#he was all 'write a story about a harley riding tattooed man'

[smileysuh]

you're SO RIGHT- Mark just... if anyone is a slow burn man it's him, and I love him for it 😩

real talk

🌙 starring. Mark Lee x afab!Reader

🔮 preview.“You’re Jeno���s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, reader has a hard time cumming, oral (f/m receiving), Mark is a MUNCH, deep throating, fingering, masturbation, use of toys/vibrator, dirty talk, praise, Mark is a simp, sex realism, overthinking during sex, mentions of sexual favours in return for affection, a string of bad ex-lovers, breast worship, creampies, aftercare, finger sucking, drunkenness, etc… I pet names: (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.4k

🍭 aus. Restaurant au, line chef!Mark, slow burn, coworkers to lovers, fuck girl who looks like sunshine meets a serial monogamist who looks like a fuckboy, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I wanted to touch on some realism to kick off the year. Not everything is as easy during sex as it appears in fanfic/p*rn, so I wanted to make something that might be more true to the real experience of afabs who overthink and need extra help to cum- I hope maybe this fic can normalize girls who need some extra machine power to get off ;)

One:

Mark has only been working at his new restaurant for two weeks, but he’s already fallen in love with the place. Morning shifts have been good for him.  With the help of his favorite expo girl - who always takes the time to explain small details and things he’s been messing up on - he’s already gotten used to the menu. Every day feels better and better.

“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” you grin, inspecting the plate. 

When he’d first been hired, the fish he’d cut had come out mangled, but after talking him through it, you’d both realized it had been a knife issue. Sharpening his blade had led to Mark perfecting his slices, and now, he eagerly awaits your praises when he puts his food up in the expo window. 

Mark’s eyes follow you as you dart off toward the bar, the plate of tuna balanced perfectly in your hand. The new chef can’t help the smile that works its way onto his lips, and he leans forward, hand flat on the cutting board station in front of him.

“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” Hyuck’s annoying voice snaps him out of his trance, and Mark turns to look at the man next to him. “God, can you two make it any more obvious that you’re into each other?”

“She’s just doing her job,” Mark assures the other line chef, but he can feel his skin heating at the idea.

“Sure she is. But she doesn’t compliment my cooking as much as she does yours.” Hyuck crosses his arms over his chest, letting out a sigh as his gaze shifts to the view through the expo line. You’re at the bar now, chatting with the man who you’ve just served. However, you’re taking longer than normal, and you’re smiling a lot too.

“No fucking way,” Hyuck breathes, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “That guy is hitting on her.”

“Is he?” Mark also dips his head toward the expo window, eager for a look.

“Yeah, mans just slipped her his number,” Hyuck laughs. “That’s our little Sunshine though, isn’t it? This restaurant is her playground.”

“What do you mean?” Mark asks.

“Just that she’s quite popular,” Hyuck brushes it off as you approach the expo line again. “Did you get a number, sweet thing?”

“Why, you jealous?” You grin, holding up the slip of paper with digits on it. 

“You wish,” Hyuck scoffs, but Mark gets the feeling there’s something else going on between the two of you, something unspoken. He’s still getting used to the dynamic of the restaurant, and in work spaces like this, relationships aren’t uncommon. He wonders what history you have with Hyuck, wonders what chance he has with you- wonders if it’s even a good idea.

Two

“Luna never runs her own food,” Sumi notes, standing with you by the entrance to the restaurant while you watch the tall waitress lean against the expo window. “I know that our new chef is cute, but, damn.”

“She can do what she wants,” you laugh, wiping down menus. “Makes my job easier.”

“You know, it’s kind of felt like you and Mark have some sort of understanding,” Sumi grins, moving close enough that your hips touch by the host station. “He watches you a lot.”

“Does he?” Your gaze moves back to the expo line.

“Uh huh, almost as much as Hyuck does- which, by the way, you sure did a number on him.”

“Hyuck will get over it, he’s a fuck boy,” you wave your hand. “I’m great at attracting that kind of guy.”

“Do you get fuck boy vibes from Mark?” Sumi wonders, tapping her pen against the top of her Ipad thoughtfully.

“He’s definitely cute enough to be a womanizer, don’t you think?”

“Key word being cute,” Sumi points out. “I don’t know, he doesn't give me fuck boy vibes like the other line chefs do.”

“Well, he’s roommates with Jeno, isn’t he?” Your eyes move to the bar. Jeno’s a night bartender, but his close friend, Renjun is working today. “Jeno’s a fuck boy, he got Hyuck and Jaemin jobs here. They’re both fuck boys. It would make sense if Mark was that kind of guy too.”

“I’m still not convinced,” Sumi states, crossing an arm over her chest. “Speaking of men though- whatever happened to that guy who gave you his number the other day? Are you actually considering a date with him?”

“I already had a date with him,” you admit. 

“Yikes, from the way you haven’t mentioned it at all, I’d guess it didn’t go so well?”

“Meh,” you shrug your shoulders. “He won’t be getting a second date.”

“How many first dates have you been on this year?” Sumi asks. “Didn’t you say it was like… a lot?”

“Too many to count,” you giggle. 

“So what’s the deal with that? Like- what’s your type? I know you were seeing Hyuck for a little while, how come that didn’t work?”

“It just didn’t,” you say, looking down at the menus you’ve wiped clean. “I try not to think about my failures too much.”

“Really? But you could learn so much from them,” Sumi frowns. “I mean- look at me and Doyoung. I was never into the more serious types, always went for fuck boys and younger guys- but after some soul searching, I realized I needed someone older who had their shit together.”

“You also have a thing for guys in powerful positions, and Doyoung is literally one of our managers,” you point out.

“Well, I’m still a work in progress,” Sumi winks. “Anyways- think about it. If you look at your dating patterns, you might be surprised by what you find.”

Three

There’s nothing like the air outside after being in a hot kitchen for a few hours. The lunch rush is finally over, and after having a 20 top that ordered an insane amount of food with an even crazier amount of modifications and allergies, Mark is ready to take a massive puff from his vape pen.

He stands by the back exit to the restaurant, looking out at the cars on the street as he takes a long drag. As he inhales, the door behind Mark opens, and he turns to come face-to-face with you.

The shock of seeing you makes him choke a little, and he begins to cough out a large puff of smoke. Mark’s lungs burn, and his skin feels even hotter, enflamed by the embarrassment of you seeing him take a crappy hit when in reality, he’s a vaping veteran. 

“You good?” you ask, reaching out and gently rubbing his back as you step past him.

“Yeah, I, uh-” Mark’s entire body tingles at the physical contact. “Sorry, you just surprised me.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” you grin, stopping in front of him. He notices the way your eyes go to his vape pen, and he immediately holds it out to you.

“Want some?”

“I mean, if you’re offering.” You reach out and accept the sleek black vape. “What’s the flavor?”

“Uh… cotton candy?” God, Mark feels like a fool, especially when you raise a brow at him. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

“Didn’t peg you as a sweet tooth type,” you grin, bringing the refillable device to your lips. Mark watches you take a drag, focusing on your mouth and the way you look sucking on something- he starts to imagine what you’d look like sucking on something else, something substantially bigger. 

As you exhale, you cough a little, and Mark wonders if you’re doing that to make him feel better about his screw-up a moment ago- or maybe you simply don’t vape often, he’s not too sure. 

“Thanks,” you say, still coughing as you hand the vape back to Mark. Your fingers brush gently as he accepts it from you, and as Mark brings the device to his mouth, he’s extremely aware of the fact that your lips had just been where his now are. 

He wonders if it means anything that you’d be so willing to swap spit like this, even on something as innocent as a vape pen. 

“How long are you here till?” you ask, breaking him from his daze. 

“Started at seven am, eight-hour shift, should be off around three when the night cross-over guys come in,” Mark explains. 

“Any fun plans for tonight?” you continue to press. “It is a Friday after all.”

“No plans, will probably just go home, make some food, and watch Netflix all night… what about you?”

You sigh. “No hot dates, unfortunately. Will probably do the same as you. Do you have any good show recommendations? I’ve been looking for something new.”

“I mean, it depends, what are you into?” Mark asks, eager to hear more about your tastes, your likes and dislikes- he knows so little about you, mostly things related to work. He’s curious about what you do in your downtime, and he’s grateful he has an opportunity like this to get to know you even a little bit better.

As you part your lips to respond, the back door swings open, and Hyuck steps out, already mid-puff of his neon orange vape. 

“Oh,” the line chef grins, exhaling through his nose and flashing a grin, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you respond quickly, and Mark notes the shift in your energy, “I was just leaving actually.”

“See you later,” Mark offers, watching you hurry off. 

“Classic her,” Hyuck sighs, coming to stand next to Mark.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s a runner, that one,” Hyuck takes another puff from his vape.

“So you two definitely used to date,” Mark states. The interaction he’s just witnessed verifies his suspicion, and since they’re technically outside of work/the kitchen, Mark feels able to actually discuss this now.

“I don’t know if I’d call it dating,” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, eyes still fixed on you where you’re crossing the street a couple hundred feet away. “Look, do you want real talk? You wanna know about your favorite expo girl?”

“Yeah, I wanna know.” Mark lifts his vape to his lips, readying himself for whatever is about to come out of Hyuck’s mouth.

“I know she looks like sugar and sunshine, but I hate to burst your bubble Mark- she’s a bit of a fuck girl, that one.” 

“It takes one to know one,” Mark points out.

“Touche, but to be fair, I never claimed to be anything other than a guy who likes pussy, and little miss sunshine knew that when we started hooking up a few months ago.” Hyuck lets out another large puff of smoke into the air. “Look, I said I’d give you real talk so here it is. She’s got a lot of expectations. Girl reads those horny romance books-”

“Erotica.”

“Yeah, that’s it, erotica.” Hyuck nods to himself. “Well, she reads erotica, and her ideas about fucking are kind of hard to make real. She’s too in her head all of the time. Apparently - and don’t repeat this anywhere - but apparently no guy she’s fucked has ever made her actually cum. She has this thing where someone told her that if a guy doesn’t make you cum, he doesn’t add to your body count, so allegedly her body count is zero and she’s a virgin, but we both know it’s a lot higher than that.” 

“The whole body count thing doesn’t phase me,” Mark says quietly, although the wheels in his head are spinning.

“Sure it doesn’t,” Hyuck scoffs. “Just listen, if you’re into her, it’s not going to work out. She’s not for beginners like you.”

“Beginners like me?” Mark side eyes the line chef.

“You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”

Four

“Mark?” you ask, looking at the takeout bowl in front of you.

“Yeah?” he leans forward, lips parting as he waits for your judgment.

“Didn’t they order the spicy yogurt on the side?” You push the rice bowl forward, pointing at the lines of orange tinted cream that cover the veggies. 

“Shit,” Mark cusses, grabbing the chit-paper receipt and scanning it. “There were like, three other modifications, I didn’t even see the yogurt on the side.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “It’s takeout, and there’s pretty much no one in the restaurant, so you have time to make another… besides, I’ll just take this one as my lunch.”

One of the perks of the job is getting to take home the food that’s not correct. You’d been dreading going to the grocery store, your fridge empty of easy meals, but now you don’t have to make the trek, and you’re more than happy about it.

“You know, Mark, you’re my favorite new chef.” He’s also the only new chef, and you’ve been reaping the rewards of minor fuck ups the past two weeks. 

Mark, however, doesn’t seem to note your teasing, and he offers you a genuine smile. “You’re my favorite expo girl.”

“Yeah?” you grin. “And why’s that?”

“You’re really nice about things I mess up,” Mark’s eyes shift to the dragon bowl you’re packing up. “Like, you point things out, and you turn them good. As you said, it’s an easy fix, I have the time, and now you get to eat that.” 

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, that’s for sure,” you laugh. 

“You’re also pretty happy most days, always makes me happy to come in and see our Little Miss Sunshine.” 

“Jeeze, not you calling me that pet-name too,” you roll your eyes. Hyuck had taken to calling you that a few months ago, and somehow the title had stuck. Mark was the only chef using your real name, but it looks like those days might already be behind you.

“It fits,” Mark assures you. “I think it’s cute.”

“Does it fit because I’m cute?” 

You notice the way Mark immediately swallows thickly, his skin turning a pretty shade of pink. “Uh- I mean, yeah,” his voice cracks, and he fiddles with his sleeves, pushing them up to his elbows, “you’re cute-”

“Oh my God-” you stare at his forearms, which are usually covered by his chef coat. “Have you always had all those tattoos?!”

“Did you really never notice these?” Mark looks down at his arms, lifting them so you can see the details.

“I have never noticed them,” you confirm, leaning forward. “Damn, how many tattoos do you have?!”

“A lot?” Mark’s tattoos are patchwork style, all black. They litter his forearms, and you wonder how high up the markings go- you wonder if his chest is covered, or his back- what about his legs?

“I need a tattoo tour,” you insist.

“I mean… I can’t show you all of them-” Mark says sheepishly. 

“Start with that one,” you point at a tattoo of three letters near his inner elbow, “What’s SSG mean?”

“So uh- the first restaurant I worked in, a few of us dishwashers worked our way into the kitchen with no formal training or anything- just started at the bottom, and went up from there. One of us came up with the idea of being the Soapy Suds Gang, like- dishwashers to chefs. Was at that restaurant from the age of fifteen to twenty, and when it closed down cuz the owners just didn’t wanna be in the business anymore, me and all the others got the matching SSG tattoo.”

Mark is adorable. Like, shockingly so. It’s such a stupid yet endearing story- and for some reason, it feels so on-brand for Mark. 

He begins to tell you about a few other tattoos. There’s a shotgun to commemorate his years playing Call of Duty online with friends. A cartoon puppy because apparently his mom never let him get a dog - something about him not being able to handle it if the dog ever died - so when he turned eighteen, he got a dog that could never bite the bullet, etched into his skin with black ink. 

All the marks have meaning, stories that make up the groundwork of Mark’s life. 

“What about that one?” you ask, noting a King of Hearts tattoo that he’d skipped over.

“Oh, uh…” Mark rubs the back of his neck shyly. “My ex-girlfriend wanted a Queen of Hearts tattoo, so I got this one, and… I mean, I don’t regret it, I was with the girl for three years- but, it’s not a tattoo I talk about too often.”

“Three years?” you ask in shock. “You were with your last girlfriend for three years?”

“Why do you sound so shocked?”

“It’s just- I mean,” you lick your lips, leaning in so Mark’s the only one who can hear you, “I hate to say it, Mark, but you look like a total fuck boy.”

“I’m really not,” Mark admits. 

“Even before your last ex?”

“Even before,” the line chef confirms. “I’ve got two ex-girlfriends. The last one ended about a year ago, dated her from age twenty-two to twenty-five. Had a girlfriend from when I was sixteen to twenty-one-”

“So a three-year relationship and a five-year relationship?” 

This gossip keeps getting juicier and juicier. 

“Yeah. The first one moved to another country to teach English, and I’ve never been that into long distance. We tried to make it work, but we agreed the best thing was to let each other go. Then the last girl decided she wanted more from life than some line chef so…” Mark trails off and you feel your heart hurt for him. “Anyways, what about you? How many relationships have you had?”

“A lot more than you,” you answer quickly, although, that’s only if you count one-night stands, flings, and situationships, but you won’t go into those details with Mark right now. “I mean… are you looking for anything right now?”

“What do you mean?” Mark cocks his head to the side.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but… a few of the waitresses are into you,” you whisper.

“Really?” he looks past you at the restaurant, and you see him trail Luna with his eyes. “That’s nice and everything, but waitresses really aren’t my type.”

“Then what’s your type?”

“Expo girls.” 

His words hit you in your chest, and you can feel your pulse quicken immediately.

“I mean-” Mark���s skin has returned to that pretty pink colour. “My first girlfriend- the five-year one, she was the expo girl when I met her- we got close cuz we spent so much time together. I didn’t mean you- I wasn’t trying to hit on you or anything- not that I don’t think you’re cute, cuz you’re definitely cute- fuck.”

You watch him, smiling and completely amused. It appears you’d read the new line chef all wrong. He’s not a fuck boy, he’s a lover boy, and you kind of adore that about him.

“I should uh- I need to remake this dragon bowl-” Mark turns away from you, and you watch him scurry off to the fridge to grab vegetables. 

You’re kind of hoping to tease him so more when he returns, but before he does, Doyoung appears from the back, and he waves you over. “It’s been dead for half an hour,” your manager notes, “you’re cut. Head home, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Five

Mark hasn’t been able to stop thinking about your conversation. All night, he’d had you on his mind- and he’d kind of been hoping to get to talk to you today, but you have the day shift and this is one of his first nights scheduled.

Even so, Mark arrives to work thirty minutes early just on the off chance he’ll catch you, and as he’s waiting outside the backdoor, hitting his vape, his hopes come true.

You step out of the back of the restaurant, looking down at your phone. The jacket you’re wearing today is vibrant in contrast to your all-black uniform, and the comfy sneakers you always put on after your shift in flats are beginning to look a little worn out now that winter is almost over. 

“Hi,” Mark says, drawing your attention.

“Oh,” you put your phone into your pocket, offering him a smile. “Hey- you just starting?”

“In ten minutes or so,” the line chef nods. “I uh- I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

“Apologize for what?” You cock your head to the side. 

“All of it?” Mark suggests.

You laugh, and the sound does things to Mark that he’ll never be able to express. “Seriously, we’re all good,” you assure him. “I think you’re pretty cute too, so, don’t worry about any of it.”

Mark’s mouth feels dry, and it’s not just from the vaping. He fiddles with the device in his hand, working up the courage to say what’s on his mind. “I was wondering- I mean, it sounds like you’re still on the market and all- so I was thinking, maybe, if you’d like- maybe we can go out sometime, or something- but no pressure.”

Your smile widens, and you step closer to him. “What would going out with you look like?”

“Honestly…” Mark swallows thickly, “it would look more like staying in. Since we both work in a restaurant- or maybe it’s just a ‘me thing’, but I’m not super into drinks as a first date, or even food- I’m a bit of a homebody. I’d love for you to just come over, watch some netflix, talk- that sort of shit.”

You look him up and down, and Mark’s body tenses as he waits for your response.

“That actually sounds pretty nice,” you admit. “Here, give me your hand.”

Mark holds out his palm, watching you pull out a Sharpie from your pocket. You write your phone number across his skin. “Careful,” you say, as you draw the last digit, “Don’t wash this off or anything.”

“I won’t,” he assures you, already planning on taking a picture of it with his phone just in case. 

“I should get going, but yeah- text me when your shift is over and we can figure something out.” 

“You got it,” Mark grins, unable to hold in his excitement any longer. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” 

With one final exchange of eye contact that makes Mark’s heart lurch in his chest, you walk off, the line chef’s eyes following you all the way out of sight. 

As he turns to head inside, Mark bumps into Hyuck. “Don’t go in just yet,” Hyuck insists, “stay out here and vape with me for a minute.”

It’s hard for Mark to focus on anything Hyuck is saying about the afternoon rush, but he manages to nod and make sounds of affirmation while his coworker rants about some party of fifteen that walked in and only ordered appetizers. 

“Mark, you’re not paying attention,” Hyuck sighs.

“Sorry, I’m just kind of-” Mark swallows the lump in his throat, “yeah, I’m distracted.”

“Got a hot date?”

“What?” Mark looks up.

“Someone wrote their digits on your hand,” Hyuck grabs at Mark’s wrist, “let’s see-”

Mark tries his best to pull away, but Hyuck’s already assessing the phone number. After a moment, the younger man lets go, his mouth forming a firm line. “I warned you about her.”

Mark’s surprised that Hyuck - who has the memory of a goldfish most days - clearly recognizes your phone number. 

“I told you she’s not for beginners.” 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have to listen to you,” Mark insists. “And not everything is about fucking. She’s gonna come over, we’re gonna watch movies- nothing has to happen. I just want to know her better.”

“Lover boy,” Hyuck scoffs, “she’s going to eat you up, and spit you back out.”

“And if she does, then that’s my choice,” Mark says firmly. “I know she fucked you over or whatever, but that doesn’t mean anything to me, Hyuck. I’m sorry, but I really don’t care about what happened between the two of you.”

“Ouch, dude.”

“If she’s as bad as you say, then you can say you told me so when this is all over. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Six

“So this is Jeno’s famous fuck pad,” you tease, stepping into Mark’s apartment and looking around. 

“Uh, he doesn’t actually bring girls here that often,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “He likes to go to their place, makes it easier to run than kicking a girl out the next morning, you know?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod… you usually fuck guys in their homes for the same reason. “It’s a nice place.”

“Thanks, my ex had a lot to do with the decor and shit.” Now that Mark mentions it, the vibe definitely doesn’t scream ‘boy’, and it especially doesn't scream ‘home of a line chef and bartender.’ 

The cream-colored couch in the living room has pretty sage pillows, there’s a tasteful rug under a circular coffee table. On the table are three candles varying in size, as well as a design book that you’d bet has never been opened or looked at in detail by the men who live here.

It’s a comfortable home, but you wonder what it feels like for Mark to live in a space that constantly reminds him of an ex who ditched him for not having his own shit together.

“I didn’t realize Jeno was a tidy guy,” you note, thinking back to the line of dirty cups he always allows to build up in the bar dish area. 

“He’s not, but I am.” Mark enters the living room, and he takes a seat on the couch, kicking his legs up onto a small puff stool next to the coffee table. “I guess when you work on the line, you’re used to doing little clean-up jobs to keep everything smooth. I don’t mind moving two or three beer cans to the sink every day if it means there aren’t any piles building.” 

So he’s a sexy line chef, with tattoos, who likes long-term relationships, and also cleans up his home? Mark really is a catch amongst flounders.

“Are you going to come sit?” Mark asks, noting the way you stand at the edge of the room. “Or, shit, should I offer you a drink first? We’ve got beer, or I could make you a cocktail or something-”

“I’m good, just… getting used to this.” 

It feels kind of odd to be with Mark in a casual setting. You’ve only ever seen him in a professional manner, with an expo station between you both- now, Mark is right in front of you, and as you sit on the couch next to him, you’re hyper-aware of the way your thighs almost touch.

“So… Netflix?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Mark grabs the remote, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up so you can see his forearms. 

“You still haven’t given me a full tattoo tour,” you tease, reaching out to gently trace the puppy etched against his skin.

“Maybe that’s a date number two sort of thing,” Mark suggests, tugging the fabric down to cover his skin.

Your grin widens. “Do I make you nervous, puppy boy?” 

“Definitely,” he lets out a shy laugh, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob with the effort of swallowing. “So uh… what do you wanna watch?”

You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the couch. “Surprise me.”

“Well, there’s this anime I’ve been wanting to get into-” Mark finds the show in his ‘to watch’ list.

“Let's do it.”

“Really? You’re down?”

“Uh huh, I’m not that picky,” you nod, offering him a smile.

“It can be…” he starts the first episode, “like- if you wanna keep doing this sort of thing, it could be our show.”

“That actually sounds nice,” you admit. You suppose it shouldn’t be a shock that Mark is thinking long term- you do work together after all, but when you’d been seeing Hyuck, every day was a question of longevity. Would he call? Would he not call?

Hyuck never talked in definitives. He never made promises. The only true thing you could count on was seeing him at work three of five days of the week when your schedules aligned, and he never locked himself in for any more than that. 

“Should I-” Mark licks his lips, “I mean, finding a show was way easier than I thought it would be. Do you want a drink? I’ve got chips?”

“I’m okay, but if you want something, you should grab it.”

“I’m good if you’re good,” Mark mutters, leaning back against the couch. Your shoulders are touching, and you’re already finding it difficult to focus on the tv screen as the anime begins to play.

You’re aware of each breath, each slight shift of Mark’s body. “Are you comfortable?” he asks after a short while.

“I mean, we could probably find a more comfortable position than this one,” you note. 

“Like… do you wanna cuddle?”

“If you want to, I’d be up for that.”

“Okay, one sec,” Mark turns, grabbing at the back cushion of the couch. He tosses it to the side. “I can big spoon you.”

In under a minute, Mark is settling behind you, pillows are adjusted, and a gentle hand finds your hip. You wiggle slightly, trying to get snug against the line chef’s chest. 

“Is this good?” he asks, his breath ghosting by your ear.

“It’s nice, but let me just…” you grab his hand, threading your fingers and bringing it up to your chest, so you’re truly wrapped in his embrace. You can feel his heart against your spine, and you can hear the way his breath catches. “That’s better,” you let out a sigh of relief. 

The anime is fun, but you’re much too focused on Mark. Something tells you he’s quite focused on you as well, and finally, your patience snaps. You roll onto your back, looking up at him.

“You good?” he prompts.

“Uh huh. Just thinking.”

“About?”

You shrug. “I guess maybe I’m just wondering what work is going to be like tomorrow.”

“Hopefully busy.”

You laugh at how innocent Mark can be. “I mean in terms of cuddling with you tonight, then working together in the morning.”

“I mean… how was it with Hyuck when you two were seeing each other?” 

Your heart clenches. “Oh… he uh… he told you about that, huh?”

“Mentioned it once or twice.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“For the most part,” Mark nods. “But just so you know- I don’t take everything Hyuck says seriously. You two had something going on, but every relationship is different. I’m sure you have your own side to the story. I know you’re a good person - that’s what my heart tells me at least - so that’s what I’m going off of.”

