#also if you sent me an ask in the last 36 hours I have received it

[allylikethecat]

January OTP Prompts

This one almost didn't happen because I left my home at 7am this morning and did not return until after 10pm this evening. Your girl is tired but she powered through!

Warnings: implied / referenced previous suicide attempt (implied and happened off screen - resulting in a bathroom being repainted)

12. New paint

The scent of new paint assaulted Matty’s senses, a sharp and unexpected acidic sting causing him to wrinkle his nose the second he walked through the front door. The pungent, turpentine odor tickled his sinuses, causing him to sneeze into his elbow, his eyes watering from the force. 

“Sorry,” said George, rubbing the back of his neck, he was nervous, visibly as uncomfortable as Matty felt as they tiptoed around one another. Matty wanted George to scoop him into his arms, to tell him he forgave him, to squeeze him tight and never let go. But George was looking at him like he thought if he touched Matty he would shatter. “I thought the fumes would have dispersed a little bit more by now, the painting was finished weeks ago.” 

“What painting?” Matty asked, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck, and sliding off his heavy winter coat. He hung them up in the hall closet without George even having to ask, the motion managing to feel both the most natural, and the most foreign to his body. He felt like a stranger in their home, taking in the little details he hadn’t cared to notice before. The pictures of him and George hanging on the walls, the fuzzy blanket laying on the back of the couch. 

“Um,” said George, his cheeks pink and the tops of his ears burning. “I had the bathroom remodeled while you were gone.” 

Matty blinked, surprised, torn between arguing that it seemed like a decision they should have made together, and making a joke that he hadn’t been gone that long and that if George wanted new tile he didn’t need to send him away to get it. Instead Matty looked down at his feet feeling like a visitor in his own home. He should have taken his shoes off he realized, keeping them on made him feel like he already had one foot out the door. 

“Why?” he asked instead, hating himself the second the word was out of his mouth and George’s face dropped. 

“The tub was ruined,” George said, swallowing hard, “and I didn’t want to look at it anyway.”

“Oh,” said Matty, the implication of George’s words hitting him all at once. Guilt filled his chest despite the weeks of inpatient therapy. He was sick. He needed help. He had gotten it. He was doing better now. 

“But you’re back, and the bathroom is finished, and it’s a fresh start for both of us.” George said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as if he wasn’t sure how Matty was going to react. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, blurting out the words before he could think about them, before he could second guess and keep them inside. “I’m sorry that I put you through all of that.” He swallowed hard, “I’m sorry for ruining the bathroom.” 

George gave him a lopsided smile, Matty knew it was forced but appreciated the thought regardless. “Nothing, some new paint couldn’t fix.” 

Matty appreciated him lying. 

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

[mollybecameanengineer]

Incubo

Summary: The week before Scully goes on maternity leave, she and Mulder head to New Jersey to investigate a series of suspicious deaths. However, neither of them could have predicted how personal it would become.

word count: 7686 | Teen | MSR | @today-in-fic

Read on AO3 or check out the first chapter below the break

This is part of an episodic series called A Second Chance. All the episodes are collected, in order, using AO3’s series feature. The concept of the series is to rewrite seasons 8 and 9. It deals with Mulder’s return from the dead, the birth of William, and Mulder and Scully trying to juggle family life with impending doom.

If you don’t want to read the whole thing, but want to read this story, here is what you need to know…

Previously on A Second Chance: Mulder has returned to the living. Scully is pregnant with what she believes to be their child, but Mulder has doubts. However, he has publicly acknowledged the child. Mulder and Scully are now living together. Since he was declared dead, Mulder had to be re-hired by the FBI, rather than having a job to come back to. Reyes has been partnered with Doggett since This Is Not Happening.

Chapter 1

Today was Mulder’s first day back at the FBI – and it wasn’t going well. 

He and Scully had gone back and forth about him starting before or after the baby was born. But after the debacle with the oil rig, he wanted his badge back. When he’d received his official offer, he filled out the paperwork and requested to start as soon as possible, though it meant he’d have to take unpaid leave when the baby came.

But now that he was sitting at his desk (or Scully’s desk, he wasn’t sure who had ownership at this point), trying to log on to the computer so he could do hours of mandatory trainings, he questioned why he had been in such a hurry. 

Glaring at the screen, he tried again: 

username: fmulder 

password: tru5tn015cully 

The computer told him, yet again, that his username and password weren’t recognized. 

If it had been just him and Scully in the office, he would have been cursing and possibly kicking the trash can by now. But with Doggett and Reyes quietly typing away at their desks, he felt like he had to restrain himself. 

Scully came over and started looking through the file cabinet. She was wearing loose pants, a sweater, and flat dress shoes – all concessions to being 36 weeks pregnant. Whenever she was near, he wanted to reach out and touch her, caress her stomach. He didn’t understand why this was – before he had been abducted, he’d liked to touch her. But now it felt like more of a compulsion. He chalked it up to evolution. He was trying to possess or protect his mate, or some such crap. 

Again, he wished Doggett and Reyes would get out of his office, so he could hold her.

“Why aren’t you doing those trainings?” Scully asked, glancing at his computer screen. 

“The stupid thing won’t let me log on.”

Scully came over and leaned against the desk. She looked uncomfortable. It was probably a good thing this was her last week at work, before maternity leave. Mulder didn’t relish the idea of weeks in the office without her, though she thought it might give him a chance to bond with Reyes and Doggett. 

Maybe he could convince Skinner that four of them in this office was two too many. Though maybe he should also lay low, because his boss had done some fancy finagling to get a fourth agent assigned to the X-FIles. 

Scully looked at his computer, then down at his onboarding paperwork. “That isn’t your username anymore.” She pointed to the paper. There, clear as day, it said his email was fwmulder@fbi.gov.

“They changed my email?” 

Reyes spun around in her chair. Evidently she’d been listening. (All the more reason to get the interlopers out of their office.) “I just sent you an email. It’s fmulder, right?” 

“It was,” Mulder replied.

“It didn’t bounce back. Let me check the directory.” Reyes turned back to her computer, while Mulder typed in the new username. This time it worked, he was in. He started up Outlook, and waited for the emails to load. 

Scully had gone back to her rummaging (he wondered what she was looking for). He was half watching her, half looking at Outlook, when Reyes spoke again. “Um, Agent Mulder? I think you have a problem.” 

For a moment he thought she was talking about his staring at Scully, but then he saw she was still looking at her computer. 

“What is it?” Scully asked, walking over to Reyes.

“There’s two Fox Mulders.” 

Mulder joined them. Sure enough, in the directory, there was him, with his picture from 1986 and fmulder email, and then him again, with the picture he took this morning, and his new fwmulder email. 

Scully looked up at him, smirking. “What do you think? Doppelgangers? Alien Bounty Hunters?”

Doggett spun around in his chair. “Well, whichever Mulder you are, I think we have a case.”

-----

Doggett and Reyes had left for New Jersey several hours ago, leaving Scully and Mulder (who was still doing trainings) behind. They had asked Mulder if he wanted to come along, but he’d declined. Scully wasn’t surprised. A man had shot himself in the head – it didn’t seem like an X-File.

“Six down, two to go, Scully,” Mulder said, making a show of closing the window on his computer. 

She gave him a fake smile and a thumbs up. He’d been announcing stuff like this ever since Doggett and Reyes left. 

He seemed more himself once they were gone. She understood that Mulder was protective of their space, but at some point he was going to have to accept that the X-Files wasn’t just them anymore. Scully viewed the inclusion of Reyes and Doggett as a good thing, particularly with the baby on the way. She didn’t know how else she and Mulder could keep the X-Files open. 

“Hey Scully,” Mulder called to her, already clicking through his next training. “Did you know that the videos that aren’t mine that used to be here is a type of sexual harassment?”

She looked up. “Yes. You didn’t?” 

He shook his head. 

Scully was surprised. “You actually thought it was appropriate that they were here?”

“Well, no, I guess not. I never thought about it.”

Scully sighed. For an intelligent man, he was oblivious sometimes. 

“Did you feel harassed?” Mulder asked, seeming genuinely concerned. 

Scully considered his question. At the time, eight years ago, she hadn’t felt harassed by the porn. She had thought of it more as a concession to being in a male dominated field. She had been much more bothered when her co-workers tried to touch her or called her ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart.’ Or the hundreds of ways they excluded or belittled her. A little porn had been low on her list of grievances. 

But that didn’t mean that she had been totally comfortable with its presence. 

She tried to distill her complex thoughts. “I thought it was unprofessional, but I wasn’t offended.”

Mulder, looking appeased, turned back to his computer. “Actually,” he said, scrolling, “we do a lot of the things on this list.”

“It’s only harassment if it’s unwelcome.” 

He playfully leered at her. “Oh, so you welcome my,” he turned back to the computer, “aggressively asking you out on dates?”

She rolled her eyes. “Mulder, you’ve never asked me out on a date, aggressively or not.”

He stood, and came over to where she was sitting. He leaned down, invading her personal space. “Well, maybe I thought you’d think it was harassing…”

“Why don’t you try and find out?”

Her lips were on his before he could respond. Though it was wildly inappropriate for them to be making out at work, Scully figured some light fooling around couldn’t hurt anything. Mulder had just started kissing her neck when they were interrupted by the phone. 

“Scully, I’m pretty sure that was sexual harassment, but I’m not sure who was harassing whom,” he said, as he returned to his desk to answer the phone. “Mulder.” He paused, then said, “Hold on, I’m going to put you on speaker.” Mulder pushed a button, hung up the phone, and said, “Ok, go ahead.”

Doggett’s voice came through the phone. “Like I was saying, this body is pretty weird. The ME can’t make heads or tails of how a man was shot in the head but there isn’t any sign of a firearm being used.”

Scully stood, and joined Mulder. “You mean there isn’t any powder residue?”

“Not just that,” Doggett replied. “There’s an entry wound, but no exit. Yet the ME couldn’t find a bullet.”

Scully exchanged a look with Mulder. “That is odd.”

“That’s what we were thinking. Look I don’t know if you can, but getting your insight on this one would be a real benefit, Agent Scully.”

“Can you send the body here?” Mulder asked.

“It probably won’t get here before I go out on leave,” Scully cut in before Doggett could reply. “It’s only a four hour drive to New Jersey. We can leave after my doctor’s appointment this afternoon.”

“We’d really appreciate it,” Doggett said. 

Mulder shrugged. “If you think you can make the trip.”

Scully nodded and after making arrangements with Doggett, Mulder hung up the phone.

“This reminds me of that man from Nevada–”

“Crump,” Mulder interrupted. “Mr. Crump. Do you think the military is testing those radio waves again?”

Scully shrugged. It was possible. Though if they were, she hoped it ended better than last time.

Keep reading on AO3

[carolap53]

John 7:28-53

28 Then Jesus, still teaching in the temple courts, cried out, “Yes, you know me, and you know where I am from. I am not here on my own authority, but he who sent me is true. You do not know him, 29 but I know him because I am from him and he sent me.”

30 At this they tried to seize him, but no one laid a hand on him, because his hour had not yet come. 31 Still, many in the crowd believed in him. They said, “When the Messiah comes, will he perform more signs than this man?”

32 The Pharisees heard the crowd whispering such things about him. Then the chief priests and the Pharisees sent temple guards to arrest him.

33 Jesus said, “I am with you for only a short time, and then I am going to the one who sent me. 34 You will look for me, but you will not find me; and where I am, you cannot come.”

35 The Jews said to one another, “Where does this man intend to go that we cannot find him? Will he go where our people live scattered among the Greeks, and teach the Greeks? 36 What did he mean when he said, ‘You will look for me, but you will not find me,’ and ‘Where I am, you cannot come’?”

37 On the last and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. 38 Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” 39 By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified.

40 On hearing his words, some of the people said, “Surely this man is the Prophet.”

41 Others said, “He is the Messiah.”

Still others asked, “How can the Messiah come from Galilee? 42 Does not Scripture say that the Messiah will come from David’s descendants and from Bethlehem, the town where David lived?” 43 Thus the people were divided because of Jesus. 44 Some wanted to seize him, but no one laid a hand on him.

Unbelief of the Jewish Leaders

45 Finally the temple guards went back to the chief priests and the Pharisees, who asked them, “Why didn’t you bring him in?”

46 “No one ever spoke the way this man does,” the guards replied.

47 “You mean he has deceived you also?” the Pharisees retorted. 48 “Have any of the rulers or of the Pharisees believed in him? 49 No! But this mob that knows nothing of the law—there is a curse on them.”

50 Nicodemus, who had gone to Jesus earlier and who was one of their own number, asked, 51 “Does our law condemn a man without first hearing him to find out what he has been doing?”

52 They replied, “Are you from Galilee, too? Look into it, and you will find that a prophet does not come out of Galilee.”

[The earliest manuscripts and many other ancient witnesses do not have John 7:53—8:11. A few manuscripts include these verses, wholly or in part, after John 7:36, John 21:25, Luke 21:38 or Luke 24:53.]

53 Then they all went home,

New International Version

(NIV)

[dramioneficrecommendations]

Best Draco/Hermione Fics Dramione Shippers Read in 2020

A few days ago, I asked you what were the best Dramione fics you'd read in 2020. Here's the huge list of your excellent recs (in alphabetical order):

A Creature Most Unusual by JMilz: Draco Malfoy is on a mission. Unfortunately, Hermione Granger catches him in the act. When she sees that he has adopted a rather unusual magical creature, she becomes determined to make sure he takes care of it. Little does she know, the animal may hold her key to eternal glory . . . and a whirlwind romance. M, 9 Chapters, 24,460 Words

A Little More Alive, Far Less Lost by MGL_Dramione_Lover: After Draco's post-war trial, he finds himself attending his 8th year at Hogwarts with Hermione. As remorse and acceptance replace anger and hate, the old enemies begin a friendship that sparks into much more than they ever hoped for. Hermione's goal as Head Girl is to banish old prejudices and unite the school while Draco's only wish is to become a man worthy of her love. M, 22 Chapters, 84,823

A New Light by mithrilstarlight: Draco spent six years doing his best to keep his head down. Then he runs into Hermione Granger. Turns out, they actually have a lot in common.Chapters posted M/W/F. T, 18 Chapters, 33,876 Words

A Second Look by RiverWriter: Her best friend's life was a mess and she would have done anything to make things better for him and his sons. So, when she found her former enemy in a similar situation her heart went out to him as well... and the beautiful blond baby in his arms didn't hurt his case. It was certainly enough for her to give him a second look. M, 30 Chapters, 127,243 Words

All that is Rare by smithandbarrowman: In the wizarding world, it has long been assumed that men are Alphas and women are Omegas. However, when Hermione Granger discovers that assumptions are rarely factual, her status as one of only a handful of female alphas that has ever existed has men falling at her feet.But there’s only one man she wants, and like the male alphas before her, the hunt is on until he bears her mark. E, 31 Chapters, 119,755 Words

All the Wrong Things by LovesBitca8: Sequel to "The Right Thing to Do" - Draco's POV. Part 2 of the "Rights and Wrongs" series. E, 24 Chapters, 160,297 Words

All You Want by senlinyu: Eighth Year at Hogwarts was supposed to be Hermione’s. And it is, just not in the way she expects. Omegaverse fic. E, 36 Chapters, 172,651

apples & cream by LovesBitca8: She could have taken her things and gone through his Floo without a word. She could have ignored him on Monday morning, as though last night had been no more than a fever dream and too much Firewhisky. But she’d come back to bed. Inspired by the lovely NikitaJuice's "apples & cream." E, 1 Chapter, 1,426 Words

Beginning and End by mightbewriting: Years. Broken into months into weeks into days—into hours, minutes, seconds—into moments. Simple at one end, complex at the other. In Draco’s experience, moments, even when simple, had a habit of becoming irretrievable. Moments grew, stretched, multiplied into ages and eras that defined whole stretches of measurable time. Draco regretted several moments in his life, some within his control, some without: all of them irretrievable in nature. At a certain point, wedged between ‘what-ifs’ of his own devising, he’d stopped trying to keep track of those regrettable moments: now and then, pushing and pulling, coming and going, beginning and end. Moments were only moments for just as long. After that, he had no control. A Draco POV prequel to Wait and Hope. E, 48 Chapters, 242,100 Words

Bells on a Hill by HeyJude19: Left by his fiancée a month before the ceremony, Draco never got his dream wedding, so agreeing to assist Granger with her own wedding planning to distract himself from his broken engagement seems like a great idea—though Draco probably shouldn't fall in love with the bride-to-be. Based very (very) loosely on The Wedding Singer. T, WIP

Bending Light by scullymurphy: Draco Malfoy was in exile, though they called it protection. It was the summer after sixth year and he'd taken Dumbledore's offer, defected to the other side and been sent away to a small town in Italy for his troubles. No magic, few rules, and not a lot to do - until Hermione Granger showed up. M, WIP

Break for me by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE _______________ "-I told them this wouldn’t work.” He cut in through gritted teeth as he kept his eyes on Hermione, making her pulse quicken and she couldn’t help but clench her thighs together at the rough, husky tone of his voice. He didn’t miss it; his eyes landed on her thighs and they darkened even further. “I can’t help her when all I feel like I want to do is pin her down and fuck her into the mattress.” _______________ Hermione gets into a little accident at work and is infected with a hybrid potion created to cause certain heightened side effects. Draco offers to stick around to give his work partner a little support ... if he can Occlude long enough to resist her... E, 7 Chapters, 45,107 Words

Breath Mints / Battle Scars by Onyx_and_Elm: For a moment, she's almost giddy. Because Draco Malfoy's been ruined by this war and he's as out of place as she is and — yes, he has scars too. He's got an even bigger one. She wonders whether one day they'll compare sizes. E, 51 Chapters, 148,908 Words

Bring Him to His Knees by Musyc: Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting. E, WIP

Calendar Boys by anne_ammons, Nadiapolyakova (Rijaya83): She had thrown out the idea on a lark, but now Hermione Granger was tasked with bringing the charity calendar to life. What was one more thing on her list? An art/writing collaboration between nadiapolyakova and anne_ammons - twelve photos and a piece of the story behind them. M, WIP

Cherry Mint by dirtymudblood: "He could smell her. Even multiple train cars away, he could smell her. Except, Draco didn’t know who she was. He ignored his natural instincts to pant like a dog and follow the scent to the omega in the beginning stages of heat. Instead he willed himself to rub his knuckles against the rough wood of the table in front of him." E, 27 Chapters, 58,081 Words

Dark Water and Dying Eyebrights by bexchan: One of them is desperately trying to remember their past while the other is forever trying to escape theirs. It's seven years after the war and Draco has managed to avoid almost everyone from Hogwarts, living a lonely life on a small island, far away from the wizarding community. But a familiar face in a cafe window capsizes his world into chaos. Dramione. EWE. Memory fic. M, WIP

Difficult by provocative envy: COMPLETE: "I should," I repeated. "But I don't want to." And then he smiled, and I was wrecked. HG/DM. M, 30 Chapters, 87,041 Words

Don't Look Back by Onyx_and_Elm: It’s the smell of it. Chemical. Bitter and sharp as a raw edge on metal. Just a hint of it as she passes him at breakfast — but enough to stop her dead, mid-step. There is Wolfsbane in his tea. E, WIP

Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time by monsterleadmehome: She scoffs. “If you must know, he ‘elected’ me because he thinks our shared animosity will keep you in check. He’s also not worried about you trying to shag me as a distraction.” He leans back, stubbing out his cigarette on the banister. His eyes rove over her from crown to toe and back. She lifts her chin and tries not to shiver. “Well, he’s right about that.” Lucius Malfoy hires Hermione Granger to whip his son into shape so he can find a pure-blood bride and receive his inheritance. What could go wrong? E, 10 Chapters, 48,092 Words

Draco's Gift by TriDogMom: Draco gives Hermione a gift because of an instructional YouTube video. M, 1 Chapter, 1,705 Words

Dragon in the Dark by GracefulLioness: The battle is won, Voldemort is dead, but the war is far from over. In the new Death Eater regime, Draco Malfoy does what he must to survive and keep his mother safe. Now a highly trained assassin, Draco has learned to think of his targets as inhuman beings, but when he is tasked with killing someone from his past, he can no longer hide from the horrors of the world around him. E, 31 Chapters, 164,782 Words

For a Present Under the Tree by grace_lou_freebush: When Draco and Hermione eloped, the Wizarding World turned against them. Hermione is stuck in a low level, low paying Ministry job with no hope of upward movement. Draco can't even convince someone to hire him. Now, it's Christmas, and Draco knows Hermione deserves the world - or at the least a Christmas gift. He finds the perfect hair comb to replace the horrid Muggle brush she's been making due with, and he'll do anything to afford the paltry present so he can have something to put under the Christmas tree for his wife. Making a beeline for the jewelry box containing the hair combs, Draco rifled through them, landing on an ivory comb with queen anne rose carvings and gold filigree detailing. He brought it to the startled shopkeeper and set it down gently. Pulling his sixth generation Malfoy heirloom pocket watch from his coat, he shoved it in the wizard's face without second guessing himself. "I would like to make an exchange." E, 1 Chapter, 10,141 Words

Fortuitous by MrsRen: Recently divorced Draco doesn't believe in the ideology of having one true love. He certainly doesn't expect to meet his match in a Halloween themed coffee shop, but fate has a peculiar way of giving you just what you need. M, 13 Chapters, 93,695 Words

Fuck, Marry, Avada by Lilian_Silver: Some years after the war, the gang meets up at the Leaky to play a silly game, with very real consequences. E, 1 Chapter, 3,106 Words

Give Me An Hour by RZZMG: As the war continues to rage on around them, Hermione Granger decides to seduce fellow Order Member, Draco Malfoy, one night while at Grimmauld Place... and everything between them changes after that. Fic follows the "five times" trope, and is dedicated to raspberryjukebox. One-shot. A/U-Extended War scenario. Dramione. Drama-Romance-Hot Shag! COMPLETE! M, 1 Chapter, 3,251 Words

Good Girl by arabellaleyes: Hermione is tired of their normal routine in the bedroom. What will happen when she asks Draco to spice things up? One-shot. Complete. M, 1 Chapter, 9,000 Words

Hindsight by floorcoaster: It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time to make some changes. T, 12 Chapters, 167,694 Words

How to Love Thy Neighbour by WhatSoMalfoy: After her relationship with Ron falls apart, Hermione attempts to juggle a personal muggle life with a professional wizarding one. After encountering her high school nemesis in the most unlikely place, Hermione adds another ball to the juggling mix. M, 14 Chapters, 41,992 Words

How to Move On by longdistance: It's been nearly a decade since the war. A long time since she locked herself away. A long time since he faced his mistakes. She's what he wants. He's what she needs. It's time for both of them to figure out how to move on. M, WIP

Hydrotherapy by eilonwy: Draco finds a trip to the showers after playing Quidditch... enlightening. E, 2 Chapters, 7,163 Words

I Choose You by melanoradrood: At the end of Fifth Year, Hermione finds out why It is that none have approached her with a Marital Contract, the only way she can remain in the Wizarding World after Graduation. It has already been signed by her Magical Guardian, someone she has never met - she is to be the next Lady Malfoy. A year and a half later, she is a married witch, but still, Draco Malfoy, who had chosen her above all others, had not spoken of it. In fact, they barely spoke at all. And when trouble heads their way, Hermione means to change that. Really, she means to change a lot of things. E, 5 Chapters, 24,527 Words

Isolation by Bex-chan: He can't leave the room. Her room. And it's all the Order's fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something's going to give. Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. "There," she spat. "Now your Blood's filthy too!" DM/HG. PostHBP. Now complete with epilogue. M, 49 Chapters, 284,050 Words

It Happened in Egypt by bionically: Wandless in Egypt: Draco's stranded in Egypt, but luckily, there's a Granger in sight. Now, if only he could be prevented from strangling her. Fun times abroad: It was supposed to be a leisurely solo trip down the Nile. Hermione didn't factor in one blond man from her past and all his drama. Then, of course, there's the fact that everyone's after him. Much hilarity ensues. Maybe. *** A rom-com adventure/mystery featuring two unwilling partners on the run from Lucius Malfoy, alien-hunters, Muggle police, and local wizards engaged in a civil war. T, WIP

Love and Other Misfortunes by senlinyu: Draco Malfoy is dying. He's part-Veela and needs his mate to survive. Post-war, Hermione Granger is a workaholic, up to her eyeballs in legal activism on behalf of Magical Beings, and hasn't yet noticed that Malfoy is the Magical Being who needs her most. “Because I don’t want to be saved by you just because you feel like you have to.” He was properly furious now. “I’m in love with you." Hermione stared at him. She knew but somehow hearing him say it made the air shimmer with magic. "I’m in love with you,” he said again, despairingly. “And that means I want you to be as happy as you possibly can. And you won’t be, not with me.” M, 23 Chapters, 98,584 Words 

Manacled by senlinyu: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.Now illustrated by Avendell. E, 77 Chapters, 370,473 Words

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22: To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man. E, WIP

Meet the Malfoys by raven_maiden: 4 Works, 21, 442 Words

of flavoured names and coloured sounds by Pink Panda (Ejacyeolation): "He doesn’t question it at first, the fact that sounds have colours and words have flavours. He grows up with it, grows up seeing powerful ruptures of colour when his mother plays the piano and softer, translucent bursts when the people around him speak. His father’s voice fills his vision with sombre oranges and lilacs while his mother’s is a pleasant mix of delicate greens, blues, and greys. The word father tastes like wet wood and the word mother tastes like the pumpkin juice the house-elves frequently serve him."In which Draco just wants to know what colour Hermione's moans would be. He also wants to know if her skin would taste as sweet as her surname or maybe as intoxicating as her given name. E, 2 Chapters, 10,351

Once Upon a Night by longdistance: One night will change everything. M, 17 Chapters, 57,444 Words

One and Done by PacificRimbaud: Hermione Granger has a career she loves, friends she can depend on, and a nice set of hand towels for her new flat. She's single and tired of tiresome men, but that doesn't stop her from wearing beautiful lingerie underneath her serious Ministry skirts. Or having pictures taken in naughty knickers. Just once. For herself. Draco Malfoy doesn't get upset at the sight of blood, which is good, because he sees a lot of it. What he doesn't see a lot of is Hermione Granger in her unmentionables. Usually. A series of meetings and mix-ups in which one cannot possibly mean done. E, 4 Chapters, 35,011 Words

Our shared silence by Vofastudum: She wakes up one morning and everyone is just gone, vanished like they never existed at all. Everyone but Him. And in this silent solitude, he's all she has. Hermione and Draco alone in empty castle. Mystery and a plot twist you didn't see coming! EDITED 10/2020 M, 17 Chapters, 40,149 Words

Pinned by bionically: Draco doesn't know what he's expecting when he follows Blaise down a dark alley, but it certainly isn't this. For a man with an addictive personality, this isn't going to turn out well. Assigned trope: Voyeurism *** Or, a chance encounter with a frizzy-haired witch from his misbegotten past in the last place anyone should have expected to see her sets Draco's disordered life on its ear. The path to redemption is truly paved with unexpected surprises. E, 20 Chapters, 110,886 Words

Really Sell It by RoseHarperMaxwell: Draco's having a rough eighth year, and Hermione's going to make it better for him. "Well, it’s clear what needs to happen.” She gripped his chin, tilting his head to make sure she hadn’t missed any injuries, before looking straight into his eyes. “You’re my boyfriend now.” *Featuring fake dating, exhibitionism, and sex-positive Hermione Granger. Submission for Farewell to Summer: The 31 Flavors of Smut Fest. E, 1 Chapters, 7,612 Words

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19: How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore? E, 51 Chapters, 312,315 Words

Remember Us As War (but call us forgiveness) by Anyaparadox: Following the devastation of the Battle of Hogwarts, The Wizarding Population Growth Act is put into effect. All witches and wizards will be matched with their most compatible partner. Failure to comply will not be tolerated. Survival is key. Hermione reminds herself of this. Survival. She can fix this, if only she can survive. The war has made this a task she is equipped for. Marrying Draco Malfoy will hardly be the worst thing she's ever endured. M, WIP

Ring A Ring O' Roses by Gallivant: Dark Magic, Dark Wizards and a mysterious and deadly Dark Flux, which, in the wrong hands, has the terrifying potential to mass-murder Muggles and Muggle-borns ... It’s been fourteen years since the end of the Second Wizarding War and the Wizarding World is settled, stable and seemingly safe… Hermione Weasley has it all: a loving family, a successful career - and happiness… of sorts. But a series of unexpected events is about to turn her life upside-down, threatening those she loves, fatally undermining the peace between worlds that has prevailed for centuries … changing life as she knows it, possibly forever. If working with Draco Malfoy was the last thing Hermione Weasley ever wanted, falling for your enemy was the least expected. A quest to thwart a magical weapon of mass destruction has devastating consequences. A race to save the world, becomes a race to save themselves… M, 65 Chapters, 527,141 Chapters

