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miragemurder · 6 months

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Secret

Part 2 of Spotlight

Pairing: Veneer x GN Reader

Genre: Fluff, Make out

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A continuation of the oneshot, Spotlight.

For the people who asked. <3 ★ ★ ★

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A few weeks had passed since you last been at the club with your friend. So much had happened in that one day, it felt like you just rode the craziest roller coaster in the world. After the party, you and your friend spent the rest of the night giggling and fawning over the guy you just met. He wasn’t just some guy though, he was the Veneer.

You laid back in your bed, head softly hitting the pillow behind you as you pick up your phone from the side table. Today was a relaxing day as you didn’t have anything planned for today, so why not just lay back and go on your favorite social media. You clicked on an app and doom scrolled for a little bit. Most of the posts you saw were just of people going crazy about the latest stars and their new albums. You sighed and kept scrolling, not really interested in other people’s “fangirling.”

You stopped on a post that really struck your interest. It was a post of Velvet and Veneer. You didn’t even know they had social media let alone allowed to because of their agencies. You continued watching the video as they were announcing their touring schedule and meet ups. That’s when your brain clicked. You had Veneer’s number.

You got up from bed and scurried to your dresser, opening up a drawer and picking up the crumbled piece of paper that had his contact information. You took in a deep breath as you opened up the message app on your phone and dialed in his number. You decided to keep it simple and type in a little “Hey, its [_____]”

You dropped your phone on top of your dresser and paced around your room, anxiety getting the best of you. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, it was one simple text. You felt like you were about to pass out until you heard a buzz. You ran over to your phone and read the message.

“Oh hey! I didn’t think you were actually gonna send a text. Had me worried lol.” He sent a little laugh emoji next to his message.

You sighed deeply, all the worry draining from your body as you sent him a reply.

“Heh yeah, I eventually gained the courage lol”

You slightly cringed at the text as you sent it. You waited a couple of minutes for a response until you heard the vibration coming from your phone. He was trying to call you. You panicked and quickly picked up the phone.

“Hey sorry for the incoming call. It’s so much easier just to talk than having to type out everything. How were you lately?” He asked.

“Oh I’ve been good, just relaxing at home and sometimes going out everyone once in a while.” You sighed and smiled. You were nervous and excited all at once, you just hoped he couldn’t hear any of it.

“I wanted to invite you over to one of our meet and greets at the Rage Dome tomorrow, do you think you’ll be able to make it?” He questioned.

You quickly looked at the calendar you had hanging up on your wall. It’s not like you had anything planned but you liked to check.

“Nope! I should be free tomorrow.” You said, a little bit of your excitement coming out.

“Great, can’t wait to see you there.” He softly laughed at your excitement, making you fluster.

“Ugh, crimp is pestering at the moment. I’ll call you back when I can, bye.” He dragged out the bye and hung up. You sighed and laid back on top of your bed. You really were down bad for this guy.

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The next day rolls around and you slowly get up and stretch. You smiled to yourself, remembering that you get to see him today. You get up to go take a shower and fix your hair. You set the shower to be a nice warm temp and started stripping. You hopped in and quickly cleaned yourself, not wanting to spend forever in the shower. You quickly got out and got dressed, picking out your best formal outfit you can find. Yes, it is a meet and greet but you still wanted to look good for him.

You finished up your final touches when your phone started vibrating again. You picked up your phone and answered the call.

“How is my number one fan doing this fine morning?” He laughed. You laughed with him.

“I’m doing good, just finished getting ready for the day. How about you?” You asked, leaving the bathroom and sitting down on your bed.

“I’m doing alright. Honestly, I am way too tired to be getting ready right now but what can I say. Crimps already all up in my hair about the meet and greet. I don’t know why she’s so worried, the meet and greet doesn’t start until six.” He groaned. You can practically hear him roll his eyes at the end of his sentence.

“Well, I wish you luck.” You said softly.

“Thank you.” He paused for a moment until he continued. “What if you come an hour earlier so we can meet up beforehand? In private.”

You flustered a dark red. There was no way he just asked you to meet up IN PRIVATE.

“Uh yeah that would be great!” Your voice almost trembled because of your nerves. There is no way that this was actually happening.

“Great, I’ll see you at five.” He hung up. You sat at your bed, shocked. You slowly went downstairs and went into your living room, filling in time until it was ready to go.

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You stepped inside the Rage Dome and were almost blinded by all the lights they had going on. You were about to pull out your phone until you saw someone approaching you.

“Hey you made it!” Veneer cheered, spreading out his arms to wrap you into a hug.

“Yeah, I was just about to ask you where to go.” You chuckled and so did he.

“Let’s go on back to my break room. I don’t want anyone seeing us out here. I’m not ready for all the paparazzi.” He shuttered sarcastically.

He walked you back to where all the breakrooms were. The rooms were for the celebrities to take breaks in, just in case they needed to fix their appearance or if the crowd was being too much. Once you walked in you noticed that Velvet wasn’t there.

“Where’s Velvet?” You asked, scanning the room.

“Oh she’s getting ready in another room. They gave us separate rooms which I kind of enjoy.” He smiled and looked at you.

“Can I just say something real quick? Your outfit is gorgeous.” He complimented. You smiled, blushing a little.

“Thank you, I didn’t think you would care that much.” You said with an awkward smile.

“It looks really good on you.” He stared into your eyes. You felt like you were about to explode with how close you too were. He slightly pulled you over to the couch and sat you down, him sitting right next to you.

He gently touched the side of your face with his hand, still staring longingly into your eyes. He slightly looked down at your lips and back up again before asking something.

“Can I..” He spoke hesitantly, leaning closer. You followed his actions and leaned in. He brushed a piece of hair back behind your ear and quickly closed the gap between you two. Your eyes fluttered closed as you two both enjoyed each other’s presence.

You wrapped your arms around him, your hand slowly moving through his hair. He deepened the kiss, his other hand grabbing your hips and moving you closer. He pulled back for a quick second to give you guys some time to breathe. His hair was a mess and his eyes were half-lidded. He was breathing heavily. You took in the sight, making sure to keep it ingrained in your memory.

“That was…” He looked down into your gaze. You smiled slightly and pulled him back in for another kiss. You laid down on the couch, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him on top. You continued making out for what felt like forever until you heard some foot steps from down the hall. You guys hurriedly got up and brushed yourself off, making sure it looked like nothing happened.

You were just about to walk out the door before Veneer put his hand on your shoulder.

“We can…keep this….as our little secret.”

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Aye! I made a part two! I hope you guys enjoyed this. I tried to keep it as Pg-13 as possible since he is a teenager. He’s still a little out of character but eh, what are you gonna do. Anyways, leave requests down in the comments!

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#veneer x reader #veneer trolls x reader #fanfic #trolls band together #trolls #veneer #veneer trolls #velvet and veneer

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 4 months

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ON AN AUGUST night in 2003, a young woman who went by the name Paulina sank into the sofa of her modest, rented apartment, opened up her laptop, and began talking about sex with a man she’d recently met in a Yahoo chat group. His name was Stephen Bolen. His first communications had been terse, but he soon warmed to Paulina. It didn’t take long for both of them to begin to open up.

Paulina had told Bolen she lived in the Atlanta area, that she had a three-year-old daughter, that her daughter’s father was no longer in the picture. Soon, she was sharing more intimate details: what it was like growing up a skinny white girl in a rough neighborhood outside of D.C.; how her dad, a Marine, had died by suicide two weeks before she was born; how her mom had been emotionally and physically abusive, and had never really shown her love. How she’d had a sexual relationship with her stepfather.

Paulina would put her daughter to bed and then she and Bolen would chat throughout the night, over Yahoo and sometimes on the phone. The back-and-forth could feel like dating, but with an added element of danger and risk: Both Paulina and Bolen knew they were tiptoeing up to a line to see if they trusted each other enough to cross it. It could take a while to figure that out.

Eventually, Bolen asked Paulina to send pictures of her daughter, and she agreed to do so, though the ones she’d shared were chaste — the little girl clothed and her face turned away from the camera or obscured behind an untamable halo of blond curls. After seeing the pictures, Bolen asked to meet. While a lot of the men Paulina had encountered in chatrooms like “Sex With Younger” just wanted to trade images and videos of children, to expand their illicit collections, Bolen was a “traveler,” someone looking to act upon his obsessions.

On Sept. 17, just as they’d arranged, Paulina sat on a bench outside Perimeter Mall with a stroller parked in front of her, scanning the parking lot nervously. Part of her hoped Bolen wouldn’t show. When he did, she could see he was handsome, a preppy guy in a pink polo shirt and khakis. “Paulina?” he asked eagerly. She nodded. As he smiled and pulled back the blanket draped across the stroller, he found himself surrounded, handcuffs slipped around his wrists.

“Paulina” watched his face fall, his confusion giving way to distress as FBI agents took him into custody. It was her first undercover arrest. It would be the first of many.

[long read]

IF ONE WANTED to hide in plain sight, one could do no better than the tidy, suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of St. Louis, where FBI Special Agent Nikki Badolato now resides. The well-tended, two-story homes are so pleasantly indistinct that I could hardly tell you what hers looks like, even if it were safe for me to do so, which it is not. Suffice to say that Midwestern comfort and conformity unspool around every gently winding curve. Here Badolato has raised her two children, a daughter who is now in college and a son who is a junior at a local high school. When planning a neighborhood scavenger hunt or tending the community garden, Badolato does not often mention her many years as head of the Child Exploitation Task Force, a joint effort between the feds and local law enforcement that targets some of the country’s most heinous crimes. Open a cabinet in her kitchen, however, and a government-issued Glock 42 can be found stowed away between the vitamins and mixing bowls.

On a sunny morning this past October, Badolato sat at her dining room table, scrapbooks and albums spread out before her on the dark wood. There was the acceptance letter she’d received from the bureau the spring of her senior year of high school, after a representative had shown up to administer a test in the typewriting room. “I chose to wear a red dress and red heels,” she says of her first day as an FBI mail clerk, two weeks after her 18th birthday. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I guess maybe I was trying to go in bold?” She pauses at a picture of herself on the gun range at Quantico almost 10 years later, her shoulders squared and her caramel hair pulled back into a ponytail as she fires off rounds. By then, she’d married a man she met just after high school, had a little girl, completed college at night, and been accepted into agent training in the heady days after 9/11. She’d seen her first dead body only a few weeks into the job, after the pursuit of a bank robber ended with a shootout in a Walmart. When Badolato got to the scene, the body was still warm, and the perp’s head was resting on a bag of cookies. “It was surreal,” she says. “How many times have you been in a Walmart and walked down Aisle 4, not really expecting there to be a dead person with his head lying on a bag of Chips Ahoy?”

Badolato wasn’t deterred. She felt like the bureau saved her, plucked her out of a shitty home life, and gave her prospects and purpose. As a new agent, she was intent on proving herself worthy. “My training agent told me, ‘You know, Nikki, it’s a marathon, not a sprint,’ ” she says. “I was like, ‘That’s ridiculous. I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.’ ” She turned a few pages to show a picture of the 391 kilos of cocaine and 140 pounds of meth she’d recovered on a single raid during a stint with a cartel squad, then pointed out another in which she poses with a five-year-old child she’d rescued, the little girl’s hair cut short because the kidnapper had wanted her to look like a boy. But the keepsake she really wants to find is the card that Bolen’s wife had pressed into her hand at his sentencing, the one with the picture of their children — a blond girl of about three years and a tiny baby — and the words “These are the faces of the children you protect each day.” Bolen’s wife had been the only one she’d ever encountered who had lobbied for her husband to receive the maximum sentence. Some wives accused the FBI of planting evidence inside computers. Most seemed intent on clinging to their delusions. (Attempts to reach Bolen for comment were unsuccessful.)

“Right now some little girl is being dropped off in the parking lot of a motel. There are four girls holed up in a hotel next to a McDonald’s. It is happening all the time.”

Which, Badolato has come to understand, is the way it goes with child trafficking and sexual abuse. She had invited me into her home — had agreed to speak on the record about her decades-long career working undercover — because when it comes to the crimes she’s spent her career fighting, she has had enough of the delusions people are under. She’s had enough of the way movies like Sound of Freedom both glamorize and trivialize the work she and her colleagues do, enough of the idea that swashbuckling white men burst through doors and rescue trafficked children with a Bible in one hand and a firearm in the other, enough of conspiracy theories about Hollywood and Washington that detract from the real root causes of why children are trafficked and abused. “Human trafficking is not the movie Pretty Woman — the girl doesn’t get the guy — and it’s not the movie Taken, where people are kidnapped in a foreign country and sold on the black market, or shipped in a container across the world,” one of the detectives who worked on Badolato’s task force tells me. “I’m not saying that doesn’t ever happen, but it’s not what we’re seeing.”

