with your folds. 

“Oh, please,” you moan, “that feels so good.” 

“Really now?” Jungkook gathers a bunch of his saliva and spits it down on your cunt, making it wetter and lubricated than it already was. He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks profusely, licking and biting here and there. The sound of your moans fueled his hunger for your cum, but he was not letting you go so easily. 

His tongue flicks your clit without mercy before inserting two fingers inside your hole once more. He feels your walls flutter around his digits, signaling your upcoming orgasm. 

He pulls away completely. 

Jungkook ignores your cries and how you bucked your hips to him, wanting more. He instructs you to lay down on the bed with your back against the headboard. Grasping the belt in his hand, you swallow the formed ball down your throat as you watch him crawl to you – like a predator hunting for its prey. 

“Pretty,” he mumbles to himself, eyeing you up and down. He kneels before you and grabs your neck, pulling you to him. If it weren’t for his lewdness and obscure actions, then you would say that his smile was sweet. But you know for a fact that his mind was thinking of different ways on how to torture you. 

Your eyes widen as he wraps the black leather belt around your jugular, using it like it's a dog collar and leash. “What are you – ohh…” Jungkook tightens the belt not enough to suffocate you, but enough for you to feel that it’ there. 

“Gotta hide that hideous hickey of yours, little girl. The more I look at it, the more I remember how much of a slut you are for that boy. Tell me, can Yeonjun make you feel the way I make you feel?” 

"No," you meekly reply with a little shake of your head. Nothing will ever compare to what Jungkook makes you feel than any other.

He wraps the belt around his fist and tugs on it, causing you to jolt forward, face closer to him. His nose barely grazes against yours. "Tell daddy you're sorry."

"B-But..."

He tilts his head in confusion, surely not expecting you to reply with anything else than a simple 'sorry.'

"But what?" he nags, slowly growing annoyed.

"I didn't mean to do it with Yeonju—". 

*Slap*

His hands collide with your right cheek, slapping your face with no remorse, making you release a loud whimper of pain. Jungkook growls and roughly holds your cheek, making you pout. Your eyes instantly tear up from the stinging pain, and Jungkook leans to your ear to whisper; "Say. Sorry." 

He releases his grip on your cheeks so you can answer properly, "I'm sorry...daddy."

"Good girl," he says simply before leaning in to give a tender, wet kiss on your lips. He smiles before you, eyes turning into little crescents with dark irises staring directly into yours, "Have you learned your lesson?" 

"Yes, I do." 

"Well, what've you learned, little girl?" he caresses your reddened cheek, "You promise to be good from now on and obey daddy?" 

"I promise." You reply in an almost inaudible whisper. Thankfully, it was enough for Jungkook. 

However, he wasn't done with you. He was yet to put his dick inside your pussy. Thanks to his strong build, Jungkook easily flips you around on your stomach, making you lay flat on the bed. He hovers on top of you with his dick in between your butt. 

Grabbing your wrists to secure them behind your back, he takes his shaft with his other hand and aligns his cock to your dripping pussy's entrance. 

"Want my cock?" Jungkook asks with a raspy voice, turned-on from the sight of your bruised butt with the combination of your sweet cunt, the folds all wet and ready for him. 

"Mhm, please put it in me..." you insist politely. 

Without hesitating, Jungkook pushes his tip inside your heat. "God, fuck," he chuckles, moaning right after, "you have such a tight pussy. So fucking tight and wet for my dick. Mhmm..."

Your pussy walls inevitably flutter around his girth once he had his whole tip in, and you can’t help yourself but twitch and squirm. Jungkook finds this endearing. 

“Daddy,” you mewl, “please put it all in me.” 

‘Well, if you said so.’ Jungkook thinks before shoving his whole length in. Ignoring how your back arched and the loud yelp you released, Jungkook thrusts his dick in and out of your pussy so good like he was a sex-god. 

His dick is covered in your juices as he rubs his precum all over your walls, getting you all nice and extra-lubricated for him. Your moans motivate him to continue, his primal instincts were ultimately getting the best of him. 

“F-Fuck,” he stutters, biting his bottom lip. It has been a while since he’s felt pussy wrapped around his cock, consequently, he ravishes on the sensation he missed so fucking much. “You’re being so good taking my dick, mhmm, you like it deep inside that young pussy?” he asks with a tint of mockery in his tone, “I bet you’re the type to prefer older men’s dick.” His thrusts were getting rougher and rougher, deeper, making you feel so full. His words were like honey, despite how lewd they are, the way how he spoke to you made you addicted. 

Jungkook holds your wrists tighter, nails digging down your skin. “I know your little boyfriends can’t satisfy you. That’s why you only want my cock, correct, little lady?” 

“M-Mhmm,” you respond as his balls clap against your ass. 

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your entire life. Only vulgar and lecherous sounds can be heard and you never want it to stop. His fervent, erotic moans sounded so hot made you milk his cock even harder. And it worked; Jungkook feels you tightening, clenching and unclenching. 

Pounding you like this from behind, all submissive for him was feeding onto his dark, domineering desires. Getting you all for himself was easier than he expected. 

“Do you want to cum?” he flips you around and starts fucking you in missionary, the new position makes you throw your head back as his cock hits your g-spot over and over again. 

You mouth the word ‘yes’, having no energy to form a coherent word. 

Jungkook chuckles, lifting both your legs up to his shoulders, creating more leeway for him to move deeper. 

“Ohh my god, just like that!” 

“Yeah?” He presses his body to yours, sweaty bodies pressed together. Without wiping away that smirk of his, he brings his mouth to yours to kiss you one again. 

You felt a sensory overload. With each hard, delicious thrust, you keep moaning into his mouth that you can’t even give him a proper kiss. “I-I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you sob, “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Hold it.” He snaps, “Hold your cum. Wait for my instructions.” 

His breathing was getting unsteady, you feel your room getting hotter and hotter with each second. All you can think of was his cock drilling inside your cunt. His long hair drapes from his face and the tips were slightly ticking your cheeks. The veins in his neck were protruding, making him look ten times hotter. 

His cock was making you dumb. You can almost forget that he was your stepdad – for he was just an older man you lusted for. 

“Be a good cockslut for me, m’kay baby? You’re already a good girl for letting daddy take control over you. I’m gonna let you cum as a reward.” 

“Mmnggg, please!” 

With his hand, he grabs your belt-clad throat and squeezes hard, making you see stars. Your toes curl up from this specific action. 

“Open your mouth.” He says in a hurry, teeth gritted together, “Open your slutty mouth.” 

After a second that you parted your lips, Jungkook spits in your mouth unexpectedly. This made you wild. You didn’t dare to close your mouth and swallow his already existing spit because you wanted more. “Ohh, I see what you want,” Jungkook snickers, “filthy little whore. Swallow and I’ll give you more.” 

Subsequently, he praises you with words that made you blush. He gives you another load of his spit, and you consume it immediately. If Jungkook was hard earlier, he was now rock-solid from your freaky behavior he didn’t know you comprised.

“Daddy, please! I can’t hold it in…” your body slightly quivers from the unforgiving impact of his cock, squeezing your walls so tightly to prevent yourself from spilling your cum onto him. 

Jungkook can’t wait any longer himself, “Cum. Cum on my cock, baby. Do it – oh shit – do it now.” 

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back to your head. You felt an overwhelming drive of euphoria rush through your system as you let yourself loose on his cock. “Jesus Christ, you’re so hot, little girl,” Jungkook groans, “There, there,” he pumps his cock faster to catch his orgasm.

"Daddy's gonna cum inside your mouth," Jungkook's cock twitches instantly from the thought, "Imma spill my seed deep inside your throat. You're not wasting any spills, little girl, you're lucky to even get a taste of my cum. For a slut like you don't deserve a single shit. A-Ahhh fuck, y-you’re lucky your so goddamn cute that I – mmngg – couldn’t resist giving you daddy’s cum."

Within a couple of deep, mind-blowing thrusts, he pulls out and crawls over to your face. Automatically opening your mouth to accept his cock, he pushes his length down and past your gag-reflex. “B-Baby, baby, fucking shit,” he grits his teeth, hands clawing at your hair, “Take my cum, c’mon, I know you can. I know you can take this sweet daddy cum. Mhmm that’s a good girl, that’s daddy’s good little girl.” 

Your throat contracts and gags as he fills you up, spilling his seed down your pipe. Tears started to fall down your woeful eyes, attempting to take everything that was given to you. 

You knew you were going to hell for this – for all of this. But at least you’ve enjoyed yourself and got what you’ve wanted. 

It was undeniably crazy how quick he got you into submission. Was it the way that he talks to you, the way he can technically read your mind and identify all of the things you desired, or was it just your daddy issues coming to play? 

Whatever it was, you didn’t regret a single bit of this to happen.

Who knows if this will occur to you again; if you’ll receive the same pleasure as this again? 

“Come ‘ere, let me wrap you in my arms,” Jungkook whispers after cleaning you up. Nodding, you scooch over to him to allow his warmth to resonate through your naked body. 

He is the perfect big spoon. He rests his chin on top of your head, humming a song to soothe you. 

Looking outside the window, you see that the sky is painted with variations of orange and red, signaling the arrival of dawn. Your eyes grow big as you examine the time on the wall clock; 4:00 A.M. You have three and a half hours left until classes start. 

Jungkook minds how your body tenses. He holds you a bit tighter and snuggles his face into the crook of your neck. Even though he can see those awful hickeys, he turns a blind eye to them. 

“Skip classes. Daddy won’t be mad,” he titters, “Although, your mom will be home anytime soon today.” 

You emit a gasp, “Wait, today?” 

“Yes,” he sneers, understanding the panic in your eyes, “Remember what I told you, Y/n. Hickeys 101, cover—”

“Cover it up.” 

After you’ve slept through all your classes for today, you woke up in the afternoon exactly when your mother just arrived from her trip. 

Your whole body was sore. You can’t walk straight and your hair was in tangles. Before exiting your bedroom, you went to your bathroom, grabbed your makeup back, and covered your hickeys with concealer. 

‘Yeonjun… should I even see him again?’ 

The makeup did the bare minimum of covering your bruises. It wasn’t the best coverage ever, but it was enough. Parting your hair to the side to hide most of the skin of your neck, you finally went outside. 

“Y/n!” your mother exclaims, raising her head after she was scurrying deep inside her bag. “There you are. Are classes dismissed early?” 

Your step-dad chuckles behind her as he was carrying the rest of her luggage to the living room. Jungkook glances at you. 

“Yes.” You straight out lied. 

“I see. Oh! And did Jungkook treat you well?” 

You almost choked in your spit. 

“Was he good to you?” your mom raises her brows to Jungkook, “Or was Y/n a pain in the ass, babe?” 

Your face turns red in an instant. You wanted to laugh from the double-meaning of her words.  

“Y/n was a pain in the ass but don’t worry…” Jungkook smirks at you, his eyes hinting a sultry, teasing look, “She’s a good girl nevertheless.” 

The way Jungkook looks at you has to be a crime. There’s never a moment where you didn’t feel a single thing whenever he locks his handsome eyes with yours. It was an incredibly intense feeling – a feeling that you know you’ll crave.

“Mm. Okay. You look…” she scans your figure, head to toe. “tired. But anyway, come here and help me unpack. I have tons of stories and gossips to tell!” Your mom exclaims as she sits down on the couch. 

Before you can even approach her, Jungkook grabs your right arm and puts you in front of him. Afraid that he’ll do something you’ll regret, you pull away – but he shakes his head. 

Jungkook puts his index finger in front of his mouth, looking down at you while he whispers, “Shhh,” he leans forward and mouths the next words close to your ear, “Act like nothing happened, little girl.” 

[svucarisiaddict]

I'm so glad you're back!! Can I request angst/fluff with Nick Amaro and....

36. “I’m afraid you’ll end up seeing me the way I see myself.”

39. “Stay for me.”

An unknown number came up on your screen, so you ignored the call. Then, when the same number called back, you decided to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Y/N?” the woman asked.

You furrowed your brow. “It is. Who am I speaking with?” you replied.

“This is Maria, Nick’s ex-wife,” she stated. “I think we need to talk about Nick.” Her voice was even, but you sensed an edge as well. Why in the world could she be calling? Nick had already told her to mind her own business.

“What about Nick?” you asked. Immediately your anxiety shot through the roof. Did she still harbor feelings for him? Was she mad that you told Zara about your pregnancy? “I think he already told you it was-”

Maria interrupted you. “This isn’t about your relationship per se. I just want you to know what you’re getting yourself into,” she stated. “Let me preface this by saying Nick never hurt Zara or me. Nick is like a stick of dynamite, Y/N. The slightest thing can set him off. He’s been violent in the past. Did you know Nick got arrested for assaulting my psychiatrist because he thought I was having an affair? And he went to jail for beating the shit out of a suspect.”

This was all news to you. While you knew Nick had a bit of a temper, you had not seen any violent behavior. Your head was spinning with the information she gave you.“Uh, no, he-” you started.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. That incident is just the tip of the iceberg. Just ask Amanda, Olivia, or anyone in that squad room about how easily NIck could get worked up. They know.” She proceeded to list incidents involving Nick. “I’m not doing this to cause trouble. I just think you should know since you’ll have a child together. I wish I would have seen the red flags before I married him.”

You were quiet for a few moments before you spoke. “Thank you, Maria. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to talk to him about it.”

Maria sighed.”I wouldn’t. I called so that you could be aware of how Nick can be. Oh, by the way, Zara really likes you..”

A smile crossed your lips. “I really like her too. She’s a great kid.”

“She sure is. Ok. I’m going to let you go. Just remember what I said. Bye, Y/N, and good luck,” she said.

“Bye, Maria.”

After the call with Maria, your head was spinning. How much of what she said was true? Was she trying to derail your relationship? Should you ask Nick or just leave it alone until he wants to share it with you? You wrote down some of the incidents so you could research them.

Your curiosity got the better of you. Opening up your laptop, you began an internet search on Nick. There wasn’t anything about the incidents Maria told you about, but you found something else. “0.49?! Drunk” Cop Cripples Kid, the headline read. After reading the article, you concluded it was all an accident.

“I was going to tell you about that. Just didn’t have the words,” Nick said from behind you.

His voice caused you to jump. “I didn’t know you were home.”

Nick picked up the notebook with your notes. “Obviously,” he said in a clipped tone. He threw the notebook back down on the table then left the room.

“Shit,” you said quietly. Then, pushing up from the desk, you went in search of Nick. “I’m sorry,” you said, but you weren’t sure why you were sorry.

Nick stared at you as he took a long swig of beer. “What are you sorry about?”.

You tore your eyes away from him, looking down at your hands. “I dunno,” you answered with a shrug.

“Then why say it?” Nick brushed past you and headed for the living room. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV, selecting a Yankee’s game with the volume up loud.

Following him, you leaned against the door frame. “We need to talk about something.”

Nick drug his eyes to yours. “Talk.”

“Ok, um. I got a phone call today fr-from Maria.”

Nick rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “This should be good.” He muted the game then put his feet up on the coffee table. “Let’s hear it.”

“She called to warn me about your temper. That you beat up her psychiatrist and a pedophile that got acquitted, then she said that if I asked anyone at the precinct about your temper, they would have a story about how you lost it,” you explained.

“So you started doing research, huh?” he asked and nodded his head to the desk. Nick held your gaze. Sometimes it was like he was looking right into your soul. It could be unnerving.

“Is it true? The things she said?” You moved to take the seat beside him on the couch.

Nick pressed his lips into a thin line. “Mostly,” he answered quietly. He ran his hands up and down his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me? So instead, I had to hear it from your ex-wife,” you said flatly. “I know our relationship is new, but these are pretty big things to keep hidden.”

Nick stood suddenly, running his fingers through his overlong hair. “God, Y/N. Don’t you think I know that?” Nick started pacing back and forth. “The truth is I’m afraid you’ll end up seeing me the way I see myself.” His eyes looked haunted and were brimming with tears when he looked into yours.

You weren’t sure where the self-loathing came from, but he had it in spades.

“Well, I don’t know how you see yourself, Nicky,” you said softly, making your way to him. “I’ll tell you how I see you. I see a person who risks his life for strangers, a father that loves his children with all that he has, and a loyal friend.”

Tears were stinging your eyes. It hurt to see the extraordinary man you loved so much think so little of himself.

Nick leaned into your touch when you reached up to cup his cheek, his tears wetting your hand. His hands rested on your hips.

“I also see the man that I love. The man who isn’t perfect but loves, cares, and protects me like no one has before you finished, your voice barely a whisper.

Nick pulled you to his chest and kissed the crown of your head. “I love you so much,” he sniffed, as his arms squeezed you tighter.

“Oh, Nick. My cup runneth over,” said, your arms hugging him tight around his waist.

After a couple of minutes, Nick released and took you by the hand to the couch. He proceeded to tell you about the pedophile he assaulted, rightfully so. However, when he attacked Maria’s psychiatrist, he was wrong. He knew he should have talked to Maria. The other times he lost his temper were work-related. His line of work was stressful. Liv helped him through his urge to pummel the perps. He owned up to each incident. Nick went to anger management and continued to see a counselor to help with anger and work-related issues.

“Now that you know everything, I hope you’ll stay. Stay for me. Stay for you. Stay for us,” Nick said softly, his hand on your belly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him, taking his warm hand into yours. “Nothing, anyone, has to say can change that.” You kissed him. “There is one more problem though.”

Nick furrowed his brow. “What is it?”

“The baby and I are starving,” you said.

Nick chuckled. “And what are the two of you craving tonight?”

“Mmm,” you said, rubbing your belly. “Italian?”

“Italian it is but first a nice hot bath."

[jarofstyles]

Crush

A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. FILTH. 

word count: 9.7k

Harry felt a bit creepy. 

It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty. 

Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.

Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous. 

Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that  he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line. 

Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying. 

“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.

Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit. 

“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.” 

Great. Already rambling. 

Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm. 

“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.

“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised. 

“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”

“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name. 

This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.

“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”

“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.

“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.

English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it. 

“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.

“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.

“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.

“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit. 

He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited. 

“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.

“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little  📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?

“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.

-----

Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as. 

‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’

Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down. 

‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’

‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’ 

She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to. 

‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’

That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.

——

Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more. 

He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.

If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note. 

‘I like your cardigan :)’

It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.

He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her. 

‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’ 

He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!

‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’ 

She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends. 

Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.

Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.

Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting. 

Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.

‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’

She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.

——

When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful. 

“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.

“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to. 

Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—

Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already. 

“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.

“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.

“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.

“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.

“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.

“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.

Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out. 

“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.  

“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault. 

“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it? 

“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.

They were meant to be studying. 

That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story. 

The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy. 

Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery. 

This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?

Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.

“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.

Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek. 

“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”

Harry blanked. 

Oh. fuck.

He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit. 

“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this. 

“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”

“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.” 

Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.

“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”

“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”

Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck. 

“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.

“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.

“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”

“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal. 

Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.

“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”

Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.

“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.

“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.

Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing. 

“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.

“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”

He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion. 

“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”

“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”

Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up. 

“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”

Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.

“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.

“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this. 

At least, that was until the doorbell rang. 

“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”

-------------------------------------------------

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masterlist

[asthmark]

❝ 10 things i know about you ❞ l.jn

synopsis → there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

request → “if you're still accepting requests, can u make a domestic roommate!jeno? 🥺🥺 thank you and have a nice dayyy”

word count → 7.1k (bruhhh)

sharing an apartment with lee jeno isn’t ideal.

it’s not that he’s a lousy roommate or that you disliked him in any way; you just didn’t know him. you had first met through a mutual friend. they knew jeno was looking for someone to split rent with and that you happened to need a place to stay. they promised you he would give you privacy and assured jeno you were excellent roommate material. with that, arrangements were made and soon enough you moved in together. of course, it was a bit awkward at first but you two eventually got used to each other’s presence. although you were never in the same room for too long and oftentimes went days without speaking, you coexisted.

for a long time, you only knew a couple things about your roommate. for example, you were aware of his strong love for cats, especially his pet calico, seol. you also knew he kept the freezer stocked with pizza rolls that he would use as energy when he stayed up all night playing video games.

what you didn’t know, however, was that you would be spending the next couple months locked in your apartment with him. on top of that, you would begin to learn more things about him—his life, his personality, his feelings.

there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

       1. he’s a heavy sleeper.

at 10:28 in the morning you find yourself seated at the dining table in the kitchen, spooning froot loops into your mouth. as you stuff your face, you scroll through your phone for entertainment. you decide to open instagram first but you quickly find that to be a mistake. as soon as you open the app a picture of lucas and who you thought was his ex-girlfriend greets you. if that was bad, the caption hits you like a ton of bricks.

@lucas_xx444: should have never left you

in only five words, lucas has completely erased the months you spent dating. it meant nothing to him. sure, things hadn’t ended things the best way but going right back to his toxic ex and even admitting to missing her—now that was a new low. was this his way of getting back at you? his way of making you hurt just like he had throughout your entire relationship? the thought alone leaves you feeling sick.

you decide you’ve already had enough social media for one morning so you decide to check your messages instead. your friends usually left a couple of them overnight. to your surprise, you find that your main group chat has accumulated 241 messages.

[10:48 am] you: good morning i see u guys have been vry chatty

[10:49 am] yeji: ur finally awake!

[10:50 am] yuna: we thought u died lol

[10:50 am] lia: YUNA

[10:50 am] lia: NO

[10:51 am] ryujin: the timing for that joke could not be worse

[10:52 am] yuna: humor is my coping mechanism leave me alone

[10:52 am] you: ??? what happened

[10:53 am] chaeryeong: we left msgs for a reason dummy read them!!

[10:53 am] you: umm there’s over 200 and im not abouta read all that

[10:54 am] yuna: well then lemme break it down

[10:54 am] yuna: the world is ending :)

[10:55 am] you: welp it was about time

[10:55 am] lia: why r u guys like this

[10:56 am] yeji: there’s been a covid-19 outbreak and it’s spreading like wildfire so the government issued a stay at home order :/

[10:57 am] you: omg WHAT

[10:57 am] ryujin: ikr it’s crazy we literally can’t go anywhere

[10:57 am] chaeryeong: and we can’t get boba today either ;( i was so looking forward to that

[10:58 am] ryujin: let’s pls take a moment of silence for all the current and future boba dates that will have to be cancelled

[10:59 am] yuna: no way am i gonna let some wannabe flu make me go boba-less i’m still going out >:(

[10:59 am] lia: ...ur joking right

[10:59 am] yeji: what color casket do u want yuna?

before the groupchat can distract you any further, you place your phone down on the table. you sit back in your chair and let the newly revealed information sink in.

you were stuck inside.

you sigh before standing to clean your dishes. as you’re scrubbing away at your bowl, you feel something brush against your leg. you smile, not even having to look down to know it was seol. the cat would often wander into your room or sleep next to you when you watched tv on the couch. in fact, you were pretty sure you spent more time with seol than his owner.

you gaze at jeno’s room. as always, the door is shut. you wonder if you should let him know what was happening. you two usually kept your distance but you figured that the circumstance you found yourself in was an exception. you quickly dry your hand and shuffle towards his room.

you knock once, quite softly. you assume he’s asleep so you try again, this time a little harder. still, no avail. the third time you put even more force into it. by this time, seol has found his way beside you and claws at the door.

“jeno?” you knock a fourth time. “jeno! lee jeno!”

after more shouting accompanied by incessant meowing, you hear some muffled movement. moments later the door knob twists open and there stands your roommate with disheveled hair and a robe that had obviously just been thrown on his body. seol has taken the open crack in the door as an invitation inside the bedroom.

jeno blinks a couple times as he watches the feline get himself comfortable on his bed. he turns back to you, looking slightly disoriented. you’re not sure if he’s half asleep or your sudden presence has thrown him for a loop. his voice comes out raspy when he asks, “was he, um, bothering you or something?”

you shake your head, vigorously. “that’s not why i came. it’s just that my friends told me that there’s been some kind of virus outbreak and we’re supposed to stay home. so, i thought i’d let you know.”

his face softens. “oh, cool.” suddenly, the look changes. “not the virus thing! that’s totally not cool. i meant, it’s cool that you let me know and stuff. you just saved me a huge freak out so, uh, thank you.”

you smile and nod. “no problem.”

jeno’s eyes linger as you retreat back into your room down the hall. the sound of his door shutting is heard only once you’re out of his eyesight.

   2.    he can cook better than you.

most of the time, you would go out to eat dinner with your friends in the evenings or at least stop by a drive thru. obviously, this was no longer possible in the midst of a pandemic. you found that to be incredibly frustrating as you sat on your bed, stomach empty. no matter how badly you wished to fix it, your laziness had gotten the best of you. apart from that, you already knew how unlucky you were when it came to cooking—the memory of burning noodles at lia’s house one night had been permanently seared into your brain.

you almost believe your mind is playing tricks on you when you catch a whiff of pasta in the air. for a moment you think it’s your next door neighbor, taeyong, cooking again. you knew he was quite the chef. but, the smell is getting stronger by the second and you decide it must be in your apartment.

you wander into the kitchen, only to find jeno standing over the stove. he’s stirring red sauce in a pot when he notices you watching him.

“oh, hey,” he greets with a polite wave.

you can only stare at the rest of the kitchen—pots, pans, and ingredients all over the place—in utter awe.

he chuckles, awkwardly. “yeah, sorry about the mess. i’ve been told i’m a decent cook but i can never seem to get the tidiness down.”  

“no, it’s not that. this just all seems so... professional.” you sniff the air once more. “smells amazing, too.”

he smiles, sheepishly. “thanks. are you a fan of spaghetti?”

you nod.

“good. i wanted to make something you’d like.”

“you really didn’t have to,” you say, leaning against the fridge. “i mean, i’ve never done anything for you.”

he uncovers a pot to check on the pasta. you watch as hot steam rises out of it. “what about this morning?”

you can’t help but laugh. “that most certainly does not count. you’re making an entire meal. that takes a lot of effort.”

he waves a hand, dismissively. “i used to cook a lot with my old roommate, doyoung. the guy was an asian gordon ramsey, i swear. so, yeah, this is nothing too crazy. and i really do enjoy it.”

“well, i’m still gonna repay you.” you fold your arms.

he looks away from his dish to raise a brow. “is that so?”

you nod in confirmation. “definitely.”

“tell you what, if you wash the mountain of dishes that are gonna be left over, we’ll be even.”

you stare at the sink that’s already overflowing with dirty kitchen tools. that wasn’t even half of it. “uh, sure, sounds good.”

he laughs at hearing the uncertainty in your voice. “that’s the spirit.”

   3.    he’s allergic to cats.

the familiar sound of soft purring is what pulls you attention away from the movie playing on your laptop. already knowing exactly who it is, you launch yourself off your bed to allow your furry guest inside.  

“hey seol. what’ve you been up to?”

the calico meows, almost as if he were responding to your question. you close your door and go back to your original position. you notice seol sitting directly in front of your bed, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“come on up.” you pat your sheets, invitingly.

he obeys and stretches before laying down beside you.

“have you ever watched ‘avengers’?” you ask, eyes going back to the explosive fight scene on the screen.

this time, seol doesn’t even bother humoring you with a meow. he stays silent with his head tucked into his paws.

you scratch his head and his tail wiggles. “i’ve gotta stop asking you questions.”

both you and seol’s heads snap towards the door when you hear a knock.

“come in!” you call out.  

jeno swings open the door. his eyes briefly scan the room before landing on the furball on your bed. the unmistakable look of adoration shines in his eyes when he sees how lovingly you caress him.

“seol! what are you doing in here? bothering y/n?” the cat jumps off your bed and towards his owner standing in your doorway. jeno scoops him into his arms and faces you. “i’m so sorry. he saw me running a bath for him and bolted.”

“it’s all good. he’s a great movie buddy. besides, i could always use the company.”

jeno curiously glances at your computer screen. “is that ‘avengers’?”

“yep. i’ve seen it like a dozen times.”

“same here.“ he pauses. “hey, if you ever need a movie buddy—like you know, one that talks—just let me know.”

your face lights up. “i’m gonna hold you to that.”

”i hope so. well, if you’ll excuse me, i’ve gotta give this guy a bath.”

seol yowls as if he understands the meaning behind the words and attempts to escape jeno’s grip.    

“here we go again,” he mumbles under his breath.

you snicker at the sight. “looks like you could use some help.”

“oh, no. it’s fine. he can just be a little bratty someti—seol!”

in the blink of an eye, the feline has successfully hopped out of his arms and made a run for it.

jeno gives you an exasperated look before rushing off to catch his runway pet. you find yourself caught up in the excitement so you follow him, the two of you now in pursuit of the calico. you’re sure the image of you both chasing the fluffy animal around the apartment looks like something straight out of a comedy. even you and jeno can’t contain your laughter when he finally catches seol only for him to slip out of his hold a second later. this exact situation repeats itself a couple times before you finally get lucky.

“i got him!” you screech. “jeno! oh my god! what do i do?”

“bathroom, bathroom, bathroom!” he chants in response.

you head in that direction with jeno trailing behind you, ready to catch seol if he somehow manages to get out of your death grip. you bend over the bathtub, slowly lowering the cat into the water. it’s clear he doesn’t have a problem with making a fuss as he wails and flails his limbs around.

after a while, he finally calms down enough that you can lather him in shampoo. jeno insists on scrubbing him, arguing that you had already done way too much. you sit back on your heels, observing the way the seol leans into his delicate touches.

“looks like he likes it now.”

“he likes to make a big deal but he ends up enjoying it every—“ jeno cuts himself off with a sneeze.

“tissue?” you offer.

he shakes his head. “that’s okay, thanks. i’m used to it. i’m just surprised my allergies haven’t acted up ‘til now.”

“allergies?” you echo.

“yeah, i’m allergic to—“ another sneeze. “cats.”

your eyes widen. “really? and you still have seol?”

“i could never get rid of him. he’s too good of a boy. isn’t—“ sneeze. “that right?” he tickles seol under his chin.

“wow. you must really love him.”

“so much.”

“he’s lucky to have you.”

“what about you? you get both of us. doesn’t that make you the luckiest?”

you snort. “i guess it does.”

   4.    he makes a good shopping buddy.

“i have officially cooked everything we have.”

“i can order some takeout, if you want?”

he juts his lower lip out and gives you puppy eyes. “but i like to cook for you.”

you laugh at his expression. “oh god, you look like that one pouty emoji people use when they try to be cute.”

he sits up. “did it work?”

you nod and pinch his cheek.

he yelps. “ah, stop! you’re acting like my grandma!” he manages to get out of your grasp. he rubs his face, soothing the spots you had squeezed. “seriously, though, we really do need to stock up on food.”

“i’ve already been looking into it.” you show him the screen of your phone. “says here you can still go shopping as long as you wear a mask and try to stay six feet away from other shoppers.”

he cringes. “i don’t know if i like the idea of being so close to so many people.”

“i can go by myself, then,” you suggest with a shrug.

he doesn’t hesitate to deny you. “no way are you going alone.” his possessive tone has you staring at him curiously so he adds, “you know, in case you can’t reach something on the top shelf.”

the teasing comment paired with his innocent smile makes you gasp in disbelief. “lee jeno! that’s low! and to think i almost thought you were worried about me.”

“who said i wasn’t?” he smiles at you again before standing up. “i’m going to find us some masks and then we can head out.”  

once you arrive at your local grocery store, you find it to be packed. everyone seems to be in a hurry, grabbing things left and right.

“wow, it’s already gotten crazy,” jeno mumbles, stopping to stare at the flood of people that rush by.

you don’t hesitate to scold him. “well, don’t just stand there! we gotta get our stuff before there’s nothing left!”

without another word you slip into the frenzy of people. jeno struggles to stay behind you. after almost losing sight of you a couple times, he walks a little faster to catch up and places his arm firmly around your waist once he does. you look up at him, your mask covering your slightly agape mouth.

being the gentleman he is, he apologizes. “sorry but i don’t want us to get separated.”

you can only nod and mumble, “good idea.”

jeno pushes the shopping cart with his right hand and holds your figure with his left. once in a while, you’ll break apart from each other to grab an item you need but once it’s in the cart, he’ll make sure you end up in the same position. after an hour or so, you’ve grabbed enough and you decide it’s time to pay.

despite the mask she has on, you can tell the middle-aged woman behind the cash register has a big smile on her face once she catches sight of you and your roommate.

“well, just look at you two.” she sighs. “how cute.”

“oh.” you glance at her then jeno then her again. “oh, no. it’s not like that.”

you attempt to move yourself away from jeno only to find his grip to be so incredibly strong that you almost begin to think he’s trying to hold you in place. once you finally detach yourself from him, you begin loading your groceries onto the counter for the employee to scan. she does so, but not before giving you a displeased look.  

“oh really? he holds you like that because you aren’t together?”

jeno assists her in placing the scanned items in bags. “i didn’t want to lose her.”

she pauses scanning a can of tuna to stare him down. “darling, that sounds like a line from a cheesy hallmark rom-com.”

you can’t help but chuckle. “what he means is that there’s a lot of people here and we didn’t want to get separated.”

jeno adds, “desperate times calls for desperate measures.”

the woman adjusts her glasses. “well, you do certainly seem desperate to have her close to you.”

jeno doesn’t say a word as he continues bagging but his smile reaches his eyes.

   5.    he works out.

why did the pandemic have to hit in the middle of summer?

you often asked yourself this, complaining about how inconvenient it was. especially on the days that made your apartment feel like it was on fire. the days that required a thin tank top and shorts. even then, you found yourself to be drenched in sweat.

you sprawled your arms and legs farther on the sofa, the leather material proving to be very uncomfortable. it was either that or your bed with the warm cotton sheets that stuck to your body. just thinking about it brings you discomfort. the only relief you could think of was a cold shower. you would have already taken one if jeno hadn’t been hogging the one bathroom in the apartment.

“jeno!” you yell.

silence; other than the sound of the water running.

“lee jeno!”

the water stops, temporarily for him to shout back an answer. “what?!”

you wipe at the sweat that has accumulated on the bridge of your nose. “hurry up! i’m melting!”

the water starts back up again and you groan. hoping to distract yourself, you pull out your phone. the group chat with your friends is surprisingly silent so you go to instagram for some entertainment. this time, your ex-boyfriend’s post isn’t the first thing you see. it takes you some scrolling but you do end up seeing another one of his pictures.

it’s simply two intertwined hands with a black and white filter. you identify the one on the left as his and although you aren’t as familiar with the one on the right, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it belongs to. contrary to the last, this photo has no cheesy words for a caption, just a red heart.  

but, your stomach doesn’t drop. you don’t feel hurt, either. obviously, you still don’t enjoy seeing him just because of all the awful memories that came with it but other than that, you feel unaffected by the image.

in fact, you feel so confident in yourself that you block him.

you’re surprised you hadn’t done it sooner. you had known you didn’t need him in your life any longer so why keep in contact? you feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders when you press the red button that would keep him and his girlfriend out of your life. you knew with your whole heart that you didn’t need to see either of them.

before, a bit if you had felt the need to keep an eye on him. to see how he was handling the breakup and torture yourself with the fact that he didn’t seem to care. now, you could say you truly didn’t either. you didn’t need him or his stupid pictures. you had other, better things.

your friends.

your cat (yes, you considered seol to be yours).

your roommate.

you had to admit, jeno was the best thing on that list. quarantine had brought you and him significantly closer and you were over the moon about it. he was so wonderful that you kicked yourself for having lived with him for so long without ever really getting to know him. but it was easy to say you two were making up for lost time seeing as you spent every waking moment together. the record long showers jeno took being an exception, of course.

the moment the door to the bathroom opens, you rush into your room and quickly grab an oversized t-shirt and loose pajama pants to change into after your shower. you nearly drop them when you’re met with jeno’s soaking figure in the hallway.

his hair is damp and you can clearly see how long it had become. his skin looks healthy and moisturized, lotion among other skin care products had probably been applied. what really has you in a shock is the fact that the towel barely hangs below his waist. the droplets of water that fall from his hair and down his neck trail down his chest and toned torso towards the only area he has bothered to cover up. his bulky arms are also slightly wet, his veins popping noticeably. he shakes his head in an attempt to rid his hair of any water. then he runs his fingers through it, his muscles flexing ever so slightly as he does so.

“dude!” you exclaim, without a second thought. “you’re ripped!”

he smiles, his round cheeks growing at the unexpected praise. the way he could have such a rugged body but soft-featured face puzzled you to no extent. “thank you. i lift sometimes.”

