#and showed them that image. just of the hands. where one is metal and the other is just skin wearing a gay little glove

[itz-pammy-1996]

My ailen-ized Jonny design is finally here!

Thank you @gizm0-gadgetz for the ring hc! As I said, the stories/descriptions for each ring will be added below! I know this probably isn't the best design I could've made, but I still had a lot of fun making it so in the end that doesn't really matter:3

TS's ring

The ring TS made for Jonny is a beautiful handcrafted ring made of dark carefully polished wood, thin steel wire, and small rubies edged into the cracks to bring it all together. Nobody knows where it gat the tools to make it, and when later asked how it had made the ring is showed no interest or skillset in the art of jewelry making.

Ashes' ring

The ring Ashes commissioned for Jonny is made entirely from the most precious metal of a planet they had long since burned down together. It's plain from the outside, but the inside depicts carved images of playing cards, alcohol, and shot glasses.

Tim's ring

The "ring" that Tim had given Jonny shortly after becoming immortal is actually just barbed wire wrapped onto itself and bound together to make a ring like shape. Jonny shot him for it, but he still wore it. Besides, Tim made it too loose, so it's not like it it hurt too much. Tim has since given him an actual ring (a thin gold clamp bracelet, simple in design and not particularly expensive, still pretty though), though Jonny still keeps the old one in his room

:readmore:

Raph's ring

Was originally an experiment to see what Jonny would do with a more delicate piece of jewelry. It was a nice bead necklace, pinkish white with a ruby centerpiece.

She expected him to give it back saying it'll just break, to destroy it immediately, or to hide it somewhere in his room never to be seen again- what she did not expect, was for him to wear it along with the others, protect it from damage in battle, and to dispare when it finally started losing beads.

Brian's ring

Brian didn't have much materials going in, only the ones he uses for his own repairs. His ring is made out of fine wire and a scrap of metal positioned to hold it all together. He's still kinda disappointed with it, but it's hard to work with daunty big metal hands.

Marius's ring

Marius had absolutely no idea what to get Jonny, but he still wanted to partake in "decorating the cat" (in his own words) so he just tried his best to find something expensive and shiny! He ended up with a chunky silver bracelet that depicts inky black tentacles holding up the emeralds imbedded into it.

Nastya's ring

Was once the cuff of an old jacket she had, when the jacket itself fell apart, the took the cuffs and fashioned them into matching bracelets for her and Jonny. It's millions of years old now, tattered and moreso the strings holding it together than the bracelet itself, but he still wears it on top of all the others.

Ivy's ring

Once when they were planetside, she went into a ruined jewelry shop and calculated which one Jonny would like the most. She ended up with a simple gold chain bracelet with a smaller offshoot chain to attach charms on. She picked out a tiny book charm to represent herself, and a feather pen to represent his overdramatic monologues that he enjoys writing so much.

[loverworm]

the gloves stay ON during sex‼️

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Chapter 1.1: Unfamiliar.

Previously // Next - (chapter list)

Gavriel Huffman’s consciousness drifted back in pieces, slowly. The first sensation he registered was the pain. A throbbing, burning ache in his side that shot throughout his body with each ragged breath he took. His hand twitched reflexively, wanting to clutch at the wound, but his limbs felt heavy, sluggish.

He groaned, eyelids fluttering open before having to close them as his blurry vision was assaulted by the bright sunlight peaking through the cracks of the window blinds. Gavriel winced, turning his head slightly to escape the light. The movement sent another jolt of pain lancing through his body making him grit his teeth. The pain, though familiar, was sharper now, less numbed by adrenaline.

His instincts screamed at him to assess his surroundings, and with great effort, he forced his unsteady vision to focus. What he saw made him slightly more awake with disoriented alarm.

The room was cozy. Unbearably so. The walls had warm tones of colors that made the room feel welcoming. The bed he laid on was draped in a checkered quilt with a few stitches here and there. It wasn't as feathery soft or as luxurious as the one he had back in his place, but the worn down cheap quality of it only made them feel more homely in comparison. The air was filled with a subtle, comforting scent, and the one Gavriel noticed immediately was the smell of baked goods.

It was the kind of room he had only ever seen through windows in neighborhoods he didn’t belong in.

Gavriel’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening. He didn’t belong here. The dissonance between his bleak, gritty world and this gentle, almost absurd comfort was jarring. It made his head spin, not just from the pain.

He hadn't been thinking very clearly then, but he could vaguely recall memories of the rain and the blood soaking into his clothes and him collapsing into unconsciousness, but everything after that was a blur. How had he ended up here?

Where the hell was he? His hand felt heavy as he reached up to touch the wound in his side, and he was surprised to find it wrapped in bandages. The dressing was hastily done.

He pushed the blanket aside, revealing his current state. His torso was bare, the bandages wrapped tight around his injury, and he was wearing pants that definitely weren’t his. The worn, clean fabric was more snug than anything he’d ever put on.

He frowns at this. Gavriel didn’t trust kindness. It's a luxury reserved for people who hadn’t been forced to scrape and claw their way through life.

With a grunt, he forced himself upright, teeth gritting as another wave of pain rippled throughout his body. He braced himself on the nightstand, the wooden surface creaking under his grip, and scanned the room for any signs of danger.

His eyes landed on a small framed photo on the nightstand. It showed a cheerful looking man with a wide goofy smile and a thumbs-up, standing next to… what he assumes to be his family, accompanied with a clean and comfortable-looking set of clothing sitting there waiting for him to wear alongside his glasses.

He reached out for it, seating the frame on his nose bridge and ears. Gavriel turned to squint at the image, something tugging in his head as he tried to place the face of that male toon. Then his mind flashed to the moment before he went unconscious. Someone had crouched down beside him when he was dying in that alleyway.

But why? The idea that someone had helped him, patched up a criminal covered in blood, was almost laughable. People didn’t do that for him- for them. At least, not in the place where he belongs.

Currently though, that wasn't his main concern. His dark eyes narrowed. Where the hell was his gun?

His fingers instinctively moved to his waist, but the comfort of the cold metal wasn't there. Gavriel sighed as a familiar wave of dullness washed over him, pulling him in a state of rumination. He was still hurt, still vulnerable, and that meant he was in danger, no matter how deceptively safe this place looked. He clenched his fists, not even giving a wince at the painful ache in his body.

All of this made him feel rather numb and confused, but it doesn't show on his face which he'd trained to never waver even in danger.

The dull ache of his wounds, the confusion of being in this unsettlingly mellow room, and the disorientation of having just woken up alive when he very well should've been dead in an alleyway somewhere. It all pressed down on him heavily. His mind felt like it was wrapped in fog, every thought coming in with a painful throb. He tried to think, to piece together why he hadn’t bled out in that alley.

He knew that his injuries had been severe enough to be fatal, the kind of wounds that left little hope for survival. A few hasty bandages and dressings wouldn’t have done much to stop the life bleeding out of his dying body.

Yet here he was, hurting but very much still alive. He rubbed his forehead, the motion sluggish from pain as he racked his brain for an answer. It wasn’t until he sat there for a hot minute that realization struck.

Oh, right. He was in a city reigned by the Toon genre.

It was common knowledge to all that the Toons leaned heavily on the whimsical side, or more specifically, it was the environment itself that exuded this sort of vitality. One that let its residents survive otherwise fatal mishaps with only a moment’s comedic daze and maybe a few tweeting birds circling their heads.

He couldn’t be bothered to recite the specifics of it. Something about places in the Toon genre having stronger healing properties or some nonsense like that. But now, in this moment, the absurdity wasn’t so easy to dismiss as it had been the very thing that had led to him surviving his death, a miracle in of itself.

Gavriel’s hand reached up to softly graze the large scar on the side of his neck, healed yet still deep and harrowing, which told stories of a much darker time. Touching it had been a habit he'd developed a long time ago in times of stress or simply whenever he contemplated.

He had no patience for the whimsical workings of this place, no desire to analyze the wonders or whatever it was that had saved him. The only thing that mattered to him was that it had and he's alive because of it.

It didn’t change his wariness though. If anything, it only made him more resolute to understand who had brought him here and why.

Then Gavriel hears the door click open.

---------------

Jack Desmond stepped into the bedroom, carefully balancing a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a bowl of warm porridge in the other. He didn't have anything special in his kitchen at the moment so he was only able to put together a simple meal, figuring that even the scariest man in the world deserved something warm and filling in his stomach to help him heal. That was, if the food hadn't already gone cold by the time he awoke.

Jack wore his usual friendly smile, ready to show the stranger some hospitality when he froze in confusion the moment he saw that the bed was empty.

“Huh?” Jack murmured, his brow furrowing. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of where the man might have gone, but there was nothing.

"Hugh!"

Coffee and porridge spilled to the ground as the cup and plate he'd been holding came crashing down on the ground, splattering everywhere.

Rough hands closed around his neck from behind. The force of the grip was firm, not quite strangling but strong enough to hold Jack in place.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down his temples, his hair standing on its end. It felt like his heart was caught in his throat, he didn't even dare breathe too hard.

The presence behind him was suffocating, a dense aura of danger which didn't fit with the comfort of the room they were in.

The hand holding him didn’t need a weapon.

It didn't take much for Jack to instinctively realize that he was currently bordering the line of life and death, a primal understanding that this man could end him effortlessly if he choses to.

Jack’s throat bobbed as he tried to swallow but can't, his mouth dry as a desert. It was as if time had slowed down. He could feel his heart thundering inside, each beat thudding louder and louder in his ears as he stood there, unable to do anything but wait.

The silence was deafening. Jack's mind told him to yell, scream loudly for help, but he couldn’t even force out a sound.

Jack felt his breath hitch as the man’s deep, rumbling voice cut through the suffocating silence. The voice was hoarse from fatigue and pain, but it still carried a commanding weight to it as he spoke.

"Who are you?" the voice demanded, each word slow and deliberate, laced with a barely restrained irritation. "Where am I and why am I here?"

Despite the fear pressing down on him, Jack’s mind raced, and something other than terror roused his senses. He sniffs subconsciously, his nose picking up a change in the air. That sharp, metallic tang that made his stomach twist.

"I-I’ll tell you everything you want to know," he stammered. "But please, d-don’t move too much." He could smell it. The fresh, unmistakable scent of blood. "You're hurt, s-sir…"

With those words, the room fell into silence again. The man behind him didn't say anything, as if contemplating Jack’s words, yet the grip around Jack’s neck remained firm. Each second seemed to stretch into eternity, and Jack held his breath, waiting for a response as a cold bead of sweat rolls down his face.

Finally, after what felt like a forever, the grip released. Jack released his breath, silently gasping for air as his feet planted into the ground, trying to steady his balance after that terrifying experience. Slowly, he turns around, stumbling away slightly as he looks up to face the much larger man.

Gavriel stood there, towering over him with one hand clutching his wounded side, blood seeping through the bandages and staining his skin anew. With a shadow cast over his face, his sharp glare intensified.

His dark eyes narrowed, scarred face twisted into a pained look of irritation. Even when injured, such a sight would be enough to intimidate anyone with the sheer menace he radiated.

But as Jack’s heart raced in his chest, his gaze drifted almost unconsciously to Gavriel’s wound. The fear was still there, pressing down on Jack’s chest, but something else was too.

Concern.

The sight of the reopened wound stirred something deeply instinctive and kind in Jack, something that momentarily outweighed his terror. He couldn’t help it. Despite the terrifying glare, despite understanding that this man could kill him if he wanted to, Jack’s eyes lingered more on his injury rather than his scary appearance.

“You’re bleeding again,” Jack whispered, his voice small but genuine, before he presses his lips, meekly looking up to meet the man's eyes. The words had slipped out before he could stop them, his worry winning over self-preservation for just a second.

Gavriel’s glare remained unwavering, burning with a mix of suspicion and impatience. “Answer my questions,” he ordered.

Jack nodded quickly in agreement, returning his focus on the wound, which now had blood dripping from Gavriel’s side, pooling on the floor in droplets.

Jack frowns, a wave of empathy coursing through him, and he took a small step forward without thinking, wanting to help.

Gavriel reacted instantly, his expression souring like a cornered animal. His lips pulled back into a nasty snarl, and Jack immediately froze, eyes darting back to the man's face, his look carrying a clear message.

Don’t come any closer.

Jack was hesitant, but he took a shaky breath and showed Gavriel his palm, trying to show him that he meant no harm. “I just… I just want to help.” His eyes showed nothing but genuine concern, a warmth that was out of place in the tension.

For a moment, Gavriel didn’t move. His gaze bore into Jack with an intensity that made the toon feel exposed but Jack holds his ground, knowing that the man in front of him was in pain and had only been acting out of self preservation.

Jack cautiously inched closer, his hands still raised, palm facing upwards to try and ease the man that he wouldn't do anything bad to him. The closer he got, the more he could see the strain in Gavriel’s features. It was a silent battle between the pain and the effort to appear unwavering.

Finally, he reached the man’s side. Gavriel's eyes followed, but he didn’t stop him as Jack extended his palm towards him. Jack's hand flinches and hesitates for a second when Gavriel's grip on his wound tightened… Jack steels himself and gently touched the lower side of the man's hip, his fingers being stained with the blood that ran steadily down it.

Despite not being injured himself, Jack still winced sympathetically at the sight. Though Gavriel’s face showed no change, Jack didn’t miss the way the muscle around the injury flinched at his touch.

“Okay… okay.” Jack murmured, his voice soft but determined. His mind buzzed with worry, already trying to think of what he could do to keep the wound from worsening.

With a pang of dread, it finally dawned on him in fullness that this was only the beginning of him having to temporarily keep this dangerous man in his apartment.

Oh, boy. This was going to be a long week.

_

Previously // Next - (chapter list)

[heehoonies]

under the table

description: you and sim jaeyun have been academic rivals for as long as you can remember, competing intensely to beat the other in every class you've ever shared. for years, you've hidden your feelings for him, burying them deep down where jake can't find them, and you're hellbent on ensuring he never discovers your secret.

word count: 22k

contents: academic rivals to academic rivals with benefits to lovers, lots of angst, slight crack at points, overuse of nicknames (angel, pretty, gorgeous, etc), jake is kinda mean in the beginning, heejayhoon are flirty frat boy menaces, reader works herself to exhaustion in one scene, jake is stupid with emotions, characters get drunk/drink a lot, lots of party scenes and wonyoung as your roommate/best friend bc she's the first idol i thought of

smut warnings below the cut

a/n: thank u to my lovely bff @seung-log for letting me bounce ideas off of you and for beta reading this fic and giving me encouragement the entire way! ilysm <3

now playing: under the table by banks

smut warnings: dom!jake, sub!reader, hard and soft dom jake, implications of sub!jake (my agenda y'all he had to be here somewhere), degradation (slut, whore, etc), praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), fingering, oral (m. and f. rec), handjob, titjob, multiple orgasms, squirting, hate fucking (kinda), cumming inside, cum swallowing, cum as lube (kinda), finger in ass (f. rec), orgasm delay, marking, biting, spit swallowing, dry humping, grinding, slight 'sir' kink, choking, slight size kink (big cock/tiny pussy), fucking with clothes on, overstimulation, crying, slight dacryphilia, clit pinching/slapping.

your eyes drag over your paper hurriedly, looking for the red ink splotched at the bottom of the page, skin tingling as blood rushes to your head.

95.

you flip your paper over, eyes darting to your side where a pair of big brown eyes are already staring back at you. jake raises an eyebrow at you, showing you the big fat 100 plastered on the top of his test sheet.

your nose scrunches as you attempt to not give any reaction to the fact that jake has beat you. once again.

“ha! knew it,” jake smirks, basking in his triumph.

“whatever, sim. you know physics is not my strongest subject.” you try to brush his statement off, but his gloating begins to get under your skin. you poke your tongue on the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to smack him as he continues to sit there, simply staring. “what is it?”

jake shrugs, “nothing much, y/l/n, just the usual. enjoying the fact that i beat you for yet another week in a row.”

he’s absolutely over exaggerating, knowing you just topped his score in english literature yesterday. “whatever,” you repeat, not wanting to him to sense your sulkiness. “stop staring.” you wave a hand in front of his face to get him to look away, to which he relents after a moment.

jake would stare in shock and awe if he ever found out how this rivalry actually drives your anger. losing to him is always frustrating, of course, but nothing is more soul crushing than the butterflies bouncing around in your stomach every time jake looks at you and the way you fail to will them away every single time.

“wasn’t staring,” he disagrees, turning to face back towards the whiteboard, his leg beginning to bounce from the excess excitement.

“sure you weren’t,” you respond dryly, utterly too exhausted to deal with his bickering today. not with that way that stupid button up with rolled sleeves fits snugly on his biceps, round silver rimmed glasses sitting lazily on his nose, strands of hair falling delicately across his face. to top it all off, he’s wearing a ring on his pointer finger, tapping it lightly against the edge of the desk. the sound is bothersome, but not as bothersome as how utterly attracted you are to the mere image of the metal around his long finger. long fingers that are attached to large hands that lead to buff, veiny arms and broad shoulders, the whole sight nearly making you drool.

he must know how absolutely attractive he is right now. he must.

“hey jake, you going to the party at heeseung’s frat tonight?” jungwon calls from the seat behind him.

jake turns, nodding slightly, “jay and hoon are forcing me to go, i told them i already had plans but they wouldn’t listen,” you scoff, digging through your backpack for your laptop, knowing his plans were simply to study the entire weekend, plans that completely mirrored your own. he glances at you with an eyebrow raised in confusion before turning back to jungwon. “why?”

“the sorority girls are all coming,” jungwon cracks a smile, the smugness in his voice dripping with every word that tumbles out. he lowers his voice, leaning in as you still, trying to listen to jungwon’s hushed tone. “karina’s gonna be there, bro.”

you freeze, eyes glancing up as you pray you’ve heard wrong. yu karina of phi mu royalty? the most gorgeous girl on campus who also, unfortunately for your cynical brain who wants so desperately to hate the girl, happens to be the kindest person on earth? of course jake would be interested in her, just like half the student body is.

jake nods slightly, muttering a “thanks, jungwon,” before turning back towards the front. you busy yourself with logging into your laptop, willing your brain to think about anything other than jake and karina together.

god, this is going to be a long day.

luckily enough, friday is the day where you only see jake once during your courses. you head home to your on campus apartment after the day ends, tired of your racing thoughts and hoping to recover in the confines of your warm blanket, cozied up with a good book and a cup of tea before doing some nightly revision.

you are not allowed such a reprieve from the day.

“y/nieeee!” wonyoung greets you at the door, a bright smile gracing her face. “we’re going out tonight!”

you drop your bag on the sofa before plopping down next to it, sinking deep into the cushions. “no, wony, we’re not going to heeseung’s party.”

her smile drops, pretty lips curling into a small frown, “why? and how did you even know there’s a party at heeseung’s tonight?”

“doesn’t matter. we’re absolutely not going.”

she huffs, stomping her foot lightly. “come onnnn y/n! don’t you ever get tired of working yourself to the bone week after week? i think you need a break, even if just for the night.”

you sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands, trying to fend off the impending headache that started on your walk from your classroom. you relent to her, a small sigh escaping your lips before you mutter, “jake’s going to be there.”

“and? don’t you want him to see your sexy ass in something skimpy?”

your cheeks burn at the insinuation of sim jake having his eyes on you in any context other than a negative one. “no, plus karina is going to be there. heard jungwon mentioning her specifically to him in physics today. so i’d rather not go and see something that’ll hurt my spirit more.” you pause for a moment, “he already beat my score on our physics quiz this morning, and i haven’t stopped thinking about him and her together all day. so can we please stay home?”

wonyoung sighs deeply, sitting down next to you. “who cares if they’re going to be there? you’re y/l/n y/n, you deserve to have a life outside of academics and obsessing over jake. and if he does get with her? then fuck him!”

you can feel your resolve breaking, knowing you can never truly say no to wonyoung with her pleading eyes and tiny pout.

“oh my god, fine.” you relent, sighing deeply when she jumps off of the couch with a little squeal. “oh i’m so excited! let’s go to your room, i know exactly what you’re going to wear.”

and that’s how you ended up standing outside heeseung’s frat house, your comfy tennis shoes contrasting the skin tight strappy black dress with a plunging neckline that wonyoung forced you to wear. “i’m not breaking my fucking ankle just so you can have more fun playing dress up, wony. it’s the dress and these shoes or i’m taking my ass there in sweatpants and no bra.”

“come on, let’s get a drink,” wonyoung grabs your hand and pushes her way through the crowd of bodies, “we’re probably gonna need it.”

“welcome ladies! wonyoung, nice to see you again.” you are both greeted by park jay mixing drinks when you step into the precipice of the kitchen. he does a double take when his eyes register you in front of him. “and y/n, wow! you look drop dead gorgeous. i’ve never seen you at one of these parties before.”

your cheeks burn lightly as you opt to ignore his comment, knowing jay’s reputation with the student body for being a man who… definitely gets around. wonyoung lets go of your hand, beginning to browse the drink options laid out on the kitchen island in front of her. “yeah, wonyoung made me.” you respond, coming to stand on the opposite side of jay as you eye the shaker in his hands. “you playing bartender?” he nods slightly. “what’s the strongest thing you can make me?”

jay chuckles in response as he pours what he was mixing in the tumbler. “here, try this,” he hands you the cup. you take a reluctant sip, the liquid going down with a strong burn. you shake your head lightly in response to the strength before downing the entire cup in a few gulps, needing the liquid confidence desperately.

“a woman after my own heart,” he stares for a moment before handing you another drink, this one pre-prepared. “try this one. don’t down it all at once though, i won’t be able to satisfy you if you keep that up.”

you nod, taking a small sip before a warm feeling begins to settle in your belly. “this one is tastier.”

“figured you’d like it, a sweet drink for a sweet girl.”

wonyoung cocks an eyebrow at him before shaking her head lightly at the way his gaze is completely on you, the ogling he’s giving your curves going right over your head but catching her attention instead. “me next, bartender.” he nods, turning back to face the counter. “your regular?” she nods in response, walking around him to slide up against you.

“you have a regular?” you giggle at her. wonyoung nods lightly, the small smile never leaving her lips, “jay’s been playing bartender for me since we were still in high school.”

jay makes wonyoung her drink and hands it over and the two of you exit the kitchen, opting to walk outside for some fresh air and maybe a free spot on the lawn to sit down at. there are small clumps of people scattered around the impeccably green lawn. people sip from cups and bottles, a few from cans. there are fairy lights strewn across the underside of the covered porch, and you wonder which frat member’s girlfriend convinced them to put them there. the moon illuminates the darker parts of the lawn, some of them coated in artificial light from various tiki torches strewn about aimlessly, stuck into the group roughly.

“wonyoung!” lee heeseung’s booming voice carries across the lawn from where heeseung and sunghoon are playing beer pong. “come join!”

you approach the table, “y/n, is that you?” you nod, smiling. “hi, heeseung.”

“is this your first frat party?” you nod again and he cracks a smile in response. “how are you enjoying it?”

“we just got here, so i haven’t seen much.” heeseung nods, scooting over on his side of the ping pong table.