Set Fire to the Rain by HarleyQuinn1317: What happens when the one you're destined for is the last person you should ever be with... When the Ministry of Magic asks for volunteers for their Marriage Initiative, Hermione Granger must come to terms with the one terrible deed she committed during the Second Wizarding War. Can she find it in her heart to forgive herself and finally learn to let love in? E, WIP

Sex and Occlumency by Graendoll: Hermione didn't escape from the war unscathed, and when she finally decides on a solution to her problems she's left to explore it on her own. A chance encounter with Draco Malfoy sets her world on it's head and leads her down a path towards healing that she would never have anticipated. E, 18 Chapters, 65,079 Words

The Art of Seating Etiquette by inadaze22: Hermione believes that every problem has a solution, and that solution can be found in a book. That is, until Draco starts sitting to her right every Friday. She has no answers until help comes in the form of an unlikely source: Ron Weasley. E, 1 Chapter, 9,734 Words

The Auction by LovesBitca8: In the wake of the Dark Lord’s triumph over Harry Potter, the defeated must learn their new place. Hermione Granger, former Golden Girl, has been captured and reduced to human chattel. Sold to the highest bidder as the top prize at an auction of Order members and sympathizers, she is thrust into the rabid, waiting hands of the Death Eaters. But despite the horrors of Voldemort’s new world, help—and hope—seem to arise from the most unlikely of places. PART 3 of the RIGHTS AND WRONGS series. E, 41 Chapters, 325,702 Words

The Binding by Curly_Kay: “Okay, what we know so far.” Hermione listed, "One, our magic is drawing us together. Two, we can use each other’s wands. Three, there were actual sparks when you touched me."After an infant binding ritual magically joins Hermione and Draco to counteract the Black family blood curse, they must navigate the secret binding through their years together at Hogwarts. E, 35 Chapters, 175,451 Words

The Carnal Club by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE The Halloween Ball is fast approaching with Hermione at the helm.... What a delightful time to suddenly learn of a centuries old secret sex-game club that is currently ran by a Blonde haired Slytherin. Oh, and it only happens once a year every October, when the winner takes all at the Halloween Ball ...The First Rule of Carnal Club: You do not talk about Carnal Club. E, 8 Chapters, 43,306 Words

The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy by Speechwriter (batmansymbol): The night that Harry and Dumbledore return from the cave, the Death Eaters are delayed from reaching the top of the Astronomy Tower for one more minute. Draco Malfoy lowers his wand. A Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the Order of the Phoenix. T, WIP

The Erised Effect by Ada_P_Rix: Hermione and Pansy work in a shop together. Draco, Harry, Theo and Blaise all work together at the Ministry. They all meet up every Friday at the pub to have drinks. Pansy has a new fantasy potion that she likes to call 'The Erised Effect' that she's keen to try out on willing participants ... Boys are so easy to manipulate when alcohol is involved .... E, 13 Chapters, 88,852 Words

The Fallout by everythursday: Hermione learns about growing up through the redemption of Draco Malfoy. E, 49 Chapters, 310,229 Words

The Figures of Figuring Out by Vofastudum: You were the biggest riddle in my life. You were the one I couldn't figure out. You were the only thing I couldn't find a pattern to. You were something I couldn't look up from any book. Unwritten, with no instructions. And I was used to finding solutions! Post-war eight-year secret romance. Edited 12/2020 M, 13 Chapters, 26,951 Words

The Flat in Bath by Ada_P_Rix: Loosely inspired by 365 Days...-- Malfoy grabbed her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. “Don’t you dare, Granger...” He told her roughly as his intense gaze bored into her own. “I fucking forbid you to come until I’ve had enough of you...” Draco caught her cheeks now between the fingers of his free hand and then snapped her head to the side and licked her earlobe, trailing down to her jawline. “...one flutter of those delicious walls of yours and you’re going to wish you never opened your legs for me.” -- __________________ Hermione is kidnapped during a raid and taken captive by someone who doesn't plan on 'torturing' her in the conventional way... E, WIP

The Gloriana Set by ThebeMoon: The War is won, and Hermione Granger is back at Hogwarts as an “Eighth Year”, feeling reckless and determined to shed her prim bookworm persona. She will do as she pleases, and anyone who doesn’t like it will see the business end of her wand. Also returning is Draco Malfoy, universally hated but determined to restore his family’s name. Hermione’s hopes for a quiet school year are quickly dashed as she contends with mischievous First Years, killer plants, enchanted hair accessories, a totally inappropriate Moaning Myrtle, renegade Death Eaters, a nice vampire, a poorly named study group, a depraved party, and mysterious, threatening blood messages on the castle walls. We have redemption, partial redemption and (sadly or hilariously) no redemption at all. Throw in a snarky, disturbingly attractive Draco with his own secret agenda, and we have a very slow-burn Dramione with a side of who-dun-it. COMPLETE! M, 81 Chapters, 271,830 Words

The Library of Alexandria by senlinyu: The Library of Alexandria is not for just any witch or wizard. Many bookworms may try but few are permitted to pass through its doors. The books residing there are ancient and powerful and, if one happens to make a mistake, the consequences can be rather—novel. E, 6 Chapters, 26,383 Words

The List by AureliaBlack90: After her divorce, Hermione decides to get out of town to recover from the pain of her lost relationship and the miscarriage she suffered a year previously. She arrives in the Cotswolds depressed and aimless but compiles a list of things to do that she hopes will help her get back on her feet. In the midst of her journey to find healing she keeps running into Draco Malfoy, who is nothing like she remembered him. He invites her into his world, and Hermione finds exactly what she was looking for - in the place she least expected it. E, 10 Chapters, 70,526 Words

The Manuscript by alexandra_emerson: Five 1/2 years after the war, in the middle of a big fight with Draco, Hermione finds a manuscript. It’s a retelling of her and Draco’s love story, written by him. She never realized how much he was struggling before she read his words. Snippet: I could spend my whole life apologizing to you Hermione, and it would never be enough. Post-war, angst-filled Dramione with a happy ending. M, 21 Chapters, 154,918 Words

The Memory of You by PotionChemist: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger fell in love against all odds, but there was one big problem — he was already married. Pressured, Hermione does something she promised herself she would never do again and erases their affair from his memory. Completely devastated, she avoids seeing Draco or the Malfoys at all costs. But is their love too strong? Are they inevitable? What will happen if he finds out about their previous relationship? E, WIP

The Mountain and The Sea by AlexisDanaan: Hermione Granger was perfectly happy with her life, her job as a Healer Trainee, her ugly cat and her cute little house in the countryside. And then Draco Malfoy had to go and mess that all up, typical git. Post-Hogwarts, EWE, OOC, creature!fic. E, 12 Chapters, 40,441 Words

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae: The Ministry takes action against the remaining prejudice in the wizarding society and asks Hermione for help. “What do you want? Money? Power? Name your price, Granger. I’m not about to let pride get in my way when an Azkaban sentence is on the line.” M, 15 Chapters, 45,807 Words

The Phoenix Potion by FedonCiadale: Twenty years after the battle of Hogwarts.... Harry is head auror and is worried about cases where Muggleborn children meet with accidents, Ron is a famous Quidditch keeper. Both haven't talked to Hermione for ages and certainly not to her husband, Draco Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy struggles with a curse, and Neville and Luna try to stay friends with all. The key to solving the problems may lie in the past, a time nobody really wants to revisit and some can't. T, 111 Chapters, 237,745 Words

The Potioneers by omnenomnom: They need each other unfortunately. Hermione has tricked Draco under her tutelage, arrogant attitude and all. But she would be simple to think he would accept it quietly. They have both have secrets to hide, old wounds better left to fester, and a world full of mermaids, dragons, and magic to explore. T, 53 Chapters, 196,559 Words

The Pretense by Colubrina: Voldemort died, but the Death Eaters live on. Hermione Granger traded herself to Draco Malfoy in exchange for safe passage for core Order members. Now he's pretending to love her, Narcissa is pretending to believe that, and Hermione is walking a tightrope behind enemy lines as she figures out what is going on. Unfortunately, people fall off tightropes. (no non-con) T, 50 Chapters, 108,164 Words

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8: Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl. E, 36 Chapters, 174,911 Words

The Seven Year Witch by TheLastLynx: A boy and a girl have been meeting – coincidentally – for seven summers. While they pretty much hate one another most of the year, for those secret summer moments, they manage to see each other in a different light. But will that be enough to bring them together? A Dramione story about growing up and changing perspective, told along - and in-between - the lines of canon. M, WIP

Thirty Times Lucky by galfoy: "Granger, I can't hire you on any longer," Draco said. Hermione stared at him. Losing her job might actually mean losing the War, and she had to bargain, but there was literally nothing she had that he would want. Or was there? M, 2 Chapters, 7,128 Words

Traditions by raven_maiden: She straddled him slowly, still biting her lip, her hands on his shoulders. He held her hips tightly as he stared up at her. “So beautiful,” he whispered, and she flushed prettily, like she always did from his compliments. “You never need to hide from me.” ** Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy fell in love during the war. One year later, they're heading home for the holidays so he can finally meet her parents. There's just one teeny little problem: her parents think they're both Muggles. E, 14 Chapters, 68,767 Words

Waifs and Strays by Kyonomiko: War leaves a lot of orphans in its wake. Hermione is one, by her own hand, and she struggles with the realities of her situation. When she finds an orphaned familiar, it seems meant to be, giving and receiving comfort helping to heal her fractured heart. Unfortunately, the animal is actually a wizard, and he has his own issues. M, 31 Chapters, 118,152 Words

What You Think Is Right by icepower55: Six years after the war, Hermione parents are dying and her marriage to Draco is crumbling. Nothing seems logical in her life anymore. Her healer tells her to start writing about it, so she does, as a way to figure things out, and remind herself along the way. Hell is proximity without intimacy -Dante's Inferno M, WIP

When the Bell Tolls by everythursday: As a Dark revival begins to rise four years after the war, Hermione Granger is placed on the assignment of putting an end to them – and her first task is to recruit the Ministry's best hope and last option in the form of Draco Malfoy. E, 20 Chapters, 148,033 Words

Wreck by JMilz: Serving as Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger is finally at the peak of her career. With a beautiful family, a successful book, and the public on her side, her life should be a fairytale. Unfortunately, there is trouble in paradise, and when Draco Malfoy pays her a visit, she begins recalling their history and questioning her marriage. The reality is: every relationship is hard. M, 53 Chapters, 187,992 Words

Thanks to every person who contributed (I hope I've mentioned everyone. If not, let me know. 😊): @certified-arsehole @fedonciadale kiwim22 @really-sad-devil-guy endless-musings @headfullofnargles @pinksunsets-world @rosseliz01 @dramioneden @all-consuming @elricsister @injailoutsoon12 reclusivebird @mariakov81 @notthatchhavi @mordanbooqs @haaatch @hpsassenach @ybaeby @farmgirl-in @coyg-81 @eiramrelyat metterschling-plus-two @a-maidens-fantasy @sansacat @vofastudum @lexayeon @1800-rewrite @aneiria-writes @anonymouslydramione 

It took much longer to compile this list than I thought it would. Hopefully, I didn’t skip anything. 🙈

Happy New Year. May it be better than the previous one and full of great Dramione fics and fanarts! 🥳🥳🥳

And here’s the 2019 list: https://dramioneficrecommendations.tumblr.com/post/190216354767/what-is-the-best-dramione-fic-you-read-in-2019

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 15

delirium / fever dreams / bees

Also partly inspired by a fun fact prompt that I received AGES ago from @oatflatwhite who told me something frankly horrifying about ants. (I’m not responding directly to that ask because you deserve something nice so I’m gonna do something nice with the other prompt you sent <3)

***

Day One:

Everything hurts. But Buck knows this is the most energy and mental capacity that he’s going to have until this thing is over and he can’t afford to waste any time. Screaming as he does, Buck tries to pluck the stone and debris out of his right arm where he’s split wrist to elbow before slathering it in antibiotic ointment and wrapping it up in gauze. There’s no bone showing, but the cut is almost too deep for the Neosporin to be a good idea. Buck would prefer to wash it out with water except that he doesn’t have any.

Landing on his backpack probably saved his life, but Buck can’t help but be devastated that his hydration pack popped like a water balloon when he landed on it. He has a life straw and water purification tablets, but neither of those is of any use without a water source and the next one is six miles up the trail. A trail he’s not even on anymore, he reminds himself, looking up, up, up at the blue sky and the canyon rim that he tumbled from, hitting every ledge on the way down. 

Of course his phone is signal-less. He’d known it would be as soon as he got more than half a mile away from the Jeep. There’s a circled map on the front seat with his route and a matching one at home with Eddie and that might be comforting except that it’s going to be at least 36 hours before anyone notices that he’s not where he’s supposed to be. 

Buck tries not to think about that part.

Day Two:

It took some doing with only one good arm and one good leg (nothing broken, but his right elbow and his left leg from ankle to hip are bruised nearly black; the left ankle is already the size of a softball and Buck doesn’t dare take his boot off to inspect it), but Buck managed to make a lean-to with his striped blanket. He has one end of it secured on a rock with his backpack and the other end precariously pinned with his trekking poles to the canyon floor. Eddie gave him the hardest time about his plans to cowboy camp on this trip, but Buck doesn’t think he could have gotten a tent assembled anyway.  

Of course when he wakes up in the morning, the blanket is gone and he’s staring up at a ruthless sun that’s already started cooking his pale skin. Still half asleep, Buck leans on his right arm to push himself up and a scream rips through his dry throat as the pain burns like fire through all the nerves of his forearm. He tells himself he’s allowed to whimper all he wants as long as he doesn’t stop. He can bitch and moan and cry, but he has to find out where his blanket, his only protection from the desert sun, has blown away to and he has to bring it back.

He also has to force down the melted pack of peanut MMs from his backpack and the orange he was supposed to have for dessert last night. He has a bag of granola too, but it crumbles like sawdust in his dry mouth and while Buck knows it isn’t actually going to make him more dehydrated, he gives himself a pass on eating it for now. 

It’s only for today. Eddie won’t hesitate to pull the trigger on calling search and rescue when Buck doesn’t check in by three. Buck just has to hold on for today.

Day Three:

He feels, simultaneously, like the body in the Operation board game and the person holding the tweezers. Every movement Buck makes seems to provoke a loud, emphatic error response. Screaming instead of buzzing. When the sun went down last night, he screamed for what felt like an hour, yelling for help that was nowhere around and apparently not coming. What he got for planning a hike on a Tuesday. The last names in the trailhead book before his own had departed on Saturday and on such a little known trail, Buck didn’t expect any to follow him until Friday. 

Tomorrow? 

He doesn’t like that it takes him a minute to remember what day it is.

He doesn’t like the angry red lines radiating from the cut on his arm. Buck manages to change the gauze, but he doesn’t have enough left to do it again. The skin and exposed muscle beneath is obviously infected, but apart from another layer of the useless Neosporin, there’s nothing he can do. 

After he loses the feeling in his left toes, he kicks his boots off to find that the swelling is as bad as he’d feared. No longer sure that it’s not broken, Buck doesn’t dare to put any weight on it at all and he hobbles around his right, leaning hard on one of the trekking poles, as he chases down the blanket again.

When he makes it back to his rock, panting, dizzy, and not sweating nearly as much as he’d like, Buck gives up on the idea of a shelter and just wraps the blanket around his sunburned shoulders. 

Day 4: 

He’s such a fucking moron. He’s wasted all of this time and he should have tried to climb out of the canyon when he had a chance instead of sitting around waiting. “Hug a tree” was advice for toddlers like “don’t talk to strangers.” Adults were supposed to rescue themselves. Buck should have been able to rescue himself. 

As the sun rises, he paces along the canyon wall, looking for any sign of footholds or paths. He screams until it feels like his throat is bleeding and his racing heart pounds in his head. When he tries to swallow the granola, it comes back up in a mushed mass of oat and stomach acid. His piss is burnt orange and he tries and fails to catch it in his hands anyway, desperate for a drink. Fucking Bear Grylls would have climbed out of the canyon. 

He has the blanket with him and he pulls it over his head to protect his shoulders and the back of his neck, but the sun sneaks in anyway. Blisters pop up on Buck’s collarbone and on his forehead and when he sits down to cry, his eyes are too dry for tears. He can’t stand up afterward and he crawls on his hands and knees back to his rock.

The battery on his phone is dying so even though Buck is sure is going to live--he has to live-- he drafts a few text messages. To Maddie. To Eddie.  I love you I love you I love you I love you. I’m trying so hard. I love you I love you I love you.

Day ???:

Eddie had been worried about the mountain lions. Buck laughed at him as he rolled up his sleeping pad, telling Eddie that a tent wasn’t the protection against a mountain lion that he thought it was. Buck’s main concern right now are the ants. They seem like they’re swarming everywhere. Big golden ants with mandibles like the jaws of life. They didn’t have ants like that in Pennsylvania. 

Buck brushes at them furiously as they crawl all over his arms and legs. They don’t bite but the incessant march of their feet itches. Buck claws at the gauze on his arm, scratching and scratching and the previously white cotton is stained with blood and dirt and it’s on fire. When he pulls at the bandage, something gummy holds tightly to it and Buck decides to leave it alone if only to keep the ants out of it. 

Some of them look as big as scorpions. Eddie had been worried about scorpions too. Eddie worries a lot. He wanted Buck to bring an inReach but they’re expensive and by the time he brought it up, Buck didn’t have a chance to order one anyway. 

You should have listened to me, Eddie says, leaning against the rock as Buck lays beneath it. 

“I know,” Buck answers. “I’m sorry.” 

Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just scared, Buck. I don’t know where you are.

“I don’t know where I am either.” That’s a new thought and it’s scary. Buck is next to the rock and he’s in a red canyon under a burning sun and there are ants crawling all over him and he doesn’t remember how he got there. 

I’m looking for you.

A dry sob echoes in the canyon.

You’re holding on for me, right? Stay in the shade. Wear your blanket.

“It’s hot.” Too hot. His skin is burning from the inside and the outside and every part of it is red and warm and itchy and Buck’s not sweating anymore. An ant bites his arm and he smacks it hard, forgetting about the wound beneath. He wonders if the ants are crawling there on purpose.

People used to use ants as stitches. They’d let them bite right into the edges of the wound and then pull their bodies away. Buck doesn’t know why the ants held on after they died. He doesn’t know who thought to try that and why bandages weren’t enough. He imagines what it would feel like. The hundreds of ants he’d need in his arm. Inside for the muscle and outside for the skin. Imagines their mandibles sinking into him. Imagines the pain of it. Imagines what would happen if one of the inside ants wasn’t decapitated properly and it was let loose and crawling inside his arm and it carved deep tunnels in there and laid eggs.

“Don’t let them put ants in my arm, Eddie.” 

I won’t, Buck.

“Don’t let them do it. I don’t want them to bite me, Eddie. Eddie.” 

What if they’re in there already? Buck starts unraveling the gauze ignoring the howl of pain up his arm and the black spots dancing in front of his eyes as he forces himself to sit up. The gauze rips away from his skin and the wound below is white and yellow with pus and there aren’t any ants in the world big enough to close the cut. 

The gauze is a tangled mess and he can’t put it back on so Buck wraps his arm in the blanket and squeezes tight to keep the ants out. He can’t hear Eddie anymore. He can just hear the ants. Marching. Marching. They’re climbing down the canyon walls. They’re coming for him. Buck shivers and shakes and waits for them. He has to survive. He has to. He has to. 

[jamespotterthefirst]

Admission

Open Heart, Book 1, Chapter 13 Retold through social media posts and messages All posts here

Warning: Language and implications of adult activities

_____________________________________________________ Posted at 5:59 PM

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Sent at 6:35 PM Nurses’ group chat named “Tea Spill”

_____________________________________________________ Sent at 6:40 PM EMT group chat named “10-04”

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Received at 7:03 PM From: Rafael Aveiro To: Lilac Allende

_____________________________________________________ Received at 7:46 PM From: Ethan Ramsey To: Lilac Allende

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Received at 7:57 PM

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Voice call from Ethan Ramsey to Lilac Allende at 7:57 PM Duration: 8 minutes

Lilac: Hey. Ethan: Hey. [Long silence] Lilac:... Ethan? Is everything alright? Ethan: I wanted to apologize to you…. For slamming that door in your face. With the news about Naveen… [silence] Ethan: It wasn't my most gallant moment. After you left, I realized you had also received terrible news of your own. You needed me and I wasn't there for you. For that, I'm truly sorry, Lilac. Lilac: Ethan, I don't blame you for being in that state of mind, but thank you for the apology. [Distant chatting and laughing] Bryce: [in the background] The Haupia has arrived! Sienna: Yum! I've always wanted to try it! Jackie: That's store bought and you know it, scalpel jockey. Ethan: Busy? Lilac: No, just my roommates getting dinner ready. [Chatter grows distant. A door closes] Lilac: I'm all yours. [Long silence on Ethan's end] Lilac: Ethan? Ethan: I'm here. You should go be with your friends. Lilac: It's fine. They'll understand— Ethan: I insist, Lilac. I'll be fine. I promise. Lilac: Liar. Ethan: [chuckling] Fine. But I still insist you go and have a good time. Lilac: Can I check on you later? Ethan: You don't have to. Lilac: I want to. And I'll try my best to help you take your mind off everything. Ethan: That sounds… ominous. Lilac: [laughing] You'll have to find out. Ethan: I'm sure I will. Lilac: Bye, Ethan. Ethan: Bye, Rookie.

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Posted at 8:36 PM

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Received at 9:16 PM From: Naveen Banerji To: Ethan Ramsey

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Received at 9:32 PM From: Zaid Mirani To: Ines Delarosa

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Sent at 11:38 PM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey

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Sent at 12:22 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey

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Received at 1:31 AM From: Ethan Ramsey To: Lilac Allende

_____________________________________________________ Received at 1:49 AM From: Ethan Ramsey To: Lilac Allende

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Received at 1:58 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey Duration: 36 minutes

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Received at 2:34 AM From: Lilac Allende To:  Ethan Ramsey

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Received at 2:21 AM From: Ethan Ramsey To: Lilac Allende Duration: 1 hour, 23 minutes

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Received at 3:44 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey

_____________________________________________________ Posted at 5:45 AM

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Interview recorded for official purposes Present: Harper Emery, Elijah Green Time: 8:45 AM

H. Emery: Thank you for seeing me today Dr. Greene. Please come in. I trust you know why I called you into my office today?

E. Greene: If this is about the lunch thief that's been striking for the last few days, then I'm glad it's finally getting addressed.

H. Emery: Lunch...thief?

E. Greene: Someone's been stealing people's lunches from the lounge. It's getting ridiculous.

H. Emery: I… No, Dr. Greene, that particular incident is not why I called this meeting. Although, I will inform the Senior Resident about the issue. I called you today because I want more information on Dr. Lilac Allende.

E. Greene: What about Lilac?

H. Emery: I understand you two are friends?

E. Greene: Yeah, she's a good friend.

H. Emery: Dr. Greene, I'll get straight to the point. I am conducting an investigation to determine Dr. Allende's involvement in the death of Teresa Martinez. Do you know anything about that?

E. Greene: Sorry, Chief Emery. I'd say I know even less about what happened to Mrs. M than you do.

H. Emery: Hmmm. Do you recall the day Mr. Declan Nash visited Edenbrook for a meeting with me?

E. Greene: Yes, ma'am.

H. Emery: You came to me claiming that Dr. Mirani needed immediate help with a VIP patient. But when we got there, there was no Dr. Mirani and no problem. Why did Lilac Allende ask you to get me away from Declan Nash?

E. Greene: Lilac? She had nothing to do with it, I got the idea to rescue you all on my own!

H. Emery: Rescue me?

E. Greene: Dude seemed like a creep. I thought you could use a break.

H. Emery: (Stunned silence) Thank you, Dr. Greene. That was incredibly thoughtful if a bit unorthodox.

H. Emery: However, I ask you to refrain from intervening during any of my future meetings, no matter how distressed you believe me to be.

E. Greene: Loud and clear, Dr. Emery.

H. Emery: What else can you tell me about Dr. Allende?

E. Greene: Lilac's a cool roommate. Living with her is fun when she gets all my pop culture references. Even if she does believe Mean Girls was the best movie ever made and quotes it constantly. She used to live in LA and has all kinds of crazy stories. Do you want to hear about the time she met Samuel L. Jackson?

H. Emery: … No, thank you, Dr. Greene. I think I've heard enough. [End of recording] _____________________________________________________

Sent at 9:01 AM From: Eduardo Ortiz To: Veronica Ortiz

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 9:10 AM Residents’ group chat named “Boston Tea Party”

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 9:16 AM ICU Nurses’ group chat named “kiss our assessment”

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 9:17 AM Interns’ group chat named “Bop to the Top”

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 9:20 AM EMT group chat named “10-04”

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 9: 23 AM Surgeons’ group chat named “Cutting Edge”

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 9:25 AM From: Harper Emery To: Ethan Ramsey Status: Unread

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 9:25 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey Status: read, unanswered

  _____________________________________________________

Interview recorded for official purposes Present: Harper Emery, Jackie Varma Time: 10:05 AM

H. Emery: Dr. Varma, thank you for joining me. Do you know why I called you in today?

J. Varma: No idea.

H. Emery: I know you're busy with your caseload so I'll cut to the chase. What is your relationship with Dr. Allende?

J. Varma: We share a bathroom and an internet plan.

H. Emery: You're not friends?

J. Varma: Dr. Emery, I applied here to learn to be the best doctor, not to compete for Edenbrook's Friendship Awards.

H. Emery: I see. So there's nothing else you could tell me about Dr. Allende?

J. Varma: To be honest, she's indistinguishable from my other roommates. They're all distracting loud noise through the wall of my room as I'm trying to study up for my patients. The few times I saw her outside the apartment were a few rounds at Donahue's across the street, when we are all new and in that honeymoon phase. But unless you want to know her drink order, I have nothing.

H. Emery: That won't be necessary.

J. Varma: Is there anything else, Chief Emery?

H. Emery: I suppose not. You may return to your duties. _____________________________________________________

Interview recorded for official purposes Present: Harper Emery, Sienna Trinh Time: 10:25 AM

H. Emery: Good afternoon, Dr. Trinh. Thank you for meeting with me. Please have a seat.

S. Trinh: The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Emery. What can I do for you?

H. Emery: I'd like to talk to you about one of your fellow interns today. People tell me you are close to Lilac Allende.

S. Trinh: We're both dolphins not sharks, so we got along right away.

H. Emery: You're both… what?

S. Trinh: Neither of us are interested in screwing over other interns to get ahead. Lilac's a very moral person.

H. Emery: And how do those morals apply to Dr. Allende's patients?

S. Trinh: She definitely wouldn't screw over a patient either.

H. Emery: Can you say that with absolute certainty?

S. Trinh:  Cross my heart and hope to die. I've seen how kind Lilac is in all aspects of her life. But she is the most passionate when it comes to her family, friends, and patients. Lilac has a good heart.

H. Emery: Noted. Thank you, Dr. Trinh. Anything else you'd like to add?

S. Trinh: Yes. I hope you don't mind me asking but… where did you get those earrings? They're gorgeous!

H. Emery: Oh. They were a gift from my mother.

S. Trinh: They're stunning. You look great in them!

H. Emery: Thank you, Dr. Trinh, that's very sweet.

_____________________________________________________

Interview recorded for official purposes Present: Harper Emery, Landry Olsen Time: 10:50 AM

H. Emery: Please come in Dr. Olsen. Take a seat.

H. Emery: Before we begin, it is my duty to let you know our conversation is being recorded for HR and any other parties who might request it in the future.

L.Olsen: ... O-other parties? Like the authorities?

H. Emery: Possibly. Depending on the findings of the investigation. Are you alright, Dr. Olsen?

L.Olsen: I— Shouldn't I have an attorney present, then?

H. Emery: There's no need to lawyer up for this, Dr. Olsen. I only have a few questions about an intern you're in close contact with. Shall we get started?

L.Olsen: Sure.

H. Emery: Dr. Olsen, what is your relationship with Dr. Allende?

L.Olsen: We're roommates.

H. Emery: You're not friends?

L.Olsen: No.

H. Emery:  …

L.Olsen: I mean, y-yes. You could say that.

H. Emery: Can you tell me more about Dr. Allende?

L.Olsen: I've rarely seen her these past few weeks. Been studying up for our fellowship competition.

H. Emery: The one Dr. Ramsey used to be in charge of before he quit?

L.Olsen: (long, stunned silence) Dr. Ramsey quit?

H. Emery: That's right. Just a few hours ago.

L.Olsen: Does that mean the diagnostics team—

H. Emery:  —will probably be disbanded, yes. Unless Dr. Mirani or Dr. Hirata wish to continue the competition for two spots. Knowing one of them, she will refuse.

L.Olsen: (more silence)

H. Emery: Dr. Olsen, are you certain you're alright?

L.Olsen: Y-yeah.

H. Emery: Given that you live with her, do you know of any involvement she may have had with the death of Teresa Martinez?

L.Olsen: I've already given all the information I have, Dr. Emery.