“sometimes?” you repeat. “don’t be so humble! you’re basically hercules!”

he clicks his tongue. “ah, c’mon. i’m just an athletic person.”

you keep admiring his physique. “clearly.”

“oh god,” he groans, obviously flustered. “you’re looking at me like you’re gonna eat me or something.”

you hold yourself back from making a less than appropriate innuendo. “no comment.”

his eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “quarantine is really making you go crazy.”

you point a finger at him. “you try being stuck inside with your hot roommate!”

“trust me, y/n, i know all about hot roommates.”

you tilt your head, acting purposefully oblivious. “are you talking about doyoung?”

“what? no i—“ he sighs. “you know what, just take your shower.”

   6.    you can’t say no to him.

jeno ruffles his black locks with his hand and frowns.

you give him a disappointed look. “knock it off, you’re gonna get dandruff in your soup.”

he ignores your comment. “i look like a hobo.”

you pause, spoon halfway to your mouth. “this i know.”

“y/n, this is serious!”

“okay, okay. what’s the issue?”

“i already told you! i’m a bum!”

“you? a bum?” you pause to think about it. “i mean, mentally? maybe. but physically? no.”

“my hair, though. it’s so long.” he grabs a strand of it and pulls it to emphasize his point.

you shrug. “if having lots of hair is the standard for being a bum, i think most of the population is.”

“i want to cut it,” he announces.

“you should,” you say, pointing your spoon at him. “wanna know why? because if you mess up, no one will ever know. other than me, of course. but if you pay me enough i’ll let you forget it.”

he smiles at the joke for a moment before he leans forward and his face goes serious. “will you help me?”

“what? no way. i’ll mess up. and it’s only funny if you do it.”

he pouts. “please?”

you stir your soup around. “just watch some youtube videos. after three, you’re automatically a professional.”

“i want you.”

the statement has your neck snapping up from your bowl to him. the smug grin on his face lets you know that he was well aware of the double meaning behind his words. it was clear he was trying to fluster you enough to get a yes.

“you think you’re flirty enough to straight up brainwash me into doing stuff?”

“well, i wanted to say that to you anyway but... kind of?”

you feel a smile creep onto your lips at hearing the genuine tone in his voice. you down your last few spoonfuls of soup and quickly stand up. jeno looks up at you, eyes hopeful.

“finish your dinner. get the scissors. meet me in the bathroom.”

not even ten minutes later, jeno practically dances into the bathroom, a pair of red craft scissors in his hand. he sits on top of the toilet lid, figuring that’d be the easiest way for you to reach him. you walk in moments later.

“i’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be using these types of scissors for hair,” he mumbles as he hands you the sharp utensil.

you twirl them in your hand. “oh, definitely not. do you want to wait then?”

he shakes his head, his shaggy bangs swaying with the movement.  

“alright, let’s get this going then.” you thread your hands through his thick locks to collect some of it in between two of your fingers. you bring the scissors forward and snip the small amount just to test the waters.

you slowly begin to get more comfortable and once you feel like you’re in your element, things begin to speed up. you move and cut faster but with efficiency. you do the spots on the back of his head and work your way forward. when it finally comes time to touch up his bangs, your small bathroom proves to be an inadequate spot to be doing this.

you end up standing balanced inches above jeno’s thighs that he’s pressed together tightly in an attempt to give you more room. you’re constantly readjusting your stance and when he notices, his hands go to your hips. you know he’s just trying to help you stay upright so you do a decent job but you still inhale sharply at the feeling of his hands on you.

not long after, you’re standing next to jeno as he inspects himself in the mirror. his fingers flick his newly shortened bangs around.

“not bad.” he tilts his head in a new angle and nods. “looks super good to me.”

you tuck the scissors into your back pocket with a relieved sigh. “oh thank god. i didn’t want to tell you before we started but i only watched two youtube tutorials on trimming hair.”

he runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “now that’s truly worthy of praise. and a tip.”

you raise a brow. “oh yeah? what’s th—“

he cuts you off by pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. he pulls back and drags his thumb over the skin that has come into contact with his lips. “thanks again.” with that, he leaves you standing in the bathroom, eyes wide and face warm.

   7.    he has six best friends.

“can i borrow your laptop?” asks jeno, from outside your door, nearly breathless.

you look up from your book. “uh yeah, sure.”

he rushes in your room and takes the item off of your dresser. “do you happen to have zoom on it?”

you shake your head and he groans. without another word, he disappears, running off into the living room. you hear his frustrated sighs as the minutes pass and he attempts to download the application. you finally decide to go check it out once it becomes too much to bear.

“it sounds like you’re in pain over here,” you comment.

he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m supposed to meet with my friends through a zoom call but it’s so complicated.”

you put a hand on your hip. “bet you five bucks i’ll be able to get it in five minutes.”

“are you kidding? i might be technologically challenged but i’m not stupid. i know you can do it fast, just help me out already, would you?”

“alright, grandpa.”

you type and click away at the screen, jeno watching you do so, entranced but equally as lost.

“well, i was wrong,” you say after a couple moments, leaning back in your chair.

“you couldn’t get it?” asks jeno, worriedly.

“no, it’s not that.” you click something on the screen and the app opens. “turns out i could do it in three.”

he rolls his eyes and shoos you out of the chair. he sits down and enters the code and password for the zoom meeting. it takes a minute, but he finally connects. you count six other people in the call. they all immediately cheer at seeing jeno and you hear them excitedly exclaim his name.

“hey guys,” he says, a smile already reaching his eyes. “it’s so good to see your faces.”

they all nod to agree. you get a good look at each one of them and realize they’re all boys. your eyes read over each of their display names.

mark me in ur heart

hyuckie~~~

moomin enthusiast

nananananana

chnele

lil huddy

“nice name, jeno,” ‘moomin enthusiast’ guy comments, snickering slightly. “glad to see you finally came to terms with it.”

‘jenojam’, his name reads. the rest of the group laughs, also teasing him about it. you assume it’s some kind of inside joke.

the self proclaimed ‘lil huddy’ furrows his eyebrows. “wait, did you choose that name yourself?”

jeno simply nods in response.

he glares into the camera. “donghyuck, you told me i had to put this as my name or else it wouldn’t let me connect!”

donghyuck—or ‘hyuckie~~~’, you presume—shrugs. “oops. guess i was wrong.”

you laugh at the humorous exchange. it seems like the sound has drawn some attention to you when ‘nananananana’ speaks up, eyes trained on you.

“um jeno? don’t you want to introduce your guest?”

jeno beams, dragging you closer into the frame. “i’m sure you all know about my roommate. say hi, y/n.” 

you do so, waving and smiling politely at the group.

“you know, even though we used to always hang at jeno’s, i don’t think we’ve ever actually seen your face,” ‘chnele’ says, tilting his head.

you agree. “me neither. i’ve mostly just heard you guys.”

the ‘mark me in your heart’ boy sheepishly rubs his neck. “sorry. we tend to be a little loud.”

‘chnele’ lets out a high pitched screech of a laugh. “only a little?”

“i recognize that laugh!” you blurt. “i would hear it all the time!”

”that’s our little dolphin,” coos ‘hyuckie~~~’.

“oh god, stop. i hate that stupid nickname.”

“it’s well deserved.”

“i think you should apologize to y/n for being a nightmare to her eardrums.”

“and ours, for that matter.”

“what about all your little freestyles? i’ve had to sit through hundreds of them and i never got an apology!”

“because they’re not bad! could you do any better?”

“you’re a soundcloud rapper, i think anyone could.”

jeno turns to you as the bickering on screen gets louder and louder. “this is gonna be a long call.”

once the group has moved on from roasting the life out of each other, you’re able to engage in some good-natured conversation. jeno teaches you the names and the other basics about the group. some points that stand out about the group is that mark is the oldest, renjun specializes in contemporary dance, jaemin inhales six cups of coffee on the daily, and chenle is insanely rich.

“what about jeno?” you ask them. “anything i should know about him?”

“he’s allergic to cats but the idiot still adopted—“

“she already knows about that, renjun,” jeno chuckles.

“oh. well. that’s pretty much the only interesting thing about him.”

jisung pipes up. “oh wait! he works out religiously too!”

you and jeno share a look. you burst into laughter and he simply glances away, slightly embarrassed. “oh yeah, i know that all too well.”

“and what about the unhealthy cooking obsession?”

you nod at mark’s question. “that too. he cooks dinner almost every night around here.”

renjun purses his lips. “he already cooks for you? wow. he must really like you.”

“you think?” jaemin asks. “didn’t you read any of the messages in the group chat? he’s practically in love with her. his words, not mi—“

“okay! i think it’s time for us to go! bye guys!” jeno doesn’t even give you a chance to say your own goodbye before he’s clicking the ‘end call’ button in the bottom right corner.

you give him a confused look. “what was that all about?”

“they’re crazy.” he laughs. “well, if you need me i’ll be in my room screaming into my pillow for the next couple hours.” he dashes off leaving you standing alone, trying to comprehend what had happened.

   8.    he‘s a great listener.

jeno has officially replaced seol as your movie buddy, not that you have a problem with it. you thought it was nice to have someone you could actually converse with but of course, you make sure seol still sits in.

“what i’m saying is that iron man just wants to protect his team.”

“well, if they sign the accords, they basically surrender themselves to the government.”

“and?”

“you don’t see a problem with that? see, captain america knows what he’s doing. he’s literally an avenger—“

“so is iron man!”

“let me finish! so, he’s an avenger, right? he has the best judgment because he’s saved the world countless times. he knows how to operate his team and do the right thing.”

“okay but there’s casualties. and that’s what iron man is trying to fix.”

“how do you save the world and not have casualties?”

“you just—“ your phone rings mid argument and you raise your finger towards jeno. “this isn’t over.” you put the phone to your ear, not bothering to check the caller id. “hello?”

“sweetheart?”

you feel a chill go up your spine. was it him? no, it couldn’t be. you had blocked his number shortly after you did so on all your social media.

“baby, don’t be so shy. i know you’re there.”

you can’t hold back. “please don’t call me that.”

he chuckles, breathlessly. “oh, c’mon. you used to love it. you still do.”

“no, i don’t. actually, i don’t want to hear your stupid pet names or stupid voice or see any of your stupid posts. just go bother your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

you notice jeno perk up beside you out of the corner of your eye. he must have been caught off guard by your irritated tone.

as always, lucas is unaffected by you. “i’m being nice and giving you a second chance. i even called you behind soyeon’s back.”

“is that something i’m supposed to reward you for?” you scoff. “congratulations, you’re now awful, toxic, and a cheater.”

he growls. the sound was familiar. in your relationship, if you heard it you knew he was going to snap at you until he had the satisfaction of making you cry. “i know you miss me so don’t say things you’re going to regret later. because even when you’re back in my arms, i won’t let you forget it.”

the thought of being back with him made you feel icky. but the fact that he sincerely thought you would crawl back to him set your entire body on fire. “are you joking? i was always aware of the fact that you treated me like the dirt you walked on but do you seriously think that lowly of me?”

you’re rendered speechless and apparently, so is he because the other line stays silent.

“i wouldn’t go back to you if you were the last person on earth,” you spit. “you treated me horribly, wong yukhei. i won’t ever forget it. move on. i have.”

you glance at jeno, his expression more serious than you’ve ever seen it. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are trained on your cellphone. the glare he gives the device is so strong you wouldn’t be surprised if even lucas could feel it, wherever he was.

you hang up and block the number, wishing to never talk to him again. you toss your phone onto the sofa with an exasperated sigh. you find jeno’s gaze to still be focused intensely on it.  

“if you gave lucas that look, i’m pretty sure he’d cry.”

he breaks his concentration, eyes going to you instead. his entire face softens. “all i’m going to say is he better pray we never cross paths.”

“well, if you happen to, call me up. i wouldn’t mind helping you beat the crap out of him.”

jeno chuckles for a second then lowers his voice to a whisper. “he was really bad to you, huh?”

you nod. “he messed me up. i hate to admit it ‘cause i know i was stupid to stay with him for as long as i did.”

your roommate shakes his head. “don’t say that. it’s not your fault he messed up the best thing that would ever happen to him.”

“i thought i was the problem for so long, jeno. i was so blinded by love. then, i realized there was no way he truly cared for me when he treated me like i had no heart to be broken.”

jeno scoots towards you and rubs soothing circles into your arm. “you have such a big heart. and i can’t tell you how sorry i am that he took advantage of that. i’m sorry that you were stuck with someone so insecure and ignorant. please, don’t think about him anymore.”

you hold in your tears. you refused to cry over someone like lucas. “i know. i try so hard not to.”

jeno holds your head into his chest. his arms are placed securely on your back. “oh, baby.”

when jeno uses this pet name on you, it feels so completely different from lucas. you could tell me meant it. he wasn’t using it to make you stay a little longer, to assure you he loved you. strangely enough, you do not need to be convinced of that. you feel like you have known it for a long time.  

   9.    he likes to be the big spoon.

you’re not sure how he’s done it but you end up falling asleep in jeno’s arms. you assume it had been so long since you had been cradled and rocked so delicately that the foreign yet extremely delightful sensation knocked you right out. even seol is deep in sleep, laying down peacefully at your feet.  

you relish in the feeling of jeno pressed right into your back. he fits so perfectly against you that it reminds you of a puzzle piece. to be exact, the moment when you connect the last two pieces and the full picture becomes complete. that was how you felt—complete.

with jeno’s soft breaths tickling the back of your neck and his soft snores filling your ear, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. his arm that is wrapped around you makes sure you can’t escape his embrace. you are positive that even if you had the liberty of doing so, you would stay exactly where you were.

you lean farther back into your pillow, closing your eyes. you let every thought fade away as you try to fall back asleep as soon as possible. you wanted the moment you found yourself in to last as long as possible.

   10.    he has feelings for you.

jeno mumbles sweet nothings into your ear as he toys with your hair.

it just seemed right to him. like something he was meant to do with you. he had seen these types of things in films and shows before. it was intimate and touching, the scenes were always meant to tug at the audience’s heart strings and show how in love the two characters were. perhaps, even though you lay asleep in his arms, he wants you to finally know.

“honestly, being inside with you all the time is kind of the best. i know the whole virus situation is less than ideal but being able to spend so much time with you... that’s all i could ask for.” he pauses. “isn’t it so crazy how before this we were all weird and awkward around each other? well, i guess we still kind of are. that’s mostly my fault so... sorry. i just don’t know how to act around you sometimes. we’re barely getting close and i’m already this attached to you. as jisung would so kindly say, ‘i’m simping’.” he chuckles to himself. “all jokes aside, i really do like you. ever since you moved in here all cute and nervous, you’ve taken your own little place in my heart, as cheesy as it sounds. and these past few weeks, you just keep on taking up more and more room in there. not that i have a problem with it. i just...” he stops as if he doesn’t know how else to express his feelings. “really, really like you.”

“thanks.”

you feel him jolt then abruptly stop stroking your hair. there’s silence until he asks, “you don’t happen to be a sleep talker, do you?”

you shake your head.

“and did you hear like, a lot of what i said?”

“only the important stuff. like how awkward you are and how much you like me.”

“o-oh.”

“but don’t worry. it’s mutual.”

you feel his relieved breath hit the skin of your neck. “that’s the best thing i’ve heard all day.”

you tilt your head back and stare at him, confused. “what, did you seriously think i wasn’t into you?”

he shrugs. “i was too busy simping, i guess.”

you can’t contain your laughter at the use of the slang. “park jisung would not be proud.”   

[suchalonelysunflower]

Tell Me What You’re Thinking (c.h)

Pairing: Calum Hood x Fem! Reader

Summary: You overhear something you shouldn’t hear. But Calum will make it right, won’t he?

Warnings: ANGST. Language (including insults), mentions of alcohol, drugs and cheating. MC with low self esteem. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 4 k

Author’s Note: hi I’m back with the angsty shit. This is very self indulgent, and I put Mitchy as a bad guy here, so sorry if you like him? Reblogs, Commets, Feedback and likes are very welcomed and encouraged! I love to hear from you guys ❤️ hope you like it and Happy Reading ✨🦋🌻

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

You sighed as you finished your last paper. It was finals week and you were officially done with your exams and term papers for the semester. The last couple of weeks were rough and no one knew that more than you and your boyfriend Calum who has been by your side through this whole stressing process.

You smiled to yourself as you remembered the encouraging words that Calum often said to you. He knew how hard you worked in school and at your part time job in a law firm, and you appreciated how much he cared for you in times of stress and frustrations. Always cheering you up from the bleechers as you made a name for yourself.

Calum promised that once you were done with school for the semester, he was going to take you out on a well deserved Holiday, just the two of you and Duke as you celebrated another six months worth of work done. Everything was already planned for the next weekend and you couldn’t wait.

You reread your final essay one more time and decided that it was enough for today and if there were any mistakes left, then you’ll deal with them tomorrow. Now the only thing in your mind was a cozy blanket and a feel good movie. But first, you needed to get some food and drinks for your mini celebratory self care session.

The thought of asking Calum to come join you crossed your mind, but you quickly remembered that tonight was boys night. Every couple of weeks Calum and his friends have a little night out to catch up and decompress all of the stress of the week. Tonight was Calum’s turn to host boys night as they decided to have a quiet night in, so they must be having a good time downstairs and you didn’t want to ruin the mood.

With that thought in mind, you carefully placed your laptop on Calum’s side of the bed and carefully untangled your legs from under the covers so you wouldn't wake up Duke, who snuggled with you every time you had to work to keep you company. You put on one of Calum’s hoodies and headed downstairs trying your best to not make any sound.

Before you even reached the last step of the stairs, you could already hear your boyfriend’s laugh and it made your heart flutter. Even after almost three years of being together, his laugh still gives you butterflies every time you hear it, falling even more in love than what is possible.

Once you were in the kitchen, you started looking into the cupboards as you searched for your favorite snacks, but in the end you were unable to find any, thinking that maybe Calum has hidden them somewhere on the top shelves where he knows you can’t reach.

Letting out a small huff, you debated with yourself the option of climbing up the counter or admitting defeat and go ask your boyfriend for some help. Luckily, you didn’t have to decide as you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite scholar” Said Ashton with a light chuckle “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be out tonight since it’s boys night”

You smiled as you let him wrap his arms around you to give you a hug. Ashton was the first friend you made when you moved to LA a couple of years back, he was the one who introduced you to Calum in the first place, and you were very thankful for having him as a best friend.