What they are seeing is a lot more insidious and a lot more homegrown. A report released in 2018 by the State Department ranked the U.S. as one of the worst countries in the world for human trafficking. While the Department of Justice has estimated that between 14,500 and 17,500 foreign nationals are trafficked into this country every year, this number pales in comparison to the number of American minors who are trafficked within it: A 2009 Department of Health and Human Services review of human trafficking into and within the United States found that roughly 199,000 American minors are sexually exploited each year, and that between 244,000 and 325,000 American youths are considered to be at risk of being trafficked specifically in the sex industry. Heartbreakingly, many of these children are victimized not by strangers who’ve abducted them from mall parking lots but rather by people they know and trust: Studies have found that as much as 44 percent of victims are trafficked by family members, most often parents (and not infrequently parents who were trafficked themselves). Between 2011 and 2020, there was an 84 percent increase in the number of people prosecuted for a federal human-trafficking offense. Of the defendants charged in 2020, 92 percent were male, 63 percent were white, 66 percent had no prior convictions, and 95 percent were U.S. citizens.

Badolato started her career as an FBI agent in some of the earliest days that children could be bought, sold, and traded online. As the internet-porn industry mushroomed, its most lucrative branch turned out to be that of child sexual-abuse materials (the term “child pornography” is no longer used by those in the field, as it implies consent). And as demand for these images increased, so did the abuse that led to their creation.

In 2003, just a few months after Badolato graduated from Quantico, a Crimes Against Children squad was formed in the Atlanta office where she’d been stationed. By then, the FBI was starting to get a handle on the extent of the problem — if not exactly what to do about it. At a weeklong training in Baltimore, Badolato was given a tour of the darkest underbelly of fetish chat groups and then instructed to figure out how to infiltrate. “Everyone was a little nervous,” she explains of the directive. “It was a process, a direction that was new.” Agents were told that they would need to come up with a “persona” and a “story,” and that they would likely have to provide images of children to “prove” they had a minor on offer. They were also told that they could use images of their own children, if they were comfortable doing so (the FBI no longer endorses this policy).

Badolato’s unit with a kidnapping victim after her recovery in 2011. A Health and Human Services review found that roughly 199,000 American minors are sexually exploited each year, and that as many as 325,000 American youths are considered to be at risk of being trafficked in the sex industry.

Badolato developed “Paulina” based on her understanding that any persona would need to share most of her own backstory and traits. “That’s the only way you can really do undercover work,” Badolato says. “People can tell the sincerity in what you’re saying, so there has to be a level of genuineness, but then you just add this criminal element to it.” Most of the things Badolato had told Bolen were true: where she was from, her family background, the monstrousness of her mother, a woman who she says would pass out cigarettes and beers to Badolato’s 13-year-old friends in a state of manic permissiveness one minute and fly into a violent rage about a piece of lint on the floor the next. (Badolato’s mother declined to comment for this article, but a childhood friend corroborated Badolato’s account.) It was true that growing up in an unstable home with a string of stepdads, she had never really felt loved, true that she had divorced her first husband, true that she was raising their three-year-old daughter on her own. The only thing that wasn’t true was her tale of being molested, her initiation into the “lifestyle” — to use the chatroom parlance — that Paulina said she now wanted for her daughter. As Badolato had familiarized herself with the language and behaviors of the chatrooms, she’d honed that added criminal element, imagining what psychological conditions might believably lead a parent to traffic their own child and how those conditions could be grafted onto her real life story. She already had a history of abuse; it was not hard to extrapolate to a fictional stepfather who had seemed to provide a gentle counterpoint, showing her love and making her feel special when no one else had, even if others couldn’t understand. From there, it was easy to convince the chatroom participants that she shared their belief — or justification — that most people had it all wrong and that “child love” was natural, and could even be beneficial for the child.

Badolato estimates that she has arrested more than a thousand people; not one of those arrests has failed to end in a conviction. She didn’t know until she was in the thick of it that most agents refuse this sort of work, that most can’t even pretend to forge a relationship with someone looking to victimize a child. But she could. “Paulina,” she points out, is not a name she chose at random; it’s similar to her own mother’s name. Badolato says she had grown up learning to compartmentalize for the sake of her own emotional survival. She’d perfected the art of engaging with someone whose actions she couldn’t stand. Doing this work had felt like a way of taking her trauma and putting it to good use, of leveraging her past as a safeguard against her daughter’s and other children’s futures.

Of course there were moments that were hard to take — when suspects mentioned which brands of lubrication were best or whether or not a parent might hold a child down. There were times when she knew that even talking about these things was a turn-on for these men, times when the conversations made her nauseous, times when she’d lie awake all night or play back a recording and think, “Holy shit, I listened to this? I said these words?” But she kept faith in the mission. She reminded herself that the pictures she sent of her daughter — the beautiful, little girl sleeping in the next room — did not represent a real child on offer. “I was thinking, ‘If I send this obscure picture of my daughter and he acts on it, then he’s never going to harm my daughter or anybody else’s,’ ” Badolato says now. “I was presenting a fake girl to save a real one.”

KYLE PARKS SEEMED to think he could get away with anything. He seemed to think, for instance, that he could get away with running a brothel, a 1-900 sex line, and a housecleaning company out of the same Columbus, Ohio, office park and under the same oxy-moronic name, XXXREC and Hygiene Services. He seemed to think he could invite one young woman and five teenagers (four of whom he had only just met) on a road trip to Florida, but instead deposit them in two rooms of a Red Roof Inn in St. Charles, Missouri. When they piled out of the minivan — high on the drugs he’d given them — saw snow falling and asked to be taken home, he thought he could make a little money off them first. All it took was a few ads in Backpage — the Craigslist of sex advertisements — and men began showing up.

Even after things started going south for him, Parks couldn’t fathom that he wouldn’t prevail. When someone alerted law enforcement as to what was going on, Parks (who, according to legal documents, had been out getting food when the police showed up) burst into the precinct the next morning looking to bail his “friend” out. When questioned about the 88 condoms found in the back of his van, he said they had been prescribed to him by a doctor. After being taken into custody, he protested that he was being set up. Most people would have cut their losses and pleaded guilty, but not Parks. He thought he could take his case to court and win.

And it wasn’t impossible to imagine that he might. Badolato knew that even the tightest cases could go sideways when put before 12 people who would inevitably enter the courtroom with a cinematic sense of what sex trafficking was supposed to be. In fact, it wasn’t just the jury that Badolato knew she would need to convince; it was also often the victims themselves, young people who had internalized the exact same misconceptions about trafficking that the jury had — along with any number of other judgments society had thrown their way — and who were loath to submit themselves to a courtroom full of more judgment.

Of all of Parks’ underage victims, the hardest to pin down had been a 17-year-old we’ll call Sierra. Once she returned to Columbus, Sierra seemed to basically disappear. Calls to her mother’s number went unanswered. When one of the other victims managed to track her down in December 2016, a month before the case was to go to trial, Sierra agreed to meet Badolato on a blighted Columbus block with a string of dilapidated homes, climbing into the bureau’s Chevy Malibu with matted hair, dirty clothes, and a wary expression.

By this time, Badolato had remarried, had a second child, relocated to St. Louis, and taken over as head of the Child Exploitation Joint Task Force, which had become one of the most productive FBI teams in the country in terms of arrests and convictions. Meanwhile, as the internet streamlined the process of buying or selling any good or service, trafficking had become one of the fastest-growing criminal enterprises, estimated by the Department of Homeland Security to bring in $150 billion globally and considered by many criminals to be a superior business model: If caught, the sentences were often lighter than those for peddling drugs; and unlike crack or heroin, the same product could be “used” again and again and again.

Badolato taught her team of 20 how to do the online undercover work she’d trailblazed in Atlanta, tracking the movements of child-abuse material through the online underworld and then prosecuting those who distributed and produced it. Her new squad also initiated her in the type of undercover work it had been doing before her arrival: covert sting operations in which a detective would pose as a john, set up a “date,” and then meet said date in a hotel room fitted out with hidden recording devices while, in the next room over, a taskforce team listened in, waiting for the code word that would let them know that enough evidence had been gathered for them to swoop in and shut the op down. This had proved a very effective technique for getting convictions, but Badolato’s arrival coincided with both a growing sentiment that consensual sex work had been over-criminalized and an increasing awareness that what looked like consensual sex work might actually be trafficking, no matter what the “date” professed in that hotel room.

Badolato has a tendency to say aloud the things she notices — about you, about others, about situations — observations that are not at all unkind but are perceptive enough that most people would keep them to themselves. She points out when someone deflects, and she has a sharp eye for defense mechanisms. She once casually mentions my tendency to mirror other people’s vocal and speech patterns. She is not shy about bringing up the emotional and physical abuse she says she experienced as a child, and she is quick to comment when someone is making excuses for someone else’s behavior. It was soon clear to her colleagues that Badolato brought a trauma-informed mentality to the work, a tendency to look beyond what someone was doing and instead try to parse why they were doing it. And she was relentless: While some squads did one or two trafficking sting ops a year, her team was doing four or five a month. In addition to the hotel rooms reserved for the john and the team, they would have a social worker set up in a third room, ready to offer services to the victims. They would have lookouts stationed to see who might be dropping the date off. If that date was found to be underage, the case was automatically classified as trafficking. But even if they weren’t, Badolato’s team was primed to get to the bottom of what was going on, to figure out whether they were being manipulated or coerced, and by whom.

“If I could put my hands on a pimp, that’s what I wanted,” says Jeff Roediger, a St. Louis county detective who was the “john” for many of Badolato’s sting ops and who makes clear that the team was not interested in policing voluntary sex work. “When I had those types of cases, and I knew they were being sincere with me, I wouldn’t book them,” he says. “It was all about talking to the girls. It’s not like in the movies where they come running to you. You know, ‘Thanks, you rescued me!’ It’s not like that. A lot of them try to bullshit you at first — ‘That’s my boyfriend, blah blah blah’— but once I talked to them for a while, they would become more forthcoming.”

Badolato’s unit was one of the first in the country to take on this “progressive and proactive” approach, as she puts it. Soon, St. Louis looked like a sex-trafficking capital — not because it was actually trafficking more victims than other cities but because the task force was so aggressively pursuing those cases, and classifying them as what they were. “I mean, I was working in vice for years,” says Roediger. “Back in the day, it was always ‘prostitution,’ ‘prostitution,’ ‘prostitution’ — until we started to figure it out a little bit, until we started digging a little deeper.”

Once they did, the task force found that roughly a third of the sex-trafficking victims they recovered were under the age of 17 — and they began to see the reach of the problem. Kids were being trafficked out of every hotel in the area, from the seediest roach motel to the fanciest Ritz-Carlton. They were being trafficked every time of day and by every socioeconomic group (“Before you go do brain surgery, you got to bust a nut real quick,” one underage victim told Badolato of her high-end clientele). Some of the victims were girls. Some were boys. Some were LGBTQ kids who’d been kicked out of their homes. Some were straight cis kids from the suburbs. “I tell people that I could probably name two or three [kids] in the school district they live in that have been trafficked,” Roediger says. “And they just can’t comprehend it.”

“If I can be perfectly honest, I truly don’t believe that the FBI realizes what they put their agents through doing that kind of work.”

There were kids who were about to age out of foster care (a particularly at-risk group, according to those who work in the field), kids who’d run away, kids who were being sold to pay their family’s rent, or to buy their family member’s drugs. There were kids who’d sit in the hotel room, backpack at their feet, dutifully working on their math homework while agents and social workers tried to figure out what to do with them. Was their home life safe enough that they could be returned to it? Would a residential program take them? Of all the imperfect options, which would make them least likely to be trafficked again?

The one common denominator was this: They all had a vulnerability that could be preyed upon. They all lacked a safety net — societal, familial, emotional, or some combination thereof — that might have broken their fall. Mostly, their stories weren’t dramatic; they were typical American tales of neglect, of abuse doled out casually, of a steady stream of letdowns by people and institutions who should have propped them up. Badolato found that she had a knack for getting them to talk about this, for getting them to open up to her. She didn’t look like an FBI agent — at least not what they’d imagined. She spoke softly, but with authority and a slight vocal fry. And she thinks that, at some level, they could probably sense that she’d once been a vulnerable kid too, that with only a few slightly different twists of fate, she could have become a trafficking victim herself — and that she knew it. “My trauma looks different than theirs, but it’s trauma nonetheless,” she says.

“And I think victims can feel that.”