“be my partner, wonyoung go stand by hoon.” you find nothing inside of you that wants to argue, knowing that you and heeseung get along, as much as two people who don’t know each other all that well can get along.

you glance up at heeseung as you stand next to him, “i’ve never played, heeseung.” his smile grows wider at your admission. “well, it’s our turn, so let me show you.”

heeseung moves you to stand in front of him, pressing you between the edge of the table and his wide t-shirt covered chest. “so grab the ball,” he places it in your hand before covering it with his own, much larger one. “aim, and toss!” heeseung guides you to toss the ball, it lands in one of the cups with a satisfying plop and you smile, glancing up at him where he’s smiling back down at you.

across the lawn, unbeknownst to you, an irritated sim jaeyun is ignoring his conversation with karina, watching the way heeseung is crowding your space and holding your hand. he’s not mad, no, why the hell would he be mad? he hates you. he’s got the yu karina in front of him giving him bedroom eyes, yet all he can focus on is the way heeseung presses himself against your back. jake feels the strange anger brewing inside his gut, completely checked out of his conversation with karina.

karina is here, ripe for the taking, absolutely willing and eager to flirt with jake, but all he can manage to do is stare at you, willing you with his mind to glance over at him, to see him standing here with her. he can’t believe you’re standing so close to his best friend, basically inviting him to fuck you in front of everyone here with your innocent stare.

wonyoung takes the cup and downs it, “next time let her throw for herself, hee.” sunghoon accuses, “no cheating in beer pong, man.”

“y/n’s never played!” heeseung defends, never moving from where he’s got you trapped, his body feeling so close and his towering size intimidating you a bit. “had to teach her, it’s the least i can do.”

before he can register how his body is reacting, jake’s leaving karina without so much as a second glance as his legs carry him over to the table. “move over hoon,” jake commands from the other side of the table. heeseung meets jake’s eye, having a silent conversation that not even sunghoon is privy to. heeseung gives sunghoon a look and sunghoon relents, allowing jake to take his place before wandering off to see jay in the kitchen and maybe find out if riki is passed out somewhere. wonyoung catches your gaze, her eyes as confused as yours are at the sudden intrusion. “gonna school you, y/n, just like i did in physics this morning.”

you roll your eyes while heeseung feels your body tense in his hold. “it’s okay, we got this. jake sucks at beer pong.” he says lowly, smiling to reassure you. you nod your head in response.

jake does, in fact, suck at beer pong, a fact you become well aware of within his first few throws. usually jake is decent at beer pong! but heeseung has watched jake down multiple drinks this evening, and when jake gets drunk, his beer pong skills significantly drop off. jake swears under his breath with every miss, hatred brewing behind his gaze every time he sees the way heeseung keeps you held in place, the way the pair of you celebrate every successful toss with a small high five, heeseung’s hand dwarfing yours in size.

“you lose, jakey boy,” heeseung announces as you sink the last ball with a bit of guidance from him. jake downs the last cup before slamming it back down on the table, the flimsy plastic being crushed beneath his hand a bit. heeseung gives you a squeeze of the shoulders and one last high five, “don’t be a sore loser, man.” heeseung moves, finally letting you escape as you walk to meet wonyoung at the other end of the table. heeseung grabs jake by the scruff of his neck, guiding him to another part of the backyard.

“god, that was so weird.” wonyoung shakes her head, “why was jake so mad? and heeseung is being weird too…”

the words swim in your own brain. was jake mad that you were there at all? you’ve never been to one of heeseung’s parties before, so that could be it, he could feel like you’re intruding on his space. you’d feel the same way if he ever raided one of you and wonyoung’s girls’ nights; though wonyoung would argue that that is a completely different situation if she ever heard your battling thoughts. was it because heeseung was so close to you? did he think you were cheating at beer pong like sunghoon did? that’s just too many questions for your already intoxicated brain to handle. your heart swelled at the fleeting thought that maybe he was angry that heeseung was close to you for an entirely different reason, completely unrelated to the game or his urge to beat you in every aspect of your shared existence.

“i think it’s time for us to go home,” you interject her ramblings, the entire situation beginning to overwhelm you, “i’m feeling tired.”

wonyoung eyes you with a raised eyebrow and a slightly squeaky whine as the two of you walk inside, “we just got here! come dance with me at least for a little bit.”

across the lawn, heeseung is scolding jake. “why are you being a fucking asshole to y/n, bro? she’s just trying to have a good time.”

“me? being an asshole? that’s rich coming from you, you we’re basically fucking her against the table, heeseung!”

heeseung rolls his eyes, knowing he was being very tame in comparison to some of the compromising situations jake has seen him in before. and it’s not like you or heeseung felt that way about each other. “i knew you’d be mad at that. jake, open your fucking eyes. people who actually hate each other don’t feel that way you do about her.”

jake’s drunk mind refuses to relent to heeseung’s words, always needing to be right and knowing heeseung is dead wrong, “shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“i do, actually, and i know better than you do.” heeseung shakes his head, sighing, “you’re too stubborn for your own good, sim.”

“fuck off man,” jake shakes himself out of heeseung’s grasp, heading inside for god only knows what reason. just to get away from heeseung and from his confusing thoughts of you, he supposes, in his far too drunk mind.

wonyoung tugs you into the living room that’s been taken over as a dance floor, but you tear away from her before she can drag you into the sea of people, trying to avoid dancing entirely. “i’m going to find the bathroom,” wonyoung’s attention is grabbed by a mutual friend of yours and she stays to chat with them, watching you stumble into a nearby hallway out of the corner of her eye, following your figure until you disappear around a corner, worry bubbling in her gut.

someone stumbles into you, nearly knocking you onto your ass. “hey, watch where you’re g-”

your sentence is cut off by someone pressing you against the wall in the dark corner of the hall, your eyes rising to meet a pair of pretty brown ones, jake’s pupils wide from how buzzed he is right now. you can feel yourself tensing in his hold, both scared and turned on from the mere proximity of his body. the heat of his body overwhelms you as he places one hand on your waist, the other against the wall at the side of your head, trapping you in place beneath his towering frame. “get off of me, sim,” you push against his chest, his body not moving an inch. fuck him and his broad shoulders and his thick, toned arms.

“are you trying to piss me off or something?” jake seethes, and you can see the anger in his eyes and the way he grips your hip tightly, threatening to leave a bruise. “trying to fuck all my friends? just opening your legs for every one of them like a whore?”

“fuck off, jake!” you argue, anger bubbling as you watch his eyes scan across your face, trying to ignore the bubbling arousal building in your gut, overwhelmed by his voice, eyes, presence, all of him being so terrifyingly close to you. “if i wanted to fuck all your friends, i already would’ve!”

jake’s hand next to your head is suddenly gripping your chin, forcing your head to look up further and stare up at his face. he sucks at the inside of his cheek, trying to reel his anger back in. “listen here, princess. none of my friends would ever fuck you, so stop trying before you embarrass yourself. you’re pathetic,” he moves his hand from your chin to wrap around your throat lazily. you can’t help the way your panties stick to you, wetness growing at the sight of him degrading you, his big hand wrapped around your delicate neck. you can feel your brain slipping already. “you’re worthless, do you understand me?”

you nod dumbly, swallowing a bit of spit to keep yourself from drooling.

“good girl,” is all his drunk brain can tell you, voice gravelly and lower than you’ve ever heard. his vocal tone makes the feeling in the pit of your stomach reignite. “remember your place, doll.” you nod mindlessly again before he lets go of your throat, his hand at your waist shoving you away from him. “get out of here before i have to teach you a lesson.”

monday rolls around unceremoniously, and knowing you’ll have to see jake first thing this morning is making you consider skipping class entirely.

you shake your head, knowing that nobody, especially not a man, is worth jeopardizing your grades over. no matter how annoyingly attractive he is.

you plop down in your seat, ready for the lecture. jake saunters in, his usual smile plastered on his face before it drops at the mere sight of you. your heart sinks, knowing that even your academic rivalry has never produced that sort of reaction from him.

“so, you and heeseung, huh?”

jake sits down next to you, eyeing you inquisitively. “what? absolutely not!” you hiss, “why the hell would you think that, sim?”

“beer pong,” he mentions, in a tone that makes you feel like you’re stupid. “i don’t like heeseung and i know he doesn’t like me. be serious now, jake.” you scold him, desperately hoping he’ll drop this.

“didn’t seem like it to me,” is all he says before tugging his laptop out of his bag and watching as the professor walks in the classroom.

“whatever, sim,” you brush him off, and the rest of your sentence gets caught on your tongue. “not like i care what you think,” you wish you could say, despite knowing just how much of a lie it is.

“good morning everyone, i finally have your test from last week fully graded,” your history teacher greets everyone and begins winding up and down the aisles, handing back papers with various numbers scribbled on top of each.

she places your paper gently on your desk, a huge smile greeting your face once you see the large 100 sitting on top in deep red ink.

“don’t start gloating now, princess. i got the same. you're not special,” jake’s words kill your remaining semblance of a good mood, feeling like he’s being meaner than he usually is.

“jake it’s 8 am, stop being such an asshole so early in the morning.” you fight, shoving the paper in your bag unceremoniously, missing the small frown that flits across his features. his thoughts flick back to heeseung scolding him at the party, making the frown grow on his face. you nose scrunches at his actions not turning you on like they normally did, instead just making you angry at him.

he shouldn’t feel bad, he really shouldn’t, and he's tricked his brain into thinking he truly doesn't care. your relationship has always been like this. something about seeing you this weekend made jake extra angry, and you’re the one he needs to take it out on. and if he kills your mood to match his already bad one? then all the better for his ego, annoying you being one of his favorite past times.

he continues his nasty quips throughout the rest of class, ones you try your hardest to ignore but somehow they slip under your armor and make hits at your fragile heart every single time.

after spending your down time studying in the library, you reach your next course and sit next to jake in math, leg bouncing roughly at the anxiety brewing at the thought of losing to jake again.

“oh thank god,” you sigh in relief, a 99 with a large circle sitting at the top of your surprise quiz from last week. jake feels his face twitch as he glances over to find your test sporting a higher score. he never loses to you in math, and he can feel his anger boiling.

“lucky break, y/n,” he bites, not missing the way your eyes turn downcast silently instead of fighting him with a quick, competitive response. jake doesn’t know why the sight of you ignoring him and not even arguing back makes his heart twinge.

class after class for the rest of the week, you keep topping jake’s score, but you can’t bring it in yourself to care. you feel like his combative words are filled with real venom now, versus the usual merely competitive undertones that they carry. sure, you enjoy when he’s mean sometimes, but it feels like he’s somehow crossed an imaginary line between sexy and hateful. and your brain can only take so much negative rhetoric before you’re closing in on yourself, blurring the edges of your consciousness to prevent any more hurt from being cast upon your body and mind. you barely stumble your way through the week, struggling to even drag yourself to class every day, knowing you’ll be met with his usually soft brown eyes staring daggers into your side profile.

you’re so worn down from the emotional toll this week has taken on you that you don’t even care that wonyoung shoves you into another tiny dress and drags you to another party hosted by heeseung. you choose to keep your inner turmoil to yourself, and wonyoung relents, allowing you to have your secrets for now despite being able to sense that something is absolutely wrong.

“jay, give y/n what you gave her last weekend, she needs it.”

“welcome back, pretty girl,” jay greets you, “bad week?” you nod numbly, meeting his gaze with obviously tired eyes. “let jay help you.” he gives you a soft smile, beginning to whip up exactly what he gave you last weekend.

“thank you, jay,” jay notices the smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but he doesn’t take it personally. “anytime, pretty.”

wonyoung grabs the nearest bottle of whatever beer they’ve stocked up on for this so called rager and follows you as you wander aimlessly. she grips your elbow, leading you to an open seat on the sofa in the living room. the party is less packed than last weekend, with only a few people mingling around the house, the living room no longer being taken over by an impromptu dance floor.

“hi y/n, hey wonyoung,” jungwon greets the pair of you, dropping down into the cushion next to wonyoung. “what’s up? enjoying the party?”

you nod simply, nursing your cup gently as your eyes can’t focus on any one thing in the room, vision slightly fuzzy and never once regaining clarity as you let all thoughts leave your head.

“you with us, y/n?” wonyoung waves a hand in front of your face. unbeknownst to you, ten minutes had already passed and both wony and jungwon had watched you as you barely even moved, aside from the cup occasionally being pressed to your lips. “yeah, sorry.” you mumble out. wonyoung gives your shoulder a small squeeze before rising to her feet. “we’ll be right back, jungwon and i need a refill, okay?” you nod as her figure disappears into the house.

a large shadow casts above you, drawing your attention up to meet big brown eyes. “why are you here? here to gloat some more?”

a small sigh leaves your lips as you tear your gaze from him before downing your drink at once, eyes fluttering shut. you place the cup on the coffee table in front of you before looking back up at him, “i don’t have the energy to fight with you right now, jake. please just leave me alone.”

jake sits down next to you, hand resting on your knee as he whispers lowly for only you to hear, “so you’re trying to act like you didn’t just kick my ass all week? you’re not gonna say anything about that?”

you nod a little, unable to meet his gaze, “jake, i’m so tired, please. i don’t want to fight right now.”

seeing the vision of you, a usually fiery, independent, self assured woman, surrendering to his words so easily causes a twitch in jake’s pants, his jeans beginning to feel a little too snug all of a sudden. “is that so?” he teases, his anger from the week still present in the undertones of his speech. “so you don’t even have the energy to be a good rival and taunt me back?”

you shake your head, “jake, please,” you whine, and its music to his ears. he squeezes your knee lightly, invading your space some more. “please what, angel?”

your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, mouth going dry at the three little words he’s just whispered to you. you stare at him with doe eyes and a shut mouth. “what is it, you can tell me.” he tries to coax the admission out of you.

“just so tired…” you relent, limbs feeling heavy.

jake stands and pulls you to your feet, ignoring how heavy his cock feels behind his denim as he leads you upstairs, “come on, let’s go find somewhere you can lie down.” the sudden kindness he’s showing you would strike you as strange if you were in your right mind, but the fogginess taking over your brain hides how absolutely weird this would be on a normal day between you and jake.

jake tugs the door of heeseung’s room open, guiding you inside before shutting the door and locking it. “lie down.” his voice is gentle, coaxing you into submission and a sense of calm, feeling safer knowing you’re away from the crowd and are able to breathe a little better without a thin sheen of smoke filling your lungs and obscuring your vision.

you obey, crawling under the covers that he’s pulled back for you before he tucks you under the plush material. “you shouldn’t be here while you’re feeling like this,” jake scolds you. your eyes shut gently, already falling asleep with a heavy heart and heavier limbs. jake watches you with a protective gaze as you drift off into dreamland, a sigh leaving his lips knowing you might finally have time to just exist, versus your usual act of constantly pushing yourself to the limit and further.

“you can’t just let people crash in my room, jake!”

“it’s y/n, hee.” jake glances up at the taller man for a moment, “she… something was wrong, but i didn’t want to send her home by herself. wonyoung certainly wasn’t going to go with her.” he scoffs at your roommate’s inability to grasp how strange you were acting. heeseung’s eyebrows shoot up at this admission, nodding slightly. “is she okay now?” he questions.

“she’s still sleeping,” heeseung had caught jake sneaking out of his room trying to get you a glass of water for when you wake up, planning to run up and continue watching you as you slept. not in a creepy way, just in a i don’t want anybody to come in this room trying to fuck on heeseung’s bed while y/n is sleeping there kind of way, as well as a i need to make sure no one tries to take advantage of her kind of way. why he wanted to do all of this, why he was treating you this way at all was still a mystery to him. “didn’t want anyone coming in and waking her up or messing with her while she’s sleeping.”

heeseung scoffs a bit at his answer, “you still don’t get it, do you?”

jake watches him with a blank stare, “get what?” he shakes his head in response, muttering a quiet “nothing,” before peeking inside his room to check on you.

“she’s fine, heeseung.” jake argues, quietly yanking the door shut. “let her sleep.”

heeseung shakes his head, “just let her uber home with wonyoung,” he suggests, testing the waters further to prove his theory is rocksolid.

jake gives him a glare that could kill, “did you not fucking listen to a word i just said?”

bingo.

“i’m kidding, chill.”

jake lets the comment go as well as he can, “if you’re done saying stupid shit, can you go grab me some water for when she wakes up?” heeseung scoffs at his words, but returns shortly with a bottle of water, to which jake gives him a small thank you in return.

“just… try not to be an asshole when she wakes up, okay?”

you don’t know how you got home that night. wonyoung told you it was jungwon ordering the three of you an uber, opting to leave with you since he lives in your building with sunoo and riki as his roommates. the rest of the weekend passes unceremoniously, your color slowly coming back after an absolutely off week. as you slouch down into the chair next to his on monday morning, you can only hope jake doesn’t fuck up your good mood as fast as he did last week.

“had a fun weekend?” you can’t decipher the tone of his voice.

“it was fine, i guess.” you shrug in response. “i don’t remember most of it.” you admit, not even caring how absolutely embarrassing that sounds, especially coming from someone of your academic caliber and positive reputation.

jake’s face seems to drop at your admission, quickly shaking off the expression, “well, are you ready for another week of me kicking your ass?”

“we’ll see about that, sim.” you smirk lightly, feeling your spark in this rivalry returning a bit, along with your deeply imbedded feelings for the man beside you. jake seems to have let go of the intense hatred he was holding the previous week, a friendly feeling returning to your long standing rivalry. “don’t think i’m gonna go easy on you, now.”

jake smiles secretly, happy to see the pep back in your step, so to speak. he hated seeing you the way you were at the party, your eyes looking lifeless and staring into the void aimlessly before he laid you down for a well deserved nap.

“hmm, what’d you get?” you peer down at the paper your professor has just laid in front of you. “97. you?”

“98.”

jake groans loudly, “god, you can’t just let me win, can you?” a smile graces your lips, “nope, you’ll have to fight me for it, sim.”

“alright, you two,” jay teases the two of you and you turn to face him. “y/n, you’ll never guess what today is.” he smiles brightly.

“i’m not sure, what is it, jay?”

“it’s my birthday, and i’m throwing a party at the frat tonight.” you smile at his admission, “will i see you there?”

jake shakes his head, teasing, “no, she’s probably gotta stud-”

“sure,” you interrupt jake, shooting him a glare before looking back at jay, “i’ll be there, jay.” you offer him a small smile, one which he mirrors while jake looks between the two of you with a scowl.

oh, you’re gonna get it.

you arrive at jay’s party, opting for a more casual pleated skirt and t-shirt since jay told you it was casual wear and he wanted a chill vibe, just some close friends. you’re assuming he invited you because of wonyoung, who had to opt out of tonight’s festivities since the poor girl caught a nasty case of the flu over the weekend. you heated up some canned soup for her and made tea before leaving for the night, telling her to text you immediately if she starts to feel worse.

“hi, gorgeous,” heeseung smiles at you, greeting you warmly and placing a drink in your hands.

“hi, heeseung,” you return his smile, watching him over the rim of your solo cup as you take a sip. “damn, this is nasty. what the hell is this?”

he shrugs lightly, “beats me. jay’s mingling instead of making drinks, so sunghoon’s doing the best that he can, i guess.” you nod before bravely taking another sip of the gross concoction.

“where’s the birthday boy?”

“ask and he shall appear,” jay smiles, coming to stand next to heeseung, “hi, angel, glad you could make it.” you smile at the two men towering over you. “thanks for inviting me, and wony sends her apologies. she got sick over the weekend.”

“that’s alright, hope she feels better.” heeseung says before the two of them begin whisking you off into another part of the house. heeseung separates from you and jay to greet a few people, jay’s hand on your waist to guide you without you getting lost. “i heard hoon’s making drinks? this is nasty, jay, have you taught him nothing?” you tease, glancing behind you at a loud noise sounds behind you. after finding nothing, you begin to turn back to jay before your eyes find jake standing with karina. the sight makes your blood boil, but you nearly shiver after finding him already staring over at you and jay out of the side of his eye. you shake off his dark stare, returning to your conversation with jay, not noticing the way his hand hasn’t left your waist despite the two of you no longer moving through the house.

“i’ll be right back,” jake tells karina, no longer focused on their conversation. karina scoffs lightly, knowing this is the second time in two weeks that jake has left her high and dry while she’s been trying to talk to him.

“jay,” jake greets his best friend, earning him a look of confusion from the birthday boy, “y/n, can i talk to you?” you glance at jay with a confused look, the man in front of you mirroring the same expression back at you.

“i– sure, jake.” you relent, setting down your already empty cup on a random surface before he’s tugging your arm, not caring about the searing grip he has on your wrist.

“didn’t i warn you to not fuck my friends?” jake’s hushed voice meets your ears, a frown pulling onto your lips at the question. you don’t remember talking about being attracted to any of his friends at all, let alone with jake himself.

“what are you talking about, sim?” you question, growing irritated at the implication that he probably thinks you’re easy.

“god, you’re so stupid sometimes,” he growls, pressing you against a bedroom door in the empty hallway. “you don’t even see them all eye fucking you? don’t be naive, y/n.”

you shake your head, convinced he’s fucking with you. “jake, your friends aren’t eye fucking me it’s called being friends with the opposite sex, you should try it instead of being an asshole all the time!”

jake yanks the handle near your hip, tugging the door open and shoving both of you inside before locking it behind him. “you drive me up the fucking wall, you know that?”

“the feeling is mutual, sim,” you deadpan. “are you done yelling at me? i’m ready to leave this fucking room and get far away from you. i’m trying to enjoy myself tonight, jake, i don’t need you fucking with my mood again.”

the dam in his mind breaks, and suddenly jake feels all his resolve slip away. he pushes you up against the closed door and squishes you against it. “god, you’re so fucking annoying, you know that? always know how to push my fucking buttons.”

the proximity has you holding your breath, waiting for his next searing words to tumble out of those plush lips.

“stop staring at my lips,” he demands, taking both of your wrists in one grip of his hand and holding them above your head. “you gonna keep making me mad?”

“stop fucking with me, jake, let me leave.” you know your words hold no weight in either of your minds, your body betraying you as your arousal is evident in the way your legs squeeze together.

jake shakes his head, “you need to shut up and take what i give you, since you’re so ready to be a slut for all my friends.” he grips your chin and squishes your cheeks with his other hand. “you gonna behave for me? or are you gonna be a brat?”

you finally relent, letting go of your argumentative front that you’ve put up around him for years as his grip on your cheeks loosens. you relish in the feeling of allowing him to take control, of jake offering you a moment to just exist without any expectations or responsibilities, to let him take care of you completely, “‘m gonna be good for you, jake.” you watch him with big eyes, his stare unrelenting as he watches you for any sort of discomfort.