“I had to finish up some term papers, so I had to reschedule my girl’s night for tomorrow” You explained to the black haired man “And what are you doing here? Need a refill?” You ask, pointing to the empty glass he was holding.

Ashton nodded, “Yeah, but I also needed a time out. Mitchy is kinda being very obnoxious today” He said with a sigh.

Mitchy Collins was a close friend with the boys for many years now, but you can’t say that he is a friend of yours. It’s not like you haven’t tried to befriend the singer, on the contrary, you both had multiple chances to get to know each other but he either ignored you or made things very awkward between you. And, to be honest, you were not that excited to become his friend either. There was something weird about him, a bad vibe per se, that made you not trust him at all. He was always very loud, obnoxious and downright rude sometimes and it made you very uncomfortable. Both Calum and Ashton knew about your uneasiness with Mitchy, so they didn’t push it too far and you were thankful for that.

“Oh?” You asked, trying to mask your discomfort “What is he saying this time?”

“Just a bunch of bullshit, to be honest. He is very high right now and thinks he’s above everyone else” Ashton said, taking a seat on one of the kitchen island stools. You did the same as you offered him a glass of water.

“Are you high right now?” You chuckled.

“Nope. Calum and I decided to stay clean tonight cause tomorrow we start early in the studio and the weed kinda messes up our pipes” He explains.

“What about Luke and Mikey?”

“They are not here yet, they said they needed to finish up something for a song and then they will meet us here” Ashton shrugged, not giving it too much importance “And what about you, darling? How was your day?”

You began to tell Ashton about how you finally finished the semester and how excited you were for your little getaway with Calum next week. However, every couple of minutes you were interrupted by a loud laugh or an obnoxious comment coming from the living room where the rest of the boys were sitting. Sometimes their loud comments started loud conversations that neither of you could help but overhear, but you did your best to ignore them. But some things are easier said than done.

“I’m telling you man! You can do so much better” You heard Mitchy’s voice echoing through the house, followed by a chuckle from Calum who mumbled something among the lines of “Fuck off”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stopped the conversation you had with Ashton in order to pay attention to what was being said down the hall. You looked at Ash with a confused face, wondering what they could be saying but at the same time not knowing if you should continue listening to their private affairs. You were about to open up your mouth to continue what you were saying until another comment made by Mitchy caught your attention.

“You have to admit she is the worst sometimes. All she does is boss you around like you are some kind of puppet. She is the definition of annoying”

You sat up straight as you looked at Ashton, who mirrored your puzzled expression.

“Is- is he talking about me?” You asked in a whisper.

Ashton shook his head “I don’t thi-”

“I swear! What does she even do besides work and study all the time? She barely has time for you. You said it yourself! And when she’s not doing any of those things? She’s nagging around and clinging to you like you’re a damn purse! That’s who Y/N is”

You froze in the spot. So they were talking about you… and did Calum really say you don’t have time for him? You don’t even get time to yourself and he knows that! He said he was okay with it, that he understood and supported you through and through… Guess not.

“I still don’t know what you saw in her, dude. She’s just plain boring, playing to be a good girl when in reality she has zero personality” He continued his rant “She does nothing for you! Honestly! I’m surprised you made it this far with that bitch”

You knew that wasn’t true. He never really made an effort to get to know you! how could he be saying all those stuff? You did everything for Calum, all your goals, your plans are for the both of you. How could he know that if he never really talked to you? But you had to admit that that first comment really hurt. You were always doubting yourself at the beginning of your relationship with Calum, always feeling like you weren’t good enough, or pretty enough, or smart or fun or hot… To fight off those kinds of feelings was a difficult job to say the least, but Calum was always there to fight them with you, reassuring you that he loved you. He loved every part of you and he will love you forever.

“Is she at least a decent fuck? Cause I don’t see her doing anything remotely interesting in bed” Mitchy laughed “If she’s not she’s just wasting your time”

You noticed how Ashton suddenly stiffened next to you when he heard Mitchy’s comments. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his fists at the side of his body “Okay, that’s enough” But you were quicker, grabbing onto his shirt as a sign to make him stay there with you and not cause a scene.

His eyes found yours and you could see the anger build up on them, you knew that he would defend you no matter what and you loved him for that. But you knew Calum would defend you over there, he wouldn't let him talk about you that way.

“Ash, please” You pleaded, tugging on his shirt for him to take a seat again. But he preferred to stay standing next to you, almost like guarding and shielding you from any other comment that might hurt your feelings.

“I can’t let him talk about you like that!” He hissed. But you just shook your head.

“I know, Ash. I know. But Cal will handle it” You said confidently, trying to keep yourself together.

You knew Calum would not let those comments slide. Even if you weren’t in the room with him, those comments were awful and very hurtful, no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by someone as close as a friend of his.

You waited for his intervention, but your heart crushed when the only thing you heard from him were laughs.

“She’s a good fuck” That’s all he said.

The grip you had on Ashton’s shirt suddenly flattered as you fought the lump in your throat “Y-you said he wasn’t high” You whispered to Ashton, who was just as frozen as you were after hearing his best mate’s comment.

“He’s not” He said, standing tall next to you. As much as he wanted to go in there and give the guys an earful, he knew you needed him here with you.

Out of all the things Mitchy has said, out of all the insults and belitments, that’s what he says? That you’re a good fuck?

You knew that you could be annoying sometimes when you got happy. You just wanted to share that happiness with everyone around you and you thought… you thought that Calum liked that. You were not a bad girlfriend, you always tried your best to make him as happy as he makes you; to love him as much as he loves you, cause he loves you. Doesn’t he?

If he loves you then why is he letting his friend say all of this stuff about you? Why is he not saying anything? Does- does he agree with him?

The tears started rolling silently, half of you not believing what you were hearing while the other half clang to the idea of Calum defending you at some point.

“Oh I know!” Said Mitchy after a while “I can introduce you to someone! Right now, actually. Her name’s Vanessa and she’s crazy hot, dude”

He can’t be serious.

Ashton looked at you with pleading, furious eyes. Almost begging you to go and let him deal with them. But you grabbed his hand and made him stay. This has to be it. This has to be the chance for Calum to say something.

“You’re kidding right?” The curly haired man asked. Making you let out a breath of relief.

“Not at all! Think about it. We go, you meet her, you fuck her and done!” He said like it was nothing “Y/N will never find out cause she’s stuck up her ass. Your fans will never know or they won’t care cause they don’t even know you are in a ”relationship” to begin with! You are single to their eyes. And you get a decent fuck from someone who looks the part and knows how to have fun! It’s a win - win!”

Your heart stopped as you waited for Calum to answer. To tell Mitchy to go fuck himself. To tell him that he loves you and would never do that to you.

“I don’t know, man. I’ll think about it” Calum shrugged “Plus, if we go out I’ll have to tell Y/N. She’s upstairs finishing some shit for her university”

“Fucking hell… see! I told you! A stuck up bitch” Mitchy said, making Calum laugh.

But their laughs and the rest of the conversation grew numb to your ears. Your body trembled as the tears came flooding in, holding in the sobs that were tearing up your throat. How could he? He was really thinking of cheating on you.

You could feel every little piece of your heart shattered as you search for some kind of leverage that could hold you still so you don’t fall and break. You felt ill, disgusted and heartbroken.

As you tried to get up, you felt your knees buckle and almost fell to the ground if it weren’t for Ashton holding you up. He was still there and you knew by the look in his eyes that he was not going anywhere.

He was just as disgusted and angry as you. He couldn’t believe all the things that were said tonight, all the things that Calum failed to make it right and hurt you in the process. He knew that if he were in that room that the conversation would’ve died the moment it started. He would never let them talk about you that way.

“I-I can’t-“ You cried, moments away from hyperventilating “I can’t stay here, Ash”

He nodded, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head for reassurance “Go upstairs, love. Grab your stuff and we’re getting out of here. You’re staying with me tonight, okay?” Ashton let go of you and started walking towards the living room where the rest of the guys were still talking.

“Ash” You called, making him turn around “D-don’t make a scene, please”

He sighed as he muttered a quiet “okay” before turning around, leaving you alone as you went upstairs to grab the bare necessities to spend the night, you’ll figure out the rest later. Right now you just needed to get out of here.

You opened the bedroom door and almost collapsed at the entrance. Duke came running towards you, sensing that there was something wrong as he started to whine and tried to jump into your arms. That only made you cry harder as you realized that you were leaving him too. You fell to the floor and patted the puppy as he tried to wipe off your tears with his tongue, breaking your heart even more.

A loud voice cut you out of your thoughts. You could hear Ashton yelling, although you couldn’t exactly figure out what he was saying. This meant that Calum knew you heard everything and that, if he had at least some decency left in him, he would come and get you. You needed to act fast.

You stood up and grabbed the first big bag that you could find. Inside of it you threw your laptop, your books, your charger, some clothes and some bathroom essentials. You debated on whether or not to take with you a picture of you, Calum and Duke… it was your favorite memory with them. But the damage was stronger than the nostalgia, so you threw that picture to the ground before you left the room that once belonged to you.

You were running down the stairs when you passed Calum running up them. You ignored him as he stopped in his tracks and followed you to the hall.

“Y/N!” He said, desperate to try and stop you “Y/N, baby, please! Hear me out!”

“Hear what?! I already heard enough!” You said as you turned around.

Calum’s face was almost unrecognizable. The fear in his eyes, the desperation in his voice and his close off body language was not something you’d normally see in him. The “I fucked up” expression showed all the regret in the world, yet you didn’t seem to care at the moment.

“I. Heard. All of it, Calum” You cried through gritted teeth, anger boiling inside of you as you stared at the man you thought you’d marry “All of it and not once did I hear you say something to try and defend me. How do you think that made me feel?!”

“Baby-“ He tried, but you cut him off.

“I work my ass off all day and night for you, for us. For me to go and see you on tour like you ask me to, knowing damn well I would go to the ends of this fucking earth for you! Catching up extra classes and shifts so I can go with you. I cancel everything to be with you. I gave up everything for us to be together. I barely even have time for myself as I try my best to be something worthy of you!” Your tears were staining your face, but you pushed away the pain for a moment, knowing that once you break down it’s over “I try my best to be a good girlfriend, a good friend! I loved you with all my heart and this is what I get after almost three years? A good fuck? That 's it?”

Calum’s world fell to the floor as he tried hard to fight off the lump in his throat, whispering in a broken voice “Loved?”

“That’s all you get from it?” You ask defeated “Calum I would’ve never let my friends call you names, insult you or offend you in any way. I would’ve gone to the ends of the world for you, defended you till the day I die. All because I trusted you to do the same for me and you failed me, Calum. You broke me. You let him call me a bitch, a stuck up, worthless, stupid, bossy, annoying… should I go on? Cause those words are now printed in my memory, next to you agreeing to all of those things. Is that what you think of me?”

“Baby, I swear it’s not like that!” He said, grabbing your hand and trying to make you stay “I fucked up! I know! You are right, I failed you and you don’t know how much I hate myself for it! But please, love. You know I could never think of you like that… you are the most wonderful person there is! You are kind, smart, loving, beautiful-“

“Did you cheat on me?” You ask bluntly.

“What?”

“Did you cheat on me?”

“No!” Calum said instantly “No, I would never!”

You nodded “Yet, you thought of it.”

Calum opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off again “Is that why you never made our relationship public? So you could have a free pass whenever you want to? Cause I thought it was to protect our privacy, for us to have a normal life in the midst of the chaos that is to date a celebrity. When you told all of that I thought “wow, this is a guy with integrity and with values” Yet I don’t know what to believe now. I thought you loved me-“

“I do love you-“

“I thought you loved me” You said, the tears were already dry as the anger came flooding in “But you don’t hurt the people you love. You don’t break them like you did to me. You don’t let anyone hurt them, even if they are not in the room with you. And you don’t cheat on them like you were going to tonight with that girl Vanessa while I waited here like an idiot for you to come home and spend some time with me”

You pull your hand out of his grasp, holding onto your bag as you heard Calum cry “Y/N-“

“You are free to do whatever you want now, Calum. Cause to the eyes of your fans you are single, and I am as well”

You turned around and saw Ashton waiting by the door with his keys in his hand. He opened up the door for you as you walked by, ignoring all of Calum’s pleads for you to stay.

“So you are just going to leave?!” He yelled, not knowing what else to do. “Whe- Where are you taking her Ashton?”

The black haired man made sure that you were already sitting in his car before turning around to face his friend “I’m taking here with me and away from you cause that’s what she needs now. So don’t bother calling or showing up cause you are not welcome right now. And don’t even try to call Luke or Michael cause they already know and we won’t support you on this” Ashton said as calm as he could. He already told him off, but the anger of seeing you cry in front of him still resided in him.

“I- I love her , Ash! You can’t just take her away from me. I’m her boyfriend!”

“Correction, you were her boyfriend. And I can take her away and I will cause she asked me to” He said taking an intimidating step closer to Calum “Cause while you were here talking trash about her behind her back, planning on how to cheat on her. I was back there, holding her while she broke down crying cause she couldn’t believe that her boyfriend didn’t stand up for her and let a fucking stranger insult her all night long! You weren’t there to see her eyes water or her lip tremble. You weren’t there when she begged me with tears in her eyes to not make a scene cause all she wanted to do was to get out of here. She is the most amazing person ever, she is a light in all of our lives and you extinguished her without a second thought. You might be my friend, but she is too and I love her and I will defend her no matter what, she doesn’t deserve this kind of crap you just showed to her. So don’t count on me to try and help you get her back, I won’t blame her if she doesn’t”

Calum felt small as Ashton walked away from him, closing the door with a bang and leaving him all alone in his big house. Well, almost.

“Dude, that was intense” Mitchy laughed as he placed a hand on Calum’s shoulder “So, wanna go now?”

A blind rage fell over Calum as he heard the mocking laughs of his so-called friend, acting like his life just didn’t fall apart in front of him.

Calum grabbed the singer by the neck of his shirt and pushed him forcefully against the wall “You are going to get out of my house and never come back. You hear me?!” He yelled to his face, almost letting out steam from his nostrils as he was sure he could kill him right now.

“Dude, what’s wrong with yo-“

Calum quickly grabbed a bottle from his nearby mini bar, suddenly gaining all the courage he should’ve had hours ago, and throwed it to Mitchy’s feet, making him jump “Get the fuck out!” He yelled, grabbing bottle after bottle, glass after glass and throwing them into the ground “OUT!”

Only when the last bottle was smashed into pieces did he realize he was completely alone.

And only then did he allow himself to cry for the loss of the love of his life, walking away from him and leaving him to pick up the pieces of two broken hearts.

part 2

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232

[inlovewithhisblueeyes]

Stuck in Your Head

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: ~2.7K

Warnings: Descriptive Depressive Episode and Discussions about Prescription Medications (specifically missing doses and having side effects)

A/N: This is my first time writing RPF so I decided to stick with something I know well. I substituted my own best friend’s name in so I didn’t have to deal with the pesky acronyms cluttering the story. 

Buried underneath the covers, you were safe even though sleep continued to elude you. The chill of the morning was unable to pierce the walls of your blanket fortress. While the soft pitter-pattering of rain on your window would normally be able to lull you to dreamland, you were left to watch the rise and fall of the fabric.

Early daylight had danced its way across the room a millennia ago. No matter how deep you burrowed into your little nest, the light would seep through. So you tucked your head underneath your pillow and fought the urge to continuously check your phone. Watching time tick past would only make these growing frustrations and anxieties worse.

You remained curled up with your knees close to your chest, willing your hands to stop their shaking. All those exercises you had been taught in therapy seemed fruitless. Nothing could alleviate this numbness that had settled in your bones. Time continued to pass as you laid there, only daring to leave your bed’s warm embrace when your bladder was screaming in agony.

The spot where you laid never had to the time to cool. You were always sucked right back to it in record time like every episode before. Brain fog would cause the same thing every time. The days would seem to just blend into one another, a cycle of light and shadows that would chase each other around the ceiling. You would have no idea if you took your meds, what day it was, or even the last time you ate. Time would be nonexistent in your little blanketed world.

A soft vzzzzt came from outside your safe zone. Moving your hand slightly, you could just barely feel the vibrations of your phone. You paused as you tried to decide if you had enough energy to answer. It was most likely unimportant, another robocall about some silly matter. Sighing heavily, you drew your hand back to its previous position.

Silence fell over the room once more and you breathed a sigh of relief. You forced your eyes shut in hopes that you could finally sleep. Not more than a few moments passed before the quiet was broken yet again. The soft vzzzzt returned, requiring you to begrudgingly open your eyes. You hissed as you slowly rolled over, just enough to reach over and drag your phone under the covers with you.

You flipped your phone over as your best friend’s face filled up the screen. You know you should answer it, but you didn’t want to worry her. Ariel has enough going on without you dragging her into your shit. You quickly shot off one of those automated responses saying you’re busy and you’ll call back later before declining the call.

Carefully shoving your phone back out from under your blanket pile, you tried once more to adjust and get comfy. Finally, it seemed that the sleep you craved is upon you. You yawned before nestling your head deeper into your pillow and letting your eyes fall shut.

You woke up sometime later and noticed that the bedroom is almost completely dark. You dare to glance at your phone and it’s only 6 pm. Stiff limbs quickly made themselves known as you tried to stretch. They crack and pop as you finally moved them, each crying out desperately for motion.

Slowly you sit up and allow yourself to slip out from your burrito. Every movement feels as if you’re wading through an endless pool of molasses. You rise to feet carefully and your knees buckle as they wake up to support you. Ambling towards the kitchen, you tried to scrounge up the desire for anything other than a few mints.

Your pickings are rather slim. Even then everything would take longer than you know you have the energy to stand for. Huffing as you grabbed handful of mints before you make your back to bed. You crawled back into bed, grabbing your laptop in hopes you can find someway to pass the next round of sleepless.

Popping a mint in your mouth and scrolling through the various entertainment options, you happened across a show you know very well. Another time you might have smiled at your luck. Of course it recommends something that he was in. Rolling over to grab your phone, you unlock it to check what time it is over there.

2 am the clock answered. You swallowed the lump in your throat, remembering what he said last time.