AS THE TASK force learned more about the psychology of victims, they also learned more about the ways in which their vulnerability was being manipulated, and how those ways were evolving. It was known in law-enforcement circles that once a skilled trafficker set his or her sights on a vulnerable young person, they could be groomed in a matter of days: one day for an introduction, a day or two to make the victim feel special and cared for, and then the day when a “friend” comes over and he needs to be “cared for” as well. Sometimes violence was involved at that point; sometimes drug use was involved throughout. But emotional manipulation was the key element, which is why it was so easy for grooming to move online, for groomers to take advantage of the false senses of connection fostered on social media.

Of the victims who are not being trafficked by family members, the majority are being groomed in this way. “I would say that probably 75 percent of the initial grooming is happening online now,” says Cindy Malott, the director of U.S. Safe Programs at Crisis Aid International. “Recruiters used to have to work really, really hard to get access to kids, but now they’re practically sitting in a child’s bedroom. And kids put everything out there — what’s going on in their life, who they’re angry about, parents are going through a divorce, their insecurities about their body, about themselves, what they do, how they spend their time — so it’s like a gift to these predators.”

The ways to manipulate are legion: Get a kid to send a compromising photo, and she’ll do almost anything to keep you from sending it out to all her Facebook friends; find out a gay kid is still closeted, and the threat of outing him gives you incredible power. And predators aren’t just on Instagram and Snapchat; they lurk in the chat functions of Roblox, Minecraft, Grand Theft Auto. “They’re everywhere,” says Malott. “People think, ‘Oh, I just got to keep my kids away from those porn sites, those horrible places.’ Well, no, predators are gonna go where the kids are.” And once there, they’re going to zero in on the kids who are most vulnerable.

That’s what got to Badolato. In her online undercover work, she’d plumbed the psychology of pedophiles, but now she wasn’t just dealing with suspects; she was spending time with victims and seeing the same vulnerabilities in them that the traffickers had seen: the instability or poverty, the addiction or mental health issues or abuse that had been normalized in their lives long before the traffickers entered them. Sometimes Badolato couldn’t help but feel that all the conspiracies and misconceptions weren’t just a distraction from the truth of trafficking but rather some sick attempt to let society off the hook for trying to solve the much more intractable problems at trafficking’s root.

“People would rather stick their head in the sand than address the real problem, because then you have to face and talk about the societal issues,” she says. “With a movie like Sound of Freedom, it’s like, ‘Oh, this is in a jungle in South America. This isn’t actually in [my neighborhood].’ You know? It’s easier for people to ignore the problem than deal with the issues on a societal level.”

BY THE TIME Badolato was sitting in that Chevy with Sierra, on that blighted Ohio block, she knew that the rate of revictimization for children who are trafficked was as high as 95 percent, according to FBI reports. She knew that 90 percent of sex-trafficking victims have a history of child sexual abuse, that more than 75 percent had lived in foster or adoptive care. She knew that she could arrest one perpetrator, and another would pop up in his place, that she could send one pimp to prison and the same victims would show up to stings some short time later, run by a different crew. She knew that testifying was a way for Sierra to psychologically push back against what had happened to her, and she was right: After the young woman took the stand on Jan. 10, 2017, Parks was found guilty and sentenced to 25 years; while testifying, Sierra had seemed to transform, to channel and embody a sort of empowerment. But Badolato also knew that once her testimony was over, Sierra would go back to that blighted block. She wondered how long that empowerment would last.

She also wondered about her own trajectory, her own ability to continue doing this work. The youngest trafficking victim she’d ever recovered from a sting op — an 11-year-old who’d been recruited through Facebook — had been returned to her family in a house that had no heat (Badolato had used an FBI slush fund to get it turned back on). One did not become immune to the human misery of such things. They compounded, became harder and harder to compartmentalize. “It’s just a combination of all of those years — and it’s all awful,” she says. “But there are particular moments that, for one reason or another, you can’t get out of your head. I just don’t think it’s in human nature to be exposed to that for so long and it not start changing who you are.”

One night, at a restaurant near where Badolato lives, I ask her whether she thinks children are being sex-trafficked right then, in that very moment, in just the mile or two radius around us. She’s quiet for a long time, her gaze fixed downward at her glass of wine. By the time she looks up, her whole body is trembling. “It’s happening right now,” she says quietly. “Right now some little girl is being dropped off in the parking lot of a motel. There are three or four girls holed up in a hotel next to a McDonald’s. It’s not only when we think about it. It is happening all the time. And if I’m just sitting here, present, having dinner, not thinking about it, that means I’m ignoring a problem that I know is real.” Tears stream down her face.

“Many images have never left my mind,” she says. “It’s really hard to have worked your entire life in law enforcement with a lot of child crime victims and be at the end of your career looking at the situation where you realize you can only do so much to make a difference.” Badolato wipes back the tears with the palm of her hand and shudders her head, as if she can shake the thoughts away. “Damn,” she says. “Fuck. I shouldn’t be the one crying. I’m not the victim of this.” The veteran agent steels herself and repeats, “I am not the victim.”

THE HOUSE WHERE Korina Ellison says she was first sex-trafficked no longer exists. It once stood on an unassuming lot in a residential suburb of Portland, Oregon, that stumbles down to the banks of the Willamette River. Now, Ellison can’t quite bring the house’s features to mind. She was so young back then, maybe four or five. There is so much she’s repressed, or only pieced together after the fact. As a child, she wouldn’t have known what she now believes to be true: that her grandmother scored her drugs by offering up her youngest daughter, Ellison’s mom. Or that, once her mom was hooked on the meth cooked by the man who’d lived in that house, she’d known just what to do to get more. But Ellison does remember being inside the house, unclothed. She does remember how the man would touch her.

Her life unspooled from there. Her father died of a heroin overdose when she was six. Her mom lost custody for good. She bounced around foster care, then various residential institutions, then whatever shelter she could find. In the story she tells of how she was sex-trafficked again in her teenage years, there’s no moment of drama, no kidnapping, no clear coercion. There was just a random, rainy afternoon when she had no place to go and was alone in the street and a car pulled up. The man inside took her home with him, fed her, introduced her to his girlfriend. They took her shopping. They let her stay. When men showed up at the home to have sex with the woman, Ellison was invited to watch, but she wasn’t expected to participate — not at first, anyway. According to a statement Ellison later made to law enforcement, she just “realized that people aren’t going to take care of [me] for free.” Soon, the woman was posting Ellison’s services on Backpage — $150 for half an hour, $200 for a full one — and the trio were traveling the Midwest. For a long time, it didn’t even occur to Ellison, then 16, to leave. “Where would I have gone?” she asks. “I’d been missing for over a year. Nobody was looking for me.” When the man told her to call him “Daddy,” she complied.

That was more than a decade ago, near the beginning of Badolato’s tenure as head of the Child Exploitation Task Force. But by 2021, leaving it had seemed a necessary form of self-preservation. One of her last cases had gone well legally: The perp, a retired police officer from California who had produced child sex-abuse materials of three sisters in Manila, had pleaded guilty to such charges when he learned that Badolato had brought the girls to the states to testify against him. But the experience had been emotionally devastating for Badolato, who had wanted the sisters, then 16, 13, and 11, to have memories of the U.S that consisted of more than reliving their trauma in a courtroom. She took them shopping and to the zoo, invited them to her home to have dinner with her own family, saw them slowly start to open up and laugh and behave like the children they were. Then she’d had to put them on a flight back to Manila, back to the aunt who had allowed the man to abuse them and who Badolato had been unable to extradite. Fortunately, she says, their estranged father ended up intervening and taking custody of the girls, but that feeling of futility in the fight lingered.

“I stayed for a little bit longer after that trial, but it really was when I should have been able to look myself in the mirror and say, ‘Nikki, you’re done,’ ” Badolato had told me in St. Louis. “It became clear that I had been doing it too long.” She’d spend the last couple of years working national security, a position without the immediacy of child-exploitation work, but also without the heartache. “If I can be perfectly honest, I truly don’t believe that the FBI realizes what they put their agents through doing that kind of work. I just don’t,” she says.

And yet, here Badolato was in Portland, leading Ellison, now 30, up to her hotel room, telling her about all the announcements she’d heard in the Atlanta airport instructing travelers to be on the lookout for sex trafficking. “It’s like white noise in the background,” she says as Ellison settles into the sofa. “It’s a false sense of doing something to help.”

“Here’s the thing: Nobody knows what to look for,” Ellison agrees.

“And what about the victims who are in that airport, who are walking around and listening?” Badolato asks.

“I wouldn’t have even heard that announcement,” Ellison replies. “Because I didn’t feel like a victim. It goes a lot, lot, lot deeper than anybody realizes.”

That’s what she and Badolato both understand. That’s why they started talking eight months ago. Of all the teenage victims Badolato’s task force recovered, Ellison is one of the few who she knows has permanently extricated herself from being prostituted, though it took years for her to get to that point, years for her to see that what happened to her was not her fault but rather a fault in the system, a fault in many systems over the course of generations. Neither she nor Badolato can fix that.

Yet they can’t help feeling like there’s something they can fix — or at least try to. Under the umbrella of an organization she’s founded called Innocent Warriors, Badolato created a program for schools, instructing educators on the signs that might indicate a student is being trafficked and teaching kids how to avoid getting groomed online, which, she believes, is not about stranger danger but rather an awareness of subtle manipulation. Ellison has been working with trafficked youth through nonprofits like Children of the Night, the residential program where Badolato’s team sent her when she was 17. Together, they’ve been talking about having Ellison help train undercovers who are learning to do trafficking sting ops. They’ve also discussed starting a mentorship program in which children who are still being sex-trafficked are paired with young adults like Ellison who once were, providing a way for victims to begin to envision a different future for themselves and a path toward it even while being prostituted. Such a program may be retroactive rather than proactive, but it would capitalize on Badolato’s and Ellison’s experience and expertise — and it could help in the healing of mentors and mentees alike.

Badolato had traveled to Portland for the two to talk face-to-face about how the program might work. “You have to understand how they’ve been traumatized because sometimes, to a child, relating doesn’t sound like you’re relating. It sounds like you’re pointing out all the bad things in them,” says Ellison from the driver’s seat of her Nissan Pathfinder as she drives Badolato around to show her certain landmarks of her past after she’d left Children of the Night: the bridge she’d slept under for over a year after a boyfriend had gotten her hooked on heroin, the blocks downtown where she’d bounced between a children’s shelter and the needle exchange. It had taken a prison sentence for her to finally break her addiction and commit to a different kind of life, though that evolution had had less to do with not having access to drugs than with seeing her own mother cycle in and out of the same facility — like looking into her own future and witnessing how bleak it would be. Maybe, she thought, she could provide the inverse of that for kids in Innocent Warriors. Maybe she could reverse engineer her own escape.

“I just want to make it very clear that if you were a victim, you are a victim, and just to not have any shame in that,” she tells Badolato as they drive through Portland’s misty streets.

“What I anticipate and hope is that then we get survivors that are like, ‘They get it,’ ” Badolato replies. “And that it opens up doors to help, for people to recognize that there are people who get what’s really going on.”

“It took a really long time for me,” Ellison says of coming to terms with her own victimhood.

“It’s like reworking your thought process about some of those things,” Badolato agrees. “And that’s hard, and it happens slowly over time, and it looks different for everybody.”

Ellison grips the wheel tightly. “The truth does matter. It does. The truth is the fucking truth. And it’s been empowering to be able to talk about it because that’s another way that I’ve realized, like, ‘Man, I was a victim,’ is re-going over all of this. Because when it happens so many times, you do blame yourself. It’s a lot easier to just continue to live in a lie than believe that you were lied to.”

Still, Ellison and Badolato agree that the impressionability that makes children vulnerable is also what makes them open to guidance and mentorship if a relationship of trust can be established. “What do you think a parent does? They groom you. I’d been waiting to be guided and groomed,” Ellison says.

It’s been instructive to see that potential from another perspective, as a mother doing the guiding. As the afternoon wears on, Ellison stops to pick up her then-15-month-old son, who was being watched by a social-worker friend. She buckles the little boy into his car seat, ruffles his hair, and passes him a bottle. He grins widely and begins removing his shoes and socks, throwing them gleefully onto the floor of the car and then kicking his tiny feet in time with the music as Ellison glances back at him and smiles. “Kids are so perfect,” she says.

The last stop of the day is the large plot of land where the drug dealer’s house once stood. Now, it’s been turned into a playground, with brightly-colored jungle gyms, a covered picnic area, and a large lawn, where a couple leisurely walks their dog. Ellison and Badolato climb down from the car and stand at the park’s edge, as Ellison’s son toddles around the grass, oblivious to what had transpired in that very spot. There is some form of poetic justice in the land being earmarked for children’s enjoyment, but neither woman voices it. Mostly, they’re quiet. Night is falling, the air growing cooler, and the gray sky fading into dusk.