You stare up at the line chef. The man you’d pegged as a fuck boy, who is turning out to be the farthest thing from a womanizer that you’ve ever met.

You can’t help but reach up and cup his face. There aren’t words that come to mind, but you hope your expression shows your gratitude for his kindness.

Mark’s gaze dips to your mouth, and you watch the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on his slightly. “So no pressure or anything,” he says, voice cracking, “but uh… can I kiss you?”

“You can kiss me,” you confirm, staying still and waiting for the precious man to make his move. Part of you is scared to take control- you’re worried about scaring Mark off, like you’d scare off a wild bird with one wrong muscle twitch. 

You’re still cupping his face, and Mark mirrors the act, gently cupping your cheek. He looks down at you, searching your eyes for a moment. You wonder if he’s looking for any hesitation, any sign that you regret your affirmative answer. Then he looks at your lips, and you can see some of the tension leave his body.

In fact, you see the exact moment Mark decides to give in to his desires. His lips part ever so slightly, his brown eyes shyly meeting your own as he begins to move in closer-

As his mouth presses to your own, you realize this might be the softest kiss a man has ever bestowed upon you. He’s not trying to shove his tongue down your throat- not biting at your lip and asking for entrance. It’s a simple brush of lips on lips, and it leaves you wanting more.

Your hand finds the back of his neck, and you drag him closer, letting out a small mewl. You capture his bottom lip between your own, suckling on it gently-

Mark pulls away, and your eyes open. You’re disappointed, but when you notice Mark breathing heavily, your annoyance dissipates.

“Was that okay?” you ask, worrying that maybe you’d been going too fast for the soft man.

“Yeah- better than okay,” he assures you. 

“Can we… can you kiss me again?”

“Uh huh,” he nods, leaning back down to press his lips against your own. His hand finds your hip, and you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss is just as gentle as the first, but the passion begins to burn brighter with each passing second.

No one has ever kissed you like this.

You can’t explain it- but in a matter of moments, your attraction to Mark has grown tenfold. 

When he breaks away from you for a second time, you’re both breathing heavily. You open your eyes to stare up at the pretty line chef, watching him swallow thickly.

 “Should we uh… should we keep paying attention to the show?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah, we should.” You roll onto your side again, and Mark settles against your back. He tucks you closer, his fingers threading through yours. 

It’s impossible to focus now, and you begin to wiggle slightly, pressing your ass back against the front of his jeans.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Mark asks, letting go of your hand to grab your hip, steadying you.

“I’m fine- I’m just…” - unbelievably horny - “you’re a good kisser.”

He lets out a small laugh. “Thanks. I liked kissing you too.”

“So…” you look over your shoulder at him, “wanna kiss me again?”

Mark grins, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

As with the first two times, Mark pulls away much too fast for your liking.

Your head is spinning. You’ve never experienced a situation like this. Mark is being respectful- he’s keeping his hands in PG locations, and the kisses have involved zero tongue- does he not like you as much as you like him?

How much do you like this line chef?

Do you like him because he’s not completely fawning over you like you’re used to?

What is going on?!

“I just want you to know,” Mark says, “it sounds like you’re used to fuck boys and shit, and I uh- well, I’m not like them. There’s no pressure to get naked or anything today-” his voice hitches, “in fact, Jeno will be home soonish so it’s better if we don’t-”

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

Mark tenses behind you. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“If we move to your room, Jeno won’t walk in on us.”

“It’s not about that,” Mark assures you. “Look, I want to take my time with you. This is our first date. I want things to feel right. I want to do this right. Can you understand that?”

You think maybe you’re too horny to want to understand it. 

You want to tear Mark’s clothes off. You want to push him down and ride him until he’s gasping your name and filling you with his cum. You want to feel him still dripping out of you when you go into work tomorrow morning- 

No one has ever made you wait. You’re much too impatient for playing around- and your past lovers have been the same way. 

Even so, you respect the boundary Mark has just expressed. “No fucking tonight,” you agree, “I get that. It’s for the better.”

However, it’s not for the better of your throbbing pussy. 

Seven

God, Mark can’t take his eyes off of you. It’s been two hours since you arrived on shift, and Mark has been distracted for all of it.

You look adorable today. Your black outfit hugs your body just right, and Mark’s mind is consistently wandering to last night, when his hands had traced your hips before lacing your fingers-

When you speak, he finds his focus shifting to your lips- those pretty lips he’d kissed. The lips that had left him wanting more- the lips he’d thought about for hours after you’d gone home. He’d dreamt of kissing you, but it had fallen quite short to the real thing.

You’d sounded hurt when Mark had said you shouldn’t fuck last night, and part of Mark regrets drawing the line in the sand. But on the other hand, Mark had meant it when he said it wasn’t the right time. 

He doesn’t want to bed you after watching a few episodes of anime. You deserve so much more than that. 

Besides, if he had fucked you last night, Mark might have needed to take a sick day just to calm down. Even now, knowing he’s tasted your lips has his skin heating every time he looks at you. 

God, you’ve got him practically bewitched.

As the lunch rush comes to an end, Mark finds time to go outside and vape. He watches the cars pass while he puffs on his device, closing his eyes and imagining your lips.

As his little break is coming to an end, the door hinges squeak behind him, and Mark turns to find you standing there. 

“Oh, hi,” you grin. 

“Hey.” He looks you up and down. “You leaving?”

“Doyoung cut me again, it’s been slow this week,” you nod. 

Mark swallows thickly. He can’t help the way his gaze dips to your lips again.

You step forward, smiling. “You wanna kiss me again, don’t cha, Mark?”

He doesn’t even bother responding. He slips his vape into his pocket, grabbing your hips to tug you closer. As he brings his mouth down to yours, he pauses for a second, meeting your gaze. If you want to pull away, he gives you ample time, but instead, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, closing the distance between your lips.

You take more control today than last night. You lick at his lower lip, not doing too much tongue, but providing just enough that it has Mark’s skin tingling with need. His fingers dig against your hips, pulling you tighter. 

The kiss deepens, and Mark’s entire heart lurches in his chest when you let out a pleased mewling sound.

Fuck, he loves your sounds already- you sound so fucking pretty-

“Jesus.” Head Chef John’s voice makes Mark practically jump, and he tears his lips away from your own, eyes immediately finding his boss, who’s standing by the exit door. “Damn, newbie, you work fast, don’t you?”

Mark’s skin feels like it’s on fire, and he’s quick to let go of your hips, stepping away and running an awkward hand through his hair, “Chef-”

“Don’t tease him, Johnny,” you sigh. “You nearly gave Mark a heart attack sneaking up on us like that.”

“I’m shocked neither of you heard the door.”

“We were busy!” you insist, raising your voice in jest at the head chef.

Mark is shocked at the way you talk so easily with his boss. But he supposes you’ve been at the restaurant for over a year- maybe you’re closer with the tall head chef than Mark realized.

“Look, I’ll say what I said when Hyuck was trying to get with you, sunshine,” Johnny grins, reaching into his pocket to pull out a jacked-up vape pen. “As long as you use protection we’re good, I can’t have my line chefs becoming fathers and taking time off.”

“And I’ll say what I said last time you told me to wrap it: never gonna happen.” 

“IUD’s aren’t a hundred percent viable,” Johnny points out, making Mark nearly choke on air.

“Mine has been so far, so stick it old man.” You turn to Mark, “Don’t mind him, he’s protective.”

“I was protective with Hyuck, because he’s a douchebag, but Mark seems okay,” Johnny laughs. 

“Thanks?” Mark can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Listen, I’ll text you okay?” You grab the front of Mark’s apron, pulling him in so you can press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Have a good rest of your shift.”

Mark watches you dart off. He’s tongue-tied, skin still flaring, heart racing in his chest.

“She’s a good one,” Johnny muses. “Best expo girl we have. Don’t fuck it up, Mark, I’ll fire you before we get rid of her.”

“Trust me,” Mark coughs, “I wasn’t planning on fucking things up any time soon.”

Eight

In the year you’ve had your solo apartment, you’ve not had any guys over. Your MO is to go to the man’s place so you can dip out whenever you get anxious or tired. Inviting a man over to your safe space woman sanctuary is new. The nervousness is manifesting physically; you’re fussing over the overswept floor and the frill on your couch blanket when Mark texts you that he’s arrived. 

With one final breath, you head down to the lobby to let Mark in.

He’s in blue jeans and a black hoodie that sets off the blonde tone of his hair. You’ve been meaning to ask him about who does his bleach out, but you know men can be touchy about their physical appearance and certain body modifications, so you’ve been holding yourself back.

He looks good. That’s all that really matters. 

“Hey,” Mark grins as you open the door, pulling you into a hug. 

“Hey, yourself,” you smile back, pulling away from the embrace to lead Mark to the elevator. You can hear the line chef following you, and you suddenly feel self-conscious about your building. 

“It’s a nice place,” Mark notes, as if he can read your mind. “New build?”

“I think it’s been here like three or four years? I moved in last winter.”

“Right,” he nods, coming to a stop next to you as you hit the button to call the elevator. 

You can feel him staring at you, and it’s making you even more nervous. “What?” you ask, letting out a short laugh.

“Nothing, you just uh… you look cute.” 

“I’m literally in PJ’s.” Your gaze dips to your simple fuzzy purple shorts, and the tank top you’re wearing.

“But they’re nice. I’ve only ever seen you in work outfits, and when you came over last time you were in jeans. You look cute dressed down like this.”

You’d been worried about being so casual with Mark- dressing for comfort instead of the need to impress, but it seems you’ve succeeded in both comfortability and making a good impression. 

“Thank you,” you smile, your insides practically glowing from the compliment. No other man has seen you this way and called you cute- it’s one of the reasons you usually dip out from a man after sex. There’s no comfort or getting comfortable- your other relationships have always been rigid, a push pull and need to be perfect at all times in order to be deserving of attention.

You make it up to your floor, and another wave of anxiety washes over you as you let Mark into your small apartment. “It’s not much,” you sigh, “but it’s home.”

Mark slips off his sneakers by your door, looking around. “No, I like it,” he assures you. “No roommates kicking around- I bet living alone is pretty relaxing.”

“It can be, but it’s also lonely at times,” you admit.

“Well, if you get lonely here, you can always call me and I can come entertain you.”

Mark’s words give an air of longevity. He sounds certain about this, as if it’s a given that he’s part of your life now, as if he’s not going anywhere. 

You’re not sure what to make of Mark. You’ve never really had steady consistency from a man- but he seems so sincere, it makes you want to be hopeful, and hope can be a dangerous thing for a girl like you.

“So uh… can I get you something to drink?” you ask. “We’re just watching anime right?”

“I’m good. If I get thirsty, I’ll let you know,” Mark assures you, taking a seat on the couch in your living room. “Should we uh… should I move some of these pillows so we can cuddle again?”

You grin, pouring yourself a cup of water. “If you want to cuddle, we can cuddle.”

“I want to cuddle,” Mark states, immediately grabbing at the cushions and rearranging your space to allow for you both to lie down. 

He’s adorable. Laying down in front of him already feels kind of natural. The way he grabs your hip and tugs you close to his chest has your heart singing, and his breath against the back of your neck is as familiar as anything.

Not much needs to be said as you start your anime. You’re simply enjoying the comfortability of companionship- companionship lacking any pressures or timeframes. You’re two souls sharing your moments together.

It’s a different feeling for your mind to go blank while you’re with Mark. You’re shocked by how safe you feel in his embrace. 

You talk here and there, the two of you discussing moments in the anime, but conversation doesn’t get much deeper than that. You actually kind of enjoy not having to use your brain, and you’re definitely enjoying the warmth of the man behind you.

“I’m uh, gonna take my hoodie off,” Mark tells you, shifting slightly. 

“Okay.” You give him space, turning to look over your shoulder as he lifts the fabric off his body, revealing the white tshirt below. “Wait, can you give me a deeper tattoo tour now?”

“Uh…”

“You said you’d give me a proper tour on the second date,” you tease, hooking your finger in the neck of his shirt and gently pulling, giving yourself a tiny peak of marked skin along his collarbones.

“I guess I did say that, didn’t I?” Mark laughs sheepishly. “Okay,” he takes a deep breath, sitting up again and grabbing the hem of his shirt.

As Mark reveals his chest to you, you’re a little taken aback by what you see.

Generally, you’re pretty good at guessing a man’s build under his clothing, but Mark is much more toned than you thought he would be. It’s clear he works out, and the muscles you see are amplified by tasteful placement of tattoos littering his torso.

“Where do I even start?” Mark asks, looking down at himself.

“Wherever you want to.” You turn to face him, anime forgotten in the background.

He brushes his own fingers across one of the ferns decorating his collarbones. “These are my mom’s favourite plant.”

“Her favourite plant?” you grin.

“Yeah, I know, most moms have a favourite flower, but my mom kind of really likes ferns.”

“Sounds like you’re close with her,” you note.

“I’m a complete mama’s boy,” Mark admits with a laugh, which is when your gaze lands on a heart with the word ‘Mom’ tattooed on his ribs.

“I see that.” You reach out and gently brush the mark.

The line chef shivers under your touch, the muscles in his abdomen jumping deliciously. You wonder how ticklish he is. 

“Then this one,” Mark touches the moth blooming out from his sternum, “was just really cool and the artist needed someone to practice on, so I said, let’s do it, fuck me up.”

You grin at his choice of words. Mark can be kind of reserved at work, it’s interesting to hear his dirty mouth now that you’re alone. 

You kind of love listening to him as he continues with the tour, tracing the lined patch work. Each mark is another story or detail about the line chef you’re starting to fall for, and you commit his words to memory. 

He’s done the tour of his tattoos much too fast for your liking. You trace the last of the marks, a dagger on his bicep. 

Laying on your back with Mark on his side next to you, things feel very intimate, especially now that his focus has shifted away from his tattoos and is solidly fixed on you.

His hand finds your abdomen, and he gently lines the curve of your hip with his fingers.

Neither of you say anything, caught in the peaceful quiet and moments of mutual discovery. 

His fingers brush by your rib cage, and you’re struck by the need for more. Gently placing your hand over his, you prompt him up higher, until his palm is placed over your breast. You sneak a glance at Mark, noticing the way he swallows thickly.

“Are you a boobs man, Mark?”

“I mean… who isn’t?”

You grin at his answer. “Should I take my shirt off? It’s only fair, right? Yours is off.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he assures you.

“I want to take my shirt off.”

“Then take your shirt off,” he says quietly.

You sit up, quickly discarding the fabric before laying back down again. Now you’re just in a bra and PJ shorts. Mark sucks in a breath, his hand finding your bare hip. Once again, you have to guide his touch up to your breast. This time, when he squeezes you, his thumb rubs over the swell of plump flesh.

You can feel your nipple hardening with interest, pressing against the cup of your bra. “We should take this off next,” you suggest, grabbing at your strap.

“Yeah?” Mark’s eyes widen as he looks at you, his lips parting as he breathes heavier.

“I mean, unless you want me to keep it on?”

“Like I said,” the line chef brushes his thumb over your skin again, “do whatever makes you most comfortable.” 

You sit up again, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp. For a moment, you pause. This is a line you won't be able to uncross. You’re about to show your coworker your boobs. Your sweet, honest, adorable, line chef coworker, who gazes at you with stars in his eyes- your fuck boy look alike secret softie-

You undo your bra, throwing it off the couch before laying flat again. This time, you don’t have to prompt Mark’s hand, he gently traces his fingers up your ribs until he’s cupping your breast. He watches you tentatively, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Mark says, firmly this time.

“Come here,” you reach up to cup the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours. He kisses you like he’s afraid you might break, but when you whimper, he responds with a groan, deepening the passion as his tongue glides against your own.

His hand kneads your breast, making you moan again, pushing up toward his palm. You can feel the desire growing between your legs as he kisses you, and you reach out to trace his chest. Your touch begins to lower, fingers grazing over his abdomen-

Mark breaks the kiss, nuzzling against your jaw to prompt your face to the side so he can access your throat. He peppers your skin in soft kisses, slowly descending until he reaches your collar bones-

You realize what he’s about to do and tangle your fingers through his soft blonde hair, pushing your chest up in silent affirmation. “Mark-” you whimper, rewarded when his wet lips wrap around your nipple.

Fuck, he feels so good-

Has anyone ever felt this good?

Maybe it’s the waiting- the going slow, or maybe it’s just the fact that Mark makes you feel safe, but regardless, each touch, each brush of his lips and tongue, has you mewling. You’re pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point, your pussy practically throbbing with each flick of his wet muscle against your pebbled nipple.

“Mark?” you whisper, tightening your grip in his hair. “Are you…” you swallow thickly. “Are you going to fuck me?”

The line chef pulls away from your breast, looking up at you with dark chocolate eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do-”

“What if I want this?”

“I usually don’t sleep with girls on the second date-”

“Make an exception?” you plead. 

You haven’t been fucked in a few weeks, and you’re feeling desperate. You want to connect with Mark on that physical level, and sex is always the way you do that with men. You want him to feel good, to give him a reason to stick around like he says he will.

“But wait-” you feel your skin heat, “I have something I should tell you first.”

Mark cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to continue.

“I uh… I’m going to be super real with you right now.” You take a deep breath. “Look, I read a lot of smut? That’s like- I read a lot of erotica, written porn, I guess- and, in smut, and porn especially, girls always just cum so easily- and I wish I was that type of person, but I’m not. No guy has ever… you know, gotten me there. What I’m trying to say is, I can have fun even without cumming. So if I can’t get there with you, it’s not you, it’s literally me-”

“Hey,” Mark reaches up to cup your cheek, cutting off your rambling. “Thanks for telling me, but there’s no pressure. Whatever happens, happens. For some girls, you have to get more comfortable. My first girlfriend was like that too, and there’s never any judgement from me. I’m willing to wait for you to feel safe enough that your body relaxes.”

“You are?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you. “I mean, I can’t promise that I’ll be as good as the guys in your books or in porn. Dirty talk is something I have to get used to using too, but, if we give it time, I’m sure we’ll figure each other out.”

You search his eyes, processing what he’s just said. Then you give him a small nod. “That sounds good to me.”

“Good.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. “But, if we’re going to do this, I’d like for us to go to your bedroom, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course.” You sit up, getting off the couch quickly while Mark follows. As you get to the door of your bedroom, you look over your shoulder, snaking your fingers into your shorts and pulling them down.

“Fuck-” Mark groans, eyes taking in your body.

You can see a half chub pressing against the denim of his blue jeans, and your pussy throbs again. “Come on, puppy boy,” you tease. 

He’s quick to catch you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his chest to your back. His lips find your neck and you giggle, moving toward your bed while dragging the line chef with you.

“You’re so pretty,” Mark groans, tracing your curves with one hand while the other reaches to grab your breast.

Turning in his arms, you press your lips to his, enjoying the way each kiss gets deeper. He’s relaxing against you, his tongue exploring you more and more. 

When you make it to the bed, he gently prompts you to sit down. You look up at Mark, watching him take in your form. “How did I get this lucky?” he asks.

“You asked me out,” you remind him. “So you did this all yourself, Mark.”

“Did I?” he grins, sinking to the floor.

You’re surprised by the new position, surprised by the way he gently parts your knees, his gaze finding your hot core. 

“Can I take these off?” he questions, gently tugging at your panties.

“Yeah-” you whisper.

Most guys don’t eat you out as an appetizer. In fact, you have to ask most men to go down on you- but here’s Mark, doing it all of his own accord. And he looks so needy- in the best possible way.

Mark slips your panties down your legs, and then his lips find your calf. He begins kissing up your skin, spreading your thighs to accommodate him. 

“You don’t have to-” Your words are lost when he presses a kiss to your clit.

“Don’t have to what?” Mark asks, looking up at you.

“Don’t have to eat me out-”

“I want to eat you out,” he confirms. “I’ll eat you out for as long as you want me to- but, when you need more, just say something, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh,” Mark hums, immediately pressing his mouth against your core again. He licks a wet stripe of your pussy, and it makes your legs twitch on his shoulders.

You relax against the mattress, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of Mark pleasuring you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him where you need him. He focuses on your clit, circling it and toying with it.

It feels amazing- it does, but there’s some sort of mental block in your brain. You wish you could just cum from this, but the more you think about that, the more you distract yourself from Mark. God, you almost feel bad making him eat you out like this- he’s not getting anything-

The overthinking is something you’re used to, and try as you might to talk yourself down from the ledge of sexual issues, you can’t relax. You can’t focus on Mark, and it frustrates you to no end.

Finally, after what feels like hours of him eating you out - although it must only be a few minutes - you gently tug his hair. “Want your cock now,” you tell him.

“Yeah?” Mark wipes his hand across his mouth, looking up at you with pupils blown from lust.

“Please,” you nod. 

“Should I uh- should I grab a condom?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “We’re both clean right?”

“Yeah-”

“I have an IUD, remember? I want you to cum inside of me.”

Mark draws in a shaky breath. You watch him swallow thickly, then he stands up, undoing his blue jeans. When he pushes down his pants, he moves his underwear too, and just like that, your favourite line chef is standing naked in front of you.

He’s got a pretty cock. It’s girthy, cut, and must be around seven or so inches. The tip is curved slightly to his left, and it’s leaking precum even though you’ve hardly touched him.

Did Mark really get that turned on just from eating you out?

“Come here,” you offer him a small smile, shifting up your bed until your head reaches the pillows. You open your arms for Mark, watching him press a knee onto the mattress and approach you. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you drag him into a kiss.

The kiss is passionate, but there’s a tentative energy to it as Mark’s cock presses between your pussy lips, collecting the juice and saliva that’s congregated there. 

“Are you sure about this?” Mark asks, panting against your mouth. 

You open your eyes to look up at him, nodding.

“I uh… I need to hear you say yes.”

“Yes, Mark, I’m sure about this,” you say, trailing your fingers through his hair. “Please, I want you.”

He searches your eyes, then, with a final nod, he kisses you again. One of his hands slides between your bodies, and you feel him line his cock up with your core. Your legs tighten around his hips, and it’s something like a united effort when his length sinks into your pussy.

You both groan against each other’s lips. The kissing stops, but you remain close enough that your noses are touching. His breath is hot against your skin, and he begins to fuck you slowly, his cock filling you perfectly.

“You feel so good,” Mark groans. 

All you can do is moan in response, drawing his lips back to yours while he fucks you.

You get lost in the feeling of him, and the kissing does aid in calming down your tumultuous thoughts. You can focus on the pleasure that thrums through you with each thrust, the way his cock glides against your inner walls and stretches you out.

Mark grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers and pressing you against the bed, his hips working faster. His tongue is eager against your own, and he eats up your soft whimpers. His groans and grunts of effort make your soul sing, your heart beating quickly in your breast.

“Shit,” Mark pulls away from the kiss, looking down at you. “It’s been a minute since I’ve- since I’ve slept with anyone,” he admits. “I’m uh… pretty close.”

“Want you to cum,” you tell him.

“Yeah?”

“Please- want you to fill me up-”

Mark groans, pressing his lips against your own. You kiss him desperately, tightening your legs around his hips. He squeezes your hand, his groans muffled by your mouth.

His hips work faster and faster- then, all at once, he kind of just stops. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and his grip on your hand is tight as he coats your insides with his cum.

You hold him through his high, your free hand petting his hair while he brings his lips to your neck, panting desperately and kissing your skin. 

He lets out a sigh of relief as he finishes. Mark pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. You can tell there’s something he wants to say, but it’s clear that he’s not able to find the right words. “I, uh…” he licks his lips. “Should I grab you a tissue or something?”

“Yes, please,” you laugh, letting go of him so he can get off the bed. You watch him look around your room, finding your tissues on the nightstand. 

His legs are as covered in patchwork tattoos as the rest of him, and you’re pleased that the tour will continue another day. He hands you the tissue. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?”

“You can go for it, I just need a second,” you tell him.

Mark nods, pressing one last kiss to your lips before he leaves your bedroom.

You lay there in bed, holding the tissue between your legs to capture any of the cum beginning to leak out of you. 

You’re glad Mark got to cum. You’re not surprised you hadn’t. You just hope maybe one day you will get there, and for some reason, you have a hunch Mark will be the one to achieve an orgasm for you. Or at least, you hope he will. 

Nine

“So did you do it?” 

“Hmm?” Mark looks up from the chicken he’s cutting.

“You had your second date with Sunshine last night, right?” Hyuck presses. “So…. did you do it? Did you make her cum, or what?”

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” Mark sighs, looking at the other side of the kitchen where John is working. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here.”

“Nah, this is the perfect place to talk about it,” Hyuck leans against the work station, his back to the head chef. “So I’m guessing you didn’t make her cum.”

“Is that all you were thinking about every time you fucked her?” Mark asks.

“Duh.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe that’s the kind of mentality that would make a girl overthink the situation?” Mark shakes his head. “I bet you would watch her super intently and then just ask her to cum.”

“That’s a move, Mark, it’s called having rizz.”

“But it never worked, so was it really rizz, or were you just fucking yourself over?”

Hyuck narrows his eyes. “So now you’re the expert on making girls cum?”

Over Hyuck’s shoulder, John stops what he’s doing and turns to stare at the line chefs. Mark can feel his skin heating, and he opens his mouth to rectify the situation, but Hyuck’s already speaking again. 