“I don’t care what time it is. If you need me, call. I’d do anything for you. “

You glance at the clock once more and you lose your nerve.

“He’s halfway across the world right now and under enough stress. You’ll talk to him again when Friday comes around” you rationalize internally, “That’s more than 3 days away. You’ll be back to your usual by then. You always are.”

You shake your head and push the phone off the bed. Tucking an arm under your head and curling your knees to your chest, placing your laptop on top of them. You settle in with Forensic Files, hoping that Peter Thomas’s voice will eventually get you more sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come. You’ve lost count of how many episodes of Forensic Files that you’ve watched. All of them have blurred together. Once again the sun’s rays slowly painted your room in an array of reds, oranges, and finally yellows. Two more rounds of soft vzzzzt that go unanswered cause you to retreat back under the blankets once more.

For how long you remain there is unknown. All you known is that you’re forced to get up by your throbbing bladder. Then you’re back in your bed, curled up around a pillow and begging for sleep to come. Your body is sore, your mind is all fogged up, and by the time you do feel sleepy, the sun must be high in the sky.

Here's to another day of waking up after the sun has set. Daylight Savings Time is a bitch. There’s no use in checking your phone. You stretched and tried to sum up the strength to move your feet, knowing you need to at least try to make your way to the kitchen. Each step causes a shooting pain in your underused appendages.

Leaning against the counter, you grabbed a package of Cup Ramen from the cabinet. Not the healthiest choice, but the one that will take the shortest amount of time to cook. Adding the water and setting it in the microwave is the easiest part; having the strength to wait the 3 minutes to cook is the hardest.

Anxiety seeps in as you watched the timer go down. Tapping your fingers against your thigh, you tried to pass the time without throwing yourself into an anxiety attack. Finally, the microwave beeps and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You opened the microwave and quickly stirred the contents of the cup together.

You make the trip back to the bed that’s been calling your name since you left. Although you’re not hungry, you have to try to eat. You ate earlier right?....Your stomach hadn’t give any indication of hunger. You ate as much as you could stomach before leaving the unfinished meal beside your bed.

Grabbing your laptop, you scrolled through for something, anything to distract you. In a moment of clarity, you remembered that last time he mentioned a nature documentary which he said you should watch. You found it easily and turned it on, curling your body around your laptop. In your bones, the numbness reared it’s ugly head once more.

The animals in documentary didn’t cause you to laugh at their antics like they usually would. You had to pause it. You felt like you were drowning in this void. What once might have been enough to drag you out of the darkness, no longer could do so. You had been doing so well; going to your appointments and working on coping with your trauma only for the empty pit to gobble you up once more.

Screwing your eyes shut as you take in one shaky breath after the other. Whatever strength that was left in your tired limbs, you willed to help get you through. You needed to be fine, he needed you to be fine. Every inch of you shook with hurt and sorrow as sleep waded in and out of your mind. It took forever to succumb.

A gentle chime woke you from your fitful sleep. You laid underneath your mountain of blankets and watched the gentle rise and fall that came with every breath you took. You blinked a few times as you attempted to stretch out your body. The chime had stopped by the time you were finally able to peak your head from where it was tangled in your cocoon.

The noise had emanated from your laptop. You inwardly curses yourself because you only know what that means. You left yourself logged into Skype and you reached a hand over to check who called. However, as soon as you did, the chime started up again, his name flashed on your screen.

A sob threatened to break loose from your lips.  It couldn’t have been Friday already. Skype dates only happened on Friday and Saturdays, that was your routine. You glanced around your room and contemplated slamming your laptop closed. Based on the colors of the sun that painted your bedroom’s walls, it was early, much too early for his call.

Deep down you knew he would keep calling until you responded and as much as it pained you to do so, you had to give into him. You moved the cursor to hover over the accept button. With a deep breath, you clicked accept. You waited for the swoosh that always came before his face filled the screen.

You couldn’t face him like this. He didn’t deserve this. Your stomach was already upset, it didn’t need your anxiety making it worse. Burying your face in your hands, you heard the tell-tale noise that the call connected.

“Darling, there you are,” he exclaimed.

You had no choice but to peek between your fingers to see his smiling face. He looked so happy and full of light. You couldn’t dare to bring him down from his high. He was worthy of so much more, someone who wasn’t empty. Surely he could see that.

“As much as I’d love to talk your lovely hands, I’d rather talk to that face of yours.”

“Hen-“ Your voice cracked from not being used in so long.

“Please,” He begged.

Every inch of your body quaked, the inevitable was here. He would see you, see how broken and lost you were, and wouldn’t be able to take it. The expiration date for your time together was today.

“Please, sweetheart.” He tried again, his voice no louder than a whisper.

You shook your head in silent agreement to his plea. Trembling, your hands pealed away from your face and finally you saw your boyfriend’s face fully. Messy curls were strewn across his forehead and there was an inkling of stubble making an appearance on his face. His eyes were bright and warm as always. You could just barely make out the brown amongst the blue at the top of his left eye.

“There you are,” Henry murmured, his voice dropping an octave.

“Hen-“

“Shhhh... I know it’s not Friday but I wanted to see you. Ariel was worried. I was worried.”

“I’m so sorry-” You started as you felt tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, love. I’m happy to see your face. I would ask how you are, but I think I know. Have you been taking your meds?”

“I don’t remember. All I know my stomach is a bit upset,” you whispered as the first hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I’d reckon it’s been a few days then,” Henry sighed, ”Do you think could get up and make some green tea? That’s always helped in the past.”

You groaned, flopping backwards onto your bed. A few moments pass by in silence as you weighed your options.

“I can try.”

“That’s all I’m asking for, sweetheart,” admitted the blue eyed man,” How about you bring me with you?”

You nodded slowly. Henry was always good at reading you. It seemed that regardless of the distance between the two of you and the blurriness of the camera, his skill hadn’t waned. He knew you so well and right now you were thankful for that. There was so much you couldn’t say right now, you didn’t have the energy nor the clarity to do so.

Stretching your arms above your head, you winced at the stiffness in them. You had to do this, you had to fight that little voice in your head. You carefully moved yourself to the edge the bed. Taking a much needed deep breath, you forced your aching body to sit up. Gently, after a few moments, you maneuvered yourself to stand on your feet.

You glanced over at your computer screen and saw nothing but pride and encouragement in his blue eyes. It gave you the required push to grab your laptop and make your way towards the kitchen, tired body be damned. Normally, you feel safe and content in the silence with him. The freezing emptiness that had made it’s home amongst your bones and mortal flesh flourished in it.

“How’s filming going?” You croaked.

Henry was quick to fill the crushing silence “Remember that scene I mentioned to you last time…” His hearty timbre warming the outermost parts of your mind. Puttering around the kitchen, you put the kettle on and grabbed your favorite mug while listening. He could be speaking about blue-footed boobies and you would still be rapt.

Sooner than you would of liked, the kettle sung it’s annoying little tune. Carefully, you snatched it off the stove and poured into the waiting mug. You dropped the teabag in and leaned up against the counter. Glancing over at the computer, you saw Henry watching you with a smile on his face.

“Good job, sweetheart,” Henry beamed.

You tried to blink away the tears that remained in your eyes. “I boiled water. Nothing too special about that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Shakily setting the down the mug, you forced yourself to take some deep breaths, but it does nothing to stop the onslaught of tears. They blazed in hot trails down your cheeks.

“My brain doesn’t work, Hen. The fog sets in and it’s like I can’t do the simplest tasks. I can’t even just go through the motions,” You sobbed

“Oh, darling,” his voice barely a whisper and your gaze remained on the floor, arms wrapped around your quaking form.

“Nothing’s working…. I’m so tired of feeling like this. I don’t even feel alive anymore. Just empty and cold all the time.”

Silence fell over the two of you once again; only being pierced by your shuddering breaths as you tried regain control. It took a few moments to calm yourself. You brushed away the remaining tears and finally glance up at him.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. I know you’re struggling. I’m worried about you being all alone right now with everything that’s going on,” Henry admitted,” How about you ask Ariel to come stay with you? Just until I finish filming.”

“I…I can do that.”

“I want you to know you don’t have to stick to our schedule. I know you like the consistency it brings, but I don’t mind if you call other times, love. I’d be happy to hear your voice more often.”

Nodding your head, you grabbed your abandoned tea and took a sip. “I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too. We’re in this together, us against the problem.”

Somehow his words seemed to pierce at the remaining chill in your body. He was exactly what you needed, your lighthouse in the storm. No matter how far apart you may be, you’ll always find your way back to his loving embrace.

[dashingdcboys]

Batman’s cape

We all heard of Bruce using his cape to shelter his robins from danger, like glass shattering and bullets, so it’s only fact that it’ll become a habit eventually.

Dick:

The boy was the first to ever work alongside batman, and with his hyperactive tendencies he was the first to get up close and personal with the cape. He probably saw it as a glorified climbing wall when he was just a child.

Bruce, while on a stake-out with robin, suddenly feeling small hands grabbing fistful of the cape’s material as Dick climbs onto his shoulders. “I told you I couldn’t see anything from my post! Your pointy ears were in the way :((”

Bruce didn’t mind, of course he didn’t. It was Richard and that boy’s innately adorable, even though the boy’s pixie boots swinging in front of his face were blocking his view. 

Lastly, given Dick was wearing such short pants, Bruce would always make an effort to shelter the boy from harsh weather conditions during the winter. He still does this when Dick becomes nightwing, out of habit

Jason:

Jason used to be skeptical of the cape, thought it was just a big hindrance - tha Bruce was only using it for theatrics and that he’d be much better off without it. 

“Dick doesn’t wear a cape and he can blend into the shadows, shake off broken glass and bullets just as easily!”

That is until, the day they were saving a bunch of citizens from a housefire. They got trapped inside, Jason had given his oxygen mask to a civillian who was struggling to breathe, almost suffocating himself.

Bruce wrapped Jason in his cape, making an airpocket of oxygen which the fire can’t combust, until help arrives.

“Maybe that cape isn’t as stupid as I thought.” he mumbles in a muffled voice within his father’s cape.

Bruce would also do this when Jason’s having an outburst as a “time-out”

Tim:

The third robin fanboyed so hard when he first saw the cape and cowl. You think Dick saw it cool? This smoll boy in bright yellow, red and green had his eyes sparkling at the sight of it in person.

Immediately, he started coming up with theories of its material, and Bruce patiently answered every single question he had - even though Tim nailed the majority of the answers with his hypothesis. 

“Let me guess, kevlar? Interwoven to stop bullets from less than a meter away? Synthetic - so that it’s lighter than it seems. But also . . huh, kind of soft material on the inside. Why? It’s an outer accessory - it doesn’t even come into direct contact with your skin.”

Bruce, having alfred make that upgrade so that Dick and Jay could have snuggled up to him under his cape when they got cold : “no reason.”

The only thing Tim didn’t guess was its final and most important function: a parental tool.

One day Tim took his laptop on a stake-out to test out a new program he had developed, except, it had started to rain. So, naturally, Bruce sheltered the boy with his cape and they both grinned as the lighting of the entire building went out across the street, causing the goons inside to enter a panicked frenzy.

“rock paper scissors for who gets to crash through the window first?”

“you go, robin, you’ve earned it.”

Steph:

She was just happy to make it onto the team, honestly, and was very determined to prove her worth to Batman. Her overly talkative nature reminded Bruce of Dick, her short temper of Jason and her aberrant excitement of Tim. Thus the cape had multiple uses with this robin, but she wanted none of it.

She was surprisingly disciplined on the field, clearly acting overly serious to try reach this imaginary standard she set. 

“Don’t follow me until I give you the signal.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m your mentor, not your boss.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

“* sigh *”

So in order for her to relax, unwind a bit, he noticed how she always had a granola bar in her utility belt, and did the same. He could hear Steph’s stomach growl and reached for his utility belt under his cape.

“Can’t find what you’re looking for? We used quite a few smoke bombs in the previous attack huh? Maybe I have some spare -”

Bruce, pulling out a granola bar: “Sorry, it got crushed a little, I’m pretty sure it’s just dust in the packet now but here, stop taking up space for snacks in your own belt. Mine has much more space.” 

“:00 !!”

“How do you managed to not crush these delicate breakfast bars anyway?”

Steph, smirking: “It’s a delicate art . .”

“Huh, might use it for precision training.”

He also shelters Steph from the wind when she needs to take off her hairban and arrange her hair.

Dami:

He ses the cape and cowl as a prize to be earned - his birth right which he must work hard to obtain. The boy already had his own dark cape, with a hood, which suffices to keep him warm and hidden throughout the night. But Bruce’s is much . . bigger. He’s also tiny. I think you’ve already guessed where I’m going with this.

“They’re only expecting one of us, I say we practice maneuver eight.” The boy suggested with all seriousness.

“Good idea, robin. Get into position.”

Bruce stands alone in the middle of a giant museum which the riddler is keeping hostage until the commissioner brings the ransom money, goons pointing their guns at him from every nick and corner as the riddler remains safely locked away in one of the bank safes - letting his men do all the work.

“Bold move coming in here head on with no back up.”

Guns start blazing, and Bruce is busy dodging them while the riddler tries to escape.

Cue the riddler’s shocked expresssion when he hears a small arabian boy’s high-pitched war cries.

“Operation Robin Spring attack.”

And Dami easily finds his way past all the goons and dropkicks the riddler, then goes to free the hostages.

(Robin spring attack is called that, because well, it’s an attack where Dami literally jumps out from under Batman’s cape. But also “spring” because robins don’t usually appear in spring in most countries, and it’s a surprise attack.)

Thank you for listening.

[codename-adler]

foxes + onesies (7/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Andrew

TW: mentions/implications of sexual abuse

Andrew does not get a onesie

instead, he watches Lilo & Stitch, alone, in his bed, on his laptop

the first time he saw the movie, it was in theaters

he was 4 or 5, maybe

it was with one of his first foster families, who cared for three other foster kids, all around Andrew’s age: Claire, Kelly and Ben

sometimes he wonders where they are now, but he doesn’t care: it’s just a fleeting thought

Lilo & Stitch marked him for life

something about Nani and Lilo’s relationship, something about family struck him deep

something about it broke his little heart, and he never recovered

and yeah, the aliens were pretty cool too

but Andrew never said anything about it to anyone

except for the year before he turned seven

he was still with the same foster family that had brought him to the movies

for Christmas, instead of asking for the usual necessities like clothes or the very unnecessary candies… Andrew asked for Lilo & Stitch

and he got it

he got the brand new VHS

he kept it under his pillow for a few months, untouched, unopened

at night, he would run his little fingers along the edges of the box, and play the movie in his head

because yes, in one viewing, Andrew had memorized the entire movie and could now remember it scene by scene, eyes closed

Lilo & Stitch was one of the first things he actively committed to his memory

Andrew only put the VHS on when the other kids were out of the house

which, didn’t happen a lot

he watched it maybe three or four times before moving into another foster family

Andrew didn’t care that he left this one, as long as he could keep Lilo & Stitch

the next few foster homes he moved into were packed with kids

like, 8 kids and counting

all his foster parents were either greedy, exhausted, overworked or deeply uncaring

by the time he was 7, Andrew had rewatched his VHS less than five times

he was always so careful with it, he never let anyone touch it, and he often threw hands with whoever dared lay a hand on it

which is part of why, by the time he was 7, Andrew had been through 4 more foster homes

he remembers the night he lost his VHS, though

and he remembers exactly where he left it

he was in a home with 9 other kids ranging from 7 months to 13 years old

the foster mother was a lazy woman, but very stressed out and impatient

the 7-months-old that had just joined them 2 weeks ago was giving everyone migraines

one night, the woman couldn’t take it anymore; she had to get rid of some kids

but instead of calling child services to take away the baby, she told them to come pick up “three cases”

Andrew knew he was one of them, somehow

he slipped out the backdoor and into the garden

he dug a hole in the far back, with his bare hands

he buried Lilo & Stitch right there and then

he slipped into the house again, unnoticed

he washed his hands of the cold, wet, black dirt without a second thought

child services came that night and left with Andrew and the other two oldest kids

Andrew didn’t care, he just thought that the woman was stupid

Andrew wasn’t fun, wasn’t cute, wasn’t nice

but at least he didn’t talk, didn’t cry, took care of himself

after that home, he was transferred to a new one, where he was alone

a middle-aged couple took him in, Sandra and Harvey Whittaker

it was that home

Andrew was glad his VHS never touched a thing from that dirty house

the rest, as they say, was history

Andrew never saw the movie again

he never once closed his eyes to recall every minute of Lilo and Stitch’s adventures, never uttered a word about it, never even glanced at anything resembling a blue little alien or a red hawaiian pattern

until Palmetto

it was totally by accident

Andrew had gone on his usual convenience store runs to buy ice cream

(he was thinking bubble gum or peanut butter rocky road)

and right there, next to the register, a DVD stand

with all the Fast & Furious, the Marvel movies, Stuart Little…

and Lilo & Stitch

Andrew bought it on a whim

he went back to his dorms with his movie and his pints of ice cream, and locked himself in his room

he put it on his laptop, and watched

it was still the same

it was still good

it was still Lilo, and Stitch, and Nani

(David was, well, quite good-looking now, though)

(but why did he have to be called David? that was Wymack’s name, it was an ugly name, a boner-killing name. why.)

as the credits rolled, Andrew removed the DVD from his laptop, put in back into its box and hid it in his desk

Andrew went on with his life as if nothing had happened

but that wasn’t… nothing

and so now, in present-day Fox Tower, the Foxes had got it into their heads to make one Neil Josten watch the Disney classics

mind you, Neil didn’t care at all

action movies or intense movies could keep his attention long enough, but “baby movies”, as he called them, did nothing for him

but these Disney nights served as bonding time for the Foxes, and Neil could sneak a nap in the back of the room while Andrew played with his hair

however, one night, when Matt had suggested they watch Lilo & Stitch next, Andrew had left the room without a word

which, not unusual per se, but Neil could tell it didn’t mean nothing

he didn’t follow Andrew, nobody did, but Neil waited until half the movie to go looking for him

he found him in his room, in his bed, his laptop illuminating his face

Neil went to stand at the end of the bed

Neil: Yes or no?

Andrew: …Yes.