“You would never think a park could hide what it used to be,” Ellison says at last. And yet it did. Driving off with Badolato at her side and her son babbling happily in the back seat, Ellison glances in the rear-view mirror, but only for a moment. Badolato keeps her eyes fixed only on the road ahead.

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luvj4key · 3 months

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jake as your boyfriend headcanons ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

୨ৎ female reader x jake, ୨ৎ fluff, established relationship ୨ৎ cw: kissing, skinship ୨ৎ 0.3k

Definitely has a picture of you in his wallet

Also has you or a picture of the two of you as his lockscreen

Speaking of photos, he has SO MANY pictures of you

→ Most likely to have a whole album dedicated to you

Has matching rings and bracelets with you

LOVES spoiling you

→ He buys you things when he’s overseas

→ He absolutely loves to buy you Prada and Tiffany & Co no matter how much you tell him not to (bro has to stay loyal)

Absolutely head over heels in love with you and would do anything and everything to prove it

Knows every little thing about you

→ Even mentions it to his friends and members

Sends you good morning and good night messages

Makes you a playlist

Mentions you very often

Is so giggly around you

→ Gets all smiley when you kiss, maybe even giggle

Stares at you every moment he gets

HAS to touch you every opportunity he gets

Lowkey jealous (he doesn’t like it when other people show any sign of romantic interest in you)

→ But at the same time he loves to show you off cause how could he not?

→ “Yeah that’s my girl”

→ SO so proud of you

Absolutely has nicknames for you

→ Heavy on “my love”, “baby”, “pretty”, “princess”

→ Gets butthurt if you don’t use the nicknames you have for him

He’s a cuddler

Has a thing with stroking/patting your head

NECK KISSES

Again, absolutely whipped for you

→ Smiles when you smile, laughs when you laugh, gets sad when you’re sad, etc

Princess treatment duh

→ Will go over the top to make you happy

→ Compliments you 24/7

→ Speaks to you in a soft tone, never raises his voice at you

→ A whole different person when he’s with you honestly

Dates to marry so expect a proposal from him eventually

⋆˚✿˖° author's note: hihi everyone! i'm not sure if anyone's gonna read this but i'm back! for those wondering, i used to write on my old account @minilinooo but then i decided to quit writing for awhile but i've realized how much i missed it so i decided to come back and start fresh so here i am :)

©luvj4key, all work is written by me. do not copy or repost

#₊˚ෆ luvj4key's collection: enha #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #sim jaeyun #jake sim imagines #enhypen scenarios #jake sim fluff #enhypen jake #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #jake headcanons

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1989tvcore · 1 month

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tied by music. - charles leclerc. chapter one.

summary; in which a songwriter gets in contact with the il predestinato to help her in creating her most personal album.

face claim; taylor swift

pairing(s); charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader, zayn malik x ex! fem! singer! reader. smau.

warning(s); toxic/unfaithful relationship, reader in a very bad mental state during break-up but she’s eventually healed, zayn is the douchebag i sincerely apologise. </3 (most of these are shown in the following parts)

author note; can we please um… ignore the fact that um… this is literally the script for my um… fame dr… ANYWAYS HERE’S COMPOSER CHARLES TO COMFORT YOU! 🤍 this series will have many parts or maybe just two, we’ll see how it plays out.

masterlist | chapter 2

english isn’t my first language, credits to rightful owners.

popbase

liked by y/nayncrumbs, ynphobic and 45,771 others

popbase Song-writer & Musician Y/N Y/LN & former One-Direction & Musician member Zayn Malik have officially broken up after 6 years of being together, TMZ reports.

tagged: youryusername, zayn

view all comments

user6 oh that y/nayn stan account must be crying now that the rumors are confirmed …

y/nayncrumbs user6 i literally just turned suicidal.

ynphobic y/nayncrumbs u know damn well this was long due …

user47 user6 can you blame them?

user58 THANK GOD, that man was insufferable when it came to their relationship

user13 user58 silent like

user0 user58 do y’all ever shut up

user58 user0 just wait until y/n releases a new album x

user99 NO PLS SAY SIKE RN

user33 user99 YES PLS DO I CAN’T HANDLE THIS I’M IN CLASS

user13 user99 girl she’s free???

user1989 wait a sec … remember when we got y/n6 rumors a few months ago?? DID HE CHEAT?? ZAYN IT’S ON SIGHT.

user17 user1989 they might’ve just not announced it when they actually broke up 🤡

user1989 user17 they were spotted together multiple times during y/n6 rumors and he was literally ignoring her while talking to models???

user16 why is nobody mentioning how charles leclerc has literally been helping y/n to make y/n6???

user55 user16 same question right here.

user4 user16 how do you know it’s for y/n6?

user16 user4 y/n has mentioned multiple times that she admires charle’s music and would love to work with him on a project of hers or his

user77 user16 Y/N IS A F1 GIRLIE??

user16 user77 since she was a child 🤧

yourusername just posted a story!

seen by charles_leclerc, oliviarodrigo and 1,403,758 others

user1989 GIRL WE KNOW THAT’S CHARLES’ KEYBOARD

user13 this album will break us all so bad.

user16 hi pls attend the next grand prix tyvm

charles_leclerc you must be in jail for not sending me the first picture.

yourusername charles_leclerc surprise? 😁

charles_leclerc yourusername yeah yeah whatever now send me the picture so i can make it my wallpaper 😌

charles_leclerc just posted a story!

seen by yourusername, f1, landonorris and 997,410 others.

user1989 SHUT UP IT’S LITERALLY THE SAME KEYBOARD

f1wagsource soft launch, no?

user65 CHARLES HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS.

yourusername no bc i’m literally announcing our baby tomorrow

charles_leclerc yourusername I know 🫶🏻

yourusername charles_leclerc i’m so nervous

charles_leclerc yourusername there’s no reason to be nervous sweetheart. whatever happens I’m here.

yourusername charles_leclerc stop being such a good boyfriend you know i’m not used to men like you 😔

charles_leclerc yourusername I really don’t plan on stopping anytime soon cherié.

yourusername charles_leclerc please do not! i love you 💞💓💕💗💝💘💖

charles_leclerc yourusername i love you too babe, now go rest you’ve got many promotions starting tomorrow.

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande and 13,400,239 others

yourusername Surprise surprise! The first single of my new album “Metanoia” (coming out April 23), “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” comes out tomorrow evening!

Thank you my whole team for making this album possible. I’m so grateful for all the wonderful and talented artists who took part in the creation of “Metanoia”, truly couldn’t be more lucky to have people like you by my side. Whether that is as colleagues or friends. In addition, there was one special someone who took HUGE part in writing, composing and producing this album with me, someone who I have very close to my heart. @charles_leclerc, the man, the monegasque himself. Thank you for agreeing to helping me bring into real life my deepest emotions and thoughts, you stood by me during very hard times in my life, I will always be thankful for that. Studio sessions with you are my only good memories of the hell I’ve been through last year.

And to the fans, thank you for supporting me always. I hope you’re excited for this project as much as I am. See you tomorrow for the premiere of the “we can’t be friends (wait for you love)” music video!

view all comments

arianagrande congrats!! can’t wait to listen♡

liked by author

yourusername arianagrande my girl 🤍

iamrebeccad can’t wait for tomorrow 🥰

liked by author

yourusername iamrebeccad love you so much. 🥹💗

francisca.cgomes album of the year already

liked by author

yourusername francisca.cgomes tearing up, thank you so much kika. 🥹🤍

lilymhe so in love with you! 💗

liked by author

yourusername lilymhe my #1 gf 🥹💞

alex_albon lilymhe excuse me?

rachelzegler I THINK I’M CRYING??

liked by author

niallhoran Congrats sis!

yourusername niallhoran Thank you Niall! 🫶🏻

user29 niallhoran oh zayn fucked up big time

user32 niallhoran THEIR FRIENDSHIP IS EVERYTHING

ynayncrumbs niallhoran oh it’s really over.

user1989 DID I ACTUALLY JUST MANIFEST Y/N6????

user13 user1989 OH MY FUCK YOU DID

user45 user1989 I think you graduated from tom holland manifestation university!

user16 WHERE’S THE TRACKLIST??

user88 user16 she’ll probably reveal it later

user99 EVERYONE SHUT UP NEW Y/N MV TOMORROW!!?!?

user30 user99 I’ve got a feeling it’ll have a love interest

user99 user30 SAME

charles_leclerc So proud of you! ❤️

liked by author

yourusername charles_leclerc Thank you Charlie! 🥹

ynphobic charles_leclerc I think I’m not breathing anymore.

user49 charles_leclerc I’M CRYING TEARS OF HAPPINESS.

landonorris having early access to this album: it’s good ig…

yourusername landonorris did you think the same when you were crying to the whole tracklist?

landonorris yourusername YOU DID NOT.

alex_albon landonorris get ended nowins 🤣‼️

landonorris alex_albon FUCK YOU

user11 I’M LITERALLY CRYING BC WDYM CHARLES ALMOST GOT A PARAGRAPH DEDICATED TO HIM??

yourusername user11 he deserves it more than anything. 🤍

taglist; @formulaonebuff @ironspdy @sleepybrokenmelle @dreamergirlatpaddock @taygrls

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little-diable · 6 months

Text

I'd rather be with you – Spencer Reid (smut)

I won't lie, I love a good enemies to lovers Spencer fic. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Spencer hate one another, at least in the moments where they're not tangled beneath the sheets.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (m), face fucking, bickering, love confession, enemies to lovers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (2.3k words)

Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every thrust, with every moan leaving her as if it was her last. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every jerk of his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into her. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every call off her name, with every tug on the small pendant dangling between her breasts.

The necklace was a reminder, a reminder whenever Spencer’s eyes snapped down to it, momentarily distracted from the case they were working on – just for a second or two, though seconds too long for a man with a brain like Spencer‘s. She was his nemesis, the one that has taught him what it means to hate somebody, but yet, in the moments where he fucked her on the nearest surface, he couldn’t remember the hate she elicited inside of him.

“Spencer? Shit, I truly fucked your brains out last night, huh?” A dark chuckle left (y/n) as she leaned back against the table, arms crossed in front of her chest. A growl left the smart man, murmuring something under his breath she couldn’t pick up on. And yet her smirk didn’t waver, glued to her lips.

Before Spencer could reply with snarky words rolling off his tongue, Derek had stepped into the room that had been assigned to them. His eyes were focused on his phone, speaking to Penelope with a bright smile – a sight that left (y/n) fawning over the two. Whenever she watched Penelope and Derek interact, she felt some kind of hope burning inside of her, a kind of hope that left her praying that somebody will eventually treat her with this much love and respect.

“I’ll talk to you later, babygirl.” Derek hung up the call before his eyes first found (y/n)’s and then Spencer’s, smirking at the two profilers. “Good to see that you didn’t kill one another while I was gone. Hotch wants you two to visit the unsub’s childhood home again.”

“But we’ve been there this morning?” Spencer cut into the conversation before (y/n) could ask the same question. An annoyed huff left her, very well knowing what he was trying to do, taking away the focus from the woman he couldn’t stand, the woman he had always detested, hated since the first case they had worked together.

“Hotch wants us to go through the photo albums again, maybe we’ve missed something, and why not send our two superbrains to go through the pictures. It’d take the rest of us way too long to do it.” (Y/n) had already reached for her jacket before Derek had finished his sentence, watching with amusement glistening in his eyes how Spencer followed her out of the room, probably already plotting over a new chance to finally murder her.

……

“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer.” Her moans echoed through the foggy bathroom, back pressed against his front as he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. The warm water kept streaming down their bodies, washing away the reminders of the past day, of their arguments, and their bottled emotions.

His teeth left marks on the spot where her neck met her shoulders, drawing pained whines from (y/n). She couldn’t speak up, couldn’t remember how to speak, fully distracted by the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot with every thrust. She was putty in his hands, allowing him to do as he pleased. No matter the spiteful words she wanted to speak, riling him up even further, she kept quiet, not daring to push Spencer away when she was so very close to her release.

“Look at that, did I finally manage to shut you up?” His words were rough, dripping with a mean undertone that momentarily managed to rip her out of her state.

“Fuck you, Spencer, don’t act as if–” her rambling was cut short by the feeling of Spencer pulling away, leaving her empty. (Y/n) clumsily turned around in his grasp, staring up at the man with wide eyes, wondering what was about to happen.