“I bet you a hundred bucks you won’t be able to make her cum.”

“Fuck you, I’m not betting money on this shit,” Mark hisses. 

“Sounds like something a pussy would say.”

“A pussy with a knife in his hand,” the line chef notes, his grip tightening on the handle. “Look, when I do make her cum, you have to stop bashing her like it’s her fault that you wouldn’t take the time to make her comfortable.” 

“And when you don’t make her cum?”

“It’s not going to happen.” Mark’s not sure where his confidence is coming from, but something in his heart tells him to be firm about this. He’s going to get you there. It might take a few weeks, hell, it might take over a month- but he’s going to get you to the point where you relax enough to cum for him, or so help him God-

Ten

Mark had cum inside of you three times since arriving at seven, and at two am he had finally broached the idea of heading home. “I should probably go,” the line chef had sighed, holding you closer to his chest.

“I mean… you could always just stay over?” you’d suggested.

“Yeah?”

“It’s our third date, why not?” you’d shrugged, cuddling tighter against him. 

You hadn’t planned this, it had just sort of happened, and that’s how Mark had ended up sleeping at your place for the first time. 

He’d woken up half way through the night, voice raspy, hands grabby, moaning about how lucky he was to be here with you. Falling asleep again after he’d railed you had been as easy as breathing, and now, in the morning hours, you’re in the shower to wash off all the cum he’d left on and inside of you. 

Neither of you have to be at work till the afternoon, and you kind of like the idea of lazing around with Mark, who’s still passed out in your bed. 

You take your time with your skin care and hair, and when you finally enter your room, you’re intrigued to find the line chef still asleep. He’s quite handsome like this, all bundled up in your white duvet, blonde hair shining around him like a halo.

You try to be careful as you crawl onto the mattress next to him, but Mark immediately rolls over to pull you tight to his chest. He lets out a soft groan, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

God, why are things so domestic with this boy already?

His hands trail up and down your back, fingers stroking your skin. You’d put on his shirt, but other than that, you’re naked, and it doesn’t take long for Mark to realize that fact. His touch moves down to your hip, sliding under the shirt. His thumb draws circles against your bare skin, and he lets out another moan. 

“Morning, puppy boy,” you laugh.

“Hungry,” Mark whispers. 

“Hmm?”

“I said,” he leans down, pressing kisses to your throat, his lips brushing by your ear when he repeats himself; “Hungry.”

“I can make you breakfast,” you assure him.

“Don’t want food,” Mark says. “Want you.”

In one quick motion he pushes you onto your back, getting on top of you. His breath is hot against your neck, and he tugs on your shirt, pulling it up to reveal your breasts. His mouth wraps around your nipple, and he sucks on it gently, releasing sounds of pleasure. 

You thread your fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh of relief. “Feels good,” you tell him.

One of his hands slips between your legs, his digits teasing your slit. “Always so wet for me,” he groans, releasing your nipple with a pop. “Can I taste?”

Mark is definitely getting more bold with you, but that’s what happens when you’ve fucked a handful of times, had three dates, and one sleep over. 

“You can do anything you want to me,” you tell him.

The line chef kisses down your abdomen, pushing your legs open as he settles between them. You thread your fingers through his hair as he brings his mouth to your core, licking at your pussy lips. 

Mark is really good at oral. This is the fourth time he’s eaten you out. With each time he presses his mouth to your pussy, part of you gets more and more convinced that you’ll cum this way. When he adds two fingers into your aching core, you’re pretty much sure that it will happen-

It feels so good, and the moans that escape you reflect that. Your hips buck toward his face, prompting Mark to press a palm to your lower abdomen, keeping you pinned.

But every time you think you’re close - every time you’re about to announce it to him - the feeling dissipates. 

You can feel yourself getting more and more irritated with your body, and soon, you give up entirely. “Mark?”

“Hmm?” The vibrations against your clit have your thighs shaking.

“Can I just- can we just fuck? Please? I want you inside of me.”

Mark pulls away from your pussy, his fingers continuing in your hole. “Are you sure? You know I enjoy playing with you like this.”

“I know- but, I just- I’m in my head again. Want your cock in my pussy.”

Mark takes his fingers out of your core, bringing them to his lips to lick clean. Then he crawls up your body, kissing you so you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

“I’ll fuck you,” he says, “but don’t ever think I don’t enjoy being between your thighs like that, okay? You don’t have to cum, I know from the sounds that you make that you enjoy it, and that’s enough for me until you get there, yeah?”

You swallow thickly, nodding. “I’m still in my head.”

“I get that, Sunshine,” he kisses you gently, cupping your cheek as he lines his cock up with your wet hole. “If there’s anything I can do to stop the overthinking-”

“Just fuck me,” you insist, wrapping your legs around his hips.

Mark laughs. “You got it.”

Eleven

“Dude, is that a hickey on your neck?” Hyuck’s annoying voice makes Mark flinch, and his hand immediately flies to slap against the side of his throat.

“What? No.” 

“It totally is,” Hyuck laughs. “Damn, you two must really be going at it a lot.”

“We’re having fun.”

“Fun like two times? Three?”

“Fun like five times in the past twenty four hours.”

“Jesus Christ.” Hyuck’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t know what you were talking about with her not being able to sleep next to you. She passed out just fine with me last night.”

Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Fucking Hell. Maybe I underestimated you. So… did she cum?” 

Mark sighs. He hates to be talking about this while at work. You’re running food, but you could be back at any second, and Mark doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea about all of this. Hyuck is the instigator of these sexual talks, and Mark doesn’t know how much to keep to himself.

“So that’s a no,” Hyuck deduces. “Big ouch.”

“I feel like we shouldn’t talk about this anymore,” Mark says finally.

“Why? Is your pride hurt?” 

Mark lets out another annoyed breath. “I just think it’s disrespectful. You’re an ex fling of hers, you don’t deserve to know everything about her personal life.”

“I don't want to know about her personal life,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “I want to know about her sex life, there’s a difference.” 

“I’m done talking to you about this,” Mark insists.

“Damn, someone is starting to sound like a protective boyfriend. Jeeze, calm down.”

Mark hates that there’s some truth in what Hyuck is saying. He already feels quite protective of you. He’s got dates planned, things that can make you smile. He pays close attention to you when you speak, looking for your likes and dislikes. 

Mark is falling for you faster than he’d ever care to admit, especially not to Hyuck of all people. 

Twelve

“Who does a staff Christmas party in January?” Jungwoo asks as a bunch of you take the big table after the restaurant has closed.

“We were all too busy at Chirstmas time, remember?” Jaehyun says, looking at his waiter friend. “And then there was New Years, and we closed early.”

“I agree with you Woo, a mid January Christmas party feels weird,” you grin, leaning against your favourite server. 

In all honesty, it feels like your managers Taeil and Doyoung just wanted to give you all some time to relax and celebrate. January can be a slow month in the restaurant business, and you’d heard Jeno mention yesterday that there are four or five bottles of wine that no one has been ordering that have to be used up. 

As you begin to drink the wine, the mid January Christmas party makes more and more sense. The chefs have finished their closing tasks, with John joining you first, followed by Hyuck, and finally Mark.

With Jaehyun across from you, Jungwoo on one side, and John on the other, you’re surrounded. Mark sits at the other end of the table, offering you a small smile. You give him a gentle wave in response, giggling to yourself over the rim of your wine glass.

“Gosh, Sunshine,” Jungwoo slides closer to you. “Are you drunk already?”

“You’ve been refilling my glass,” you point out, pouting a little.

“Because you’re a cute drunk,” he grins. 

“A very cute drunk,” Jaehyun agrees, eyeing you from across the table. 

The thing about dating a coworker and it being new means you can’t talk about it. Until there’s a label with you and Mark, you’re keeping your lips shut. As far as Jungwoo or Jaehyun know, you’re single, and the latter of the two has been hitting on you for months.

It feels odd to have Jaehyun calling you cute while Mark is just a few seats down. Your stomach twists into drunken knots, and you wish you could move to be closer to your new secret Boo-

In the periphery of your vision, you note Mark stand up and begin to head to the bar. It feels like the perfect excuse to get some time alone with him, so you hop off of your chair. 

Mark’s grabbed a glass and is beginning to pour himself a beer from the tap by the time you reach him. “Hi, puppy boy,” you grin.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he laughs, looking you up and down. “Jungwoo’s been feeding you the wine, huh?”

“Just like… a normal amount.” God, you can’t help but smile constantly at the boy who has your heart twisting into love sick knots. 

“Are you tipsy?” Mark cocks his head to the side as he finishes pouring his drink.

“Maybe…”

“Can I get you some water?” he suggests.

You lean forward over the bar top, lowering your voice so only Mark can hear you. “I’m thirsty, but not for water or wine.”

It takes Mark a moment to read the innuendo of your words, but then he laughs. “I should get you some water.”

“What if I don’t drink it?”

“What if I ask you to please drink it?” he counters, already filling a cup for you. 

“Okay, fine. Just for you, though.” 

Mark grins as he hands you the glass.

“Why do you take care of me so much?” you ask, as the two of you head back to the table.

“Because,” Mark pulls your chair out for you, “you’re my favourite expo girl.”

“I better be,” you say, teasingly narrowing your eyes at Mark before he walks back to his own seat down the long table.

You begin to nurse your water. Mark’s right about you needing it. The tipsyness has somehow intensified- probably because Jungwoo had insisted you finish your wine glass. You feel blurry as you sit there and listen to your coworkers chat.

“I just don’t like saying chicken breast,” Jungwoo states.

“But that’s what they are!” Yuta, one of the night line chefs, insists. “They’re breasts!”

“I just tell customers that the alfredo comes with chicken, they don’t need to hear me say breast!” Jungwoo fights back. “Jaehyun agrees with me, right Jae?”

“Yeah, I just say chicken,” the man across from you nods.

“Taeyong also just says chicken,” Jungwoo continues. “So right now it’s three to one.”

“Hyuck,” Yuta calls across the table, gaining the attention of the men at the other end. “Do you call it chicken breast, or just chicken?”

“Neither,” Hyuck says confidently. “Thems some chicken boobies.”

You can’t believe the conversation you’re hearing. “I think it’s time for me to leave,” you decide. 

“What? Why?” Jungwoo whines.

“I can’t be here for a discussion about chicken.”

Jungwoo slams his hand on the table. “See, she said just chicken too!” 

Yuta points his finger at you like you’re on a game show. “Is that your final answer?” 

You lean forward, pretending his hand is a microphone. “Chicken titties.”

“Yeah, we’re cutting you off,” Jungwoo decides. “You need to go home and sleep.”

“Someone should make sure you get back to your place okay,” Jaehyun notes, standing from his chair.

“I’ll take care of her,” comes Mark’s voice from the other end of the table.

Jaehyun turns to stare at the line chef, who also stands up. 

John is next to you, and you watch a knowing expression appear on his features, grinning as he sips his beer. 

“You still have half your drink left,” Jaehyun insists, “And, I’ve known our little miss Sunshine for much longer than you have. I’m sure she’s probably more comfortable with me taking her home.”

A muscle in Mark’s jaw feathers. You watch him reach down and grab his beer, downing the whole thing in three large gulps before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

Fuck, the motion reminds you of what he does whenever he eats you out, and you feel almost dizzy thinking about it.

“Who’s it gonna be, Sunshine?” Hyuck grins. “Jaehyun, or Marky boy?”

“Let’s go, Mark,” you say, offering Jaehyun a small smile. “We’ll see all you guys tomorrow.”

Jaehyun looks pretty defeated, but you can’t even bring yourself to care as Mark comes around the table to offer you his arm. At first, you think you don’t his help, but when you stumble after one step, you latch onto his bicep.

“I was hoping you’d go home with me tonight,” you whisper as the two of you exit to the parking lot, where Mark’s truck is waiting. He helps you climb inside, smiling and shaking his head.

“Sunshine, if you ever want me to go home with you, you don’t have to get drunk, just ask.”

Thirteen

“I’m really not that drunk,” you insist, making your way over to the liquor cabinet again.

Mark sighs. You’re a grown adult, he can’t keep directing you away from the booze. “Okay, I believe you. What do you want? Let me make it for you.”

“I want…” you think about it for a moment. “An espresso martini.”

“It’s late, won’t the espresso make it hard for you to sleep?” You’re definitely drunk and you both know it.

“I don’t care. Want espresso martini.”

“Okay, Sunshine, you got it.” Mark moves through your kitchen, finding the espresso machine there. He slips a pod into the device, setting up a cup. 

“Can you add honey?” you ask, already moving to the cabinet to grab a bottle. Mark takes it from you, squeezing some of the honey into the bottom of the cup as hot coffee begins to pour over it. “I also want Baileys.”

Mark laughs a little, shaking his head as you stumble to grab the large Irish Cream bottle from your cupboard.

“And also ice,” you declare. “Frothed.”

“This is a whole thing, huh?” Mark watches you fill the frother with Baileys. 

“I like what I like,” you insist. “We’re gonna triple froth this.”

“You’re the boss.” Mark reaches into his pocket, pulling out his vape. You’ve been letting him smoke in here, and he appreciates the reprieve as the two of you make this very complicated espresso martini. 

By the time you’re done with it, Mark’s not even sure you could call it an espresso martini. With the amount of frothed foam on top, this drink is something else entirely. 

He watches you lift the cup to your lips, immediately getting foam on your face. You simply giggle and wipe it off, licking your finger clean. Then you dip your digit into the froth, scooping it up and popping it in your mouth.

Mark swallows thickly while watching you do this.

“Puppy,” you groan, “this is so good.” You offer him your finger. “Try it.���

Mark can’t say no to you, so he allows you to dip your finger into his mouth. He licks you clean, watching the way your breath catches. You bite on your bottom lip, swaying a little on your feet.

“Your turn,” you say quietly, holding out the cup.

“My turn?”

“I wanna suck on your fingers.”

Mark knows you're drunk. He knows this probably isn’t the best idea for either of you, but he simply can’t say no to you. Not now, not ever. 

He dips his pointer into the foam, then presents it to you. 

You grab his wrist, keeping him still while you move forward to suck on his finger, releasing a small groan. Mark can already feel the blood rushing to his cock, but he ignores it as he goes for another scoop of froth. 

“Tastes better on you,” you tell him, licking his digit clean again. “More. Please.” 

The way you look at him each time you suck his finger tells Mark that you’re as horny as he is. When he scoops with two digits, you practically mewl as you lick.

“I wanna suck on something bigger,” you state.

“Sunshine,” Mark sighs, “I really don’t want to take advantage-” 

“You’re not. Mark, you’ve eaten me out so many times, please let me return the favour?” You’re already sinking to your knees on the kitchen floor, and the sight of you makes Mark’s cock throb in his jeans. “Please, I just wanna suck you off.”

“You know I can never say no to you.”

As the words leave him your hands find his belt. In moments, you’re pushing his pants down, your grip wrapping around the base of his cock. He watches you lick your lips, your gaze meeting his as you lean forward to take him into your mouth.

Mark immediately lets out a groan. “You feel so good, sunshine.”

You whimper around his length, and the vibration has Mark’s fingers twitching. He reaches for your head, cupping your face while you suck him off. His other hand places your drink on the kitchen counter before falling to his side. The line chef’s head falls back, his eyes closing as he eats up the feeling of you.

“That’s it,” he sighs, loving the way you twirl your tongue around his shaft.

You take as much of him past your lips as possible, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, causing Mark’s eyes to fly open. He looks down at you with concern, but you keep sucking him.

“You don’t have to deep throat me,” Mark assures you, pushing some hair away from your face.

You let out a whine, sinking onto him again, only for your throat to constrict tight around his tip. 

Mark groans. “Fuck, Sunshine, I’m serious.”

The line chef could never do what you’re doing right now. Not because he’s not into cock, but because he has the worst gag reflex ever. He knows what it’s like to choke, and he doesn’t want you sputtering on his cock in the name of pleasuring him. 

When you try to deep throat him a third time, Mark simply pulls you off of him. He’s struck by the view of a string of saliva keeping you connected to his cock, and the way you look up at him in a confused daze has his heart thundering in his chest.

“Enough of that,” Mark says softly. “Let me take care of you.”

He reaches down, gently taking your hands so he can help you to your feet. 

“Bedroom?” he suggests.

You nod, swallowing thickly and wiping at your mouth, then you dart off. You’re awfully agile for a drunk girl, and Mark smiles to himself before following you. By the time he’s made it to the bedroom, you’ve already stripped.

You’re sitting on the bed, grinning at him with a hint of mischief in your eye.

“Take advantage of me, Mark,” you say as he pulls off his shirt.

“Jesus,” Mark whispers. “I hate to say it, but that line is not enticing at all.”

He’s still kind of questioning if this is a good idea, but at the same time, you’ve already fucked on multiple occasions. He knows you want him sober, and especially - it appears - while drunk. 

“Come on, please?” You pout out your lower lip.

Mark slips out of his jeans, joining you on the bed. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss while your legs encircle his hips.

As his cock slips past your core, Mark is shocked at how wet you already are. Booze has really done a number on you, but neither of you are complaining.

“You sure you want this?” he asks.

“Don’t make me beg,” you laugh, “Cuz I will.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “Just checking.”

Before he can reach for his cock, you beat him to it, grabbing the base and lining his tip up with your entrance. “Fuck me, Mark, I’m begging for it.”

He presses his lips hard against your own as he pushes into your wet hole, both of you groaning loudly at the feeling. 

“Shit,” you whimper, breaking the kiss to look up at him, “I’m so sensitive today-”

“Alcohol does that sometimes,” Mark notes, bringing up a hand to cup your breast. When his fingers pinch your nipple, you let out a high pitched squeal, pushing your chest up toward his palm. 

“Fuck, Mark-” Your pussy clenches tight around him, and the feeling makes Mark dizzy. 

“You sound so good, Sunshine, and you’re gripping me so fucking hard-” Mark begins to fuck into you. Your nails claw at his arms, your head thrown back, eyes closed.

Mark reaches down to rub your clit. You shudder below him, legs tightening around his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you moan loudly. “Just like that-”

He applies more pressure to your sensitive bud, making your hips buck toward him, your core clenching him in a death grip. 

“If you keep squeezing me like this, I’m not going to last long-” he warns you, tension building in the base of his cock.

“I want you to cum,” you insist, opening your eyes to look at him.

“Don’t you want to try and get there too?” he asks. 

“I don’t-” you swallow thickly, “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Let me fuck you a little longer, yeah?” Mark prompts. “I can wait a bit. Actually, we should switch positions.”

“To what?”

“Can you get on your knees for me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod quickly. As soon as Mark pulls away, you’re flipping over, pushing your ass into the air for him.

“Fuck, what a view,” he breathes, hands smoothing across your bum. 

You whimper, and the sound encourages Mark to slip himself into you again. The sigh of relief that leaves you has Mark’s skin tingling, his grip finding your hips. 

“It’s so deep,” you groan, tangling your fingers in the sheets.

You’re right about that- your wet pussy is taking every inch Mark has, and each smack of his hips against your ass has you getting even wetter. He’s pretty sure you’re dripping down your thighs at this point, and his fingers dig into your skin even harder.

The sounds you’re making are like music to his ears. Your grip on his cock is insane. Mark’s pretty sure tonight is going to be the night that you cum- but as he continues fucking you, it becomes more and more clear that only one of you is going to get there- and fast. 

“Fuck,” Mark grunts, his heart racing in his chest as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. 

“Cum in me,” you insist, reaching behind yourself.

Mark grabs your hand, lacing your fingers and holding you against the small of your back.

“You really want me to cum?” he asks, breathless.

“Please,” you nod, squeezing his hand. “Wanna be full.”

Again, Mark can’t say no to you.

“Okay, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whispers, fucking you even harder. “Shit-” 

His orgasm hits straight on, tingling through his entire body like an electric jolt. He pushes his cock into you as deep as it can go, feeling it throb as he coats your walls in cum. Mark throws his head back, eyes closed, overcome by the pleasure that courses through him.

He’s not the type that can fuck someone through his high. When he cums, he has to stop, has to experience the feeling in full. His mind goes completely blank…

But his first thought when the words come back is that he should tell you he loves you.

Fuck. This is becoming a problem. 

Every time he cums deep inside of you, his feelings grow. He’s overwhelmed with this sense that you’re meant to be, that he should just lock you down and let you know how much you mean to him.

But as always, that logical side rears its head, reminding Mark that it’s only been a few weeks of seeing each other. He needs to take things slow- for your sake. He doesn’t want to scare you away. Being a safe space for you includes watching his tongue, it means not putting pressure on you like this- 

If there’s one thing that will pressure you, it’s the admittance that he’s kind of in love with you.

Instead of saying what’s on the tip of his tongue, Mark pulls out of you. He gets you a tissue for the cum that begins to drip out of your pussy, and a cup of water to make sure you’re hydrated. Once you’ve both cleaned up in the bathroom, he cuddles you close to his chest, stroking your back and listening to you breathe.

To Mark’s complete shock, you fall asleep on him within minutes. 

It’s a sign that you’re truly feeling safe with him, and Mark thinks he must be going in the right direction. He’s careful not to wake you up, he simply enjoys the feeling of holding you close while you rest.

Fourteen

You wake up slowly, cuddling closer to the warmth next to you. It takes you a moment to realize that the heat is coming from Mark, and you open your eyes to stare at him.

“Morning,” Mark grins, putting down his phone to watch you. “Sleep well?”

“Shockingly well,” you grin, snuggling closer. “You?”

“I like sleeping next to you,” Mark muses, wrapping his arms around you. “You know, I was thinking I could make you breakfast or something. Neither of us have work today.”

“Breakfast?” You perk up.

“Yeah, I can cook most breakfast or brunch foods, but uh… don’t ask me to make eggs.”

“Eggs?” You raise your brows, looking at him with a laugh.

“I know, it’s stupid cuz I’m literally a line chef, but I never went to school for it, remember?” Mark grins, stroking your skin. “John tried to teach me during brunch last week but I just- don’t have the patience for eggs.”

“Poor John, hired a chef who can’t cook eggs,” you tease. “Are you sure you don’t want something else for breakfast?”

“Like what?”

“Like… me?” 

Mark laughs. “As much as I’d love to fuck you today, I feel like- maybe it would be nice to not sleep together this morning... You know this isn’t just sex for me, right?”

“Yeah, but… sex is nice, isn’t it?”

Mark strokes your cheek, meeting your eyes. “Sex with you is always nice, but I think I kind of want to be domestic with you today instead, if that’s okay.”

Your heart clenches in your chest at his words. You can’t help but lean forward and kiss him gently. “That’s okay with me.”

“Good,” Mark grins. “Let's cuddle some more, and when you get hungry, I’ll take care of the food.”

As you slowly wake up next to Mark, you’re struck by how comfortable you are. Being with him like this feels natural. There’s no pressure to fuck, no need to suck dick in order to earn affection- Mark simply cares about you, and it’s clear in the way he holds you.

If you’re not careful, you could get used to this.

Fifteen

Since the ‘Christmas’ party, Mark’s been wanting to broach the subject of Jaehyun with you, but in the handful of times he’s slept over with you since then, it’s just never come up.

Today, watching Jaehyun talk with you by the bar, the question is fresh on Mark’s mind, and he only has one person he can justifiably ask about it.

“So… how close are Jae and y/n?”

“Hmm?” Hyuck looks up from the burger he’s stacking. “Oh, those two? Pretty close.”

Mark groans at the lack of detail. “Did they ever date?”

“I think she’s definitely his work crush. Pretty sure he’s asked her out a few times, but I don’t know if she realized it was a date sort of thing.��� Hyuck laughs to himself. “I actually walked in on him asking her out around Halloween, but I think she thought it was a group idea. She rejected him though.”

“Looks like he hasn’t taken the hint,” Mark says, mouth forming a firm line.

“Nah, Jae has a pretty big ego. I mean, you’ve seen his face. He’s not used to rejection, it doesn’t compute for him.”

Mark doesn’t say anything, he simply goes back to the alfredo he’s cooking. But it becomes clear that Hyuck doesn’t want to let this go.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you, Marky boy?”

“No.”

“Yes, you totally are,” Hyuck grins. “How long have you and Sunshine been seeing each other now?”

“Like… three weeks? A month almost?”

“Have you talked about being exclusive or anything?”

“Not really.”

Hyuck rolls his eyes. “It’s a yes or a no, Mark. There’s no ‘not really,’ when it comes to ‘the talk.’”

“No, we haven’t talked about it,” Mark admits with a sigh.

“Sounds like something you want though, right?” Hyuck presses.

“I thought I said I wasn’t going to talk to you about this anymore.”

“You’re the one who brought up Jae,” Hyuck points out, raising his hands in mock defense. 

Mark supposes Hyuck is right about that. He’s been considering defining the relationship recently- thinking about how a label could offer you safety, stability, things that are needed to help you relax. 

But now, the label transcends the use for comfortability and cumming, it almost feels needed.

You’re hot. Mark knows that. He sees the way people hit on you every day while you’re working. At first, he’d been okay with it- but now, he thinks maybe he needs something more. Maybe he needs the comfort of knowing that you’re taken, by him. 

He’s not the type to feel insecure, and he’s not even sure that insecurity is the right word for what he’s feeling.