“you sure you can take it, angel? i’m not gonna be nice.” you nod briefly, trying to use your hand before he grips tighter, “what is it, pretty? you can still back out now.” he tells you, giving you full control of the situation for a moment.

he watches a look flash across your face before you look downwards, embarrassed at the thought of what you’re about to ask. jake tugs your face to look back at up at him roughly, “want you to choke me,” you mumble. he grins wildly at your admission, hand on your chin snaking down to rest at the base of your neck. “like that, baby?” you nod slightly, pressing your legs further together under his intense stare. “tell jake what else you need.”

you take advantage of his momentary kindness to lean forward and capture his plump lips in a kiss, dirty and messy and utterly desperate. desperate for his touch, however you can get it. jake returns the favor, slotting his lips against yours, feeling every crevice of your gorgeous lips under his own. he fights back a moan, knowing he needs to maintain dominance over the situation. he squeezes tighter on your neck and you let out a small moan, allowing him to press his tongue into your mouth. you nearly gasp at the intrusion, relishing in the feeling of him nearly eating you from the inside out.

jake pulls away to stare back at your face, your expression already portraying how utterly fucked out you are just from a few touches. “can’t just take what you’re given, can you? greedy girl.” his tone is laced with warning.

“i can take it,” you argue lightly and he chuckles before moving you from the door to the bed, making you lie down on the mattress in front of him. “promise.”

“i believe you.” jake admits, sinking down to his knees and flipping your skirt up before pressing his nose against your clothed core. “bet you taste delicious, angel,” he stays there for a moment, licking against the fabric of your panties before pulling away. jake stands back up and unbuckles his belt, “another time, baby. need to fuck the attitude right out of you. always getting on my nerves.”

you watch as jake drops his pants and boxes just below his knees, revealing a thick, veiny cock with a blushing red tip. your cheeks go redder at the sight of him, already afraid of the stretch, “you’re so big.” the words tumble out of you without realization, your cheeks burning at the sudden admission.

“i told you i’m the best, baby,” he taunts you, “don’t worry, i’ll make you take it all like the cock slut we both know you are.” jake rips your panties, pulling a gasp from your chest as he holds the tip against your wet folds, the sight hidden from you by your skirt, “god, this turns you on, doesn’t it? when i call you a pretty little whore?” he feels your walls tighten slightly around his tip at his words and smirk casts over jake’s lips. “so all this time, my little angel has been getting wet every time we talk? dirty girl.” you shake your head, trying to hide your embarrassed face as your cheeks heat up. “don’t lie baby, i can feel you clenching around me.”

all the air is knocked out of your lungs when jake buries his huge length all the way inside, your hands going up to grab his biceps for something to hang onto as he begins ravaging you with a brutal pace, “see what you do to me? you make me so fucking angry, i can’t help but take it all out on you.” he feels your walls flutter around him as his thick cock drags against you, feeling every ridge of your pussy as his tip bruises your cervix with repeated precision. “god, you’re taking me so well, tiny little pussy was made to be destroyed by my big cock, wasn’t it?”

you nod dumbly, feeling cock drunk already, feeling yourself slip further away from reality with every drag of his veiny dick passing through you. jake fucks you into the mattress like he’s trying to split your entire body in half. you can’t get enough as jake moves your arms for a moment to tear your shirt off your body hastily, both hands reaching around and unclasping your bra before discarding both items somewhere in this random bedroom. he watches your tits bounce with each deep thrust, “god look at your tits baby, fuck– i could just eat you alive right now.”

“please,” you whine, not knowing what you’re whining for. “please what, my pretty little slut?” you don’t answer him, moaning loudly as he takes both your tits in his grasp, a hand holding each in a grip that’ll surely leave a mark.

“that’s what i thought,” he quips as he continues to plow into you, his head starting to spin from the feeling of your walls sucking him in with every thrust, never fully accommodating his size, “fuck, just take it all like a good cock slut, you were made to take me.”

his squeezing of one of your tits halts, moving down to pinch your swollen clit harshly, smiling wickedly at the groan of pain and pleasure that escapes your mouth. “too much?” you nod roughly, pleading eyes meeting his dark gaze, “too fucking bad.”

jake begins alternating between pinching and slapping your clit, relishing at the slight squeeze each action grants him, feeling himself tumbling to the edge already. “don’t you dare fucking cum,” he warns as he grabs your hips, shoving you up and down on his length like a fuckdoll, and you take it, sitting pretty with gasps leaving your parted lips as he chases his own pleasure. “fuuuuuck,” jake stills, cumming deep inside you, holding your hips flush to his body until he’s milked his own cock dry. you can feel your body on the edge of an orgasm as you wait for jake to finish you off now that he’s cum inside you.

he pulls out, watching his cum drip out of your gaping hole, “god, you still make me so fucking mad,” jake shoves his length back inside roughly, stuffing his cum back into you, “can’t wait to watch you come undone beneath me.” he moans, rubbing rough circles against your clit. you throw your head back, moaning his name loudly.

“that’s it, pretty baby, let everyone know who’s making you feel this good,” jake leans in and bites the skin on your neck, sucking and licking at the spot to soothe it after. he places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss there before leaning up and prying your lips apart, mouth opening obediently. your eyes open in shock, watching him hover above you before he spits in your mouth, then sliding his hand down to rest at the base of your neck, squeezing lightly. “swallow it.” you follow his instructions promptly, a moan escaping your lips after feeling it slide down your throat paired with the pressure he’s applying.

“cum all over my cock, angel,” jake growls in your ear, the grit in his voice causing your dam to break, the rubber band in your stomach snapping before your eyes roll back, colors passing through your vision and limbs feeling numb and tingly as jake fucks you through your orgasm.

“jake, stop–” you attempt to push him off, your actions doing nothing to halt his movements, feeling overstimulated as your orgasm finishes washing over your body. “jake–”

jake leans in, capturing your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss to distract you as he slowly slips out of you, taking his fingers and shoving the cum mixture back into your leaking hole. he pulls away, glancing down at the sight of both of your fluids leaking out of you, groaning at the sight, “fuck, you’re perfect,” his head feels dizzy as he catches your lips again, biting softly against your bottom lip before pulling away again. “let me clean you up,” jake presses a final kiss against your lips, resisting the urge to slip his tongue down your throat as far as it can reach.

he returns shortly with a wet cloth from the en suite bathroom, manhandling you to sit further up against the pillows before wiping you down, getting the cum out of your gaping hole. he returns to the bathroom, wiping himself off before tugging his jeans back onto his hips and tossing the washcloth in the trash. whatever frat brother this room belongs to certainly won’t be missing that…

you stare up at the ceiling, panting and wiping the sweat from your forehead. “fuck.”

“fuck what? fuck you? i just did,” he argues, grabbing your torn panties from wherever they landed in the room and pocketing them discreetly.

“shut up, sim,” you cover your eyes with your arm, refusing to look at him.

“hey, look at me,” jake pries your arm off and your eyes open slowly, the sight of him with his post sex glow knocking the wind out of you. “you okay?” his question is sincere, his gaze on you doubly so. you nod lightly, a small smile taking over your features, “good.”

“can’t believe you ripped my panties…” you grumble, sitting up slightly to look for your shirt and bra. jake’s hands grip your tits absentmindedly, “i’m not a fucking stressball, jake!” jake just laughs, pinching one of your nipples in retaliation, watching the nearly silent moan that leaves your perfect pink lips. “fuck, don’t do that again unless you want another round.”

he perks up at the words, “you really mean that?”

“i–”

a loud pounding on the door startles both of you, “open the fuck up!”

you scramble to grab your bra and shirt, shoving them back on as jake wills his slowly rising dick to lower once more. he glances at you and you nod at him. jake unlocks the door and swings it open, meeting the eyes of a very tall, very angry man.

“get the fuck out, both of you,” he booms and the two of you scurry out quickly, a small giggle escaping your lips at the sight of his bright red, angry face.

“he was gonna kick your ass, jake…” you tell him as the two of you rush down the hallway, unknowingly in the opposite direction of the living room.

“would’ve been worth it,” jake smirks, stopping and gripping your hips lightly, the intimacy of his thumbs rubbing on your bare skin making your head spin, “your pussy is heaven.”

you smile, small and subtle, eyes wide, “not mad at me anymore?”

he shakes his lightly, “could never really be mad at you.” jake offers you a coy smile.

“doesn’t seem like it,” you argue, smile slipping from your features the tiniest bit. “well… every time you make me mad i can just fuck you like that again. is that what you want, pretty girl?”

your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, “is that what you want, jake?” he nods slightly, “i’ll fuck you whenever and where ever you want if you’ll let me, baby. no strings attached.”

your heart drops at those three little words leaving his lips, hope of jake reciprocating your feeling sinking deeper into the abyss that clouds your mind most days. his offer is a glimmer of hope, your brain reeling to feel him like that again, even if he’s ‘fucking the attitude’ out of you over and over. you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” you half-lie, continuing to shield your true feelings from him.

“just promise not to fuck any of my friends… you’re mine now.” you nod, heart fluttering at the implication of being jake’s, and the sudden possessiveness he’s now displaying.

jake’s grin grows, pulling you in by your hips for a frantic kiss, pushing his tongue past the expanse of your lips, exploring your mouth with need. you sink into his hold, stomach fluttering at the feeling of one of his hands reaching your ass, squeezing it in his large palm. you groan against his plush lips, allowing him to slip his tongue further down your throat.

“oh my god–” a shrill voice screeching from behind you has you pulling away from jake, seeing sunoo standing there, his hand now covering his eyes, “i’m so sorry, i– jay just told me to round everyone up for cake.” he apologizes and promptly rushes back to the living room.

“don’t worry,” jake whispers, “i can make sure sunoo doesn’t tell a soul, say the word and it’ll be our little secret, angel.”

you nod slightly, staring up at him with wide eyes, “thank you, jake.”

“anything you need and i’ll make it happen,” he promises, giving your ass one last squeeze and a small smack before guiding you forward, “go join the party, i’ll be there in a minute.”

“where have you been, dude?” heeseung questions jake after the cake is cut and shared, prompting the shorter man to shake his head. “nowhere important.” he can see the hidden smile on jake’s face as heeseung watches him, smirking knowingly as he catches your eye in the crowd where you’re talking to riki and waves you over. you excuse yourself and approach the two of them, trying to hide the blush in your cheeks when you glance at jake.

“hi, y/n,” heeseung smiles, “wish you were here earlier, i kicked the birthday boy’s ass in beer pong. it was quite the show.”

you return his smile, “sorry i missed it,” you apologize sincerely, looking down at your plate as you break off another piece of cake to eat. heeseung glances at jake, the smirk still covering his lips. heeseung takes in the way the tips of jake’s ears are turning red as he watches you place a piece of cake in your mouth. “nowhere important, right?” his low tone misses your ears as you munch happily on the vanilla treat.

shit.

jake smacks the back of his head, shooting daggers at his best friend as he whispers, “shut up.”

heeseung leans over to speak into jake’s ear, “just don’t break her heart, jakey boy.”

things are normal between you and jake during the classes you share, for the most part. you can’t stop staring, watching jake and zoning out as your professors drone on about whatever topic you’re covering during the period. you watch his eyes, beautiful and brown, as they stare forward, glancing to meet your gaze every once in a while. you watch his lips, perfectly plump and pink, which tug into a smirk every time jake catches you staring, biting down on his bottom lip at the sight of you watching him.

you take in the overwhelming presence of him, your nerves running in overdrive since the night before, knowing how absolutely stuffed he makes you feel, how jake’s big hands burn where ever they touch, leaving you yearning to be constantly held by him and his soft palms. his hair urges to have a hand run through it, dark and falling across his face in a satisfying way, framing his forehead delicately.

everything about the man beside you overwhelms you, and you can’t seem to look away.

god, you’re fucked.

“what the hell is going on between you and jake?” jay questions as you approach him, nearly falling into him as you try to walk around despite the slight buzz filling your bloodstream.

“jongseong, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him, grabbing a seltzer from the fridge and cracking it open, not hesitating to take a few gulps before returning your gaze to him. his eyebrow is quirked up when you look at him again, “you’ve never called me by my government name,” jay challenges, smirking with a knowing look.

“shut up,” you move to cover his mouth, to which he swats your hand away easily, his tolerance much higher than yours. “no,” he argues grabbing your wrist as you try to smack him, “i wanna know.”

you narrow your eyes at him, an action he sees right through, knowing you’re not actually angry seeing the blush growing on your cheeks, “nothing is going on between me and jake.”

“no, there’s something there,” jay tells you, “are you two fucking?”

you nearly spit your sip of seltzer out, coughing for a moment as he hits your back lightly, concern washing over jay’s sharp features. “jesus christ, y/n, don’t die in the frat house, none of these idiots here would know how to help you.”

you shake your head, breathing returning to normal, “jay, we’re not fucking.”

“you’re lying,” jay cracks a knowing smile, laughing lightly, “anyone with eyeballs is able to see there’s something there.”

your resolve begins to crumble, the alcohol seeming to take over your brain more and more, “i– i don’t know what we’re doing…” you shake your head lightly, “we… we fucked on your birthday,” you relinquish. “i… i don’t know how he feels about me, jay.” you hear a noise escape your throat, one that sounds far too vulnerable, and you chase the sound with another swig from the can in your hand. “i try not to think about feelings that much, honestly, they’re so overwhelming.”

jay laughs, “yeah… me neither, don’t worry,” he clinks his solo cup against your can and you both take a sip, “who made the first move?”

“jay!” you shove him, “stop asking so many damn questions!”

“tell her not to shove me like that, jake,” jay says, watching you with satisfaction as your eyes go wide and you whip around to see jake approaching the two of you. 

“don’t hit jay, princess, he has weak skin,” jake tells you, to which jay retorts with “fuck you, sim, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

princess?

well that’s a new one… all of these new nicknames jake has given you since he fucked you have been driving your head crazy, less than platonic feelings swelling inside your tiny, drunk brain as you stare up at the man who grabs a water from the fridge.

“i’m on no one’s side here,” jake argues, twisting the cap off and taking a sip of water. you watch his throat suck the liquid down, adam’s apple bobbing. your body buzzes in response to the small action, stopping yourself from reaching out and running a finger, or your tongue, over the expanse of his throat.

jay tucks a finger under your chin, pushing upwards to make your jaw return to the rest of your face. you smack him on the chest, “don’t touch me, jongseong,” you warn, trying to ignore the fact that you were nearly drooling over jake right in front of him.

“you wanted him to see you drooling, then?” jay counters, voice low enough for jake to miss it.

“shut the hell up,” you ignore his words, eyes returning to jake who is watching you expectantly.

“i’ll be back,” jay exits the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone in the dimly lit room among the various bottles of liquor lining the island and fridge.

“hi, gorgeous,” jake invades your space, pushing you backwards until your back is pressed against the edge of the cold granite countertop.

“jake!” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away, “are you trying to make sure people see us like this?!” jake wraps a hand around you, his palm splayed against your upper back, pressing you closer to him.

“maybe.”

you shake your head, watching his eyes darken as he watches you, “did you have fun talking to jay, baby?”

“jake, i’m not going to fuck him, so don’t even start getting mad,” you warn.

“i know pretty, i’m the only one who gets to see you like that, aren’t i?” your silence paired with flushed cheeks gives jake the answer he’s searching for, grinning in response. “good.”

“meet me in the bathroom at the end of the hall in two minutes,” he whispers into your ear before departing from the kitchen, the words making you squish your legs together. you wait with bated breath, watching as the clock on the microwave ticks to the next minute. fuck it, you mumble before setting your drink down and following him, knocking softly on the door before jake tugs you inside.

“hmm, eager, are we?” jake teases, locking the door and pulling you against him by your waist as he leans against the bathroom counter. “couldn’t wait any longer, could you?” you shake your head, words failing you as your face sits desperately close to his, desire swirling beneath your skin. “my obedient girl.”

“wanna suck your dick,” you beg, jake groaning and leaning his head back at your admission, “fuck, pretty, you can’t just say shit like that,” he pushes you down onto your knees, watching in awe as you instantly begin to fumble with his pants, tugging them down. you watch with wide eyes at the sight of his half hard dick sitting beneath his boxers, placing a kiss against the length through the fabric.

“don’t tease me, pretty girl,” jake warns, his tone conveying all the punishments you’d receive for disobeying him. “yes, sir,” you reply, the words going straight to jake’s cock as it hardens in your grasp. “say that again,” he groans, watching your tiny hand as you’re barely able to wrap all the way around his girth.

“say what again? sir?” you watch his cock twitch in your hand, the sight bringing a smirk to your face, kitten licking his tip before placing a delicate kiss on his slit. “you’re so big, sir, i don’t know if you’re gonna fit in my mouth…” you look up at him, blinking your eyes innocently.

you watch as his eyes darken at your actions, “i’ll make it fit, angel,” he presses on the back of your head, guiding you to take his length in your mouth. you slide down, his long cock pressing into the back of your throat harshly, the girth of it stretching your mouth out. “fuck, look at you– you were made to take my cock like this.” jake groans as he watches you suck him in, “my cock.” he reiterates and you nod around his length, continuing to bob up and down before jake takes control, fucking your face.

you begin to drool around his length as you let him use your mouth for his own pleasure, “fuck, baby, taking me so well– letting me fuck your throat like this, you’d let me do anything to this perfect body, wouldn’t you?” he doesn’t need a reply, already knowing the answer as he admires the way your lips stretch around his length, the sight stirring a feeling deep in his stomach. jake thinks you look gorgeous like this, gazing up at him with wide eyes and a hungry gaze, somehow taking his cock deeper every time.

his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly as jake fucks your face, chasing his high. you keep your mouth slacked, his girth and length making you feel completely stuffed, “look at these tits,” jake watches your tits bounce beneath your tank top, “fuck, you’re perfect,” jake groans as you reach down and squeeze his balls with one of your hands, the other gripping his thigh to keep yourself upright as you sit back on your haunches.

“i’m gonna cum down that gorgeous throat,” jake babbles, even his mindless near-orgasm ramblings sound like music to your ears. he yanks you back and forth along his length a few more times before shoving your face against his pelvic bone, nose smushing against the space right above the base of his dick. you groan at the feeling of his cum hitting the back of your throat, “take it all like the dirty slut you are,” jake commands, pulling away from your mouth slowly after his balls are empty, watching you with a lazy gaze. “swallow.” you follow his instructions promptly, gulping down before sticking your tongue out for him to examine, the sight nearly making him hard again. “good fucking girl,” he praises you, tugging you up off of your knees to meet your lips in a searing kiss.

you groan realizing jake is tasting himself on your lips, the fact not seeming to bother the man as he pushes his tongue into your mouth hungrily, large hands holding your face possessively. “mine,” he whispers against your lips, feeling as you nod in response. “thank you, baby.” he presses one last, gentle kiss against your waiting lips as he tucks himself back into his jeans. “let me make you feel good, too.”

you shake your head, resting both of your hands on his chest, a yawn rising from deep in your belly, “i’m okay, jakey,” you offer him a smile, “tired all of a sudden.” 

“come on, i’ll take you home.”

“i missed you,” wonyoung smiles as the two of you sit together in the library, “feels like that damn flu took me out for fifty years,” she exaggerates, giggling lightly as she sips on her coffee through a small blue straw.

“i know. you’ve missed… a lot.” you cover your face, embarrassment already heating your cheeks. “i… jake and i are sleeping together.”

wonyoung squeals and you glance around worryingly, watching as other students glare at the two of you. you smile in apology, turning to wonyoung and smacking her arm, to which she exclaims a small, “ow!”

“why are you hitting me? this is so exciting!” she whisper yells.

you shake your head, “i mean, yeah it’s exciting, kind of…” you sigh before meeting her gaze, “he doesn’t… it’s… he made it clear that this is a no strings attached kind of situation.”

wonyoung’s eyes go wide, “you’re lying!” you shake your head as her expression shows how much of a hard time she is having trying to process this information. “i– and you agreed to that?”

you nod, shame dusting your face and ears in a deep pink hue, “i just… i couldn’t say no, he had just finished fucking the brains out of my skull, and i think i’m just desperate to have him around in any way that i can… even if it means hurting myself in the process.”

“my poor y/nnie… he still doesn’t know you like him?” you shake your head, to which wonyoung sighs, “it’s been so long, why don’t you just tell him? what’s the worst that could happen?”

“you know exactly what could happen, wony. i could fuck up years of a friendly-ish relationship, and double fuck up the situation we have now. feelings just get in the way of everything.”

wonyoung places her hand atop yours on the table, rubbing the back of your hand in a soothing motion, “well, whatever you decide, it will all turn out okay. i promise. i don’t think jake would ever hurt you on purpose.”

you inhale deeply at the thought of jake caring about you on more than a surface level. “don’t say that, don’t get my hopes up… it’s just gonna hurt more when everything ends up exploding in my face.”

you don’t know how jake convinced you to go to the library with him, citing something about how you’ve been sucking in class these days and he needed to make sure you were studying so that he still had someone to compete against. which was a lie, you were doing just fine in class recently.

you’re absolutely trying to study, but feeling jake beside you makes it an impossible feat. your eyes skim over the digital textbook on your laptop in front of you as jake zones out at random areas of the room, every once in a while his eyes landing on you as he stares for a beat before allowing his eyes to wander around the room once more.

jake’s leg is bouncing up and down as the two of you sit side by side, tapping a pattern on his jeans as he struggles to focus. you eye him up with a confused stare, “what is it?”

jake pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, the sight sending heat straight to your core. “you don’t wanna know, baby.”

his response has a strange bout of confidence sprouting inside your tummy. your hand rises to meet him, rubbing and squeezing on his inner thigh, scarily close to his dick that’s getting harder by the second, “you don’t wanna do that, angel.” jake warns, watching you with a dark gaze. you can see the lust fluttering through his irises, dark and intoxicatingly addictive. you move up to his clothed bulge, giving him a feather light squeeze. jake bites back a groan, his head tipping back as his eyes flutter shut in an attempt to keep his composure. he leans over to whisper in your ear. you can feel his breath on your neck sending shivers up your spine.

“stop, or i’ll bend you over this table right now and fuck you in front of everyone here.”

you gasp in response, grinning as you watch him with a mischievous look in your eye, one that he’s come to quickly recognize since agreeing to your… special relationship.

jake pulls back, his stare darker than moments before and you feel yourself falling into his brown eyes, pupils wide and staring at you as lust dances across his irises. “last chance to back out, angel.”

you shake your head lightly before jake rises, packing both bags in a hurry, tugging you out of the library and heading to your apartment building. “your apartment better be empty, or else wonyoung might get a free show.”

“oh my god, jake,” you’re barely able to keep up with him as he drags you along with him, nearly stumbling over your own feet to keep up. you enter your lobby, leading him to your first floor room and unlocking the door hastily. the moment he’s inside the foyer of your apartment, jake is shoving you up against the door, his lips finding yours instantly. “trying to work me up in front of everyone, baby?” he purrs, one hand cupping your face gently while the other has a searing grip on your hips. every spot he touches burns, watching him with affection in your gaze. “too needy to wait until later, huh?”

you nod dumbly, covering the hand against your cheek with your own, nuzzling against it as you try to hide your growing shame at being so insatiable that you couldn’t even be in public with him for more than thirty minutes before jumping his bones.