H. Emery: Very well. Thank you for meeting with me today.

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 11:13 AM

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 3:23 PM Interns’ group chat named “Bop to the Top”

_____________________________________________________

Received at 6:16 PM From: Alan Ramsey To: Ethan Ramsey

_____________________________________________________ Received at 11:10 AM Group chat named “who tf is Martha” Members: Lilac Allende, Sienna Trinh, Elijah Greene, Jackie Varma, Landry Olsen

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 9:00 AM

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 11:58 AM

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 1:14 PM

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 1:39 PM

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 4:49 PM

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 4:55 PM

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 6:16 PM

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 6:30 PM

_____________________________________________________

Posted at the following day at 10:13 AM

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 10:39 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Bryce Lahela

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 12:03 PM

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 12:41 PM From: Bryce Lahela To: Lilac Allende

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 3:56 PM

_____________________________________________________

Published at 5:00 PM

_____________________________________________________

Received at 5:43 PM Nurses’ group chat named “tea spill”

_____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Thank you if you read this monster.

A few notes:

A HUGE thank you to everyone who read, liked, and/or commented on the last chapter of this. I just realized I never replied. Forgive me. My brain is all over the place these days. I’m trying to be better. I am appreciative forever and ever for all the support you guys have shown me.

  The same goes for “Burgundy”. I will absolutely reply to everyone but I realize it’s been a while. I don’t want people to think I’m being rude and ignoring their lovely words of support. Anyway, I ramble.

 Regarding this chapter, I decided to add that Ethan x MC steamy texts scene because I was feeling self-indulgent lol. But also because I figured he knew he was leaving Edenbrook the next day after he told Naveen.

  MC didn’t sleep with Bryce in the on-call room (even though she does in the actual game for me lol. Couldn’t have her do it after that phone scene with Ethan)

Sorry for any mistakes or typos. Tumblr will not let me edit a massive post full of code like this. It will let me make all the changes and then not save them. Sigh. I expect nothing from this site and I am still let down.

Thank you so much, as always! Everyone has been so lovely to this series and it means the world!

Much love, Bree ____________________________________

*tagging separately because this post is ready to burst with code

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details, Part One

CW: Death talk, BBU, dehumanizing language about Box Boys

A Box Boy Serial Killer On the Loose? Part 1 of 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee 1 month ago

Hello, r/LetsTalkTrueCrime! 

I’ve posted this write-up in a couple other reddits, but someone pointed me to this one as being a good place for discussion, and this is a really weird set of three unsolved murders (well, one death and two murders? Maybe?) and I wanted to see if any of you have some thoughts or maybe more info on these cases.

Three men died within two years in three different cities. 

While each death is unique, all of them have one thing in common - fingerprints and DNA from a single human pet was found in every single location. 

Let’s start with the first death.

Nathaniel Matthew Benson, who went by “Nanda” (a childhood nickname given to him by a younger brother who couldn’t pronounce his full name as a toddler, apparently), was forty-one years old at the time of his death. 

He was born and raised in North Dakota by very strict religious parents, and had three younger brothers and one younger sister. There is some disagreement here about whether his home life was peaceful or not. His younger sister claims that the environment at home was strict but fair, and the family was mostly happy. Two of his three younger brothers tell a different story, about a father who put too much on their shoulders, especially “Nanda” as the eldest, and the pressure they felt to be perfect.

His other brother, the youngest of the family, has never given a public interview beyond a short statement that he and Nanda were not close, and he did not feel able to speak about his character. There were nearly fifteen years between the oldest and youngest childrens’ births, and Nathaniel had moved out of the house by the time the youngest was four years old, so this makes sense.

By all accounts, Nathaniel was an excellent student, getting all A’s throughout his years of education. He was considered quiet and shy, and most of his high school classmates don’t have many standout memories of him. He graduated valedictorian of his high school class, then surprised everyone by stating he wouldn’t be attending college, and instead would be taking a “gap year” to travel the United States using money from his graduation party and also some he’d saved up from working part-time retail and restaurant jobs.

Between ages 18 and 19, he took his small secondhand four-door vehicle around the nation, calling home every week or so to give his family updates, sending postcards, etc. After about six months, though, the phone calls and postcards became fewer and fewer, and eventually he told everyone he had gotten a new job and decided to forgo college entirely.

His family was shocked - and by all accounts his father was furious - but Nathaniel refused to budge. 

There was apparently a very hostile phone conversation about one year after this decision which was the last time Nathaniel Benson spoke to his father directly until his death.

After this, his family received only sporadic communications sent from a P.O. Box located in central California, in a mid-sized city known as Dosaba. He never did give anyone an actual home address.

He occasionally called them, mostly his sister and one of his brothers, but surviving family states that the phone number he called from was different every single time, and usually didn’t have a California area code.

“He used burner phones for everything,” Nathaniel’s sister Samantha told WNDR, a local news station, shortly after his mysterious death. “And he would never tell us what job he did. We asked and asked and Nanda would just say ‘oh, this and that’, or ‘I do contractor work’. Just answers that don’t tell you anything. It was all very mysterious, very secretive. You know, we talked about how maybe he’d gotten into drugs or something, but my brother wasn’t a drug user, ever. It just seems so out of character for the brother I knew.”

“He was always reading his Bible when we knew him,” Younger brother Timothy stated. “But you know, I asked him once if he had found a home church wherever he was living, and he laughed and laughed. Then he just said, ‘they’d have a lot of opinions on how I live my life if I did that’, and changed the subject. So I knew whatever he was doing, it probably wasn’t good.”

There has been a lot of speculation by investigators that “Nanda” had indeed picked up employment within some kind of drug smuggling group at this time. Evidence found after his death has even opened the possibility that he worked as a high-end hitman.

There’s a lot of international travel during this time period, far more than can be accounted for unless travel was part of his workplace responsibilities. Employment records show him working as a sales manager for a company called Sunrise Investments, but this is believed by many to be a shell corporation hiding something much, much darker. 

However, all of this remains speculative, and there’s never been any proof that Nathaniel Benson did anything but the financial sales the company claims. No one ever did much work with him, and other employees at the company stated contact with him occurred entirely by phone and fax (and then e-mail) at this time. 

When investigators pored over the documents after getting a warrant, they weren’t able to find anything suspicious - and that in and of itself seems suspicious to some.

For years, Benson seemed to simply drop off the map entirely when it comes to local information - investigators did find that he owned a vintage Corvette that he fixed up himself (found via vehicle registry and taxes listings, which is public knowledge), and that about two years before his death he bought a large five-bedroom house with a basement in Dosaba, which he renovated in total secrecy. I was able to find records of him paying home taxes through his mortgage company, and that he spoke to local contractors and building companies, paying for consultations about the renovations he undertook. 

None of the companies he spoke to kept any kind of detailed notes about these consultations, but you’ll see why it’s relevant when I discuss what was found after his death.

Nathaniel Benson’s life came to an abrupt end on August 16th, 20XX, but nobody would find his body for more than two days. 

On August 18th, his cleaning lady arrived for her usual weekly visit to discover him crumpled at the foot of the stairs, face-up. She called 911 immediately and first responders arrived within twenty minutes to her white-faced and nearly silent. 

First responders noted that Nathaniel’s eyes were closed, unusual for a violent death. A wet cloth had been laid over them to help them stay that way. The medical examiner stated later that this would have to have been done within the first hour after he died, before rigor mortis could stiffen muscles and lead to them opening again. 

That whoever witnessed his death knew to do this is deeply unusual, and may be a sign of affection or grief. 

The autopsy found that Nathaniel had met his end approximately 36 hours before he was found, and had died due to an undiagnosed heart defect that had resulted in cardiac arrest. 

Sounds like any sudden death that can simply be written off as sad but natural, right? Well, there’s a few details that make things a little murkier than that, and have led to his death being listed as “undetermined” officially, and possibly including foul play.

For one thing, Nathaniel hadn’t simply collapsed next to the stairs - he had fallen, or been pushed, and showed evidence of bone fractures and head trauma consistent with the fall. A bit of blood was found on one step that came from his injuries. This head trauma would likely not have been fatal if he had received medical attention, but cardiac arrest ensured death even if head trauma didn’t. 

Did Nathaniel Benson suffer a heart attack and fall down the stairs, dying only when he reached the bottom? Maybe. 

Or maybe he really was pushed, the shock of it is the reason he went into cardiac arrest. 

There’s one more unusual fact that makes foul play a possibility in this mysterious death. 

Nathaniel Benson owned a legally purchased Box Boy, no known legal name, who went by his original purchase number: 334235. The Box Boy was a Romantic designation, and was purchased from Facility 001 in Berras, a city in Southern California, where the WRU headquarters is located.

WRU, when contacted by investigators, easily agreed to meet and provide detectives with information regarding the Box Boy’s purchase, as well as the DNA and fingerprint samples the company keeps on file. 

According to WRU’s internal records, this Boxie was not only a designated Romantic, but a specialty Romantic, trained for ‘masochism’. This tracks with multiple books on, shall we say, somewhat salacious interests that Benson had for his love life.

As Benson never seemed to date anyone or maintain a relationship, it’s theorized that the Boxie was his way of dealing with the stress of his work. WRU noted that Benson had contacted them after the purchase was complete to give his compliments on the Boxie’s training and note that he was ‘perfect’ and they ‘got along just fine’. 

The Box Boy’s fingerprints were found all over the house, which is totally normal. He was living there full-time, after all. But investigators also located something a bit more unusual: a secret room within the home that the cleaning lady had never seen before, hidden behind a carefully camouflaged door.

This is what Benson had been working on when he ‘renovated’ his newly purchased home: He built a secret dungeon room with stone walls and a concrete floor, outfitted with a dip and a “drain”, plus a garden hose hooked up on one wall. 

The room also had rows upon rows of cabinets full of various tools consistent with a ‘hard BDSM lifestyle’, according to one detective. I wasn’t able to get ahold of the actual list of items found, but was able to determine that whips, knives, ‘unspecified implements purchased from adult stores’, and other things were found.

Tests done on the walls and floor showed that blood had been spilled nearly everywhere in the room at one time or another, and large amounts of it. There was also evidence of blood found in Nathaniel Benson’s bedroom, primarily on the floor and in the bed. A small faded stain was found on the headboard just below a set of cuffs hooked into it.

A few small dried bloodstains were also found around the master bathroom sink, and investigators were able to determine the blood matched the DNA of the Box Boy, and was left there much more recently than the rest of the blood in the house, possibly even on the day of Benson’s death. 

Here’s the thing, though: the Box Boy himself was nowhere to be found. 

Was this Box Boy tired of being used as a human pincushion? Did he take matters into his own hands and commit the ultimate crime a pet can do, killing his owner? If he did, he no doubt knew what happens to pets who kill their owners, usually either being ‘put down’ or wiped clean to be resold.

Is our Boxie a killer right from the start? Or was he only a witness to a natural death who panicked and ran away?

Without locating the Boxie himself, it’s impossible to know.

The cleaning lady remembered him, and gave a description: Somewhere between 5’8” and 5’11”, wiry but with some muscle, usually dressed in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt when she was in the house. He has short dark hair, brown eyes, and an angular face. She mentioned visible scars on his arms, but none on his face. She was told to call him only “pet” if she needed to speak to him. She stated his voice was slightly hoarse and rough, as if he had a sore throat all the time. 

They had only one significant interaction, where the cleaning lady inquired about a large bruise on the Boxie’s face and bandages on his arms. He apparently told her, at the time, that he ‘liked the reminer’, but thanked her for asking after his health. They never spoke directly again. 

The detail about his face being unscarred will become incredibly relevant in parts 2 and 3.

Neighbors, when asked, mentioned that they had seen someone matching that description walking away from the house somewhere around 4 and 5 pm on August 16th. The medical examiner believes Benson died around noon, so this leaves about four or five hours between the death and the Boxie leaving.

He appeared to be walking very quickly and one neighbor noticed he was holding what looked like crumpled cash in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in another.

He was spotted waiting at a nearby bus stop, and footage from a camera mounted inside the bus shows someone matching the Box Boy’s description riding the bus all the way into Dosaba’s historic, artsy downtown. There, he was again captured on CCTV purchasing a one-way train ticket with cash. The train station employee who sold him the ticket remembers offering him a round-trip ticket for a discount, which she always did anyone who asked for a ticket to another city, only to have him “nervously” say he wouldn’t need to come back. She mentioned that he scratched at the side of his neck, and that when he walked away, he looked like his shoes were a little too big for his feet.

It is believed, as Nathaniel Benson was found barefoot but wearing clothing that suggested he had been outside doing yard work just before his death, that the Box Boy stole his shoes.

The fleeing Box Boy is captured one more time on camera as he arrived at his destination, Red Hills, approximately a two-hour train ride to the south. He walks past the CCTV quickly, hunched over as if trying to hide his face.

After that, he disappears.

Red Hills is a significantly larger city than Dosaba, with nearly a million residents within city limits and another 600,000 filling its suburbs and outer neighborhoods. Red Hills is a city that has seen better days, and it would be easy for a runaway Box Boy to simply fade away into its seedier districts. While Red Hills has had more than a dozen runaway Boxies picked up over the years, mostly Romantics who engaged in prostitution to make ends meet, it’s not believed that Benson’s Box Boy knew this when he chose the location.

As Romantic Boxies usually can’t read, it’s believed he simply chose a location he’d overheard someone else say, knowing nothing about what he would find when he got there.

Two days after his death, Nathaniel Benson’s debit and credit cards, Driver’s License, and a folded-up note he had written to himself about buying toothpaste were found in a plastic shopping bag tied-off at the top, were found inside the bus the Boxie had ridden, stuffed between the edge of a seat and the wall. The Boxie’s fingerprints were on everything.

But the Boxie himself wouldn’t be seen again until more than a year later.

Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson’s death for a time remained a one-off unsolved mystery. A little on the unusual side, but entirely possible that no foul play occurred, just some details that need filling in.

The shocking murder of a Red Hills man known locally as “Brute” would bring this Box Boy back into law enforcement’s line of sight, and open up questions about whether the Box Boy had simply been running away from Nathaniel Benson’s death… or leaving to find a new victim.

I’ll post Part 2, about “Brute”, shortly! Then Part 3 will be about a third murder, in which our potential Box Boy serial killer takes out… another serial killer. 

I told you this one gets interesting.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary

[shutupanddance]

Master Post

If you’re looking for my Master List, check out this link:

https://shutupanddance.tumblr.com/masterlist

Okay cool cats and kittens, I’m creating this master post to help you navigate my page and stay updated :) It will be pinned to my blog, and it will have my fandom list, my prompt list, my to-do list, any current events, and a few frequently asked questions. So, looking for information about requesting? Suggestions for requests? Or wondering what I’m currently working on? Don’t know if I’ve received your request? This is the place to look! Just keep on reading <3

Current Events 

None!

Fandoms

Here are the fandoms I write for!!

+ Marvel (MCU)

+ DC (DCU)

+ Sherlock

+ Star Wars (trilogies, Clone Wars, Rebels, Mandalorian)

+ Star Trek (reboots, original series)*

+ Pacific Rim

+ Knives Out

+ Night at the Museum

+ LOTR / The Hobbit

+ Jurassic Park/World

+ The West Wing*

+ NCIS*

*fandoms that you will see the most of on my blog.

Prompt List

(Does not include prompts from any current events) Here are some prompts that you can use for your request, or for your own writing! As a reminder, not all of these prompts are properly credited. Please let me know if you have the original creator’s @!

#1: “I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”

#2: “Should I ask why you have a knife in your purse?”

”It’s a dagger, actually, and no you shouldn’t.”

#3: “Close your eyes and listen. And trust me.”

#4: Rosemary, broken glass, and an old gun.

#5: “Do you remember when I loved you?”

”No.”

”Good, because I never did.”

#6: “He saw the notice in the paper.”

”Why would you let him see the paper?”

”What was I supposed to do, eat it?”

#7: “I didn’t catch your name!”

”I didn’t throw it.”

#8: “I’m not better than you, but at least I’m not you. And right now, that’s worth a whole lot.”

#9: Romantic dinner, but something is wrong.

#10: Forehead kisses during an apocalypse

#11: “This isn’t BBC Sherlock! You can’t just run around administering justice as you see fit!

#12: Trying to get a smoke detector to shut up

#13: Falling out of a closet during Hide N Seek

#14: Revealing a dark secret, but it turns out that they already know

#15: Once upon a midnight dreary

#16: The odds were never in our favor

#17: If I should die, think only this of me

#18: Attack hugs

#19: Afraid of ladybugs

#20: The dumb*ss God couldn’t stop

#21: “There’s a rumor going around that you’re the one to ask if someone needs to acquire rare and dangerous objects.”

”There’s a rumor going around that you’re an undercover cop.”

#22: A parking lot, a coroner, and snails

#23: “You’re the only person I know who calls me that.”

#24: This is not a drill.

#25: It’s the price we pay to feel

#26: A character is cleaning/sweeping the floor when someone walks by with dirty shoes (via @writingprompts365 )

#27: “I’m back from my mission!”

““You failed it.”

““How’d you know?”

They point at the TV.

#28: A character is pushed into some bushes/plants/flowers (via @writingprompts365 )

#29: A character picks up a very shiny rock (same @)

#30: A character combs another character’s hair (same)

#31: A character is forced to have a conversation with someone they don’t like (same)

#32: Laughing hysterically at their own joke

#33: Stuck under the same umbrella

#34: ““Well, this is a nice change of scenery!”

““It’s a jail cell.”

““I was being sarcastic.”

#35: ““Let me just be perfectly clear that this was not my fault.”

#36: ““Can I buy you coffee? For old times sake?”

#37: Fake dating

#38: Huddling for warmth

#39: Being high on painkillers and confessing undying love to everyone

#40: “That’s starting to get annoying.”

#41: “I fell asleep on the bus and woke up here.”

#42: “It’s freaking cold.”

#43: “You’re not exactly known for your great ideas.”

#44: ““Can you keep a secret?”

#45: Character A lives above character B, and always drives B insane with how much stomping they do. One day, A’s foot goes right through the floor, into B’s apartment.

#45: Character A and Character B, sworn enemies, are chosen to prepare the company Christmas Party.

#46: you’re a security guard at an art gallery and you held the door for me so I left you a note in the door where we met I hope you read it

#47: Person A and Person B both trying to break into the same place on the same night by accident, only to be chased by the police upon meeting and having to hide in a closet/cupboard/safe together until they leave.

#48: the first and the last word they said to each other

#49: your kid hates my kid

#50: ‘picking them up’ hugs

#51: an incredibly loud and painful high-five

#52: "Let me fix that for you."

#53: “Can’t we listen to something else? We’ve been listening to this CD for three hours now.”

“You know, I would but the CD slot is broken so it’s either this or talk to each other.”

“I wouldn’t mind talking.”

“[turns up the music louder]”

#54: "My kiss quota for the day hasn't been filled. I need a thousand more."

#55: Person A making fun of Person B's bed head

#56: Squeeze three times for “I love you”

#57: writing a love letter but keeping it to themselves

#58: Messing around in IKEA

#59: “Hey - what’re you hiding behind your back?”

#60: going to a bookshop and selecting books for each other

#61: smiling at each other from across the room

#62: arms wrapping around your waist from behind while you’re on a phone call

#63: “ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

#64: message in a bottle

#65: becoming the parents of the friend group as soon as they start dating

#66: “I love you.”

“Ouch.”

#67: “We...we did it. We did it! Oh my God, I could kiss you.”

“Well, don’t be shy.”

My To-Do List

Here is everything that I’m currently working on! If you’ve sent a request in, and I see it, it should pop up here!

REQUEST SLOTS: FULL

+ Sherlock / Reader (not requested) undetermined topic

+ Rusty Ryan / Reader (not requested) #4

+ Sam Seaborn / Reader (requested) slow dancing

*anything with an asterisks has already been started.

Tag List

@girloncorneliastreet​ for The West Wing

@wolviesbabes​ for Gibbs / Reader

Frequently Asked Questions

How do I submit a request? When you look at my blog, there is a link titled “Asks/Requests”. Click that, and submit something!

How specific does my request have to be? More detail is always better if you’re looking for something specific, but if you’re not picky, it’s no big deal! Even if you just say “could I have some more Spock content please?” I’ll answer it!

Do you write smut? Nope! Not for me.

Are your requests open? Not at the moment! They will be soon, though.

What do I do if your requests are closed? Send it later, when they’re open again!

Do you have a master list? I do! I also have a tag called #masterlist, which all of my work is under. You can access the master list itself by navigating to the page on my blog, or just clicking the link at the top of this post!

What’s your name? You can call me C :)

Why didn’t you reblog my post about social justice? In order to avoid burnout for myself and my followers, I am doing my best to keep this blog free of anything other than fan content. This does not mean that I disagree or agree with you, it just means that I’m not commenting. I do not need to participate in internet social justice activity when I am already an activist on other platforms, including real life.

What can I send asks or messages about? Anything!! Life updates, random questions, whatever! I love to hear from you <3

That’s all, folks!

[orionares]

BTHB: Comatose

BTHB: Comatose 

Law and Order: SVU

@badthingshappenbingo​

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“Can I ask you something?”

He flinches at the small voice from across the room. Blue eyes similar to his eyes stare at him blankly beneath brown curly hair with the same tenacity and strength he'd worked side by side with for twelve years. 

Elliot nods slowly, prompting the ten year old to slide out of his chair and cross the room to stop inches from the foot of his mother's bed. Noah Benson rests his hand on the foot of the bed and eyes Elliot cautiously. "Did you do something to my mom?"

Elliot chokes on his breath and pushes himself from the huddled position in his chair to face Noah. He stifles a need to burst into tears and instead answers in a cracked voice, “What do you mean?”

“If you were the one that got her hurt,” Noah muses, “you’d be in jail. But- but you aren’t arrested and you have a badge. So you're a cop. Right?”

Elliot can feel his heart shatter as the boy eyes his mother, lying unconscious in one of Sanai’s hospital beds, hooked up to a handful of wires. He himself can’t bring himself to look at her- no, not after what had happened. The guilt alone-

“Do you work with my mom?” Noah’s question comes as he steps closer to Elliot, causing the older man to flinch. “I’ve never seen or heard about you before.”

“You're inquisitive,” Elliot stammers. Noah cocks his head to right and mutters, “What’s itiquative?”

“Inquisitive,” Elliot corrects. He scratches the back of his neck and sighs, “It means you ask a lot of questions. You also like to ask the right questions. Like your mom.”

“That’s what Uncle Fin says.” His face falls as he turns towards the bed and sniffles, “Is she going to be ok?” 

A knuckle raps on the door as Fin Tutola ducks his head into the door before stepping in. He pauses to stare at Olivia for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. Even though he had dropped off Noah an hour earlier, he still finds himself shaken at seeing her in this state. “You ready to head out, Noah?”

Noah doesn’t peel his eyes from the bed. “Why hasn’t she woken up yet?” he answers softly. Behind him, Fin and Elliot exchange a worried look. 

“Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?” Fin asks. He walks to the side of the bed opposite Elliot and Noah. He places a hand on Olivia’s forehead and sighs as one of his closest friends doesn’t react to his touch. Noah nods slowly and furrows his brow as he recalls the day prior’s conversation. 

“She hit her head on the sidewalk when she and-” Noah quickly whips his head back to Elliot, “Detective Stabler was trying to leave the hospital. It’s a….it’s called a…”

“Cerebral edema,” Elliot finishes. “Brain swelling. They induced a coma to help the swelling go down. It’s going to take a few days for her to heal, buddy.” Using the word ‘buddy’ stings for Elliot- hell, he doesn’t deserve to use that term for the son of the woman whose heart he broke. 

 Noah shakes his head. “Oh, yeah. Can I stay a little longer? ‘Cause I want to be here when she wakes up.” 

“Well, Elliot will be here-”

Noah’s eyes widen and he turns once more to Elliot. He mirrors his mother’s investigative scan at his badge and face. “My mom says your name in her sleep. A lot.” 

Fin snorts unexpectedly at the boy’s comment. “Okay. Maybe this is a conversation for another time-”

 Elliot finally pulls himself out of his daze and holds up a hand in defense. “No, I-I can head out and-”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Noah counters. “Can I talk to Elliot, Uncle Fin?”

Elliot glances up to Fin, who’s staring at Noah with contemplation. Even after ten years, Elliot can recognize the planning in the sergeant’s eyes. After a minute, Fin looks down to Olivia and whispers to her, “It’s your kid and you know I can’t say that to that face. He’s going to ask a million questions unless we nip it in the butt.” 

“Fin-”

“Why don’t you take Noah down to the cafeteria?” Fin suggests, cutting Elliot off. He checks his cellphone to see 7:36 on the lock screen. “I think the cafeteria closes by 8 and he hasn’t had dinner yet.” 

“Wait, maybe-” 

Noah’s already moving towards the head of the bed where an empty chair sits close enough for him to climb onto the bed. He sits on his knees and begins chatting to his mother, “Mom, I’m going to be right back, ok?” 

“She heard you,” Fin says. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the cafeteria, Noah slides into one of the cafeteria’s booths with a plate of a hotdog and French fries. Elliot stands next to the table and watches the boy slide off his jacket and begin eating hungrily without a word. The detective hesitates before easing down into the booth and sliding across to sit directly across from him. 

“How’s the food?” Elliot finally asks after a few minutes of silence. 

“Good.” 

“I’m glad.” Elliot rests his hands in his lap and asks, “So your question about if I did something to your mom….what made you think that?”

“I heard Auntie Amanda and Uncle Sonny talking about you when I stayed at Auntie Amanda’s apartment,” Noah answers. He takes a bite of his hot dog and continues, “They were talking about how her ex-partner came back and how someone….named Chief said that she should stay away from you. What’d you do?”

“I- '' Elliot inhales and exhales slowly, replaying the many ways he had predicted having a conversation with Olivia’s son. “I was her partner at work for twelve years. We were inseparable and then I left her….without saying goodbye.” 

“Why?”

Elliot pauses to formulate his answer. “Adult reasons.”

Noah moves onto his French fries and mumbles, “Adults always say that. It’s dumb.”

“Touché. I was married until a couple of months ago when my wife died,” Elliot explains. Saying the words ‘my wife died’ still stings. “When your mom and I were partners, I…..um…”

“You loved my mom?” Noah’s eyes widen before he shrugs his shoulders at Elliot’s sudden look of disbelief. “What? It happens in the movies all the time.”

“You are too smart for your own good,” Elliot chuckles. “I did but I was married. That’s a complicated line even for adults.”

“Then….why’d you leave?” 

“Because I was afraid. Things became complicated so I did what cowards do and ran, Noah.” He ignores the instinct to stop spilling his guts to a ten year old and pushes on. “ My family and I moved to Italy and I cut her out of my life.” 

Noah suddenly stops eating, pushes the plate towards Elliot and scowls at the man. “That’s stupid.”

“What?”

“I don’t get why adults do stupid stuff like that. My friend Phillip’s parents hated each other but they stayed married. Philip said they should have gotten a divorce  a long time ago but didn’t. He moved away last year with his grandparents,  I think. It’s dumb that you left.” 

Elliot settles back against the booth, speechless. The observations and opinions shared by everyone in Olivia’s life spilled out by her son in a ten minute conversation. “It was and will be one of the greatest regrets in my life.” 

Noah takes another fry off of his plate. His next question comes in a timid voice. “Do you still love my mom?”

Elliot swallows hard and feels tears forming in his eyes. “Why do you ask?” he chokes out. 

“Because you keep staying with her at the hospital. And you look like people do when people they love are hurt.” 

Elliot nods and chuckles. “You should be a detective when you grow up.”

“I want to be a dancer. Do you?”

Elliot smiles for the first time in days at Noah. “More than anything. More than anything.”

Noah takes another fry before stifling a yawn. “You should tell her...if she...if she…”

“Hey,” Elliot quickly slides out of his side of the boot and moves to sit next to a suddenly tear eyed Noah. Elliot rests a hand on his shoulder and says softly, “Your mom is the absolute strongest woman I ‘ve ever met. She’s going to be ok. You can’t give up hope, okay?”

Noah buries his head against Elliot’s shoulder and whimpers, “Okay.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They're letting me stay the night," Elliot says softly as he settles back into his chair he had been sitting in for the past two days. After parting ways with Fin and Noah, he had returned to the hospital room to find a blanket , a pillow and a nurse giving a nod in approval. "I think they assume that we've..that we're…together, I guess."

Hw can't bring himself to look at her battered form in the bed. The moments of leaving the hospital after the Chief and IAB had dismissed Bell, Olivia and him to go home replays over and over every time his mind wanders.

"Elliot, I don't need protection!" Olivia growls as the three head towards the parking garage. 

"Wheatley got to Angela in a hospital! I'm not going to let him get near you!" Elliot counters. Behind him, Bell's eyes are occupied on her phone, brow furrowed at the information she's just received from Jet. 

“I know how to protect myself and my son. I’m a police captain,” she argues back. There’s an anger behind her statement that he can’t quite place but-

Bell suddenly holds up a hand and exclaims, “Hold up! Jet’s just sent me a-”

His sergeant doesn't finish as a concussive force slams into his body , propelling him and the two women across the pavement and into unconsciousness. 