All Mark knows, is that he wants to get to the next level with you, and he’s going to pull up his big boy pants to finally do it.

Sixteen

You’ve been at home for a few hours, having been cut from work early since it was a slow day, and you’re a little surprised when Mark calls you around dinner time.

“Hey you,” you grin, collapsing onto your bed to give Mark your full focus.

“Whatcha doin?” he asks.

“Just sitting here, was thinking of watching a movie. How about you? Just got off work?”

“Yeah, in a minute, just taking a vape break first. I was thinking maybe you’d let me see you when I’m off?”

“Definitely, you know my door is always open for you. But I should warn you, I have literally nothing in my fridge.”

“That’s okay, I’ll make your favourite and bring takeout,” Mark assures you. “See you in like… half an hour?”

That’s how Mark shows up on your home a short while later. You look him up and down, taking in his work outfit. “Didn’t wanna change after shift?” you grin, holding your door open for him.

“I uh, wanted to see you. Need a shower, so I figured I’d put on my fresh clothes after that.”

“Sounds good, you know that my home is your home. Go shower, I’ll put our food in bowls.” You accept the takeout from Mark, intent on turning to head to the kitchen- only for him to pull you back into an embrace.

“Hi,” he mumbles, kissing the side of your head and nuzzling against your hair.

“Hi,” you grin, turning in his arms to press your lips to his. “Go shower.”

“You got it.”

Mark goes into your bathroom, and a moment later you hear the water begin to run. You take your time in the kitchen. Mark has made himself alfredo, and he’s cooked your favourite rice bowl for you. You smile to yourself while plating the food, loving how domestic things have gotten with Mark.

Part of you is tempted to join Mark in the shower, but you’re not sure if you’re there yet, so you wait patiently for him to finish. This isn’t the first time he’s showered at your place, and you trust he’ll see his designated towel hanging on the hook behind your door. 

You kind of enjoy that he’s gotten so comfortable at your home. You’ve been spending so much time with him here and at work that it feels kind of odd when he’s not around. 

Soon, Mark is coming out of the bathroom. He’s in sweatpants and a tank top that shows off his tattoos. You have to actively stop yourself from drooling as you move to sit at the dinner table.

“So… did you need to talk to me about something?”

“Hmm?” Mark sits across from you.

“We didn’t have plans, you called and wanted to come over, I guess I’m just wondering if you had a specific reason.”

“Can’t I just miss you?” he grins.

Despite his words, it’s clear that there’s more to it, however you drop the issue. When Mark is ready to be real with you, he will be. You have time until then.

Mark begins to talk about work, how it had gotten busy after you’d left. You listen, happy to chat with him while you eat. 

After food, the two of you move to the couch, cuddling up while Netflix starts.

You’re two seasons into your anime already, it’s funny how time flies. You can turn your brain off when Mark spoons you, his lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulder every now and again.

One episode in, Mark reaches over you for the remote, pausing your show. 

“I guess there is a reason I wanted to come over,” he admits finally.

“Yeah?” You turn onto your back, looking up at him. 

“I hate to say that I’ve been jealous, but uh… since the Christmas party, I’ve been a little jealous about you and Jaehyun.” Mark won’t meet your eyes, and you give him the space to continue. “I just… people are always hitting on you, and I don’t know, I think… I mean, I’m a serial monogamist according to Hyuck, and I know we haven’t been seeing each other for that long, but I only see you, in all ways, and I just… I don’t want to lock you down if you’re not looking for something serious, but I guess I wanted to know how you feel about exclusivity and that sort of thing.”

“With you? Mark… I’d love to be exclusive.” You let out a small laugh. “Don’t you realize that I have to watch girls flirt with you too? Maybe we’ve both been jealous.  I think… locking each other down would be good for us.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s beaming now.

“You’re special,” you confess. “I’ve never been able to sleep next to a guy I’ve slept with, which feels like such a contradiction- but sleep has always come easy with you. I’ve never felt such a lack of pressure- such acceptance, for all of me, the good and the bad. I like you a lot Mark, and I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear.”

“It’s not that it wasn’t clear,” Mark assures you, cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I just… I know you have that wild side, which is totally valid, I just wasn’t sure you were a settling down type.”

“I wasn’t so sure I was either, and then I met you.”

Mark kisses you instead of responding, but you can feel the emotion in the press of his lips against yours. He’s elated by what you’ve just said, and you’re close to floating to cloud nine too. 

Even so, there’s something else. You can feel it in the slight tension of his shoulders when your fingers brush over his skin.

“Mark?” you break the kiss, blinking at him. “Is there something else on your mind?”

“It’s just… I know I said there’s no pressure, but I really wanna help you cum. And I’ve been thinking maybe… maybe we could use some of your toys.”

“My toys?”

“Like… some girls cum better with a vibrator, and if you have one, I’d love to use it on you.”

“Really?” You’re shocked. Lots of men think their dick is good enough, they feel emasculated to bring sex toys into the mix- but here’s Mark, being as contrarian as ever. 

“Even if it doesn’t help you cum, I still think it would be fun. I’m not trying to pressure you-”

“We can use my vibrator,” you assure him, heart thundering in your rib cage at the mere thought of it. 

No man has ever used a sex toy on you- it’s probably one of the reasons you’ve never cum with a lover before.

“Come on,” you sit up, heading to your bedroom while Mark follows. “I keep my toys in the closet,” you explain, bending down to find the shoe box that stores your vibrator. You pull the device out, showing it to Mark. “Is this going to work?”

“Yeah, it will work.” Mark watches you stand up, and he holds out his hand for you to pass the toy to him. “I’m uh… I’m gonna put this down so I can get you naked.”

“Okay,” you grin.

He sets the vibrator on your bed gently, turning to you. Mark grabs your face first, pulling you in for a kiss. He’s gentler than you thought he would be, but you don’t mind it. You like getting lost in the feeling of Mark, allowing him to guide you toward the bed.

When you reach your mattress, his hands slip down to the hem of your shirt. He carefully removes it, and you lift your arms to help him with the task. Mark doesn’t immediately go for your pants next, he kisses you again instead, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other grabs the small of your back.

His touch is so gentle, smoothing across your skin. It’s making you even more eager, and you find yourself removing his shirt before he begins to work on your sleep shorts. Soon, you’re just in a bra and panties, but even those get taken off. 

When you’re completely bare, Mark gently pushes you down onto your bed, eyes taking in your body.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he muses.

Your skin heats at the praise, and you begin to close your thighs, only for Mark to gently prompt them open. 

“Don’t hide from me, please,” Mark says softly, getting onto his knees at the foot of your bed. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your clit before he pushes his tongue into your wet hole.

You breathe a sigh of relief, threading your fingers through his hair. You adjust your thighs on his shoulders, trailing your toes against his well-defined back. 

He eats you out for a little while, groaning as he goes. It’s clear to you now that Mark enjoys getting his fill of you, and it makes the experience ten times more enjoyable for you. You’ve been getting better at slowing your mind while Mark licks at your clit, better at focusing on him and not all the worrying thoughts that generally buzz around you.

You feel the bed shift, and you open your eyes to see Mark has reached for the vibrator. He turns it on, assessing the way the toy shakes on the lowest setting. “Do you wanna show me where to use this, sunshine?” he asks, holding it out to you.

With a deep breath, you nod, accepting the toy and bringing it to your clit. “I like… a good amount of pressure,” you tell him, showing him exactly where you like the vibrator to be held.

It feels kind of odd to be pleasuring yourself like this in front of Mark, but from the way his pupils are blown, eyes fixed completely on your core, you can tell that he’s enjoying the view. It makes you feel more confident, as you begin to drag the vibrator side to side, teasing yourself. 

“This sort of movement is good too,” you tell him.

“Can I take over now?” he asks.

You nod, allowing him to grab the handle of the toy. 

Now that you’re not the one holding it, you can focus completely on the feeling of your clit being vibrated. It feels amazing, your toes curling at the stimulus.

Mark’s free hand is on your inner thigh, smoothing against your skin, but soon, it joins the vibrator. He teases two fingers along your folds before pushing them into you, crooking them up to find the spongey spot that has you crying out.

“You make such pretty sounds,” Mark tells you, applying more pressure to your clit with the vibe. “Fuck, I could watch you like this all night.”

“Puppy-” you whimper, skin tingling at his words.

“You have no idea how good you look,” he continues. “I swear- I want you to cum, but even if you don’t, I’m not going to be able to forget about this. This view is- fuck, it’s the best view in the world. We’re going to be at work and this is all I’ll be thinking about. I won’t be able to get you out of my head.”

With each admittance, each uttered word of praise, you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach.

“Can you grind on this a little, sunshine? Grind on my fingers and your toy?”

“Yeah-” you whimper, hips moving as you try to follow with his prompt. 

“That’s it-” Mark groans. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

His fingers work harder inside of you, and the added pressure makes you squeal. You can’t help the way one of your arms comes up to cover your face, muffling your sounds as your body moves on it’s own accord now. You’re grinding against his hand, grinding against the vibrator that sends tremors of pleasure through your entire form.

“I’m so fucking lucky,” Mark tells you. “So lucky that you’re mine- I could watch you like this for hours and not get bored.”

“Mark-” you groan. Usually, when you acknowledge an orgasm building, it dissipates, like some cruel trick of fate, a complete defiance of the laws of physics- but this time, when you whimper “I’m close” the feeling doesn't fade, it only builds.

“Yeah?” Mark sounds shocked. “All it took was a vibe, huh?”

“And… and your praise-”

“You like when I talk dirty to you, sunshine?” Mark asks. “Like it when I tell you how perfect and pretty you are?”

“Yes-”

“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Or should I finger fuck this cute little pussy even harder?”

“Oh my God-” you whimper. Mark has truly gotten comfortable with you now- he’s not holding back with his sinful words, and they make your stomach pull into a tight knot. “Please, harder-”

Mark presses the vibrator against your clit, turning up the vibration with his thumb while his fingers continue their brutal pace inside your core.

You find yourself gasping, unable to speak as he works you closer and closer-

“Cumming-” you whisper, your orgasm slamming into you like a train. 

Your breath catches, waves of pleasure surging through you. Your fists grip the sheets, your back arches, your thighs quaking around Mark. Whimpers and moans fill the room, your core pulsating around Mark’s fingers while he works you through your high.

“That’s it,” Mark groans. “That’s my good girl.”

“Puppy-” you breathe, the feeling almost becoming too much for you.

“What do you need, sunshine?”

“Your cock,” you blurt out. 

“Yeah?” Mark’s fingers slow inside your pussy. 

“Please, wanna cum on your cock-”

Mark lets out a breath. “Holy fuck.” He turns the vibrator off, taking his digits from your core. Mark licks them clean before he stands up, pushing down his sweatpants. “Move up the bed for me?” he suggests.

You wiggle up to the pillows, watching Mark get onto the mattress. He allows you to lock your legs around his hips, pulling him close while he crashes his lips to yours.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, kissing him deeply. He ruts his hips, allowing you to feel his cock dragging against your core.

Patience is a virtue, but you don’t have any left. You reach between your bodies, grabbing his hard length to line it up with your pussy. 

Mark slides into you, and you let out an immediate sigh of relief. His fingers had been nice, but his cock is even better. It stretches you open, you can feel him deeper than ever. You gasp against his mouth, dragging him closer as he begins to thrust into you. 

“You feel so good, sunshine,” Mark groans, breaking the kiss so he can press his lips to your throat. 

“Puppy-” you whimper, arching your neck so he has better access to find your sweet spot.

Mark captures your hands, lacing your fingers and pressing you into the bed while he fucks you. 

You can feel him everywhere. You’re completely bewitched by Mark Lee. Your core is practically dripping, each thrust made easy by the wet that exudes out of you. 

Then Mark is reaching for your vibrator. He sits up slightly, looking down at you. “Missionary? Or maybe doggy would be better?”

“I wanna see you when I cum again,” you tell him, accepting the vibrator he holds out to you. “Want you to see me cum with your cock in my pussy.”

Mark lets out a low groan, pressing his lips to yours as you turn on the toy, adjusting it onto your clit.

“If you can’t cum, that’s okay-”

“I think I’ll cum,” you assure him. “Just fuck me hard, and I’ll get there.”

“I can do that,” Mark grins, immediately picking up his pace and adding more power to his thrusts.

“And… tell me I’m pretty again?”

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Mark groans. “I’m so fucking lucky- how did I ever get this lucky?”

“Puppy-”

“You have no idea how into you I am- I love your sounds, love your voice- love the face you make when you feel good- love your smile-”

Each admittance has your heart buzzing in your chest. It’s crazy how easy it is for him to praise you- it almost feels like all these things were built up inside, like he’s a dam that’s just been released, and God, you love the flood.

You press the vibrator harder against your clit, entire body surging with energy. 

“You’re squeezing me so well, baby,” Mark groans, and the sound has your pussy throbbing. “Want you to cum with me so bad, do you think you can cum with me?”

“Yeah, just- kiss me?” you suggest.

Mark presses his lips to yours immediately, cupping your face with one hand. His tongue glides against your own. You eat up each other's sounds, getting completely lost in each other.

In no time at all, another orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’m gonna-” you whimper against his lips.

Mark fucks you even harder in response, and the motion is dizzying. 

“Please, sunshine, cum with me- fuck, I can’t hold it, cum with me-”

His words are your last straw as you explode on his cock. Your core clamps down hard, gasps of extacy escaping you.

To Mark’s credit, he holds off his own high long enough to fuck you through yours, and the moment you begin to be oversitmulated, he cums too. You can feel his cock throbbing in your pussy, his load spilling along your insides and coating your walls.

You kiss him deeply, enjoying his whimpers of pleasure.

You’ve never cum with someone balls deep inside of you before, and there’s a voice in the back of your mind itching for you to tell Mark that you love him- but you bite your tongue. You simply kiss him, holding him close while he finishes.

Finally, Mark lets out a small gasp, pulling away from your lips. His forehead presses against yours, and you’re both breathing heavily.

You’ve never felt this connected to someone in your entire life.

“Are you going to get us tissues?” you ask after a moment, letting out a small laugh.

Mark chuckles, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss. “I just wanna enjoy you a second longer.”

“Puppy, you have literally all the time in the world.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I really wanted to kick the year off with something more realistic. I wanted to write about a reader who over thinks, who doesn’t cum super easily like we usually see in fanfic. I wanted to touch on the realism of relationships, the use of sex toys, things discussed in the bonus like whiskey dick, domestic showers together and troubles sleeping next to someone new- I really hope you guys liked this even though it’s not as classic fanfic as I usually write :) 

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “I drank too much,” Mark admits. “Hyuck kept egging me on- I’m pretty sure he wanted to get me blackout so I couldn’t fuck you tonight- But I swear- whisky dick won’t last all night,” Mark tells you. “And, I mean, you know I love using your toys so it doesn’t even matter.” He’s adorable. Of course Hyuck wouldn’t take into account that sometimes Mark is perfectly happy making you cum with your toys and not fucking you at all. Mark truly is a man built for your pleasure, and you’re not surprised that ‘whiskey dick’ hasn’t phased him.

cw/ tw. drunk!Mark, shower shenanigans, fingering, pussy eating, use of toys/g spot stimulator, Mark has ‘whiskey dick’ and can’t get hard at first, unprotected sex, praise, dirty talk, munch!Mark, creampie/fullness kink, etc…  I petnames. (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 starring. Mark x afab!Reader

bonus

“Puppy?” You sit up in bed, holding your phone close. Mark’s at some boys night thing, and you really hadn’t expected to hear from him, but here he is, calling you at midnight.

“Hi, Sunshine.” 

“Hi Sunshine!” Someone else screams in the background.

“Oh my god, fuck off, Hyuck!” Mark yells back. “Not you, baby, I’m talking to Hyuck.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, “I gathered that.”

You’ve also gathered that your boyfriend is drunk. You can hear it in his voice, and when he begins to hiccup, it’s even more evident.

“So uh, I wanna see you.”

“You can see me tomorrow, we have dinner plans, right?”

“No, I wanna see you tonight and tomorrow,” Mark insists. 

“You do, huh?” God, he’s adorable.

“Yes, please.”

“Don’t you want to finish boys night?” you prompt, not wanting to get in the way of his time with friends. You know Jeno would get mad about Mark spending time with his ex instead of his boys, and you don’t want to be that girlfriend who restricts her lover from his bros.

“Nah, fuck this,” Mark says. “Jeno went home with a girl, it’s just me and Hyuck and Renjun and Chenle and Jaemin and Jisung-” Sweet Jesus, he’s listing half of your work staff. “But I wanna be with you. I can call a cab and be at your place in like, fifteen minutes?”

“Whatever you want, puppy,” you grin. “I’ll be here.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.3k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

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Thank you to those who interacted with the teaser

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[esperata]

End of year wip round-up

Time to look through my files of notes and see what plots I have still waiting attention, and perhaps assess where they are in the scale of projects. Colour coded for riddlebird, hattercrow, wahsbands or octogoblin. I'm always open to questions on my projects. In fact, please do ask if you want to encourage them to be written.

Starting with some I have posted as unfinished works.

OTT (LEGO Batman) : I intend to post a second chapter for this, showing how well Riddler's plan turns out.

Gay Attorney (Gotham/Ace Attorney) : This is supposed to have multiple chapters with the various 'witnesses' taking the stand.

Little Bird (Batwoman) : Not sure where this is heading but a follow up chapter seems necessary.

P.I. Riddler (DC comics) : I have an outline of the idea for this but not sure how many chapters it will require to complete.

Urban Legends (Batman - all media) : There is going to be a continuation here with other rogues making an appearance.

What Is Reality? (Btas) : I already have a second chapter started and a concept of where its going, including a 'final' scene.

A few extra Mahou AU story ideas.

Killer Croc vs Jonathan (Arkhamverse) : This is an interesting conflict I'd like to write.

Grown up Ed gets powers (Burtonschumacher) : We only saw one half of this duo in my first story so it seems fair to bring in Riddler.

Take A Chance on Me (Arkhamverse) : Pitting the pair against the machinations of Hugo Strange.

Oz mentors Ed (The Batman) : Does what it says on the tin.

The Curse of Alice (1960s) : Again an interesting development I'd like to explore.

Future Hattercrow (Gotham) : Not sure about this but considering this pair twenty years further on.

The Telltale series.

You Only Live Twice : Oswald is being mentored but demands Edward treat him as an equal if he truly respects him.

For Your Eyes Only : Edward gets trapped by the Agency and suffers their virus before returning to Oswald.

The Spy Who Loved Me : Oswald helps Edward through the aftereffects, unwilling to lose anyone else to madness.

Live and Let Die : Riddler is planning his return to Gotham, letting Oswald into the secrets of his past to convince him.

The Living Daylights : A continuation of the story arc.

New stand alone ideas.

Babysitter : Wario is cajoled into babysitting Bowser's kids and calls Waluigi in for reinforcements.

Sherrif Wario : Waluigi rides into town and immediately gets called a trouble maker by the Mario bros. Wario makes his own assessment.

Good Omens : A friend suggested Alfred Molina as Aziraphale and Willem Dafoe as Crowley which is a fantastic idea.

Fate Or Something Like It : I really wanted to consider the timeline after Norman got back from No Way Home. How he might try to save Otto from his fate.

Old Friends, Bitter Enemies : I watched the Spider-man PS game and love the dynamic of Norman and Otto. It would be worth playing with.

Skyscraper : Basically a PWP. Be fun to write.

Misunderstandings : Oswald overhears Ed saying something he shouldn't.

Batman vs Dracula (2004 cartoon) : A re-write of the film except bringing Riddler into the story.

Halloween Topsy Turvy : A fancy dress party at the Lounge causes feelings to run high.

Streamer Ed (btas) : Ed works as a streamer, with Jon and Jervis as mods, and a habit of review Iceberg Lounge promotional videos.

Gotham Gossip (Gotham) : Newspaper column style fic charting their rising and falling relationship. I still like this concept but am struggling with the media.

Kids museum meeting (comics) : A look back at how they might have met as children.

Secret Admirer : Where both Oswald and Ed are the other's secret admirer.

Tattoos (comics) : Oswald has tattoos - Ed is intrigued.

Olga My Queen (1960s/Gotham) : What if the Queen of Cossacks was Oswald's maid?

Gotta Shape Up (Harley Quinn series) : ngl I lost impetus with this show but I still like this idea - Ed having to step up with Joshua after Oswald's demise.

The King Is Dead : Similar concept in that it looks at how Riddler might react in the wake of Penguin's demise.

Wrap You Around My Finger : Ed is new to Gotham and thinks it'll be easy to cajole favours from Penguin. He is wrong.

Western AU : I wanted a fic with Jonathan on a horse thus this idea was born.

Are We Friends? (Gotham) : Ed struggles to pin down just what their relationship is during Oswald's eye recovery period. Again, not super confident writing in this media now.

Rogues Go Skiing (LEGO) : Cutesy vacation style slice of life.

Arkham sitcom : Exactly as it says, chapters done with mini plots happening, all within Arkham asylum.

Bookshop (1960s) : Penguin owns a book store and has suitors competing for him - Riddler vs Bookworm

Pre-Arkham : What if Jon and Jervis met before either became rogues?

Trans Oswald (The Batman) : Not actually a romantic fic but more angsty, considering what if he'd had a child in his younger years.

Merman Oz (2004 cartoon) : I just like the visual of him as a mermaid.

What You Love Most (Arkhamverse) : Another angsty piece where Ed doesn't realise Oswald's feelings.

Drive-in Movie (Batwheels) : Simultaneous riddlebird and Ducky/Quizz.

Music Meister (Arkhamverse) : Don't tell me the concept of Oz being forced to sing isn't hilarious.

Rumour Mill : Jonathan steps in when rumours spread about Jervis.

Trans Ed (Arkhamverse) : I wanted to write Oz facing his own transphobia but I'm not sure I can do the topic with the required sensitivity.

Hypnotism : As a hattercrow fan, its almost a rite of passage to write Jervis using his powers on Jon.

Merry Little Batman : I'm always drawn to new media variations.

More continuations.

The World Is Your Oyster sequel : What would life be like living with an octo-person?

Post Game (Arkhamverse) : A possibly final installment to my arkham Games series.

Nobody Said It Was Going To Be Easy sequel (btas) : Not sure this is something I still want to do honestly.

The Boss (The Batman) : Picking up their story post film.

Angel!Ed/Demon!Oz (2004 cartoon) : Bringing the contrasting pair actually together.

Pax Penguina sequel (Gotham) : I have no impetus to continue this one at present.

The Real Deal sequel (btas) : Considering whether Ed might get his own larger than life Penguin doll.

The King Of Gotham sequel (comics) : Picking up where the story ends off. Not finished posting the original yet.

[youralternantpersonality]

Welcome My Dear Friend

Warning: N/a

A/n: You know me, I got to write a novel before you can get to the great stuff. I think I keep getting the movie and books mixed up. If I did, sorry. But just enjoy it lol, that's all that matters, right?

Tags: @pillowjj @summeerrr

***

Y/n POV:

I'm walking through the streets of Ontario, Vanity on one side and her "boyfriend" of the month on the other. Ever since the loss of Leo, she's been happily carrying out her dream of living her college experience that she never got to act out. Comes to find out, Leo wasn't her mate; he was her stalker from when they were human. Long story short, they went to college together in the '70s, and he was obsessed with her. One night, lurking outside of her dorm, he was attacked by, you guessed it, a vampire. So, like the trifling ass he was, he attacked her and basically held her hostage all this time. Abusive and manipulative—she wanted a way out. She wasn't expecting wolves to be real, but if she could thank them without getting killed, she would.

Anyway, it has been a little over six months or so since that faithful night in La Push, where I was never seen again. I never got to say goodbye to my family and friends, and when I found out that there was a search for me going on, it was hard to watch. My family and friends posting photos on social media, talking to the police, and holding a conference, all of it broke my heart.  We head back to our hotel room thanks to David—wait, was it David? Yeah, I'm going to say David—who graciously paid for two. Unfortunately, no matter how far apart our rooms are, I can still hear them. Fucking vampire hearing. Oh, if you hadn't figured it out, Vanity changed me. I honestly don't really know if I am mad or not. On the one hand, I am pissed; I'd rather be dead than be the walking dead, feeding off people—I prefer the criminals if I'm honest. But I'd rather not have my body lost in a ditch somewhere or parts of it in a shark's mouth.

Regardless, I really want to go back home, but I don't want to leave Vanity. If I had to describe her, I'd say she is like Harley Quinn. Rambunctious, emotional, kind of stupid but smart, party animal, and promiscuous. All of which attracts her victims. Whereas, there's me, the complete opposite of her—I ground her and keep her from being irrational, and she makes sure I "live a little" since I try not to go on a killing spree and I'd prefer to not have my first time with some random guy who I might accidentally kill. Again, I'd prefer to go after the major criminals, male or female, and not the innocent bystanders. I may or may not do active searching in the area for criminal records. I leave the petty crime alone; it's the others with no sense of morality that I play with.  A few hours later, Vanity knocks on my door and tells me that we're heading out.

"Where’s David?” I said, swinging my bag over my shoulder and looking around. She gave me a look and rolled her eyes but smiles.