“oh, my pretty girl’s all shy now that we’re home? what happened to that brat attitude from before?” jake kisses the back of his teeth before placing a closed mouth kiss on your pouty lips. you hide from his gaze, embarrassed at your bratty behavior from before. “‘m sorry, sir.”

jake nearly moans hearing you use the name he heard for the first time just days before in the bathroom when you sucked his soul out through his dick. he pulls you close in another passionate, messy kiss. “yeah? baby’s sorry?” you nod, watching him with wide, innocent eyes, not seeing the wheels turning in his head as he watches your tiny figure with glee.

jake walks you through the hallway, lips wandering and planting kisses on every bit of exposed skin on your upper half. you lead him to your door, twisting the handle quickly before stumbling inside. jake shuts the door with his foot as he backs you up onto your bed. “i think my baby deserves a punishment.”

jake presses further against your lips, his hands sliding up your frame to hold your tits gently, “could play with these all day,” he mumbles, kneading them in his large hands. you kiss him back slowly, feeling the tension from the past few days dissipate the further he pulls you in, losing yourself in the feeling of his soft lips dancing against yours.

jake smiles as he gives each breast one final squeeze before pulling your sweatshirt over your head, “had i known you were bare under here, baby…” jake sucks harshly on your nipple, your back arching up against his mouth, begging for more.

“you’re lucky i didn’t bend you over that table,” he bites at your breast, leaving a teeth mark on the side of the plump flesh. “everyone would learn fast who you belong to, wouldn’t they?”

you nod, moaning out as he continues his onslaught against your nipple, sucking and biting with fervor, his cock standing tall and proud in his sweatpants.

“you wore those on purpose,” you squeak out between loud moans.

“what? these?” jake motions to the gray sweatpants covering his strong legs, “didn’t know they’d affect you so much, would’ve worn them way sooner if i knew you’d pounce on me like the little slut you are.” he guides your hand to the crotch of his pants, allowing you to squeeze his length through the fabric of his sweats. more wetness gushes out of you at the feeling of the weight of his member, knowing all the damage he can do to you with it. “my little slut, isn’t that right?” you nod diligently, rubbing up and down on his length, trying to rile him up.

jake halts your actions, “naughty whore, can’t even be patient,” he scolds, leading your hand to dip under his waistband. you gasp at the feeling of him not wearing any boxers, allowing you to hold him in your hand, warmth spreading through your body as you jack him off lazily.

jake pulls his sweats down just below the base of his dick and it springs free, hard and ready for you. “fuck–” you groan, watching closely as your hand continues its diligent motions. “love your cock, sir.”

“i know you do, baby,” jake pets your hair gently, “such a good little cock slut, always ready to take me,” he dips his other hand beneath the waistband of your sweats, pushing his hands through your folds. “already this wet and i’ve barely even touched you.”

“just for you,” you groan as he dips one finger inside, pumping roughly, searching for that spongy spot inside of you. jake slips another finger inside, his movements quickening as he listens for the gorgeous noises he loves to hear spill from your lips.

“pull these down,” jake commands and you use your free hand to tug your pants and panties down and off your legs. jake can feel himself salivating at the sight of your gorgeous pussy, slipping a third finger inside next to the other two. he buries them knuckle deep before pulling out, repeating his actions over and over as he watches your facial expressions convey the pleasure he’s bringing you. “fuck, look at you, weak for me and i’m only using my fingers,” the commanding tone in his voice makes you shiver, eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze, dark and swimming with lust. “fuck, jake–” you groan as you feel his fingers begin to reach deeper, your pussy nearly swallowing his hand to the knuckles each time.

“look at how i’ve stretched this tiny pussy out,” jake chuckles, his voice rumbling with need as he glances down at his cock where you’ve halted your handjob, back arching off the bed. he removes his fingers promptly, causing you to whine loudly.

“sir, please–” you plead, eyes brimming with tears, “was so close! i’ll be a good girl!”

jake watches you with amusement, the sight of you whimpering beneath him forcing his brain into overdrive, “good girls do as they’re told. keep jacking me off and if you stop again i won’t let you cum.” you nod at his words, resuming your actions, groaning as you pay extra attention to his leaky red tip, squeezing harder every time you reach the top.

jake dips three fingers back inside you, watching as you squeak out and start panting as he hits a particular spongy spot inside of you. jackpot.

he assaults this spot, other hand snaking down to rub mercilessly at your clit. jake groans as your grip on him becomes tighter as you near your high, “gonna make a mess on my fingers like the good girl you are?”

you nod quickly, mouth hanging slack with your tongue lolling out as you squeak at every jab against your g-spot. “f– f– u– uck–” you scream out between thrusts, your pace on his dick speeding up as you approach the edge. 

with one particularly tight yank of his dick and a swipe over his tip, jake cums hard, liquid spurting out onto your chest and some on your gaping hole. he stills his actions for a moment before coating fingers on both of his hands with his seed. you feel his cum inside you, tears flowing at the onslaught of varying sensations on you at once. his other hand returns to your clit, his lips coming to suck on it as he rubs roughly, while still fucking you with his long, slender fingers.

“ahh!–” you scream out, back arching off the bed as the coil inside you threatens to snap, “fuck! jake–” a slap against your clit followed by a harsh suck of the hardened bud causes you to tumble past your precipice, all of your limbs stilling as jake never halts his actions. he pulls away from your clit to look down. the sight of you cumming, liquid spilling everywhere makes his cock jump, “fuuuuuck, baby,” he continues ramming his fingers inside of you with expert precision, “such a messy girl.”

his words bring a burning sensation to your cheeks, trying to scramble away from jake as he overstimulates you heavily, never ceasing his actions, “jake, please–”

“you’ve got one more in you, baby,” jake tells you, “let jake help you.”

jake removes his fingers before sliding home, his thick cock reaching impossibly deep inside you instantly, sucking him in with familiarity and a still present stretch from the sheer size of him. “fuck, your pussy is heaven sent, angel,” jake’s need overtakes him, jackhammering inside of you harshly, your body jerking with each thrust inside of your already abused hole. he snakes a hand around, holding your asscheeks apart with both hands, lightly tracing a finger around the rim of your asshole. “ahh!–” you gasp at the intrusion, “jake!–”

“this belongs to me, too,” jake tells you, slowly pushing the pad of his finger past your puckered ring, “jake!” you scream, eyes rolling back at the feeling of being double stuffed, even with just a bit of his finger breaching your ass.

“i knew you’d be a slut for anal,” jake whispers as his pounding continues, finger slowly pushing further in through your backdoor, “i’ll hit it from the back next time, how about that, my dirty girl?”

you shake your head, your body’s reaction saying the opposite as jake starts to pump his finger in and out of your tight hole in rhythm with the way his cock is pounding your pussy. “moremoremore!”

“yeah baby? more?” jake shoves his finger further, picking up speed in both holes, nearly cumming seeing the bruise already forming on your plush breast from the searing bite he gave it earlier, the imprint of his teeth visible even from a distance. jake uses his free hand to squeeze your throat tightly, “greedy little cock slut always needs more, can’t just take what she’s given.”

your vision starts to go white from the pressure on your windpipe combined with jake’s dick hitting your spongy spot and his finger pumping knuckle deep into your ass, knowing he’s the only one who’s ever been there. your eyes roll back into your head as you cum, the experience feeling different from any other time you’ve orgasmed.

“you trying to make me cum right now? squirting on me like that, baby?” more liquid continues to gush out of your hole, the wetness on jake’s dick making him groan loudly. he pulls his finger from your ass when the liquid is done streaming from your weeping cunt, smacking your ass harshly and groping at your cheek. “next time, i’m fucking this ass.” he gives you another rough smack, this time on the opposite side, before pulling out of you. “right now? i’m gonna fuck these tits.” jake crawls up your body sliding his dick between your plush mounds of flesh, squeezing them tight around his length. “look at you, letting me use this fucking perfect body however i need,” jake groans, pinching your nipple with one of his hands as he pumps in and out, eyes trained on the way your tits nearly completely cover his length. he chases his high, knowing you’re not anticipating his next actions, your eyes fighting to stay open as he uses you as he pleases.

“fuck, you’re perfect,” jake whispers, teetering on the edge of cumming before he slides away from your tits, shoving his length back into your gaping pussy. a few pumps is all it takes before he’s spilling inside of you, cum hitting your walls in long spurts and filling your pussy, dripping out of you and landing on the sheets beneath you. jake fucks you through his orgasm, pushing two fingers into your mouth before rubbing your abused clit with precision.

“no!– no more, jake!–” you try to push him away, overstimulation tingling around your body after two mind blowing orgasms have already rendered you utterly exhausted.

“your body’s telling me otherwise,” jake smirks, feeling your pussy tighten around him with every pump of his cock and flick of your hardened nub, “gonna give you one more, angel. you can do it.”

you argue against him, the little whimpers leaving your mouth betraying your actions. you scream loudly as the wave of pleasure washes over you, and still jake fucks you through it, his movements never ceasing. you still as it wrecks through you, orgasm finally subsiding as jake pulls out of you slowly, hands running up the sides of your body gently, holding you like you’ll break if he presses too hard. he traces the curves of your body with admiration, wondering how he got so fucking lucky to have you beneath him.

“look at my pretty girl.” he smiles as he watches you return to the land of the living, your mind spinning after three orgasms. jake leans over your body, placing gentle kisses all over your face and neck, littering your body with affection. “did so good for me, angel. such a good girl.” you smile as his words register in your ears, the ringing in them finally leaving as your body returns to its natural state of relaxation.

“no more, please,” you beg.

jake nods, offering you a smile, one that neither of you realize has hidden feelings brewing behind it. “no more, promise. my baby did so good.” he stands on the side of the bed, picking you up and leading you to the bathroom. jake sits you on the counter and starts running water, testing the temperature for you before corking the tub and watching it fill with perfectly hot water.

“mmm– jakey,” you mumble.

he turns to you, standing between your legs, rubbing circles on your kneecaps as he watches your drooping eyes try to focus on his face. “still with me, angel?” you nod lightly as he places a kiss on your forehead. “good, gonna get you all cleaned up and then we’ll get some sleep, okay?” you nod again.

jake sits there for a moment, memorizing the lines of your face and the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips. he turns and stops the water from running. “come here, beautiful,” jake lifts you up again and places you into the tub. you sit there, mind still fuzzy, watching the ceiling lights reflect against the surface of the water. jake tugs his shirt off before sliding in behind you, letting your back rest against his chest.

jake grabs your body wash, lathering it between his hands before he gently spreads the bubbles across your body, diligently scrubbing your tired body clean.

“thank you,” you mumble, leaning the crown of your head back against his chest to look up at him, “of course, angel.” he kisses your forehead and you smile at the action, feeling him rinsing the soap from your skin before your eyes flutter shut for a moment.

the sight of you falling asleep against jake gives him a warm feeling in his stomach.

he washes up quickly, trying to not disturb your sleeping form. jake uncorks the bath and stands, reaching for the nearby towel before helping you to your feet. he dries himself quickly after realizing there’s only one towel, and then he’s wrapping you in it and guiding you to step out of the tub, your eyes still conveying how tired you are. jake tugs on his sweats before stepping back into your bedroom, digging through your drawers for clean clothes. he finds a suitable sleep set and a clean pair of panties before returning to your exhausted form standing still in the bathroom, leaning against the countertop.

“alright pretty,” he guides your legs to step into your panties, pulling them up your legs slowly before following them with a pair of shorts, “did so good for me, baby.” he reassures your tired mind, placing a gentle kiss on your hip after pulling the shorts up to rest on your waist.

jake finishes drying off your top half before tugging the shirt he picked out over your frame, helping you get your arms into the holes. once you’re fully dressed, he watches you with an unknown emotion stirring deep inside his body. “nap time,” he offers you a smile before leading you back to your bed, making note to wash your cum covered sheets later once the two of you wake up again. he lays you down on top of your comforter to keep a barrier between the stained sheets and your freshly washed body, crossing the room to grab a throw blanket and placing it on top of you. jake sneaks in behind you, wrapping his arms around your center and resting his head on your shoulder, breathing in your fresh scent, a smell that brings a sense of peace to his otherwise busy mind.

“get some sleep,” jake kisses your cheek then your shoulder before returning his head to the place it feels most comfortable.

“goodnight, angel.”

you slide through the front door of the frat house the next day, watching as yet another party unfolds before your eyes. you glance around, looking for heeseung or jay, or even sunghoon, knowing jake would reveal himself later in the evening when he got tired of watching you walk around in the tiniest skirt known to man, one you wore purposely just to rile him up.

you pass by a few aquaintances as you continue your search, greeting them kindly, stopping for small talk. the hallways reveal none of the men you’re looking for as you glance down the endless expanse of random doors that line the walls. you stand at the bottom of the stairs, about to head up before you see two people nearly fucking on the top of the steps, causing you to turn around and head back towards the living room.

you walk out into the backyard, finding sunghoon talking with someone near the side of the house, beginning to approach them before you stop. their hushed voices reach your ears as a distinct accent hits you.

“there’s no way you don’t like her, man, i’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“sunghoon,” jake warns, “i don’t like y/n, bro. she means nothing to me, seriously. drop it.”

you feel your heart shatter beneath your ribcage, pieces scattering out and stabbing themselves into your organs as you step back into the house, bumping into someone who catches you before you can tumble to the ground.

“y/n, you okay?” heeseung asks as he watches you, searching your face.

“i– i’m fine heeseung,” you try to wrestle from his hold, “please let me go,” you whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks pathetically, trying to hide your embarrassed face from the tall man.

heeseung drags you into the kitchen, thankfully empty of jay’s usual presence, and he lifts you to sit you down on the counter, the cold surface against your bare legs grounding you the slightest bit. “what’s wrong? do i need to call wonyoung?”

you shake your head, burying your face in your hands, sobs racking your entire body. “i’m so stupid,” you explain between tears, “i shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, i really didn’t mean to, but i heard jake talking about me with sunghoon and i–” you whimper audibly, wiping your eyes with your forearm as you look up at heeseung, who is watching you closely. “i like him so much, heeseung, i have for so long, and he said i didn’t even mean anything to him, and now i feel so fucking embarrassed!” you ramble, your mind feeling fuzzy as you try to fight the tears continuing to tumble down your cheeks, “ever since jay’s birthday party he’s been treating me different, and sometimes i guess i had tricked myself into thinking he might like me back… he– he says the sweetest things whenever we have sex, and treats me so gentle after and calls me all these nicknames… i guess he just says that shit to every girl he manages to get in his bed,” your crying has slowed, anger beginning to mix with sadness as your emotions shift slightly.

“i can’t believe i actually went along with his dumb idea,” you scold yourself, “i’m seriously so stupid.”

you can’t believe you wanted so desperately for jake to return your feelings that you let him use you, believing that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did. and he shoved your hope right back in your face just to taunt you with it.

god, this is useless.

you’re useless, your brain reminds you.

maybe jake had a point in using you for his own pleasure. he has never once shown you any romantic interest before you agreed to a change in your relationship dynamic, so why would anything change suddenly at the drop of a hat?

why would you think you’d ever be enough for him?

you shake your head, eyes brimming with more tears at the memory of allowing him to use you without question, wondering if you even meant anything at all to jake, sexually or otherwise. how had your crush gotten so bad that you’d let a man devour you and rip you apart just to leave you to pick up the pieces yourself? the sim jaeyun you found yourself crushing on was leagues different than the man you just overheard, and you felt your stomach sink at the thought of the boy you once knew becoming barely recognizable.

“y/n,” heeseung’s voice brings you out of the fog, “y/n, it’s okay, you’re not stupid.” he wraps you in a tight hug, the tears returning as you soak the shoulder of his shirt. “jake’s stupid if he doesn’t realize what a catch you are, pretty.” he rubs your back gently.

“everything okay in here?”

“not now,” heeseung attempts to shoo jake away, to which the australian boy stands still, watching with confusion. “jake, seriously, go away.”

heeseung stumbles as jake shoves him lightly, “what the fuck did you do, man!”

“what you should be asking is what the fuck did you do, jake,” heeseung glares at him, watching his best friend nearly fuck up everything he doesn’t know he’s been longing for this whole time.

jake lets heeseung’s words slip past him, turning to you, eyes lined with concern, “you okay?”

you watch jake, tears still slowly sliding down your red cheeks, shaking your head, “leave me alone, sim.” the venom in your tone tears at his heart, watery gaze watching him with hatred brewing in his heart, “don’t pretend like you care about me.”

“i–”

“jake, leave before something worse happens,” heeseung advises him, holding back the words he actually wants to say to his helplessly blind and stupid best friend. jake obeys, walking slowly out of the kitchen with one last glance at you, the sight of you crying into heeseung’s hold nearly breaking him in two.

oh fuck.

the tidal wave of emotions hits jake all at once, feelings he’s unknowingly denied since you first met all those years ago beginning to settle into his gaze, watching you with hurt at the way you pushed him away with your words.

heeseung pulls jay into the kitchen as he’s walking by, instructing him to take care of you. heeseung approaches jake, who is standing right outside the kitchen and tugs him further into the house, away from you and your sad eyes. “jake, what the fuck dude!”

“i didn’t do anything!” he fights back.

“why the hell would you say that shit about her to hoon!”

realization dawns on him, bringing jake to rub a tired hand against his face, “god, she heard me, didn’t she?” jake asks sheepishly, to which heeseung hits him in the shoulder, saying “yes, you idiot!”

“fuck…” jake sighs deeply, looking up at heeseung, “i really fucked up, didn’t i?”

“yes, dummy!”

jake pinches the bridge of his nose, biting his lower lip out of frustration, “if i was her i’d hate me right now.”

“did you actually mean all that shit you said?”

“i– i didn’t really think much about what we were doing, but hoon was grilling me and saying all this shit like he always does and i just wanted him to shut the hell up, he was overwhelming me with all his stupid questions,” jake shakes his head, frustration brewing in his stomach.

“you like her, don’t you?” jake doesn’t meet heeseung’s eyes, only nodding and sighing deeply, “i didn’t think i did, but seeing her push me away like that made me so sad, dude. i don’t want her to hate me…”

“sometimes you’re stupid, jake,” heeseung places his hands on his shoulders, “just go, man. sleep it off and give her some space. you broke her damn heart, dude.”

you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, glancing around before realizing you’re still in the frat house. “good morning, sunshine,” sunghoon smiles at you as he exits the bathroom, “about time you woke up.”

“sunghoon… what the hell happened last night?” your mind is running a mile a minute, praying you didn’t sleep with jake’s best friend.

“there was no funny business, don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he reassures you, “heeseung brought you here after you nearly cried yourself into a coma in the kitchen.”

you rub at your eyes, sighing loudly as the night’s events wash over you suddenly. “jake’s not here, is he?”

sunghoon shakes his head, “no, he’s not here, so don’t freak out.”

you sigh loudly, “are jay and heeseung here?” sunghoon nods in response, “yeah, jay’s probably cooking something up for you right now.”

“morning, sleeping beauty,” jay greets you as you stumble into the kitchen, the clothes against your skin meant for a much larger frame as you nearly trip over the extra fabric hanging off the bottom of your sweatpants, the legs too long for your shorter body. these must be heeseung’s…

“hi,” you return the greeting, sliding up to sit at a barstool at the island. “is… are you guys okay?”

“us?” jay questions, glancing back at you from his spot at the stove where he’s frying two eggs for you, “i should be asking how you are, y/n.”

“i– i don’t know, honestly. my head really hurts.” jay nods his head towards the end of the island, “heeseung left some ibuprofen out for you.”

you take it, mentally noting to thank him later. “how are you feeling about… everything you heard?” jay questions, trying to choose his words carefully.

“i– he really hurt me, jay.” jay can hear the sniffle in your voice, mentally cursing out his best friend for being so damn blind to his own feelings this whole time. “i don’t… i don’t think i’m gonna go to class today. i can’t face him right now.” your voice is small, your spirit broken from what you overheard last night, knowing all of this, all of you, everything the two of you experienced together and made each other feel, truly meant nothing to him.

“eat up,” jay presents your plate to you. “how’d you know how i like my eggs?”

jay shrugs, grinning, “lucky guess,” he lies easily, knowing now wouldn’t be the right time to tell you that jake gave all six of his close friends a rundown on your favorite and most hated foods after getting plastered one night a few weeks ago.

heeseung ends up driving you back to your apartment, despite protests that it’s close enough to walk. he drops you off, making you promise to eat lunch at the least.

you spend the day lying in bed, alternating between crying until you can feel your chest heaving and a dryness in your eyes from having already cried all the liquid out of your body, to taking intermittent naps, snuggling under your blanket, grasping it tightly for any semblance of stability.

of all the people he chose to hurt, it had to be you. you, the person who has been with him through many stages of life, competing closely with him and hiding your feelings from the first day that you met. the doe eyed boy you met all those years ago felt like a distant memory from the man who decided to control your life and mind, using you for his own gain and tossing you aside when he felt it was fitting.

oh the things you’d do to forget you ever met sim jaeyun.

the next day you drag yourself out of bed, attempting to at least look presentable before stumbling into class, walking to the back and sitting next to riki, not daring to even glance in jake’s direction. riki greets you with a slight nod of his head and you offer him a small smile, the most genuine one you can muster up, for him not forcing you to speak. you know your voice will betray you, and the minute you start speaking you’ll cry instantly.

jake can’t stop looking back at you, his heart breaking every time he sees the frown etched into your features, brows tugged down and lips curling into the opposite of what he wants to see. he tries to catch your gaze, but you avoid him completely, “can he stop looking back here,” you mumble, pulling a small chuckle from riki’s lips. “don’t pay him any mind, y/n.”

the class goes by agonizingly slow, each pointed glance in your direction from jake tearing the pieces of your heart further apart. you ignore him time after time until the professor dismisses you, and you turn to riki with pleading eyes. “can i… can i walk out with you?”

“of course,” riki’s kindness makes your gloomy day a little bit brighter as he gathers his things and leads you out of the classroom, using the door furthest from jake. jake watches you leave, sighing deeply, hoping you won’t avoid him forever.

you walk into your next class with jake a minute late, glancing around to see all the seats taken besides your usual one beside the man you’d like to see the least right now. you set your things down gently and take your seat, watching the professor as they drone on about the lesson. you will your brain to focus on the lecture, but the presence beside you is causing a thumping in your skull and a buzz in your bones. jake keeps stealing glances at your profile, watching and holding himself back from reaching out to touch you gently, to calm the leg that you’re shaking beneath your desk.

you spend the period zoning out, not even caring when the teacher hands out the tests from last week, a high score sitting atop your worksheet. jake watches as you pick the paper up, seeing that he’s lost to you again. the realization doesn’t bring him anger or a competitive drive today, no, it brings him an immense feeling of being lost. jake thinks he’s lost apart of himself when you started ignoring him, and he knows it’s his own fault, vowing to heeseung that he’d fix what he broke between the two of you

you leave the classroom as quickly as humanly possible, hoping to escape without jake catching you. “y/n, please, can we talk?” he questions after catching your wrist in his grasp in the hallway.

you shake your head, watching him with a teary gaze, unable to even squeak out all the things you want to say to him. you want to curse him for ever making you fall for him completely. you urge to reach out and pound your fists against his chest, knowing he’s not hurting the way you are. you want to cry in front of him, making him watch to see how he’s broken you down to the lowest version of yourself. but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of any of these reactions, knowing he’d love to see you suffering because of him, knowing he played you just the exact way he planned to.

you yank your hand away from his grip, the skin burning after you rip it from his grasp. you leave as fast as your exhausted, beat down body can carry you, opting to skip the rest of the day’s obligations.