Neil got into Andrew’s bed and laid down beside Andrew, face smushed into the pillows, a foot of space between their bodies

Neil angled his head backwards to glimpse at the screen

and right there

Lilo & Stitch

Neil looked up at Andrew, then back at the screen, then again at Andrew

he didn’t smile

he didn’t tease

he didn’t move

he didn’t say a word

he just looked at Andrew, and looked, and looked and looked and looked…

Andrew: Staring.

Neil stopped, then, and curled himself on his side, eyes trained on the screen

Andrew removed his earbuds, lowered the volume of his laptop and put on the subtitles for Neil, because he knew that would give him something more to focus on

they watched the whole movie together

Neil stayed awake

Andrew stayed put

Neil stayed

Andrew stayed

it’s a month later, when Neil comes back from class and checks their P.O. box

it’s there

he goes up to the girls’ dorm and asks Renee for her Post-Its

he then goes back to his dorm, where Andrew is sitting on his bed, with his laptop

Neil simply chucks him the package but doesn’t wait for Andrew’s reaction

on the plastic bag, a single orange Post-It with Neil’s terrible handwriting

Ohana

Andrew knows what it is

he’s seen the others

with their ugly-ass wannabe pajamas

he rips the plastic open nonetheless, because it’s a package, it demands to be opened

and yeah, it is what he knew it was

an oversized, velvety blue onesie

it’s Stitch

it grants Neil a 399%

so, maybe Andrew wears it, maybe he doesn’t

because he didn’t want a onesie

and, technically, Andrew did not get a onesie

but Neil did

yet, Andrew keeps it, and the Post-It

because maybe he did want a onesie

because it’s Stitch

because it’s from Neil

because Ohana

[nikki-writes-stuff]

At the Edge of the Woods (Werewolf!Steve x Reader)

Summary: When you move into a cottage on the edge of the forest, you’re ready to start a new life in a new, quiet town. But when you attract the attention of Steve Rogers, a man who everyone in town seems to dislike and fear, your world is turned upside down after he decides that you belong to him. 

Pairing: Werewolf/Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Read part two here! 

A/N: Hey, guys! So a couple warnings about this one: it contains stalking, a/b/o dynamics, non-con, dub-con, breeding kink, and a whole lotta sin. Also, this is my first time writing anything with alpha/omega stuff in it, so be kind! And let me know if you liked it or if there’s anything I need to work on when writing about this sorta thing. Thank you so much, and enjoy!

It was love at first sight. From the moment you laid eyes on the cottage, you knew it would become your home. The thing was tiny, barely any bigger than a shack, and it was a good fifteen minutes’ drive from the nearest sign of civilization. But you didn’t care; you were enamored with the thick layer of ivy that had overtaken the western wall of the structure, and there were huge bushes of honeysuckle growing along the edge of the forest just a few feet from the backdoor.

And when your real estate agent told you the price of the property, the deal was immediately sealed.

“You’re kidding,” you’d deadpanned. “That’s all?”

“Yep,” she’d grinned, clutching her binder of properties tight against her chest. “Quite the bargain, huh?”

“I mean… Yeah,” you’d laughed. “It must be too good to be true. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, structurally,” she began, “The plumbing is on the older side of things, but it passed inspection. Same goes for the heating and air conditioning. There’s been a bit of a rodent problem in the past, but the appraiser said that a few mouse traps should do the trick to take care of that.”

Her smile had fallen at that point, though, and she shifted on her feet as she considered her next words.

“What is it?” you’d prompted.

“Well… The thing is,” she said sheepishly, “The locals have this superstition about the woods in this area. People say that they’re, uh…haunted.”

“…Haunted?”

You were barely able to contain an amused grin from overtaking your face, and with a shrug you turned back toward the kitchen, admiring the view of the trees through the little window above the stove.

“I know, it’s pretty weird,” the agent chuckled. “But people around here really do believe it. Something about an urban legend. I will say, though, that coyotes and wolves are known to roam around at night, so that’s probably where the paranoia comes from. Just try not to go out after dark. And if you get any chickens or outdoor animals, I’d keep them inside a kennel.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I’m not exactly a farmer. I’m just looking for a place to settle down.

“And I think this cottage is the perfect spot.”

A month later, after the papers were signed and your possessions were moved in, you found yourself happier than you’d ever been in your new abode. You’d purchased house plants and artwork, designing the small space until it was exactly to your liking. You’d even decided to take up gardening, and your tiny back porch had become dotted with pots filled with flourishing herbs.

You fell into an easy routine. On Mondays, you would venture into town, picking up groceries from the local mart and picking up any other supplies you needed. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays were dedicated to your work; you were the owner and manager of a blog that had become an overnight success several months ago, and so you spent those days curled up in the cottage, typing away at your laptop and creating content.

The only strange thing thus far had been the town residents’ reaction to you. Everyone was friendly, of course, and they’d made it clear that small town hospitality was a value the entire population seemed to share, but you weren’t oblivious to the way they side-eyed you. No one ever looked suspicious, per se, more like…expectant. Like they were waiting for you to say or do something, though you had no idea what it could be.

Earl, the bookstore owner, was by far one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and after four weeks of the bizarre treatment, you finally asked him about it.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” he waved you off, sliding your new books into a paper bag. “It’s just that no one’s ever lasted long in that cottage o’ yours.”

“…Well, that’s a bit…unsettling. What happened to them?”

“Nothing,” he was quick to assure you. “Nothing bad happens to ‘em. It’s not like they’ve gotten hurt or anything. It’s just that, uh… Well. Strange things seem to happen in that part o’ the woods at night, and it’s scared the last couple o’ tenants off.”

“Huh… My real estate agent did mention something like that,” you admitted, starting to feel an irrational spark of apprehension. “What kind of things did they see?”

“Well… I don’t wanna scare you away,” he grumbled, scratching at his salt-and-pepper beard.

“I promise you won’t. I really like where I’m at right now. I’m just…curious, I guess.”

Earl seemed to consider it for a moment before giving in.

“Alright,” he sighed. “But for the record, I don’t believe any of the silly nonsense some folks ‘round here like to gossip about. This is a quiet town – a safe town. The only dangerous thing about this place is Mary Jo’s strawberry rhubarb pie down at the soda shop – I swear those things are the reason I got diabetes.”

You chuckled at Earl, and he gave you a warm smile before leaning towards you over the counter, propping himself up on his elbow.

“So, anyways, back to your house,” he started. “The last people there were this younger couple. They were nice kids – had just gotten hitched. But after a few weeks, they said they started noticin’ howls at night. Now, that’s normal for this area; we’ve got some wolves. But these howls were close, so loud that it woke em’ up most nights.

“Then, they started seeing people walking around the property around midnight. It coulda’ been that they were smokin’ some stuff they shouldn’a been smokin’, but they swore up and down that they saw naked men traipsin’ around. One time, there was one on their back porch, and the husband ran out to chase him off, but as quick as they saw him, he vanished.

“Again, I don’t know if I believe all of that junk,” Earl huffed. “But… the old lady who lived there before the couple said the same thing before she passed away, god rest her soul. And ol’ Lizzy didn’t lie about this sorta thing.”

You made a quiet hum of contemplation, nodding.

“Well,” you eventually spoke, “if I see any naked men hanging around, I have my handy dandy taser.”

A wide grin broke out over the older man’s face, and he reached over the counter to cuff your shoulder.

“Thata girl,” he chuckled. “I like it. And if you do see people hangin’ around on your property, give me a call, ok?” He fumbled around for a business card, eventually opening the cash register and pulling one out. “Call the bottom number if anyone gives you trouble, ok? I know I’m not the most intimidating guy around, but I keep a shotgun at the house just in case. And if the wolves become a problem, call the police. They’ll send some guys over from animal control to chase ‘em off.”

“Thanks, Earl,” you smiled, tucking the card into your wallet. “Oh, and before I forget, do you have any stationary? Letter writing paper, colored pens, that sort of thing?”

“I’m afraid we don’t. Oh, but Greg and Lou would probably have some. Try their art supply store; it’s right around the corner on the left side o’ the road.”

With that, you thanked Earl and walked out, clutching your paper bag of novels to your chest. You had to admit that the idea of wolves on your property was starting to scare you, but the thought of a naked guy just hanging out in the woods was enough to make you laugh to yourself. Even if it was true, you’d dealt with weirdos before. If that was the worst of your problems, then you’d be a happy camper.

You followed Earl’s instructions and immediately spotted a quaint store with a sign over the door reading “The Brushstroke”. Upon walking inside, you were greeted by the smell of paper and ink, and papier mache mobiles were hanging from the ceiling every few feet, dancing in the breeze that had flown in after you opened the door. Two men were standing behind the counter, sipping from steaming mugs of tea, and their heads popped up as you walked in.

“Hey, there!” one of them called, giving you a wave. “Welcome; come on in.”

“Hello,” you replied with a smile.

“We haven’t seen you around before,” the other man remarked, a kind smile on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be the new girl in town, would you?”

“Word spreads quickly, I guess.”

“It does when you live in a town like this,” he nodded. “I’m Lou, by the way. And this is my husband Greg.”

Greg nodded in greeting, and you gave them a wide smile.

“It’s nice to meet you guys.”

“Likewise, hon. Can we help you find anything?”

You told them what you were looking for, and they instructed you towards the back of the store, where you found a wall filled with rows of neat packets of paper right next to a cubby of pens of all types and colors. You took your time in making your selections, not even noticing the door of the shop opening and closing; it was only when you heard Greg and Lou’s quiet conversation come to an abrupt halt that you glanced around the corner to see what was going on.

Your eyes widened when you saw the man standing in front of the counter; he was tall, maybe a few inches over six foot, and built like a tank. A thick, well-groomed beard adorned his face, and his hair was on the longer side, curling just past his ears in thick, easy waves. Despite the chilly weather outside, he was only dressed in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and you watched his biceps bulge under the fabric as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“…Steve,” Greg finally said. “Long time no see.”

The man – Steve, evidently – nodded his head as he approached the counter.

“Wh-what can we do for you?” Lou asked, seeming to shrink back as he walked towards them.

“I need a new sketchbook,” Steve mumbled, almost too quietly for you to hear. His voice was deep, resonating, and something about its gravelly edge made goosebumps rise up over your arms.

“You know where to find ‘em,” Greg stated after clearing his throat. “Just get whatever you need and go.”

It looked as if Steve was about to say something, but after a pause, he just nodded, ducking his head and turning directly towards you. You stiffened as he grew nearer, feeling an unexplainable urge to turn and run away from him, but then his eyes met yours, and you were frozen in place.

Blue irises stared directly into you, and you watched as surprise washed over his features. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in through his nose, and you swore that you saw his pupils dilate as he looked you up and down. When his gaze finally met yours again, and you stumbled back a step, stunned at the look on his face. It was as if he knew you.

But that couldn’t be; you’d never seen this man before. If you had, you definitely would’ve remembered him.

“I-I…” you stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, but all of a sudden you were broken out of your strange stupor. Fixing your eyes firmly on the floor, you turned and blindly grabbed the first stack of papers that your extended hand came in contact with. You did the same with the pens, grabbing a random pack before turning on your heel and heading towards the front.

Or, rather, heading directly into a broad, firm chest. You hadn’t heard any footsteps, but while your back was turned Steve had apparently stalked up behind you, and now you were so close that you could smell the distinct scent of pine wafting off of him. Pine and…something else, something musky. It made your mouth water and your eyes flutter shut, and you could have sworn that you heard a deep growl sound from his chest.

The noise startled you so badly that you dropped everything, even your paper bag from Earl’s, and you felt as if your entire body was trembling as you turned away. On unsteady feet, you walked back to the front, glancing at Greg and Lou out of the corner of your eye as you headed towards the door. Lou was watching you with a concerned expression painted across his face, but Greg was still staring Steve down, as if he were sizing him up.

The cold, early-spring wind hit you square in the face once you exited the store, and it sobered you up enough to cease your nervous trembling. There was still a sense of blind panic, though, a deep-seated fear that drove you to march over to your car without turning back.

As you peeled out of your parking space and sped towards your home, you slowly began to calm down, taking slow, even breaths to slow the frantic beating of your heart. As you put more and more distance between you and the mysterious man from the art store, you found that, even later on when you were safe in your home, you still couldn’t rationalize why you’d felt the way you had. And that evening, when you were getting ready to go to bed, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.

Typically, you kept the curtains in your bedroom open, enjoying the sight of the forest laying just beyond the panes of glass. But tonight, before going to bed, you drew them shut before burrowing under the covers, hiding away from the lingering, unexplainable dread that had followed you home that day.

____________

You weren’t sure what had woken you. When you jolted out of your slumber, you were laying sprawled out over your mattress, your sheets tangled around your ankles. Everything was quiet, unsettlingly so. It was as if your cottage was holding its breath, waiting for something horrible to happen. The world was black beyond your windows, and the clock on your bedside table read 3:42 in the morni-

Wait.

The lingering tendrils of sleep within your brain melted away as you bolted upright, your wide eyes focused on your windows and the curtains that were neatly pulled away from them. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you slowly, deliberately, stood up from your bed, reaching for your phone blindly as you kept your eyes on the windows.

You drew the curtains closed as your thumb hovered over the emergency call button, and you gulped before turning towards your open bedroom door.

“H-hello?” you called out, voice still thick with sleep.

There was no answer, and you took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room. You were relieved to find nothing out of place; the kitchen, as well, was in perfect order, as was your tiny bathroom. You grew bolder as you searched your house, checking underneath your bed and inside of your wardrobe, but still you found nothing.

Eventually, you sauntered over to your back door, and that’s when you smelled it. Smelled him. The same scent that had flooded your senses back at the bookstore was thick in the air right next to the backdoor. You blinked rapidly, feeling a stirring in your gut as you inhaled it, and you gulped as you faced the door.

“…Steve?” you murmured, suddenly unable to make a sound any louder than a whisper.

Without realizing what you were doing, your hand came up to the doorknob, tracing the curve of it with your thumb. A tiny, experimental twist revealed that it wasn’t locked, and a small voice in the back of your head supplied that it was sure you’d locked it before going to sleep.

One more twist, and the door popped open, goosebumps rising up over your skin as the night air rushed over you. You turned on the porch light with a flick of your fingers and stepped out, wincing when the floorboards creaked under your feet. You half expected to see a naked man standing there just as Earl had said, but there was nobody.

You let out a shaky laugh, leaning against the doorway as your eyes flitted over the forest. You felt silly, getting all paranoid for no reason. With a small, sheepish smile, you straightened up and turned to head back inside, eager to climb back under your warm sheets and forget about the whole thing.

But that was when you saw it.

You stopped in your tracks and sucked in a deep breath as the wolf sauntered out from the tree line, its eyes focused directly on you just as yours were focused on it. Its fur was sandy and mottled with streaks of light brown and creamy white, and in the dim light you thought that you caught a flash of blue in its eyes. You took a step backwards as that same smell washed over you, and for a short, fleeting moment, you thought that there was something familiar about the beast.

It took another step towards you, and that was when you realized how massive it was. You’d seen pictures of wolves on the internet; you knew how big they were supposed to be compared to people. But this was another thing completely; this wolf looked to be the size of a grizzly bear, and you knew that if it were to stand up on its two hind legs, it would tower over you.

Abruptly, you broke out of your paralysis, blinking rapidly as you turned back towards your door. You heard a growl from behind you, but you ignored it as you fled back into your house, slamming the door shut and turning the lock back into place. A thud sounded on its other side, followed by the scratching of claws against wood.

You waited several moments, silently begging the animal to stop, but the thumping only carried on, accompanied by muted, distressed whining. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your phone, punching in ‘911’ and holding the device up to your ear.

“911, where is your emergency?”

“U-um… I-I’m at 432 Nottington Lane. Please, there’s this, this wolf outside and it’s trying to get it, and…”

As you spoke, the noises suddenly stopped. You paused, frowning at the door and straining your ears. But everything had once more gone silent.

“Hello, ma’am? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m still here. Um… I think it’s gone now. It’s… Yeah, it’s gone. I’m really sorry to bother you guys. Just, uh… Just ignore this call, please. I’m sorry.”

You hung up and set your phone down on the kitchen counter, staring hard at your back door.

“…Shit.”

_______________

You didn’t close your curtains again after that night. You told yourself it was because there was no reason to, that you had nothing to hide yourself from. But, in the back of your mind, you knew that it was because you were too afraid of waking up with them open of someone else’s accord.

Two days went by with no further incident. You kept up with your little routine, throwing yourself into your work and acting as if you weren’t still shaken up from the ordeal. You called Earl and let him know you’d seen a wolf, just like he’d said, and the two of you had laughed over the scare it had given you. But the laughter didn’t reach your eyes or your heart, and it was still hard for you to fall asleep whenever night came around.

On the third day, though, you decided that you needed to get out. Every time your eyes strayed to the forest, you felt a pinprick of anxiety, and you were desperate to forget about what had happened. And so, dressing in your most comfortable leggings and oversized sweater, you ventured out into town, stopping for breakfast at the soda shop.

Mary Jo’s Soda Shop had been open and owned by Mary Jo herself since before you were born. It was located right in the center of town, and it was the closest thing to ‘busy’ that the small township’s population could be capable of. The front porch was lined with old, worn rocking chairs, and empty planter boxes sat beneath every single window; you were sure that they’d be overflowing with petunias as the weather turned warmer.

The atmosphere was warm and cozy as you stepped inside. People of all different races and walks of life found solace under Mary’s roof, and it was clear by the easy smiles, easy laughter, and easy conversation that pervaded the dining room. A teenaged girl, who you’d later find out to be Mary Jo’s granddaughter, showed you to your table and took your order, and as you settled down into the cracked-leather seat of your booth, you found yourself finally relaxing.

It was easy to get lost in your own thoughts, especially with the dull roar of voices and the soft sounds of country music playing over the radio as background noise. You stared off into space as you sipped your orange juice, content to just zone out for a few moments and let your brain go on autopilot.

Maybe that was why it startled you so much when a man abruptly slid into the seat across from you. You were pulled out of your revelry by a dark shadow suddenly appearing in your peripheral vision, and your initial fright only deepened when you looked up to see who it was.

“Steve…”

The man from yesterday was staring you down, dressed this time in a red and black flannel. His hair, too, looked like it had been combed out, and his beard was shiny and soft-looking, as if he’d rubbed oil into it that morning.