“His name is Kyle. I assume my next victim will be named David?” She looks up at me and smiles. I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. I have this weird ability to know things. I don’t know how I know it, but I just know it, you know? Almost like an enhanced intuition. Not like a psychic, but I just…know what’s next. Harley Quinn Jr. over here is basically a succubus—natural raw talent to draw men in. I mean, yes, vampires can do that naturally, but she could wear a mask, and her voice calls them in.

“I guess we’ll see in the next coming days. Or weeks,” I say, looking ahead leaving the hotel. “So, I can assume that we’re leaving Kyle back at the hotel and heading somewhere? Outside of Canada?”

“Yes, my dear, you are absolutely correct. How about South America? I’ve never been outside of the U.S. That bastard never wanted to. It was ‘unnecessary’ and ‘we have everything we need here,’ pathetic ass.” she says, rolling her eyes at the thought of him. I laugh and change our course location.

“How about Italy instead?” I say, getting a better feeling. She stops and looks at me and smiles.

“Oh! Even better! But we need to be careful.” She said in seriousness.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with Italy?”

“Well, the Volturi is there. Remember how I was telling you about these vampire police/mafia? Well, that’s them. They live in Volterra. I think we can visit, but staying there longer than a week, well really 3 days, may raise a red flag.” Vanity said.

“So, visiting the castle/church is basically out of the question?”

“Yes. They stay there, and the better we lay low, the more fun we can have. Why did you say Italy anyway?” she looked up at me with curiosity. We step up to an ATM machine and take out enough money from Dav-Kyles card and then discard it somewhere where it won’t be found.

“Do we really need to know that answer?” I said, looking at her with a smile. She shakes her head and laughs as we continue onward towards the bus station.

“You need to eat before we stay near anyone.” She tells me. I nod my head and search out for my next meal. I listen to my intuition and walk ahead of us. Weaving around people, turning down different streets until I come upon a high-class looking neighborhood. I calmly walk down the street listening for my next direction.

“Take a left on 5th, then right on the first alleyway. They’ll come,” my inner self said. I follow as instructed and wait. Vanity stopped questioning the things I know and follows along with it. It never led us in a bad situation, and she learned I wouldn’t put us in one. Believe it or not, she’s not evil, misguided maybe, but not bad. Speaking of being evil or not. Here comes our meal.

It was a man, a woman, and a child around six. I looked at Vanity, and she looked back at me. We nodded our heads and waited for the perfect moment. The man, “5’8” dirty blond hair, lanky, with tattoos across his body, was walking in front of the woman and child. The woman—who was “5’3”, long brunette hair with pale skin—was walking together with a little boy with black curly hair, big wide eyes, and dimples. They didn’t see us in the corner of the alley watching them. The man turned around, and before he could do anything, Vanity was behind him. The look on the woman’s face was in a state of shock. Vanity grabbed him by his collar and tossed him near the garbage bin. I looked at the woman, then at the boy, and walked towards her while Vanity was having her meal. I could hear a struggle, and I blocked the little boy's sight.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” I smiled. We walked back in the direction they came from, finding a frantic mother looking for him. We retrieved the little boy to her and walked back to where her lover (I assume) would be dead at. As we rounded the corner to the alley, I shoved her and made sure she saw my face before I ended her life. Like the life she and her trash partner in crime almost took. Discarding the body and gaining enough fill to complete the bus ride, we head back and proceed to Italy.

~~~

“Remind me to never get on a plane again,” I told Vanity as she skips through the terminal.

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t that bad.” She said sarcastically.

“I’m going to ignore that comment. Now that we’re here, you can lead the way.” She smiles and proceeds to give me the rundown of what we need to do and where we need to go. It didn’t take long to find willing victims to help us. After going to the bathroom to switch out our contacts, we sat at the airport's bar and waited. It wasn’t long afterward that two men walk up to us and proceed to have a conversation.

“My friend and I are stuck here until we can get a hotel room. Somehow, our reservation didn’t go through, and so now we’re stuck. You wouldn’t by happen to know any hotels nearby that aren’t too expensive, would you?” Vanity said, laying it hard on Thing 1 while I played the shy and sad yet worried friend to Thing 2.

“Of course, we do. How about you guys come back to ours, and we can help you get settled in. We’re here on business, and we could use some company while here.” Thing 1 said. We smiled as if we were so grateful and played the willing idiots they thought we were. We left the bar and headed towards their car and to the hotel. We checked in and proceeded to the room. Vanity and I shared a look at one another and smiled. We weren’t going to kill them; we just needed to use them. Then what Vanity does next is entirely up to her. Over the next couple of days, we convinced Thing 1 and Thing 2 to buy us separate rooms but proceeded to see them. It was currently eleven at night, and Vanity and I decided to head towards Volterra. We checked out and went on foot, going unnoticed to others around. Once we hit some wooded areas, we set sail. About an hour later, I was given instructions.

“Turn left, go up a hill, sharp right, then wait.” I do as instructed, and Vanity follows. She asked what I was doing, and I just pointed to my head. After coming to the location, we wait.

“I know there’s a reason, but is there a reason as to why we’re here?” I look at her and shrug my shoulders. Not long afterward, we hear footsteps running towards us.

“Don’t be afraid.” I hear, and Vanity’s face pops in my head. I grab her hand and give her a smile to ease her worry. I let go of her hand as we come upon four figures. Not even 30 seconds later, I hear

“Hot damn.” I look at Vanity and watch her look at the bigger guy of the group. He smiles, and she smiles back at him. I hid my smile behind my hand and try not to laugh out loud. The big boy goes around the blonde little girl in front of him and steps up to her.

“Hello there, I’m Felix. What might your name be mia bella” he says, looking down at her. ‘Ol boy is huge, and I mean Vanity has to lift her head all the way up to look at him. She smiles at him and raises her hand towards him to shake.

“The names Vanity handsome.” She says, giving her signature smile that brings men weak to the knees. They smile at one another, and the little blonde girl announces herself.

“Felix, let's go. Aro will be expecting us.” And they runoff. Felix rolls his eyes and puts out an arm for Vanity to grab and acknowledges me to follow. We make it to the castle, and we are directed to the three kings Vanity has told me about. And dear God, are they some ugly ass people. Aren't Vampires supposed to be pretty?

Long story short, Vanity found her mate and is basically forced to stay here. I, on the other hand, have no need or want to stay here. Aro can read people's minds by touching them (ew) and picking up on my wanting to leave. No amount of coercing will get me to stay. Vanity understood, but I did promise to stay for a while. Just long enough to know that If I leave, I know Vanity would be safe. But by the time I chose to leave, I was instructed not to.

“You’re staying!” she said/asked me, jumping on my couch while Felix stood in the doorway. I smiled and shook my head.

“No, but I will stay for a little while longer,” I said, tapping on my timple. She nodded her head and hugged me. “Plus, I’m still iffy about Felix here. How do I know you won't hurt her?” I said, half-joking half-serious. But with a smile. He smiled back, understanding the underline warning in my tone.

“I promise you, I would kill myself before I hurt a hair on her head.” I nodded my head.

“Remember, I’ll know if something is wrong...” I said, looking at him.

“And that’s why I love you!” Vanity said, hugging my neck. “Did I ever thank you for choosing Italy as our destination?” I laughed and nodded my head.

“Only about a thousand times.” We continued to talk until Demitri came to let us know it was almost mealtime. We left and went to the main room. Felix and Vanity joined them as I spoke to the receptionist. All of a sudden, I notice three people leaving. A human girl and two vampires I recognized from Forks.

“Bella?” they stopped and looked at me. Her eyes widen as she recognized who I was.

“Y/n?! Wha-what, what happened to you?!” before I could respond, Vanity and Felix come back out, hearing the conversation.

“Well, I changed.” I shrug my shoulders. Alice and Edward are just as surprised, and Vanity breaks the awkwardness.

“Hi! I’m Vanity. Who are you guys?” she asked sweetly. I respond to her.

“This is Alice and Edward Cullen, and the human girl is Bella. We all lived in the same area as each other.” She nodded her head. She looked back at me and gave me a sad smile. We realized this is why I didn't leave when I necessarily wanted to.

“Come on. You can tell us everything on the way.” Alice said sweetly. I hugged the shit out of Vanity, and she gave them a warning as I gave Felix earlier. We grabbed some robes and headed back towards Forks. I have a lot of explaining to do.

~~~

Once we landed, I texted Vanity and talked to Alice, Bella, and Edward. I told them I will explain everything when we get to their house. Within an hour of talking to them, I figured Edward and Alice out quickly.

“Be careful of your thoughts and actions...” was the first thought. “He’s a Mindreader” was the second. And “She’s a Psychic” was the third. Edward was slightly standoffish from me knowing, but Alice was ecstatic. It was amusing. She and Vanity would be great friends, trouble makers, but best friends. When we pull up to their house, I notice the rest of the family waiting outside. To say that they were shocked, seeing me is a stretch. The same questions Bella had in Volterra was written on all of their faces. So we proceeded inside to where I explained what happened after my disappearance a few months ago.

“So, I guess I should start from the beginning...” and I proceeded to tell them what happened that night with Vanity, Leo, and the three wolves that came after us. How Vanity decided to throw me into the water and swim off with me. How I basically drowned, and she changed me while underwater. Biting every central artery area and swimming off with me. Now, how did I survive? No idea. It was painful. The transformation and the added pain of not breathing were so frightening that I passed out. We made it to land not too far from the cliff, and she ran towards Canada, unknowing to the wolves. There is where we stayed for the next few months, back and forth from Canada to Alaska and back. I explained what happened and why we were in Italy and how I made a full circle in under a year. Before anyone could ask a question, Edward called out,

“Jakes here.” I looked at him in shock. “You have to hide,” Edward said to me. I looked at him as if he lost his mind.

“What? Why? I won't hurt him. Jakes, my friend.” I said defensively. Believe it or not, I gained significant control over my thirst thanks to my ability. Learning to listen to it helped me better than expected. It took a while to trust it completely, but I’ve learned to do so.

“Y/n. Jake isn't the same Jake as before. He’s...changed.” Bella said. Oh no... the last time I heard that I lost my best friend. I shook my head.

“No...don't say that. Jake wouldn't know as long as I have my contacts in.” Before anyone could say anything, there was Jake, outside looking nothing how the Jake I knew before looked. He was outside asking for Bella to make sure she isn't a “leech.” What the fuck? I went outside to see what the hell was going on, and that’s when Jake saw me. I looked at him and saw why they said he was different. He changed, just like Jared did.

“Y/n! Is that...is that you!?” Jake yelled/whispered, looking at me. I smiled a wave awkwardly.

“Hey, Jake.” He looked in disbelief.

“Hey, Jake? Hey Jake?! You disappear for six months and come back as, as, THIS! And all you can say is HEY!!!” I flinch, taking a step back. “Did that girl do this to you?” I looked at him, confused.

“How did you know about that?” I asked. He shook his head and backed away. A few seconds later, he shifted...into a fucking wolf. Now it clicked together with why Jared went from friendly to hostile. Jake ran off into the woods and howled.

“Jake is going to tell Sam. Prepare to meet up with them,” Edward said. Which Rosalie responded with an eye roll and a sarcastic “Great.” Something tells me that things are about to get real interesting.

 Part 1: Hello My Dear Friend

Part 2: Goodbye My Dear Friend

Part 3: Welcome My Dear Friend

Part 4: Why My Dear Friend

Part 5: End My Dear Friend

Request Open! (Go to the description bar on my page to put one in)

[multi-fandom-fanfiction]

Can I get a glee sons of anarchy vampire diaries pll ship please I'm a bisexual girl that is good at drawing acting singing dancing and I like reading singing acting dancing writing and i like old music want my hair shaved half way and a nose piercing I also want a mororbike

Glee

Rachel Berry

Rachel would be so accepting and supportive of your sexuality. She would be amazed at all your talent. She would say you two were the power couple of glee club and the world. Rachel would love to study your drawings. She would help you read your lines and practice when you are auditioning for plays, broadways, movies, and tv shows. Rachel is obsessed with your voice and adores singing duets with you or listening to you sing. She loves to watch you dance. She loves how in your own world and happy you are. Rachel would ask you to read to her all the time just so she can hear the excitement in your voice or the excitement on your face as you read the book. Rachel always read with you or more like would watch you and pretend she was reading. Rachel would spend hours reading the things you write. She would be so engrossed and in love with the worlds, you can create with just your brain. Rachel loves all types of music so she loves listing to your old music singing and dancing along or just letting it play in the background as you two talk. When you mentioned getting half your hair shaved she didn’t think she would like it but when you came back with it. She thought it was the hottest thing ever. She was proven wrong when you got the nose ring and then again when you got on your new motorbike in front of her for the first time.

or

Sam Evans

Sam wouldn’t care about your sexuality. He loves you for you, not your sexual orientation. Sam would constantly want you to draw him and pictures for him. He would keep tons of your artwork. The blonde would be mesmerized by your talent and spend tons of time looking at them and watching you draw them. Sam would love to watch you perform in plays, broadway, tv shows, movies, anything. He loved watching you act. You look so happy on reading the lines and it brought a smile to his face every time. Sam and you both had voices like angels and were a singing power couple in glee club. You sang duets together constantly. Sung to one another all the time. Sam loved your voice so he adored hearing you sing. if he was upset, stressed, or angry he went to you and had you sing for him. Sam loved to watch you dance. He didn’t always have pg 13 thoughts in his head but he loved to watch you dance. The way you looked as if you felt you were the only person on the planet. The skillful way your body moved. Sam adored every step of you dancing. Sam always teased you about how much you read but he actually found it adorable. Sam would have your read to him both for enjoyment and studying purposes. Sam loved the small gasp and awws and huffs of air that flew from your mouth while reading as well as the cute angry, mad, sad, happy, etc. expressions. Sam loved to hear what you were writing. He always felt good when he would help you if you got stuck on a certain part. When you got writer's block he would make you relax while he read through everything you wrote to try to help. Sam wouldn’t like your music at first but as time went on he would actually really enjoy it. He would never admit it but actually didn’t mind listening to it now. Sam had always thought you were the most beautiful girl ever but when you came home with you head half-shaved and nose pierced sitting on top of a new Harley you just bought he knew he was mistaken. He was speechless and in awe at how gorgeous you looked.

Sons of anarchy

Lyla Dvorak-Winston

I ship you with Lyla because she would not be phased by your sexuality because she also considers herself bisexual. She loves your drawings and hangs them up all over the house. You even draw with Ellie, Kenny, and Piper. She even asked you to teach her how to draw. She loves to hear you sing. She can listen to you sing for hours. She loves to watch you dance and she loves to dance with you. She loves for you to give her a lap dance to get her in the mood. She loves to watch you act whatever you may be doing movies, tv shows, music videos, porn whatever. You both consider her an actress in her own right. So you both were really supportive of each other's careers. She loves to read what you write. She feels so accomplished when she can help you. Lyla wouldn’t be super into your old music she would be more into dancey or rock music but as long as you were happy she would listen to anything you wanted. She found you intoxicating before but after you shaved half your head and got you nose pierced then bought a motorbike she found you irresistible. She found it so badass and so hot she couldn’t keep her hands off of you.

or 

Juan Carlos "Juice" Ortiz 

I ship you with Juice. He would love your drawings. He would fill his house and jail cells with your drawings. He would pose and have you draw him and he would even have you draw tattoo ideas for him. Anytime he saw you running lines or acting, in general, he filled with pride. He would constantly brag to the other guys about you anytime you appeared on their screens or anytime really. He loved when you sang. if he was having a particularly rough night and couldn’t sleep he would have you sing to him. He would have you perform for the club and their parties and brag all night to anyone that will listen. Your dancing makes him both in love and turned on all in one. The movement of your body gotten him hard in seconds and also happy you were happy and enjoying yourself.  He found your love for books adorable. He loves watching you read and he loves having you read to him. He loves to read anything you write. He proofreads everything and he helps whenever he can. He wouldn’t mind your old-time music but it wouldn’t be his favorite. Juice was always about you being you and doing whatever made you happy so when you said you wanted to shave half your head he went with you and paid for it. When you told him you thought of getting a nose piercing he did the research and scheduled the appointment. Took you and cheered you on as it happened. He found you stunning and ravishing no matter how you looked. One day he saw you checking out a motorbike so he surprised you with it. He just wanted to make his Princessa happy. 

for

the vampire diaries

Katherine Pierce

Katherine was a jealous person and thought of every woman and man as competition from the moment you told her you were bi. She loves you drawings and admires them. She has you draw her constantly. She even tried to encourage you to try to become a professional artist. She thought you were an incredible actress and even used you when she needed help to lie and deceive people. She loved your singing and even had you sing to her multiple times. Your dancing amazed her. She loved how free and careless you looked. She would tease you for reading all the time but the truth is it made her insecure. She felt you were far smarter than her and she didn’t deserve you. She loved to read your writing and would spend her free time reading it. Katherine always encouraged you to be a professional artist, writer, dancer, singer, actress anything because she felt you were the most talented human on the planet. Katherine thought you looked absolutely stunning normally but when you came home one day on a motorbike half your head shaved and your nose pierced she thought you looked like a badass goddess.

or

Matt Donovan

Matt doesn’t care if you are bisexual. He loves your drawings. He admires how you can take a word or a memory or anything really and draw it so beautifully and vividly. He loves to see you act because of how happy it makes you. He heard you sing when you were cleaning one day and from then on he was obsessed. He would have you sing at the grill and at all the events in mystic fall he could. He loved to watch you dance how hot and carefree you looked. He loved to brag to his friends about you. He loved to watch you read or sit beside you and read with you. He liked how engrossed in books you would get it would be like you left this world and flew into the book. Matt encouraged you to write a “fictional”  story aka a story about your lives just changing names and the name of the town. He was always up to help you with your writing in whatever way possible. Matt always believed there was no way you could get any more beautiful but you somehow did the day you drove up on a motorbike half your hair shaved and your nose pierced. 

Pretty Little Liars

Aria Montgomery

Arya didn’t care if you were bisexual she loved and you supported you through anything and everything. She loves to watch you draw. She loves how invested you get into making every detail perfect. She filled her bedroom full of your art. Sometimes she draws with you other times she just watches you. She pushes you to audition for different roles and parts. She constantly told you, “it wouldn’t be right to keep all that talent between the two of us.” She adored your singing and anytime she had nightmares or was stressed about A or life she would beg you to sing her to sleep. She went to all your choir performance for Rosewood High School and every concert and performance after. Begging and encouraging you to pursue music. She loved to watch you dance she even had you try to teach her how too. She loved to read with you whether it be the same book or different books while snuggled together. You both loved to write so you guys would both spend hours reading each other's work and writing together. Arya thought you were incredibly talented. Arya believed you could do whatever you wanted with your body so she didn't care she just told you you look absolutely stunning and kissed you when you showed up with your head half-shaved and nose pierced. She was slightly worried about your riding a motorbike but she got over it because it made you happy. 

or

Ezra Fitz

Ezra would be completely accepting and supportive about your sexuality. He loves to watch you draw. He has your drawings hung up around his classroom, house, or later when he gets it the brew. Ezra often helps you run lines or drive you to auditions. Doing anything you need to make the process easier and less stressful. He loves your singing and goes to every performance. He even hired you as entertainment for the brew. He loved to watch you dance whether it is out on a date or at home. He even sometimes danced with you but he was terrible and it caused both of you to laugh hysterically. You both loved to read so you exchanged book recommendations and snuggled while reading all the time. You were both writers so you both helped each other in every way possible. When you came home with a nose piercing Ezra thought it was a bit strange but alright. When you came home with half your head shaved he didn’t really like it. But after a while, he actually grew to love. The motorbike he didn’t like because he was worried about you safety but he knew he didn’t get an opinion because you loved it.

[sophisticated-angel]

Maverick Girl

Character: Dean Winchester

Warning: None

Word Count: 1,138

Request:  Hi!!! I have a request that I feel a little lame writing but I was wondering if you could do a reader insert (with sam or dean, I love them both equally) but she's not really the normal, super laid back, flannels and whiskey kind of reader that we normally see? Don't get me wrong, I love those too, but I think it would be really interesting to see one of the boys paired up with someone the complete opposite of them. Thank you so much!!!

Story

   “Hey there, everybody! Hope y’all are havin’ an epic Monday. I just hit ten-thousand followers and thought it was time you meet this guy, my boyfriend, goes by Dean, super shy but super hot. Say ‘hey’, Dean!”

   Dean glances over at the camera, grins uncomfortably, and mutters, “Hey.”

   Cheerfully, (y/n) signs off and ends the video, and then she rolls her eyes at Dean. “So enthusiastic.”

   “It’s weird.”

   “You are the only one of my friends who doesn’t get it.”

   “I get that it’s weird.” He turns from the stove and hands her a plate full of bacon, eggs, and hash browns. “At least you eat normal.”

   “Health food is for bitches.”

*    *    *    *    *

   Dean knew she was different the moment he met her. Not different like in a chick flick, different like he never saw himself with someone like her. She isn’t his usual type – her triple-pierced ears and crazy up-do told him that much. Nighttime (y/n) dances on bars, slams vodka shots, tries rap karaoke, cusses up a storm, seeks out thrilling activities, and documents it all on social media. Daytime (y/n) is that but sober. She’s what he would call a maverick, and she’s not at all ‘hard shell with a gooey center” like himself. All of her is tough as nails, and she doesn’t take crap from anybody.

   “I’m thinking about getting another tattoo,” she tells him, “maybe the one you’ve got. How do you think it’d look on my hip?”

   “I think it would look incredibly sexy.” He gives her a peck on the cheek. “We’d match.”

   She smiles. “I wish you’d tell me what it means.”

   “I’ve told you it’s a thing between Sam and I.”

   “What’s the thing? Why’d you get it? You don’t get tattoos that don’t mean anything. I’ve told you all the stories for mine.”

   “I know, but mine’s more . . . personal.” Dean runs his eyes across her tattoos. Her tank top reveals the sleeve of pictures on her left arm and where it ends on her collarbone, a collage of stories, and Dean know them all from the rose on her elbow to the giant angel wings on her back. “I’ll tell you what it means someday.”

   She rolls her eyes. “You should let me pick another one for you.”

   “Uh, no. I am no letting you turn me into the Illustrated Man.”

   “Just one,” she sighs. “Get your helmet. I wanna go for a ride.”

   “Do not take me to a tattoo parlor.”

*    *    *    *    *

   (y/n) rides a motorcycle. It has a name, and she rides it everywhere in full gear. When she bought him his own helmet, Dean knew he’d been accepted. Riding the black Harley, arms wrapped around her waist, gives him a high he’s never experienced and honestly kinda freaks him out. But he loves seeing her in her jacket and biker boots, leather kept pristine and free of patches. It’s as close to ‘dolled up’ as she gets.

   She walks into the roadhouse ahead of Dean, stopping to take a selfie for Instagram before taking her usual seat at the bar. The bartender doesn’t need to take their orders anymore, and he serves up their drinks with hardly a second thought. (y/n) downs hers in a single breath – Dean’s adoration wells up.

   “You know it’s like four in the afternoon, right?”

   She downs another shot. “Problem, Winchester?”

   “Nope. Just askin’.”

   She isn’t a lightweight, but when the booze hits, it hits pretty hard. Dean knows she’s started going downhill when the incessant gabbing starts. At first it makes sense, but a couple more shots and she sounds schizophrenic. By this point, Dean finds it necessary to visit the bathroom and does so believing everything will be alright until his return. (y/n) is gone when he comes back. He hurriedly hands a bill to the bartender who points at the door and heads outside with his girlfriend’s leather jacket and two helmets.

   He finds her outside trying to start a brawl with another female biker. The two men in her group have, smartly, given her and (y/n) a wide berth and don’t seem keen on intervening. Dean nods in their direction, waits for the argument to break off, and finally steps in when shoves are exchanged. His timing is perfect to get a shove from the enemy, which sets off (y/n) even more, and she steps around Dean to retaliate with a punch. Now the two bystanders step in to pull their friend away while Dean struggles to corral (y/n) and get her over to her bike with his arms full. The two women back off spouting insults at each other until the other group goes inside.

   “Gimme my jacket.” She grabs the jacket from Dean, pulls it on huffily, and digs out her keys.

   “You think you should be driving right now?”

   “I can do it.”

   “(y/n)-”

   “I can do it.”

   “Okay then.” Dean hands her her helmet, puts his own on, and climbs on behind her. She starts the engine and rides the bike out onto the street as smoothly as if she were sober. Every time she does this, Dean wishes there was a way or a reason for him to convince her to not drive drunk, but he knows that’ll never happen. Nobodydrives her Harley but her, and she’s never driven poorly even after downing as many shots as she has. Same as always, they make it back to her place safe and sound.

*    *    *    *    *

   “I need coffee,” (y/n) announces a half hour after getting home.

   “You need an intervention.”

   “Make me coffee.”

   “You’re out from last time.”

   “So go down the hall and ask Kyle for some.”

   “Kyle sells pot.”

   “So don’t buy any.” Clutching the front of his jacket, she begs, “Please, Dean. If you care about me at all, go ask pothead Kyle for coffee.”

   Five minutes later, Dean returns plus one packet of instant coffee and minus five dollars because his girlfriend’s hippie pothead neighbor couldn’t be neighborly and let him have it. But he comes back victorious, and that’s what matters. (y/n) has settled on the couch in front of the TV, bare feet resting on the coffee table, pants off, and her leather jacket exchanged for a too-large gray hoodie. While she flips through channels, Dean brews a pot of coffee, pours it into two mugs, and joins her.