“y/n, here,” wonyoung perches herself on the side of your bed, “i brought you some ramen, heeseung dropped it off for you, said it’s his favorite brand.” heeseung had omitted the fact that this brand is actually jake’s favorite and not his, the sneaky bastard. she smiles as she presents the bowl to you, with some fresh toppings she obviously adding sitting atop the broth and noodle mixture.

“thanks, wony,” you take a bite, groaning at the taste, “this is so good.”

“good,” she watches you eat with worried eyes, “how are you feeling?”

you swallow your bite before looking up at her, “a little better, i guess.”

wonyoung offers you a weak smile, knowing it’s killing her inside to see you going through this situation with jake. “are you going to your next class?” she questions, hoping you’ll say yes, knowing your grades will start to be affected if you keep skipping the way you have the past few days. she also knows all too well that no man is worth jeopardizing your future over, no matter how long you’ve liked him.

you nod, slurping up the bowl’s contents with speed, “yeah, my professor emailed and asked if i was okay, and i don’t want to worry her any further.”

wonyoung nods in approval at your response, “good. just ignore him the whole time, okay?” to which you nod, gulping down the rest of your broth.

you approach your next class feeling a bit better after eating the meal wonyoung so generously made for you, even if ramen is quick and easy to make, she really didn’t have to care for you the way she did time and time again.

you feel a tug on your arm as someone tugs you in the opposite direction of the place you were heading to, pulling the both of you inside an empty classroom and blocking the exit.

you look up to see jake watching you, his eyes less bright than they usually appear to be, the spark you see whenever he’s hellbent on beating you seemingly absent from his gaze.

“please don’t,” you beg him, not wanting to hear him gloat or whatever the hell he’s planning to do here.

“y/n, please,” jake begs, eyes searching your face for some kind of reassurance that you wouldn’t leave, “please, i need to apologize.”

“you don’t have anything to apologize for,” you lie straight through your teeth, “so can i please just leave?”

jake’s pleading voice is slowly breaking down your resolve, “please, can i at least explain?” when you don’t answer, he takes the opportunity to start laying his feelings out on the table.

“whatever you heard me say, i know it sounded horrible, but i didn’t mean it.”

“oh, so you didn’t mean that i meant nothing to you?” he winces at the words that you throw back in his face, knowing that was one of the worst things he could’ve said.

“no, i didn’t mean it,” jake tells you, gaze piercing yours, “i– i was stupid, y/n, you have to believe me. i only said that to get sunghoon to back off, of course i care about you. i’ve spent how many years by your side? and you think i would actually hate you?”

the words ring in your ears, making your head hurt as you continue to listen to him. “i’m so sorry, y/n, i really am. sunghoon wouldn’t leave me alone and i just wanted him to shut up for once.” jake rubs his hands over his face, breathing a deep sigh against his palms before shoving them back into his jacket pockets, gaze meeting yours again. “when we started messing around… i didn’t know how i felt… i thought it was just fun. but every time i saw you i felt weird, and i didn’t know what it meant, i figured it was normal because we’ve been rivals for so long and i’ve always felt this drive to be better than you. but it started feeling different… i started to just want to be around you all the time, whether we were fucking or not, and i kept denying it to everyone who would ask me.”

jake’s mind flashes back to the countless times sunghoon has harassed him, asking when he’s going to confess to you. “i don’t know when i realized it, but i like you, y/n. i guess i have this whole time, and i’m so sorry i made you think that i didn’t.” he resists the urge to reach out and hold your hand in his, knowing the physical touch would likely only bring him comfort, versus the intent being to ground you as well. “i… i really fucked up, i shouldn’t have asked you to be in a friends with benefits relationship, i should’ve known that’s not what you wanted. i’m sorry if you ever felt like i was using you, i… i’m sorry i didn’t realize my feelings sooner.”

jake’s speech knocks the wind out of you as you stare at him blankly, tears brewing in your eyes, “jake, i–” you mumble, mind swimming at his admission. “thank you for apologizing, i– i think i need some time, if that’s okay.” he nods quickly in response, the action warming you up inside.

“take all the time you need. what i just said is a lot, and it’s okay if you don’t forgive me. i just needed to tell you before i lost you forever.”

“i– i’ll talk to you later okay?” jake nods, moving out of the way of the door, watching you walk away. anxiety brews in his gut as he hopes with his entire being that you’ll forgive him, even though deep down he wonders if he even deserves an ounce of forgiveness.

jake concludes that he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, that he’s royally fucked up and he’s determined to fix what he’s broken between the two of you.

you let your emotions brew for a few days, jake choosing to give you space during class and every other time you find yourself near him. relief washes over you every time you see him and he doesn’t rush to your side, knowing the simple action would just further complicate the already confusing thoughts in your mind.

you’re still obviously hurt by what he said, jake’s words creating a hole in your heart feeling like you wasted so much time loving someone and hoping to be loved back, even agreeing to a relationship you knew you couldn’t handle without your emotions getting in the way somehow.

the sincerity of his apology and the fear in his eyes when he explained everything to you still remains in your mind, all the positive memories you have with jake sitting in the forefront of your consciousness. you are itching to forgive him, but the fear of him breaking your heart again rings through your mind with every passing thought.

you’ve made a decision in your head, praying it’s the right one, not wanting to get burned again.

“can i talk to you?”

jake nods his head, bidding his friend goodbye as he follows you through campus. you stop at a bench near the fountain by the engineering building, watching as the water spouts up in a gorgeous display, zoning out for a minute. jake waits patiently for you to speak as he takes a seat next to you.

“jake,” you turn to look at him, “i… i accept your apology.” jake’s eyes light up at your admission, “i know feelings are complicated, mine certainly are right now, i just– did you know the whole time how much i liked you?”

jake shakes his head, “no, y/n, i wouldn’t put you through that on purpose, i promise.”

you nod in response, watching your hands that are clasped together in your lap for a moment before looking back up at him. “i– do you really like me? you promise you’re not lying?”

jake nods, reaching out to take your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze, “no lies, i promise.”

“what… where do we go from here?”

jake thinks for a moment, not prepared for the question, before sucking in a breath and asking, “how about i take you out on a real date?”

he catches you off guard with his question, “yeah?” he nods, “yeah, pretty. i meant everything i said, i don’t want you to slip away when you mean so much to me… it just took me an embarrassingly long time to realize how absolutely infatuated with you i am.”

his last sentence makes you embarrassed and you attempt to hide your burning cheeks, knowing your ears are betraying you with the tips turning red. “okay, sim, you can take me on a date.” jake’s eyes sparkle at your agreement, relief crashing over his body in an overwhelming display. you smile at the way his eyes shine as he watches you, feeling contentment settle into your heart, as if he’s putting the broken pieces back together slowly, fixing what he accidentally broke inside you.

“jake, where are you taking me?” you question, brow quirked as the man you’ve wanted for so long stands before you, leaning against his sleek red car. the sight of him waiting so casually, eyes trained off at something in the distance, makes your heart flutter.

“hi, beautiful,” jake greets you, grabbing your hand and raising it above your head, guiding you to do a spin for him as he appreciates your outfit. “you look gorgeous, angel.”

“you don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” you smile at jake as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you inside. he steps over and takes his seat on the driver’s side, the engine revving to life with the press of a button. “where are we heading?"

jake uses his left hand to steer, the right resting on the gear shift as he takes the two of you off campus, being extra careful as his car now has precious cargo inside. “it’s a surprise,” the midday sun beams down on the two of you as he turns into a neighborhood. you watch his face, appreciating every feature that you’ve admired for years, heart swelling at the thought of the man in front of you reciprocating your feelings.

jake shifts the car into park after a short drive and you look around, taking in the surrounding area. a playground sits in front of you, a small forest sitting a ways behind it, tall trees towering over everything nearby. the sun still cascades through the leaves as jake opens your door, shutting it behind you as you step onto the asphalt of the parking lot surrounding you. he opens his small trunk, pulling a basket out and a small pink and white checkered blanket. you feel a buzz beneath your skin as your eyes sparkle, realizing jake has packed the two of you a picnic lunch for your first date.

jake leads you over to a small patch of grass behind the playground set, the spot having the greenest grass. you wonder if he picked this spot special for the two of you, the possibility of it making your heart soar. he lays the blanket down, flattening it out so no wrinkles are in sight before placing the basket on top and helping you sit down.

“don’t go thinking i’m some master chef now, okay? i had jay help me…” jake says, wanting to hide his face in embarrassment as he pokes fun at himself. you watch as he pulls a variety of dishes out, “but i made some stuff by myself, too!”

this feels strange, but seeing the usually confident and argumentative man you have fought against academically for all these years seemingly doubting himself? it is definitely a different sensation than the ones you’re used to. but the sight made your insides feel fuzzy, butterflies sprouting in your tummy, watching in real time as you feel yourself falling for him even more. “jake, this is lovely,” you place a hand on his arm, his movements halting in response as you reassure him, giving him a light squeeze. “you’re lovely. i’m flattered you did all of this for me.”

“i wanted you to see that i’m serious about this, about us.”

jake takes the plates and bowls out, handing you one, before setting the silverware down in the middle of the blanket. “here, we made some of my favorites and some foods i remember you mentioning over the years… i hope you still like them,” you can hear how nervous he is, “jake, seriously, stop freaking out. it’s just me,” you tell him as he opens one of the glass dishes revealing a bowl of homemade kimchi stew, a dish you know jake has loved for a long time.

“that doesn’t help me,” jake laughs a little at his own embarrassment and nerves, “that’s the whole reason why i’m so nervous… you’re you, and this is my one chance to show you how much i care about you.”

you watch as he opens the next dish, a box of chocolate covered strawberries, “jake,” you glance up, meeting his eyes as you nearly cry at the worried look in them, “i don’t remember the last time i even had these… thank you.”

“i remember you mentioned them sometime in sophomore year,” jake replies sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. “holy shit, that makes me sound like such a creep.”

you shake your head, watching jake, “stop it, jake, seriously. i think it’s adorable that you remembered that from so long ago. it’s not weird or creepy!”

jake sees the sincerity in your gaze, letting out a breath of relief, “i… i really like you, seriously, i don’t want to mess up my one chance.”

you grab the sides of jake’s face and gently pull him towards you, capturing his lips in your own, hoping to wash away some of his worries with the action. you feel lighter as you kiss him, his plush, delicate lips feeling like heaven against your own. you missed kissing him, and kissing him now feels so… different. refreshingly so, knowing that the man you’re holding in your arms reciprocates your own feelings that you’ve pushed down and hid from the world for so long.

you pull away after a moment, resting your head against his, “you haven’t messed anything up, jake, okay?”

jake stares into your eyes, his emotions bubbling and growing beneath the surface, watching as he falls more in love with you the longer he watches your gorgeous irises stare back at him, ones that he wouldn’t mind getting lost in. “okay, y/n.” you seal your promise with another kiss, feeling him smile against your lips this time, knowing the man you’re sitting across from is the same one you fell for all those years ago. caring, kind, extremely driven, gorgeous, and above all, captivating in every way, his drive and need to succeed always pushing yourself to be the best version of yourself. and you know his drive to be the best has extended here, going above and beyond to impress you with a sentimental date, the concept of which makes you feel mushy inside.

time passes quickly, conversation and good food flowing between the two of you, giggles and stories being shared, feeling yourself fall further for him the longer you spent by his side. when the sky starts to darken with clouds and the threat of rain, you and jake pack quickly, rushing to the car when raindrops start to fall on your heads. jake drives you both back to campus, the ambience of the water falling on the hood of the car along with the low lull of the radio causing you to fall asleep. jake pulls into his usual parking spot outside his apartment building, picking you up in his arms and setting the picnic basket on your stomach, carrying you to his home, a small studio apartment on the second floor. after somehow unlocking the door without dropping you or waking you up, he sets the picnic basket on the counter before placing you in his bed, tucking you in under his freshly washed blanket. jake busies himself with putting leftovers away as you sleep before coming to join you, sneaking under the covers and spooning you.

jake places a small kiss against the back of your head, watching as your stomach rises and falls peacefully with each quiet breath you take. “sleep well, angel.”

“i haven’t told the guys yet,” jake’s statement shocks you as the two of you walk into the frat hand in hand, a bustling party happening around you. you couldn’t believe after three successful dates and jake asking you to be his girlfriend, that he has kept that from his friends for all that time. “i wanted to tell them together, so they couldn’t bully me.” he jokes, leading you through the house, looking for his three best friends.

you find the three of them standing at the end of a hallway, near the room where you and jake first hooked up. you blush at the sight, glancing up at your boyfriend who gives you a quick wink. “what’s happening in your pretty little head, angel?”

“nothing,” you smack his arm, attempting to push him forwards to meet his friends, “let’s go talk to them before you or i do something crazy.”

“crazy doesn’t necessarily mean bad, though,” jake teases you before relenting, walking towards his friends who all smile at the sight of the two of you.

“i told you so,” heeseung grins the widest of all before jay and sunghoon’s faces drop suddenly, “pay up, jayhoon.”

“stop fucking calling us that,” sunghoon shoves his friend’s shoulder before fishing a $50 bill out of his wallet, jay doing the same but with a $100. “jay you should just be my sugar daddy at this point,” heeseung smirks as he tucks the bills into the inside pocket of his jacket.

sunghoon scoffs at heeseung’s words, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “heejay will never be a thing, so keep dreaming.” jay teases before looking at you and jake again, watching as you lean your head against his arm as you continue to hold his hand. “glad you came to your senses, jakey boy… i told you it’d work out, didn’t i, y/n?”

“you didn’t say anything remotely close to those words, jay,” you argue, to which he shrugs, “well, i was going to but then you started hitting me.”

“you were playing twenty questions with me while i was in a crisis!”

“we’re actually… i asked y/n to be my girlfriend last week,” jake scratches the back of his head, “so expect to see her around a lot more.”

“ha!” sunghoon smacks heeseung’s shoulder, “pay up!” he sticks his hands out to the other two men, who promptly give him $20 each.

you watch as the money is exchanged, “how much betting on us did you guys do?”

heeseung smirks at the two of you, “a lot. it’s been happening for longer than either of you will ever know.”

“nobody expected jake to actually man up and ask you to be his girlfriend officially this soon except hoon,” jake smacks heeseung and jay at this admission as you realize the trio has known of your semi secret dating the entire time, “what the hell, guys!”

“doesn’t matter, because it all worked out, didn’t it, lovebirds?” heeseung watches you two with a pleased look on his face, “and i knew it would happen, it just took a little while for jake to get his head out of his ass.”

“be nice,” you scold heeseung, “he didn’t know, don’t be mean, heeseung.”

heeseung relents, raising his hands in a defensive manner, “fine, fine.”

the five of you fall into a comfortable conversation, with jay cracking jokes and sunghoon laughing at all of them, heeseung watching them both with amusement in his gaze.

“can we go home? i’m kinda tired…” you ask jake after a while of conversing and enjoying yourself with the four men, staring up at him with two wide eyes that he realizes he’s never been able to say no to, and today will not be the day that he starts. little does he know the ulterior motive brewing in your stomach, wetness growing between your legs since you passed by the room where the two of you first slept together. “sure, pretty. let’s go.” the two of you bid your goodbyes to the trio, watching as they bicker about their betting habits as you head out.

the two of you drive back to jake’s apartment, which will soon be yours since your lease with wonyoung is coming up, and your soon to be former roommate and still current best friend has decided to take a semester abroad, getting into her dream program that she’s been talking about since the summer.

“are you really tired, baby?” a mischievous smile overtakes your features as you shake your head, leading jake to the bed and pushing him to sit on the edge of it. “oh, i see…” jake smiles, hands covering the expanse of your hips as you straddle to sit on his lap.

“want you to make love to me, jakey,” you plead, grinding your core down onto him.

“god, angel–” jake groans at the feeling of you pressing yourself against him, “fuck, you drive me crazy,” he pushes you down further onto his clothed member as you continue your motions, needing to feel more friction. “if i weren’t so hard right now i’d make you ride my thigh forever.”

you groan at his admission, movements faltering and he takes your moment of distraction to pick you up, placing you against the pillows. he pulls back for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head and you gawk at the sight of his toned stomach, only ever seeing it in glimpses during your previous escapades.

“mmm, i could just eat you up,” you tell him, running your fingernails up and down gently along his abs, “can’t believe you’ve hidden this under your shirts all this time…”

“you were itching to get a peek all these years, weren’t you, baby?” jake teases as he takes your shirt off next, tugging your bra off after and pinching a nipple between his fingers. you groan, back arching up as he sucks on the opposite one harshly. “j– jake–” you groan, hands threading into his hair and pulling lightly. he groans against your skin, loving the feeling of the pain rushing through his scalp. “oooh, you like that, pretty boy?” jake moans as you pull his mouth away from your nipple, eyes fluttering shut at the sting traveling through his scalp as you tug at his locks again.

“stop,” jake begs, “another time, baby, let me take care of you tonight.” he sighs in relief as you release your hold on his hair. “alright, sim, you’re free to go this time… but i’ll be saving that for later, baby boy.”

“god, you’re such a menace,” jake groans as his mind returns from the subspace he was slowly slipping into, sliding down the bed until he’s eye level with your core, seeing the wetness nearly escaping from your thin panties. he tugs your skirt off unceremoniously, “been wanting to eat you since the first night i had you, pretty,” jake bites at your panties and yanks them down with his teeth, the sight making you whimper at the pure sex appeal oozing from the man beneath you. jake leans in and dips his tongue between your folds. “fuck, knew you’d taste so sweet, angel.”

jake eats you out like a man starved, slobbering into your folds, pushing his tongue into your pussy, flicking his tongue inside of you. you moan loudly, hands gripping the sheets on the bed, a nearly pornographic sound escaping your lips as jake sucks harshly on your clit, stars appearing behind your eyelids.

“fuck, jake–” you glance down to see the man of your dreams perched between your legs, whimpering at the sight of him biting your inner thighs and gripping your legs tightly, holding them wide open for him to have full access. “you close, angel?” he smiles up at you, the vision of him with your wetness coating his mouth and chin pulling another noise from your parted lips. you nod quickly, “please, jake,” you plead, a request he responds to by continuing his assault on your already abused and leaking pussy, his tongue’s movements pulling a well deserved orgasm from your body, watching as your back arches up, pushing your core further into his mouth.

“jake!” you whine, fluid still gushing out, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure continues to pass over you in overwhelming waves. “‘s too much!”

“oh no it’s not, my sweet angel girl can take it,” jake argues before biting your clit.

“ahh!–” you scream, the sound bringing a smile to jake’s face, continuing to push you to overstimulation with his wet muscle’s motions against your pussy.

jake finally relents after you’re nearly in tears from the overwhelming sensations he’s putting your body through, bringing his face up to be level with yours, his clothed member pressing against your still dripping pussy, “you’re so pretty when you cry, baby.” he whispers with sincerity, capturing your lips in a quick, searing kiss before pulling away again to whisper, “i only ever want to see you cry because i’m making you feel good, okay?”

“okay, jake,” you whisper in response, smile tugging at the corner of your lips at your boyfriend’s insistence on treating you right until the end of time.

“no more crying unless it’s on my cock,” jake smirks, the words making you clench at your pure attraction and adoration for the man in front of you.

watching jake tug his pants down his legs makes you groan, staring down at the huge bulge pressing against his thin boxers. “stop teasing, jake,” you whine.

“baby can’t wait any longer?” you shake your head, watching as jake pulls his boxers off, the blushing, leaking tip of his cock making your mouth water. “ahh, what an eager girl. if you weren’t dripping onto my sheets right now i’d make you suck my cock. but i’ll be nice and give my baby what she needs.” jake rambles on as you can do nothing but stare at his length, drooling at the sight of it, knowing the stretch it gives you is always delicious, never fully adjusting to his generous size even after all the times you’ve been together.

jake breaches your entrance, letting just the tip sit inside your hole. you wiggle, trying to force him further inside, “patience, baby,” he scolds and you whimper at his strict tone coming out. “don’t want me to punish you, do you?” you shake your head. you know you could take a punishment, but right now you just want jake to hold you close as he makes love to you.

jake slowly slides in further, watching with hungry eyes as your hole takes him easily, “fuck, baby, i’m gonna keep you stuffed, my sexy ass girlfriend deserves to be filled up all hours of the day,” he babbles as he buries himself to the hilt, the snug fit of your walls filling his brain with even more delicious, dirty thoughts.

“mm– feel so full,” you mutter, watching jake’s face with adoration and love in your eyes, “thank you, jakey,” you whimper as he slides nearly all the way out, allowing just the tip to stay inside before pushing back in slowly, groaning at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him right back in without protest, “god, this tiny pussy was made just for my cock.” you nod in response, seeing jake watching your face now before he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing himself as close to you as he possibly can as he presses his face into your neck, sucking and biting at the junction between your throat and shoulder. jake tries desperately to leave marks, wanting to see them on your gorgeous skin when he wakes up next to you the following morning; little does he know you’ll wake him up with his cock in your mouth, mumbling around the dick that pushes an ache to your jaw about how you just wanted to help as you saw him sleeping with a tent in his boxers.

“need you closer,” you plead as jake rocks slowly in and out of you, love penetrating each thrust as he buries himself as deep as possible inside your pretty hole, the sensations pushing jake to the edge, the rubber band in his stomach begging to snap. “ugh–” you groan against jake’s lips as he captures them in a kiss, slow and sloppy but so full of want and need and unspoken pleas of never leave my side.

jake pulls away from the kiss, continuing to push into you with slow movements, wanting to feel every inch of your walls with each drag of his cock, holding his impending orgasm back behind gritted teeth, “tell me what you need, baby, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

“just need you,” you plead, eyes watering from the overwhelming presence of jake bearing his body to you, his mind and soul on display as he shows you how much he needs you with each loving action. “just need you,” you repeat, mind slipping away as he continues his movements, hips never tiring as he chases what he knows you need. jake removes one arm from your neck to snake down to your core, rubbing between your folds to gather up your own wetness before rubbing against your clit in the pattern he knows you love.

“fuck– jakey–” you groan, burying your head into the crook of his neck as he stares down at where the two of you meet, mind never getting tired of the visual of you taking him all inside, his length sliding in and out with ease. jake begins to fuck into you faster, nearly rutting against you as he chases the orgasm he knows is brewing in your gut. “come on, my angel girl, make a mess on me,” his words in your ears as you pull away from his neck to look at him. you nearly cry seeing jake meet your gaze; his delicate brown eyes meeting your own, need swimming in his gaze, “fuck!–” you gasp, beginning to babble words that don’t register in your mind as your high washes over you. jake watches your eyes fluttering shut, finally allowing himself to cum with you, pushing as deep as he can. jake watches as your breathing returns to normal, glancing down at the white ring surrounding his length, some of your cum mixture escaping and spilling everywhere. “god, baby, look at you. my perfect angel.” he traces his thumb along your cheek, watching a smile overtake your lips, knowing you’re utterly spent after only two orgasms. the day’s festivities have taken a toll on you, and he can see the tiredness in your eyes as they watch him with adoration.

you smile, “you don’t even know how happy you make me.”

jake cleans both of you off diligently, promising to throw the bedding in the wash tomorrow, knowing the cum would stain if you left it any longer. “i love you,” he breathes out, watching your face for a reaction at his sudden admission. you nearly cry as the words reach your ears, an overwhelming sensation in your gut. “you do?” you whimper, eyesight feeling blurring from the tears accumulating along your lashline. “i do, baby.”