Elliot shakes off the memory and continues to talk. “I think it’s because I’ve spent a total of six hours away from you since the explosion. Liv, I can’t- ever since I’ve come back, I’ve put you in danger, caused you stress and….got Kathy killed.”

In the back of his head, he imagines the Olivia of ten years ago, sitting next to him with a cup of coffee and a comforting hand on his shoulder, saying, “El, you can’t blame yourself for something that was out of your control.”

“But I left you and that was in my control,” he answers the voice. He rubs a hand over his face in frustration. Another bit of memory- the briefest moment of consciousness after the explosion replays in his head. 

He’ll never forget opening his eyes to her lying unconscious a foot away from him on the pavement with blood running from her ear onto the ground. 

“I know I don’t deserve this but,” Elliot whispers, “but don’t leave me please. I didn’t deserve Kathy and I sure as hell don’t deserve you….but” he finally looks up to the bed and can’t stop the sob of guilt that comes. The tubes, cuts and her stillness break him. Elliot stands up and walks to her side, letting the tears fall. The tears don’t fall only for her, but for his wife, his kids, Noah and everyone he’s impacted since returning to New York. 

“I love you,” Elliot whispers. He rests his forehead against hers and repeats the words he hopes he can say one day again. “I love you.”

[hobiwonder]

mission impossible | (m)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, crack.

Warnings: Oral, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight degradation. dom/sub themes (jungkookie being a good boy and then... not so good lol)

Words: 9k+

Summary: When you find out that your groupmate is whoring it up on tinder instead of handing in his part of the project, you go on a mission to teach him a lesson. And maybe get him to finish his part.

A/N: hello!!!! thankyou all for waiting patiently. or maybe you’ve just forgotten about me lol. it’s been a while since i uploaded anything!!! I hope you enjoy this crack as much as I enjoyed writing fuckboy but still a movable baby!jungkook. please don't forget to tell me ur thoughts. feedback keeps me going :)

If it was something strange, it would happen to you. You were not just saying that because of the hint of narcissism in your personality that made you think that everything was about you. Oh no. You never seem to catch a break these days. And quite honestly, you should’ve expected your dose of absurd to be handed to you soon. It had been a week too long without any fatuous incidents and/or people happening to you. Was this just a y/n thing? Was every girl with your name cursed? Maybe it had something to do with your astrological sign. That always seemed to be the explanation of a lot of your friends who did not want to admit to their faults that would land them in hot water. The usual “oh it’s because i’m insert-star-sign”. 

Were you really becoming that girl? Though it was hard to blame yourself for this one. Currently staring at your phone. More specifically, the defined abdominals of your group mate. A group mate who has not shown up to a single meeting. After a whole day of slaving away at your study desk, deleting and rewriting your discussion and evidential analysis to conclude whether or not it was a plausible inference that the movies, Whiplash and Black Swan were excellent cinematic representations of the ‘Obsessed Performer.’ 

Yeah. That was a mouthful. And you bet your right ass cheek that you were the only one out of yourself and Jungkook who had even watched the said movies. In the group of four, Jungkook and yourself were given the discussion and conclusion to write. The three of you who had been present at the initial group meeting had chosen your parts as was decided in the group chat prior. When all of you had received a text from Jungkook cancelling last minute, you’d snagged the conclusion as well as half of the discussion to write as just the conclusion would be a little too easy. And you had wrongfully assumed that your peer had been in some sort of ‘emergency’ since he always sounded like he was in a hurry to do something incredibly important. 

You’d pitied the seemingly sweet looking boy and told him that you’ll work together on the last two sections of the paper. And his bastard self had always been all smile emojis and ‘yes :)’ and just all around misleading. Sounding like he was diligently working on his part by himself and definitely will turn everything into you by Thursday. Thursday was yesterday and you had not received even a single message from Jungkook about where he was in terms of progress on the 1000 words he needed to write. Message after message, you weren’t even being left on read. And in concern you had messaged your group chat that maybe he was facing some real life crisis to be so MIA. Until this.

Until you had picked up your phone about half an hour ago to mindlessly scroll through your instagram feed and then in the last 10 minutes had decided to also go on to tinder just to humour yourself. You were well aware that tinder was a cesspit of weird and unhinged men who would only be a good enough to make a youtube video about or a horror story texted to your best friend. You were speaking from experience. Decent men on tinder was like finding a luxury vintage dress in half good condition at a thrift store. 

So when you’d swiped left for the 30th time - you’d finally come across the perfect face of someone very familiar. You’d almost swiped left on reflex before you’d brought the phone almost too close to see why the face looked so recognisable. Even without having actually ever met Jungkook face to face - apart from that first lecture - it was hard to miss that this definitely was him. Your mouth had fallen open, jaw just shy of touching your soft bedsheets. You’d found Jeon Jungkook on tinder. His perfectly coy smile staring right at you, the first few buttons of his black shirt open wide to capture your attention back to his smooth, muscular chest. Hastily dialling Momo’s number, you can barely contain your shock and anger and annoyance. All of it wrapped up in one powerful burst of dialogue that you subject Momo’s ears too.

“Bitch!!!” You can’t help screeching, mind boggled.

“What happened now? Jungkook finally reply to you?”

“No oh my god. I found his tinder. I found his tinder Mo. I found his tinder!” You were screaming again but you couldn’t help it. 

You were missing a Jeon Jungkook to rightfully scream at so poor Mom was bearing the brunt of your anger and maniacal laughter because your brain was having a hard time believing your luck.

 “Wait, seriously? Did you match him?” Oh wait. Of course. There was still another step.

Wordlessly you swipe right, hard skipping a few beats in anticipation. And when the screen shows that he swiped you right as well and that you could now message him, you’re laughing once more.

“So he did. Wow. What a piece of shit.” She’s also laughing albiet much more like a normal human being.

“I cannot believe this Mo. This fuckhead doesn’t read any of my messages for the last week and I find him matched to me on tinder?”

Just then, your phone vibrates. Telling Mo to hold on, you don’t want to believe that this is actually happening. You had just received a message from Jungkook. It had barely been a whole minute of you matching up with him on this app and he had already messaged you.

Jungkook: What has 36 teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? My zipper.

This must be a bad dream. Were the cameras of Punk going to start showing up form under your bed? Were you being punked? Not only was Jeon Jungkook just the worst partner out of all the group projects you had been in, he was most definitely a fuckboy. Who used terrible pick-up lines. Did he really not recognise you? Granted that your pictures were not the ones you had put up on facebook - it was still quite discernible that this was definitely you.

“Mo, he just sent me a horny pick-up line oh my god. I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course he did. I always thought he was a bit of a player. What did he say?”

When you read out the message, both of you are coughing from the laughter. This was too ridiculous and just very much like something that would happen to you. You had a group project due in less than two days and your group mate had turned out to be a bit of a horny bastard that was more concerned with getting his dick wet than messaging you back.

“You need to message him back, y/n. Pour the cold water on him already and tell him how badly he fucked up.”

“No way! I bet you he’s going to never message me back. At least on tinder i’m going to get a reply. Just how the hell do I ask him about the paper that he should’ve emailed me, like, yesterday? Ugh.”

“Just message him back, firstly. Or lose the only communication you just got. Do you know what dorm he’s in?”

“No idea.” Typing your reply and deleting it - much like your assessment that you were working hard on. Unlike him.

You:  Hulk always was my favourite Avenger :)

“You did not just say that! Grossssss.” Yeah. Humouring fuckboys was exclusively for post 6 tequila shots Y/n.

Chuckling at your own response, you’re trying to keep your cool while trying to keep Jungkook’s attention so he doesn’t stop messaging you.

“Mo, wait. I just had an idea.”

“Please, y/n, violence is not the answer.”

“I won’t hurt him you knob. Okay talk to you later!” Not a lot anyway.

“I’m telling the police I don’t know you if they come around tomorrow! Bye!”

Making a face at your phone for good measure - you go ahead with your plan. There was no way you were letting Jeon Jungkook get away that easily. You’d been working so hard this semester. Harder than you have ever tried and you would not let his sloppy self to bring down your grade on an assessment that was worth 40% of your grade. Nearly half. Neither did the people in your group deserved it.

“Just you wait, Jeon. I’m going to kick your horny ass.”

Jungkook: let my Hulk destroy any traces of bad fucks you’ve had.

Your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at his brashness. Did he really just ask you to fuck? This is the second thing he has said to you and it’s him asking to fuck you. You can’t believe how much of a textbook fuckboy he was. When you haven’t responded for a few minutes, you get another message form him.

Jungkook: if that was too forward ^-^

Jungkook: then what i said was a lie lol.

Jungkook: I'm probably the best fuck you’ll ever have.

You cannot believe your eyes. With each message, Jungkook is either confusing you or making you shake your head at how exactly like all the other boys on tinder he is. This was hands down, the longest conversation you have had with Jungkook directly. In the group chat he generally adressed everyone, shooting haphazard apologies right before meetings. Saying he would not be able to make it. It had frustrated you to no end as the date for submission got closer and closer. And to see him reply quicker than you, on tinder no less, was beyond infuriating. 

You: Well then. Prove it.

You: Where do you live?

You doubted that Jungkook would be reluctant to give you his address. That’s just not something you see happening. Maybe he preferred to go to the girl’s place? That wouldn’t matter to you either. Though convincing him to bring his laptop with him would be a challenge but you were fine to let him work on your own. There was no way you were letting him go without coughing up his part.

Jungkook: you sure?

You: wanna fuck. Hurry up.

Jungkook: you’re so sexy :)

You were going to literally lose it. Not sure why you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard to stop yourself from laughing at his messages. Jungkook was the epitome of a snapchat fuckboy. It was much more hilarious than you anticipated. You were expecting to be feeling the singular emotion of sheer hostility. But you were having too much fun with this. Especially when you weren’t going to actually fuck him but seeing how eager and self-assured he was, this was all the more pleasant. 

Jungkook texts you his address and you let him know that you’ll be there in around 20 minutes. He lived surprisingly close. Though him staying in an all male rich residential college was definitely not a surprise. Only kids with a lot of disposable income and no worries of being evicted avoided doing any actual school work. The rest of you were not privy to such luxury. The more you thought about it the more you knew how gratifying it will be to show up at Jeon Jungkook’s door with a pile of notes and your laptop. He was in for a treat.

Dressing in that one little black dress you had was only part of the plan. An attempt to fool him one last time before you handed him the checklist of what he had to do. You shrug on a large jean jacket that fell below your bottom to conceal your provocative dress, grab your bag after stuffing all the necessities and then set out the door. Dialling Momo’s number, you let her know where you will be incase anything happens. You could never be too careful.

“Yo, I’m going to Cornell college. Jungkook apparently lives there so I’m going to meet him.”

“Are you serious? He told you his address?!”

“Sure did.”

“I pray for his soul.”

“He made me suffer far longer! Whose side are you on, traitor?!”

“Yours but knowing you, he’s in for a LOT. Okay stay safe.”

“Yeah yeah. He needs to be safe not me.”

“Yeah that was what I was saying. Anywhore. have fun.”

“Bye.”

The closer you get to the college, you are starting to hear loud music. Was this even allowed on colleges? Were there not any volume restrictions given what time it was and the fact that it was managed by onsite staff? Arriving on the level Jungkook told you his room was, 4th, the music is even more noticeable. The sign pointing to the common room was where most of the bass was coming from and you guess maybe there is a function going on. Though the closer you walk, you realise that this was not just any event. This was a party. The cracks in the door gave away to the activities happening inside the large hall. Deciding not to wait any longer, you text Jungkook again. Being as serious as you can be to get him to meet you outside instead of carrying your backpack with you inside.

You: I’m here to fuck, not party.

Jungkook: it’s a good party tho. We can slowly take it back to my room ;)

You: I’ll find someone else.

You hope he takes your bluff.

Jungkook: love it when you order me around baby.

Jungkook: don’t forget who’s in charge. Me.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, still smirking at your phone. No matter what your initial intentions were, you had to admit that playing with Jungkook was fun. He was unacceptably attractive and looked like the type of guy you would reduce to tears. But none of that tonight. You had to stay focused. You’re about to type another message to speed him up but he beats you to it. 

Jungkook: room is unlocked. go in. i’ll be there in a minute.

Letting out a whoosh of air you’d been holding, you head down the hall, further away from the heavy bass and the party music. Somewhat hesitantly, you open the door to the room number he gave you. Nothing out of the ordinary. His room wasn’t messy. It was tidy. No sign of books. Just a bunch of sketches and film negatives strewn about on his  study desk. Shamelessly, you snoop around, trying to find any evidence that he studies at all. So far, you’d only found an industry grade recording mic, two different types of cameras and some more unused camera reel. 

Getting out your notes and the checklist you were going to hand to Jungkook, you get everything ready for when Jungkook arrives. You were not going to let him get away with this. Just another minute later, you can hear the footsteps getting closer. And for a moment, so does your heartbeat. You were quite confident in yourself but there was always a chance that Jungkook was more than a harmless oversexed college boy. All of the very rational fears are thrown out the window, however, as soon as the black mop of hair comes into view. Jungkook was incredibly handsome. Even moreso than his pictures. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him months ago. The long strands of inky black hair fell endearingly in his face, just to the middle of his eyes, parted right in the middle and curling slightly. He wore a long sleeved shirt with hip-hugging jeans that almost made you drool visibly. The saliva was positively pooling in your mouth but you swallowed it quickly to avoid embarrassment. 

Now, you were angry. You really were. You needed this assessment finished so you could start on other projects and without Jungkook finishing up his part, there was no way you would have finished yours on time. But you would be a bold faced liar if you didn’t admit that you were oh so tempted to abandon your vendetta and not ride him like a bronco. You could tell that unfortunately, unlike other men who strutted about with empty words - Jungkook would be the best you would have in a while.

And when he smiles, it’s not any easier.

“Hey you.”

“Hi.” Desperately trying to keep your voice even, you smile coyly.

Jungkook locks the door, running a hand through his hair before he stalks towards you. Confident as ever. You bite your lip, baiting him even further before you strike. Just when he gets close enough to you, you hold out an arm to keep him from touching you.

“God, you’re even more sexy in person.”

“Uh-uh, be patient.” He’s blissfully unaware, just smirking in return as he watches your hands roam his chest before going up to his face. Taking a step closer to him, you rake your nails up his neck, leaving little white lines from the scratches. 

“Close your eyes, Jungkook.” Jungkook, ever the obedient boy, closes them quickly. Awaiting your next move.

You can’t help yourself when he looks like this. Completely immersed in the feel of your hands. He was a good few inches taller than you but your platformed sneakers made it easier for you to teach him a lesson. His dark eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, face so relaxed you would think he’s sleeping. You deserved to play a little at least, right? Leaning forward, you stop with the internal rationalising and just make the move.

Your lips meet his in a fiery kiss. His stoic figure melting as soon as your lips lock, hands grabbing at your waist while his tongue grazes your bottom lip. Jungkook is moaning in the kiss like he’s taking his first gulp of water after roaming the desserts. Momentarily, you forget your purpose for even being here in the first place. Wrapping your hands in his tempting long tresses and pulling, making even more sweeter noises to spill past his lips. He’s panting and restless. Moving his body against yours like he’ll die without it. Moving him backwards, you push him agains his swivelling study chair that was conveniently faced the right way. 

His hands are all over you as soon as he’s down on the chair with your legs straddling his thighs on either side. All you can feel are his lips and his tongue and his hands. All over you, sliding your jacket off your shoulders to travel his kisses down another path. The desperate intake of oxygen is enough to bring your head back in the game, barely. With Jungkook nipping away at the now exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, it’s hard for you to stay focused. Especially when the hard tent in those sinfully tight jeans is now pushing against your softest part. He’s impossibly hard and you’re impossibly soft down there. It’s a lethal combination because neither of you can live without the other being pressed against each other. When you push down on him he pushes his hips up with even more ferocity, moaning louder with every illicit rub of the thickness between his thighs. 

You’re addicted to the feeling and not sure how you’ll centre yourself enough to do what you actually came to do. God was really making you eat your words, huh? You were so close to ripping all his clothes off and fucking his brains out. You bet he’ll make the prettiest sounds when you ride him. His whimpers and moans just from gyrating up against you were enough of an indication. Sliding your hands back up in his hair, you yank it back from your neck to see his sweaty, glistening face looking up at you. He looked slightly inebriated. You had tasted the traces of vodka in his kiss but you had a feeling that a lot of his current state had to do with you and not the liquor.

“Jungkook?” He shamelessly rut his hips against yours, not fully hearing you, lost in his own lusty haze.

“Yeah?” Your lips close around the soft cartilage of his earlobe, tugging and flicking with your tongue, illiciting more salacious noises out of him. 

“How’s the assignment coming along?” It takes him a few seconds to respond but the urgency with which he was pawing at you has slowed to a halt like a broken down car.

“Huh?” Pulling back completely, you stare him right in his twinkly eyes that look like a deer caught in the headlights.

“The paper you’re writing on modern cinema?”

“How... how do you know about that?” You smile at him sweetly. Before you flick him across his forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“I should be saying that you harlot!”

“Harlot? really? You were all over me just now. You are all over me!” You’re surprised he knows the meaning of the medieval insult. 

“Don’t try and weasel out of this! I’ve been waiting for your finished part since yesterday!”

“Wait... you’re y/n, y/n?”

“Took you long enough.”

“With your tongue down my throat? I wonder why.” You cannot believe you are arguing with a boy whilst still in his lap with his hands holding on to your waist.

Jungkook is trying his hardest to deflect and make you seem like the desperate one when he had been the one to want to fuck you from the get go. Getting off his lap, you fix your dress, tugging it down a little since the assault from Jungkook had almost bared your ass. Jungkook is still sitting in his study chair, dumbfounded.

“Finish your part of the discussion Jungkook. I have to write the conclusion and submit the paper.”

He is still staring. And now your eyes are travelling down to his thighs. Particularly the large bulge a little further up. A very substantial bulge that makes your mouth water once more. 

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry, what? I just had a dream that a crazy girl tried to get me to do my homework right before we were going to fuck.”

“Listen here you little shit,” You grab Jungkook’s chin, gently despite his theatrical reactions, tilting it up to look you in the eyes. His reactions are so comical you almost laugh. “I’ve worked too hard for you to just give me piss poor, last minute effort. I’m here until you finish it.”

“You cannot be serious.” Letting go of his chin, you step back, folding your arms against your chest for good measure. Raising an eyebrow for him to challenge you.

“You expect me to write a thousand something words with this,” He points between his legs, you roll your eyes, “still here? No way.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?” So pretty. But he didn’t need to know that. You swivel his chair around back to face his desk.

“Less talk and more work!”

“Y/n, you can’t- can’t make me!” He’s throwing his hands around like a child and it’s a little too cute for an annoying boy like him who’s put you through so much anxiety. Sitting on his bed, swinging your legs as your eyes look around at the paintings, you let him huff and puff.

“Oh yeah? Guess I’ll have to call the cops because of the weed you have.”

His nose scrunches up adorably. “I don’t have any weed.”

“But I do. Who will they believe?” His eyes widen once more as he realises what you’re saying.

“Are you seriously blackmailing me?” You nod, smiling brightly. Jungkook turns back around, head in his hands as he mutters to himself how his tinder hookups are always crazy.

“Hey! I wouldn’t be here if you did your work! or replied to any of my messages.”

“Um, I was going too? I was busy.”

“Taking vodka shots? Yeah I could tell.” The mention of the kiss is bringing a rosy flush to Jungkook’s cheeks. Such an uncharacteristic reaction for a guy with his looks and his confidence.

He was that much more appealing to you because of how he contradicted his own personality. You knew he was one of those boys who acted all tough but secretly wanted to be bossed around. Told to do this and that. Made uncomfortable and maybe slightly humiliated. They lived to please. And the way Jungkook had melted into your body almost as if asking for guidance earlier, you knew he was exactly like that. He may not even know it yet but you could have him in the palm of your hands in a matter of minutes.

“What do I get in return?” He’s still grunting his disapproval, but looking through the notes you put on his desk anyway.

“A good grade and a life longer than 22?”

“You’re crazy.”

“All the more reason for you to be quiet and work!” He pouts at you before quietly looking through the notes and logging into his laptop.

When you’re satisfied he’s actually working, you lay down on his bed, making yourself comfortable knowing that it will take him at least an hour to finish his part. You had practically handed him all the points, he just had to write his own opinion and synthesise the evidence you had collected. The part of discussion required each student in the group’s own thoughts and thus you couldn’t just make them up on Jungkook’s behalf. Nor did you want to. You were done doing two people’s work back in your freshman year. These were advanced level classes and you weren’t going to ruin your grade because of one person.

Thirty minutes later, you’re almost about to doze off when you see Jungkook getting up from his chair in your periphery. Sitting up in a flash - though a little dizzy - you point an accusatory finger at Jungkook. Said boy has stopped mid-standing up.

“Don’t you dare Jeon! Get back in that chair and finish your work.”

“Jesus.” He’s holding his head in his hands once more before he starts whining again. “Y/n, please. Can’t I just do this tomorrow and send it to you then?”

You think about it. You do. “And have you go off the face of the planet again? No way.”

“Please.” He drags out the syllables, pouting and blinking up at you and it almost works.

“No. Not a chance. Just finish it ASAP and I’ll edit it. But finish writing it. The sooner you’re done the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.”

He glares at you. And not the scary, tough man glare that might make you slightly nervous and fidgety that you’re getting on his nerves. It’s a glare a kid gives you when you tell them no more TV or no more xbox. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve seen Jungkook do tonight. Or maybe you’re just sleep deprived. Either way, you wanted to kiss the hell out of him. But you turn your head away, faux annoyance ebbed into your features as you wait for him to start writing again.

It works for another half hour, Jungkook now actually typing more than he’s complaining. It was only a thousand words that he had to write but there was a lot of information that needed to be condensed in those thousand words which meant he was typing and then deleting, repeating the process again and again until he looked to be halfway through. You were impressed at how much he was getting done. Maybe it was your watchful gaze that was making him perform at his peak. You were now just hoping that whatever he wrote was actually plausible and not just rubbish to get you out of his room.

“I can’t believe you’re making me work with a boner. You could’ve at least gotten me off.” His pout his still there as he types casually.

“Stop being a brat and keep working.” 

“Yeah? You’re going to make me write lines? ‘I am a brat’.” He chuckles to himself like he’s burnt you to a crisp with that one comment. 

Taking your hand off of your face, you sit up. You watch the way his biceps bulge under his shirt as he types away at his laptop, legs splayed wide under his desk as he supported a semi. It was still a sizeable dent but nowhere near as daunting looking as before. But none of that diminishes your desire for him. You watch him talk to himself quietly as he types, but now stuck somewhere as he types and deletes and then types a sentence again. 

You’re not sure what sets it off. Maybe it’s your frustration or that you think he owes you something more than just this. Maybe it’s the way he’s sitting? There are a lot of reasons you can use to justify your serious and formidable attraction to him. But you cannot deny that it was him from the get go. Just him in all his submissive glory that made you attracted to him. And that attraction was now getting the best of you. Maybe it was time to torture him in another way.

“No. I’ll do something much more to your liking.”

His head turns back around fast, fingers halting at his keyboard while he inspects the drunken look in your eyes. Slowly, you spread your legs, hands bracing yourself as they clutch the sheets on either side of you. Your heart is racing at the look in his own eyes. Primal and needy. 

“Get on your knees Jungkook.” His chest is rising and falling much quicker than yours. Like he’s holding himself back.

You patiently wait for him to listen to your instructions, watching him. Never breaking eye contact. You know it’s new to him. It’s too obvious for you to deny it. But you relish the look of surprise every time you say something he doesn’t expect. Slowly, get’s up from his chair. Never taking a step further as he drops to his knees, crawling forwards until he’s right infant of you. The room is not that big at all so it doesn’t take him long. Now, his wide, doe eyes look at you. Inquisitive and aroused and it turns you on even more. He’s all man with hard ridges and bulging muscles but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you feel like at the centre of his world.

“Are... are you going to- to make me eat your pussy?” the explicit question sends your nerve endings on fire. 

You’re a second away from grabbing his hair and shoving him right between your legs but the way his soft mouth says the dirty words - it makes you feel a very different kind of way. Now it’s you who can’t stop staring at him. Thinking about what else he has up his sleeves. You expected him to be vocal but never this. He is bold and shy all at the same time.

“Would you like that, Jungkook?” His eyes drop between your legs again, watching the way your panties cling to your increasingly wet folds.

Jungkook is moving between your legs more, eagerly nodding so the strands of his fringe rustle up and down in his face. His arms are going under your thighs, gropping them for good measure before he looks up at you with those eyes again.

“Please.” He’s almost whispering, longing lacing his every word. “Please, y/n. Please let me taste you. ‘wanna taste you.”

His words have turned into pleas and the pleas turn into kisses alongside your inner thighs and then any place Jungkook can get his lips and tongue on. Everything else is forgotten. It’s just you laying on his bed while Jungkook tries to get a taste of you anyway he can. His lips travel up to your covered mound, never daring to move the piece of fabric holding him back from his destination. Opting to only kiss over it, lick his way up your clit through the thin cotton that’s now moulding to your swollen folds.

“Do- do you deserve it, Jungkook? For putting me through so much h-headache? Oh.” Your moans accompany almost every word. Fingers laced into Jungkook’s luscious hair as he continues his hurried tasting of your arousal. 

His response is mumbled between your legs. You watch his veiny hands repeatedly grab at the flesh of your thighs. Kneading it desperately like he’s trying to distract himself from doing something else entirely. A yelp leaves his mouth at your tug on his hair. Pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looks like an addict when he is looking at you like you’re giving him his fix and God, you want to kiss his swollen lips.

“Answer me, brat. Do you deserve anything from me?” 

“N-No.”

“Right. Yet you’re still begging to taste me like the needy little slut you are. Hm?”

Jungkook is whimpering, his lids fluttering. He doesn’t expect the smack across his face, a little too hard for what you had originally aimed for. The surprise is evident and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to be upset. Instead, his breathing is picking up even further.

“Answer me when I speak to you.”

“Y-Yes... Noona.” The breath is almost sucked out of you at his timid tone. And it only makes you want to push him further.

“Good boy.” His eyes are lighting up at the praise like hundreds of little galaxies called them home.

Sliding down towards the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang off, letting your toes touch the floor. Jungkook is still on his knees, watching you manoeuvre yourself around his bed before you reach for the hem of your dress. Watching his every facial expression as you strip. He looks up at you wide-eyed, taking in your soaked underwear and the thin black bra where your nipples pointed right at him. You can see his hands twitch by his side. You’d pushed them off you when you’d changed your position and were surprised at how calm and obedient Jungkook was being. Contrast to how much of an argumentative brat he was. But you had a sneaking feeling that he liked it when you called him that.

You were trying to remain calm yourself. Not give too much away on the dilemma you held inside your head. Thinking if you should take this any further. Though it was a little too late now, you guess. You were practically naked, wetter than ever before as Jungkook watched you with his wide doe eyes. Hunger evident with every flit of his gaze. You would feel cruel if you stopped at this point. So you let the rational part of your brain take a backseat and letting the consequences of tonight berate you in the morning after. Sliding your palms down your stomach, straight inside your soaked panties, you stroke yourself ever so slowly. Holding his heated gaze with cloudy eyes.

“Noona...” It sends another jolt of arousal throughout your already overheated body. He’s biting his plump bottom lip, sliding his hand up and down carelessly on to his erection that had grown considerably in the past fifteen minutes. Jungkook looks like the embodiment of desperation and it makes you rub yourself a little faster. Every time your fingers come in contact with your sensitised clit, you bite the urge to buck your hips brazenly. 

“Yeah, baby? You want to see?” You hold out your wet fingers to him and in a flash, you feel his warm mouth around your digits. He moans loudly like he’s been relieved after years of drought.

“M-More. Please, Noona. I’ll do anything please, please.” Now that didn’t take long. Chuckling at his agonised face, you throw your head back, enjoying the relief your own fingers brought.

But you were torturing yourself too at this point. You wanted to replace your small fingers with Jungkook’s bigger and more vascular hands. You remember the view of his body from the glorified hookup app. Knew what he was hiding under the baggy shirt. The sweet whimpers and ‘please’ sounds coming from him were a delicacy on their own. 

“Take my panties off then. With your mouth. Don’t use your hands... or else.” Your tone is stern enough to give you that satisfying flash going through his eyes. 

In seconds, he’s leaning forward on his hands and knees, eyes never leaving yours as he bites the cotton on your hips, dragging it down. The act itself is a little clumsy. In his haste, Jungkook is taking twice as long should he use his hands. But something about his complete compliance, his willingness to be accepted by you and his utter devotion to pleasing you is the ultimately your undoing. This may be a power trip but you were thoroughly getting ruined during it. 

At last, the cotton has reached your ankles. Quickly, you shrug off your dress as well, completely naked. He’s placed small kisses in greetings before he takes them off completely. Out of breath and out of his mind. The glazed look has taken a permanent vacation in his eyes and you were getting high on it. Jungkook was a communicator. If it wasn’t his mouth relaying the naughty words to you then his eyes were holding yours hostage, smouldering.