   “Hey, isn’t that my hoodie?”

   “Yup.”

   “You have your own.”

   “I like yours more.”

   “Mhm. I’m never getting that back, am I?”

   “Probably not.”

   Sighing, he takes a drink of his coffee and wrinkles his nose at the bitter taste. Then he puts his arm around his trash-talking, vodka-drinking, motorcycle-riding, inked-up girlfriend, and he thinks to himself that he loves her.

@pureawesomeness001 @27bmm @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @super-not-naturall @gabriel-themightysugaraddict @mogaruke @mrswhozeewhatsis @hexparker @kdfrqqg @little-castiel13 @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

[ridleytheknight]

for the 100 questions, i dare u to answer 1-50 :3c

One through fifty? Oooh boy this is gonna be a long post, but I’m happy to answer them! I hope you enjoy this starling~ ^-^ Let’s get started shall we?

1. Kissing in most cases I would consider cheating, but it depends on the context of the kiss. I kiss some people platonic or for cosplay shoots which I have consented to with my partners permission. So it depends!

2. I’ve never had sex so the need to fake an orgasm has never been an issue or a thought I’ve had. So technically no?

3. I would want to mother fucking fly as my super power

4. I will never be rich, but I will be satisfied.

5. I got my punch spiked at my sister wedding and did the chicken dance shit faced drunk at her reception with two of my cousins (Also wasted but consensually) Does that count as a funny drunk story?

6. My last ex really wasn’t good to me, she’d call me names and honestly I probably should have gotten the hell out of that relationship way earlier than I did, but I’m socially awkward and never read the signs right.

7. How I’d want to die? Mmm. Probably get shot in the head. Quick. Easy. Done.

8. My current goal is college

9. Do I like someone? I like my girlfriend~ I love you babe

10. I don’t think anyone’s disappointed me lately. I can’t really remember anything note worthy... I didn’t get called in for a job I wanted, but that’s about it I think.

11. Do I like my body? Yes for the most part, I have some area that I wish were a little better, and I have stretch marks everywhere for absolutely no reason other than growing four inches in two months. But otherwise I’m healthy and content with my body.

12. Can I keep a diet? Yes! I’ve been eating healthy for at least a year or two now and you wouldn’t believe how much better I feel! It doesn’t work for everyone, but I like how its worked for me!

13. If the whole world listened to me, we’d have some problems. Cause I’m an idiot. Let’s not do that.

14. I don’t work currently, i’m trying to get my first job as of now however! Wish me luck starlings?~

15. One food to eat for the rest of my life? Burgers. Burgers man. So many flavors and burgers go with everything.

16. Yes! I actually have a few tattoos planned!

17. Conventions. I would never mind blowing all my money on conventions and/or cosplay

18. I cannot drive, but I do have my permit!

19. When was the last time told me I was beautiful... its been awhile. I don’t remember actually. But I think it was a close friend of mine! Love you E!

20. Last thing I cried for? I sobbed writing a death scene for one of my fics, does that count?

21. (Jesus my hands hurt) Yes I keep a journal religiously, though I write in it at night and most of my entries are sleep deprived rambling.

22. Is life fun? Ask @legendarylangst I’ve told her stories of my friends. If life ain’t fun. It’s at least been one hell of a ride. 

23. Farting in front of people? I mean, not my style, but you do you man.

24. My dream car is a mini cooper. Or my dad’s Harley motorcycle.

25. My grades in school are the most important thing to me nine months of the year. Nothing else matters. I get anxiety when I have a B

26. My crush has pink hair, really pretty eyes, and we’ve been friends for years. Our six month anniversary is coming up soon!

27. The Girl From The Well was the last book that truly and geniunely impressed me. I love that fucking book.

28. My last lie was telling my mom I didn’t eat the last of the coffee cake.

29. The dumbest lie I’ve ever told? When I was six I said I was secretly a cat wearing a human suit. 

30? Crying in front of people for me has never happened, but if it did i would probably be mortified. I’m one of those people that hate ever saying that I’m sad or having a hard time.

31. I’m proud of playing the mariokart theme song while my friends raced on go karts in mario cosplay. That’s my crown achievement 

32. What’s a cocktail?

33. I’m good a writing! (Hopefully)

34. I love my nephew, but any other small children always either make me wanna scream or punt kick them.

35. I’m feeling pretty good, have a bit of a headache. But otherwise I’m chill!

36. I would name my daughter Stella and my son Daniel or Cillian

37. I need either people or computer to be happy.

38. Yes. I want to punch a man in the face right now. A man that has hurt my friend. Bastard lead her on while he had a girlfriend. I have a ship. My fist in his face. I’ll let you know when it’s canon.

39. The last gift I got? My birthday was in July and I got a movie theater gift card seven days after it! Win!

40. I gave my girlfriend a black gem necklace from the last con I was at as the last gift I’ve given lately

41. I went to a Skillet Concert last month! It was so good!

42. I like to shop at Barnes and Nobles or Hot Topic

43. I am inspired by music mostly or other writers!

44. The first time I (accidently) got drunk was eight

45. I’ve never gotten high

46. I’ve never had sex.

47. My first kiss was when I was six under the slide at the playground

48. Something I want to do til the end of this year? Breathe.

49. I have a lot of shit I wish I hadn’t done. But that’s life!

50. You want a selfie? Uhhhnnn, sure! I’ll post it right after this ask I guess!

Thank you for the wonderful ask! All my starlings feel free to drop asks or messages! I love to hear from you!

[jokers-sweethearts]

Jokers Daughter Imagine: The Return

Request: (anon) First I want to say that I love you and that you're work is amazing. You're so creative and reading your posts always make me smile. Unless they're sad ;-; Anyway, could you maybe write something where at the age of 12, the jokers daughter goes missing thanks to one of his business partners kidnapping her and when she's 17, she suddenly appears at the doorstep, drenched from the rain and covered in cuts and bruises.

/////

Monster T sat in the VIP booth across from Joker fidgeting and sweating, his heart was beating so fast he was sure Joker could see it pulsating through his skin and jacket. He raised his hands in defense and submission all at once.

“Mr. J, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I came here with some offers, welcome you back to the world, back to business.” he said trying to keep his voice steady.

“Oooooh are you sweet talkin me now?” Joker hissed at him then mocking him with the smile stamped on his hand.

The Joker was willing to forgive crosses against himself if it meant he could get a good deal, but his daughter was different. When Monster T came in and started eyeing you up he was a dead man walking.

“I didn’t know she was your daughter.” he continued. Not appreciating being jerked around. He tried to control his anger. “I didn’t know she was so young.”

“One…. two…. three….” Joker started counting his fingers confusing Monster T. “eight…. nine…. ten….” Joker stopped and looked up at him. “Looks like I’ve run out of fingers.” Joker stood up and approached him like an animal stalking his prey. In one swift motion he grabbed T’s hand and snapped two fingers until the nails reached the back of his hand. He went swirling to the floor in pain. “Eleven...twelve. There we have it! My daughter is twelve. But I’m sure you didn’t know that huh?”

Joker didn’t even give the man time to answer before he pulled out his gun and fired a bullet into his skull, hitting his eye tattoo exactly on mark. Joker motioned with his hand for Frost to come over and take the body away. In just a few seconds he went from a violent hunched over creature to brushing his hair back and sauntering to his seat eloquently. “Dump him somewhere his buddies will see him, maybe that will teach the whole lot of them finally.” Joker huffed out “And send the princess over.”

“Yes boss.” Frost picked up the man’s legs by the ankles and dragged him out of the VIP booth. He called over to some goons that were free and pointed at the body. “By the docks.” He said before heading to the main floor and making his way through the crowd.

You were sitting behind the bar with your body guard next to you, the bartender refilling your virgin Shirley Temple and dropping a cherry in it. You sat in awe watching your mother dance in her gold dress and jewelry. You wanted to be like her someday. You shook out of your day dream when you saw your Uncle Johnny coming and jumped over the bar to run to him. You wrapped your hands around his waist to hug him and he chuckled as her returned the favor.

“Your dad wants to see you hun.” he said with a smile. You shook your head and grabbed his hand and he led you through the crowd of people. When you got to the VIP booth you saw a goon cleaning up the floor.

Daddy must have just finished work, you thought to yourself. When Joker saw his daughter his icy blue eyes lit up and turned warm. He extended an arm out for you to run into and be beside him. He wrapped his hand around your shoulder and you felt the cool touch of his rings that gave you goosebumps.

“Princess you’re going to be going home early tonight.” he said not making eye contact, knowing you would be upset.

“But daddy why? I want to watch mommy dance more. I always ride home with you guys in the lambo.” you said trying to guilt trip him.

“I know baby but tonight you have to leave. Someone wasn’t nice to you and I don’t want it happening again.” he said sternly signaling for you to stop protesting.

“Looks as though you took care of it.” you teased him and look down at you with a smirk.

Feeling bad that he was making you leave and prideful that you wanted to stay with him he cut you some slack. “Howabout one of the guys takes you home in the lambo? So you don’t go home completely heartbroken huh?” he grinned.

You crossed your arms and tapped your foot pretending to contemplate and keep you in suspense. He mimicked your actions to make you break down and laugh.   “Okay okay okay I guess that’s fine daddy.” He took your face in his hands and planted a kiss in the center of your forehead. A perfect parallel for what he had done just a few moments ago. He snapped his fingers and Frost came back over.

“Take her home please Frost and take the lambo.” Joker said dangling the keys. When Frost reached for them Joker pulled them back. “And not a scratch on it.” he said before handing them over. Frost shook his head and extended his hand for you to take. The two of you wandered outside and got in the car home bound.

As the goons were dumping Monster T’s body off by the docks they were growing more nervous by the minute. It was still early in the night, people around, they could be easily seen. The dropped the body and quickly made their way back to the car. They sighed in relief for a moment before beginning to drive back to the main road. They felt the tension leave their bodies and as they reached to turn on the radio a parade of bullets fired through the windshield. Their bodies rattled back and forth with blood spewing. Loud screams and tires screeching raced past their car and to the docks. The car came to a halt and four men jumped out and ran over to Monster T’s body.

“I knew it! I knew it! I fucking knew it!” one screamed. “We should never have let him go there alone. That fuckin clown is crazy!.” the other three men stood silent, mourning the loss of their crew member. They knew they were wrong to let him go and were on their way to try and take their mistake back, but it was too late. “If that clown wants a war, then that’s what he’ll get.” the man said before heading back to the car and the other men followed him. “This time we fight fire with fire.” he said before they sped off.

You and Frost drove steady through the city back to the house, you gazed out the window taking in the moment. You were so content you laid your head back and closed your eyes listening to the sounds of gotham. You suddenly felt Frost’s hand gripping your arm, your eyes shot open and he had a terrified look on his face.

“Hold on.” he said as he slammed his foot on the gas, you looked in the rear view mirror and saw another car racing towards you. The passenger side window opened and a machine gun emerged. It started firing wildly and Frost grabbed your head and pushed it down so you wouldn’t be hit.

“There’s the lamborghini! Joker must be inside, keep shooting!” the men screamed in the car as they raced after what they thought would be simple revenge.

Frost was losing control of the lambo as bullets destroyed the tries. He tried desperately to keep the wheel straight to protect you but it was no use. The engine took too many hits and blew out right in front of your eyes. You wanted to stay strong but you wanted to cry for your father at the same time. The lambo swung off the road and skidded into a ditch. Frost threw himself in front on your and went out the windshield that had been shot out and banged his head on the front of the car. His weight stopped you from getting serious damage but the impact took your breath right out of your lungs and you passed out. The men drove over and opened up the car doors, to their surprise the Joker was nowhere to be found. Frost lifted his body up slowly and went to grab one of the men but they hit him in the forehead with the barrel of their gun.

“You know who this is gentlemen?” the leader said as a statement more than a question “This is the lil bitch the clown and that whack job girlfriend had.” the men stared at you passed out in awe. They had heard stories but hardly anyone saw you in the flesh. “This is the revenge, the power we need.” he said and poked your cheek with his gun. “She’s out cold. Take her to the car.”

‘What about the guy?” one of the men asked.

“Leave him. Someone needs to let the joker know who is in control now.”

The Joker sat and watched the rain in his once lavish mansion now rundown and dark, twirling a piece of his daughter's hair between his fingers. The days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. Today marked the 5th anniversary of the night he failed. Failed you, his reputation, his empire, everything he had built as the Joker. He never suspected that scum like Monster T would haunt him. His crew had all but taken Joker captive as well. He was under their control as long as they had you. He tried to disobey in the beginning but he soon learned that they were serious and they had to you. Each time he didn’t obey their commands they sent a piece of you. The first time it was a strand of hair, then the second time it was a whole lock of her long hair. It drove Joker more insane than he already was thinking they touched you and disrupted your perfection. He promised as long as they kept you alive and safe he would do what they asked. It involved giving up his club, the gun trades, the drug trades, everything. He wasn’t the king of gotham anymore, he was a puppet for the men. The Joker’s pride was taken away but it wasn’t as hard as he thought, he just wanted you safe. Sitting in arkham all those years ago before he ever met Harley he never imagined in this moment he would be at some type of peace. But when it all came down to it he was just happy he never got a body part in the mail.

The thing that was killing him was not knowing, seeing touching. Wondering what you were thinking. Killing himself thinking that he wasn’t there to wipe your tears away and to make you laugh. To wake up in the middle of the night with you next to him. He tore the entire city apart searching for you, but each time he got close they took you further away somewhere new. The one thing that kept him going was the thought of making them pay for it all. Then the doorbell rang he barely even noticed until he heard chains rattling closer to him. Frost approached him and Joker turned his head slightly to see the once mighty suited right hand man in dirty rag clothes and chained up like a prisoner.

“The door slave.” Joker said to him. The man he once considered a brother became the source of all his rage and the blame. Frost went to the door faced unrecognizable from all the beatings. When he opened it his jaw dropped and he let out an inhuman noise.

Joker immediately grabbed his gun thinking it was one of the crew members who had you coming back for more. When he pushed Frost out of the way and saw what stood in the doorway he dropped the gun to his side. There you stood. Your knees were bruised and your face had little cuts all over it. Your hands were completely covered in blood and you had a shard of glass gripped. Joker was frozen in time and didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t even sure if you were real.

For a moment he was so still he looked like a wax figure to you. You reciprocated the action and dropped the shard of glass to your side as he did the gun. You were the first to make the move and jumped at him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Daddy…” left your lips softly and the sound of your voice, more mature now but still the voice he’d know anywhere snapped him back into reality and he picked you up and held onto you tightly. He felt like he was going to faint or his knees were going to give out so he carried you and both rested on the couch.

You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked around. The house you loved as a child was broken down even more than your father was. You knew there wasn’t much time to waste as much as you wanted to stay in his arms, but you two had to move. You weren’t a little girl anymore and realized you had to be the strong one.

“How did you… how are you here?” he asked.

“I escaped. I broke a mirror and I just… I escaped. We have to get ready they might know I came here.” you said getting off the couch but your father grabbed your arm and pulled you back. He cupped your face in his hands and stared at you for a moment before kissing your forehead. The last thing he did five years ago with you. “Daddy please I..” you tried to resist, now wasn’t the time for bonding but the euphoric feelings of being back in his arms was overtaking you. You broke down in tears and wrapped your arms around his shoulders so tight you were scared you’d cut off his circulation.

Joker felt something start to rise from his stomach and into his chest. The feelings inside of him started changing like a light switch and his mind started to race a mile a minute. He got a slight headache after all the years of disassociating to all of a sudden be brought back. As you held onto him the feeling of being a protector reignited inside of him. Like he had a purpose again.

You unwrapped yourself from him and looked in his blue eyes. “I won’t lose you again.” he said, the first time you had heard his deep voice. You weren’t sure where to start, with what happened to you or tell him you knew what they had done to him. Before you could say anything he started up again. “What did they do to you?” he asked.

“Nothing too bad.” you said immediately not wanting to worry him. “Just some beatings but most of the time it was okay. I know what you did for me. I don’t know how to..”

“Shhh shhh princess.” he didn’t want to hear anymore, just some beatings, he scoffed when he thought about those words leaving your.

“I can take it daddy, I was fine.”

“I know you can. You’re mine. But because you're mine you shouldn’t have had to.” Joker looked over at Frost standing there not knowing what to do. “I made him pay for failing you.”

You finally understood who opened the door and were horrified. You got up and ran over to Frost and used your father's gun on the floor to shoot the chains off. Joker looked ashamed of himself after he saw you do this.

“We have to get them back. Frost isn’t to blame. We have to make them pay. We have to bring you back.” you said confidently and your father was taken aback by the woman you had become while you were away from him. He looked at you and noticed just how bad of shape he and the house were in. This was no condition for a princess to lay her eyes on he thought. Joker took a moment to embrace the strength flowing back into his veins.

Joker stood up and extended his hand for you to grab. You walked back over and took it. This time you reached up and cupped his face in your hands. He looked at you and saw that his sweet and innocent girl had been replaced by a woman filled with fire and a lust for blood. He liked what he saw. You turned out more like him than he had imagined.

“You have to become the king again.” you continued. As easy as snapping fingers Joker smiled that malicious and terrifying smile only he could. You matched it as best you could.

“Frost!” he called out for the first time in five years. “Get me a suit. Get me my guns. Get her something befitting of a princess.”

You looked over at your Uncle Johnny and nodded as if to let him know that things were finally back the way they were.

“And bring the car around. We’re going for a drive.”

[themind-on-paper]

Charming… part 3

you can read part 1 here & part 2 here. 

The rest of the day went by fast and after diner Anna was tired and went to bed early.

You and Mike were sitting outside drinking a beer.

“You know Anna is going to find out if you keep reacting like you did today about a motorcycle.” You say to him.

“I just want to forget that part of my life.”

“Well she doesn’t know why you stopped riding. Till then she is going to keep asking. I’m surprised she didn’t ask anything about the blacked out tattoo you got.” You look at him and you can see he’s worried.

“I just... I just can’t tell her what happened. I can’t tell her I killed a man for that club. That you almost got killed because of them and that were making this trip because we have to run from them. I can’t tell her that.”

“I know Mike but you also can't tell her anything. You have to give her a explanation. You know Anna she’s going to keep digging till she knows something.”

“I know.”

Both of you kept drinking your beer. Not saying anything to each other. Just looking to the stars on the sky above you.

It was a warm day. You were waiting outside for Gemma. You had some blue jeans on and a black tank top. With a letter brown jacket over it. Your bag was hanging from your shoulder. You were looking at your phone looking for some message saying Gemma was going to be late. Nothing you look to both sides of the street looking for something coming your way. A cars is coming your way. He doesn’t slow down and passes you. You started walking towards the TM. Your phone ringed and you saw you got a message from Gemma.

Can’t make it. I sended Tig to pick you up.

In the distance you heard the sound of a motor. You look towards it and you saw a Harley riding towards you. The person driving it looked alot like Tig. The bike comes closer. The sound getting louder and louder. The bike stopped in front of you and you were now 100% sure it was Tig. He looked towards you. You saw he was wearing a cut with the tags SON AT ARMS on his right side.

“Hello again.” He says with a smile. “Get on it we will be late.” He says handing you a helmet. You took it from him and putted it on your head. You were ready to get on the bike when you saw the back of his cut. SONS OF ANARCHY with the reaper under it and CALIFORNIA. You recognise the name right away. Mike’s old motor club was always in problems with them  so the name was not hard to recognise. You took a few deep breaths and got on the back of his bike. You needed this job. You needed the money to pay for the repairs so the 3 of you could leave as soon as possible. You were just going to stay away from the people of the club. You will try to be as invisible as possible.

“You can steady yourself with your hands on my waist.” Tig says  “I don’t bite if you don’t want too.”

You gave him a small chuckle. You rested your hands on his waist and he rides away.

After a few minutes Tig pulled up to the TM parking lot. He parked his bike next to the other bikes already parked. You got off his bike and got the helmet off. You looked towards the office and you saw Gemma leaving and started walking towards you.

Tig stepped from his bike. He looks towards you with a smile on his face. You handled the helmet to him. He hanged the helmets on the motor steering wheel.

“Tig they’re waiting for you in church.” Gemma says. Tig nods towards her and walks away towards another building. You looked at Gemma and you saw that she was studying your facial expression. “Come on. I will show you around the garage and explain what I need you to help me with.” You nod at her and both of you started walking towards the office.

After a hour you were helping Gemma making the invoice.

“I will be right back.” She says to you walking out of the office. Threw the window you saw several man walk out of the building on the other side of the parking lot. Two of the men you recognised. Tig and Juice. Gemma walked towards on of the men. They were talking about something and then both started walking towards the office. You looked back towards the papers in front of you.

“Y/N.” You looked up towards Gemma. “This is my husband Clay.” She says.

He was looking at you from head to to. “Nice to meet you.” You say to him with a smile. His cut said PRESIDENT.

He smiled at you. “Nice to meet you too.” He looked back to Gemma.  “I have to go I see you later.” and gives her a kiss. She nods her head towards him and she watches him leave the office. You saw Clay walk towards a another men. He had long blond hair.

“That’s my son.” Gemma says. You look immediately towards her. “Jax.. Tig and Juice you already know. The scott man with the scar on his face his Chibs.” You looked outside again. “The man next to Chibs is Bobby and there is Oppie.” She says. You saw another man come out of the building. You look towards her. She is looking at you liking she is waiting for an answer. You just give her a little smile. “Let’s get to work again.” She says after she wasn’t getting the reaction she wanted from you. You hear the motors start and leave the parking lot.

For the rest of the day she was keeping a close eye on you. She was pretty much making you nervous. You phone ranged and you saw on the caller ID Mike. You didn’t answer and just got to work again.

“Boyfriend?” Gemma says

“No. Happily single. Friend I’m traveling with.” You said to her.

“The one from yesterday?” She says quickly. You looked at her confused. “Tig saw you yesterday and he told me he saw you walking with a guy and a girl.”

You smiled and said. “Yes. They’re my traveling partners.”

She smiles at you and the sound of motors start to get louder and louder. Gemma stands from her seat and walks outside. 

“Hey Baby..” Gemma says towards Clay. “How did it go?”

“Could be worse.” Jax responds. “You have a new employee?” He says looking towards you.

“Yeah nice girl. Quite too.” Gemma says “And Tig.” Tig looks towards Gemma immediately. “She’s still single but I don’t think she’s into bikers!”

“Is that a challenge?” Tig says with a smile and starts walking towards the office.

The rest of the man just laugh and watch him walk towards you.

“I think she’s more into someone like Juice.” Gemma says. Juice looks towards Gemma and smiles.

“Hey..” You look up towards the voice and you saw Tig standing at the door frame looking towards you. “Is everything going okay?”

“Yeah it’s fine. It’s my first day so a lot of searching for the right papers.” You say with a smile.

“If you need help you can ask me.” Tig says his voice softer than before.

“Come on Tiggy, we have to work.” a man with scottish accent says behind him.

He pulls Tig of his way and walk into the office. “Hi lad’s, I’m Chibs.”

“Y/N.” You said to him.

“Nice to meet you.” He looks towards Tig again. “Tig come on. You have to help me with her car.”

Tig nobs towards him and walks behind him to garage.

The rest of the day passed pretty fast. All of the man come into the office to present them self. You laughed with Bobby and Jax. Juice was a little nervous but very sweet. Ans at the end the day you knew every one of them and what they did at the garage. They all gave you a little bit of their attention to you and when you had questions Tig and Chibs helped you with everything.

The day was over and when you were getting everything together to leave. Juice walked into the office.

“I will take you home.”

“Thank you Juice.” You said reaching for you phone. “But I can walk and I need a little bit of fresh hair.”

“I want to.” He says with a smile. You smiled back at him and both of you walked towards his bike. You looked to the entrance of the parking lot and you saw Mike walk towards it.

“I think I will walk.” You said to him. “My friend just came to pick me up.” He looks the same way you do and sees Mike in front of the entrance waiting for you.

“Well I will see you tomorrow than.” Juice says.

“See you tomorrow.” You said to him walking towards Mike.

“Weren’t you spoke to bring her home.” Tig says walking towards Juice.

Juice looked towards him. “Yeah but her friend just showed up.”

Tig looks towards you and Mike.

“Come on Tig.” Juice says. He nod his head and walks with Juice into the clubhouse.

A.N.: Heey. So what do you thing of the story till now? It’s the first time I write something for SAMCRO fanfiction. So pleace tell me what you think about it! 

[theliterateape]

Las Vegas Stinks... of Possibility

By Don Hall

I pull up the Zillow listing for the house on Alpine Road In West Las Vegas.

“This is where we will live in a few months. Mark my words. This is the one,” I declare with the certainty of someone who has never been disappointed by expectations thwarted.

“Do you really believe that or do you just believe if you will it to be so, it will be?”

“It has a pool in the back yard, fucker. We’re buying this one. Trust me.”

When we pulled up to the house on Alpine Road, I tried to maintain my unshakeable optimism about this specific property. But after about five minutes in the building it became abundantly clear how miserably wrong I had been. This place was a fucking dump in direct contrast to the deceptive photos on Zillow. Alpine was a 75-year old, 350-pound woman with facial scarring from botched Botox treatments who presented herself as 30 years and 250 pounds ago.