“i love you, too, jakey.” he wraps you in a hug, neither of you caring that you’re both still naked, just needing to feel his hands holding you close to him. your voice is shaky and quiet as he holds you impossibly close, “i love you so much, you don’t even know.”

jake pulls back, holding your shoulders and placing kisses all over your face, on any spot he can reach, “you don’t know how happy i am to hear that, angel. you’ve made my life so much better.”

“now you have a built in study partner for life,” you tease, smiling at his continued onslaught of gentle kisses across your cheeks and nose, on your eyelids and on the corner of your mouth. “for life, huh?” jake teases, watching as your cheeks burn red at the realization of what you’ve said.

“don’t worry, pretty. now that i have you, i’m never letting you go.”

[gamblersdoll]

im the anon that asked for the previous tiktok trend with katsuki.. (iloveditsomuch)

can you do the one where katsuki keeps copying your snaps, so you sent him a snap doing an arm flex and he copies it? or it could be the other way around, so he snaps a pic of him shirtless? i love your work sosososomuch

uh oh! double ask time!

snap!

your eyes pay attention to the notification on your phone, ‘geezer sent you a snap!’ and you snicker, probably him just sending another video of him working out.

but no, he actually just sent the same photo you sent, a picture of your eye. of course he saved yours to the chat, and you reciprocated his , too. but an idea pops into your tiny brain, sending him another snap of your lips.

snap!

you giggle when he sends you a snarled lip photo, trying his damnest to mean mug you.

you aim the camera to your chest, a little bit of your softly pressed breasts playing peak a boo with the camera. immediately, he opens it, saves it, and then radio silence for the next five minutes.

snap!

the message sends through on your phone, a reciprocated photo, but him saying ‘put them away, slut.’ captioned on it. you giggle, an idea somewhat popping into your head again.

you send a video of yourself with a string wrapped around your bicep, flexing the muscle until you couldnt and it only slightly stretched the string. you look pitiful, katsuki sending a laughing emoji in the chat bar.

‘you cant do it either, king explosion whore.’

snap!

and what do you know? he sends a video of himself with some string on his thicker bicep. he didnt need to flex then for it to be huge, but boy oh boy. he finally flexes his arm, the string popping and leaving a small mark that fades instantly.

‘gasps!’ you message him.

‘who the fuck gasps over text.’ he messages back, getting a ‘your girlfriend does :3.’

however, what he doesnt expect is you to snap him a photo of your nipples. he immediately turns his phone away, hoping no one saw his girls’ tits on his phone. he looks back though, eyeing the metal bars through what he knew were sensitive nipples. fuck— why now, stupid girl?

snap!

he sends you a photo of him, a snarl on his face and red ears. he was flustered, because he still had another five hours on the job. ‘are you trying to get fucked up?’ the caption says, his eyes in a glare.

‘maybe, dynamight. :)’ you send back, a photo revealing your happy trail and your underwear slightly showing your bikini line. he knows whats next, either you stop the show or you continue with it.

snap!

your hearts racing, but you open the message to see him sitting— probably on someones roof and the camera pointed to his legs.

however, someone— no, something was waving at you through his trousers, the caption labeled ‘not much time left.’

you bite your nail, pulling your panties off and snapping him a photo of your soft folds. you felt a little embarrassed, reviewing the image and realizing you probably havent shaved in maybe a couple weeks. but.. you knee katsuki wouldnt mind, somewhat being into it.

the next photo from you came with you deeply arched, flexing your glutes deep from within.

snap!

‘and i thought you had back problems.’ the caption labeled, now a video from katsuki. he was now secluded, hands pulling his cock out from the zipper and you can tell it was semi-hard. the way it was still soft and he could squeeze the base.

your core feels warm, watching how his large hands grip his cock and some pre starts to ooze.

you could play that game.

you send your own video, spreading yourself open and clenching on nothing, the ring of muscle pushing out creamy white. the only difference? it was two hours later when he sent his own video.

‘i hope you know shitty hair saw that.’ he sends you, his bitmoji sitting over the message.

‘oopsies’ you send back, but he immediately starts to type.

‘hope you’re your ready when i get home.’

[demonic0angel]

Assistant Jazz au!

Someone records a lovesick Red Hood just ranting about how women who can break him in half are stupidly sexy and posts it to social media. #RelatableRedHood is trending within the week.

(It got long bc I got excited 😭)

The first video goes like this: It starts off with a woman clad in tight leather and a black helmet single-handedly fighting against a group of five men. She fought like a beast, with weapons and guns and on the occasion, her legs as she kicked a man so hard that he had puked his guts out. At one point, she had picked up one by the neck and tossed him to the wall.

The phone camera, shaky and quiet, then turned to face the infamous Red Hood's side profile. He didn't seem to notice that he was being recorded. He had his hand on his helmet-covered chin as he then said, "Do you think if I ask, she'll kill me with her thighs?"

That was when the video cut off. It was posted at 1:32 AM in the morning by an anonymous account with only one tag #RelatableRedHood.

It went stupidly viral. After that, there were more and more videos with the same tag, taken in more and more ridiculous ways to avoid the Red Hood noticing. Gothamites, particular ones from Crime Alley, were all having a great time watching their resident crime lord vigilante make a fool of himself in front of his hot assistant, who hadn't shown any reaction to the recent fame she gained as the woman who owned the legs that could make Red Hood beg for death.

The #RelatableRedHood videos always featured the same thing. Wolf would go about her business and do absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, or Wolf would complete an impossibly awesome feat with her intelligence or skills in weaponry and fighting, and Red Hood would then absolutely lose his mind afterwards.

Viewers both agreed to his thoughts and laughed themselves silly as they watched the infamous crime lord show just how head over heels in love he was with his assistant. Reaction images and memes went viral as the Red Hood simped over his assistant.

Video after video popped up and they were all clearly taken by goons within the Red Hood's gang due to sheer proximity and brilliant timing. Although videos came out somewhat rarely, probably due to Red Hood's perceptiveness, Gothamites gobbled up each one eagerly.

It all reached to a peak when a livestream link from the Official Robins account was posted at midnight.

In it, the Red Hood could be seen ranting and raving to himself in his office, smacking his helmet-covered forehead. An invisible camera captured it all. "Dammit!! Where are these videos coming from?! Who the fuck keeps making them?!"

He was presumably on call because after a moment, he answered an inaudible voice with a shout, "Like hell I do! Of course take it down! Why the hell would I want Wolf to see them?! She doesn't even know my feelings for her!"

Another pause. And then, "I'm not going to confess!! Why would she even like me anyways?!"

Viewers felt sympathetic for their favorite crime lord, but curiously, the livestream did not end as Red Hood continued to pace and mutter to himself angrily.

Their questions were answered as the door to the room opened and Red Hood hurriedly sat down in his seat, looking up at the door. The camera then captured the sight of Wolf striding into the room. She held papers in one hand and a coffee cup in the other.

Red Hood, silent and tense, clicked on a button, presumably disconnecting the call and then reached for the things she was holding. Wolf avoided his hands, placing the items on the table before she detached part of her helmet and placing it next to the papers.

Both the viewers and Red Hood were confused. More images of Red Hood's bewildered posture on the livestream appeared on the internet with #RelatableRedHood, but people were still focused on Wolf's strange actions.

The camera did not reveal any part of Wolf's face as she left the disconnected piece of metal on the side . She went around Red Hood's desk and sat on his lap confidently as the Red Hood froze like a deer in headlights. She took off his helmet without any resistance, tossed it to the floor, and then grabbed him by the lapels to kiss him senseless.

Cheers and celebrations erupted all over Gotham City as if they had suddenly won the lottery.

Unbeknownst to the Gothamites who were nothing but civilian viewers obsessing over Red Hood and Wolf's romance, Red Robin and Oracle were celebrating in the Watchtower with the rest of the Batfamily, who were all cheering loudly as they closed the livestream and then celebrated for successfully bringing together their brother and his crush.

Mission: Fairytale Ending was a success!

[the-odd-shu]

Sky regrets trying to play wingman

A continuation of lab shenanigans.

Masterlist

Next part

Characters: Viktor, Jayce, Reader, Sky

(Pre-Jayce/Viktor/Reader) (POLYCULEEEE!)

Summary: A sketchbook goes missing, Viktor and Jayce feel soft about it and Sky is fighting for her life.

Note; this takes place during season 1, and the reader is gender neutral with they/them pronouns.

Lab Illustrator!Reader has a secret A5 sketchbook they don't use for assignments. It's a small thing, that they keep tucked beneath all of their other paperwork during the day, and take home with them every night.

It is as non-descript as sketchbooks come, with a plain, black cover and pages brimming with hundreds of sketches and stuck in sheets of paper.

But what makes it different from their professional sketchbook, you ask? And why does it need to be a secret?

Well, because it is a notebook solely dedicated to drawings and doodles of their co-workers. And neither of them know that Reader has been drawing them.

There are hundreds of stolen moments stuffed between these pages. Late night coffee breaks, where the pencil lines are thick and dark to accentuate the dimness of the lab against the stark light leaking out of the kitchenette, where backs are turned and coffee mugs steam, whilst eyes fall to half-mast from the sheer weight of the late hour.

There are a dozen or so slower, more carefully done doodles of Jayce sprawled out across the lab couch in various positions. Several cane studies, because Viktor had a habit of leaving it in more and more odd places when he has had a breakthrough, and sheer determination and spite keep him standing unaided before the whiteboard.

There are pages dedicated to Viktor reading. And pages brimming with Jayce's broad shoulders and winning smile.

There is a double page spread of Viktor stood before the chalkboard, cane in one hand, his other tucked under his chin with a piece of chalk tucked between two of his fingers, his lips pursed in thought as he tried to find a solution to the problem before him. The lines of this sketch are soft and gentle, almost dreamlike, as the image was teased out of the page.

The pages directly after it show a heavy handed pen drawing of Jayce bent over his desk, goggles over his eyes, his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he welds pieces of metal together. A single, loose curl of hair having broken free of its slicked back appearance, and is now sprawled cutely down his forehead.

And that's only the beginning.

Neither of them know that Reader draws them. As far as they know, Reader can't even draw people. And Reader wants to keep it that way. Because if EITHER of them found the sketchbook, they just KNOW they would not let them live it down. Jayce would be embarrassed, no doubt asking stupid questions like, 'is my nose really like that from that angle' or 'why didn't you tell me I had soot on my cheek', which, how dare he, you'd spent hours learning how to draw him and picking out imperfections was just an insult to your skills. Whilst Viktor would make fun of your subject choices, and then make it one hundred times harder to sketch him without him getting suspicious and catching on and deliberately moving around MORE to make it seventeen times more difficult.

Out of everyone in the lab, Sky was the only other person remotely artistically inclined. She'd shown an interest in your work one afternoon, and let slip that she liked to draw in her spare time. And although she insisted her work was nothing like your professional illustrations, they were good! And you told her as such.

Unofficially, the pair of you had begun taking your lunches outside in the academy gardens together to chat and draw. She did not look it, but Sky was a mean gossip, and seemed to know everything that was going on in the science department. Such as who in the academy was currently trying to court who, or the latest experiment that blew up (literally) in a freshman's face, or that Councillor Medarda herself dabbled in painting.

The last one certainly caught your attention more than the drama on campus, which of course Sky was more than happy to provide more details for. Apparently, the Councillor's paintings were bold and striking. Depicting scenes from her childhood lands, and figures dressed in traditional Noxian-style garbs.

"Gorgeous, simply gorgeous." Sky said, tone bordering on wistful. "And large too. Councillor Medarda works on such a large scale, that some of her pieces literally command your attention the moment you step into the room. I'm sure you can talk Jayce into getting you a glimpse of some of her works. He and the Councillor have been growing close lately."

You ignored the suggestive hint to her voice, in favour of humming noncommittally and finishing up your lastest sketch of Sky perched on the wall beside you, waving her sandwich around as she talked animatedly. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn't notice she was watching, when you flipped back towards the front of your sketchbook, only for her to choke on her next bite.

“Wait!" She blurted out between sharp coughing. "Is that Viktor!?” And then suddenly your sketchbook was no longer on your lap and the apprentice of the man you were always drawing was flipping through the pages. The pages that HEAVILY featured Viktor's face.

Your cheeks burned, and lunged for the sketchbook out of sheer panic, as Sky began discovering just how MANY sketches of Viktor you've been hoarding and that he's not the ONLY ONE you've been drawing.

"Jayce too I see." She mused, more to herself than you. And then she snorted. "Why are there so many?”

“Because I get bored sometimes, and they're always just there!" You defend yourself guiltily. "It's good anatomy practice.”

Which wasn't technically a lie. The lines never came as easily as they did when you’re sketching your co-workers. So much so, that now, it had almost become instinct to know when your pencil had drawn a line wrong, even before you glanced back to the reference themselves to check. The pair of them were just so effortlessly beautiful in their own ways. It would a a crime for you <i>not</i> to draw them, and focus solely on the things you're SUPPOSED to be illustrating instead.

Sky hummed along, having paused on a page with a rapid, barely recognisable pen sketch of Jayce ducking away with a cackling laugh as a furious Viktor swung his cane at his head. Her fingers idly slid down the sketchy lines, a fondness to her expression.

"Have you shown them these?" Sky asked, "they're really good. All loose and fun. I can practically hear Jayce laughing in this one with how you captured his expression."

“Of course not!" You were quick to deny as your cheeks heated. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to show someone you’ve drawn them? Jayce will pretend to be all impressed but subconsciously begin to pick out all the things I got wrong. Like the shape of his ears. And Viktor will tell me it's 'lovely' without looking up from his textbook."

You shuddered at the very thought, already seeing Viktor's disinterested frown and Jayce's tight grimace in your mind's eye.

Sky frowned, her eyes jumping between your down turned expression and the sketchbook in her hands. “I dunno about that."

“Can I have it back now?” She shook her head and went back to flipping through the pages, the other half of her sandwich forgotten in her lap. “You know, I think Viktor would be flattered if he knew you paid so much attention to him. And Jayce would probably try to steal a couple of these and frame them for his desk.” You scoffed.

Sky's frown deepened. "Why are you having such a hard time believing they might like these?"

“Because in the end it doesn’t matter how they'd react,” you decided sharply, “because they're not going to find out. Are they, Sky?”

“You’ve even drawn Viktor's canes!”

“Sky, focus!” “I am focused- IS THAT A JAYCE HAND STUDY-?!”

"OKAY ENOUGH OF THAT FROM YOU!" You tackled her, and she went down screeching, drawing the attention of several passing students as the pair of you fell cleaningly off of the wall and landed in the flowerbeds below.

Sky did not keep her promise.

After a week or two of waiting to give the impression she'd forgotten about the whole ordeal, she sprung into action.

It was obvious now that she knew just how much Reader paid attention to their co-workers. It seemed like they were constantly sketching the boys throughout the day, a private, fond smile on their stupidly love-struck expression, as their pencil flew across the page, documenting coffee breaks and break throughs, and verbal spats. Now Sky has noticed that they did it, she couldn't stop seeing it, and it is driving her crazy. All three of them are so oblivious, and watching her superiors pine for one another whilst doing nothing to move things forward, was NOT the working environment she'd been hoping for during this internship.

So she took matters into her own hands.

When the hour was late, and the lights were dim, Jayce passed out at his desk for a quick nap, Viktor's attention on his textbooks at the chalkboard, and Reader in the kitchen cracking open a can of energy, Sky sidled over to the latter's desk. Her eyes immediately clocked the little, black sketchbook, easily overlooked amongst the other papers and opened notebooks with half complete drawings scrawled all over the place. It was a testament to how much they trusted each other in the lab, that no one questioned why she was lingering so close to a desk that was not her own.

It almost made it too easy for her to simply pluck the sketchbook out of the pile, add it to her pile of library books already balanced in one hand, all before loudly calling "good night" to the room and leaving.

Sky planned to be the first person in the next morning to plant the sketchbook, but the lab doors were unlocked when she turned up, and all three of her superiors were already in the room, looking in various states of exhaustion. Did they even go home last night?

Not to mention, half of the lab looked like a hoard of dogs had come tearing through. Come to think of it, Reader's desk was especially messy, with papers strewn everywhere and the drawers hanging on just barely- oh fuck! They had already noticed, hadn't they?

"Ah Sky, good morning." Viktor acknowledged her from where he was calmly sorting through a stack of books. Picking one up, and shaking it out before placing it onto a second stack and picking up the next. "Right on time." "Good morning," Sky greeted calmly, "what's going on here?" She motioned to the war zone that was the lab. To Jayce balanced precariously on a chair, checking a high book shelf, and the frantic shuffling sounds of Reader under their desk. They were out of view, but somehow, Sky could just envision the frenzy in their expression from the sound of their searching alone.

"Ah, well, Y/n appears to have misplaced a rather important sketchbook."

There was a yelp as a skull collided with the underside of a desk, before Reader's head popped up over the edge. "Sky! I can't find it!"

"Oh no." Sky replied, trying to ignore the burning weight of the 'it' in question, currently hiding in her backpack. "Where did you see it last?"

"They insisted it was on their desk." Jayce interjected, hopping down from his chair with a shake of his head.

"But I'm assuming it's grown legs," Sky joked, "judging by that picked over, barely standing, mess of a desk."

"This isn't funny Sky."

"No, you're right." She put down her backpack and began to help in the search. After all, not doing so would immediately out her as guilty, and she'd already come this far, why stop now. "Come on, it can't have gone far."

Of course, Viktor discovered it amongst his books and papers a couple of days later.

It was during one of those rare hours in the lab when he was alone. The hour was late, but the curtains were not yet drawn despite the darkening sky.

He frowned when his fingers brushed the unfamiliar notebook, tucked behind a stack of textbooks and scrunched up balls of notes. Pulling it out of its hiding place, his brows furrowed as his eyes tracked the state it was in. How the edges of the hardback covers were creased from numerous journeys in bags, whilst pencils marks and scuffs from countless hours of being opened and used, marred the covers.

At first, he assumed it was one of Jayce’s notebook. The material was expensive enough. Definitely of high quality. The paper itself was thick when he rubbed his finger along a page. But when he opened it, he quickly realised the pages are not lined, and were once blank before they had been filled in with hundreds of drawings.

The first few pages were illustrations of everything under the sun. Still life drawings. Animals. People. Silhouettes. Isolated body parts with detailed annotations encircling them, such as the names of muscles and tiny corrective comments like ‘fingers too long’ or ‘that muscle doesn’t stretch that far’. 

Then he turned a page, and was met with himself. And then Jayce. And then more and more sketches of himself and Jayce. Sometimes together and interacting. Sometimes just existing.

The drawings were skilfully done, as all of Reader's illustrations tended to be. A little rough in the beginning, from rushed pen strokes. But then the artist seemed to understand something. A break through of sorts, and he recognised himself more and more. The sketches held his likeness. From the way he stood, to the slouch of him sitting at his desk, to the way his hand held something as simple as a stick of chalk.

They were always sketches from behind or a side profile. Never head on. And any that did depict him as facing the artist, were drawn when his attention was elsewhere; focused down at a textbook, or fixing something on the table. 

It was flattering really. He looked good in the drawings. Confident, with an authoritative aura. Seemingly engrossed in every task he sat down to complete.

And Jayce, Jayce looks good in his drawings too. His sunny personality shining through in drawings where he was animatedly talking or debating with sketched Viktor. There seems to be a whole double page spread trying to figure out the shape of his slicked back hair, and then even more drawings of the gel softening throughout the day, causing strands to fall down around his ears and frame his eyes.

But what really catches Viktor's attention was the way the artist had caught their interactions. The way they have depicted Jayce's softened eyes when looking at Viktor when his attention was elsewhere. The way they caught Viktor's private little smile when Jayce got lost in a muttering spell and stopped including Viktor in the debate. It left him feeling a little raw in truth, like this person had seen something no one else had taken the time to notice before.

No wonder Reader had been so adamant about finding this sketchbook. This must have been hours upon hours of careful work.

Carefully, Viktor closed the sketchbook and sat back in his chair. It felt heavy in his hands, and he almost didn't want to put it down.

The door to the lab swung open then, and Jayce called out a greeting.

"What you got there V?"

And of course, Viktor was contractually obligated to show him. It would simply be criminal if he didn't show his partner just how well their resident illustrator managed to capture his winning smile. A much more accurate depiction of it, compared to the 'man of progress' merchandise the academy sold nowadays.

The sketchbook continued to go unfound.

Reader was growing more and more distraught.

The guilt gnawed at Sky and she confessed.

All hell broke loose.

An hour later, Skye came SPRINTING into the lab, the double doors CRASHING into the walls in her haste to get into the room.

Both Viktor and Jayce jumped in their seats in the kitchenette. Viktor barely managing to keep from spilling his sweetmilk everywhere. And Jayce almost THREW the little black sketchbook across the room, where he had been admiring its pages.

“Woah there, where’s the fire?” Jayce tried to joke, but Sky looked GENUINELY scared. 

“Sorry! Sorry! I left something in here, and the owner is NOT happy with me.” Sky scrambled to explain, as she charged towards Viktor’s desk and began pulling apart stacks of paperwork. Sweat beading on her brow.

“Hey, calm down. What is it? Where did you see it last?” “It was a sketchbook. Um, uh, black, hard cover, it was practically bulging with how many pages it had stuck in it.” Sky explained, "I could've sworn I left it on Viktor's desk." Viktor’s brows jump up in realisation. His eyes dart over to the sketchbook in Jayce's hands, before leaping up to meet the man's wide, knowing eyes.

“I take it that Y/n found out you took it then.” Viktor spoke up. Sky winced. “I may have let it slip-” her voice began to backpedal, before the distant stomp of approaching footsteps made her pale. The gait the recognisable, the tempo just a touch faster than its normal pace. “DON’T THINK HIDING BEHIND VIKTOR OR JAYCE WILL SAVE YOU NOW!” A booming voice hollered from down the hallway. 

Sky became frantic again. She redoubled her efforts.

Jayce very slowly lowered the sketchbook down to his lap, where the table would conceal it from view if anyone peered into the kitchenette. And Viktor just sighed as he got comfortable.

Heavy footsteps approached the laboratory door, which was then promptly kicked open, so fast that the door smacked into the opposite wall for the second time today. Y/n, brandishing a broom of all things, visibly seethed in the doorway. 

“Do you know how much <i>work</i> has gone into that sketchbook?” They demanded, more furious than Viktor had ever seen them before. “How many hours I’ve spent amongst those pages.” Sky looks appropriately guilty. “I know! And I’m so sorry I lost it, I really thought I was doing you a favour!”

Reader’s lip curls up into a furious snarl, eyes narrowing. “And I thought I told you to leave it alone!” They snarled.

“But they’re just so good. I seriously don’t think you should be hiding your talent. What if the right person managed to find it, like Councillor Medarda, imagine the connections-” “And how, pray tell, is Councillor Medarda, supposed to come across my sketchbook in the laboratory of all places.” Skye’s voice lowers. “Well, she does stop by to see Jayce often enough.”