Bracing your hands behind yourself and never breaking away from his eyes, your ankles part. Jungkook’s eyes are automatically falling on the mess between your legs but he doesn’t dare move. Awaiting your instructions. Jerking your chin towards his general direction, you silently bring his attention back to his overly dressed self.

“Lose the pants.” His hands make fast work of his jeans. Falling back on to the ground to push them off. 

“Uh-uh. Keep them on.” His eyes widen at your command to keep the underwear on. You weren’t about to just let him have it.

Not yet.

“Noona...” The high pitched noise of protest only makes your nostrils flare. You wanted to live out your every dirty fantasy with him if he sounded this sweet with just watching. The desire was making your head spin and your palms sweat. 

“Yeah?” 

“Please... I’ll do anything.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he kneels infant of you. 

“I’ll eat you out for hours, let you sit on me face until I can’t breathe. Let you ride my tongue until you can’t cum anymore. Just please... fuck me.” The last two words leave him in such agony that for a second it truly sounds like he’s in pain. 

Which is ridiculous given the ted talk he just gave on the Perfect Words To Say to Ruin Y/N and Her Panties. You’re the one currently in pain from clenching your jaw so tight. Resolve like a skinny rubber band about to snap. Dirty talk was the chink in your armour. And by the way Jungkook’s face lit up and his words became a lot more sure and confident, you knew that he was weaponising his skill to control you fully. And you needed to put him in his place before you gave up your pride and rode him until you ran out of stamina or died from your body overheating. Whichever happened first. 

“Get up.” 

“Fuck yes-“ Jungkook’s blubbering about how you’re the hottest person he’s ever seen and that he knows he can blow your mind while you push him back on the bed and straddle his meaty thighs. When he begins to push down your panties, you push his hands off and rest them on his sides. 

“Keep them there or you won’t be coming. Understood?”

His curls bounce around his face as he nods, chest heaving when he looks at your hips move over the biggest bulge you’ve felt under you. You would’ve thought that he’d stuffed his underwear with socks if you couldn’t feel the burning heat his cock was pressing in to you, even through his boxers. Each roll of your hips pressed him to your every crevice like two puzzle pieces fitting in to complete the picture. 

“Oh fuck-... You feel so good noona. I-I’m going to cum if you keep going.” He’s resorted to use his hands at his sides to push him upwards, pressing himself with every gyrate of your hips downward on him.

“Yeah? you’re gunna cum from just this? Is noona making you feel really good?” 

Jungkook is lost in soaking up every sensation like a drunkard.  Gaze not leaving where your hips met. Furrowing his eyebrows in deep concentration as he thrust his hips up, rocking you off balance slightly. Your hands slide into his sweaty curls, pulling them hard enough to yank his beautiful face up and close to your own.

“Answer me what I ask you a question.” And he whines. Or moans.   Nevertheless it’s a lethal mixture of the two and you’re about to kiss him senseless.

“Yes. I-I feel really good. Noona is- oh fuck- g-gunna make me cum.”

“And are you going to?” He looks up at you nervously, trying to speaking amidst every roll of your flaming core onto his dick. It was getting harder and harder for you to speak as well. 

“N-No?” 

“Good. Because only good boys get to cum. Not needy sluts like you.” 

Now Jungkook whimpers like a wounded animal. Because you’ve upped the ante. Holding onto his shoulders while you grind down on his throbbing cock just the right angle so your clit is receiving the mind-numbingly pleasurable stimulation. You were going to cum any minute and it looked as if he was too.

“F-Fuck. I’m going to cum Jungkook. Your cock feels so good.”

“Noona please. Please s-stop. I-I’m going to cum-“

“That’s not my fucking problem. If you want me to fuck you then you better not. Understood?”

He looks utterly panicked. Torn between letting himself go to the unbelievable pleasure of this act alone and wanting to hold back and obey your every command. Jungkook’s lip is bitten red, chest heaving and eyes watering as he watches the erotic sight of your brazen bouncing on his lap. You’re putting on a show just to make it that much more difficult for him to hold back. But he somehow does. Watching your face contort with pleasure as your head is thrown back. Your moans are loud and lewd. Designed just to rile him up to the point of breaking.

“Oh god. I’m- I’m gunna cum baby.” With a shout, you’re riding out wave after wave of the liquid pleasure running through your veins like molten gold. 

It takes a solid minute for your eyes to focus on a singular object. Or a person. More specifically, an incredibly handsome,  glistening, starry eyed, muscular, put-micheal-angelo’s-david-to-shame, strikingly adorable man. Jungkook looked on the verge of losing his sanity. Yet, he didn’t stop watching you collect yourself, flicking the stray strands over your shoulder before you pressed your mouth to his.

You brought your mouth to his and kissed him hungrily. When your lips met, you heard him make a tiny sound. His body went rigid, and he wasn’t reciprocating. You think it might have been down to shock, though, because when your tongue slid past the seam of his lips, he opened them willingly and trembled against you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, and he pulls you closer. You were on fire, felt like you were melting into him. Never before had a single kiss gotten you so worked up. She tasted like chocolate and strawberries. Jungkook rocked forward, and then you felt his tongue move expertly against yours. Of its own accord, a groan emanated from deep in your chest. When he brought his hands to your neck and massaged your throat, you whimper. He was hard as a rock and you finally wanted to reward him for holding out this long.

He’s chasing your lips when you break away, sliding his kisses down your neck as if breaking the contact will be fatal for him. “You did so good baby. Such a good boy.”

The praise seems to rejuvenate his body. Not that he needed to.  He was bursting at the seems with testosterone. The longer he went on without a release, the more unhinged Jungkook seemed. The incongruence of his raw masculinity with his alarmingly meek behaviour towards you was something you didn’t understand but it affected you the most. He surprised you with every move and you wanted nothing more than to own him completely. 

Jungkook makes a noise in his throat at the praise, sliding his hands down to caress the globes of your ass. “I’ve been a good boy. Now fuck me.”

His words are steady, deliberate and to the point. Scratch everything you said about Jungkook being meek. They send shudders down your spine where his hands reside. This was a man who looked on the verge of tearing something apart. And judging from the current situation, he was going to be tearing you apart. You’d let him, gladly. But being the cocktease you are- you push him even more.

“And if I don’t, little boy? Gunna beg?” A heartbeat later, you’re the one on the soft mattress and it’s Jungkook that’s hovering over you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Then I’ll fuck you noona.” 

You’re not too mad because you’re wetter than before and the change in his demeanour has you besides yourself with the need to feel him inside. Jungkook’s teeth are tugging on your hardened nipples. Circling them with his tongue before sucking the puffy buds tenderly. The pressure of his suction is so delicious that you might just cum from this. 

“God! Jungkook, b-baby please. Fuck your noona.” He grins around a nipple, hands sliding inside your soaked core.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should make you wait like you made me. Hm?”

“Don’t be a brat. I’ll stuff your mouth next time with a sock Jeon J- oh fuck!”

He’d slid down your body, his kissing every inch. Your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs.

“I’d rather it be your pussy.” He whispered, bringing his mouth to your wetness, and then licked.

“Ahhh,” you cried out, clutching a handful of his hair. Jungkook chuckled and went at you in earnest. You were so soft and silky beneath his tongue. He met your gaze from below and came up for air. Jungkook watched you for a second before dipping his wet mouth lower again. The noises of your arousal pornographic. He saw you fist the sheets in your hands, your hips rising up off the bed when he sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. He added some fingers to the equation, savoring the hot, tight feel of you.

“Please,” you murmured. “More.”

So he gave you more. He gave you everything. Before he knew it, you were touching your breasts, pinching your nipples as he devoured you, and you swear you could have come from the sight of Jungkook between your legs alone. he was simply glorious. Your voice was starting to get hoarse. Getting close to the edge before Jungkook ripped his mouth away.

“No! Jungkook, please.” You’re frustrated and angry and horny that he would do that. Even if you did the same thing to him. 

He was testing you once again but the raw need in his eyes told you that you were testing him too. 

“I’ll fuck you now noona. Nice and good. You want this cock right?” He’s holding his straining erection heavily, sliding down his boxers to discard them besides his bed.

You moan out your answer, opening your legs wide in invitation.

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.”

“Yeah?” His tone is mocking. His eyes twinkling with a cheeky grin on his face. You almost get up to kiss him because he looked so fucking adorable and hot and sexy at the same time.

Thankfully - or not? - he’s pulling you to the edge of the bed and in seconds, he has pulled you close to his chest. He circles the engorged head of him in your slit before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust. The sheer girth of him has you yelping, needing to adjust to the length of him as well. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you the courtesy of that.

His legs are spread in a powerful stance as his hands grip your legs from behind the knees. And then he’s thrusting. He’s fucking into you so deep, you can feel him in your throat. You must look like a fish at this very moment with your mouth opening and closing without any real sound. He feels hot and thick, like molten lava in your veins. you’re finally finding your voice when angles his hips slightly to the left - biting a spot that has you blinking up at the ceiling full of stars. 

“Jungkook! Oh god. Oh f-fuck. You’re so good baby. S-So good.”

“Yeah? You like how deep I am in your pussy? Answer me noona.” He’s quickening his pace, snapping his hips punishingly making you release a guttural scream.

“I love it. So much.” 

You watch the sweat drip off his forehead, the dimples in his cheek now very prominent as his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth. He’s a sight you want to imprint on the back of your eyelids. You can see his lose his resolve, the creases in his forehead slowly deepening as the pleasure becomes too much for him. 

“God you feel so wet and tight n-noona. You look so hot when you cum. I w-wanna make you squirt.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head at his admissions. It seems like he’s lost all his filter, chasing the mind numbing pleasure he felt earlier. His words are bringing you even closer to the edge and your throat now begs for relief when you  let out another yell as he pushes you up the bed while still fully seated inside you.

“I’m gunna cum noona. I j-just need to... to- I don’t. I don’t wanna h-hurt you-“ His sweet face is contorted with worry, still thrusting steadily. You finally understand his point after a few seconds. Taking you twice as long to comprehend anything with the plethora of feelings your body was feeling right now. 

Cupping his face, you told yours upwards to place a small kiss on his wet lips. “It’s okay baby. You won’t break me. Just let go.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy and he stares in yours for a moment too long because your heart is doing summersaults, heading straight for your mouth. Too much emotion crammed into his big eyes and you just wanted to strangely hug him close to your chest. This day has been strange enough - so you do. You Pull Jungkook close to you. His face tucks itself in the crevice of your neck, whining and moaning. His breath tickles and sends shivers down your spine. And then he circles his hips against yours. 

From the hard and deep fucking, Jungkook circles his hips into yours. Slowly at first, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in just the right way before he speeds up. His hands find their way down your back again, pushing your hips up into his own, making your centres feel everything. You can feel him in every fold of your core and it’s all too much.

“Oh god.” Your hands scratching down his back, head tilted back, legs closing around his waist tightly.

“That’s it noona. Cum for me. Please, please. ‘Wanna feel you around my cock. ‘Wanna feel y-your cunt devour me. Cum.”

You scream so loud that you can hear a ringing in your ears. Vision flashing white as the indescribable pleasure starts in the pit of your stomach and coarse through your limbs all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. It’s all consuming and breathtaking. Unexpected.

“I-I can’t hold it anymore. Can I-“ You’re unable to speak.

Still reeling from your orgasm, twitching from the sensitivity, but you nod anyway. You wanted Jungkook to let go inside of you. Wanted to give him the same pleasure he gave you. He was incredibly ethereal atop you. You wanted to see him come undone. And Jungkook was too far gone to think twice before hitching one of your legs up, the other arm grabbing the headboard as he thrust up inside you once again.

“Fuck, yes. God, you’re so good you’re so good. I could fuck you forever noona.” 

His eyes are watering, tucking his face back into your neck again before he pistons his hips against yours rhythmically. The only sounds in the room being the tacky noise of skin slapping against skin, the obscene squelch from the steady arousal leaking between you both. You’re so delirious from the mix of pleasure and the deliciously addicting pain. AT some point, you’ve stopped screaming and only whimpers leave past your lips, legs falling lax around Jungkook and hands fisting the sheets.

“Cum Jungkook. P-Please baby. Cum for n-noona.”

“‘gunna cum. Am I good noona? your good boy?”

“You’re the best Jungkookie. Cum for your noona.”

“Fuck! Y/n, f-fuck.” He’s shouting something you can’t properly hear because of the ringing in your ears from your own release.  Filling you with his hot release. The intense pressure that had been building between you has snapped the frail rubber band in your stomach again. And seems like Jungkook’s had too.

Moments pass, both of you trying to suck in air like it’s the last supply available. Then, Jungkook’s flushed face appears in front of yours with his signature cheeky smirk. He’s glowing.

“You squirted.”

“Shut up!” Your ears must be the shade of a tomato now as you swat his back for the comment. He lays besides you, cuddling up to your side with his leg laying on top of yours. Clinging to you like a koala and it’s too damn adorable. Damn it. 

“It was hot. You’re amazing.” Your heart flutters a little too violently at that and you have to suck in another breathe, pulling the sheets off of him and completely bundling them on you.

“Hey!”

“Hm? You’re going to finish that assessment.” You grin innocently at him and try your hardest to not start howling with laughter when you can see his face fall almost in slow motion.

“Are you serious?” You just sent him a kiss before settling in his bed for maybe a 12 hour nap. Just a tiny nap.

“Noona!”

“I’ll give you head when you’re done. Be a good boy.”

With the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen on a grown man, you watch Jungkook pull up his boxers, stomping away to his study desk.

“Wake me up when you’re done Jungkookie.” Your sweet tone does little to get the pout off his face but he does smile the whole time he’s typing. 

Of course, not that he let you see that

a/n: liked it? hated it? let me know!!

[junkyard-gifs]

Hi vixy/manedwolf,

I understand where you're coming from and, as I said, I accept your apology for myself. However, I can't accept it on behalf of anybody else, and I'm not going to tell anybody to unblock you or forgive you.

The simple fact is that you came into this fandom with a 36-hour campaign of nasty harassment, some of it sexual (including the messages you sent to me), some of it ableist, much of it defamatory. I know of about 15 different people who've received your messages - and I wasn't exactly going around and asking everybody in the fandom so I'm sure that's not a complete list. It's up to the people you've hurt to decide whether they want to forgive or trust you enough to want to interact with you in future.

Unfortunately that might just not happen, whatever your efforts. We've had too many similar incidents over the last few years in this fandom for anybody to just brush it off lightly. If you do want to mend bridges, you could try adding something to that effect in your header or pinned post? And of course, just be a friendly and respectful presence within the fandom.

I'd suggest not trying to contact the people who have you blocked, either directly or by sending messages to their friends: respect people's boundaries as you'd want them to respect yours. It will take time, but it took all of us time to find our place in the fandom.

Nobody's going to come after you and harass you - you don't need to worry about that. And you've got 'proshippers DNI' in your header now, I see, which is great because proshippers in this fandom do respect that.

Also, just for your own peace of mind...

For almost every proshipper I know in this fandom, 'proship' just means 'ship and let ship' and 'don't harass people about their ships', not 'I ship incestuous or adult/child relationships'. There's no major difference between what antis or proshippers ship in this fandom. There's people on either side who ship 'kitten' characters with other kittens or adults, for example—but in every case that I'm aware of, they're treating the kittens as young adults, not as children. I don't know anybody in this fandom who has actual adult/child ships, and only a couple of people (not very active) who have sibling incest ships. In any case, most people are also very careful about tagging for potentially sensitive content. Certainly there's nobody in the fandom actually advocating grooming or abusing kids: we can all agree that that's completely abhorrent and disgusting. So you should be fine so long as you blacklist tags for things you don't want to see. Good luck!

[girlmeetsliv3]

Violent Delights: One

Violent Delights

(In collaboration with @jooniescupcakes​)

Genre: Horror, Suspense, & Psychological Thriller

Pairings: Gang!Jimin x reader ; BTS x Reader

Sypnosis:“These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss, consume.”

Release Date: Sept 29, 2020 @ 8 p.m. (GMT-4)

Word Count: 9.2k

Author's Note: It's finally here! Almost a year in the works, but Violent Delights The Series is finally kicking off. Thank you for all the love, support, as well as critiques the one-shot received. I hope this re-telling can both capture and surpass the twisted charm of the original. I would like to thank Min (@jooniescupcakes) for helping me outline and plot the story and for contributing. I greatly appreciate it. This story will be darker, gore-y, and a lot more twisted than the original. So strap in & happy early Halloween! Trigger Warning: This story contains subject matter not appropriate for all ages. This story contains mental illness, emotional, physical, and mental abuse; as well as abuse of power, manipulation, and toxic relationships. All of which play a big part in this story. It is never my intention to sensationalize or spread misinformation about mental disorders, please take the "medicine" used in this story with a grain of salt. Links to helplines can be found in the navigation of my blog. Lastly, this is a work of fiction and does not portray the character of Bangtan Sonyeondan.

The door slammed shut harshly as Hanbin rushed to bolt it locked, by his side, he tugged an inconsolable YN through the small house. There was very little time until she arrived. He maneuvered his way through the piles of old dirty clothes, the children had long become accustomed to the stench coming from the kitchen, the dust, and grime that covered their home. It’s why no one came over. Not that anyone was allowed over. In the center of the room framed on the wall shined a family portrait mockingly. Hanbin was short for his age, just eight years old, but it allowed him to navigate through small openings and hide in tight spaces. It was a survival tactic.

“Shh, YN. You need to calm down. She’ll be here soon.”

“i-I wuh-wanted to help, Binnie. She was hurt -”

Hanbin pulled on his sister a little too harshly trying to draw her attention, it caused her lower lip to quiver as she tried to hold the tears back. That wouldn’t do she didn’t like it when they cried. “Helping people only gets you into trouble.” Outside, the slamming of a car door could be heard. Quickly Hanbin located the small broom closet and helped YN inside. The jiggling of the doorknob was barely above a whisper, but it rang as loud as the fire alarm in the children’s heads. YN began to hyperventilate knowing what was coming even if she didn’t truly understand why. 

“It’s okay,” Hanbin rubs her cheek affectionately. “Just stay inside, be quiet, and don’t try to help.” Just like that he closed the door and locked it. He silently hoped YN hadn’t skipped lunch that day. YN cowered under the old headboards, her only company the dusty cleaning products and cobwebs, the second the screaming started she covered her ears and closed her eyes.

“Miss YN?” The nurse’s bright pink scrubs served as a strong contrast to the muted tones of the rest of the building. YN cast a glance around she was likely the youngest person there, but everyone around her shared a similar air of ennui that YN had long grown to associate with doctor’s offices. Slowly she stood up following the nurse as she guided her through what appeared to be an endless labyrinth of doors. After stopping abruptly the nurse turns around and smiles though it’s evidently rehearsed. “Don’t be nervous, Dr. Kang is one of the best doctors here.” How many times hadn’t she heard that before? YN offers the nurse a smile making sure it is wide enough to crinkle the corners of her eyes. That seems to suffice the woman enough for her to finally knock on the door.

Dr. Kang Daniel was certainly young for his profession, but that provided some relief for YN. It would be nice not to spend almost an hour with someone that looked to have been around when Freud was. “Please take a seat.” He gestures over to a chair in front of the desk and YN notices there is little decoration around the room. It’s also missing a clock, but thankfully she sees Kang is wearing one. YN notes the time: 5:36 pm. Forty-three more minutes to go. 

“I apologize that we’re going to have to go through all of this, but its procedure.” He lightly shakes the file in his hand. Most doctors operated digitally now, so that stood out.

“It’s fine.”

“Let’s get to it then. Why are you here YN?”

They went over the usual things and YN was quickly growing a bit bored, her eyes danced around the room as she did find it very strange that it seemed so vacant for a personal office. “Bored?” Her eyes snapped back to his, Kang wearing an unreadable expression. “I apologize for the lack of decor. I recently moved offices, so this will be my last day here.” YN frowned, “I thought I was to be your new patient.” Kang nods, “Yes, but our sessions will be held in my consultation. It’s closer to downtown so you might save yourself the trip.” How does he know I live closer to downtown? Perhaps seeing the further furrowing of her brow Kang speaks once more. “Unless you live far from downtown?” YN shakes her head feeling the tension leave her body just a bit.

Slowly he closes the file and leans forward, resting on his elbows. “I know this isn’t the most comfortable environment. I also know how jarring transfers can be and that they can halt any sort of process…” YN zones out of the conversation having heard it a thousand times since she was eleven years old. The rambling tends to have the same conclusion every single time.

‘I want us to be friends.’

“I want us to be friends or something similar. I know there are some barriers and guidelines in our relationship, but don’t think they aren’t malleable. I’m here if you need me.” 

YN mulls over what might serve as an appropriate response, aware that taking too long might ruin the pseudo-friendly atmosphere and she doesn’t want to have any more problems with psychiatrists. “Thank you, Dr. Kang. I’m sorry I’m just a bit nervous.” The sheepish smile that follows afterward is enough to convince Kang. Perhaps he isn’t a bad man but YN has encountered his type far too often: those striving to make a difference. Always trying to make things better. Always trying to help. 

“No one will help us, YN. No one cares about us.”

“So let’s move onto your family YN -”

“Actually I wanted to ask you about my medication.” Kang seemed surprised at her interruption but encouraged her to continue. “Dr. Lee only gave me enough medication to last the transfer, so I’m almost out.”

“That won’t be a problem. I’ll be taking you off the medication for a short time anyway.” What? Kang’s attention was now on his computer, not bothering to look at YN in the eye. “I need to run some tests and in order to do that your system has to be clean.” 

YN hadn’t been off her medication for a long time. Sure the dosage varied depending on the treatment, but going completely off was unheard of. Especially so soon. “Don’t worry,” Kang smiled. “There shouldn’t be any potential side effects and if there is I’ll give you my private number. In case of emergencies.” What was supposed to be a soothing smile only unnerved YN even more. YN nodded once more though she felt her anxiety begin to swell up in her stomach. Her heart rate speeding up, but YN knew a panic attack wouldn’t do her any favors. It would make her look like an addict and they would lock her up for sure. It’s only a matter of time. Now that the issue had been cleared Kang cleared his throat, “Now what I was saying about your family -” 

YN stood up abruptly thankful the minute hand had finally landed one above the four. “It’s 6:19 our time is up.” She gestures towards his wristwatch and an annoyed look masks his face before it went just as quickly as it came. “It appears so.” His hand covers the watch in a motion that could hardly be described as casual. Kang waves her off, “It was a pleasure meeting you, YN. I’ll schedule the tests for Friday and I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“In other news….updates...gang violence…”

YN wandered through the aisles looking for inspiration or something to satisfy her cravings. In her hand lay open her phone just so she wouldn’t have to keep making eye contact with the older woman behind the cash register. The employee peered at her as if YN was one of the dangerous criminals the news anchors droned on about.  YN keeps looking over the message her social worker sent her: you have to be there at least a month before I could put in a transfer request. When YN bent down to read the label, she felt the woman lean over the counter. YN rolled her eyes and picked up the packaged bulgogi before grabbing a sports drink and a small fruit salad.

Once she saw YN was an actual paying customer, not a shoplifter, the woman’s expression changed. Her smile far too gleeful for this time of night. “Will that be all, dear?” Her voice too high to be sincere. Nonetheless, YN nods and forces a polite smile on her face. Even wishes the woman a safe night for extra measure. Before YN could walk out of the store, the woman responds with her own form of goodnight. “I would be careful walking home tonight. There’s been a lot of crime recently.”

 It is a bit cruel that the second YN exits the store and turns a corner someone begins to follow her. She becomes aware of it instantly, her senses having been trained from a young age to pick up on the small imperceptible changes. Instinct was not to be ignored. The wind became thicker and the streets a little too quiet. YN wouldn’t look up, but if she did, surely there would be storm clouds looming. Don’t acknowledge him. Just keep walking. People like that enjoyed prey. The game. No one wanted to face off against a predator being one. Unless this was a different kind of predator then YN really ought to call the police. For once she was thankful for the pocketknife stored in the inner pocket of her jacket but disappointed that her pepper spray remained stashed in her bag.

Her groceries hung heavy on her arm, but YN was too far from home to attempt to sprint. So she would have to wait it out, YN could take a few punches. Surely whoever it was would become tired after following her for too long. By the time YN had walked ten blocks, she realized that was not the case. The person was still behind her, though there wasn’t much that she could tell much about the person. They were likely taller and considering their persistence they were a threat.

YN could pick up distantly on the booming bass that likely came from one of the many clubs scattered downtown. It meant she was near her house, that she could likely get home. The houses looked familiar she was probably not too far from home. Hope began to swell in her chest until another idea dawned on her. That’s exactly what they want. If the person had followed her this far they wanted to see where she lived. Abruptly YN turned left towards the direction of the main street, she was likely in a back alley of some sort but the bass only got louder so that helped propel her forward.

Towards the center of the alley, YN saw three figures huddled over on the ground. She was too far off to hear what they were saying, but based on their movements it seemed mocking in nature. YN wasn’t able to decipher what was occurring until it was far too late. A man is wriggling on the ground while bleeding profusely from the side of his head while two men stand above him. Blood is spattered on both walls and their clothes are covered in it. There no longer was a presence behind her the real danger now lay in front. In the form of a tall raven-haired man and a slightly shorter blonde - the latter of which YN made eye contact with.

YN bolts down the alleyway in the opposite direction aware that the blonde is hot on her tails. As she rounds a corner she feels him catching up to her right on her before he abruptly slows down. He doesn’t want the chase to end.

56...57...58…

YN counts the streets aware she’s nearing her apartment but isn’t about to lead him straight to her doorstep. In her peripheral, she sees one of the neighboring buildings which contains a doorman stationed there twenty-four hours. YN uses the last bit of her strength to push through the glass doors tumbling at the steps, but the doorman is there to catch her. “Miss, is everything alright?” YN turns around to catch a glimpse, but there’s no one behind her. Though she does note something disappointing: her groceries are gone.

When YN unlocked her apartment door she felt this immediate wave of tranquility hit her. It had taken a while to convince the doorman not to contact the police, she didn't want to be in bigger trouble, but the man had finally agreed after stating he would walk her back home. Once in the lobby, she took the stairs just to be safe. Quickly, she turned around securing all three locks, and headed straight for the bathroom. YN never understood the sentiment behind showers helping unwind, then again she never spent enough time under the water to allow for that. Baths weren't a treat - they were a utility. Like most utilities YN didn't have a lot of available growing up, so she learned to adapt.

Still, it was long enough to let her mind wander to everything that had occurred today. YN wasn't quite sure about how she felt about Dr. Kang, he unnerved her in a way other doctor's hadn't before. Then there was the issue regarding her medication: YN hadn't been unmedicated since she was eleven and that was a time she didn't want to go back to. Then there was the person that may have followed her and the man that definitely did. My head hurts. She rinsed herself and shut the water off, drying herself quickly with her towel. The chase had been real, too real, everything in YN's body had reacted instinctively once she met his eyes. Those dark eyes that had pierced into hers. The blonde man wasn't just chasing YN - he was hunting her down.

But what about the other person? YN hadn’t seen them, but she had felt them trailing after her. However, why would someone do that and especially for so long? The blonde man had only really tracked YN down for two blocks, but even then it felt shorter. The other person simply observed her. Didn’t do anything. Was there even someone there? YN glanced up, catching her reflection in the foggy mirror. The mist had dispersed in some sections, but not others so the only thing she could see were parts of her face. Faltering in her step, she walked forward and pulled the mirror open. Grabbing the white-labeled bottle with her name printed on it.

Habin sits atop the bathroom sink balancing himself. One of his hands gripping tightly to the side to not slip. This has to be done quickly before she gets back from the store. YN holds his legs or attempts to, while Habin finally manages to grab the bottle. “Is it this one?” He sticks his hand out for YN to see. The young girl squints her eyes, “Are they blue and little?” Hanbin looks through the orange tint of the bottle before nodding. “I think so.”

“Do they smell like fruits?”

“I can’t open the bottle YN. I don’t know if they smell like fruit.”

YN nods and Habin notes how hollowed out her face has become. Once round and plump, full of life, now looks as frail as his. “I think those are the ones.” Habin closes the medicine cabinet and cautiously jumps off, the medicine bottle still tight in his hands. “Why does she give them to you?” YN can note the confusion in her brother’s face, she was confused before too. “She says I need them to go to sleep. They help me sleep.” Habin stays quiet before in the blink of an eye he throws the pill bottle against the wall, breaking the seal causing all the pills to spill all over the floor.

“Bin why did you do that?! I need -”

“No! You don’t need anything YN. You aren’t sick, she's just lying to you!” Habin screamed in frustration. He could see the tears starting to well up in YN’s eyes and he felt regret pool in his stomach. “Please YN. You aren’t sick. We aren’t sick. Okay?”

YN took a deep breath, the way her brother had shown her would help stop the tears, the inside of her cheek was bitten harshly until her throat cleared up. “Okay.”