The place on the corner of Treasure Avenue was unassuming but had a huge yard, a giant African oil palm tree and a garage that had been turned into a one-bedroom apartment on top of the three bedrooms in the main house. It was far better than advertised and we loved it.

✶

One of the most asked questions I’ve been fielding lately in this new pursuit for a home in the Mojave is “Why Vegas?” Proffered in the same way one would ask why I was wearing that gold sequined tube top to church or why I got that Joey Laurence neck tattoo.

The simple answer is opportunity. Lately, I’ve found I have plenty of opportunities to create and make a living and to make art in Chicago, but they are the same opportunities I’ve been recycling for twenty-odd years. Time for something new, some fresh challenges, different problems to solve. Sure, I could accomplish all that by becoming a nursing student, a carnie or opening an adult bookstore in Pilsen, but moving to Vegas seems a lot more practical.

So two weeks prior to Christmas, Dana, our friend Matthew, Joe Janes and I found ourselves driving a rented KIA SUV along the Las Vegas Beltway with Bob, a 72-year old Harley-riding real estate badass from Henderson, chasing down leads for the perfect Vegas home.

To clarify, we are buying the place with Matthew who presented us with an idea that was just too good to pass up. He had just sold his home in Chicago and wanted out of town. Dana and I have been talking about a move for well over a year now. We sat down, crunched numbers and realized that buying a larger place together was more advantageous than going it alone, so we joined forces and finances to find the perfect nest in the heart of The Meadows. 

Leading up to the trip, we did a ton of research on homes we could afford and were big enough. By the time we hit the ground, Bob had our list and we rocked through all of Vegas. I did most of the driving mostly so that I could get used to the landscape and traffic patterns. We saw ten houses over three days — some were immediate Nos once we saw them but most had huge potential. We were so organized that at one point Bob commented that he loved showing us places because he didn’t have to do most of the work. This was key because we had four days and I had a few other things to accomplish while we there.

About six weeks before we went out, I got a phone call from the Make-a-Wish Foundation of Nevada. They had seen that I was looking for work in Vegas, checked my online resume, and wanted to know if I was interested in interviewing for an events position. I told them I’d be in town on the 18th, so we scheduled an appointment. Soon after, MGM Grand Hotel and Casino asked the same. I booked an interview with them shortly after. Then Caesar’s Palace called. So on Tuesday, I threw on my jacket and tie and spent the morning interviewing for jobs that pay more than I’ve ever made to-date in a fiscal year.

The first was pretty standard and it turns out I’m in the running. Lots of travel but I’m cool with that. The second was a walk-and-talk throughout the casino with eight people interviewing me. Apparently, with regard to the immensity of responsibility, the modern way is to actually have employees whose job it is to vet one’s social media presence. And they still called me in. The third was super laid back. The initial question was “Why do you want this job?” I replied “I don’t. You called me, remember? Tell me what the job is and I’ll tell you if I want it!” And we both laughed.

It was invigorating. It was exhausting. Given I hadn’t even applied to these places, it was a portent of good things to come. Honestly, I don’t anticipate getting any of these gigs. Some things really are too good to be true. I did, however, find value and a certain thrill at being invited.

If there is sort of a Big Takeaway from our trip (you know, beyond looking at houses and the anticipation of a brand new life) it was the number of people I met who made some sort of comment to the affect that I was exactly what Las Vegas needed. From the Big Events folks to the underground arts scene, I was pretty much bombarded with good will and affirmation. Vegas seems to be welcoming me and that feels damn good. It’s exactly what I’d hoped for without even knowing what to hope for.

On top of all that, I finally got to meet one of my writing heroes: Eric Wilson of Literate Ape’s American Shithole column. Eric is one of those fuckers who writes so well and with such laser wit that he makes me want to be a better writer. Monday night I sat in a pub with three of those types who force me to really try when putting my thoughts on a page: Dana, Joe and Eric Motherfucking Wilson. 

I also got to swing in to Gordon Ramsay Burger and eat at one of my man-crush’s restaurants. I’ve grown to love Ramsay, his television persona and his offline good works. It was the best hamburger and fries I’ve ever had. Hell, the woman next to me had a Gordon Ramsay veggie burger and practically moaned as she ate it. Even a vegetarian like the magnificent Joe Janes could enjoy Ramsay’s standards of cuisine.

Speaking of Joe, who could ask for a better friend than he? Dude cashed in his vacation trip to come to Vegas, hang out and go on house-seeking excursions. Sure, he saw some shows and ate at Guy Fieri’s (not as cool as Ramsay’s but whatever) but his reason for coming was to help me out. There’s something special about Joe coming out — he was my best man a little over four years ago right there on the strip. Before we left, he sent some links of attractions we could see but, man, I was all business on this trip.

Himmel and I figured out that there was no real Live Lit scene in Vegas and that it was my challenge to bring it. He hooked me up with Ryan Pardey at The Bunkhouse Saloon so we arranged a meeting there for Tuesday night. Right off the Old Vegas Strip on Fremont Street, The Bunkhouse resembles The Empty Bottle in Chicago and there’s a vinyl record shop, 11th Street Records, right around the corner. Within about five minutes of meeting, we got the first Vegas BUGHOUSE! booked for Tuesday, April 9, 2019 and our newest Ape, Erik Lewin, has agreed to be a part of it.

I did a tiny bit of gambling (I’m lousy at it and after declaring so earlier in the week, Wilson commented “That’s why you work so hard.” Which is probably true.) We ate at a buffet at Green Valley Ranch Resort Spa & Casino, and rounding out my Vegas experience, I was propositioned at 6 a.m. by a couple of prostitutes.

Standing outside the Cosmopolitan, a pipe and a Vente Dark Roast from Starbucks, two ladies dressed for maximum “Check Me Out” approached.

“Just say Yes!” she said. “…yes?” “Wanna hang out?” “Nah. I’m just waking up.” “I’ll take your clothes off… it won’t cost much…” “Hmmm…in another life, maybe. But…” and I pulled up the picture of Dana and I at the Chapel of the Bells on my phone. “I’m really married and not into anyone but her.”

And for five minutes, I shared the romantic story of Dana and I as these two ladies of the night — er… early morning — coo’d over the story.

We made an offer on the place on Treasure Avenue and the seller accepted. As in all things, it isn’t a done deal until the ink dries but things are looking right.

✶

That’s the thing about this move. It could be Alpine — deceptive promise with hopes dashed to the ground. It could be Treasure — all possibility and anticipation. We’ll certainly see in the new year which one it is but for right now, Las Vegas stinks… of opportunity, potential, possibilities undreamt of, and a genuine sense of something different for which to look forward.

I haven’t been this excited since I packed up my Blue Bronco II in 1989 and drove north, randomly seeking a home and ultimately landing in Chicago. That was easily one of the best cliff leaps I’ve made in my life, so this bodes well.

[avialaeandapidae]

By Christopher Solomon

July 5, 2018

You might not guess from looking at him that Rob Wielgus was until recently a tenured professor of wildlife ecology. Wielgus likes to spend time in the backwoods of the American West that lie off the edge of most tourist maps, and he dresses the part: motorcycle leathers, tattoos on both forearms, the stringy hairs of a goatee dangling like lichen from his lower lip. Atop his bald head he often wears a battered leather bush hat of the type seen at Waylon Jennings concerts. A Camel smolders in his face like a fuse. The first time I called him, he told me that he couldn’t chat because he was riding his Harley home from the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally in South Dakota.

When we met last fall, Wielgus, who is 61, wasn’t wearing his bush hat, however, but a straw cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. He was, he explained, in disguise. We had rendezvoused in Republic, a faded former mining town of about a thousand people in the northeastern part of Washington State. Stores wore boomtown facades to tempt passing drivers and their dollars to linger. But this was mid-October: Pickup trucks throttled past on the main drag, hauling hay and firewood for a winter that would slump down from Canada any day.

Wielgus had spent years in the surrounding woods doing research, and he loved the area. Now he considered it hostile territory. Before he pushed through the swinging doors of a bar, he paused and lifted an untucked shirt to show me the black handle of a .357 handgun poking from the front pocket of his jeans. “Too many death threats,” he said. “I never started carrying this till I started studying wolves.”

Not long ago, Wielgus was a respected researcher at Washington State University in Pullman, in the far eastern part of the state, with his own prosperous lab and several graduate students under his guidance. His specialty was North American apex predators — mountain lions and bears. Over a 35-year career, Wielgus has published surprising research about how these animals behave, especially once their paths cross with civilization. Unlike some wildlife research, which can be esoteric, Wielgus’s work by its nature has concrete, real-world implications. And Wielgus, by his nature, hasn’t been shy about emerging from academia to tell wildlife managers, ranchers and politicians exactly how they have screwed up and why they should pay more attention to him and his findings. He is accustomed to being the least-popular man in the room.

Wielgus had no idea how unpopular he could get, though, until he began to study wolves. By the time I met him, his academic reputation lay in shreds. His lab was essentially shuttered. He was $50,000 in debt, he said, and he had had to pull his daughters out of college. His career, he told me, was over.

Even today, no animal in North America is at once more loved and reviled than Canis lupus, the gray wolf. Once as many as two million of them loped the forests and arroyos of the continent, Nate Blakeslee writes in “American Wolf.” Then European settlers arrived and got to work. There were bounties for wolves as early as Jamestown. “Wolfers” later roamed the Great Plains, shooting buffalo, lacing the carcasses with strychnine and returning the next day to collect the poisoned wolves’ pelts for their $2 bounties, Barry Lopez recounts in “Of Wolves and Men.” A federal program would kill tens of thousands more, including in our national parks. By World War II, wolves had been eliminated from most places in the country.

In 1973, Congress passed the landmark Endangered Species Act. Within a few years, the gray wolf was listed as “endangered” throughout the West. Gray wolves were successfully reintroduced in the mid-1990s when the federal government relocated 31 wolves from Canada to Wyoming’s Yellowstone country and 35 to central Idaho. Since then, wolves have wandered across state lines to take up residence again in their former homes in Oregon and California.

Wherever the predators have arrived, blistering conflicts have followed. Shouting matches at public meetings. Threats to government officials. Dead livestock. Dead wolves. So in 2008, when biologists found that the first wolves had returned to Washington since the animals were extirpated there in the 1930s, officials pledged to learn from other states’ mistakes. They would finally move past the “smoke a pack a day” threats of the virulently anti-wolf crowd, not to mention the incessant carping of environmentalists. In time, the state would go so far as to spend $1.2 million on a consulting group that applied to wildlife issues the peace-building strategies learned in places like Rwanda and East Timor.

But no conservation issue in the West today is more polarizing than wolves, where the trenches on each side remain well worn and deep. On one side are people who want to see the return of an important predator — physically and symbolically — to the landscape (or, more precisely, simply to know again that it is there, because spotting a wolf outside of Yellowstone can be famously difficult). On the other side are people who also care about the land but for whom the Great Outdoors is often where they make their living. Some run cattle or have flocks of sheep or horses. When wolves and people share the same landscape, sometimes wolves kill what people value, like cows and dogs. These killings take money from their pockets, and it spreads fear.

In a larger sense, the argument over wolves is a gulf of values: In bringing back wolves, one side wants to atone for the sins of the past and knit back together a wounded landscape; the other sees in wolves’ proliferation a refutation of the rural way of life of the American West. A wolf, in this debate, is always much bigger than a wolf. “Wolves are Democrats,” I was told more than once; they symbolize Big Government and regulation and all the ways that distant bureaucrats and coastal elites want to destroy the cherished rural ranching culture of the West.

The strange story of Rob Wielgus is a tale of what happened to one loud scientist who ran afoul of powerful forces. More broadly, it’s a parable of the American West in the 21st century and of how little we still can agree what it should look like. And it’s a reminder that, if you find yourself in a powder keg, the last thing you want to be is a struck match.

Since their howls were first confirmed in the North Cascades a decade ago, wolves have prospered in Washington State. Today 22 documented packs are sprinkled around the state, totaling at least 122 animals — a conservative estimate, as the state acknowledges. In 2015 a wolf was hit by a car within a commuter’s drive of Seattle.

A state recovery plan that covers the eastern third of Washington allows no killing of wolves except in special circumstances until their numbers sufficiently rebound. (Federal regulations protect them in the western two-thirds of the state.) As the wolf population has grown, poaching has occurred. Six years ago two ranchers and one of their wives were sentenced for violating the Endangered Species Act after she tried to FedEx a box that was dripping blood. It contained a fresh wolf pelt being sent for tanning.

In Washington State, politics and cultures split as sharply as the climate does along the crest of the Cascade Mountains — generally wet, urban and liberal on one side, and dry, wide open and deeply red on the other. Government-mandated protection of wolves doesn’t go over well in a region where independence is prized and where rural residents tend to look sidelong at any mention of environmentalism or endangered species, seeing the words as code for an attack on jobs like ranching that aren’t easy, or necessarily lucrative, to begin with. And wolves sometimes do cause losses to ranchers: A 2015 look at wolf predation in three Rocky Mountain states said that wolves killed 967 animals — cattle, sheep, goats, llamas and horses — between 1989 and 2008.

Washington State has a program to reimburse ranchers for wolf depredations. But not every death is compensated. And ranchers are proud: Some won’t take the dollars. “I don’t raise my animals to get ate,” as one horse rancher put it. They would rather address the problem at its source. In Washington’s wolf country, it’s not unheard-of for a county’s leaders to authorize the sheriff to usurp state authority and kill wolves if needed or for a billboard to appear in Spokane bearing demonic yellow eyes above a laughing little girl and the question, “Who’s next on their menu?”

Agriculture and ranching are powerful in Washington State — agriculture is a $10.6 billion industry, and the state leads the nation in producing crops like apples, hops and blueberries. This means serious sway in the Legislature, which controls a chunk of funding for Washington State University, a land-grant university with a heavy focus on agriculture research. All of this can make for a complicated pas de deux between politicians and the university. This was the fraught world that Wielgus, the maverick academic, was thrust into.

Wielgus grew up hunting rabbits and poking around the woods that fringed the suburbs of Winnipeg, Manitoba. (He holds Canadian and American passports, and his voice still tilts upward pleasantly at the end of some sentences.) After college he took provincial jobs with wildlife agencies, studying moose, elk and caribou.

He first became interested in carnivores when he embarked on graduate school and received an offer to join a grizzly-bear research effort in Alberta. “The danger of grizzlies really turned my crank because I was an adrenaline junkie,” he told me that night at the bar in Republic (where the evening’s chief threat turned out to be a bartender who didn’t have Wielgus’s preferred whiskey). He got his doctorate studying grizzlies in western Canada and northern Idaho, then went to the Pyrenees for a year to help with bear recovery. In 1997, Wielgus took a job as an assistant professor at W.S.U. He started the Large Carnivore Conservation Laboratory and began to study mountain lions. Through their work, he and colleagues discovered something fascinating: Killing adult males actually increased cougar sightings and also the number of cattle and sheep killed by other mountain lions, as younger cougars showed up in the old cat’s territory. The studies later played a part in a decision not to expand the hunting of mountain lions in the state.

In 2012, the state asked Wielgus to calculate a population model for Washington’s wolf-recovery plan. Wielgus had never studied wolves before, but he had a successful ongoing collaboration with the state’s wildlife agency, and the job aligned well with the lab’s overall focus. The agency was pleased with the modeling work and came back with a much larger offer: to oversee a multimillion-dollar research project as part of wolves’ return to Washington. Funded by the state Legislature for at least four years, the work would try to get to the bottom of the age-old conflict between wolves and livestock.

For a carnivore scientist, it was a tremendous opportunity. Wielgus designed a study that would radio-collar hundreds of livestock and dozens of wolves. “It was the largest study of wolf-livestock interactions ever conducted on the planet,” he told me. In other places where wolves and livestock share the landscape, only about 20 percent of wolf packs ever attack sheep and cattle. But there wasn’t a lot of good information about what accounts for those attacks and therefore how they might be prevented. Tracking both predator and prey would help provide answers. Fewer dead cows would mean fewer wolves hunted down. And that could mean peace among the humans.

Once Wielgus got his first round of money to start the study, the associate dean for research at W.S.U.’s College of Agricultural, Human and Natural Resource Sciences asked Wielgus to come see him. At the meeting, according to Wielgus, the dean reminded him that his work would be controversial and unpopular with some politicians. Then, Wielgus said, the dean drew a box in the air between the men, and added, “If you step outside of this box, then basically your job is over.”

It felt like a threat, Wielgus said: “I didn’t even start the research yet.” (The university says the dean denies making the statement.)

Both men knew who was likeliest to be unhappy: State Representative Joel Kretz, the Republican deputy minority leader of the State House. At least 15 of the state’s known wolf packs live in Kretz’s northeast Washington district, which is largely rural and forested and is the size of Massachusetts. Kretz is a vocal supporter of his constituents’ way of life and fights back when he perceives it to be threatened. He advocates for a lower bar to kill wolves when they prey on livestock. And, in a cheekier move, in 2013 he introduced a bill that would have shipped wolves off to the San Juan Islands, the popular getaway northwest of Seattle.

One morning in late autumn, I drove a few hours and turned at the crossroads of Wauconda, to visit Kretz. When not in the state capital Olympia, he lives here at his 1,400-acre Promised Land Ranch. Kretz poured coffee in his kitchen near a sign that read “Life’s Better in Cowboy Boots.” He wore a hide-colored Wrangler pearl-button shirt and a tooled leather belt with a silver buckle, his trademark wrangler’s mustache completing the effect. Out the window, a weak December sun rose above a corral steaming with quarter horses, which Kretz raises and sells.

Kretz told me he had mistrusted Wielgus for a long time, since Wielgus’s initial mountain-lion studies. “A lot of the state’s wildlife policy has been based on his work over the last 10 or 15 years, and I’d say at one time he did good work,” Kretz told me. “I mean, he’s a smart guy.” But Wielgus had “drifted,” Kretz said. Kretz himself is a sometime lion hunter; in a local newspaper, I found a picture of him sitting on a pickup’s tailgate beside a big dead tom, wearing stripes of its blood on his cheeks like war paint. Wielgus “has an animal rights agenda, and it taints his work,” Kretz said, though he didn’t point to any science refuting the peer-reviewed lion research. By leading to policies that maintained low limits on the number of cougars that could be harvested, Kretz said, Wielgus’s cougar work made it harder for people in rural areas to manage (i.e., kill) the cats. He suggested that tying the hands of his constituents could increase attacks by the animals on children. (Cougar attacks on humans are in fact rare.)

So Wielgus and his graduate students already had an ardent skeptic watching them when they got to work in 2013 recruiting ranchers for their wolf-livestock study. It was slow-going at first. Many ranchers were reluctant to collaborate in a study about wolves. And Wielgus didn’t always endear himself to people. Over hours of conversation, I found him to be articulate, irreverent and passionate — and also blunt, cocksure, hyperbolic and prone to melodrama. It could be hard to tell at times whether he was performing for me. Among scientists, who can be a maddeningly careful, even beige species, he was unusual for saying exactly what he thought, often at high volume. His indelicacy made him poorly suited to enter the charged world of wolf politics.

All sides got a taste of Wielgus in the summer of 2014 after wolves from the Huckleberry pack in northeast Washington killed dozens of sheep that belonged to a single rancher. (Packs are usually named after a nearby mountain or other feature, in this case Huckleberry Mountain.) As events unfolded, there was plenty of blame to go around, said Carter Niemeyer, a well-regarded wolf expert who worked with Wielgus at the time: The rancher didn’t take prudent efforts to safeguard his sheep, which fomented the chaos; then, a government shooter made the critical mistake of killing the wolf pack’s breeding female. Afterward, at a meeting of the Wolf Advisory Group, a regular convening of ranchers, hunters, local politicians and environmentalists that helps guide the state’s wolf policy, Wielgus stood up and criticized just about everyone involved, recalled Niemeyer, who was at the meeting. “Some of the stuff Rob is doing is what a lot of us would like to do, but we know better,” Niemeyer told me. “He walks in and doesn’t respect the politics of wolves.”

Wielgus didn’t particularly disagree with that assessment. “I’m crude and rude,” he said the day after our talk in the bar. “Always have been.” (Chulo lobo — Spanish for “wolf pimp,” a slur someone once called Wielgus — is stenciled on his Harley’s gas tank.) We were driving east, through a land dressed for autumn. Over Sherman Pass, Wielgus turned his black pickup onto a Forest Service road. His satellite radio was set to Outlaw Country. When I asked whether he’d considered the merits of deploying honey versus vinegar, he retorted, “Bullshit is superdiplomatic.” And he added: “I’m not gonna mince my words and pretend to be a nice diplomatic guy, ’cause I’m not. I’m a pissed-off scientist.”

We rattled higher through dark spruce and lodgepole. Mist snagged on the peaks. “It’s great wolf country,” he said, waving a hand before the windshield. We crossed one cattle guard, then another.

In the fall of 2014, Wielgus and a colleague published the lab’s first wolf study in the journal PLOS One. Crunching a quarter-century of data about wolf attacks on livestock in three other states, the authors found something unusual: Killing wolves one year was associated with more, not fewer, deaths of livestock the following year. The paper further suggested that killing wolves may cause the increased livestock deaths. Just because two things are correlated doesn’t mean that one causes the other, but Wielgus posited a firm connection. As he explained to me, killing wolves fractures the highly regimented social order of the pack. “So, if you kill wolves, you get more breeding pairs, you get more livestock depredation.” This was of a piece with his previous work: When humans kill the apex predator, a chaotic reshuffling is set into motion, with unintended consequences.

If Wielgus’s reasoning was correct, the finding was explosive. It undermined “lethal control” — killing wolves — a major, and controversial, tool many states use to manage wolves and that some environmentalists reluctantly tolerate as the price of getting the animals back on the landscape. (In Washington today, if a livestock owner loses three animals in 30 days, or four in 10 months, and has undertaken at least two measures to deter wolves, the state may begin to eliminate the predators.)

The study made national headlines. It also fired up some lawmakers and ranching and agriculture groups. At the time, Wielgus’s university had been looking for money and support for a few major construction projects, including some tied to the College of Agriculture. W.S.U. also was gathering support to build a medical school in Spokane. As reported in The Seattle Times, when the study appeared, an outside lobbyist for W.S.U. wrote to the university’s director of state relations, Chris Mulick, “[H]ighly ranked Senators have said that the medical school and wolves are linked. If wolves continue to go poorly, there won’t be a new medical school.”

“[W]e’re looking a wee bit like Sonny on the causeway here,” Mulick wrote to another university official, alluding to the assassination scene in “The Godfather.”

Soon after that, in early 2015, several of Wielgus’s graduate students visited the state Capitol to present their ongoing wolf-livestock work to lawmakers. When they stopped by to see Kretz in his office, he was friendly and showed off some hunting pictures, they said. Then he told them matter-of-factly that he planned to shut down Wielgus’s lab. (Kretz said he only vowed to cut off state funding.)

During state budget negotiations a few months later, when it was time to fund the next round of wolf research, many Republican legislators balked. Kretz was willing to work with Democrats to secure money for the work, which he told me he thought was important for ranchers, his constituents. But he had a condition: The money had to be rerouted through another research group, essentially laundering it of Wielgus’s name. No longer would Wielgus be the primary researcher, a professional blow that also meant he couldn’t be paid for his months of summer work each year — a change that would cost him tens of thousands of dollars. Kretz told me that he undertook the action to be fiscally responsible, to not let money flow to a researcher he found disreputable.

By that fall, Wielgus had started to see signs that his university no longer supported him against his critics. He and a doctoral student published two more papers about the behavior of mountain lions. Again, the results were counterintuitive: They found that hunting older male cougars seems to increase the preying of cougars on populations of mule deer and also critically endangered mountain caribou in the Pacific Northwest. Before the papers’ publication, Wielgus worked with a university writer on a news release to the media. “I’ve just learned another Wielgus study news release is set for release,” Chris Mulick wrote to fellow administrators. “I am happy to beg that we not go forward with this.” The interim co-provost then emailed the writer who wrote the release: “[P]lease do NOT release this on Monday. Our government relations staff have advised that this could potentially create substantial difficulties for CAHNRS [the ag school] and W.S.U.” W.S.U. also spiked an already-completed profile of Wielgus slated for the university magazine. Wielgus emailed his doctoral student, “My name is voldemort in wa. ... he who must never be mentioned.”

So Wielgus was already feeling persecuted when, in early 2016, researchers at the University of Washington and Kathmandu University published a study that contradicted Wielgus’s 2014 findings. Tweaking the statistical models, they determined that killing a wolf one year decreases the number of cattle and sheep killed the next year. To his opponents, the rebuttal study was support for their case that Wielgus was biased and doing shoddy work in the service of his prejudice. Wielgus saw it as part of a political vendetta against him — a rival university prompted to do a hit job.

Later, Lyudmyla Kompaniyets and Marc Evans of W.S.U. took a third cut at the same data and came to yet another result. Their study found that Wielgus was correct that more cattle died even as wolf deaths increased. But they concluded that Wielgus’s study overlooked a simpler explanation for that rise in livestock depredation: Wolves were proliferating at the time. Recent papers from other researchers have added texture to the data around the effectiveness of lethal control but as yet provide no definitive answer. From a distance, this just looks like science as usual, moving forward in its crooked line.