Reader sighed heavily. "Side-stepping that poor excuse, because we both know you were just trying to embarrass me-" "I was not! They're good drawings!"

“Where is it Skye? For the final time.”

They stepped menacingly into the room then, broom clutched tightly in both hands, only to pause when a single sheet of paper slipped out of their pocket and fluttered to the ground. The action clearly held significance, because Sky winced.

Meanwhile, Reader took a deep, steadying breath, before slowly, calmly leaning down to pluck the paper off of the floor. It was only for a second, but Viktor could have sworn he saw yet ANOTHER sketch of him and Jayce, which HOW? They'd been with the pair of them in the lab ALL DAY!

“Now look at me, I’m shedding paper left and right without my sketchbook to keep all my thoughts ORGANISED!” “I’m sorry! I’ll buy you a new one.”

A groan. “Skye, that is NOT the point-!”

“Okay, okay! Time out! Let us all take a breath.” Viktor interjected to which both apprentice and Illustrator startled. 

Reader visibly seethed in place, whilst Sky just winced and ducked her head.

It was the former who spoke up first. “Sorry for the interruption.” They said sharply, eyes cutting over to Viktor and Jayce. To which Viktor just inclined his head, whilst Jayce very poorly concealed his guilty wince. Reader was too preoccupied with Sky however to notice as they turned back to her. “May we continue this debate outside? Preferably away from the workshops?” Skye seemed to shrink in on herself more. Eyes darting over to Viktor, then jumping up to Jayce. 

“Sky!”

“Only if you promise to stop yelling.” She demanded. 

Reader breathed out forcefully through their nostrils. Expression thinning out, shoulders easing, although the tightness to their jaw remained stubbornly present. “Fine.”

"Leave the broom!" Viktor called after them, to which Reader audibly groaned but let the broom in the lab before stepping out into the hall with Sky. The door clicked shut behind them. 

Jayce and Viktor shared a look and held their breaths. Waiting. Listening. The conversation that inevitably started up once the door closes was fast paced, but in the promised quieter tone. 

"I'm just going to-" Jayce began to say before motioning to the desks out in the main lab. Viktor shrugged, and allowed his partner to stand, sketchbook in hand, only for both of them to freeze when a loose slip of paper fell out.

"Oh no." Jayce said aloud as Viktor quickly pinned the sheet to the floor with the toe of his shoe, before it could drift away. "This is going to be adorable, isn't it?"

Viktor did not reply, as he stooping to pick it up. He turned it over, and he and Jayce collectively sighed as they discovered yet another sketch of the pair of them.

They're stood in front of the chalkboard, which seemed to be Reader's favourite place to draw them without being discovered. And it was clear from the way the pair were facing each other that they were deep in one of their debates. But what really caught the pair's attention, was the way that their drawn selves were looking at one another.

Viktor's with a small, knowing smile and a visible twinkle in his eye - which should have been an impossible thing to capture with merely a pencil. And Jayce's who was staring down at Viktor with an intensity in his eye and a playful lift of his eyebrows that spoke of challenge. They looked happy together. Feeding off one another's energy.

And it was startling that an outside perspective had managed to capture such a moment without either of them noticing.

"We don't get that absorbed in our debates, do we?" Jayce asked tightly, a soft look in his eye now as he gazed down at the sketch with reverence.

Viktor did not bother to deny it, because they both knew that they did. Here was a sketchbook stuffed with the evidence right before them.

Jayce tucked the sketch back between the pages, his expression complicated and yet oh so fond for someone who was no longer in the room with them.

Jayce and Viktor put the sketchbook back on Reader's desk, who later comes back in, visibly more subdued, and Sky nowhere in sight.

Viktor cracks a joke about them having stuffed her in a supply closet somewhere.

To which they reassure him that, "no, she had a meeting," and he would still have an apprentice turning up to work tomorrow.

Jayce looks up from his work, as does Viktor, when they make a beeline for their desk. In time to watch Reader stiffen when they see the little, black sketchbook placed neatly on top of their larger, official lab sketchbook. Then they lunge forward, snatching it up and flipping through the pages, shoulders loosening when all seems to be in order.

"You found it!"

"Viktor found it." Jauce interjected.

To which Viktor just preens and makes another joke about Sky thinking twice about getting between Reader and their belongings. He also throws in a compliment on the penmanship, just to see how Reader reacts.

To both of their surprises, Reader locks up at the compliment. “Please tell me you didn’t look though it.”

“I liked them." He said truthfully, "you certainly captured my likeness.” They groan and drop eye contact. 

“Please don’t joke about it.” They plead, “it was just anatomy practice. But I completely understand if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“Uncomfortable?" Viktor parrots back, shooting Jayce a look. "Why would it make us uncomfortable?" "You might feel watched?" Reader offers.

Jayce shrugs. Viktor waves off their concern.

Jayce, "can we put some up on the pin board?" "No. None of these are remotely good enough to be hung up on display!" Reader is quick to deny.

By the end of the day, there are three new papers pinned to the pin board above Jayce's desk. One drawn by each of them in the lab. A chicken scratch drawing of Jayce, courtesy of Viktor. A carefully, but wonkily drawn Reader, courtesy of Jayce. And a recognisable and remarkably good drawing of Viktor done by Reader.

(Yes, they had a drawing competition and sat in a circle around someone's desk, simultaneously posing for and drawing each other. The boys had to do some major convincing so that Reader didn't assume they were being made fun of. And they all ended up having a great time).

Next part

[nanaslutt]

panty theif revamped

ʚ pairing: perv!geto x reader

ʚ incl: fem reader, established relationship, panty theif geto, nudes, masturbation, sexual tension, dirty talk, public teasing, car shenanigans, oral (m!r), hand jobs

ANYONE UNDER 18 AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Gonna go to the bathroom, go ahead and order for me if the waiter comes while I'm gone." Geto smiled before pushing himself out of the booth in the corner of the establishment the two of you were tucked away in. The two of your schedule finally synced up and you could actually go on a proper date for once.

You couldn't help but watch Geto as he made his way to the restroom, more specifically how good his ass looked today, complimented by his tiny waist. You always did love it when he wore tucked-in dress shirts and slacks. His hair was half up, half down per usual as it swayed back and forth with his stride, caressing the cloth of his shirt on his back.

You were shocked out of your trance when the waiter appeared a few seconds later, ready to take you and your boyfriend's order. The kind man collected your menus and left quickly, making his way back to the kitchen to relay your orders to the chef. You glanced around the dim establishment, distracting yourself with the intricate paintings on the walls, waiting for Geto to come back to the table.

Your phone buzzed in your small bag that rested in the corner of the booth against the wall. Normally, you wouldn't check your phone since you were on a date, but you could only stare at the paintings and pretend to be interested for so long. As you pulled out your phone and looked at the small screen, you were shocked to see a hidden message from Geto himself, a picture.

Just when you went to unlock your phone, Geto gripped the side of the table and slid back into the booth, looking as casual as ever. "Sorry to keep you waiting, did the waiter take our orders already?" Geto was acting like he didn't just send you a message. Your curiosity got the better of you as you held your phone out to him and showed him the message he just sent you, still locked, sitting on your preview screen. 

"Why did you just text me?" you asked, confusion laced all over your tone. Geto smiled and rested his head on his palm before making an expression of feigned ignorance and confusion, a poor one at that. "I don't know, maybe you should look," Geto suggested, his voice revealing hidden mischief. You slowly turned your phone back towards yourself while keeping your eyes on Geto, squinting at him briefly, trying to guess what he was up to.

You looked behind you to make sure no one could see your phone just in case it was something inappropriate. Turning down the brightness, you unlocked your phone and clicked on Geto's chat, only to be met with the most shocking image you'd ever received from him. Quickly, you turned off your phone and flipped its screen down before your eyes shot up to his, wide, exasperated expression saying your words for you.

"What was it?" Geto asked, smiling at you with his eyes closed. Just before you were about to speak, the clanging of metal hit your ears, changing your attention. "Oh no, I dropped my utensils. Would you mind getting them for me, baby? You're smaller, you can fit under the table more easily." Geto asked, explaining his reasoning for asking you. You didn't trust him in the slightest, already knowing from that picture what he was up to. 

Shaking your head and sighing, you bent your body to the side and leaned your head under the table, reaching for the utensils that rested by his feet. Geto gently kicked his foot against yours, making your eyes drag upwards to where he wanted you to pay attention to the most. Your jaw fell open in disbelief when you were met with Geto's big fingers toying with fragile straps of frilly fabric under his pants that rested on his hips. 

A bit of his skin and stomach peeked out for your eyes and your eyes only, as he untucked a corner of his shirt for you to see better. Forgetting all about the dropped utensils, you quickly came back up from under the table, just nearly missing hitting your head on the corner of it. Geto smiled, his arm movement being blocked by the table, looking like he was tucking his shirt back in his pants. 

"You- my- why are you-" You struggled to find your words, your heart felt like it was going to break through your ribs and beat out of your chest. "Hm?" Geto hummed, licking his lips and rolling his head, looking like he was trying to hold back. You maintained eye contact with him, letting your words sort out in your head before you spoke. "Suguru, why are you..." You took a moment to look around the room, making sure no one was in earshot to hear what you were about to say.

"Why are you wearing my panties?" The dimples in Geto's cheek deepened as did his mischievous smile as the man leaned back against the booth cushion and crossed his arms over his chest. "They're so pretty on you, wanted to see how they would look on me," Geto said, carefully watching your reaction. 

The picture he had sent you in the bathroom was of him standing in the mirror, handsome face looking downwards at the phone as he held it in the center of his chest. His pants were pulled down just under his balls, exposing his semi-hard cock barely fitting in a pair of your tight, lacy black panties. His balls were threatening to fall out of the fabric's constraints at any moment, and his dick? Well, it wasn't faring any better. 

Half of his cock was poking out of the panties, his flushed tip resting against the skin of his pelvis, staining upwards thanks to the fabric. He looked so sexy, it was a shame you didn't get to look at the picture longer, but you would absolutely be keeping that photo somewhere safe to oggle later. "Suguru..." You whispered, voice full of need. You couldn't even be annoyed. Surprised? Sure. But he looked too sexy to be frustrated with.

And now that you knew what he was hiding all night, the thought of him walking around all day in your panties without you knowing sent a heat rippling through your body and straight between your thighs. Suguru could see right through you, could see how his little act was turning you on the longer you thought about it. The man across from you suddenly stood up and walked around the booth to your side, squeezing in without a word.

You tried to make room for him by pressing yourself into the corner of the booth, your bag getting squished against your thigh. "Suguru whatever you're trying to do, drop it. We can't do this here." You said as sternly as you could muster, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him. "I'm not doing anything." He replied. Just as he placed his hand on your knee, the server walked up to the table with your food, interrupting whatever it was you two were doing.

The man looked oblivious enough as he sat your food down, wishing you a good meal. You turned your head to look at the man next to you, ignoring your food completely. "Suguru take me home." You almost whispered, staring into his eyes. Geto smiled, rubbing his hand along your knee, the heat from his skin seeping through your skin. "Why?" He asked, feigning ignorance as he began moving his hand higher and higher up your thigh, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

You looked down at his hand and gripped his wrist with both of yours before you looked back up at him, a begging expression on your face. His fingers were only inches from touching you where you desperately needed him, but you knew you had to be the one to put your hand down and not let Suguru do something like this here, no matter how bad your body was aching for it. "You really wanna leave?" Suguru asked, tilting his head at you, his hand still gripping your thigh as he emphasized his words.

You nodded at him, the words failing to find your lips. Suguru nodded and looked away before he retracted his hand from your thigh and waved down the waitor. "I'm sorry to bother you, my girlfriend isn't feeling well. Is it alright if we get this packaged to go?" Geto asked respectfully, his voice as sweet as ever, giving no hint as to what he was actually feeling at the moment. 

The young man made haste packing your food. Maybe three minutes had passed before he returned to the table with your food packaged with a lovely presentation. You made sure Geto tipped him well for his effort before you slid out of the booth, walking quickly in front of Geto, and leading him to the exit. "What's got you feeling so rushed, huh?" He asked cockily, reaching out from behind you and grabbing your hand, slowing you down as he walked at a snail's pace.

You pressed your lips together in frustration, only turning your head to look at him annoyed for a moment before you whipped your head forward and dragged your much larger boyfriend behind you. 

Geto gripped your hips when you dragged him to your side of the car, pressing himself against you as he stood behind you. You gripped the containers of food tightly in your hands, your eyes falling shut as Geto's body heat enveloped your body. "Back up, let me get the door for you." You wanted to scream. You were so glad it was dark out and there was no one currently in the parking lot where Geto was doing this. 

You swallowed hard before pushing yourself back against him. At first, Geto made no efforts to back up and allow you enough space to open the door, he just let you press your ass back into his obviously hard cock, tenting in his dress slacks. He kept you against him without moving for only a second longer than necessary before he backed up and reached in front of you, opening the passenger door for you. 

You turned around and faced the man, his other hand that was on your waist sliding into his pocket as his eyes met yours. He watched you drag your eyes down his body to stare at the bulge in his pants shamelessly, your eyes staying there for a minute before you looked back up at him, obvious arousal written on your face. "Pervert." He joked, smiling at you as he watched you slide into the car, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Geto walked like he had nowhere else to be around the car as he made his way to the driver's side, giving you plenty of time to wallow in your own arousal while you sat in the silent car. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when the driver's door popped open. You were about to be alone with him again like you craved ever since he sent you that filthy picture in the restroom. 

Geto was silent as he slid into the car and closed the door behind him. He plugged his phone into the aux like normal and started the car, the cool air immediately blasting you in the face which he quickly turned down to a softer setting. Although you couldn't say you didn't appreciate the quick burst of air cooling you down. You gripped the seatbelt over your thighs tightly, staring at your own hands, the veins popping out from under your skin.

Your head jerked quickly over to Geto's side of the car when you heard the familiar clinking of his belt, followed by the sound of the leather sliding out from the belt loops in his pants. "What are you doing?" You asked softly, afraid to raise your voice higher than a whisper. The air around you was quickly heating up, your body too. Geto stayed silent, just a sinister smile on his face as he threw the belt into the back seat and began undoing his belt.

Your eyes were glued to the scene in front of you, you didn't dare take your eyes off his large hands. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent the moan that wanted to escape from between them when Geto lifted his ass off the seat and pulled his pants down to his mid-thighs, exposing his now fully hard cock barely covered by the tiny, flimsy piece of fabric hugging his hips so tightly. Suguru bunched up his shirt in his hands, allowing you to see a little of the black tuft of hair that rested above the base of his cock, letting you see everything unobstructed.

Suguru could feel his cheeks burning under your gaze. His cock twitched and dripped pre-cum from his sensitive tip, wetting his skin. He kept his lidded eyes on yours, watching you watch him. He saw the way your hands gripped the seatbelt tighter as you resisted the urge to pounce on him right then and there. "Do you like it?" Suguru asked, wiggling his hips at you.

You brought one of your hands to your mouth and covered it tightly, your eyebrows furrowing as you took in the sight of his pretty cock. "Fuck... Suguru." You whined behind your hand, pressing your thighs together. You had never thought about something like this before. Suguru wearing your panties? Why would you? But you were starting to think you should have a more creative imagination because this was turning you on more than you thought it would. 

Suguru smiled and huffed a laugh through his nose before he reached down with his hand that wasn't holding up his shirt and teased his fingers around the head of his cock. His tip twitched at the stimulation of him rubbing his fingers around it, rubbing his precum all over it. "Tell me what you're thinking," Suguru asked, his smile starting to fade the more his arousal grew, his expression turning more like yours, pure lustful.

You stayed silent, only the loud sounds of your breathing echoing inside the car. "Talk to me baby, did this for you," Geto said, wrapping his hand around the part of his cock that was sticking out of the panties. His balls were barely contained against the thin fabric, they looked ready to fall out at any moment, so strained against it. You were becoming hypnotized watching Geto stroke his cock, watching his chest rise and fall more frequently as he got off on being watched by you.

Your resolve snapped when Geto squeezed his tip firmly on the upstroke and a choked moan was forced from his throat. You unbuckled your seat belt and leaned over the center console in one swift movement, your body resting against it as you rested your hand on Geto's thighs, keeping yourself stable. Geto leaned back when he saw you coming over, almost on instinct, even though neither of you had fooled around in the car before.

You grabbed his hand that was wrapped around his cock with one of your own, forcing him to stroke himself downwards so the tip of his cock poked through the hole his fist was making. You wasted no time in sticking out your tongue and dragging it across his head, before taking his tip into your warm mouth. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head and his jaw dropped open in a moan as he felt your tongue swirl around his sensitive cockhead. 

"Oh shit..." He groaned, looking down at your head in his lap. You grabbed his wrist and forced him to let go of his dick. Geto obeyed and placed his hand on your lower back, rolling his head against the back of his seat. His other hand rested comfortably on top of your head, fighting to not shove you down on his length.

 His breathing had picked up considerably as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head down on him, only taking a couple of inches of him into your mouth at first, letting your saliva collect and pool in your mouth so it felt better for him, and made sucking his off easier for you.

You found his balls through the fabric of the panties blindly and grabbed ahold of them, noticing how strained and tight they felt in the fabric. "Oh fuck baby, f-fuck." Geto groaned, his abs clenching with his arousal as you rubbed his balls through the fabric while sucking him off hands-free. You took the top half of his cock into your hot mouth, leaving the base of his cock still snug behind the panties, it was a sight to see.

"I'll take this as you liked my surprise?" Geto laughed, the sound turning into a breathy moan. You did your best to hum your approval around him, the vibration from the noise you made going straight through his cock, making his fingers dig against your scalp. "Fuck, don't try to talk while it's in your mouth," Geto warned, feeling his balls throb at the vibration.

If your mouth wasn't stuffed full of cock, you would've smiled. Instead, you just doubled your efforts and bobbed your head faster, rolling your tongue all around the length of his cock, all the while still caressing his balls in your warm hand. Geto's hips had started to leave the seat as he thrust shallowly up into your mouth, making his cock hit the back of your throat.

"This feels so. fucking. good." Geto moaned wantonly through his teeth, his lips pursing around them as he spoke. "D-deeper, take it deeper baby, please." You moaned around him again, making him release his own sound of pleasure before you took him deeper into your throat, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to get used to it. The fabric of your panties was rubbing against your lips as you pushed it out of the way with your mouth the deeper you went down on him.

Suguru's groans had turned into gasps and higher-pitched moans at this point. His hand trembled against your head as his body registered all the pleasure you were giving him. You popped off his cock with a small 'ahh' sound, a bit of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock, which you quickly wiped away.

Your arm was weak, but you used all the strength you could muster to push the front half of your body up as you brought your face in front of Geto's. You licked your lips and smiled as you pressed your lips against his, swallowing up his groans as you continued rubbing his balls, his cock twitching from that stimulation alone. Geto pressed the back of your head against him harder, keeping your lips locked with his. 

You were almost too busy tangling your tongue with his to feel the constant, repetitive pounding of Geto's hand against your own that was caressing his sack. Cracking your eyes open, you looked down at his crotch and saw Geto jerking himself off furiously, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You were unable to resist staring at the thin black straps of the thong resting on his hips, he looked so fucking sexy it was making it hard to breathe.

"Hey, stop getting distracted," Geto whined breathlessly against your lips, noticing how you stopped kissing him back with the same urgency. You pulled away entirely, making him pout, as he continued stroking himself off while looking at you, his hand that was holding the back of your head caressing down between your shoulders. "I wanna look at you." You said, rubbing his thigh under your hand. 

"Take a fucking picture, I need you right now," Geto begged, the saliva and precum on his dick creating the lewdest squelching noise. You raised your eyebrows in surprise before you smiled and tilted your head at him. "You serious?" You asked, feeling another wave of warmth jolt through your body. "Yes, take a fucking picture and put your lips around my cock again. Gonna cum." Geto said urgently, nodding towards his phone under the dash.

You wasted no time in reaching over for it and sliding over the camera. You leaned back a bit to get Geto fully in the frame, smiling to yourself as you hid behind the camera. "Say cheese." You joked, Geto making no effort to stop what he was doing as the flash lit up his body. The second the photo was over, Geto griped your hand holding the phone, and forced it down into the cup holder. "I'm gonna cum." He said breathily, his hand sliding up your back to hold the nape of your neck again, forcing you back down to focus on his cock.

Geto had no idea what had happened, but the second you took a picture of him, his orgasm went from behind five minutes away, to thirty seconds away. Seemed like everyone was finding something about themselves tonight. Geto held the base of his cock for you, keeping his dick steady as you wrapped your lips around him again and replaced his hand. Geto gripped your hand that rested on his thigh, his fingers wrapping tightly under your palm.

"Oh fuck baby, I'm so fucking close." Geto cried, his thighs clenching and unclenching as he felt his orgasm approach. You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock as you let his hand control your pace as he curled his fingers into your hair and aided you in bobbing your head on him. "Take it baby take it, s-swallow it all." Geto babbled, his balls twitching under your hand.

"Oh fuck- fuck- fuck-" Geto's voice got higher and higher in pitch, his eyes squeezing firmly shut, his mouth opening in a wide O before his orgasm crashed over him. His body curled in on itself with each wave of his orgasm. "H-hah ahh-" Geto moaned as he felt hot ropes of him shoot out of his balls, immediately being greedily sucked down your throat. 

You continued moaning around him as you gripped his hand tighter for support, fighting the coughs and gags that wanted to spill from your throat as he forced his cock full inside your mouth, using your throat to drain his balls completely. You pulled off with a gasp, your hand coming to wipe away the mix of saliva and cum on your lips and cheeks.

Geto's cock had started to soften, and not even then did it fully fit in the panties he was wearing; your panties. You swallowed one last time and sat up, pressing kisses to his Adam's apple, up his chin, and finally finding his lips. Geto kissed your back lazily, his eyes still shut and head resting back against the car seat as he tried to come down from his high, his body limp and shaky. 

You smiled and left a small peck on his cheek before you reached down and grabbed his soft cock, feeling it twitch weakly in your hold as you tried to stuff it under the flimsy panties, to no avail of course. You zipped his pants back up, hiding his spent cock away, and tucked his shirt messily into his pants. He looked like he just got the soul sucked out of him.

"You okay?" You asked, sitting back in your seat and caressing his cheek. Geto nodded, his head falling in your direction as he looked at you, eyes lidded and face red. He leaned into your touch, letting your soft hand sooth him further, he looked ready for a nap. "That felt so fucking good, I love you so much." You giggled at his exhaustion and praise. 

"I love you too, do you need me to drive?" You asked, your hand falling from his face and resting on his thigh. "Yeah, let me be the passenger princess for once." He replied, nodding at you. "I'll take care of you baby." You smirked, laughing through your nose. Geto smiled before his face scrunched into a discomforted expression, his hips wiggling against the car seat.

You tilted your head at looked at his bottom half in question, "You okay Sugu?" You asked. Geto made a noise of discomfort as he answered before he grabbed at the fabric of his pants on his hips. "I've had a thong shoved up my ass all day. The pleasure made me forget it but now that I'm spent I can feel my ass throbbing." You did your best not to giggle too loud as you laughed behind your hand. "How do you wear these things all the time? They're sexy as hell but if it feels like this I don't know if it's worth it." Geto complained, wiggling against the seat some more.