You didn’t know what to say as he sat across from you, his fingers laced together on top of the table, and for an uncomfortably long moment, the two of you were completely silent.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, and you arched your eyebrow at him.

“Why do you want to know?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he let out a long sigh through his nose. He didn’t answer your question, and you started to shift in your seat as he continued to stare.

Finally, you told him, murmuring your name under your breath. Upon hearing it, he nodded, finally glancing up when your waitress came back to take your order. When her eyes fell onto the man seated across from you, she visibly paled, her mascara-lined eyes widening as her smile turned to a grimace.

“Mr. Rogers,” she said timidly, “my grandmother told you not to come in anymore-“

“It’ll be fine, Rosie,” he grunted. “I won’t cause any trouble; I’m just talking with (Y/N), here.”

Rosie looked over to you, and you blinked up at her, hoping your incredulity was showing through in your eyes.

“I… I’m not sure…”

Steve huffed and looked over at you, a predatory edge appearing in his visage.

“Go on,” he encouraged you. “Tell her.”

“I really don’t-“

Suddenly, his scent was flooding your senses once more, and you almost gagged on your words as you breathed it in. You wondered why Rosie didn’t seem to notice it as it washed over you, nearly suffocating in its intensity.

“I, uh…” Your voice trailed off distractedly, and Steve’s knee nudged yours under the table.

“I-it’s fine,” you finally managed to stutter, and a pleased smirk appeared over his features.

“See? Everything is fine,” he insisted. “Now, weren’t you coming to take our orders?”

Rosie hesitated, but finally she slipped a notepad out of her pocket and nodded.

“Perfect. I’ll have the sampler with crispy bacon. Eggs over easy. And, uh… a biscuit on the side,” Steve listed off.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, prompting you to jump a little before telling Rosie what you would like.

“Oh! Uh… I’ll have the same,” you muttered, though you hadn’t really been planning on eating anything of the sort.

But Rosie jotted it down in her notepad, all but fleeing to the kitchen after you were done speaking.

“And I’ll take some coffee!” Steve called after her.

When it was finally just the two of you, he once again gave you his full attention, and you fought to keep your mind straight.

“I don’t…know you,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know you, and you’re making me uncomfortable. Please, just-“

“I really liked the nightgown you had on last night.”

Your eyes bugged open, and your head shot up to look at him. You felt your blood run cold as he watched you with that same smirk he’d worn while ordering Rosie around, and you clutched your purse tighter to yourself.

“Wh…What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he insisted. “How are you liking living in that cottage? The last few people there-“

“What the fuck,” you interrupted. “You…you were watching me?”

He sighed at your interruption but nodded, leaning forward on his elbows.

“And you were watching me.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I never saw you, or I would’ve called the cops-“

“But you did see me,” he insisted. “While I was in my other form.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but then understanding came over you, and you shook your head.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You mean…the wolf?”

Steve nodded, looking up when Rosie came back with his coffee. She all but slammed the cup on the table, spilling a few drops of the beverage as she poured it. After shooting him a sour glare, she turned on her heel to attend to the other tables around you, the occupants thereof starting to notice who you were sitting with. The din of voices had gone just a bit quieter as they watched him, and you were starting to realize that the entire town knew who Steve was, and judging on the locals’ reaction to him, his reputation wasn’t on the favorable side of things.

“So… Let me get this straight,” you deadpanned, watching as Steve took a sip from his steaming mug. “You’re saying that you were the wolf I saw?”

He nodded, swallowing his coffee.

“I’m among the last of my kind,” he sighed, tapping his fingers against his cup. “At least in this area of the country. But, yeah, that was me, scratching at your door. I was honestly a little hurt by your reaction-“

“You’re fucking insane.”

A scowl overtook his features, and his hands tensed as his fingers went still.

“I would really prefer it,” he growled, “if you didn’t use that sort of language with me, Omega.”

“Ome- What?” You shook your head, unable to process how insane this man really was. “Ok, I’m done here.”

You grabbed your purse and stood up from the booth, but a hand clamped down on your upper arm as you made for the front door.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Steve insisted, and you felt fear course through you at how possessive he’d just sounded. “We have a lot we need to talk about.”

“Let go of me!” You tried to pull away from him, but you might as well have been struggling against an iron chain. Steve didn’t budge as he held you in place, and a whimper escaped your throat as he began pulling you to sit next to him in the booth.

“Steve.”

Both of you froze when you heard the voice, and you looked up to see three men standing over your table, frowning at the man who still had a firm hold on you.

“Steve, let the girl go,” one of them said, and you saw Steve’s lip curl out of the corner of your eye.

“Rhodey,” he grunted. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not long enough,” the man fired back.

For a second, you were afraid that Steve was going to ignore them, but then his grip on you disappeared. You hurriedly stood up again, backing away until you were out of arm’s reach from him. The entire restaurant was silent as everybody within held their breath, watching Rhodey and Steve stare one another down.

“This isn’t any of your business,” Steve said, and it was then that you realized you couldn’t wait there any longer. You didn’t care how it played out; you just wanted to get out of there.

And so, while everyone was distracted, you turned on your heel and slipped out, pushing past the front door, running past the rocking chairs and planter boxes, crossing the street without first looking both ways. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute, and you didn’t fully know where you were running to until you were standing in the entry way of Earl’s bookstore.

“Hey, there,” he called out to you, but his typical cheerful greeting died on his tongue when he saw your face. “What happened?”

Twenty minutes later, you and Earl were seated in his office. You’d told him everything, save for the way Steve’s scent affected you. You knew it was crazy, and you didn’t want one of your only friends in your new town to think you were as insane as your stalker.

“…Shit.”

It was the first word he’d uttered since you began telling him your tale, and he rubbed his forehead as he took in your story.

“Shit. I mean… I always knew there was something off about that Rogers boy,” he admitted. “But he’s never pulled anything like this.”

You quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at him.

“Why does everyone dislike him?” you asked. “It seems like the whole town has something against him.”

Your friend sighed and sat back in his chair, stroking his beard in thought.

“It didn’t used to be that way,” he started. “Steve, he grew up here. He was always the golden boy – never cursed, never acted disrespectful. Hell, he was a boy scout for years, and all throughout high school he was the team quarterback. He won so many games that he became a local celebrity.

“But, uh… Well. Shit hit the fan the day he turned 18.”

You frowned; you couldn’t picture the crazy, creepy man you’d just been borderline-assaulted by as a popular, polite teenager.

“What happened when he turned 18?” you asked.

Earl hesitated, wringing his hands. For a pregnant pause, he didn’t say anything, but finally he took a deep breath.

“Look, I don’t personally have anything against the guy,” he finally huffed. “But even I get the creeps when I’m around him. That boy, he was never the same after that fourth of July. Hell, the town hasn’t been the same since.”

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, and finally Earl began the story.

“Steve’s folks were a nice couple. He was their only kid, so each year, Sarah and Joseph would throw Steve this big birthday party. I’m talkin’ fireworks, barbeque, the whole nine yards. But his 18th birthday outdid them all; the whole town practically showed up for it.

“But Steve was off the entire day; I think he was sick or something. He was real sweaty, and his eyes were all…red. Like he’d been scratchin’ at ‘em. And when the fireworks started goin’ off… The boy lost it.

“It was like a flip switched in him; next thing we knew, he was takin’ off into the woods, holdin’ his head like his skull was gonna split in two. His mama went runnin’ after him, and then his pops went to get ‘em after about five minutes or so when there was no sign of them comin’ back.

“After half an hour, we went searchin’ for ‘em, and it wasn’t till dawn that we found the three of them.”

Earl took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with a trembling hand as he recalled the memory.

“I was in the team that found his parents, and… Hon, they were butchered. The bodies, they were hardly recognizable. Big bites had been taken outta them; blood was everywhere. Another team found Steve about half a mile away, completely naked and shivering by the river.”

“Oh, my god,” you murmured. “That’s… That’s horrible.”

Your friend nodded gravely, but he wasn’t done yet.

“We all figured that it was a coyote that got ‘em,” he continued. “Or a wolf. But Steve… He was in shock, you see, so take what I’m about to say with a grain o’ salt. But all the way to the police station, he kept sayin’… He kept sayin’, ‘I didn’t mean to kill them… I didn’t mean to kill them.’

“O’ course, no one really believed him; it was clear that an animal had gotten to them, and this was Steve Rogers we were talking about. The kid had never said an unkind word to anyone. And his family got along great.

“A few years passed, and Steve was never the same, but we expected as much. Everyone was still nice to him, and he tried for a while, you know? But then Peggy moved into town.”

“Who’s Peggy?”

“She was this real nice girl – British. She moved with her family to the area. Shoot, she was a firecracker. Didn’t take any shit from nobody; the whole town fell in love with her. Including poor ol’ Stevie.

“When the two started dating, we were thrilled for ‘em. Steve was finally starting to act more like himself; you shoulda seen him. The kid was head over heels, and she was the same. About six months went by, and we really thought that they were gonna make it.

“But then…”

Earl swallowed thickly, eyes darting back up to your face before resting once again on his hands.

“Peggy was found one day in the woods, just like Steve’s parents – mauled, butchered…dead.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“No one saw or heard from Steve for years after that. The kid just vanished into thin air without warning. And so soon after Peggy’s death, well… You can imagine the rumors that started flying around about him. Five years went by, and that was when people started hearing and seeing strange things in the woods. And your cottage, it’s right by where the bodies were found; you can’t be more than a quarter of a mile from where they found Peg.

“Eventually, Steve moved back into town, though no one recognized him. He’d always been a skinny, lean kinda guy, but when he moved back, he looked like he does now. And even if he hadn’t changed so much on the outside, no one would’ve recognized the polite young man we’d all watched grow up in this new Steve. He was mean; I can’t tell you how many fights he got in at the bar, or how many times he lashed out at someone just to have an excuse to throw some punches.

“Whatever happened to his family and his girl, he’s never been the same since. And if he really believes what he told you earlier at the soda shop, then he’s finally lost his mind.”

___________

You spent the night at Earl’s house. He and his wife set up their guest bedroom for you, and as you and Sherry ate dinner, Earl called the sheriff. You listened in as he told him everything that Steve had done, including watching you the night before, and after ending the call, Earl gave you the sheriff’s number.

“He said to call him at the first sign of trouble,” Earl instructed. “And he said that he’s gonna head over to Steve’s cabin to have a nice, long talk with him. Don’t you worry; Sheriff Wilson is a tough son of a bitch, and he’s a great man. You’re in good hands with him.”

You thanked the couple profusely, and you were finally able to sleep restfully through the night, knowing that you weren’t alone. You didn’t even mind that you could hear Earl and Sherry’s snoring from all the way down the hall; you hadn’t had such a good night’s sleep in days.

The next morning, Sheriff Wilson stopped by after Sherry had served up breakfast, and you had to admit that you did feel better after talking to him.

“So I set everything straight with Steve,” Sam explained. “He said that he’d been drunk that morning at breakfast, and he admitted to saying some things that he regretted. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf, and he said that he would stay away from you from here on out, if it would make you more comfortable.”

“I’d be more comfortable if he moved to a different country altogether, but I’ll take it,” you’d joked weakly, coaxing a laugh out of the sheriff.

“Well, I’ll run it by him the next time we see each other,” he’d chuckled. “But for now, I think you’ll be just fine.”

After helping Sherry clean up from breakfast, you reluctantly got into your car and started back to your cottage, feeling your short-lived relief start to dwindle away as you approached your home. Who’s to say that Steve would stay true to his word? And there was something about the memory of him calling you ‘omega’ that didn’t sit well with you. You had no idea what that meant, but the conviction, the possessive, commanding tone in his voice still made shivers crawl up and down your spine.

Once you stepped into your cottage, you gave each room a cursory once-over, making sure nothing was out of place before plopping down onto your couch with your laptop. You were severely behind on work, and you needed the distraction to calm your nerves.

Before you knew it, the sun was starting to slip over the horizon, and as the evening turned to night, your eyelids started drooping. You’d finally managed to catch up on work, and although it took you until 9 o’clock at night, you were back on schedule with your blog.

Finally giving in to your sleepiness, you stood up and stretched before methodically going around to each door and window, making sure that they were all closed and locked. After once more checking that Steve wasn’t hiding in your wardrobe, shower, or backyard, you relaxed and went into your bedroom, changing into a flannel pajama set before crawling into bed.

Sleep came easily to you that night, but it didn’t stay for long.

_________

It was, once again, just after 3 in the morning when you woke up, although there was something different about this time around. There was an almost electric charge to the air, and it immediately made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You sat up in bed and looked around your room, and even though the curtains were still closed, just as you’d left them, you immediately noticed the smell.

Your hand fell onto your nightstand, blindly fumbling for your phone, but it wasn’t where you’d left it. Panic pierced through you, and you frantically reached for your charging chord, but it was no longer plugged into your cell. There was, however, something new sitting on your bedside table, and you flicked your lamp on to see clearly what it was.

Your blood went cold when you saw the paper bag from Earl’s, still filled with your new books, just as you’d left it in the art shop.

“I’d been meaning to give that back to you.”

A scream tore itself out of your lips, and your hand flew up to clap over your mouth as you turned to the man now leaning in your doorway.

Steve was watching you with an amused smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His hair was wild, and you noticed the way his chest rose and fell with quick, uneven breaths. He looked…unhinged, and Earl’s voice started ringing in your ears, telling you all the gory details about the deaths that had followed this man through his life.

“Steve, please,” you begged, pressing your back against your headboard. “I don’t know what you want-“

“Oh, c’mon,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you can put two and two together.”

With that, he pushed off of the wall and sauntered towards you, ignoring the way you trembled as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I read your blog, by the way,” he remarked. “I actually liked it; you’ve got a talent with writing.”

You gulped, not sure what to say as he turned to face you. For a moment, something flashed through his eyes, something other than the smug cynicism that usually dwelled there, but he looked away before you could get a good look at it.

“I’m sure Earl told you a lot of things about me,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry that’s how you had to hear them. But I’m not… I don’t want to hurt you. Honestly.”

“Wow, that really puts me at ease,” you grumbled. “It definitely makes the fact that you’ve broken into my house twice now totally ok.”

Steve huffed, and annoyance crossed his handsome features.

“Careful, omega,” he grunted. “I’m trying to be nice, here.”

You wanted to snap at him that he should really try harder, then, but you kept your mouth shut, knowing that you didn’t want to anger him if you didn’t have to.

“…Why do you keep calling me that?” you instead asked, and the fire in his gaze cooled just a bit.

“…I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he finally sighed. “And I can understand why this all sounds so crazy; if I were in your situation, I would probably think the same thing. But just… hear me out, ok? I’m going to tell you everything I know.”

You nodded, hugging your knees to your chest, and after another deep breath he began.

“I used to be normal, or so I thought,” he began. “I used to be like you; I didn’t know what was out there. I didn’t know that certain legends that we’ve all learned to accept as fiction were actually based on fact. But that all changed on my 18th birthday.

“That was the day that I first turned into a wolf.” Steve paused, looking pained for a moment, but after swallowing thickly he continued. “I had no clue what was happening to me. I just felt…wrong, like I was being torn apart from the inside. I fought to keep control of myself, but… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“People got hurt; I’m sure you’ve been told all the gritty details. But that wasn’t… It wasn’t me. I tried so hard, so goddamn hard, to keep it inside, bottled up, but eventually I couldn’t hold back anymore. And that was when I left.

“I went looking for people like me. It took me a while, but eventually I found a small group of them in New York. They called themselves the Howling Commandos.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“Not the name I would’ve chosen, but they were good people. They helped me control it, taught me how to remain myself even when I’m in my other form. And I learned more about what it means to be a, uh…

“Werewolf.”

You bit your lip, staring at him as you grew even more fearful; he believed this. You could tell by the way his eyes were glistening with barely-contained tears, and if you weren’t so terrified of him, you would feel sorry for how sad he looked.

“Steve, you… you must realize that this is hard for me to believe, right? I mean… This isn’t Twilight; this is the real world.”

He rolled his eyes at the mention of that book.

“There’s about a thousand things wrong with that fucking story, and I’ll die mad about it,” he muttered under his breath, and you hugged yourself tighter as he stood up.

“You want me to prove it to you? Fine.”

Steve stood still for a long moment, closing his eyes, and you found your gaze straying to the door behind his back. He was distracted, evidently focused on transforming into a fucking wolf, oblivious to you as you slowly moved to set your feet on the floor.

Now is your moment, your brain whispered, and after taking a deep breath, you leapt to your feet. You didn’t notice the way his skin was slowly starting to grow patches of blonde fur, nor did you register that his voice had become more of an animalistic growl as he realized that you were trying to run. You were solely focused on making it out alive.

The back door was closer to you than the front, and you could practically feel Steve’s breath on the back of your neck as he gave chase, and so you nearly yanked the door off of its rusty, old hinges as you went flying out onto the back porch. You just barely managed to close the door behind you, and right before it slammed shut, you were able to make out an open maw filled with sharp teeth. The same thumping you’d heard several nights ago sounded from within your home, but with the way the wood was creaking and splintering, you knew it wouldn’t keep Steve trapped inside for long.

You began to run towards your car, but with a curse you realized that your keys were still resting on your coffee table inside the cottage, and you wouldn’t go back inside there if someone offered you a million dollars to. So, fully aware of what a terrible idea it was, you started running down the length of your gravel driveway, the small stones and twigs digging into your feet until you felt them starting to grow slick with blood.

You didn’t get far at all before you heard the sound of a low, deep howl split the silence of the night, and you pumped your legs even faster when you heard heavy footfalls starting to give chase behind you. Frantically, you turned and made a beeline for the forest, hoping to lose him in the woods. Low branches and brambles clawed at your face, and the cuts on your feet burned so bad that tears started rolling down your cheeks.

It was simultaneously an eternity and a millisecond before you felt a massive weight crash into you from behind, and with a cry you fell onto your belly. Your arms and legs scrambled about as you tried to crawl away, but you stopped with another scream when a set of impossibly sharp teeth nipped at your shoulder. Even though they didn’t cut deep, it was still enough to scare you into submission, and you immediately went still as your captor panted above you.

Your chest rose and fell as you fought to catch your breath, but it felt as if your heart had stopped beating entirely when you chanced a look to your right and saw…a paw. A huge, sandy-blonde paw about the size of your head was planted in the mud right next to your neck. You turned, and on your left side was the same thing.