But the topic here was wolves, and that weaponized everything.

After what seemed like hours of driving, Wielgus turned onto a rough spur road and stopped the truck at a hairpin turn on the hillside. On the drive he had been talkative; now he grew quiet. He climbed out and motioned with a fresh cigarette: A few hundred yards from here the Profanity wolf pack, named for nearby Profanity Peak, made its den in the spring of 2016. Wielgus wouldn’t walk any closer. “I just don’t want to go where the pups were gunned down,” he said.

Wolf packs have large territories — Profanity’s was about 350 square miles, and it overlapped with parts of the Colville National Forest where ranchers lease public land to graze their cattle for market. That spring, the Diamond M Ranch released its cattle a few miles from the new den, where the pups had been born. By July the Profanity pack had killed its first calf. By August as many as eight more cows were dead. That’s when the agency shot two wolves by helicopter.

Wielgus was livid. He isn’t against killing wolves as a last resort, he explained, but this, he said, was no last resort. He and his grad students were monitoring the radio-collared Profanity wolves at the time. By the end of June, the wildlife agency knew where the new den site was, and that the pack had pups. They also knew that the ranch had set salt blocks nearby, which attract cattle, who lick them for the needed minerals. But even after the first livestock was confirmed killed in early July, no one moved the salt blocks, “and no one moved the livestock,” Wielgus said. Trail cameras used to monitor the pack showed that cows were all around the area through July. Once the area’s deer, a preferred prey, were scared off by the cows, wolves opportunistically attacked cattle, he said. Wielgus insists to this day that the Diamond M’s patriarch, Len McIrvin, could have been prodded by the state to take steps — quickly moving the salt blocks, removing cattle from the den site — to avoid serious problems. But McIrvin, who has a well-documented antipathy to wolves and has three times had the state kill wolves for him after taking cattle losses, all but forced further confrontation by his inaction, Wielgus claimed. And, he said, the state was complicit for making nice with the rancher while not forcing him to do more. “The movie is called ‘Set Up and Sold Out,’ ” Wielgus fumed.

Threading through and animating Wielgus’s fury is what he sees as a systemic problem: Little is legally required of ranchers before the state agrees to kill wolves on their behalf. At the time, ranchers were required to remove any dead animals and undertake just one additional preventive measure from a menu of options, which could be as basic as not turning out to pasture underweight calves that could be easier targets. Low bars like this, in Wielgus’s view, result in more conflict; we’re dragging out this century-long fight over predators rather than resolving it. But there’s a smarter, more humane way to live in harmony with wolves, he said. Yes, it will require uprooting some of the old ways. It will take more effort. But these are also public lands, and the wolves belong there, too.

In a seven-year case study published last year, researchers found that sheepherders in Idaho who used a strategic array of nonlethal deterrents — from flagged fences to dogs to increased human presence — to protect sheep from wolves on public lands experienced significantly lower wolf depredations. Sheepherders lost just 0.02 percent of the sheep population in those protected areas, the lowest loss rate among sheep-wolf areas statewide. The rate was 3.5 times as high in a study area not protected against wolves. And no wolves were killed in the area in which the deterrents were used.

Of course, fencing and cowboys cost money. And lethal control is often better funded in the West than deterrence. But to demand less deterrence before we kill wolves, Wielgus argued, is unfair to wolves, cattle and even ranchers, who may over time lose their access to public lands if wolves keep needing to be killed. And it sets up a cruel paradox. “We spend millions of dollars on wolf recovery, and then what — we just shoot them? It’s insane.” He kicked at a cow pie in disgust.

The Profanity wolves killed more cattle in mid-August of 2016, and the state wildlife director approved the shooting of up to the entire pack. “I snapped,” Wielgus said. When The Seattle Times called to ask what was going on, he lashed out — at the decision to kill the wolves, at the rancher (by name) and at the rancher’s actions that, Wielgus claimed, provoked the depredation. “This livestock operator elected to put his livestock directly on top of their den site,” he told the paper.

The Profanity saga is a complicated one, more nuanced than in Wielgus’s telling, with accounts that turn on details that I have been unable to reconcile. But it does seem that Wielgus, in his anger, exaggerated some statements he made to the newspaper. The rancher didn’t know of the den’s location when he first loosed his cattle a few miles away, said Donny Martorello, the wolf-policy lead for the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, and he cooperated with wildlife officials. The situation that summer was “dynamic,” Martorello said, with the wolves moving around the area quite a bit. Wolves and cattle-grazing areas overlap almost everywhere in the state, he concluded: “To think we’re going to stop all conflict is not realistic.”

I called the rancher, McIrvin, who lives hard by the Canadian border. He said that he and other ranchers weren’t told precisely where the den site was. He didn’t put his salt lick right atop a wolf den that spring; he put it right where he has put it for decades, where the Forest Service had told him to put it, he said, which turned out to be near the den.

But McIrvin showed little interest in relitigating the past, and he also showed little patience for anyone who wanted to accommodate wolves. “The range riders, all they are is coroners to find the dead ones,” he said of cattle, of which he claims to lose 70 per year to the predator, though he acknowledged the state can’t confirm that. There’s only one deterrence that works: “Putting the fear of man into that mother wolf,” he said. “We could take care of the wolves. That’s no problem. It’s the bureaucracy that’s the problem.”

In any event, Wielgus’s comments to the newspaper were a grenade tossed into a tomato patch. The rancher got death threats from wolf advocates. Martorello had to hide his wife in a hotel. Wielgus soon received a call from Ron Mittelhammer, who was dean of the College of Agriculture, grilling him about whether he made false statements about the Profanity incident. He was ordered by the dean not to speak to the public about wolves without coordinating with the university.

Internal emails that I obtained through public-disclosure requests reveal university administrators deeply worried about blowback from the uproar; they were in repeated contact with Republican legislators and the cattlemen’s association as they coordinated their response. Within days W.S.U. issued an unusual news release that excoriated its own faculty member, apologized to the community and “disavowed” Wielgus’s statements. He received a “letter of concern” — his first of two in the next several months — reprimanding him for inappropriate conduct. Later, at the urging of Kretz and other Republican legislators, W.S.U. had a professor of statistics and mathematics analyze Wielgus’s 2014 wolf study for error. (The university found “no evidence of research misconduct.”)

W.S.U.’s swift action after the Profanity incident earned high praise from Wielgus’s opponents in the Legislature. “You guys really kicked ass on that wolves thing,” Mark Schoesler, the powerful anti-wolf leader of Republicans in the State Senate, said in a call to Chris Mulick afterward, as recounted in an email from Mulick to W.S.U.’s president. Mulick added, “His wife does some work of the Cattlemen’s Association and he joked that their dinner conversations have been much improved.”

Back on the mountain, a low slid across the sky like a dirty blanket. Wielgus finished yet another cigarette and looked around. His voice quavered. “I tried my best, Blackie,” he said, naming a wolf that had been killed. He kicked at the ground again, turned away, groaned. I thought I was seeing an act. Then I realized that’s just Wielgus: passionate, at times almost to the point of self-parody.

I thought of what I had heard a few times from people who knew Wielgus, both fans and critics: He was a man bearing a valuable message: that with more deterrence, you can reduce livestock deaths. Handled more deftly, the incident could have been a chance to talk more constructively about how to manage wolves better going forward, said Paula Swedeen, policy director of Conservation Northwest, whose group is trying to bring back wolves while bridging the divide with ranchers.

What doubly frustrated some people about the Profanity incident is that, after years of mistrust and false starts, the warring sides finally had reached a tentative détente and were starting to move forward, albeit carefully, they said. But by attacking the rancher and getting some things wrong, Wielgus “ruined the credibility of his own work and the students’ work,” Swedeen said.

A gallery of Herefords had gathered in a half-ring behind us as Wielgus and I spoke, and now they watched him as if they were some mute Greek chorus. “[Expletive] this place,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

Wielgus and I climbed into his pickup and jounced back toward the blacktop. I asked him what he would do next. He said he didn’t know. Six months earlier, his lawyer filed a complaint against W.S.U. alleging numerous violations of academic freedom and requesting “corrective actions” including a retraction of its public excoriation of him and reimbursement of pay lost when his grants were shifted out of his lab. The complaint was prelude either to a lawsuit or a settlement. Though Wielgus continued to teach, he knew his career at W.S.U. was over. He would see if he could find other work at other universities, out of state, he said. He still had research he wanted to do. (In the spring, Wielgus would resign his post and drop the complaint in exchange for a $300,000 settlement.) Some of the research recently completed in his lab — work done by graduate students and potentially useful to all sides — now sat on the shelf, too toxic to touch, at least in Washington. Everyone had lost, including taxpayers who funded the work.

The state’s wolf population, meanwhile, was growing by about 30 percent annually. This spring the federal government announced that it was reviewing the status of Canis lupus in the Lower 48 and, by year’s end, could issue a proposal to revise the wolf’s status, possibly to reduce protection for the animal. But for now, and despite occasional poaching, sanctioned shooting and rough-and-tumble human politics, the wolves were doing pretty well.

[music-of-silence]

An Authentic Autobiography of New York Hardcore Pioneer, Creator, and Survivor of the Movement If you love reading honest material coming from a first hand account of what certain eras were like, read this book. Harley is a pioneer, a man who was behind the scenes before the scene, creating, doing, exploring, but with much difficulty experiencing hard times in the lower east side of Manhattan. You get violence, drug use, music etc. all rolled up into an extraordinary account and without it feeling like it's just him bragging about it. You may find it repetitive at times with all the fighting going on but that's what it was all about, survival in the streets. You will walk away with a completely different perspective on the term "skinhead" and for the better... he explains how the skinhead movement turned out into the neo-nazi bs it is today. I never laughed so hard as when I read about the subway incident during the NYC morning commute. You will also get a clear first hand account of the fateful CBGB incident in 2012 at Webster hall. Harley was and still is the real deal! This book has inspired me to quit my bitching and man up with certain things in my life. So thank you Harley, you're the man! Go to Amazon

The other side of the sorbid tale... I read this and Evolution of a Cro-Mag back to back. I suggested other people interested in HC roots and, particularly, the Cro-Mags, do the same. Go to Amazon

or ANYONE interested in a good read about a true punk/hardcore legend A MUST read for any CroMags fan,NYHC fan, crossover period metal fan, 80s and/or 70s punk fan, or ANYONE interested in a good read about a true punk/hardcore legend, straight from the horse's mouth. Love him or hate him, take sides or don't, this is a great read. Doesn't pull any punches, and doesn't attempt to smear anyone else's name. Anyone familiar with the Cromags, is undoubtedly aware of the static the members have with each other; Harley says it like it is. Great stories from his years as a pre-pubescent drummer for The Stimulators, playin' Max's Kansas City and CBGB and subsequent touring, his time in San Francisco in the notorious Vat days, and back to the L.E.S. to finally start CroMags for better or worse, and continues on through kids, marriage, Brazillian Jiu Jitsu with the world famous Gracie family, and gives his side of the story regarding the headline making 'incident' in NYC at a performance by current CroMags line-up led by front-man John Joseph, at the CBGB Festival at Webster Hall. Go to Amazon

Seeing the Cro mags in their heyday was the greatest form of chaotic release one could experience and they ... when younger people ask me to describe the late 70's early 80's Lower NYC atmosphere , people etc I always find myself saying " you kind of had to be there" as if I told you some stuff, half of it your mind wouldn't be able to compute , seeing HF at I believ 13 years old one day while me and my pals were in WSP cutting school and we see this kid, no shirt on, shaved head, no crew cult but bald and wearing combat boots and he had a tattoo was almost one of those " am I seeing what I think I am , and man this must be some ill herb " he was without a doubt the first skinhead I had ever seen in NYC and that's saying something as it was freak show , his life story is deep, raw to the bone Oliver Twist type tip but uhh scarier , the fact he has come out the other side of walking through the fire most would be incinerated by after a couple steps , this kid ran a marathon through . Seeing the Cro mags in their heyday was the greatest form of chaotic release one could experience and they were ours and no matter what happens in the future , their legacy started by a 13 year old kid in some dank apartment on the LES came to fruition and has spawned generations of imitators who will never know those times and sadly should know their roots, reading this book will be like Crib Notes on the entire history of the real NYHC story but this story goes beyond that and reminds me of a Punk rock version of a Jack London novel or a more drug fueled version of one of my favorite tales of adventure Education of a Wandering man by Louis Lamour . Essential reading Go to Amazon

You have to read this book I knew Harley from just about the time the CroMags started. I was just another hc kid hanging out in the scene, not a musician or sell known character like he was. his band was my favorite in the NYHC scene and I saw almost every early show they played at CBs. Even then Harleys reputation preceded him. On stage he was an wild animal, stiring up all the young crazy kids like me, bouncing off the walls to the beat of Harleys sick bass lines. Since I was part of the world described in this book, I can vouch for its authenticity. he didn't have to embellish anything since the truth is way more exciting! Not only is the subject matter fascinating(at least to me) but his writing style is great. I couldn't put this book down. way to go Harley. Go to Amazon

Essential! What a compelling read! This book tells it like it was back in the late days of punk and the creation of hardcore. This is essential reading for any modern musician who thinks they know what went down back in the day! I knew alot of these stories (they are legendary if you were around the scene back then) but I learned a whole lot more about this warrior who fought through so many obstacles and never gave up! Go to Amazon

THE BEST BOOK TO DATE ABOUT HOW THE NYC HARDCORE SCENE GOT STARTED WRITTEN BY ONE OF THE ORIGINALS! BRILLIANT!!! Five Stars Powerful, no holds barred and heartfelt story aaahhhhhhhh just stubbed my toooooooe A Punk/Metalhead's Must Buy! A wild, intense ride through the life of a music legend. King of hardcore Crazy!! Best book ever A must read for all that were there and survived. And for those that weren't there read on you will feel like you were there.

[tanmath3-blog]

Jeff Lee has the most amazing personality. He will make you laugh till it hurts then laugh some more. I have really enjoyed getting to know him and so will you. This makes his books unique and personal. Some you don’t want to miss. Please take the time to get to know Jeff Lee and support him and his writing. Don’t forget to leave a review! Please help me welcome Jeff Lee to Roadie Notes……..

    1. How old were you when you first wrote your first story? I was about 12, and in the 8th grade. My teacher was a real bug about the Civil War, and he assigned everyone in the class a minimum 50-page report on the Civil War. I got about 35 single-spaced, typed pages in and started filling space with limericks and funny short stories. Got a D minus, plus a handwritten note that said, “I had no idea the Battle of Gettysburg was such a hoot. Stop making fun of our country’s history”.

2. How many books have you written? I’ve written 5 books – four in my “Adventures in La-La Land” comedy crime series, plus a paranormal book about extreme teenage bullying and where it could lead. I’m currently working on the fifth book in my La-La Land series, as well.

3. Anything you won’t write about? Well, I won’t write about cruelty to animals. Or non-fiction. Hey, if you want to learn the in’s and outs of building your own bookcase or fun ways to decorate with melons & cinderblocks, I’m not your guy.

4. Tell me about you. Age (if you don’t mind answering), married, kids, do you have another job etc… Ok, I’m 68, have two sons and I live with one of them in a suburb of L.A. that’s loaded with palm trees (how’s that for a clue?). My wife passed about 6 weeks before 911. I’m retired, having spent my entire earlier writing career in Los Angeles. I was an advertising copywriter and creative director for a number of ad agencies around town. Won a lot of silly wards for my wiseass sense of humor. But I’m much happier now, doing my own writing, and not having to fill out monthly expense reports. Or patiently explain to yet another bonkers showbiz mom why her untalented little Bree, Jennifer, Dylan, Monika or Rocki didn’t get hired for the commercial.

5. What’s your favorite book you have written? Whoa…that’s a tough one. I’d probably have to say CHUMP CHANGE, the third book in my La-La Land series. I had already written a couple of comedy crime/murder stories, but this time around, I got good and ambitious. Wanted to see how many characters and completely gonzo situations I could squeeze into one book (Don’t forget – this is L.A. we’re talking about.) As a result, I had crooked TV preachers; psycho showbiz moms; naked Roman Zombies; and porn stars who sound like Colonel Klink from Hogan’s Heroes. Plus, what’s got to be the most hysterical explicit sex scenes ever put on paper – a porn shoot that goes wackily off the rails.

6. Who or what inspired you to write? Like I said, I’ve been writing since I almost got kept back in the eighth grade. Then I spent about four decades creating and writing humorous ads and commercials. So, I’ve pretty much always been a writer.

7. What do you like to do for fun?

I don’t know – I love to cook (that’s how the Army trained me to be a dangerous human being). I also enjoy watching documentaries on Netflix; ridiculing Republicans; playing online Scrabble with my sister, who’s also a comedy-based advertising writer. And if I’m REALLY bored, I’ll put on my best cargo shorts and t-shirt, then go to the nearest LAPD precinct headquarters and confesses to famous unsolved murders and crimes that happened more than a century ago. Almost had them convinced that I was the Sundance Kid.

8. Any traditions you do when you finish a book?

Not a tradition so much, as a feeling that always comes over me. Five minutes after finishing work on another book, I always feel like I’m at a big picnic and I’ve been engaged in a massive tug of war – and the other side has let go of the rope. Could be worse – I could feel like I was trying to find someone to partner up with for the 3-legged race. Or the ‘no-handed’ pie eating event.

9. Where do you write? Quite or music?

I write in a lot of different places – at home; at Starbucks; at Mickey D’s. The only limit is the length of my extension cord and my USB cable.

10. Anything you would change about your writing?

Well, I wish more people knew about it. But other than that, not really.

11. What is your dream? Famous writer?

I guess my dream would be to see one of my books turned into a movie. That, and maybe saying something at a party that puts Woody Allen on the floor, laughing so hard he’s in tears.

12. Where do you live?

I live in an apartment in one of the L.A. suburbs that’s named after one of the long-dead generals from my old Civil War report.

13. Pets?

One dog and one cat – in that order.

14. What’s your favorite thing about writing?

Like I said, I’m about 60 pages and 25,000 words into the next book in my La-La Land comedy crime/murder series. And this puppy is taking on a life of its own. Like the other books in the series, it stars Fish Fishbein, my heavily tattooed, Harley-riding repo man and bounty hunter to the stars. It also features a ton of Republicans and the Sioux nation. But that’s all my handlers will let me say right now.

15. What is coming next for you?

Probably dinner…but I’m just guessing here.

  Anything else you would like me to include please feel free to tell me!

Let’s see…I’m 6’1”, blind as a bat, and I’m a double Leo. Which means I make a heck of an entrance—when I’m not colliding with door frames.

  You can connect with Jeff Lee here: Amazon Author Page: amzn.to/20j8CQp

Facebook Author Page: on.fb.me/1QPczqQ

Website: bit.ly/1uHEmSo

Farewell Tour’s Amazon link: amzn.to/1KEN8U3

Twitter: @jfredlee

  Some of Jeff Lee’s books:

Getting personal with Jeff Lee Jeff Lee has the most amazing personality. He will make you laugh till it hurts then laugh some more.

[momscookingthebooks]

Alphas of Danger Anthology

Synopsis:

Happy-Ever-After has never been so intoxicating…

Danger…

When a man has beaten it, he becomes a hero.

Lust...

When a woman tastes it, she is helpless to resist his pull.

Love…

It won’t come easily, especially between alpha men and their headstrong women. Threats lurk in the shadows, and the price for passion is often exacted with a bullet or a blade…but the sacrifice is worth it when devotion is the reward.

Ten bestselling authors, masters of spine-tingling romantic suspense, bring you brand-new stories that will yank you to the edge of your seat and have your heart pounding as you turn the pages.

Best of all, we are contributing to 4 Paws for Ability, a worldwide agency that enriches the lives of children and veterans with disabilities by training and placing quality, task-trained service dogs.

Stories Contributed to Alphas of Danger:

1. SHAYLA BLACK - FRISKY BUSINESS

2. LEXI BLAKE - COUNTDOWN

3. MARI CARR - POWER STRUGGLE

4. KRIS COOK - CIA COVERT TEAM: RAINBOW KNIGHTS (M/M)

5. ANISSA GARCIA - WITH A VENGEANCE

6. KYM GROSSO - HARD ASSET

7. JENNA JACOB - REVENGE ON THE ROCKS

8. KENNEDY LAYNE - SEDUCING DANGER

9. ISABELLA LAPEARL - ENFORCE HER - A LEATHER, PIPES & PASSION SHORT STORY

10. CARRIE ANN RYAN - EXECUTIVE INK - A MONTGOMERY INK SHORT STORY

For more information about this nonprofit organization: http://4pawsforability.org/

Buy Link:

Kobo - http://bit.ly/AoDKobo

Barnes & Noble - http://bit.ly/AODNook

iBooks – Coming Soon

Amazon – Coming Soon

About Authors:

SHAYLA BLACK

Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than fifty novels. For over fifteen years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past seven years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her teenage daughter, and two very spoiled cats. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

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LEXI BLAKE

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband, three kids, and the laziest rescue dog in the world. She began writing at a young age, concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance that she found success. She likes to find humor in the strangest places. Lexi believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome or foursome may seem.

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MARI CARR

Writing a book was number one on Mari Carr’s bucket list and on her thirty-fourth birthday, she set out to see that goal achieved. Too many years later, her computer is jammed full of stories — novels, novellas, short stories and dead-ends and she has nearly eighty published works.

Virginia native, Mari Carr is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestseller of contemporary erotic romance novels. With over one million copies of her books sold, Mari was the winner of the Romance Writers of America’s Passionate Plume award for her novella, Erotic Research.

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KRIS COOK

Though starting in straight erotic romance, Kris's total focus now is on gay romance. When asked why recently, his answer was "My muse finally came out of the closet. Isn't it about time? I've been out since I was twenty-five."

A voracious reader, Kris loves many genres of fiction, but this writer's favorite books are romances that are edgy, sexy, with rich characters and unique challenges. Kris's influences include Anne Rice, JR Ward, Lexi Blake and Shayla Black.

Kris is also the co-host of Romance OUT Loud, an audio podcast that features some of the best voices in gay romance fiction like, Andrew Grey, Damon Suede, Kindle Alexander, Felice Stevens, L.A. Witt, Sarina Bowen, and more.

Kris is married to the love of his life - Stephen. 

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ANISSA GARCIA

Anissa Garcia earned her Bachelor’s Degree in Speech Communications and English.  She held an array of jobs including Public Relations Manager for Barnes and Noble.  Wanting a change of pace, she attended The American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and trained full-time in theatre for two years.  After working in Hollywood as an actress and casting assistant, she relocated to Austin, Texas and began writing freelance for Cosmopolitan and other publications.  Her first book, A Promise Kept, is available now.  A Promise Made will be available November 2016.  When not writing stories, watching movies, or drinking a latte, she loves to daydream about romantic fictional men.

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KYM GROSSO

Kym Grosso is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the erotic paranormal series, The Immortals of New Orleans, and the contemporary erotic suspense series, Club Altura. In addition to romance novels, Kym has written and published several articles about autism, and is passionate about autism advocacy. She is also a contributing essay author in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Raising Kids on the Spectrum.

She lives in suburban Pennsylvania but has a not-so-secret desire to move to a beach in southern California where she can write while listening to the roar of the ocean.  She holds a bachelor’s degree from West Chester University and a MBA from Widener University.  In a previous life, she was employed as a speech therapist, a health care consultant, and a product manager for a software company.  In 2012, Kym published her first novel and today, is a full time indie romance author.

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JENNA JACOB

USA Today Bestselling author Jenna Jacob paints a canvas of passion, romance, and humor as her Alpha men and the feisty women who love them unravel their souls and heal their scars to find their happily-ever-after kind of love. Heart-tugging, captivating, and steamy, Jenna’s books will surely leave you breathless and craving more.

A mom of four grown children, Jenna and her Alpha-Hunk husband live in Kansas. Jenna loves books, Harleys, music, and camping. Jenna’s zany sense of humor and lack of filter exemplify her motto: Live. Laugh. Love.

Meet the wild and wicked family in her sultry series: The Doms of Genesis. Or become spellbound by the searing love connection between Raine, Hammer, and Liam in her continuing saga: The Doms of Her Life (co-written with the amazing Shayla Black and Isabella La Pearl). Journey with couples struggling to resolve their pasts to discover unbridled love and devotion in Jenna’s new contemporary series: Passionate Hearts.

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KENNEDY LAYNE

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace.

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ISABELLA LAPEARL

Isabella LaPearl is a USA Today bestselling author known for her collaboration with Shayla Black & Jenna Jacob for the Doms of Her Life Series. She enjoys writing sexy, erotic romance. A wife, mother, writer, reader and a love for riding motorcycles.

To say it's been an extraordinary journey thus far would be an understatement... what a rush! What a thrill to realize dreams and see them go from a seed to fruition. So for all you aspiring Authors, who like me, have a fire inside that burns brightly and demands to be sated by writing... Never give up.

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CARRIE ANN RYAN

Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Talon Pack, and Gallagher Brothers series, which have sold over 2.0 million books worldwide. She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over fifty novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not writing about bearded tattooed men or alpha wolves that need to find their mates, she’s reading as much as she can and exploring the world of baking and gourmet cooking.

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