“Onto your knees, it seems like you still haven’t learned your lesson.” She struggled to drop to her knees, holding onto him as the water kept cascading down his back. Spencer forced his cock into her mouth, making her choke on the air lingering inside her lungs. He fucked her mouth with moans clawing through him, sounds that left her swollen bundle of nerves pulsing.

Spencer had always been rough with her, taking the upper hand she claimed around their team, stealing his title of being smarter than them all. He had detested her from the start, jealous of the way she managed to interact with the team, how she seemed to know how to handle every situation, no matter her high IQ. Perhaps it truly was jealousy that had pushed him away, not understanding how someone with an IQ almost as high as his didn’t struggle to with simple interactions like he did, how she made it seem so effortlessly easy.

“You act as if you’re so much better, as if you don’t give a shit about me. But let me tell you something, doll,” a groan left Spencer as one of her hands found his cock, holding onto the part he hadn’t pushed down her throat just yet. “You are nothing special.”

Spencer was too far gone to pick up on the hurt expression tugging on her features, no longer focusing on the sounds he made, on the way his cock rested on her tongue, all she could focus on were his words, the spiteful insults. Her heart skipped a few beats, unsure how to react, not understanding what he was trying to tell her.

“They don’t see through your pathetic games, you’re nothing but an imposter, but trust me, I always win, every single game.” His cock twitched in her mouth, about to cum down her throat, about to force her to swallow his every drop. Perhaps she deserved being treated like this after the things she had said today, the way she had made fun of him - whatever it had been, (y/n) was now paying the price.

He came with a moan, head rolling back, hand gripping her hair. (Y/n) didn’t dare move, unable to stop thinking of the words he had spoken, of the insults he had thrown his way. She barely noticed how he pulled away, how he reached a hand out of her to take, pulling her back to her feet.

No further words were spoken between the two, she didn’t give him a chance to fuck her again, to push her over the edge. She left the shower before he could touch her again, quickly redressing herself to find her way to her hotel room.

……

The sound of somebody softly knocking on her door forced her eyes away from her book. She needed a few seconds to snap into motion, wondering who wanted to speak to her that late in the evening, wondering if it was Hotch to tell her that they had a breakthrough with their case. But the sight of Spencer waiting in front of her door left her frozen in her movements, looking at him with raised eyebrows and confusion swimming in her pupils.

“Can I?” (Y/n) stepped aside, allowing him to find his way into the room, walking towards the bed she had been laying on moments ago. They were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence, looking at one another to try and figure out what he was doing, why he had found his way to her.

“It’s late Spencer, what are you doing here?” Her voice had an unfamiliar undertone to it, urged on by the uncertainty she felt, still focusing on the angry words he had spoken earlier. He cleared his throat, gaze flickering down to his slender fingers, fumbling with them as his mind kept racing, trying to speak up, trying to say the words he struggled to speak out loud.

“I haven’t met many people who have an IQ that’s way above the ordinary, well, at least not normal people who aren’t killers. I am not used to feeling intimidated, but I am used to being the one people make fun of, I am used to feeling alone and to being the outsider. But it had never been like that with the team, they’ve accepted me and the way I am, I didn’t have to prove myself like I had been forced to do before meeting them. But then you joined the team, and suddenly I was once again back to being caught in a fight of proving myself. For the first time in years I no longer feel like I fit in.” His words made tears well up in her eyes, slowly sitting down next to the rambling man with her hand finding his warm one. (Y/n) squeezed his hand, encouraging Spencer to keep on speaking, to let go of the bottled up words he had tried to swallow down for the past months.

“Hating you is so much easier than accepting that you’re everything I’ve always wanted. Hating you is so much easier than forcing myself to accept that I don’t have any reason to be jealous of you, than accepting that you’re perfect for me. You’re everything I’ll never be.” A shaky breath left Spencer, once again allowing the thick silence to wrap itself around the two. She needed quite a few moments to speak up, to see through the information he had just dumped on her.

“I knew that there was some kind of jealousy that left you to treat me like that, and I guess I gave in, I played the game instead of trying to figure out why you acted like that. I am sorry that I make you feel like that, Spence. But fuck, you truly have nothing to be jealous of. You’re so much more than just a smart brain, and whoever won’t see that must be blind.” Their eyes met, making a small smile tug on Spencer’s lips before he titled his head down to softly kiss her. The gasp leaving (y/n) allowed him to deepen the kiss, hand letting go of hers to pull her into his lap.

“I am sorry for being such an asshole who is heavily crushing on you.” A laugh broke through (y/n) at his words, forehead falling against his.

“I am sorry for being such a bitch who is heavily crushing on you.” (Y/n) found herself being pushed down on the mattress, with Spencer laying half on her and half on the mattress, lips locked in a loving kiss. One of his hands started to wander, finding its way under her shirt, down to her panties.

“I owe you at least two orgasms, don’t I?” She couldn’t reply, interrupted by a moan as his fingers pushed her panties aside, finding her pulsing clit. Spencer moved his fingers just the way she needed him to, touching her like he had done numerous times before. Her heart was pounding, mind hazy and filled with lust, purely focusing on Spencer.

“I want to cum on your cock, fuck me again, please Spence.” He shuffled around, pulling her panties down before he freed his hard cock. Neither of them wanted to waste any time, set on properly fucking, needing to feel one another close. (Y/n) watched him spit into his hand, lubing himself up before he pushed into her.

(Y/n)’s moans spurred him on, arms finding their way around his neck, tugging him down for a greedy kiss. He fucked her ruthlessly, though without any anger guiding him, allowing his heart to finally give into the love he felt for her. No longer were they speaking hateful words, no longer were they set on making one another pay for their teasing, fucking like lovers for the first time.

“I love you, so fucking much.” His words left (y/n) gasping in surprise, eyes rolling back into her head the second his skilled fingers found her bundle of nerves. Her sounds made him feel as if he had ascended to heaven, engulfed by the sounds no human had ever been fortunate enough to hear. And even as she spoke the loving three words he had just spoken, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from staring down on her.

Spencer picked up his pace, fucking her into the mattress like a mad man, set on leaving marks that would stay for eternity, never fading, always renewed by his wandering fingers and lips. He marveled at (y/n), hoping that he’d never part from her again, he wouldn’t survive being away from her, needing her like a shot of insulin to save his heart.

“Fuck, feels so good.” His cock stretched her perfectly, forcing her walls to adjust as he kept pounding into her, not holding back with his lips pulled into a smirk and his eyes staring down on her. She clawed her fingernails into his skin, drawing blood from the marks she left, leaving Spencer torn between a hiss and a moan.

The second he added more strength to his touch, rubbing her clit faster than before, she gave in, tumbling over the edge without another warning. His name left her over and over again, guiding him through his own high. She felt him paint her walls white, heard him choke on his moans, saw him collapse on top of her.

And for the first time since they’ve started sleeping with one another, neither of them felt the need to escape, to hide away from the other.

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid x reader #criminal minds smut #Spencer Reid imagine

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kindestofkings · 6 months

Text

what came first, the chicken or the dickhead [2/3]

[smau]

f1driver!reader x lando norris (eventually, friends to lovers ofc)]

authors note: THANK YOU SOOO much for the love on part one guys I'm so overwhelemed 🥺 hope you guys enjoy this next part <33

yourusername

Liked by landonorris and others

yourusername I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now

Why? Oh, 'cause she's about kick off her first season with ferrari xx

view all 580 comments

landonorris shes in her reputation era 💅

yourusername i've trained you so well

ynfan1 I'm so excited to see you in that red car ❤️🔥

Racerbia I can't believe my bestie is a FERRARI DRIVER

yourusername I know can you believe it!! best of luck with your season this year <33

charles_leclerc I did not know you joining the team would result in me learning so many taylor swift lyrics

landonorris just you wait until she starts sending you fan theories.. yourusername charlie you'd get an A in taylor swift theory and lyric knowledge, dont fight it !! f1fan she calls him charlie they have to be dating!

ynfan1 charles_leclerc what's your favourite Tswift album?

charles_leclerc I think its Red charles_leclerc (TAYLOR'S VERSION THO) yourusername phew that was a close one

taylorswift never seen a getaway car driver look so good, knock em dead 🖤

yourusername omgomgomgomgomgomg mother, I mean miss Swift its an honour landonorris oh thats why shes inconsolably crying alex_albon is that what that scream was? ynfan2 shes been broken

scuderiaferrari

liked by yourusername and others

scuderiaferrari red era vibes with our dynamic duo locking it down here in bahrain! our two drivers are ready for sunday 👊

view all 290 comments

ynfan1 the power of yourusername, converting the whole ferrari team into being swifties 😂

yourusername you know it! I'm a swiftie first, a media nightmare second and THEN a f1 driver

f1fan enough with the pop culture comparisons. what matters is the race, not taylor swift. Let the performance do the talking

ynfan2 how sad is your little life??

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others

yourusername P3 babyyy, while your out here running your mouth still I'm busy getting on to that podium. Bahrin you were beautiful, thank you to the team and to charles for all the support this weekend, and just in general ❤️

congrats maxverstappen1 on opening the season with such a surprising (not) win! was a fun fight 😂

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maxverstappen1 think you going to be a reoccurring problem now!

yourusername it me hi! im the problem its me xx (liked by taylorswift and others)

ynfan1 I never expected the f1/taylor swift cross over but i love this

f1fan making the tifosi so proud 👊❤️

maxfewtrell fantastic drive, so proud!!!

yourusername maxi my boy <3

charles_leclerc posted to their story!

-@carlossainz55 would never have done this to me 😞

f1wagsupdates

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f1wagsupdates in the week coming to the monaco grand prix, it appears the two ferrari drivers are spending time together with leclerc's family! seems like a bit more than just teammate bonding 👀

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yncharlesshipper wow the family, must be serious

ynlando4ever please please please be besties

ynfan1 its getting hard to be delulu about this 😀

yourusername posted a photo to their story!

Mwahahahah mama leclerc the women than you are

replies

charles_leclerc when did this exchange happen 😂 arthur_leclerc 😂 😂 😂 😂 landonorris troy bolten and justin beiber call they want hair tips x

yourusername

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yourusername MONACOOOO its race day and you best believe I'm bringing my A game in defensive racing. il predestinato will break his monaco curse if its the last thing I do 😤

charles_leclerc starting p1 go slay this thing bestie!!

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charles_leclerc the best 👊

scuderiaferrari teamwork makes the dream work 🔥

f1fan gasly could NEVER with the teamwork

ynfan1 ouch that bestie has gotta hurt 😬

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername and others

charles_leclerc best. day. ever.

winning in red and winning at home has always been the dream, thank you thank you everyone for the support in getting here! special thanks to yourusername for the incredibly defense and helping reach my dream 🫶

this one's for you, monaco!

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scuderiaferrari we always knew you could do it 👊🔥

yourusername CHARLIEEE always knew you could do it !

carlossainz55 amazing felicidades

charles_leclerc thank you thank you

maxverstappen1 hate to lose but congrats mate!

pierregasly living out your destiny 💪 that was all you charles!

ynfan1 pierre try not to make a petty comment challenge: FAILED (liked by yourusername)

f1fan monaco belongs to you, il predestinato!!!

yourusername posted a photo to their story!

they both prefer each other over me guys help 😭😭

replies

landonorris my best girl 🥰 -> me?? so kind! landonorris 😑😑

I just tagged a few peps that I thought were waiting out for part 2! let me know if you're not comfortable being tagged :))

taglist: @kissesandmartinis @kissesandmartinis @vellicora @reidside @leclercin16

2/3 , part three is coming later tonight its gonna be fluffy i promise 💓

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic #f1driver!reader #smau

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petcr3 · 2 months

Text

don't shed no tears | bradley bradshaw x reader

summary: you have a terrible day. bradley has a plan.

word count: 845

warnings: bradley calls the reader my girl, this one is very short lol!

You almost hold it together.

Really, you almost do.

But your work day seemed determined never to end. Each time you thought you’d gotten on top of what you needed to do, there was a new fire to put out. It was as if everything that could have gone wrong did, and just about everyone you encountered during your day was in a foul mood.

Even so, you had pushed through frustration after frustration, and finally made it home. It’s your day off tomorrow and you get to spend the rest of your night with your boyfriend. Things are looking up.

Any other day, you would have laughed it off. But when you finally let yourself plop down on the couch that’s flush with your living room wall and bang your head, the dam just breaks.

The sound of a particularly forceful “motherfucker!” sends Bradley bolting downstairs, and when he sees you crouched forward, your face in your hands, he’s on his knees in front of you in seconds.

“Honey? What happened, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” you say miserably.

“You don’t sound fine.” You don’t respond for a moment. The rough pad of his thumb wipes a wayward tear from your cheek. “You’re crying, hun.”