YN looks at the white bottle in her hand considering taking the medicine despite what Kang said. It would just be one more. Just to calm her down. To make sure that what happened tonight wasn't a side effect of going off so quickly. Her hand twisted the bottle cap, but instead of grabbing one and placing it in her mouth, she headed towards the toilet flushing them all away. Though she might not agree with his treatment plans Dr.Kang was a professional and surely knew more than she did. Plus, YN couldn't afford to be transferred again; her social worker might drop her altogether. It’s just until the blood work is completed.

“Unfortunately Miss YN, we won’t be able to conduct any tests until your insurance approves it.”

YN paces around her apartment, phone in hand. “I understand but my doctor ordered it. It’s necessary in order for him to treat me.”

“It appears that the necessary paperwork hasn’t been sent over to the insurance company. At least not enough to justify the exams. You can go through with them, but it will have to be out of pocket.”

YN sighs, running her hand through her hair as the nurse lists off the prices for each exam. A knock disrupts her causing YN to glance at the door questioningly, no one in her building would ever knock on her door. Looking through the peephole, she sees the manager and doesn't know if that makes her relieved or tenser. "I'm sorry can you just give me a minute?" YN speaks to the phone and mutes it, just to be safe. Upon opening the door, a brown bag is shoved in her face.

“Sorry to interrupt dear, some boy left this for you downstairs.”

Just as quickly as he came, the manager leaves. YN quickly shuts the door and locks it, before hanging up the call. The bag looks simple enough though YN hadn’t ordered anything in the past couple of days. Cautiously she opens it and the horror that spreads through her body is instantaneous. In the bag are her groceries from last night, but with minor changes: The red energy drink is now blue, the fruit salad is replaced with regular salad, and instead of bulgogi it is kimchi now. Though it isn’t the food that upsets YN, but rather the pink sticky note placed on top.

To replace everything you lost ;)

Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Staying locked inside her apartment for the following days seemed like a smart choice. There was someone out there who knew where she lived. What she looked like. YN was used to being preyed upon, but this was a different game. Not one she was accustomed to. There were enough faded white lines and healed over bones to evidence that she was a survivor. That time and time again YN had faced against monsters and gotten out alive. The thing that terrified her about this monster - was how different he was. She kept waiting for the tall blonde man to show up one night: looming over her whilst she slept, crouching in a dark corner of the room. Lurking behind the shower curtain.

YN wasn’t able to sleep, didn’t bathe, and had thrice rearranged the room so there was no furniture to hide behind. Her paranoia was through the roof and it didn’t help that it had been the first time YN was off her medication for an extended amount of time. Which was bound to be causing more problems than she was aware of, or would like to acknowledge. The cycle continued until on her fourth day, sick of the grime, YN picked up the phone and dialed Dr.Kang’s office. Hoping to resolve the issue and be back on medication as soon as possible.

“Unfortunately, Dr. Kang isn’t in the office today. However, I can schedule a house call”

She hung up, not even bothering to respond to the secretary on the other line. If YN would have allowed herself a moment to feel anything except for fear - sympathy would've been felt for the probably nice young woman she had just hung up on. Maybe I can just sleep until my next appointment. Sleep it all away. So YN crawled into her bed, the covers lie somewhere on the floor. Exhaustion taking over as she drifted off to sleep.

It should've been easier to tell her childhood room apart from all the ones she had before. It had the most personality; if stickers on the wall, old pencil marks, and deteriorating plaster counted. Most of them hadn't even been done by her, but rather Habin in time before her. It created a sense of normalcy in YN's life that didn't exist elsewhere. Of course, her safe haven didn't last long, the hole in the wall right near the bed frame was proof enough. YN couldn't remember the last time she had dreamt, the medication helped with the nightmares, now she stood curled in a ball in the center of the room. The way she would always get once she heard the heavy footsteps approach the hallway.

YN had long learned to tell the different patter of the weathered old sneakers. Heavy stomps that scraped against the wood meant she was going to be screamed at. Rhythmic ones that were heavier on the heel, than the toes meant they might get dinner. While footsteps that dragged meant YN would be getting ignored. It was the ones she didn't hear. When the hallway was so quiet that all YN could hear was the sound of her breathing and the fear rushing through her tiny body - those were the steps she feared. Those were typically followed by the gentle, yet suspenseful pushing of her bedroom door. It didn't have a knob. There was no escape.

YN expected to peer up and see the tall large figure that always tormented her. The thick thighs, rounded hips, a bulbous stomach that spoke of all the meals she'd had - all the ones her children hadn't - and her face. It was much like YN's though much more feminine, older, and eyes devoid of life. It had always stood out to YN when she was a child, though she was certain that if she were to look in a mirror now YN would be the spitting image of her mother. Instead of her birth giver stood a man.

His face was angular, rounded cheeks, and sharp eyes highlighted by thick brows. His lips appeared full as if they were meant for bright large smiles, but it was obvious from the man’s expression he rarely did. There was something strangely familiar about him. An amalgamation of someone she knew and her own imagination, filling in the blank spaces. He looked like her, yet not at all. Tears welled in her eyes, “Bin?” Then he morphed. Now slightly taller, more weight to his frame. A rounded face with hooded eyes, the corner of his lips were tilted upwards in a way that was full of mirth. Dr. Kang faded as quickly as he came.

Now all she saw was a silhouette. Despite being mostly obscured, she could at least tell it was a man. He was lean yet muscular. His body was sharply defined in a way that seemed deliberate. Facial features were obscured, but YN was certain he was glaring at her in a way that caused goosebumps to rise all over her body. Plump pink lips parted moving slowly, tauntingly, but no sound exited them. Only by the smirk formed afterward could she tell their salacious nature. He stepped forward drawing closer to her, but the way he moved was inhumane. It wasn't a walk. But a predator's crawl towards her. Now he was finally in the light, entirely visible but all YN could focus on was the blonde mop of hair atop his head. When he pounced, she screamed.

YN awoke covered in sweat, her hair matted against her forehead and neck. She could still taste the saltiness of her tears and when she finally managed to breathe a sob tore out. Get out! Get out! Get out! If she remained locked inside her apartment for one more second, YN was going to reach her breaking point. Quickly she hopped in the shower before throwing on the first thing she saw and grabbing her wallet. YN didn’t know where she was headed, but her body acted on its own. Locking the apartment door before racing towards the stairs, dashing down all seven floors with little care if she tripped. Perhaps a silent part of her wished she did, it would put her out of her misery.

The lobby of her apartment building, if it could even be called that, was always empty. Never a soul in sight to guard the door, even though YN was sure part of her rent went towards security. Not to mention the intercom system, which allowed people to be buzzed in, hadn't worked for several weeks. It was something she was always acutely aware of but pushed towards the back of her mind. Wouldn't do her any favors to obsess over something she had no control over. Now walking through the desolate lobby out into the night - it was all she could think about. He was all she could think about.

YN took a deep breath and opened the glass doors sneakily peeking towards the sides and being thankful when she noted nothing great. Now where to? She wouldn't go very far nor somewhere unknown. It was reckless to be out so late and would be a death wish to try and enter city life. Gang violence was on the rise and YN didn't fancy herself prepared to face off against someone. So, YN went to the one place that felt familiar no matter what. The convenience store was a fifteen-minute walk, but she took the bus. The original plan was to sit towards the back, where she could see everything, but it wasn't empty. An elderly woman, far too frail-looking to be out this late, sat in the center. Whilst three boys huddled over sat in the back, they must have felt her eyes on them. As one of them - the one in the black beanie - stopped his conversation and turned slightly. Before they could make eye contact YN looked away and sat down.

“Which one do you want?” Habin asked as they stared at the ice cream truck. He had counted the cents twice making sure they had enough. “Hm,” YN eye’s glanced all over the various images glued onto the truck. She already knew what she wanted but had long learned that taking your time was important - not too much though. “Mint choco.” Habin grimaced, disgust evident on his face. “Come on YN. We have to share it. Why can’t we get something I like for a change?” He whined, it was only ice cream but it was the only food Habin was likely to have all day. “Okay, let’s get chocolate then.” YN didn’t really care, she wasn’t planning on eating. Habin had sacrificed enough meals to feed her, an ice cream was the least she could do.

As she steps into the cold building, a small bell chimed to signal her entrance, alerting a young employee near the cashier. 

“Welcome!” The boy smiles, wide and welcoming, handing her a basket,

YN didn’t respond. She walks towards the back, looking for some of her usual snacks, and before long, her basket was filled to the brim with all sorts of colorful foods, and she headed towards the till to pay, grimacing under the weight pulling at her arm. As she pulls out her purse, a soft chime catches her attention, making her glance at the door quickly, before trailing her eyes back. A familiar head of blonde flashes in her mind immediately, and despite herself, she found herself clenching her purse tightly, feeling her palms become clammy with sweat. What were the odds..?

“Is that all?” the cheery voice of the employee breaks her out of her trance as she nods back firmly, unable to push aside the nervous feeling from seeing the person walk in. Quickly weighing the options as she sees him bag all her groceries, she forces the question out before she can stop herself.

“Could you...walk me to the bus station?” Her voice was awkward and tight from keeping quiet most of the day, and she internally winced at the confused expression the other gave her.

“Are you..” he pauses, eyeing her carefully, “is someone trying to hurt you?” 

YN doesn’t know what to say. Could she tell him what she saw? Fortunately, she didn’t have to reply. The boy - Kai, as it said on his tag - seemed to assume her pause was a yes. Excusing himself, he disappears behind the counter, and within a moment, hushed voices coming from there. Something was unnerving about standing there alone with the blonde, chilling her to the bone, knowing she was faced away and he could pounce at any moment. As soon as the terrifying thoughts crept in, Kai stepped back out. He takes her bag and silently leads her out the glass doors, warm, still air hitting her face the minute she left the building. They walk side by side silently, and YN could only count her steps as she got closer and closer to the station.

Her steps quicken when she sees the familiar structure, tall gray pillars, and a few large buses waiting. Kai keeps up with her as well, not bothered by the bag that seemed to drag her down, looking around carefully. 

“Thank you.”

He smiles, what she initially assumed to be his practiced ‘customer service’ smile seemed a little more genuine now. Or maybe he was just very good at it - she wasn’t sure. She takes back the plastic bag, letting herself get used to the additional weight before turning to board the bus. 

“Have a safe trip home!” The boy calls out, making her look back.

YN was expecting to see him with his blinding smile, but something eerier catches her eye. The young employee was standing a few steps away from her, and behind him, dangerously close, was the blonde man from before. Her mouth goes dry as she notices his dark gaze fixated on her hand that held the railing inside, something else in them as he cocked an eyebrow. He almost looked as if he was questioning her, asking what she would do now that he was close, much closer, and positioned to attack the boy. Realizing he must have followed her all the way, she felt her heart rate pick up as she found herself rapidly staring between Kai and the perpetrator, the choices dawning on her. She had to choose to leave Kai behind, or possibly die with him. 

She felt her heart drop at the calm expression on the boy's face, not noticing the danger he was in, she knew he was young, but watching him now, she only just realized how young. He was so young, so innocent, with a whole life ahead of him - but because of some unfortunate circumstance, an unforeseeable future, he would have to throw everything away. 

But if she stayed for him, so would she. She would have to give up everything she had struggled for, while in any circumstance, the blonde would kill Kai, regardless of whether she chose to stay or not. However, she could spare her own life. She couldn’t convince Kai to get on with her without alarming the man, but she could save her own life. After everything she had gone through, trouble was the last thing YN needed. Even if it meant someone else had to suffer alone, she had to stay safe. She found herself holding back hot tears as she quickly ducked into a lonely seat, refusing to look back, still clenching the cheap plastic in one hand and forcing herself not to look back as the tears freely slid down her cheeks. 

‘Helping people only gets you into trouble. You do whatever it takes to survive.’

           “They tell me you’ve missed the appointment I had set up.”

           YN is noticeably tense as she sits in the blue velvet mid-century, her nails digging into the denim fabric of her jeans. “The insurance wasn’t notified,” her tone was clipped. Lower with a slight tremble to it as if it were about to break, but never really did. “I also needed a referral.” Dr. Kang frowned, glancing back down at the file before looking at YN questioningly. “That’s strange. I told my secretary to handle all the paperwork. I even told Joy to hand you the referral.” Seeing the confused expression on his patient’s face, he shrugged. “My apologies, Joy must have forgotten.” The smile he shoots her is sincere, or at least looks so, YN has no reason to doubt him any further on this matter.

Her posture slackens somewhat but given everything that has happened these past few days she finds it difficult to truly relax. YN feels that she is tethering at the edge of a breakdown, but that if she were to fall it would only make her circumstances worsen. There is something that has been bothering her though, how pacified everything has been as of late. The blonde man knew where she lived, he'd likely overheard her name as well, yet nothing had happened. Even Kang, with his cold calculating eyes, had not commented on her odd behavior the last session or how worse she had seemed to get after only being off her medication for a week. Why can’t I figure them out?

           “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to assign you any new medication until I have the results from the bloodwork. However, I do want to know how you’ve been feeling lately.” Kang crossed his legs, leaning forward in his seat. “Have you been experiencing any side effects or withdrawals? Anything I should know about?”

There was a glint in his eyes as he spoke, one that warned YN that he may know more than he lets on. As if the man sitting in front of her was single-handedly responsible for everything that had occurred to her recently. "Normal things…" I am being stalked by a homicidal maniac. “Migraines, low blood pressure…” I keep having vivid flashbacks that only serve to increase my paranoia. “Sometimes I dissociate a bit.” Most importantly, doctor, I had a nightmare where you were about to kill me. “And trouble sleeping.” YN looked towards the ceiling, feigning as if she were in deep thought. “I think that’s it.”

Kang Daniel looked affronted as if she had not given a sufficient enough answer. Hadn't given him the answers he wanted. "I see." His eyes darted towards her hands, which had been tightly intertwined on her lap - immediately she relaxes them. When their eyes meet once more she levels with him. YN knows there is no point in engaging with Kang, that is exactly what he wants. To pry. Dig deep. Learn of all her secrets and who knows what else. He won’t win. I’m safe here. YN had suffered too great a loss yesterday, she was determined to win this game.

           “I had time to go over your file YN. There’s a lot to discuss, but I would prefer to dive right in if you don’t mind.”

           “I-”

           “Very well,” She’d upset him. YN wasn’t even truly aware of what she’d specifically done, but it seemed to matter very little. “It states here you’ve been diagnosed with a personality disorder - at quite a young age too.

           “I was ten.” YN’s voice is muted. Her mind blank.

           “Do you agree with this diagnosis?” YN shrugs, her eyes move down to the file. She knows what he’s going to say next. Or she can at least predict it: it typically doesn’t vary. No matter how many times she goes through the same process the words and intentions are the same. It isn’t sincere sentiments, but rather rehearsed lies spewed to make her feel better - as if she ever could. No, YN is broken. No fixing her up.

           “I don’t. I think you were misdiagnosed.” YN’s eyes widen as they shoot back up to meet Kang’s. “The main reasoning behind this is because of your apparent lack of empathy, but that isn’t true either is it, YN?” Her mouth felt dry, she struggled to swallow the saliva building up. There was a build-up of breath in her lungs which was starting to become painful and she felt her throat tighten. “It’s a survival tactic. An effective one at that - if I may be honest.” So many thoughts were rushing to the forefront of YN’s head. So many memories. Stop. She wanted to scream. Please stop! She felt like she was going to throw up. Kang bent over, his face so close to YN's that she could see how dilated his pupil was: only leaving a sliver of his iris shines through.

Why is he doing this?!

“You feel something YN. It’s okay to feel things. You aren’t with your mother anymore anymore. You aren’t with your brother anymore. You’re safe and I know the next time something happens you’ll do the right thing.”

YN’s eyes were red, brimming with unshed tears as Kang’s words bounced around her head. “Dr. Kang -” She chokes, a sob threatening to escape, but the man doesn’t allow her to finish. “Our time is up. Pick up your referral at Joy’s desk. I will see you on our next appointment.” The smile given is full of sadistic glee.

YN didn’t know how long she had spent wandering around the city. Last she knew she had passed the bus stop and convenience store from last night. If she were smart YN would’ve gone back to her apartment. She didn’t want to though, not trusting herself to be alone. It had been mid-afternoon when she had left Kang’s office. Now it was pitch black with only a few people walking down the streets and cars passing by. Her phone was tucked away in her bag, YN couldn’t muster up enough energy to reach for it to know her location. The tears she shed had long ago dried, though their evidence remained clear to see on her face due to the streak marks and reddened nose.

Several voices were speaking to her, memories, all pulling her in different directions. One by one, YN blocked them out until only three remained. Her brother’s: “You’re not sick.” Dr. Kang’s: “You’ll do the right thing.” Lastly, the faintest one of all - hers: "What do I do?" She had muttered it without realizing it. A cry for help that traveled through the wind, searching for an answer or a sign. She would be granted one.

The scream was so loud, it tore straight through the foggy haze that had settled in her mind and YN found herself frozen in place. Glancing upwards, she noted that a few feet away to the left was an alleyway. That was it, wasn’t it? Yet her feet wouldn’t move. Her brother’s voice echoed so loudly that it barely allowed her to breathe much less move. Until, a stronger, much more powerful one broke through - “It’s okay to feel things...I know you’ll do the right thing.” Her feet were moving before YN had even a second to dwell on her decision. The alleyway was, deceptively long, but YN could see several silhouettes just from the entrance. Quickly she dug her hand into her bag and pulled out her phone, dialing emergency services but hovering over the call button. YN didn't even know where exactly she was - nor did she know what was going on either. It wouldn't do well to just rush in, thankfully about ten feet inlay a giant dumpster which YN crouched behind.  

Another scream echoed off the brick walls, a cacophony of laughter followed it. There’s more than one. YN had hoped it was a robbery or something simple, now she realized just how in over her head she may be. You can still walk away YN. Just walk away. Cautiously YN moved to sneak a glance. There was a singular lamp attached to one of the buildings that illuminated most of the alley. The faint light didn't allow her to make out specific features, but it was enough for her to bear witness to the disturbing scene. Seven men were standing all loosely crowded around a young couple: a man and woman whose bodies were severely bruised and beaten. The man's skull was cracked open with blood profusely leaking from the side of his head. Several teeth were scattered on the ground and his hand was tightened around his abdomen which seemed to have been cut as well. The woman beside him had most of her clothing ripped and large bruises on her side, an indicator of broken ribs. Her eyes moved deliriously as she muttered to herself.

YN’s attention lay entirely on the victims until she witnessed a crowbar fly through the air and land on the man’s leg, with a sickening ‘crack’ that had YN feeling nauseous. The man was too out of it to do anything but let out a small howl of pain. Her previous assumption had been right, there were seven men: all standing there with blood-stained clothes and mocking the man. There was something familiar about them, but YN couldn’t pinpoint what. All of them cheered as the man’s now dead body slumped to the side. Her phone had been long forgotten, YN observed everything now with a morbid fascination. Taking advantage of the perpetrator’s lack of attention the woman stood up slowly and bolted, her heels clicking loudly on the pavement and alerting them their prey had gotten away.

None of them moved - they simply observed her and YN watched in shock. Why aren’t they chasing her? Would they actually… By now the woman was only a few feet away from the entrance, she passed by YN and must've caught sight of YN's hunched over the figure for the woman's head snapped towards her. Causing both women to miss the figure dashing in their direction until it was too late. The woman was harshly tackled to the ground, her head bouncing off the pavement in sickening motion. There is a glint of something in his hand before a dagger plunges into the young girl's body multiple times. In a desperate move, she extends her hand reaching out towards YN begging for help but YN remains frozen. Eyes wide and teary as she cowers as close as she can to the wall, shaking her head she begs the woman not to speak. Begs her not to draw the perps attention. Please don’t!

“Please help me.”

The perpetrators head snaps towards YN and she finally sees him. He's tall, lean figure, plump lips, cat eyes, and ruffled blonde hair. The blood splattered across his face revealed the dark truth behind his angelic features. His dark hooded eyes trail across YN's body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. The blonde man looks like a predator savoring its next meal. Before he can pounce YN takes off running, unfortunately, he captures her with ease. Caging her body against his own, pillowy lips part and it dawns on YN she has never heard him speak before.

“Caught you.”

Just like that their game has come to an end, surely YN’s life will too. The two of them are so enraptured in each other, they don’t notice the figure slowly standing up and grabbing the abandoned knife on the floor. Not until the blonde man’s body sags slightly and YN notices the woman standing behind them. Don’t. She wants to say, furious that the woman wouldn’t have run away - escaped when she had the chance. For YN couldn’t bear another dead body on her subconscious. The blonde man turned around with pure rage steaming off his body, upset that his prey would dare to fight back. His arms gripped her head and with the slightest flick of his wrist, he broke the girl’s neck. When he turned back around to face his prize, he was shocked to find her expressionless staring at the corpse right in front of her.

YN came to a disturbing conclusion: She wouldn’t have died if she hadn’t helped me. As she once again made eye contact with the monster before her, all YN could see was her reflection in his eyes. Hanbin was right.

The man stepped forward and YN stepped back, crashing into the wall. His hands gripped at her sides, nails digging into her flesh harshly. He was formulating a plan, thinking about how best to kill her - YN could see it. It seems the universe had decided to take pity on her, or further condemn her, for just as his eyes were beginning to light up, the rest of the group made their presence known. “Jimin let’s go. The fun’s over.” Jimin? There was something familiar about that name.

“Funs not over yet, boys.” As if she weighed nothing, Jimin grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. YN struggled against him, aware that if she couldn’t handle one man, there was no way she could survive seven. “I finally found my pet.” What? When Jimin finally put her down, his arms encased her again showing her off to his friends as if she was some shiny new toy, they could look at but not touch. As YN glanced at them she found she recognized some of them, they’re from the bus. At that moment she realized that death had been following YN for a long time and even if she hadn't stepped into the alleyway tonight, their paths would have crossed eventually.  

“Ah, so you’re the girl Jimin’s been obsessed with.” The tall tan one with curly dark hair spoke, his low baritone voice was mocking in nature.

“She’s not that pretty.” muttered another one, with rounded eyes and a tall nose.

“Now, come on kookie. Don’t be mean, she’s a lot prettier than what we’re used to.” The third man’s tone was higher pitched, lips stretched into a heart-shaped smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“What do you think we should do, Namjoon?” spoke the light-haired one dawned in all black. His eyes darting over to the tallest member, his platinum hair shining brightly in the dark alleyway.

When Namjoon spoke it was deliberate and calculated, his eyes boring into YN’s, his words dripping with implication. “We should take this one to go.”

Distantly YN could hear the wailing of sirens rushing towards them before Kookie stepped forward and delivered a right hook to her face, making her lose consciousness.

[noona-clock]

What’s Your Sign?: Aquarius

Genre: Future/Space!AU

Pairing: Yunhyeong x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Words: 6,180

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

Yunhyeong’s eyes blinked open as the soft trilling of his alarm clock began to gently float through the air, and as he did every morning, he forced himself to sit up to decrease the chances he would fall back asleep.

As the alarm began to get slightly louder as the seconds passed by, Yunhyeong cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak the first words he spoke every morning: “Computer, turn off alarm.”

The trilling cut off and the eerie silence of outer space settled in his bedroom.

Honestly, he should be used to the absolute quietude of being in space, but... somehow, he wasn’t. It still put him on edge and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Computer, what’s the weather like on Earth?” he asked as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up, sliding his feet into his slippers.

“Please specify a location,” the computer replied, and even though it was literally a computer, Yunhyeong was pretty sure he detected a hint of sass in its tone.

“All right... how about... Paris?”

“Please specify. There are fifty-three locations on Earth named ‘Paris.’”

Yunhyeong pursed his lips in slight annoyance before retorting, “What’s the weather like in Paris, France?”

“It is currently three degrees Celsius in Paris, France, with a 36% chance of precipitation, 68% humidity, and winds of 14 km/h.”

Well, it certainly didn’t spark any romantic images of the City of Love in his head, but it was interesting to know, at least.

I guess.

“Thank you, Computer,” Yunhyeong murmured as he turned around and bent to make his bed.

He didn’t start every morning asking the computer in his living quarters what the weather was like on a prominent Earth city, but maybe now he would. Maybe he would have to add that into his usual morning routine, right in-between getting out of bed and smoothing his sheets down over his mattress.

I mean, it had been a full two years since he’d lived on this space station, so it was probably time for a small change... right?

As long as the change didn’t get in the way of his research, of course. That’s the whole reason he was out here in the first place, alone on a privately-funded space station: to research and, hopefully, breed new species of plants.

Climate change was (and had been) really taking a toll on Earth, but technology in the last few decades had allowed most, if not all, humans to immigrate to various other planets and space stations in the Alpha quadrant. But living in space and on non-Earth planets meant having to figure out whole new ways to farm and live off the land -- even when there was no actual land.

So, Yunhyeong had been delegated by the government to conduct research and experiments on a fully-equipped space station to try and grow new edible plants.

It sounded boring, yes, but it really wasn’t! I mean -- not for him, at least, because Yunhyeong loved to cook. More than anything, really, he loved cooking.

He just felt at home in the kitchen, and nothing excited him more than experimenting with ingredients and coming up with new recipes. Even if the dish turned out to be basically inedible, he never felt defeated or like he should just give up. On the contrary, cooking energized him! And it felt that much better when he got a recipe right.

Honestly, that’s the only reason Yunhyeong had accepted this position even though it had meant living by himself for... who knows how long? 

He was an outgoing extrovert, but being constantly alone was overshadowed by the fact he was constantly cooking and growing his own ingredients -- and being paid for it!

...Still, though. Sometimes he did have to admit that it would be nice to have some company. Someone with different taste buds who could try his recipes and give real feedback.

When he’d asked his manager why it had to be a solo mission, the reasoning had made sense: adding another person into the mix increased the probability for conflict, and it was pretty vital that Yunhyeong stay focused on his end goal.

Totally understandable.

But that didn’t stop him from daydreaming at night just before he fell asleep.

We... won’t get into that, though. The day had just started, after all!

After making his bed (and, today, hearing about the weather in Paris, France), Yunhyeong ducked into his closet to change into one of his government-issued suits. All of his clothes were basically the same, and while it had bothered him a bit after first moving here, he’d gotten over it pretty quickly. No one else was here to see him, so what did it really matter what he wore? The clothes he’d been given were perfectly fine, and he would have plenty of time to dress a bit more flashily once he returned home.

As he always did, Yunhyeong quickly but thoroughly brushed his teeth after getting dressed, ran a comb through his hair, then set off toward his hydroponics lab.

Once he began his work -- taking cuttings of new plants that were growing, jotting down observations of changes which had happened overnight, experimenting with the sand from a nearby planet and seeing how its cellular structure changed when different liquids were added to it -- he realized that today would be just a typical day. Another day as same as the ones before it.

It had actually been quite silly of him to think that something so trivial as asking about the weather conditions on Earth would somehow have an effect on his day.

Except... it kind of had. Nothing major, of course. He still got his work done as he always did, and he was still incredibly focused. But he also found his mind had been slipping, daydreaming about Paris, France -- especially centuries ago when films were in black and white and men walked around in suits with hats every day. 

Paris back then seemed so romantic, didn’t it? He imagined the whole city had a sort of candlelit glow about it even though there had definitely been electricity at that time. But candlelight made it dreamier and, even though he was a botanist by trade, Yunhyeong was a total sucker for anything dreamy.

(Did this have something to do with the fact that an old girlfriend had once told him he had very dreamy eyes? Perhaps.)

By the time his mid-day meal break rolled around, he’d gotten plenty of work done and made plenty of progress with his modified Thyme plant; he also found that the almost-ancient song “La Vie en Rose” had become stuck in his head.

Since he didn’t have to work for the next hour or so, Yunhyeong asked the computer to play the song through the station’s intercom system.

A warm but immediate thrill emanated through him as he heard the opening notes, and he told himself he would have to play music more often -- any music. He hadn’t realized until just now how lifeless this space station truly was. 

He lived here, but was he really living?

It’s not like he expected this situation to turn into some sort of romantic film where a beautiful stranger happened to be passing by and fell in love with him at first sight. He was level-headed enough to realize that would never happen! 

But he could still have fun, couldn’t he? Off the clock, of course. His job was too important and time-sensitive to risk losing focus because he wanted to have more fun.

No, he could absolutely wait until he’d finished work for the day before turning on some music and letting loose.

Oh, boy, he could just imagine it now: some good music flowing through the intercom -- maybe some Jazz music. A nice glass of wine. And his mother had sent him a very nice pair of silk pajamas recently that he hadn’t yet worn --

...Wow.

He was, apparently, at the age where jazz music, wine, and silk pajamas was considered “fun.”

Wonderful.

But, to be fair! He was in outer space! On a space station! By himself! Growing plants for a living! What other kind of fun could there be?!

It’s not like he could just go out to a restaurant or a club with some friends and --

A sudden and very loud banging interrupted his thoughts, and Yunhyeong was so startled that he almost dropped his glass of water.

His brow furrowed immediately as he took a few steps out of his kitchen, craning his neck past the doorway to look toward the entrance to the station.