Slowly, you rolled over onto your back, and you found yourself face to face with the wolf from before, only this time, you were close enough to see its blue eyes clearly – Steve’s eyes.

“…Steve?” you breathed.

Before your disbelieving eyes, the animal hovering over you started to shift and change, morphing gradually back into the man who’d terrorized you so much up to this point. Except now, as he straddled your hips, completely nude, you knew that he’d been right all along.

“Still think I’m crazy?” he panted, still out of breath from the chase.

“I… How…”

“I tried to tell you,” he grumbled, leaning down. You squirmed when you felt him press his nose to your neck, nuzzling it as he inhaled deeply, and you whimpered when his cock twitched against your thigh. “God, you have no idea what your scent does to me.”

You made a small noise of protest when his tongue darted out, laving over a spot right under your jaw.

“I thought it was too good to be true, you know,” he groaned, and you let out a noise that was dangerously close to a moan as you realized you could smell him once again. “I thought that people had to be a werewolf to be an alpha or an omega, but as soon as I smelled you in the art shop… Fuck, I knew you were mine.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to protest, but you were silenced when Steve nipped at your neck.

“We both know that’s not true,” he chided. “We both know what my scent does to you.”

Steve dragged his teeth down the side of your neck, and you shivered at the sensation. You wanted to fight this; you didn’t want to give in to him. But something inside of you refused to do anything but lay there beneath him, panting as he tasted your skin.

“I’ve never been with an omega before,” he confessed. “The Commandos told me they were incredibly rare, a dying breed just like me. But fate must have brought us together for a reason.”

“I’m… I’m not an omega,” you insisted, but a soft mewl fell out of your lips when he ground his hips forward, the line of his cock sliding up the length of your clothed pussy.

“Then why do you have a mating gland?” he rasped, his tongue darting out to lick at a spot on your neck.

“A what?” you squeaked, but suddenly his hands were on your hips, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. His palms groped your ass, and suddenly you felt your pajamas being pulled down until they pooled around your knees.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Steve growled.

No, no, no. Your thoughts were swirling rapidly as Steve’s fingers slid down your spine. You didn’t want this; you weren’t an omega; Steve was crazy.

Why does your body want this so bad?

You couldn’t find the strength to try and crawl away when Steve’s hands left you, but your eyes widened when he suddenly spread your legs wider apart. The cold night air was icy against your cunt and your thighs, and when the warmth of his hands finally returned to your body, you couldn’t hold in your moan.

“That’s right, omega,” he panted, his hand reaching down to cup your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet; it’s already dripping down your thighs…”

Your pussy made an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as he pushed his finger inside, and your body’s reaction started drowning out your brain. As he thrust his finger in and out, your hips started pushing back against him as white noise echoed in your ears.

“Mmm,” you whined, clenching your teeth. “M-more, fuck-“

“More?” Steve cooed. “You want more?”

You nodded your head, and a gasp parted your lips as he added another finger, curling it in a way that had you seeing stars. Your legs spread wider, and you dropped to your elbows, pushing back in time with his hand.

“This is what you need,” he growled. “You need your alpha to take care of you, don’t you? To use your pretty little cunt and fill you up with my seed. Ain’t that right, doll?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, feeling your walls start to flutter around him.

All too soon, though, he pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. You burrowed your face into your arms and whined at the loss, but a few seconds later, Steve was gripping your hips. You could feel his fully hard length against your ass, and your breath caught in your throat upon feeling how big it was.

“W-wait-“

Steve shushed you, tangling one of his hands in your hair as the tip of his cock glided through your folds, brushing against your clit.

“It’s ok, omega,” he whispered. “Just lay back and take it.”

With that, his head pressed against your entrance, and your lips parted in a silent scream as he impaled you. Your cervix ached as his dick pressed against it, and you were vaguely aware of the broken moans falling out of your lips.

“Fuck, doll,” your alpha breathed, and you felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. “Feels so good, so fucking good. My good girl…”

You groaned when he drew his hips back and thrust forward again, jarring your whole body with the movement. Your teeth clenched together as he found his rhythm, the initial stretch still burning. You’d never felt anything like this before, and the pain was mixing with your pleasure until you couldn’t tell one from the other.

Slowly, as the minutes went by, your abused cunt started to adjust, and your moans became less and less strained as you once more felt pleasure start to crest within you.

“That’s it,” Steve praised, pushing your hair away so he could press a kiss to the side of your neck. “Just relax; let your alpha make you feel good.”

You whimpered as he started thrusting faster, his hips snapping as deep, gravelly growls spilled out of his throat. Your own moans filled the air as you once again felt your orgasm build up inside of you. Your pussy walls contracted and fluttered as you got closer and closer, and Steve’s hand came down hard on your ass.

“Go ahead, omega,” he commanded. “Cum for me; don’t hold back. Give it to me; let me feel it. Cum for me-“

With a wail, your body did as it was commanded, and you trembled as you reached your climax. Your cunt squeezed his cock as he slowed his thrusts, and your hips moved of their own accord as you rode it out. Quiet, hoarse moans were still trailing out of your mouth as you came down from your high, and Steve’s beard tickled your skin as he pressed kisses along the curve of your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he praised, and you were sickened to realize that you enjoyed his words of encouragement.

You were surprised when he pulled his cock out of you, and you allowed him to flip you over onto your back. His cheeks were flushed, and he was panting, and your eyes trailed down to see his cock still painfully hard.

Without warning, he shoved it back inside of you, and your hands flew up, digging your nails into his back as he once again started thrusting at a brutal pace.

“’M gonna fill your fucking pussy up,” he was moaning, his hair falling into his eyes while his mouth hung open. “Gonna breed you like the little bitch you are-“

Despite having just cum, shocks of pleasure spread through you as he filled you, and in this position, you could watch his muscles bulge and flex as he chased his release. His eyes were squeezed shut, and one of his hands was pawing and kneading at your breast as he used the other to support his weight. The veins in his neck throbbed as he grew closer and closer, and you were taken off guard to find that you were approaching your second climax with him.

“You already gonna cum again, baby?” he whispered. “Do it. Give it to me; I want it.”

You closed your eyes and arched up, frenzied moans of yes, please, God, more, I need more, spilling past your lips almost unintelligibly. You were so close – just a little more and you would be pushed over the edge.

Just before you could reach it, though, Steve’s eyes snapped open, focusing on your neck hungrily. You should have felt fear, knowing what he was, what had happened to his parent and his last lover. But instinct took over, and you found yourself tilting your head back, baring your neck to him in a sign of submission.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, and you shrieked as his teeth pierced your skin, right where he’d claimed earlier your ‘mating gland’ was. You closed your eyes, expecting to feel your life fade away, ready to see blood spurting up from the wound. But that never happened; no, instead you felt as if you’d just been electrified. Every sensation you were feeling was suddenly amplified tenfold, and your vision went black as you came for the second time.

Your ears were ringing, but you were still able to hear the primal roar that Steve let out as he came, painting your inner walls with his seed as hips finally slowed to a stop. For several long seconds, the two of you were perfectly still save for your chests as they rose and fell with your heavy breathing. Steve’s cock began to soften inside of you, but he made no move to pull away. No, instead he collapsed over you, his head resting against your chest as his heated skin shielded you from the cold air.

“You were perfect,” you heard him whisper, and one of his fingers came up to trace the bite mark he’d left behind on your neck. “Your bond scar is gonna be so gorgeous, little omega.”

Sleep threatened to overtake you as you lay there, not truly processing Steve’s words as his weight atop you lulled you towards sleep.

“Go ahead and rest, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll carry you back home, and then we can go again. Don’t worry, doll; I won’t stop until you’re nice and round with my babies.”

You should have felt scared – you should have pulled away and ran into the woods. But instead, you let out a content noise of acknowledgement before doing just as he said. The last thing you registered before slipping into a deep, dreamless slumber was his arms as they wrapped around you and picked you up, carrying you away from the road and into the forest.

[trashforhockeyguys]

Vienna Waits For You -2- William Nylander

ALL PREVIOUS PARTS ARE LINKED IN MY MASTERLIST

Avalyn’s hand flew across the page of her notebook as she glanced up at her laptop. She had half an hour before she was due in the conference room for her next advising session. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to it, but she wanted to prove that she was trying, that this was important to her. So she wanted to go in with as much information as she could, she wanted to show him. 

“Avey, what are you doing?” Jackson asked, plopping down on the floor next to her. 

“He knows Margot,” was her only response, the only thing she could think to say as she took notes on the game playing on her laptop. 

“What?”

“William. He knows Margot. Made it very clear what he thinks of me. So I’m trying to learn as much as I can before I go in.”

“Avalyn,” Jackson paused for a moment, “How does he know Margret?”

Avalyn shrugged, “She went to Sweden last summer. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter how I guess, just that he knows her.”

Jackson slid a hand over his face before letting out a couple of curses, “Well, either he decides she’s full of shit, or you’re fucked.”

“Wow Jacky, thanks. Really appreciate that.” 

Avalyn glanced back at her laptop, William dashes across the ice weaving between defensemen with ease. She wasn’t sure how she was going to win him over, or at least get him to drop some of his obvious hatred for her. All she knew was that she needed to find a way. She needed this job to work out more than he could ever imagine.

“Are you watching old game footage?” Jackson asked, peeking at her laptop. 

“Have to learn somehow,” She shrugged, “Besides, shouldn’t I try to get to know the players?”

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it then,” Jackson seemed to have a sense of pride as he got up and walked away from Avalyn. 

He didn’t expect her to take any of this as seriously as she was. But maybe that was because he really didn’t understand just how much she had at stake. Despite knowing her for almost their entire lives, Jackson knew Avalyn kept him at a distance. She tried to keep everyone from getting too close, no matter who they were. He always assumed it was her way to try to protect herself, so he never pushed her on it. Because at the same time, Jackson knew he was probably the only person Avalyn Bradshaw Kreitzburg let get even remotely close. He knew more about her than anyone else, he’d seen more. 

“If you ever want help,” Jackson said, turning back towards her, “You know you just have to ask.”

Avalyn smiled and nodded. She knew Jackson would do anything he could to help her. But she felt like this was something she needed to do on her own, without his help. He always helped her with everything, she wanted to stand on her own two feet. 

She was quick to get up when she saw one of the players walking towards her, “Thank you, seriously, Mitch.”

He shrugged and handed her two coffee cups and a paper bag, “I want this to work almost as much as you do. He’ll cave eventually, it’s Will, he doesn’t hold a grudge for long.”

She took a deep breath and nodded, “Seriously, thank you.”

“For what its worth, I think Willy is being a stupid dick,” He shrugged, “You seem pretty cool Avalyn Bradshaw Kreitzburg.”

Avalyn couldn’t help but laugh, “You too, Mitchell Marner.”

Inside the ballroom turned ground zero for the show, William sat waiting for his ‘partner’. Truthfully part of him hoped she would request someone else. He wouldn’t even mind working with one of the other girls in the cast. He wasn’t against girls in hockey, far from it. William was actually excited for his sisters to have a show like this to watch, he just wished Avalyn Bradshaw Kritzburg wasn’t involved in it. 

He was scrolling through his Instagram feed when a cup was gently put in front of him, “Morning.”

He glanced at the Tim Hortons cup, and then up at Avalyn. Unlike some of the other cast members, she still looked like she just walked off of a set, with her hair perfectly done and so much makeup that he didn’t think anyone could even see her actual skin. He almost wanted to laugh. 

“Thanks but no thanks,” He snorted, “I have a specific order.” 

“Yeah, I uh- I know,” She said, taking the seat across from him, “I asked Auston, since Jackson has been spending time with him, and Auston and Mitch grabbed it on their way in this morning. Think of it as a half assed peace offering.” 

He narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, William wasn’t going to give in, “I don't want anything from you. But nice try.”

Avalyn felt anger boil inside her. She was tired of always having to do what other people wanted, having to be who they wanted. She was done with playing the perfect little Hollywood princess who did everything she was told. 

“I don’t give a damn what you want,” She snapped, “Because despite what you might think, I need this show to work. And I know for a fact that you want what’s best for the sport. I know you have sisters, don’t you want them to be represented in a show like this? This is about more than just me.” 

“Yeah, whatever. There are other girls in the show that play hockey.”

Avalyn shook her head. Her chest felt like it was going to cave in, he wasn’t going to budge. He wouldn’t meet her in the middle. She didn’t want to have to go back home with her tail between her legs and have to listen to her managers yell at her for defying them. They didn’t even act like her parents, everything was business to them now. What did it matter if Avalyn was happy, so long as she was making money and continuing to keep up her good reputation that they carefully crafted for her. 

“Do you even care enough to try to learn my side of the story?” She asked, wishing the tears that started to burn her eyes would just go away, “You say you know what happened, but do you really? You know Margret’s side, not mine or Jackson’s. Did she tell you what I gave up to protect her all of those years? What Jackson and I both did so she wouldn’t have to?”

His silence made her laugh, bitterly, coldly, nothing like the laugh that the world knew. Nothing of the girl who wore her heart on her sleeve for the whole world to see, this girl was cold, broken. It almost hurt William. 

“Of course she didn’t,” Avalyn added, “You can hate me, that’s fine. You can want to hurt me because of whatever she said, I don’t care. But don’t jeopardize this show by not doing what you all said you would. We actors, we can find more work. A lot of us have jobs lined up for when we aren’t shooting here, but there’s a whole crew that don’t have that opportunity. They need this show to get picked up so they can support their families. So please, help me not fuck this up so they can be supported.”

The words felt like a bullet to William’s gut, but he couldn’t bring himself to say or do anything. He looked around but leaned back further. He knew his mother would be ashamed of him, his father would probably have his head. Not to mention his little sisters, who loved all of Jackson and Avalyn’s movies. But despite all of it, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. 

“Maybe you’re the selfish prick,” She said in disbelief, before tossing the bag across the table, “I had them get your breakfast order too, I didn’t know if you stopped. I was hoping we could break bread, but I guess I’m just stupid and naive.” 

He watched as she grabbed her things and walked over to where the directors and procedures sat with Coach Babcock. Her hands moved as she talked, he wondered if she did that all of the time. One of the procedures put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a sad face, and then motioned to the door. Before she left she stopped off at Jackson’s table, giving a small wave to Freddie, before leaning down to tell her friend something. 

William felt like an utter dick, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder if she deserved it. Wasn’t she used to getting everything she wanted? She was Hollywood’s little darling, she grew up having everything handed to her. She could throw a tantrum all she wanted, he didn’t want to give her this. 

Avalyn was quick to throw her hair into a messy ponytail and pull a baseball hat on. She wasn’t about to call the driver back, or try to get a cab. More than anything, she wanted to just be able to walk and feel like a normal adult. Her apartment wasn’t too far away from the hotel, surely she could make it without anyone noticing her. 

No one knew she was in Toronto, news hadn’t broken yet that the show had started production, so she should be safe. She took a deep breath of the crisp air and slipped on her aviator sunglasses before taking off down the street. 

Somehow she would find a way to make all of this work. Going back home wasn’t an option, not after all the things her parents said when she auditioned for the show, let alone when she actually took the role. She knew they were waiting for her to fail, they seemed sure she would without them. But for once, Avalyn wanted to prove that she could do all of this on her own, without their help.

Walking the streets of Toronto by herself made her feel small, but in a good way. In a way she wasn’t used to. Avalyn has been treated like she was larger than life since she was a kid, the only people who really knocked her back down to size were her parents, who constantly told her she would be nothing without them. Not that Avalyn ever really let the whole fame thing get to her, she had a grip on reality, she knew life was about more than just her and movies. 

Still, Avalyn just wanted to be in her apartment, away from the world. She wanted to be able to block out everyone and everything just for a little while. Maybe she would turn off her phone, so no one could bother her. Jackson would know where to find her if it was really an emergency, her team would know to call Jackson for the same reason. Maybe listening to music on full blast while she ate more junk food than she should was exactly what she needed.

Hours later, William sat in Auston’s apartment, along with Mitch and Jackson Portland. A few of the other guys left not long ago, leaving the four of them to fight over who was going to play the next round of NHL. William hadn’t noticed how cool Jackson seemed to be, he fit in with the rest of the team like he’d been a member for years. He understood hockey because he played it, sure he wasn’t able to fully grasp the professional lifestyle, but he understood the pressures of the media and the fans.

“We need to get you on the ice sometime dude,” Mitch said, elbowing Jackson. 

“I haven’t had time to really skate in a while, it probably won’t be pretty,” Jackson laughed, “But name the time and place. Should probably get my legs back before the rest of the cast starts on ice training.”

William couldn’t help but laugh, “I’d pay good money to see some of them try to skate.”

“Avey is actually pretty fast,” Jackson shrugged, “She used to come hang out at the rink with me before I had to quit to focus on acting.”

Auston and Mitch started having their own conversation over who was going to order food and what kind they were going to get. William was left with Jackson, who seemed to be debating on whether or not he wanted to say more about Avalyn or not. 

“You know, she’s busting her ass trying to figure all of this shit out,” Jackson casually mentioned, “I’ve never seen her work for a role like this before. She’s doing it without the support of her team too.”

“Her what?”

“Her managers, or her parents. They’re one and the same, personally I think they stopped being her parents a long time ago. Her media team, publicist...all of them think this is a really bad idea. The show isn’t projected to be a massive success, more like a small indie cult following.” 

“So why the hell is she here then? Didn’t she have anything better to do?” William shot back. 

Jackson shrugged, “She believes in the script. Avalyn can spot a good story from a mile away, but she’s never fought to be a part of something the way that she has for this. Normally her team tells her no and she backs down, but not this time. She got on a plane and left, without their approval. She signed the contracts on her own...she’s doing this all by herself.”

“So why not just give up?” William asked. 

“Why didn’t you give up during the contract negotiations? I assume it’s because you love what you do. It’s the same thing for her, she loves her job, and she loves the other people that work to make it happen.”

Jackson got up from his spot on the couch to grab another beer, “You know, her apartment is two floors up. She’s probably going cross eyed from trying to figure out exactly how game play works.”

“Two floors up?” 

“She’s more likely to let you in if you bring her chocolate ice cream,” There was a hint of a smile on Jackson’s face, “Give her a chance, she’s not what you might think. She just hasn’t been allowed to be herself in a really really long time.”