“I’m fine,” you repeat, voice wavering, “I just hit my head.”

“You hit your head?” You want to curl up and wither away. This is so embarrassing. It’s only the worry in his voice that makes you look up.

“Not hard. I just clonked it when I sat down. I’m… I had a really bad day. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t apologize. Not your fault you had a bad day. C’mere.” Bradley leans forward, still kneeling in front of you, and wraps you in his arms. You sag into his embrace, and tears begin to darken the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. A little sob works its way out of your chest.

“Not–– not really.” You feel Bradley’s mustache before his lips as he turns to press a kiss to your temple.

“That’s okay,” he coos, “It’s okay.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then: “I have an idea.”

You aren’t particularly pleased when he gets up, but you don’t have it in you to complain. His footfalls are quiet on the carpet as he pads over to the record player and starts fiddling around.

“What are you doing?” you hazard after a moment.

“I can’t tell you,” he says. “Just hang on a second–– this is gonna be romantic as shit.” You let out a little giggle through your tears, and he grins over his shoulder at you. Leave it to Bradley to make you laugh when all you want to do is crawl into a hole and never come out.

A little flash of blue catches your eye as he finds whatever album he’s been searching for, but you don’t get a good enough look to suss out what it is. Finally, he drops the needle, and you hear the opening notes of No Woman No Cry. The organ plays softly, and you sniffle as a fresh wave of tears hits you. Bradley holds out his hand.

“Dance with me?” You wipe your eyes and nod, shuffling into his arms. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and draws you in, settling you against his chest with a hand at the nape of your neck. Relief floods through you at the warmth of his touch, the slow and comforting beat of the music, the sway of your bodies.

“I love you,” you mumble into his chest.

“I love you too, baby. I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

“It’s much better now.” That makes him smile. The rest of the song plays out to comfortable silence as you rock back and forth together. It’s a longer cut–– the live version Bradley is playing is a little more than seven minutes–– and eventually, you find that you’re cried out. As the song ends and the crowd on the recording begins to cheer, you tilt your chin up to look at him.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Hey, anything to see my girl smile.” And you do, tilting your head down bashfully.

As the cheers fade, the next song on the record begins to play and the plucky guitar of Could You Be Loved fills the room. Unable to help himself, Bradley begins to bob along with the rhythm. He withdraws a little from the embrace and takes your hands, bouncing your arms back and forth. You feign a pout, but it’s useless. As usual, Bradley Bradshaw is sunshine, fending off the gathering clouds until all you can see is him. You relent and begin to match his movements and he breaks into a beautiful, enormous grin.

As you dance late into the night, you remember that this is what it’s all about. That no matter how awful your day is, you have someone to come home to that knows, without fail, how to lift you up.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun maverick imagine #tgm imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster x you

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

Eren fucking us in the Grammys bathroom before winning his reward. 😵‍💫

bro I’m sliding down the wall!! 😵‍💫😵‍💫 why did this exact thought cross my mind? Say no more.

cw: public and mirror sex, gagging, breeding, choking

it was a night in music that had been long celebrated since its inception many decades ago. Some would consider it the pinnacle of one’s musical success and a crown achievement in their career. The 54th Annual Grammy Awards, where some of the industry’s biggest stars would make an appearance. Including (y/n) (l/n) and your very talented husband, EJ, who happened to be nominated for four different awards this year; ranging from best songwriter, album of the year and even song of the year. It was a huge honor, considering that he wasn’t much for award shows and he was fairly low key. Not to mention, he just didn’t give a fuck about these events all that much…especially when his trophy was already on his arm. From the moment you came down the steps in that Mugler gown that fit like a glove, watching your hips sway as you walked on the red carpet and even left the print of your lipstick on his cheek before getting out of the limo..the only thing at the forefront of his mind was how badly he wanted to finish this up and get you alone. Too bad, he wasn’t much in the way of waiting and instead, whisked you away to the first vacant restroom, bent you over the sink and shoved his dick inside of you. The hem of that thousand dollar dressed clutched in his fist as his pants resided at his hips.. “ha!—ah..eren..fuck..” crying out in a choked up moan; watching your own expression contort through fluttering eyes, trying your best to keep them in the front of your head. But that was all but impossible feeling your husband beat your pussy sore in the bathroom of this prestigious event! He could care less about the whole politicking and who was who..not when he could relentlessly rut his hips and let your soaking heat clamp around him. With your leg hiked up against the marble countertop, Eren snaked a hand around your throat..the fractals of his AP beaming underneath the soft lighting as he choked you out; eventually fucking your pretty little mouth with two fingers to quell and quiet you. “Gotta be quiet, baby..don’t want anyone hearing us, do you?” Ironically stating, considering the fact your skin was smacking and the sound echoed throughout the empty stalls. He was trying his hardest not to smear your makeup or mark you up too much but god, he couldn’t restrain himself. Not when you felt so fucking good..dripping all down his shaft and only seconds from squirting everywhere. That plump ass being thrown back on his pelvis as well. Panting, moaning and whimpering, you’d look back at him with a sneaky expression..knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist that stare. “..let ‘em listen…I don’t give a fuck.” It seemed that was all the motivation he needed to fill you full and send you out into that crowd full of his seed. Jutting forward, he’d slam his base into your backside; speeding up his movements as he were getting closer. The pulsation of his member resonating throughout your walls. “Well if it’s like that, princess…lemme hear it then..” with that hand still clutching you, he’d lean over and nip at your ear, whispering into it while speeding up. “Who’s pussy is this? Tell me who that shit belongs to..” growling and grunting with those tight nerves flexing around him. Hoping you’d give him that final push and once you answered, Eren folded faster than you could get the words out of your mouth. “You, daddy..it’s yours.” With your faces pressed together, meshed for a messy, sloppy kiss..he’d make a couple more unrhythmic strokes before you felt that warm nut spill into that slippery sex. You both came simultaneously..letting you become before you parted ways. There was a huge grin plastered across his face and a fucked out, slutty expression over yours. That was the most intense quickie you’d ever had but that was only a teaser..a taste of how the remainder of the night would go once you finished up here. Giving you a soft pat on the ass before you two pulled yourselves together. “Don’t worry, baby. I got more for you once I win these awards. Let’s hurry up so I can get you all the way up out that dress.”

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aohisworld · 1 month

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MAGNETIC PULSE! 02

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ ENHYPEN’s new co-ed group starts their first album, MANIFESTO. Aohi makes a mistake that allows Jungwon, to give her a bit of sympathy that she didn’t ask for.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ eventual poly!ot7 x added member!oc. (jungwon centric). contains. angst, a little arguing, a smooch, uhm cringe writing lol.

| : ̗̀➛ MINTIE’s NOTES: Jungwon chapter yippee yippee!! Also important announcement that my asks are open now, and I’d love to get some interactions :3 don’t be a silent reader! Reblog, comment, send an ask!!

| : ̗̀➛ WARNING! How I write ENHYPEN is not meant to portray the idols irl, this is my au and I write this for fun. contains angst and a little bit of bickering/awkward tension.

✧. ┊ Jungwon was always born to be a leader, unlike Aohi, who just followed the crowd, Jungwon was born to lead it.

When he was picked as the best candidate for ENHYPEN's leader role, he was overjoyed, of course, but a part of him also wondered if he was ready for that role.

Jungwon worked to his limit to make sure ENHYPEN was where they were now. Aohi and Xiulin... he was stumped on what to do, they were suddenly thrust upon his plate when he already had so much.

Jungwon had no idea how to lead the girls, he didn't go through I-LAND with them, nor did they meet long enough to help them....

so, he didn't.

For about a few months, that went excruciatingly slow by the way, Jungwon barely made the effort to even glance Aohi's and Xiulin's way, well, more Aohi's because he respects Xiulin as his elder sister.

At first, it was smooth sailing for Jungwon, it wasn't that hard to ignore Aohi or avoid her, but as time passed on, Jungwon didn't realize her cold attitude would sting, like being out during a snowfall and it got too cold that your hands would freeze, kind of sting.

Jungwon didn't think the glare Aohi would sometimes direct at him would bother him so much. Like, made his stomach turn kind of bother.

For one, it made him feel like he was a bad person. (he doesn't think he is, is he?)

Secondly, he hated to admit that maybe, just maybe he did deserve it, and he wasn't really living up to the leader name.

Jungwon knows Aohi and Xiulin are his group members now, hell, they're making their first album with the girls now!

As a leader, he was supposed to help the girls, especially when he needed to navigate this whole co-ed situation as well, but he didn't, and knowing that left an incredibly sour taste on the boy's tongue.

That's what brought us to Jungwon now, sitting in an empty meeting room, after a weekly... report? Status? whatever it was, had happened. The boy stared straight ahead at the table, seemingly burning a theoretical hole into the furniture.

He sat unmoving for a while, getting lost in his thoughts, you could say he got it from Sunghoon's morning spacing out routine.

It was only until a can was placed in front of his line of sight did his gaze change from the table, to the girl he was exactly thinking about.

"You stare at that spot any longer, you might've actually burnt a hole into the table."

Jungwon didn't respond, glancing up at Aohi's brown orbs, before looking back down at the can on the table. "What's the drink for?" Jungwon nudged towards the drink, as if scared to touch it.

"To drink? What else?" Aohi stated, sitting opposite of Jungwon, in which Jay sat in before her, so Aohi cringed slightly as she felt the warm seat.

Aohi seemed to magically produce another can of warm tea— Jungwon had analyzed, in front of him, opening it with one hand.

"The drink was Xiulin-unnie's." She hums, blowing inside her can to take her first sip, tasting the tea and nodding her head, outwardly approving the flavour.

"Why didn't you give it to her then?" Jungwon hesitantly took the drink off of the table. "Couldn't find her." Aohi shrugged.

Jungwon made no move to open his drink, sitting up in his chair. "Why're you here?" He asks, moving the metal can from one hand to the other, temporarily using it as a handwarmer.

Jungwon didn't seem to like the fact that Aohi was so close without any reasons to be, he had no idea why he was so alert around her either, as if two cats meeting on a territory and intimidating each other.

"Why can't I be? I'm sitting with one of my members, I don't see anything wrong with that." Aohi's eyes narrowed like that of a cat as she willingly made eye contact.

As the two cat-like members stared on, Jungwon could feel that grumbling feeling in his stomach once again as he didn't back down from the intense eye contact Aohi established.

"I didn't say anything was wrong with it, I mean that you don't really like us—"

"I like Ri-ki, so I don't think that I don't like my group members." Aohi's shrugged once again, "You look at us like we're the worst people on earth." Jungwon scoffed, already disliking Aohi's response.

"I don't know why you have to look for a reason for me to be here, I'm being nice—" Aohi grumbled, placing her drink on the table since she was an easily irritable person, and this conversation— is it still even a conversation? could end up firing her up even more.

"With a stare like that?" Jungwon raised his eyebrows, he'd never seen someone who was being nice have a stare that could probably kill.

"Gosh, why do you have to start a fight with me all of the time?!" Aohi stood from her seat, pointing at Jungwon with an accusatory finger.

"Because you have so much against my hyungs and I! You don't even know us," Jungwon stood up from his seat as well, pushing Aohi's finger away with the back of his hand. "You just decided we're not even worth being nice to!"

"Neither do you! I wasn't the first to be rude, it was the hyungs who looked at me and Xiulin-unnie like we were of no hope!" Aohi argued, her words were true, how could the young girl forget?

Xiulin-unnie had to learn everything for herself and Aohi, because Aohi was finishing her studies and had to miss most of their practices.

Aohi was only angry because she cared for her unnie, and a few months in living like that, Xiulin was already extremely exhausted, and Aohi couldn't do much to help her.

Aohi was frustrated, she only wanted the boys to help, not just Ri-ki, all of the boys.

"Well—" "I'm not done!" Jungwon was silenced by Aohi, taken aback by her sudden outburst, even if he wanted to, what Aohi said was true, they truly didn't think they could debut, not so late into ENHYPEN's career at least.

Still, how could Jungwon admit that?

"Xiulin-unnie and I needed help, and we couldn't even confide in our hyungs, much less our leader." Jungwon's throat dried at Aohi's words, not knowing how to respond to that.

In all honesty, he felt like he was slapped with a hot iron pan of truth.

"Sure, Jake-hyung barely tried to help us with our dance practices, but not before pointing out every little wrong thing from us." Aohi poked her finger to Jungwon's chest, hating the way he was silent.

It wasn't like Aohi didn't know that Jungwon was the type to lead, from just meeting him, you could already feel it. That's what makes it worse.