The station didn’t really have a “front door,” per se, but for all intents and purposes, someone had just knocked on his front door.

More than knocked, actually. They sounded like they wanted to smash the door right off its hinges!

“Who in the world could that be?” Yunhyeong muttered to himself as he cautiously crept toward the entrance. He hadn’t received word that a supervisor was coming for an evaluation or anything, and he couldn’t imagine someone would come all the way out here for an unannounced visit.

Just as he reached the keypad to unlock the inner door, his mysterious visitor knocked loudly again, though they sounded more desperate this time.

Yunhyeong quickly typed in the code, and after hearing the hiss of the door unlocking, he turned the handle and opened it.

You rushed in as soon as the gap was wide enough, barreling past Yunhyeong and nearly knocking him over.

“Whoa!” he cried, startled and very, very confused. “Who --”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have time to explain,” you answered after you’d just barely come to a halt a few feet away from him. “But the police are probably going to be here soon, and I need you to tell them you don’t know anything, okay? You’ve never seen me before. Where can I hide?”

Yunhyeong stared at you, blinking slowly in astonishment.

...What?

“I -- I’m sorry?” he stammered.

“Where can I hide?” you repeated, your voice hurried but quiet. “Please, I must hide. I’m fairly certain they’ll be here any minute now.”

“...Who?”

“The police! I just --” you hissed, though you stopped yourself short and took a deep breath. “I can explain everything later, I just need somewhere to hide.”

Yunhyeong stared at you some more, and now that you weren’t blabbering on about hiding from the police (seriously?! Hiding from the police?!) he was able to take a few moments and gather up the situation in his head.

You -- a complete and total stranger, of that he was sure -- had just showed up at his space station asking to hide from the police.

...This couldn’t be real. Right?

And what made it even more unbelievable was the fact that you were actually quite beautiful.

If he had to be totally honest, your attractiveness was one of the very first things he’d noticed.

He was an adult male who’d been living entirely alone for an extended period of time, okay?! Can you blame him for noticing that someone was incredibly pleasing to look at?!

But then his thoughts of your looks were interrupted by his thoughts of what you’d said.

You needed somewhere to hide, and even though he absolutely should not let you hide in a government-issued space station... his romantic sensibilities took over.

I mean, hadn’t he just been thinking a very short while ago about a beautiful stranger somehow appearing on the station?! And how he’d never considered that it would actually happen because things like that don’t ever happen in real life?

But it was happening now! A beautiful stranger had somehow appeared on the station!  You were most likely a criminal, and there was a very good chance he would lose his job if anyone ever found out he’d helped you...

But, I mean, come on. You can’t blame him for thinking this was just a tad exciting!

So... yes, he was going to help you! And if you ended up staying here and falling in love with him, then so be it!

“My lab,” he said, nodding toward the door behind you.

You let out a soft breath and murmured a thank you before turning on your heel and darting into the room.

He followed you, pointing out the small storage room where he kept his extra equipment and watching carefully as you rushed over to it.

As soon as the door slid closed behind you, there was yet another knock at the station’s entrance.

Yunhyeong’s eyes widened slightly for two reasons: 1) He hadn’t had any visitors in a very long time, and now, all of a sudden, he was about to have two? 2) You had been eerily correct about the police showing up any minute -- if this was, in fact, the police. 

He wasn’t sure who else it would be, so he made a hasty retreat out of his lab and back toward the entrance.

Again, he quickly typed in the code to open the door, and he had just barely touched the handle before the new visitor -- or visitors -- let themselves in.

“Excuse us, Sir,” said a middle-aged but very fit man in an Intergalactic Police uniform. “I’m very sorry to disturb you, but we’re looking for a wanted criminal and thought we’d tracked her down to this area.”

Yunhyeong gulped, nervous that he wasn’t a good enough liar to help keep your cover. But he would do his best!

“A -- a wanted criminal?” he asked as he knit his eyebrows together in worried confusion. “What -- no, I haven’t seen anyone. It’s just me here. I haven’t had any visitors for... well, quite some time. Or ever, really. I’m doing government research, you see, so I don’t really have time for anything except my work.”

The policeman nodded slowly, and the younger woman in uniform behind him let out a short huff of breath, obviously frustrated their lead hadn’t taken them any closer to catching you.

“Understood,” the woman murmured before adding. “So sorry to bother you, Sir. If you catch word of anything, please contact us as soon as you possibly can. We believe she should be considered armed and dangerous.”

...Excuse me?

Yunhyeong’s mouth fell open slightly, and his brain was starting to yell at him to tell these police officers the truth. He hadn’t seen any weapons on you when you’d come in, and you had certainly seemed more panicked than dangerous... but they were saying quite the opposite!

Except... he hadn’t seen any weapons on you when you’d come in. 

If he remembered correctly, which he had to assume he did since you had just come in a few minutes ago, you weren’t wearing large or baggy clothing, so there really wasn’t any place to hide a weapon -- unless it was a very small weapon. In that case, Yunhyeong felt almost confident that he could manage to take it from you somehow.

Plus, your beauty was definitely clouding his judgement, and he wanted to get the chance to actually talk to you before letting you go and never seeing you again.

So, instead of coming clean and being a useful, helpful citizen, Yunhyeong simply nodded. “Yes, of course,” he assured the officers. “I will keep an eye out.”

The officers turned to leave, but the man stopped before he could turn around all the way.

“Actually, would you mind if we just did a quick search?” he asked in a very polite tone. “Just protocol, of course. Plus, she might have beamed in without you knowing, and we wouldn’t want to leave without knowing for sure you’re not in any danger.”

Yunhyeong raised his eyebrows but then took a step to the side and extended his arm out into the station to allow them inside. “Please, be my guest.”

The female officer headed back toward the kitchen where he’d been putting together his lunch not even ten minutes ago while the male officer basically made a beeline for his lab.

“Ah, that --” Yunhyeong said, following him and peering into his lab over the man’s shoulder. “That’s my lab.”

“What did you say you do again?” the officer asked curiously.

“I’m doing research,” Yunhyeong answered. “Plant research. For the government.”

The officer let out a low hum of understanding and continued to stand there, presumably eyeing his equipment and searching the room for any signs of an intruder.

But the longer he stood there, the more quickly Yunhyeong’s heart began to beat.

Finally, the officer took a step back and turned on his heel to search other areas of the station.

Yunhyeong let out a soft breath as soon as the officer was out of sight then went back to the station entrance to wait for them to finish.

After only about five minutes, both officers met him at the door, thanked him for his cooperation, and wished him a nice day before stepping into the small chamber separating the inside of his station from the void of outer space and beaming themselves out.

Yunhyeong closed the inner door, turning the handle to lock it and letting out an anxious breath. But he didn’t have time to lean back against the door and gather his thoughts because there was currently a wanted criminal hiding in his lab.

He practically ran to the doorway of his lab, grasping the doorframe and calling out, “They’re gone, you can come out.”

A few seconds later, the door to his equipment storage room opened, and you peeked your head out.

“They searched the station and just left,” Yunhyeong explained, his heart fluttering inside his chest upon seeing you again.

You let out a breath and stepped fully into the lab, closing the door quietly behind you. “Thank you,” you murmured as you began to make your way over to him.

“Sure...” he replied expectantly, waiting for you to start explaining the situation.

When you stopped a few feet in front of him, a cautious and bashful smile tugged at your lips. “So...” you started, your voice a bit shaky. “I, uh -- It’s really not as bad as you might be thinking.”

Yunhyeong couldn’t stop from smirking -- just a tiny one. “Well, the police said you’re a wanted criminal who should be considered armed and dangerous, so what I’m thinking is pretty bad.”

Your eyes widened and you held your hands out in front of you, waving them a little to assure Yunhyeong he had it all wrong. “No, no -- I’m not armed, I swear! And definitely not dangerous. Just -- This is going to sound like I’m making it up, but I promise you, I’m not.”

Well, now Yunhyeong was really intrigued. “Go on,” he pressed.

“I... Well, for the last couple of years, I’ve been working on a... project.”

“That doesn’t sound shady at all,” Yunhyeong chuckled.

“I was trying to create a clone,” you explained hurriedly. “Nothing shady, exactly. It’s kind of a long story, but I got a research grant and decided to try cloning but it didn’t turn out like I expected because my clone kind of went rogue and she is the armed and dangerous one. Not me. But the police don’t know it’s a clone, obviously, so they’re looking for me when it’s really all just a big mistake!”

Your story did sound a bit far-fetched, and Yunhyeong shouldn’t have believed it.

But... for some reason... he did. There was just a look in your eyes that told him you were being truthful. A timbre in your voice that emanated sincerity.

So, he believed you. Despite logic telling him he shouldn’t, he did.

One corner of his lips lifted into a half-smile then, and he said, “Well, you’re welcome to stay here for a bit. Are you hungry?”

A look of pure relief washed over your exquisite features, and you held out your hand toward him. “I’m Y/N, by the way. That’s my real name, you can look me up.”

Yunhyeong let out a soft laugh as he shook your hand. “Don’t worry, I believe you. And you’re safe here. I’m Yunhyeong.”

“Thank you, Yunhyeong,” you replied, your hand gripping his firmly. 

But then, suddenly, your grip loosened, and you wavered a bit where you stood.

“Oop!” Yunhyeong uttered as he reached out to steady you. “You all right?”

You grasped onto his forearms, and when you tilted your head to look up at him, he saw your complexion had blanched quite a bit.

“Yes, I --” you murmured. “Sorry, I guess I haven’t eaten in a while, and the adrenaline’s worn off, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, come eat,” he said as he moved to slide one arm around your back and then began leading you toward the kitchen.

You continued to apologize as he helped you down the hallway, and once he’d pulled out a chair at the small table, he assured you there was absolutely nothing to be sorry about.

To be honest, this whole situation was quite thrilling for him. A mistakenly wanted criminal who had almost fainted from hunger? He had never cooked a meal for a mistakenly wanted criminal who had almost fainted from hunger before, but he now felt like this was what he’d been meant to do. Born to do.

I mean, he’d always loved helping and taking care of people, and he certainly loved cooking.

(Plus, you were just so gosh darn beautiful. It was his absolute pleasure to have you in his home and serve you a home-cooked meal!)

He whipped you up the quickest but heartiest thing in his repertoire: a ham sandwich. But his ham sandwich was not just any old ham sandwich. Of course, not! He used only the best mayonnaise, only the best lettuce and tomatoes grown right here on the station, only the best bread he’d baked himself last night, and only the best ham... which was not really the best ham because, living in space, he had to use his food replicator. And he hadn’t yet found one single food that was quite as good when using the replicator. It was fine, but it just didn’t taste exactly the same.

Oh, well. He hoped the rest of the fine ingredients would make up for the slightly less than average ham.

“It’s not much,” he said when he set the plate in front of you just a few minutes later. “But it’ll do the trick.”

“Oh, no, are you kidding? This is wonderful,” you said breathlessly, your eyes widening slightly as you gazed at the sandwich. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been eating the past couple days. This seems like a feast compared to that.”

Yunhyeong couldn’t help himself; after hearing that remark, he pulled out the other chair at his table and slid into it, his brow furrowed with curiosity. He set his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm before asking, “What happened?”

You took a huge bite of sandwich first, closing your eyes with pleasure as you chewed. And then you began your story.

You told him all about how your clone had gone rogue for reasons you still hadn’t figured out. She had replicated weapons and gone on a crime spree, robbing and killing anyone she could get her hands on. You actually got choked up as you told him, and Yunhyeong had to resist the urge to reach out and put his hand over yours.

Of course, you had tried your best to stop her, but that had only made it easier for the police to confuse you for her and make you their target.

Once you’d realized the police were on the hunt for you and not your clone, you’d gone into fight or flight mode -- and you had chosen flight. You’d hidden anywhere you could find, only staying in one place for a few hours.

“How did you end up here?” Yunhyeong asked, taking your empty plate and standing up to make you another sandwich. You’d eaten this one so quickly, and if you really hadn’t eaten much real food over the last few days, there was no doubt you had to be famished.

“Honestly... pure happenstance. I just found a small space station on the map, punched the coordinates into my transporter, and beamed right in.”

A smirk tugged at Yunhyeong’s lips but he turned to start making your sandwich before you had the chance to see.

Pure happenstance. Luck. You hadn’t come here by design; you’d just picked his station and beamed yourself in unknowingly.

“Y’know...” he began as he took two more slices of bread. “It’s funny because I’ve been on this space station by myself for quite a while now, and just this morning I was thinking about some beautiful, random stranger just happening to pass through. But, obviously, I was thinking about how it wouldn’t happen.”

“That,” you said before clearing your throat. “That’s a strange coincidence.”

When Yunhyeong glanced over his shoulder, he saw your expression had turned shy, and it made him feel a little shy. Which was odd because he was rarely ever shy.

“Very,” he murmured in agreement after turning back around and continuing to make your second sandwich.

It was comfortably silent for the next minute or two, the only noises that of Yunhyeong spreading mayonnaise on bread and tearing up the lettuce to fit better on the sandwich. But then, when he turned back around to join you at the table and set the plate in front of you again, you murmured a soft but earnest “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Yunhyeong replied before once again sliding into the chair across from you. “And... you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like.”

You had just picked up the sandwich to take a bite, but upon hearing his words, you paused. Your brow knit together, forming deep wrinkles in your forehead. “Oh, no, I --”

“I think you’d be safer here than anywhere else,” Yunhyeong interrupted gently. “The police have already been here, and there’s no logical reason they would come back here to look for you. At least, not for a while. And maybe we could get this all squared away in the meantime. Find your clone and clear your name.”

You stared at him in slight confusion for a few moments before shaking your head a little and asking, “But... why? Why would you... help me?”

Yunhyeong let out a soft chuckle and lifted his shoulders into a shrug. “I guess... it’s been a long time since I’ve even talked to another person face-to-face. And you’re innocent. I can’t just let you go and risk you getting caught and arrested when you’re only guilty of an experiment gone wrong.”

For a split second, he thought about adding on the fact that you were incredibly nice to look at, and he was becoming overwhelmed with an urge to take care of you. But when he remembered the shy look you’d gotten after he��d just said the word beautiful, he decided against it.

For now, at least.

You slowly put the sandwich back down on the plate, and before Yunhyeong could try to distinguish the expression on your face, you burst into tears.

“Whoa,” Yunhyeong murmured, his head jerking back in surprise. “No, please --”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed, bringing your hands up to cover your eyes and cheeks. “I just -- It’s been difficult the past few days, and I thought --”

Without hesitation, Yunhyeong got out of his chair and crouched down next to you, resting one hand gently on your back and the other on one of your wrists.

“It’s all right,” he assured you in the gentlest voice he could manage.

“I can’t even remember how many times I thought I was going to die,” you admitted, your voice muffled and interrupted by sniffling sobs. “And you have absolutely no reason to help me, but you are, and I’m so relieved, and I just --”

Yunhyeong shushed you, rubbing your back and watching with concern as you began to wipe your cheeks.

You then turned your head and looked over at him, tears still brimming in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you choked out.

Yunhyeong’s lips curved into a smile, and he moved his hand to your shoulder, squeezing you there. “You’re welcome. You’re going to get through this, okay? I can help. I work for the government, so I bet I can get in touch with someone who can straighten this all out.”

You shook your head a bit and gulped down the large lump of emotion obstructing your throat. “But I -- I can’t do anything to repay you --”

“I told you that I’ve been living here on my own for a long time, right?”

You nodded.

“Honestly, having some company is repayment enough. Just... be my friend,” he said with a tiny shrug. “For as long as you’re here, that’s all I ask in return. Be my friend.”

Yunhyeong’s heart burst when he saw the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile, and it began to glow in his chest when you nodded again.

“If you’re going to keep feeding me delicious food, I can definitely be your friend,” you assured him.

“Hey, if it’s delicious food you want, you’ve come to absolutely the right place,” he grinned before squeezing your shoulder one more time and then standing up to let you eat your sandwich in peace. “Listen, I’ve got to get back to work soon, but feel free to look around and make yourself at home. There’s not much, really, but there’s a shower and some extra clothes.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, nodding and wiping away the last of your tears.

As you turned back to the table and began to eat your sandwich, Yunhyeong quickly made one for himself to take back to the lab. Since he’d been interrupted by... this whole situation, he hadn’t been able to actually have anything to eat during his lunch break. But as long as he turned away from the plants and equipment to eat, it should be fine.

“I’ll just be in the lab,” he said after completing his sandwich and heading out toward the hallway. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” you answered just before he stepped through the kitchen doorway. And then you called out, “Thank you again! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this!”

Yunhyeong simply smiled to himself.

Hopefully, he would be able to get back into his work mindset -- at least for a few hours or so. He needed to try his best to get as much work done as possible because he had a sneaking suspicion you were going to become more and more of a distraction the longer you stayed here.

Even though he had been given no parameters as far as work hours when he’d started this position, Yunhyeong had set a schedule for himself to try and keep some semblance of a normal life. He, like most people, needed time to unwind after working all day, but if he had no specific clock out time, it was very possible he would work well into the night.

So, from his very first day on the station, he’d set an alarm for six in the evening so he could force himself to stop working and enjoy his evenings.

And, unsurprisingly, his evenings after work always started off with cooking.

But, unsurprisingly again, this evening was a little different than most.

Or... all. It was different than all of the evenings he’d had on the station thus far. Every single one.

Over the past several hours, he’d only heard your presence on the station a few times. He must’ve been too focused on work to notice much else -- either that or you’d just been incredibly quiet. But, apparently, you’d been up to a lot because when he locked up the lab for the night, he caught sight of you standing by the window in the living room across the hall. Your hair was wet and you were wearing a pair of his pajamas, something that unexpectedly tugged at his heart.

“Hey,” he greeted as he stepped into the room. “I’m all done with --”

He trailed off when you turned around to look at him. Your face had been scrubbed clean, and even though you really didn’t look much different -- if at all -- the sight of you standing there, fresh-faced with damp hair and wearing his pajamas... it made his heart jump up into his throat and his breath catch, for some reason.

Truly, it had been far too long since he’d had any social interaction.

You must have thought he was staring at you for reasons other than that, though, because you bashfully looked down at the pajamas and said, “I wasn’t sure if it was okay -- I can just wear my own clothes if you --”

“No, no,” he interrupted hastily, taking a step closer to you. “No, it’s fine. Sorry. Wear whatever you want, really.”

Your lips curved into a soft grin, and you gestured behind your shoulder with one hand. “I was just admiring the view,” you told him before turning back around to gaze out the window.

Yunhyeong joined you, taking several large steps to come and stand next to you.

He glanced very briefly out at the scenery before him, finding his eyes were of a mind to settle on you instead.

Either he had forgotten just how beautiful you were or the relief of being safe had melted your anxiety and heightened your attractiveness because... wow. The slope of your nose and the curve of your lips were stunning and enticing. Your eyelashes, your cheeks, the way your hair framed your face.

“It’s so beautiful,” you said, your gaze fixed on the stars and planets visible from the window.

Yunhyeong almost laughed because you had voiced aloud his thoughts almost exactly.

“Yes,” he agreed with his eyes still locked on you rather than the outside view. “Yes, it is.”

You continued observing the scenery for a few more moments -- long enough for Yunhyeong to get his wits about him, thankfully, and when you turned to look at him, he was fairly certain it wasn’t obvious he’d been staring at you.

“So,” you stated. “What can I do to help?”

“Well, you’re in luck,” he answered with a grin. “I mean, unless your idea of fun isn’t quite the same as mine... But I was planning on making pasta for dinner and then breaking open some wine, putting on some music -- Jazz, if you’re into it -- and just... relaxing.”

And, now, if you were there, he could actually have a chat. A good, old-fashioned chat.

But... if you liked to create clones in your spare time, then you most likely weren’t the type of person to label that type of evening as ‘fun.’

“That sounds... amazing,” you replied, somewhat breathless.

Oh!

Well!

Color him surprised!

“Yeah?” he asked, trying to tamp down his excitement. “I’ve come up with a pretty great recipe for spaghetti sauce. I can teach you how to make it?”

Your lips curved into a smile, and you nodded quickly. “Yes, please. I would love that.”

As Yunhyeong led you to the kitchen, he found himself already daydreaming about... well, so many things.

Cooking with you. Drinking wine with you. Listening to music with you. Chatting with you. Getting to know you better. Allowing himself to open up to you so you could get to know him better.

Then, of course, daydreams about all that led to daydreams about later on down the road. Cooking with you and sneaking kisses in here and there. Drinking wine and listening to music and snuggling on the couch with you. Chatting with you those really deep chats that only surface when you’re fully and entirely comfortable with someone.

He still hardly knew you, of course, but at this moment... he could imagine himself falling in love with you. And even if that never happened -- or even came close to happening -- just the idea of it was enough.

He wanted it to happen, of course, and he was definitely going to try as long as you were willing.

But, if today had taught him anything, it was to never assume. Never assume things can’t or won’t happen. Never assume that, just because every day previously had been the same, today wouldn’t be different. Anything could happen!

And he knew this had absolutely no bearing on the events of today, but... Yunhyeong planned on asking the computer what the weather was like on Earth more often.

Just for fun.

OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, CANCER, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, SAGITTARIUS, CAPRICORN, PISCES

[pleaserelaxfc]

Mid-week Matches: Week 19.5

I do these write-ups mostly for myself, and I don't think there's many people who even see them, but it would still feel inappropriate to start this week's without first discussing what happened in the league last week. While I have summarized what happened below, if anyone is reading this and hasn't already heard about what has happened, please please go read the original reporting at the Athletic (and if the main article is paywalled, I think I have a couple of guest passes that I can send along if you DM me), as well as follow up reporting at any number of sources - the Washington Post and the New York Times among them.

What has been allowed to happen in the league over many, many years is horrifying. The ways in which teams have protected abusers by getting them out of their immediate environment, while keeping quiet about the reasons why, enabled those abusers to perpetuate their abuse elsewhere in the same league. This is particularly galling in a league where players, who are so often the victims, have so little power - in addition to making very little money, they also have practically no power over their own careers, in terms of moving away from a team where they are either being subjected to abuse or where they could be subject to retaliation if they report on it. It's appalling that it happened in the first place, and it is appalling that so many people with the power to impose consequences simply let it slide.

On Thursday, the Athletic reported that Paul Riley, then the coach of the North Carolina Courage and who had coached for many years in the NWSL and predecessor leagues, had coerced players into having sex with him, had sexually harassed players, had made homophobic and more generally abusive comments towards his players, and had otherwise abused his position of authority routinely over the years. Additionally, the Portland Thorns had been made aware of at least some of the accusations against him when he was the head coach there, had investigated him, and found that there was no evidence of illegal behavior but that he had violated team policy - they sent the NWSL the results of their investigation and released Riley from his position, but did not publicly announce the reasons for doing so, and most NWSL outsiders believed it was due to poor results for the season. Riley was promptly hired by the Western New York Flash, which later became the Courage - the article does not discuss whether the League made any effort to preclude the Flash from making the hire in the first place, whether the Flash ownership had been made aware of Riley's behavior, either by the League or through their own background checks, and what (if any) information the Courage obtained when their purchase of the franchise was effected, but given the existence of the Thorns' report, it seems unlikely that any of the parties were entirely unaware. Several hours after the article was published, the Courage announced that they had fired Riley.

The Athletic's article had reported that earlier this year, when the League implemented an anti-harassment policy for the first time, at least one of the players who had been subjected to some of Riley's worst behavior and who had been involved in the report at the Thorns, Sinead Farrelly, had emailed the League to see whether an investigation had been opened under the new policy, and noting that she had been subject to additional behavior that she had not had the opportunity to discuss at the time. At the time, she received a response that the Thorns investigation was concluded and would not be reopened. However, when the Courage announced Riley's firing, the League released a statement suggesting they were shocked to hear of these allegations and had worked with the Courage to get Riley out. In response to the implication that the League had not been aware of Riley's behavior, Alex Morgan published screenshots of the email exchanges between Farrelly and the League, which rebut any assertion that the League had not been aware (or at least, had not had ample cause and opportunity to make themselves aware) of the abuse. On Friday evening, the Lisa Baird, the Commissioner of the NWSL, as well as Lisa Levine, general counsel of the NWSL, who had been with the League at the time of the Thorns report, resigned following a general outcry at all levels.

On Thursday night, the NWSL Player's Association, which is currently in negotiations regarding a collective bargaining agreement, asked the NWSL to cancel last weekend's games. I'm not sure whether they would have been able to organize a strike if the NWSL had refused - national team players at least are barred from striking in the league - but the NWSL agreed, and those games have been postponed.

Now, for this week - three games will be played on Wednesday, which would have brought all the teams up to 20 games played (originally 21, before last weekend's postponements), except that the Gotham-KC game had to be rescheduled since the minor league baseball team that KC shares its field with made the playoffs and needed the field on the originally-scheduled date.

As things stand:

The Portland Thorns (38 pts) are still at the top of the table, but OL Reign (35) is starting to close in on them a little as well as to separate themselves from the rest of the table, with six points between the Reign and the two teams tied for third place.

On that note, the North Carolina Courage (29) seems to have dropped into the mid-table grouping, which otherwise hasn't changed much - the Chicago Red Stars (29) and the Orlando Pride (28) are still slightly above the Washington Spirit (26), the Houston Dash (26), and NY/NJ Gotham FC (25), with the Dash (based on tiebreaks) and Gotham currently outside playoff position, but games in hand for the lower-positioned teams mean that practically anything can happen within this group.

As of last weekend, KC (11) is officially out of the running for a playoff berth, and while Louisville (17) could technically still pull it off, they are now three full games behind playoff position with only five games remaining in their season.

Current Points/Max Potential:*

Thorns: 38/53

Reign: 35/47

Courage: 29/44

Red Stars: 29/41

Pride: 28/40

Spirit: 26/41

Dash: 26/41

Gotham: 25/43

Louisville: 17/32

KC: 11/26

Potential* end of season, based on overall performance to date:

Top Two: Thorns (48), Reign (42)

Middle Four: Courage (37), Red Stars (35), Pride (34), Gotham (33)

Out of the Playoffs: Dash (33), Spirit (33), Louisville (21), KC (14)

Change from last week: The Red Stars and the Pride have swapped places, but they have been keeping close together for the last several weeks. Otherwise, only the specific numbers have changed.

Potential* end of season, based on recent trends:

Top Two: Thorns (47), Reign (45)

Middle Four: Red Stars (36), Courage (34), Dash (34), Pride (34),

Out of the Playoffs: Spirit (33), Gotham (30), Louisville (18), KC (15)

Change from last week: The exact ordering of the teams in the middle four has been changed, and the expectations for the six teams vying for those four spots have tightened significantly.

Games to be played this Wednesday:

Gotham - Spirit (7:00, CBS Sports)

Courage - Louisville (7:30, Paramount+)

Thorns - Dash (10:00, Paramount+)

Mid-week notes:

First and foremost, Paul Riley of the North Carolina Courage was fired, and the NWSL's commissioner and general counsel both resigned.

It is also now official that Richie Burke of the Washington Spirit has been fired. He is also banned from working with NWSL players in the future. Additionally, the League found that the Spirit did not act in the best interests of the League, and their ownership has been indefinitely suspended from participating in matters of league governance, and has been sent a notice of violation to respond to within fourteen days. (As a side note, I think the Spirit's suspension from League governance is particularly interesting in the context of this week's ousters. I don't think the outcome would have changed, but I do wonder how it would have changed conversations, inside and outside the room.)

In response to a letter from the Spirit players, Steve Baldwin stepped down from his role as CEO and managing partner of the Spirit, leaving Ben Olsen as the head of the organization. This did not sufficiently address the concerns expressed by the players, and they have published an open letter to him, demanding that he sell his interest in the team to Michele Kang.

In connection with the reporting on Paul Riley, it was also revealed (or, confirmed) that Farid Benstiti, who was let go by OL Reign earlier this season, was also "asked to resign" as a result of abusive comments towards players - the Reign had not made that information public until now (although there was widespread speculation due to the fact that he had a history of abusive comments towards players at PSG when he coached there), and, like Riley with the Thorns in 2015, his departure came at a time when the team was significantly underperforming expectations, and could reasonably have been attributed to that.

In happier news, KC has come to an agreement with Sporting Kansas City to use Children's Mercy Park for their regular season games in 2022 - one fewer baseball field!

Notes on the week:

KC have been officially eliminated from playoff contention - with their loss to the Spirit in September, the maximum number of points they could get fell to 26, and with five teams already above that and the two additional teams tied at that number having another game to play between them, there is no way that the playoff threshold will be below 27.

With KC officially eliminated, bottom of the table playoff watch now turns to Louisville - they are already guaranteed to finish behind the Thorns and the Reign. A loss or a draw for Louisville on Wednesday against the Courage would also guarantee that Louisville finishes behind the Courage (in the event of a draw, the Courage has the tiebreak), and a loss for Louisville combined with a win for the Dash would guarantee Louisville to finish behind the Dash at least on tiebreaks (barring a very strange situation with more than two teams in the tiebreak) - while a Louisville loss combined with a Spirit win would also mean Louisville could at best end up tied for points with them, the head-to-head tiebreaker between them is currently even, with one more game to play.