The girls— Aohi, needed someone to follow, because that's all she knew to do, and she hoped that there was a small chance, Jungwon, as the leader, would knock some sense into his group members and allow her and her unnie to have someone to follow.

Apparently it was too much to ask for.

"We didn't even know each other, and we just decided to hate each other... months straight, we'd barely interact, even when we started to record the album.." Aohi frowned, seeing that she'd stunned Jungwon into silence.

Aohi wasn't sure whether to continue after that, only sighing and sitting back down, taking her cup of warm tea, trying to drink the tension away.

Jungwon stayed standing up, thinking. Jungwon knows he was cruel, but he thought he was doing right, he followed his hyungs along as well.

He could remember his Heeseung-hyung telling him that the girls will not gain anything by being in ENHYPEN, that they should let it be for their own good.

Jungwon should've asked what Aohi and Xiulin's thoughts were, if they could really do it, if they were really willing. Maybe then, he could've helped them, give them a place in the group, rather than giving up on them from the start.

"...I'm sorry." Jungwon hesitated, sitting next to Aohi, rubbing the palms of his hands nervously.

"You're only apologizing because I told you—"

"You're right, but I really am sorry, I mean that from the bottom of my heart." Jungwon interrupted her, Aohi turns to Jungwon, looking at him with a skeptical look.

"I was stressed, and I know that it's not an excuse, because you and Xiulin-noona were also under a lot of pressure," Aohi didn't bother to try and intervene with Jungwon's ramblings, he seemed to have a lot to say.

"But let me try and make it up to you, and Xiulin-noona."

Aohi stayed silent for a few moments, thinking, if Jungwon was genuine, and he was serious about treating her and Xiulin like actual members, maybe...

"It's been months, Jungwon.." Aohi replied curtly, turning to the side, as if hesitant to even agree. "Then I'll make up for it for as long as you girls want."

"You—" Aohi tried to start, Jungwon shaking his head at her reply, "I will, as long as you don't look at me like that again. I'll change."

And change, Jungwon did.

Aohi was taken aback the first time he did something for her, it was an interview, their first interview as a debuted co-ed group.

Aohi sat in one of the dressing rooms, spacing out on a make-up chair as the girls' own stylist worked her magic onto Aohi's newly dyed hair.

Xiulin and Aohi were successfully debuted into the group, despite the boys' hesitance, except Ri-ki and Jungwon, who happily congratulated the two girls.

Aohi remembers how much they had to handle on the first few days, the incorporation of Dark Moon, the making of their first co-ed album, it was a mess, and not to mention they barely had any breaks.

"Aohi-ssi, your make-up is done." Her stylist spoke, ushering her behind to start working on Xiulin next. Aohi stretched her arms in front of her as she sat on the couches, next to Ri-ki.

Ri-ki instantly turned to her, phone in hand to show whatever he was currently laughing at.

While the two teens giggled over whatever was on Ri-ki's screen, Jungwon approached the couch with drinks in hand, just like Aohi did, and for some reason, the leader of ENHYPEN disliked that their youngest was shoulder to shoulder with Aohi.

Without thinking any further, Jungwon pushed the two apart, Aohi looking startled at the sudden intrusion. Aohi looked up, seeing Jungwon looking down at her.

"I got you a drink, you have to stay hydrated." Jungwon took Aohi's hand and placed the cold drink, using his palm to curl her fingers over it.

Aohi's eyebrows just furrowed, glancing at Xiulin, who only stared from the mirror of the stylist chair in shock.

"Thanks, I guess.." Aohi mumbled, placing the drink on the table in front of the couch. Ri-ki didn't seem to notice, or suspect anything as he just returned to bumping shoulders with Aohi and looking at random videos.

Jungwon seemed to bite the inside of his cheek at the unsuccessful attempt at separating the two, wait— why was he even annoyed that they were so close to each other?

"Noona, are you going to drink that?" Ri-ki points to the drink Aohi had recently placed on the table.

"Why, are you thirsty, ki-yah?" Aohi hummed, grabbing the can, wiping the top and popping it open for the youngest to drink.

Jungwon stood behind them, a bit offended as he watched Aohi place the can to Ri-ki's lips, like a big 'screw you!' from Aohi to Jungwon as she gave Ri-ki the first sip of the drink he decided to kindly get for her.

"Good?" Aohi asks Ri-ki, grinning when he nods. "That's really good grape juice." He nods, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"here, you can have it."

Jungwon could hear his heart crack as he heard that from Aohi's lips, and Aohi heard clearly.

'You aren't gaining my forgiveness that easily..' She thinks, glancing at Jungwon, a slight mischievous smile on her face.

Since then, Jungwon had been... overbearingly kind to Aohi and Xiulin, as in... even sneaking in ordered food for them late at night. Jungwon was really determined to gain Aohi's forgiveness.

Jungwon had already earned Xiulin's respect, it's just Aohi being stubborn.

"Here..." Jungwon huffed, having ran a few floors down and back up to deliver the ordered food to the girls' dorms.

Aohi could only blurt out a small thanks before closing the door in front of their leader's face, stopping him from even saying anything.

Jungwon sat in front of their door for a bit, catching his breath, letting out a sigh before turning around, despite hearing muffled voices behind the door.

"Aohi! That was rude! You know he's still a member, he's stuck with us!" Xiulin whisper-yelled from beside her, opening the door as soon as it was closed. "Sorry, won, she's just hangry, have some with us." The older girl ushered, pulling a turned Jungwon inside.

"Unnie!" Aohi gasped, somewhat stomping her foot from the door and staring up at Jungwon with a frown. "Don't be like that, we ordered enough for an extra person." Xiulin scolded.

"I could've called Ri-ki..." Aohi grumbled, turning around and stomping into the kitchen. "You're not calling the youngest down for some fried chicken, Aohi." Xiulin retorted.

Jungwon stood by the entrance awkwardly, he was the first of the boys to even be in the girls' dorms. "Don't just stand there, go!" Aohi pointed to the living room, chopsticks and plates in her other hand.

Jungwon hesitantly approached the room, looking around curiously at the new environment, before sitting next to Xiulin, on their couch.

"I'm hungry, hurry up!" Xiulin whined from the living room, the TV still turned on, they seemed to be watching a random k-drama, obviously bored but not tired.

"Eung!" Aohi replied, sitting by the table in the middle of their living room as they started to open the food they ordered. Jungwon sat back with his hands on his lap, a bit nervous.

"Loosen up, won." Xiulin looked from behind her, Aohi placing a plate and chopsticks for Jungwon to use. The two girls were silent as they placed the food out.

"Looks so good... I'm literally about to devour everything." Xiulin let out a 'psh!' sound, bumping Aohi's leg with her own and gaining a protest from Aohi.

"I will enjoy this food.." The three recited, Jungwon slowly sliding into the middle of the two girls as they started to eat.

The trio ate silently, an occasional groan or dislike for any event that went on in their k-drama. "She's so fake for going back to her ex.." Aohi spoke, looking at the TV with a furrowed brow.

"Right? Like, if you're going to go back, don't do it in front of the boy who's liked you for forever.." Xiulin scoffed, taking a sip of her cider. Jungwon silently chewed from between them, just listening in.

Jungwon stared down at his plate, swallowing, 'ah... I need some pickled radish..' Jungwon looked for the container around the table, seeing it but... it was being guarded by Aohi.

Jungwon didn't want to ask Aohi, just watching the girl place another cube into her mouth. Xiulin glanced from beside her, seeing Jungwon eye the container.

"Yah, Jungwon wants some, don't finish it all." Xiulin spoke, nudging her head towards Aohi's direction.

Jungwon felt alarmed at the sudden call-out Xiulin made, jumping in his spot, "Ah— no, it's okay!—" Jungwon used his free hand to make a no motion.

Aohi stared at Jungwon, chopsticks in her mouth, before staring back to the TV. The younger boy felt a little awkward as the noise died down between both Aohi and Xiulin.

Aohi then stared down at the container of radishes, there was only five cubes left.. and she really liked the radishes, she glances at Jungwon, who seemed to have a bit of trouble eating the last of his bites, using cider to down it.

Jungwon grabbed the last bite of the boneless bites he was eating, getting ready to chew his way to a finished plate, unknowing to Aohi's gaze at his struggling figure.

In a small moment, Aohi made the decision to pick a cube up from the container with her chopsticks, before turning to Jungwon.. "Eung.." Aohi was feeding him a cube of radish.

Jungwon stopped mid-chew to stare at her like a deer in headlights, Xiulin was too busy being immersed in her digital show to even bother seeing the live-version play out right beside her.

'Did.. did she want to feed me?' Jungwon thought, looking at the radish before looking back up.

Aohi waited with a blank look on her face as Jungwon swallowed his bite, hesitantly coming forward as he used his teeth to bite the radish, so that his lips wouldn't touch her chopsticks.

Jungwon could feel the back of his neck warm slightly, trying to finish his food.

Ever since then, it was even more awkward between Aohi and Jungwon, the leader starting to practically follow the girl around like a cat does to his owner.

Aohi guessed he wasn't that bad, more so tolerable. Aohi didn't mind Jungwon that much, just thought it was a little tiring having to be followed around.

It's been almost eight months since Jungwon promised to change, and Aohi and Jungwon seemed to be... friends? Acquaintances? All the leader knew was that Aohi didn't avoid him anymore.

Aohi was secretly appreciative of Jungwon, he had helped plenty with her and Xiulin with coordinating their first album together, MANIFESTO.

Aohi and Xiulin learnt their roles in the dance pretty quickly, thanks to Ri-ki and Jungwon. Aohi started to find her confidence in being in the group, trying to find her dynamic, trying to fit in.

Aohi thought she was ready, actually. That she was perfectly in the spot she was. That was, until their first performance of their songs.

"Get her and Sunoo off-stage, quickly! Check on her, see if she broke or injured anything!" The staff ran around frantically behind stage, trying to close the lights to cover up the incident on-stage.

It was their first performance of their song, ParadoXXX Invasion, Aohi thought she was going to nail this first performance, she really did.

Aohi lost her footing half-way into the song, tripping onto Sunoo as the two came tumbling down. The lights dimmed as their fans gasped, murmuring at the sudden absence of lights on-stage.

Sunoo held Aohi stable as he winced, feeling a sting from his lower back from where he fell.

Aohi looked at Sunoo with teary eyes, shaking her head as a worried expression washed over her features.

"Sunoo-hyung... I'm so sorry.. I'm sorry- i didn't mean—" Aoihi whispered, wrapping her palm around her mic, just in case it was still on. Aohi didn't want the crowd hearing her lose her composure.

The whole group was ushered off-stage as Aohi couldn't even hold back her tears as she suddenly burst out in worry, and honestly, in fear.

The staff members had no idea how to comfort the overwhelmed girl. Aohi felt vulnerable at this moment, she felt more like Yoon Aohi, the seventeen-year-old girl who was a little too sensitive for her own good.

Xiulin could only usher her away from the eyes of the other members, letting out soft mantras of reassurance as they walked away. Ri-ki and Jungwon looked on in worry, being by Sunoo's side as the medic on seen checked on him.

"Go check if she's okay, I'm okay—" Sunoo grabbed Jungwon's arm, looking at him with a strained smile, knowing Jungwon's conflicted thoughts behind his eyes, of staying with his hyung, or going after Aohi.

Jungwon glanced up one more time from Sunoo to a fading Aohi, through the crowds, the boy could see glimpses of Aohi's face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

In that moment, Jungwon didn't hesitate to follow after her, swerving through different staffs as his hyungs called for him.

"I'll just leave you here, okay? I'll be right back... just stay here.." Xiulin softly spoke, rubbing Aohi's shoulder for a bit, leaving to go talk with staff.

Jungwon tailed after the girls, approaching the dressing room that Xiulin left. Jungwon stood in front of the door for a bit, hesitating to knock before he did.

Thankfully, he did manage to do it, cracking the door open soon after, entering with as little noise as possible.

Aohi looked up from her make-up stained hands, up at Jungwon. Aohi sniffled as she wondered why Jungwon was there.

Jungwon could feel his heart tighten at Aohi's tear-stained face. Her expression seemed to hurt even worse than all of those glares she shot his way in the past.

Jungwon never wants to see her cry like this again, he wouldn't be able to take it if he did.

"Aohi..." Jungwon calls out softly, approaching the couch as he attempted to sit down, placing a gentle hand on her arm.

Aohi quickly pulled her hand away before Jungwon could even wrap a finger, "Wag mo ako hawakan!— please!" (Don't try to hold me, please.)

Aohi sniffled as she scooted to the side of the couch, making space between her and Jungwon. he didn't know what she was asking of him, not understanding what she said.

Instead, Jungwon sat on the other side of the couch, hoping she just wanted space. Jungwon could feel his stomach spin in worry for Aohi, the last few months, spending time with her made it that way.

Despite Aohi's firm obstacles in the start, trying to push him away, they ended up becoming somewhat close.

"Why're you even here?.." Aohi sobbed.

"I wanted to know if you're okay.." Jungwon frowned, looking at Aohi, itching to bring her into his arms, itching to comfort her.

"Since when did you care?" Aohi spat, she seemed defensive, thoughts racing in her head, she wondered, if Jungwon as the leader, would scold her for being so careless.

Aohi was stressed enough as it was. Jungwon could see that.

"I've always cared, Aohi.. ever since then..." Jungwon whispered, inching closer, freezing when Aohi flinched at his sudden movement.

"Please don't push me away," Jungwon begged. "I'm not here to berate you, or scold you—"

"I don't need your pity!" Aohi cried, a sob following her words. Jungwon held grabbed Aohi's hand as she tried to stand.

"I'm not pitying you, Aohi! I genuinely care for you!" Jungwon begeed once more, keeping Aohi in place, her movements frantic.

Aohi had to admit, Jungwon was pretty strong and she had to scold herself for thinking such things in a situation like this. Aohi tried to pull her hands away from Jungwon when she was pulled into his chest.

Aohi gasped, struggling in his hold as Jungwon held her in place, whispering 'you're okay's and 'relax' in Aohi's ears as she sobbed even more, only grabbing onto his sweatshirt as she cried her teenage heart out into Jungwon's clothes.

"You made a mistake, and that's okay.. it happens.." Jungwon softly comforted the girl in his arms, his hand reaching up to pat the girl's head.

"I just ruined the performance.. I tripped Sunoo-hyung.. I hurt him—" Aohi sobbed out, Jungwon shaking his head with a soft laugh. "Aish... Aohi, you're thinking too much, Sunoo-hyung won't hate you for that."

"It's not just that!" Aohi cried out, Jungwon leans back from his hug, looking down at Aohi, who seemed to stare up at him, her eyes puffy and nose red, Jungwon was convinced he could've been looking at a scared bunny.

"Then what is it? Hm?"

Aohi sniffled for a bit, moving away from her embrace with Jungwon, "I hyped myself up so much for this album... I was so confident, Jungwon," She whimpered, using her arm to wipe her eyes.

"I thought I would be able to do the performance flawlessly. I just embarrassed us, maybe I'm really not meant to be in enhypen, won.."

Jungwon stays quiet at her words, Jungwon is reminded of their starting months, he wonders if he and his hyungs made that mindset for Aohi. Jungwon wonders if he did, he really thought he was cruel.

"Don't say that, you didn't do anything," Jungwon wanted to change those thoughts in the poor girl's head, it was the least he could do.

"You're a hard-working person, Aohi, and you made a mistake but don't think for one second that you don't belong with us because of it."

"...You mean it, won?" Aohi whispered, looking up at the taller boy. Jungwon looked down at her once again, he felt a bit stunned at how Aohi was fine with showing this vulnerable side to her, especially when he's always been avoided by her.

"With everything I have." Jungwon replied, just as soft.

The two continued to keep eye contact with each other, getting lost in each other's gazes. It was quiet in the dressing room, except for the rustling of Jungwon's hand rubbing at Aohi's palm and his rings clinking with hers.

Neither Jungwon or Aohi made an effort to move away from each other, they didn't even bother to notice that, instead of moving away from each other, they inched closer and closer.

"Won?" Aohi whispered, her eyes fluttering softly.

"..Eung?" Jungwon asked, Aohi could feel his breath on her cheek, that's how close they were.

Aohi glanced down at his lips, Jungwon following her actions, dreading for the moment they would touch.

Another minute passes, an inch following.

It was quiet, too quiet.

In a span of a second, Aohi could feel Jungwon close the gap in between them, a soft gasp leaving her lips. His lips were soft, oh so soft.

Jungwon's eyes had fluttered close, he didn't know why he ended up closing the gap, hell, he didn't even register that he was kissing Aohi!

Aohi could've melted from just how soft Jungwon's lips were on hers, it was perfect, so perfect. Aohi wanted it to last forever, the feeling of their lips moving in sync was perfect, like a dream.

but as quickly as a dream ends, it did, Xiulin being the main culprit as she busts into the room.

Aohi and Jungwon jumped away from each other, Aohi fixing her appearance and Jungwon covering the lower half of his face.

"Noona! Are you okay?" RI-ki voiced, his worried figure approaching Aohi as she tried to compose herself.

"Yeah- Yeah, I'm..." Aohi glances at Jungwon, who's forced himself not to even think to turn to look at her. "I'm.. alright.." Aohi finishes her sentence, her voice lowering softly.

"We should get you out of here, the staff gave us the green light.." Xiulin spoke curtly, staring at Jungwon as she rubbed Aohi's shoulder.

Before Aohi could even get a word in, Ri-ki was already ushering her up, softly telling her to move. Xiulin taking over when she reaches the door.

"But, won—" Aohi tried to call for the other member, Ri-ki only blocking her sight. "Go, noona." The youngest pleaded, wanting Aohi to rest.

Aohi didn't say anything further as Xiulin pulled her outside, reaching the car with their stuff in tow, letting the younger girl enter the car first.

"Unnie-" Aohi tried to speak her mind before Xiulin could even scold her, but she was instantly silenced by the way her elder sister just sent a glance her way.

"Aohi, what were you thinking?" Xiulin spoke from her seat, leaning back into her seat.

"Unnie.. it was a mistake, I really didn't mean to trip—" Xiulin made a 'nuh uh' sound, shaking her head as she raised her hand up to stop Aohi from speaking even more.

"Not. That." Xiulin turns to her dongsaeng, a slightly annoyed look on here face. "I mean that... the— you know!" Xiulin motions to her hand, making kissing motions by touching the tips of her fingers together.

Aohi watches the action with her lips ajar, she opened her mouth to try and make a reason, an excuse, on why she did it, why she... kissed Jungwon.

Since nothing came out, she only sighed, looking off to the window, as if deep in thought. There was barely any sunlight left, the night coming to replace the sun.

"I don't know.. Unnie, believe me, I was upset and—" Xiulin clicked her tongue. "I thought you disliked our members? That's all you could ever talk about, remember?"

"I know but-" Aohi sighed, looking down at her fingers, fiddling with the rings. "Jungwon- He's different—" Xiulin suddenly puts her hands up in the air, it's like she's finally noticing the plot of a k-drama.

"Different? Because he was nice? You and I have known him for a few months, batsy!" Xiulin argued. Aohi flinches at her aggressive tone, feeling like a kicked cat on the curb.

"It's the way he's changing! Believe me, I tried to push him away, but he was persistent, and I started to change—" Xiulin huffed in her seat, she truly wonders what was going through Aohi's head.

Xiulin thought of the future of ENHYPEN as quickly as she saw the scene of Aohi and Jungwon. It would cause such an outrage, especially between newly-debuted members and how it would conspire so many rumours.

Xiulin's heart was in the right place, worrying about their careers, but she has to understand that Aohi didn't mean for the kiss to happen.

"Unnie.. you said it yourself, we're stuck with them! Is it so bad to try and change? To want to be on better terms with them?" Aohi reasoned, pleading her older member to understand.

"You call that better terms, Aohi?" Xiulin frustratingly replied. The two girls seemed to struggle with finding a middle ground. "Kissing Jungwon is worse than having something against him."

"I like him, unnie!" — "Is you liking Jungwon worth more than our careers?!"

Aohi stays silent at this, for once her stubbornness flickers out like a flame.

She thinks about the whole situation from Xiulin's eyes. She and her unnie worked to debut after being picked out of their respective groups and now that they are debuting, Aohi could ruin it.

Hell, she should be lucky it was Xiulin and.. maybe Ri-ki? who saw the kiss.. Oh gosh, what about Ri-ki? What will he do?

"I'm sorry, unnie... I didn't know what I was thinking..." Aohi whispered, deciding to back down and agree to Xiulin. Her unnie turns to her, seeing the young girl deflate into her chair with a soft sniffle.

Aohi was obviously upset, feeling dejected. Xiulin could only sigh, "You should stay away from Jungwon off-camera.. You and won will only hurt yourselves if feelings start to form..." Xiulin reaches over to rub her arm on the girl's shoulder, in attempt to comfort her.

Aohi only nods, their conversation ending as their separate manager enters the car, ready to drive them home.

MUSIC BANK DRESSING ROOM, 8:56 PM—

"Hyung." A voice calls out for him. Jungwon could only squeeze his eyes shut for a few moments. "Look, just- don't tell the others.." He let out a sigh through his nose, looking up at Ri-ki, who seemed visibly upset.

"I don't care about that, you shouldn't of done that to her." The youngest spoke. Jungwon was taken aback at the sudden hostility coming from Ri-ki.

"Ri-ki, what are you talking about?" Jungwon's eyebrows furrowed, looking appalled at the youngest's behaviour.

Ri-ki clenches his fists, biting the inside of his cheek. "You shouldn't of kissed her."

Jungwon wonders why he'd bring this up, he already knew? What does Ri-ki gain from telling him again?

"You don't think I know that? I'm saying not to mention it to the other hyungs, I'll—" Jungwon spoke, trying to pass the conversation as quickly as possible, the leader didn't want to speak about it, his mind jumbled from the big events of today.

"You're going to hurt Aohi-noona, you know that?" Ri-ki replies, and at this point, Jungwon wonders why he cares so much. Sure, their youngest and Aohi has been closest, but to be so defensive about her?

"Ri-ki, drop it please." Jungwon pleaded, Ri-ki flicking his head to the side, as if ticked off. "she doesn't deserve that, you—" Jungwon stopped Ri-ki from saying even more words, words that could hurt both of them.

"I care about Aohi as much as you do, Ri-ki!" Jungwon argued, Ri-ki biting back just as fierce. "I don't just care, Jungwon-hyung!" He yells, and Jungwon is quiet for a few moments, wondering what he meant.

"You're blowing this out of proportion, ki. You know we're just friends." And at this, Ri-ki scoffs. He felt like a little kid being hid away from things he obviously understood.

"Don't bullshit me, please, hyung." Jungwon clenches his jaw, he could feel the tension rise between them.

It was a familiar feeling, one that started to become obvious as months passed, the more both spent time with Aohi.

"You don't think I notice? The way you look at Noona like she showed you the wonders of the world," Ri-ki steps towards Jungwon, and the older boy takes a step back.

"You used to hate her, and now you kiss her like the past just didn't happen?"

"That was months ago! Aohi and I are on better terms!" Jungwon takes this as an opportunity to stand his ground with Ri-ki, he has never seen their youngest be so rebellious, or hell, angry with them.

"Still! I won't let you play with her feelings like that!"

Jungwon is angered at this, Ri-ki doesn't get to put that claim on him, not when he spent months caring for Aohi, not when he's made a habit to glance at Aohi to make sure she's okay, or always asking her if she needs any help.

Not when Jungwon spent so much time caring, not when he started to form feelings, when he started to love her.

"I'm not playing with anyone's feelings, Ri-ki!" Jungwon finally yells, like a cat defending his territory, feeling offended and intimidated.

"You don't get to accuse me of that! Aohi is just as important to me! I get my actions but I won't do it again! So, drop it!"

"No! I'm not dropping it!" Ri-ki keened.

"God, Ri-ki! Why do you care so much?!" Jungwon groaned, "I said I wouldn't do it again, what more could you want?—"

"It's because I have feelings for her!" Ri-ki reveals, his hand instantly reaching up to slap over his lips. It was so shocking that even Jungwon's eyes widened slowly at his words, not expecting to hear that fall from Ri-ki's lips.

Even Ri-ki's surprised that those words came out of his own mouth.

"I.. I like her."

The two stare at each other for a while, before Ri-ki couldn't handle his hyung's gaze, dashing out with a heavy heart, and a twisting stomach.

Jungwon seemed to grab at a table behind his back, feeling his knees weaken. His hands reached up to wipe the sweat on his face, the temperature of the room seemed to change as the fighting between the two got worse.

Jungwon repeated Ri-ki's works in his head over and over, as if it was a mantra. Ri-ki liked her, he had feelings for her.

God, what will he do?

#˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑰𝑺 𝑨𝑶𝑯𝑰!#enhypen #enhypen 8th member #enhypen added member #enhypen addition #enhypen au #enhypen eighth member #enhypen female oc #enhypen ot7 #enha x oc #poly enhypen x oc #enhypen x oc #enhypen fic #enhypen female addition #enhypen female member #enhypen extra member

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