The Thorns were not able to pull off a win against Chicago to officially guarantee themselves a spot in the playoffs in September, but the opportunity is still available to them this week: with a win over the Dash, they would earn 41 points, which is more than is possible for KC, Louisville, or the Pride to achieve, a loss would put the Dash below that threshold as well.

It is again possible that we could have a many-way tie at the end of the week, depending on the results of the various games, this time at 29 points: If the Spirit, Louisville, and the Dash all win, then the Spirit, the Dash, the Courage, and Chicago will all be on 29 points.

I think the Spirit-Gotham game will be the most interesting one of the week, and I'm not just saying that because they are my two favorite teams - it should be the most competitive of the three, and since both teams are on the bubble for the playoffs, the outcome could be important. Assuming last weekend's games do get rescheduled, my guess is that the cutoff for the playoffs will be around 33 points, so the Spirit need at least two wins and a draw in their remaining five games (three wins would get them to 35 points, which will almost certainly be safe), and Gotham need three wins out of their remaining six games. With two games against Louisville and one against KC remaining, in addition to one each against the Pride and the Courage, this is probably not a must-win for Gotham (although a win would probably put them in fairly comfortable position for the playoffs, and they will want a result just to maintain some momentum coming off of their first win in eight games); for the Spirit, with two of their five games being against the Courage and the Reign, and the other two against Louisville and the Dash, this isn't a must-win per se for the Spirit either, but it's much closer for them than for Gotham, and they will at least want to pick up a point here. Another factor of interest is the previous game between the two: Sam Staab got very controversially red-carded less than ten minutes into their only other meeting of the season, and while Washington kept it close, Gotham ultimately won 3-2. The League overturned the red card after the game, but there was nothing to be done about the result for the team, which was surely impacted - the Spirit will be looking for a win here if for no other reason than to make up for their previous (undeserved) defeat.

The Courage-Louisville game looks a little more straightforward on paper - Louisville is one of the bottom two teams in the league, and the Courage were very comfortably in the top two until very recently. However, although Louisville is on a seven-game winless streak of their own, the Courage have only scored once in their last four games (resulting in two draws and two losses), which is extremely unusual. Using the same 33-point threshold, the Courage only need a win and a draw in five games, and with only one of those five coming against a top-two team, they can afford to drop points here, but it will certainly be one of their easier opportunities, and a loss (or even a draw) will give other bubble teams a bit of confidence.

The Thorns will also be expected to win fairly handily over the Dash, although a loss in their last game against Chicago have them looking mortal again, and the Dash can come up with some unexpected results when their players are on top of their game. This isn't really a must-win for the Dash (although last weekend's rescheduled game against KC would have been), but they do have a fairly challenging schedule going forward, with this game and another against the Thorns, as well as one against the Courage in between, and they will need to pick up at least one point from the three - and that's assuming they can win outright in their other two games, against KC and the Spirit.

*These are potentials based on, respectively, taking all remaining points available (assuming last weekend's postponed gamed get rescheduled), matching their points-per-game ratio for the season to date through their remaining games, or on matching their points-per-game ratio for the last five games through the remaining games - they don't take into account tiebreaks or what the actual remainder of the season looks like.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Saturday 11 July 1835

7 ¼

1

No kiss. Got up soon after 6 but bilious headache and lay down again - dull but finish morning - took the £50 bank of England n° 108 November 11, 1834 Manchester out of the note George brought back on Wednesday and sent it under cover to ‘Messrs. Rawsons Bankers Halifax’ by John at 8 am or soon after - sat talking to A- in the blue room - very biliously inclined - F57° now at 9 am then breakfast in about ¾ hour - Washington came - stable racks will not be ready till Wednesday - George accompanied by James Howarth who had taken the cart and my 2 horses before breakfast to Greenwoods for 5 planks worth of  boards for floor over Hopkins’ cowhouse, got back very well and went forwards to Hopkins - Charles H- also with him to lay the boards - had Mawson - ordered a baring to be begun of Whiskam stone on Monday if possible the baring and loadening should be 3 1/2d per cubic yard - but said it should be 3d the good stuff to be carted down here to the opposite approach gate at 1/. per cubic yard - Mr Husband called and said something from Mr Harper I forget what - Had Joseph Mann - the water comes out into the pit at 78 yards deep - he has taken his level from 80 yards 1ft. deep in the pit, and then it would come out about 10 yards below the garden low corner - but it should be driven at the bottom of the rag both for ease and getting more water and then it should be taken from 90 yards in the pit and that would bring it about just above (perhaps) my rustic chair in the walk  (at the thorns bottom of call croft) - could not get rid of the stuff - give it up - then till after 1 looking over my journals and accounts respecting Mr Parker bills and cash account –

SH:7/ML/E/18/0059

left A- copying must papers again and off to Halifax at 1 ¾  - down the old bank to Mr Parker’s office - saw both him and Mr Adam - explained about the bills - left the cash account with them to have another from the time (18 June 1833) of my leaving Shibden for Copenhagen up to 1st instant –

bills n° 1 = £28.5.0

n°2 = £36.6.2

n°3 = £93.1.3

n°4 = £89.3.4

n°5 = £17.16.0 - £2+

264.11.9

2_______

262.11.9

+ to be carried to cash account

  added up the amount of these 5 bills Mr P- took it at £260 which I paid him full up to 30 June last, and he receipted (‘settled’) all the bills - so that I owe nothing for law except since that time - and in the cash account floating between us there is a balance in my favour of £12 + and £10 Wakefield road money still to come in, but then Mrs. Fergusons trust money is to pay ¼ year = £20 or more and ½ years interest on Mr. Wainhouse’s £1000 at 4 ¼ p.c. is now due (due on the 8th instant) and is to be paid by P. and A- Mr. W- has no objection to take six navigation shares - but P- does not think he will give 400 guineas may give £405 - I said all that was got above £400 was clear gain - I should be glad if P- could get £410 but would take £405 for the six shares - must have as much more than £400 per share as would pay the expense - but I had made up my mind to sell all my navigation stock - Mr. P-‘s bill had frightened but it was perhaps the best thing that could have come to me - it had made me examine into the expense of borrowing money - borrowed money would cost me 10 p.c. the 1st year and no building could pay for this - Mr. P- did not deny this - Mr. Adam said I had better put my stock up by auction - Mr. P- thought not - had better sell the 6 shares 1st - very well - agreed - said I could was not in such immediate haste but that I could wait perhaps till Xmas before selling the rest - on 1st saying I had made up my mind to sell all, said should I pay off Mr. Wainhouses £1000? Mr. P-‘s manner of answering I must do as I liked about that proved that he was rather nettled - I then observed well! as I had paid the expense of the bond, perhaps I had better wait a little and settle with my aunt and Miss Walker 1st; for, on paying the £200 I paid down towards the five bills saying I would send the other £60 this evening, I made a [min.] of it in my rough book and Mr P- would not help seeing the entries received from A- £200 (of the Mytholm rents given into her care) and received from A- £100 I said that I certainly thought it better to avoid the expense of borrowing but certainly this consideration apart, I thought the navigation a speculative concert too much so for me, and I should be glad to back out at anything above £400 - Mr. P- begged I would not pay the 5 bills if it was not convenient - said it was perfectly convenient, and I did not like to have my account books disgraced by any bills of long standing - P- said he had had some conversation with Mr. Abbott respecting the navigation and he (A-) told him Mr. Lewis Alexander asked 400 guineas for the 3 shares he had on sale - not a muscle of my face was changed, and I pursued the subject of my own price as if nobody’s name had been mentioned - went to Whitley’s - no letter - no news of Powson - said I had sent the morning Heralds (on Tuesday) for the six months of this year that he might put them into his press till I had 2 months more ready - for 2 volumes - had got to the top of the old bank in returning before I recollected the 2 [shaims?] more of netting silk for A- for my purse - went down the new back (and back the same way) to Nicholson’s for it - home at 3 ¾ musing on selling my navigation stock and on P- and A-‘s saying Northgate hotel would certainly not pay me - went down to Marian for a £10 joint stock note instead of sending gold to make up the £60 to P- and A- staid talking till A- came home about 6 - Marian only hopes what I have will last me my life - she called on Mrs Holmes (yesterday?) Mrs H- said it was said I thought Marian would degrade herself by her match - Marian could not tell that I thought that but told what I meant to do - I quietly observed I was sorry she had told it because sufficient till the day was the evil there of - I had never made use of the word degraded and thought I never should - I had expressed myself more strongly to Marian herself the other day than I had ever done before or perhaps should ever do again and then the word I used was mésalliance - I had never named the subject out of the house - nor had A- except to her aunt to whom on her (the aunt) mentioning the subject she said I had told her to say I believed the match would take place I meant to do so and so but Mrs AW was requested not to name this communication and I felt sure she had not done so, and would not do so - Marian sure her friend had heard something - I said I could not answer for what might be said by other people when they began to tell my thoughts for me - but I had told Marian I should never say a syllable derogatorily to her friend - I respected his character and could only repeat if she must choose between him and the 2 she formerly mentioned she would take if she had an opportunity (Mr Christopher Rawson and Mr John Priestley) I should much prefer her present choice - not my intention to say this to anyone else but herself but if it could be any consolation to any one I had no objection - her friend’s mother had inquired after my aunt - Marian said my aunt had never inquired after the family since Marian’s friend came here - the mother was annoyed - Marian said as if in atonement she Marian had only gone once a day to see my aunt ever since - upon this -‘the powers’ said I ‘can even the mother expect my aunt should like the match’ Marian! there is no policy that influences me  - it is a feeling in have in spite of myself’ - Marian said she herself did not consider it a mésalliance all that, said I, is very well - ‘of course, you don’t - but different people take the same word in different acceptations - no one can deny that I go straight forward in the path nature seemed to have set out for us - it is you who step aside’  - Mrs Holmes had said, Marian and I were such different people there was nothing to be said - she did not say anything against me, but thought Marian right to please herself and consult her own happiness - what would suit the one would not the other - However it appears Marian’s friend is more annoyed at my dislike to the match than she herself is, and there was an insinuation that it might even put off the match! I said, if I was Marian’s parent, that might be very well but as it is, I have no right to influence her marrying - I have nothing to do with - he has no business to mind me - but I think he courted the connection and the place and therefore minds me. A- came in but just before and after dinner (dinner at 6 ¼) afterwards being called downstairs to Mr Powson from Sandford school near Brough who arrived a little before or about 9pm having walked from Skipton this afternoon - A- disappointed with his appearance and manner and his having seven young children - I went in and thought pretty well of him - a good arithmetician, and reader and writer and good at measurement (Nesbit’s) but knows little or nothing of algebra or Euclid - his expense coming 14/. - behaved very handsomely and civilly - ordered him cold meat and porter - saw him a few minutes again (after his eating) and gave him 30/ for his expense and 5/ towards defraying the expense of postage he has been at - he has 36 scholars and the Sunday school is £5 per annum - he has no certainty but that - reading per quarter 4/ and with writing 5/ and with ditto and accounts 6/ and with all the 3 and measuration  7/. he seems a good sort of honest man, not polished or spruce - but fatigued with his journey - said I was

SH:7/ML/E/18/0060

  sorry he had been so dilatorily in writing for we were in treaty with another and could give no answer at present but he should have one as soon as we could give it - he is not looking out or thinking of any other situation that we need not hurry about him - he seemed obliged enough without thanking too much for our unexpected liberality - it was near 10 before he went away - A- had latterly had Washington - I 10 minutes with my aunt - tea at 10 ¼ - then till 10 10 wrote all but the 1st 15 lines of today while A- finished copying musty papers - fine day good drought and everybody busy in the hay - my father had none ready for housing but got a good deal ready for Monday - F60° at 12 10 past midnight -

Note this evening from Messrs. P- and A- acknowledging the receipt of the money

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 47

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42 || CHAPTER 43 || CHAPTER 44 || CHAPTER 45 || CHAPTER 46

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: last filler chapter. the next 3 chapters are all planned. this is the end omg im so sad! i love you guys so much for sticking to this story! thank you so so much! the others chapters will be separated in two so i can write each POVs :)

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : this is, i believe, the last request i’ll add to this story. thank you times a million to all of you who sent some! I received over 200 requests just for YOU&ME! you guys are incredible and i hope youll want to participate to my next story as much as you did for this one! 

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 47 : His chapter

NIALL

October 2018

Tour was finally over and we were back home. We had decided to get back to California for a while, if only to spend some time with friends and relax. I knew Olivia wanted to be around Louis and I just enjoyed being in LA for obvious reasons. Things had never been better between us but at least once a day, I could feel the ring I bought burning in my pocket or whispering to me from my underwear drawer. It always felt like the right time to get on one knee and ask her and at the same time, it also never felt like it was the perfect moment. I knew it was ridiculous because I was pretty sure she wanted to spend her life with me, but I was scared of being rejected, I was scared of what a 'no' would do to us and to our relationship. So many times, I had looked in her eyes and almost dropped down on one knee to ask her to be my wife, but I never did. I liked to believe I hadn't asked her yet because I knew she deserved something bigger than just me giving her a ring in a hotel room while we're waiting for our ride to the airport, but it was definitely not the biggest problem. I was just fucking scared and every time the words were about to come out of my mouth, I'd swallow them. I had no idea who I was trying to fool : Olivia was never the type to enjoy attention or extravagant things. She was reserved and private, pretty much like me, and I knew my proposal didn't have to be anything wild. It could be simple, and cheesy, and as long as I could find the right words, it would be perfect.

I heard the key in the lock and it took me out of my thoughts, pushing away my inner confusion. I waited until the door opened and she appeared, making my lips curl. She made a quick head movement but everything seemed to go on slow motion, like in a movie, and i watched her hair fly behind her shoulder. I was in it so deep I almost groaned and grimaced at how cheesy I was.

"Hey babe, what are you doing?"

I breathed in deeply, realizing I had completely stopped, and sent her a smile, licking my lips.

"Waiting for you like the loser I am." I half-joked before chuckling. "You were with Louis? How's he?"

She smiled at me and took a step closer, tilting her head. "First off, you're not a loser. You're cute. You're sweet. You're super endearing." she just said, staring at me fondly. Her expression changed and she glanced down, sucking on her bottom lip before putting her purse next to the couch. "I was not with... I didn't spend the night with Louis."

I frowned, waiting for her to continue and when her eyes met mine, I knew it was bad.

"I went to dinner with Dylan."

My lips parted and my heart jumped in my chest. I was never the jealous type and I was not about to start now, right? Then why did something seemed to stir in my stomach? Why was there a lump in my throat that had seemed to appear suddenly?

"No way, tell me you're kiddin'."

"Niall, please-"

"No, don't act like this is normal and that I'm stupid to be angry." i cut her, shaking my head. "I can't believe you spent all this time alone with Dylan."

She sighed again and sat on the couch, rubbing her hands on her eyes. I walked closer and dived my hands in my pockets, trying to remain calm but the truth was, I was hurt and I was not sure what all of this meant. All I knew was that I felt betrayed and I could barely believe we'd have to go through something like this again. This time, the roles seemed to be reversed but I didn't want this to break us.

"Obviously, you knew it was wrong since you purposely omitted to tell me." I continued, pressing my lips together to be sure I wouldn't let out a mean remark. "Why did you do that to me, Liv?"

It took her a few seconds but she finally got up very slowly, right in front of me. Her body was close, so close I could feel the warmth of it on my skin, but I just stared in her eyes, feeling my heart soften at the way she was looking at me.

"I don't love him, you know it." she expressed in a soft tone. "I don't love anyone but you. He's still my friend, and also my co-worker. I probably shouldn't have gone with him, especially not without telling you, but... I don't know, Niall."

I stared at her for what felt like an hour as I tried to calm the beatings of my heart and finally passed one of my hands in my hair and sat down on the couch. She turned around to face me but remained up as I shook my head.

"I'm not going to tell you who you can and can't be friends with, and I do trust you." I let out carefully. "But Olivia, how would you feel if i came back here one night and told you I spent the evening with Heidi?"

I could feel her body tense near mine but I didn't look up at her. I waited and eventually, she sat next to me and reached for my hand on my thigh, squeezing my fingers with both her hands.

"I'd feel betrayed, and sad, and... and hurt." she admitted. "I'm sorry Niall, it was wrong of me."

I brought my other hand and placed it over hers, squeezing her hand and brushing my thumb on the top of it.

"If it can reassure you though, Dylan is seeing someone." she added, making me look up in her eyes. "A pretty blonde. Actress too. Not your type, obviously, but I think they really fit."

"Not my type?" I repeated in an amused tone, raising my eyebrows. "Says who?"

"Your dating history." she explained with a chuckle. "She's a small cute blonde and you like tall and sexy brunettes."

I pressed my lips together again and shook my head. "Naa, that's not true anymore." I just shrugged, making her frown. "I just like one sexy brunette."

She laughed and tilted her head. "You're crazy, I'm not sex-"

I cut her by pressing my palm against her mouth and raising my eyebrows, moving slightly closer. My eyes roamed on her again as something jumped in my stomach. I wanted to ask her to marry me at this exact moment. I wanted to tell her she was everything I needed in this life and that my heart was aching for her to become my wife. Instead, I breathed in and finally swallowed.

"Don't argue with me. You're sexy." I whispered before moving my hand away very slowly. "And I love you."

She licked her lips and the left corner of her lips raised up. "Your love is blinding you." she whispered, moving closer to brush her lips against mine. "But I appreciate it. I love you too."

She kissed me so gently that if I had closed my eyes, it would have felt unreal, and when she pulled away, I saw her facial expression change.

"I'm sorry, Niall. That won't ever happen again." she apologized gently in a soft tone.

"I know." I whispered before suddenly realizing something. "Hey, does that mean he broke up with Heidi?"

Her lips curled and she shrugged. "Yea, that's what he told me tonight. I feel a bit sorry for her, she's been through a lot in the past few weeks."

I stared at her for a few seconds, surprised by her words but at the same time a bit impressed. The fact that she could be empathetic even to people who were mean to her was something I appreciated. Of course, we hadn't been too kind to Heidi either and Liv was not wrong, she had been through a lot, even if it was not all on us and that she had put us through a lot too. Still, I felt my lips curl and she tilted her head before sighing as she turned her upper body my way.

"It's horrible what we all did to each other, don't you think?"

My traits softened and I nodded. "It is." I admitted in a low tone. "Let's just use this so we never do that again."

Her lips curled a bit and she licked them slowly as I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. Her arms slithered around my neck and I sent her an amused smile.

"It won't ever happen again." she confessed, tilting her chin up. "I plan to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you."

Her words made me chuckle and I raised my eyebrows, still looking at her, "Oh what a coincidence, I plan the same with you."

I brought one of my hands to her cheek before pressing my forehead against hers. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. It made me smile and gently, I rubbed my nose against hers, making her chuckle low.

"Shower?" I proposed in a low tone.

"Mm no, a bath. Together."

I laughed a bit but we ended up in the bathroom together as she filled the tub with warm water. I let my eyes roam on her as she got undressed, leaving her clothes on the cold tiles, and when her eyes met mine, she raised her eyebrows. The left corner of my lips raised up into a cheeky smile and she just shook her head but I took a step closer, placing my hands on her waist and making her smile too.

"Fifteen minutes without thinking about sex. Please." she asked, tilting her head and making me laugh.

"But you're just standing naked in front of me I mean..."

"Niall James Horan, you're not sixteen anymore, you can be around a naked girl without feeling the need to shag her, i'm sure!"

"Around any other girl, yea, but when it's you..." I let out, half-joking and making her roll her eyes.

"Come on, get naked too." she let out as she started working on my pants. I helped her take them off and before she could do it, I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head, letting fall on the pile of her clothing on the floor. "Alright, seeing you in your usual white boxers does something to me." she admitted, bringing her hand to my cock over my boxers and biting her bottom lip.

"Look who's all horny now." I laughed as she got on her tiptoes to kiss my lips, letting go of me and smiling against my mouth. "Come on, get in the tub."

After a few minutes, I was sitting in the tub, legs spread, and she was sitting between them, her back leaned against my chest. I didn't remember us ever doing that before but I enjoyed it a lot more that I thought I would. We started talking and laughing together and it was exactly like when we were younger and we'd spend all night talking together. Well, almost : the younger versions of us were definitely not naked.

"I can't believe we're dating again." she let out after a while as her thumb brushed gently on my arm. "If someone had told me that a few months ago, I wouldn't have believed it. Who would have thought?"

"Me." I replied before she moved slightly to look at me. "I mean, I wrote 'you and me' about that. I knew we were meant to be, and I've always known I wanted to spend my life with you."

I knew this discussion could go wrong but I had to be honest about all of this.

"I could have refused, you know. I could have been over you by then." she argued calmly. "I thought I was. But then you appeared with that stupid gorgeous mug of yours, that fucking insane smile and those ridiculously incredible eyes..." She shook her head. "I had no chance to win that fight."

I let out a loud laugh and she tilted her head to reach my chin with her lips, leaving a small kiss on my skin.

"When I found out you were getting married... I started doubting everything." I admitted, looking down at my hand moving slowly to bring warm water on her skin after seeing her shiver. "I thought maybe it was too late. But I couldn't seem to give up."

We remained silent for a while until she grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers tight. "I'm glad you didn't."

"Me too." I whispered. "And I feel so lucky that you gave me an other chance."

Once again, she turned around slightly but this time, I moved my chin down to kiss her lips.

"We don't even have an anniversary date." she pointed out, raising her eyebrows at me.

"Of course we do! It's April 16th of this year."

I felt my heart jump at my words and held my breath. April 16th was the day I bought that promise ring for her in Paris. It was when I decided that I wanted to marry her and that I would ask her to be my wife. Since that day, I had almost asked her so many times I couldn't count anymore. I hadn't dropped on one knee yet but I knew that I would at some point, and April 16th was the day I realized that. Some days I would bring the ring with me in my pocket, some other days it would stay in one of the drawers in our room, but it was always in the back of my mind. I obviously couldn't tell her that and when she turned around an other time to frown at me, I suddenly remembered something she had said.

"Y-Yea, I mean you don't remember?" I stammered. "There was an article about that earring you gave me and you said that you didn't care that people knew we were together."

We had also mentioned not being official the day after, I remembered that too. but I decided not to mention it. I was pretty sure she had mentioned that we were together but I was also aware it was probably just a bad choice of words. She was right, we didn't have an anniversary date, but I hoped that it would become that date if only because it was a big day for me and I hoped it would become a big day for her, too.

"I don't remember, but I trust you." she just shrugged before her lips curled. "Alright, April 16th, then."

I felt my heart jump in my chest and I kissed her gently but firmly again, making her chuckle against my mouth. I could have spent the whole night with her body pressed on me as we chilled in hot water but after a while, we got out, dried ourselves and got back to our room to put on pajamas.

"I'll make us some tea." she proposed as we walked back to the living room and she finally disappeared in the kitchen.

I sat on the couch and started looking for the remote on the coffee table. I was about to give up when something caught my eyes and I grabbed her notebook. It was similar to mine but of a different color and I knew she wrote ideas for her tv show or her future book in it. I was about to ignore it when I realized it was open and I could have sworn I had seen my surname. Without thinking, I grabbed it and a smile appeared quickly on my face when I saw 'Olivia Horan' scribbled everywhere on a page, surrounded by hearts and stars. It seemed like she had tried to create a signature with her future name and it made me think about the ring in my drawer. If I was scared she wouldn't accept, that notebook was a good clue that her answer would probably be positive. I put it away when I heard noise and leaned against the couch as I watched her walk slowly up to me to make sure she wouldn't spill our hot beverages and I thanked her as I grabbed a mug. She sat next to me and our eyes met before our lips curled. I couldn't believe how happy I was.

"I love you, Niall. I'm... I'm glad we're dating now." she admitted before taking a sip.

"Me too, petal. I'm happy you accepted to be my girlfriend again."

                                                     ---

December 2018

When Liv told me she was spending the day with Julia, I was a bit surprised, but the truth was, I enjoyed the fact that these two got along so well. She said she wouldn't be home late but I knew how she could get and when Louis proposed that we grabbed a bite (and a few pints, of course)  together, I jumped on the occasion.

I knew Louis had become Olivia's best friend and even if we used to be very close, I was fine with that. Somehow, they had been through a lot together, and I knew it was partially my fault : they probably wouldn't be that close if I hadn't broken up with Liv. Of course, they'd still be friends, since they were before we broke up, but I knew their pain brought them closer and it was obvious that nothing could tear them apart now.

I was also slowly but surely getting over the fact that Louis and her had sex a few times. I was not sure how often but I was sure I didn't want to know and anyway, i couldn't blame her or him. It had happened and I had to live with that fact. Besides, I knew there was nothing between them anymore.

I smiled when I saw Louis walk in the restaurant and got up to hug him before we both sat back down. We ordered beer and when we got them, we clinked our glasses together and drank half of it. It was weird to think I was with Olivia's best friend and she was actually hanging out with mine, but the fact that we appreciated each other's entourage was perfect.

"So, Neil, how are things for you?" he asked, playing with his beer and turning it around in his hands. "Where's my queen tonight?"

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, amused. "Your queen is with Julia, but she's not supposed to come back home too late. She'll text me. Where's El?"

"Gone for a few days."

"Ah. That's why you called me." I pointed out before laughing when I saw his face. "It's ok Tommo, I get it."

"I'm thinking you're ding quite well these days." he pointed out, ignoring my last comment. "When are you gonna pop the question?"

I almost choked on my beer and wiped my mouth on my shoulder before swallowing hard and making Louis laugh.

"We've just been taking bets on that." he continued, shrugging a shoulder.

"We?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Liam and I. Trying to bring Harry in it but he says it's none of our business."

"I've always thought Harry was the smartest of my bandmates." I joked, making Louis laugh again.

"Oh yea, you definitely thought that when he was balls deep in your best friend's fanny right?"

"Shut up, Tommo!" I frowned as he laughed again. "He probably shagged her less times than you did."

Louis took an other big sip of his drink. "Touché." he shrugged again before chuckling. "Not sure what it says about the relationship they had, though."

I raised my nose up in a grimace and drank what was left of my beer. I didn't really want to have this discussion and I decided to change the subject.

"Well, I don't know which bet you took, but I hope you lose." I admitted as I looked through my pocket, taking out the ring and placing it right in the middle of the table.

Louis' eyes got bigger and he moved closer, bending down to look it it without daring to touch it. I stopped the waitress to order us two other beers and a few shots and when I turned back to my friend. he was still staring at the ring like he didn't know what it was. I snatched it quickly, taking him out of his thoughts, and put it in my little finger to stare at it.

"I've thought about asking her so many times." I confessed, my eyes still on the ring. "But it never feels like the right time."

"I know you're a romantic man, Niall but... will there ever be a right time?" Louis said gently, making me sigh. "Aren't you just a bit scared that she'll say no and leave?"

I groaned and closed my eyes before raising my nose up in a grimace again. "Maybe."

He was right, I knew it, but at the same time, i wanted to make it special for her. I wanted it to be something that she'd remember forever, something she couldn't forget even if she tried. I wanted to express my feelings to her and tell her everything she wanted and needed to hear, just to make her happy. I had tried to write down the right words but everything seemed cliché and cheesy.

"Do it. She's your soulmate. I can't make up a scenario in my head where she'd actually say 'no'." he continued. "I think deep down, you know I'm right."

I looked up and sighed again, putting the ring back in my pocket.

"I don't know anymore, I just don't want to take her for granted, you know?" I shrugged. "I've done that before and it messed up everything. Never again."

"That doesn't mean you can't be confident and believe in the love she has for you."

I frowned a bit as I stared at him. "Are you trying to win your bet against Liam by making me ask Olivia to marry me?"

"No." Louis chuckled, leaning against his chair. "I just think you've been hesitant for too long. When exactly did you buy this ring?"

"Mm, well, about, 8 months ago?"

Just saying it out loud sounded ridiculous. Had I been waiting that long? It was almost pathetic. How scared of rejection could a guy be? Seriously. I had never reacted like that in anything I did before, and I was always the confident type, but asking Olivia to marry me was something that made me so nervous I could feel my hands sweat and I passed one of them in my hair.

"8 months? Are you fucking insane? How did you manage to keep that secret?"

"I don't even know." I mumbled in a low tone, staring at my glass, not daring to check Louis' amused expression.

"Niall, we're talking about Olivia. The girl you've known all your life, the girl who's been in love with you since the very first day she found out what love was. Put your big boy pants on and pop the fucking question before that fucking ring starts to get rusty!"

"It's made of gold...."

He rolled his eyes and kicked me under the table, making me groan again as I moved my leg away. Damn, that kid could kick.

"Don't be a fookin' idiot, mate, and just ask her."

I finally looked up in his eyes and he raised his eyebrows at me. He was right but at the same time, I didn't know when I should do it. I wanted to do something special, or at least slightly romantic, but all I could think about were ugly clichés from movies. Nothing original came to mind and it was driving me insane.

"Alright. Soon." I gave in. "I'll do it soon."