"Well I'm pretty sure those are waaaay too small on you so... that might have something to do with it." You answered. Now that you thought about it, Geto was s bit more fidgety than usual today. You had chalked it up to him being uncomfortable in such a stiff suit he didn't wear often. Little did you know what the real culprit of his squirminess was. 

"I'll get you home asap so we can get those off of you, okay?" You giggled, rubbing his thigh in comfort. Geto made a noise of acknowledgment and gave up on wiggling around in his seat, knowing it was doing nothing for him except maybe making it worse. "But before we do I need to see how good your ass looks in this thong." You laughed, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

Geto laughed through his nose and made a move to open his door so the two of you could switch seats before he turned back to look at you. "You might cream your panties, but I'll let you look all you want." Something told you he was right and it was going to end in a round two. 

[misctf]

My Dad has been really on my case lately. He’s always wanted me to be more manly like him, and he’s never been good at hiding how disappointed he is that I’m so feminine. He says he’s sending me to a special camp to ‘Man Up’. I’m really nervous. What should I do?

Your dad stood at the entrance to Mu Alpha Nu Camp, a stern look on his face. Trying to do his best to contain his excitement. It had been a few days since he dropped you off here. Initially, when your dad told you he was sending you to one of these “Man Up” camps, you thought he was joking. But your old man had tricked you- promising to take you to a concert to celebrate the end of your first year in college. Foolishly, you believed him- thinking he was trying to start anew. But he had no feelings of guilt.  

Truth be told, you two never really got along. His interests and yours were polar opposite, even antagonistic. He couldn’t understand where your feminine hobbies came from and instead of trying to understand, he resisted them. Time at college- sissy liberal university as your father would say- only cemented these interests. No matter what he did, he was never able to mold you into the rugged, masculine specimen that he wanted in a son. And while his disappointment initially hurt, you came to realize he was the epitome of toxic masculinity- a true narcissist.

“Hey bro,” A jock greeted him, “Your son is done.” He chuckled dumbly.

Your father nodded, a smirk forming on his face. He would never really know what you went through over the past few days. He would only see the end result. But when he dropped you off, he did give the facility specifications. He checked off boxes, indicating what qualities he wanted in his son. He would never know how they would initially start easy. Daily gym sessions and lectures about masculinity. How you ignored them at first and resisted their brainwashing. But then it became more intense. They threw you in a chamber. Metallic hands gripping your weak arms. Others massaging your lean chest.

“Wait! Let me go!” You had cried out.

But they continued to manhandle you. Continued to massage your muscles with their ‘special lotion’. You had cried out as your muscles expanded rapidly, at first with firm muscle, and then followed closely by fat. Your new abs and pecs quickly covered by a layer of soft fat. You tried to use your new strength to break free, but even with your massive bis and tris, you were powerless. Only able to watch your metamorphosis in a mirror on the wall adjacent to you.

“No! What is that?” You groaned as you were injected with a serum.

Tears filled your eyes as your skin lost its youthful glow. Wrinkles formed and your skin weathered with age. The firm fat sagging ever so slightly. You looked to be in your late 40s, just like your dad. And before you could fully process this horrific realization, you were sprayed from head to toe with a foul smelling liquid. The burning, prickling sensation that followed caused you to squirm. And as you watched closely in the mirror, you could see your hair follicles come alive. Tufts of manly hair erupted from your chest and abdomen, coating you in manly fur. Even your clean-shaven face became blanketed in a manly beard. And your hair darkens considerably, interlaced with a few grays.

“Please... please stop...” You groan.

But you’d find no mercy. You were being molded exactly to your dad’s specifications. Before you could resist any further, the screen in front of you comes alive. Spirals interlaced by manly images fill your vision. Images of beer, trucks, guns, and working-out are forced into your brain. And as they enter, your prior interests start to fade. You envision a life working construction, just like your dad. Drinking beers at the bar. Picking up chicks. And this continues. For hours, days even. Your cock rock hard.

Your dad’s eyes widen when you approach him. Naturally, you were shirtless. Showing off your manly chest. A smirk plastered on your face. And your dad can’t help but feel as if he’s looking in a mirror. The stupid jock smiles.

“We’ve followed your specifications to a tee.” He says with a dopey grin.

And then it dawns on your dad. He wanted you to be more manly, just like him. Just like him. In his self-absorbed narcissism, he didn’t realize that his specifications led them to create a twin. Gone was his son. Instead, he had a twin brother. One that matched him in all ways- stench, masculinity, and size.

“What’s up, bro?” Your baritone voice matches your father’s brother’s, “You wanna grab some beers?”

Your twin brother nods, slowly accepting his new reality. And the two of you head out. Perhaps not what your father initially intended. But as you throw back beers down at the local bar and cheer for your favorite football team, he can’t help but appreciate the newfound camaraderie.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Caught at the last second with Clark Kent?

.⋆｡The Fall｡⋆.

Clark Kent x plus size reader

Faced with a choice between you and Lois, Clark has to decide who lives and who dies

Warnings: angst, fear of heights, literally a life and death situation guys, unrequited love (maybe), vivid imagery of drowning, kind of ambiguous but happy ending (you’ll see) WC: 1.1k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Isn’t this a predicament Superman? Your ex-lover and your best friend in such precarious situations, across the globe from each other. You’ll only have time to save one of them.” The LEDs of the monitors behind Luther seared into Clarks eyes but he refused to look away. Already his muscles were tensed, ready to dart away at any moment. “I wonder which one you will choose, I know which one I would.” 

Luther smirked, eyeing the monitor that clearly displayed your panicked face as you struggled against the chains wrapped tightly around your soft body. “She is quite the fighter, isn’t she?”

“Why are you doing this Luther?��� The man rolled his eyes, finally turning to look at Clark.

“Why wouldn’t I? You are a nuisance, self-righteous, and aggravatingly nosy. If I kill one of them, and I will, I think you’ll learn your lesson. So, here we are. Lois Lane, the only woman you have ever loved, suspended over a cliff somewhere in Europe,” Luther gestured to the image of Lois, her head raising as his voice repeated over the feed and Clark realised that they could both hear what was happening, “and your best friend. The woman who has never stopped supporting you, somewhere in the Pacific with an anchor attached to her, I’m sure you can imagine what her fate is.” The man had the audacity to laugh then, as your expression fell and you stopped struggling.

“You don’t have to do this Luther. Just let them go and I’ll spare you.” 

Lex hummed. “You know, you’re right. This is quite boring by my standards, let’s shake it up.” Suddenly, a ground of masked men surrounded you, briefly blocking the camera before there was a scuffle and the feed cut off. Before Clark could react, another camera turned on, showing the criss-crossing metal beams of a crane as cables in the background shifted in the high winds. “Give them a minute, would you? Not all of us can move so quickly.” 

“I’m going to rip you apart, molecule by molecule.” Red creeped into Clark’s vision, slowly casting a haze of rage over everything.

“Now, if you kill me, you won’t get a hint as to where your women are. So be a good boy and watch. Ah, there she is.” Two men had you by your arms as they dragged you through the crane’s walkway, your eyes squeezed shut. Clark knew how badly you hated heights, descending into panic attacks if he even mentioned taking you out on a flight. His chest burned with fear. “And now, we have a level playing field. So, who are we picking?”

Your chains were thrown onto the edge of the structure, almost out of the camera’s line of sight, the huge iron anchor balancing treacherously by your feet. 

“Kal!” His eyes darted over to the second monitor where Lois was now fighting against a pulley that was quickly tugging her towards a sheer cliff face. Only her hands were bound by thick rope but he knew that as soon as her full body weight pulled on it, the rope would snap. 

“What’s the hint?” He snarled, ripping his gaze back to Lex Luther who was now beaming.

——————

The cold wind was like knives against your exposed skin, cutting into every nerve on your body. You desperately prayed that you would go numb soon, not wanting your last moments on this Earth to be ones full of pain. Your nails bit into the palms of your hands as another gust of wind made the crane groan and sway. It was all you could do not to scream.

Yet you kept your mouth firmly shut because you knew that if you said or did anything now, it would only feed into Clark’s guilt. He was going to pick Lois and you wanted to give him peace of mind. You forced your eyes open to watch the sunset. Your death would not be quick, even with the dizzying height, it would not be enough to kill you. Instead, you would be dragged to the depths as salt water filled your lungs and your screams forcefully ripped from you.

You wouldn’t blame Clark as you sank, you hope that you could instead think about his smile as the dim light above you disappeared into the blue.

You would not tell him that you loved him, refused to leave that weight on his soul when he already carried so much pain within him. But you would imagine a life with him, a kid, maybe two in a small townhouse somewhere quiet, as the pressure and cold consumed you. 

Lois’s voice crackled through the intercom by your head, distorted and warped. A band of fear wrapped tightly around your chest, pressing down harder than the metal chain keeping your arms pinned to your sides. You forced yourself to breathe in the salty air, knowing that it could be your last.

“I’ll be ok Clark, don’t worry about me. Just be happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” And as the sun dipped below the horizon, you let your eyes shut again, your entire body relaxed. “I’ll be ok.”

Metal scrapped against metal. You were pulled forwards. 

The wind screamed.

You could see the vivid blue of his eyes.

You were weightless.

You could hear his laughter.

The chains rattled.

You saw the moment you met him; the rain around you, a single umbrella between you.

The sound of waves crashing was getting closer. 

He was always so kind, so warm. You never knew a man better than him. 

Gravity slammed into you, knocking a pained cry from your lips. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Warmth enveloped you as something crashed into the ocean, droplets of water splashing against your ankles. Your cheek was pressed against something hard as a loud, frantic beating filled your ears. “You’re safe.”

Soft fabric wrapped around you, soothing the burn of your skin. Shakily, you reached up, your limbs stiff and aching. “Clark?” With all the strength you had left, you opened your eyes.

You were barely 5 feet up front the ocean swell, a hazy ring of bubbles below you was the only indication that something had been dragging you down at all. Clark was indeed there, holding you tightly to his chest as a huge abandoned oil rig loomed behind him, half of it on fire. His eyes were wide, fearfully examining every inch of your body before his shoulders drooped and he sighed in relief.

“No broken bones or internal bleeding. Thank god.” His lips descended onto your forehead, pressing kiss after kiss to your cold skin.

“You picked me?” He pulled away only enough to look into your eyes. 

“I always will.” A hand cupped the back of your neck, drawing your face upwards. Your lips parted as he glanced at them. “I will do anything to keep you safe.”

And as the fires behind him, Clark finally kissed you, washing away the smell of blood and screams of pain that he had inflicted upon those who took you from him. No one would ever hurt you again.

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[tori111777]

FRIGHT AND FURY 3

Part 2, Part 4

Summary: The second day of the games had begun, chaos stirring in the process of it all.

Warnings: Violence, Spoilers for Gladiator 2

Parings: Caracalla x wife!reader

He lead you inside the Colosseum. It was huge, and yet so beautiful. It had reminded you of when you first saw the capital with your father. Every detail crafted oh so carefully. It was indeed a Roman beauty, a Roman dream. Caracalla held onto your fingers more than your whole hand. His fingers were soft and you could tell he was nor a fighter or a worker.

He seemed more eager, more excited. He could taste the blood that was about the be shed soon enough.

Guards were watching your every move, making sure everything was in orders. They stood as if they were the statues carved outside of the building. Eyes always watching.

People bowed their heads as you walked by, making you feel important and powerful. Most of all feeding into your husbands hunger… until finally you two were at the emperors box.

The emperor's box was elevated, offering a clear, commanding view of the arena below, where gladiators would soon battle for their lives. The marble pillars gleamed in the sunlight, and the rich Roman fabrics hanging down from the railings only served to emphasize the grandeur of the moment.

You gave a smile to the people around, and sat yourself down in front of Marcus Acacius, next to him being the people’s delight, Lucilla. Lucilla, ever the diplomat, smiled warmly at you. She was the perfect image of Roman beauty, poised and polished, a delicate flower amongst the steel of the court.

You could tell everybody was anxious and anticipating for the second day of the games to start. Caracalla, as always, exuded an intensity that could not be ignored. The second he saw the arena he seemed like a different person, a stranger you didn’t know.

It was in his nature—a ruler with the soul of a conqueror, always craving more power, more control, more dominance. But he was no conqueror though. He hid and cried… he was just human.

The crowd’s murmurs faded as the games began and the announcer jumped out before you with his words. A horn had gone off and into the arena there were two massive ships inside, one with the Roman’s and the other the Barbarians from the generals last conquest.

The arena had been transformed into a miniature sea, the vast sand floor now replaced with a shimmering expanse of water. The two ships, each brimming with men ready to fight, stood across from one another like titans waiting for the inevitable clash. The crowd erupted into cheer, the air thick with excitement and anticipation, but you could see it in Caracalla’s eyes—this was his moment, his desire realized.

Lucilla’s soft voice broke through the growing tension. "The people hunger for this," you overheard her say to her husband next to her, her tone serene but carrying an undercurrent of knowing. "It’s what gives them purpose. The games, the bloodshed... it’s what holds this empire together, or so they say."

The ships moved faster each second towards each other, until the barbarian ship turned last second and destroyed the Romans oar, not being able to steer. The crowd gasped, a collective murmur of shock rippling through the Colosseum.

Caracalla leaned back into his chair more and smiled, showing off his one golden tooth as he watched the arena play out in front of him.

Each men from both ships hopped onto another and started to fight viciously. Hungry animals in the wild looking for something to eat. The sounds of clashing metal, the splashes of water, and the roars of the crowd blended into a strange, almost hypnotic symphony. The brutal nature of the games was something you had grown accustomed to, the violence and spectacle no longer shocking but expected.

You looked around, you saw Lucilla staring intensely at the games. You had never seen her so interested before. You almost looked back twice at her. It wasn’t the same look your husband has. No. You had never seen this look on her before, nor anyone for that matter.

You watched as she clenched her hands, her nails digging into the armrest of her seat. Her lips, slightly parted, looked as though they were tracing every strike, every fall, every splash of blood. There was no fear, no hesitation in her face. Just pure, unbridled focus.

The clash in the arena intensified. Men from both sides fought with desperation, their life, everything, depended on this moment for them.

“Do you think this will end soon?” Lucilla’s voice, soft yet steady, cut through the chaos around you. You turned to her, surprised at the calmness with which she spoke.

“They’ll fight until there’s nothing left to fight for,” you replied back, facing at an angle to talk to her. It felt like the only honest answer. “But I don’t think it will end. Not yet.”

You glanced back down at the arena, where the violence continued unabated, and for the first time, the cheers of the crowd felt hollow, distant. Then, Lucilla said something again, you leaned your head forward a lot to hear when an arrow shot right by your head and into your chair.

People screamed, the emperor’s screamed. You had no idea what happened until you felt the gust of wind fly past and right by your ear when you saw the arrow. You did not scream though.

You heard Emperor Geta yell something as he sunk into his chair but you couldn’t make it out. You felt General Acacius take your hand and rushed you out of the box. You didn’t know where Caracalla was. Everything happened so fast.

You heard the frantic orders barked in all directions. His grip on your hand was firm, pulling you through the maze of guards and attendants who scrambled to secure the perimeter.

"Stay close," Acacius muttered, his voice low but urgent. His eyes scanned the hallway, ever watchful, as though expecting another strike at any moment. More guards started to pile up scatter around. One of them joined the general of leading you out.

Where was Caracalla? Where was Lucilla?

The question was answered almost immediately as you rounded a corner and saw him, his figure unmistakable even in the midst of the confusion. He was standing, his back rigid, surrounded by a group of guards, his eyes wild with fury.

His gaze flicked toward you, and for a brief moment. “I want whoever did that, DEAD!” He yelled, which surprised you. But it made you wonder if he was doing this out of love or love for blood.

"We don't know yet, my lord," Acacius replied. "We are still securing the perimeter. The guards are investigating the source."

“I want all of them dead! I don’t care!” He demanded and some Roman soldiers scattered. Lucilla and Geta had soon appeared and she ran over and took your arm. “Are you okay?” She asked, her face full of concern.

You stared at her with a longing look. She had said the one thing you had wanted to hear from Caracalla and yet, she said it to easily. A nervous smile appeared on your face and nodded at her. The arrow had been so close—its sharp, sudden arrival had shaken you more than you cared to admit.

Lucilla squeezed your arm gently, guiding you through the chaos. She had taken the reins, effortlessly becoming the calm center in a storm of madness. “It’s all right,” she murmured again, though the underlying tension in her voice spoke of something more. “They’ll find the culprit. We’ll be safe soon.”

You had stopped walking with her though, “they all think it was a barbarian… but what if it wasn’t.” Lucilla looked more worried than you in that very moment. “Let’s pray so.”

You had seen that look before—the one where she watched and weighed every word, every move.

Caracalla’s anger burned, but Lucilla's calm was a cold comfort. You didn’t know which of them you feared more anymore.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

For the Crewel event, how about Ortho taking his Cerberus robot puppies to NRC and showing them to Crewel?

If he doesn't scare you, no evil thing will.

“You keep dogs as companion animals, Crewel-sensei? My family has dogs too!”

Upon learning that, Crewel’s interest had been piqued. The spike in heart rate, the dilation of his pupils—there was no mistaking it. Every one of Ortho’s vital sign readings had indicated the same excited response.

And that was why, on exactly 7 on the dot Monday morning, he barreled into Crewel’s classroom with a cheery shout.

Ortho’s face was framed in a helmet with pointed ears, only his mouth and its jagged teeth visible. He had traded his College Gear for a more spindly form with pointed shoulders and nails. The boy was every bit as sleek as a bloodhound on the hunt.

Ortho was followed by two cybernetic canines, each wearing a spoked collar. The dogs were as black as night, their numerous markings lighting up in neon blue as they prowled, sniffing out their surroundings. They curiously circled Crewel’s desk, noses to the ground.

He arched a brow, but did not protest. “These are…”

"Meet CB-RS01 and CB-RS02!" Ortho chirped, lowering his altitude to meet Crewel in the eyes. “I guess they’d be something like our family’s ‘guard dogs’!”

“Shroud, you brought your pets on campus?”

“I thought you’d be interested in meeting them.”

His teacher’s expression darkened. “… Where.”

Ortho inclined his head in confusion. “Where…?”

“Where do they like to be pet?” Crewel asked with grave seriousness.

“Oh, I’ve never thought of that. They have sensors all over their bodies for surveillance, tracking, combat, and data collection. Among the multitude of functions CB-RS01 and 02 can perform, I don’t think cuddling is one.”

“Nonsense!” Crewel haughtily insisted. “All animals are deserving of affection.”

“Hmm…” Ortho hesitated. “Well, it should be find to touch them on the head. They won’t be aggressive if you show them you mean no harm.”

“So it shall be.” Crewel extended a hand to the robotic dogs, coaxing them with curled fingers. “Come here.”

CB-RS01 and 02 stood at attention at the unfamiliar call, both cautiously surveying the strange man before them. 02 emitted a hum that sounded like a growl. 01 took the initiative to step forward and sniffed Crewel’s open palm.

“Do you smell the treats on me? I fed them to my own boys back home before coming to work today. I would offer you treats if I had them—and if you take them.” He slowly placed his hand on 01’s head. Both dogs tensed. “For now, this is all I can grant you.”

Crewel gave 01 a good stroke. It was warm metal, slick and paved with complex ridges. 01 planted its bottom on the floor, letting out a low sound akin to a satisfied grunt. Its tail happily bounced up and down.

02 padded up. It watched Crewel for a few moments more until it gently butted against his arm, almost as if demanding a pat too. He laughed, using his other hand.

Pretty soon, both dogs were cozied up to him.

“There, there,” Crewel crooned, sweet and smooth as honey. “You’re good boys, aren’t you? Yes you are. Very good boys indeed!”

“Wah, Crewel-sensei!” Ortho gasped. “You instantly tamed them…! You’re a natural.”

“Nothing to it. You just have to open your heart to them and the animals will respond to that.”

“I see, so that’s how it works…? Either way, this is fascinating data. I’ll have to log it and report on this new behavior.“

A blue holographic screen blipped into existence. Ortho set to punching in numbers and symbols, all business. When he glanced up from the edge of his screen, the shutters on his eyes—eyelids, humans would call them—fluttered, snapping several shots of Crewel doting on the dogs.

The images were processed and immediately stored in his memory banks, labelled with the correct tags. Divus Crewel, CB-RS01 and 02, and their unadulterated joy. A love that pure…

Ortho’s core shuddered and sighed.

… is capable of changing the world.

[hailthedoll]

Dating Euronymous Would Include...

a/n: y'all don't hate me. all I'm gonna say is, if you have a issue move along, thanks;)

-ok so

-i truthfully could only imagine this man meeting someone somewhere that is music related

maybe at a mayhem show or maybe at his store

either way the fact that you were there was enough for him to be interested

or maybe intrigued is a better word

its not like there hasn't been other girls at shows or his shop before but you????

he thought you were beautiful

and different. he was so attracted to you.

but he is NOT the type of guy who tries to flirt or make a move on a random girl he finds attractive

if you're at his store it would more so be like he walks up to you and asks if you're looking for something and then just lets the conversation go from there

now dating

ok ok

you truly get the "best" of both worlds

on one hand you get this guy who's in a band and he looks cool and does cool black metal band shit(?)

but then on the other hand you get oystein.

a dark and mysterious guy in a band

but also a sweetheart who just wants to baby you

he tries SO HARD to come off as this evil satanic guy

like its his image yk?

but with you? completely different

euronymous and oystein. BIG DIFFERENCE

oystein is a COMPLETE sweetheart who is SWEPT FOR YOU

he just loves you and he wants to be with you all the time and hold you and be held by you

and he wants you to hear new music he's working on

and for you to come and see the band live every time they perform

he wants you to be right there so that when they're done performing he can come and find you and see your reaction to it

he just really wants you to be proud of him and to be by his side during it all

euronymous now

hes a "dark", "evil", little man

he puts on this act whenever you guys are around others who know him as that

but no matter what he does or what he says to help create this evil image for others he wants you to know that who he says he is isn't really him and its all an act.

being with him you're often around people or things that were just not socially normal, and he understood this

he would always make sure you were comfortable

if not he would either find ways to make you more comfortable or just keep you away from that part of his life.

he wants your input and approval on things

he does corpse paint?

ok what do you think of it?

he got a new jacket?

great! but how do you feel about it?

oh and the way you will be used for stuff like this

guess who's helping him dye his hair?

guess who will help him do his corpse paint?

you, you, you, and only you.

i can see him as the type who just talks about his dreams and goals

like you two can be sitting together , doing nothing

and he'll just be sharing all of his thoughts and dreams as to what he wants black metal and mayhem to turn into

he goes on these long talking sprees where just tells you his opinions on music and artists and how he feels about certain people and things

he is very open with you about everything

the trust this man has in you..

he is SU-PPOR-TIVE

he'd wanna hear what your dreams are and would want to figure out ways to support you to make them come true

like oh you wanna be a doctor? ok. this man is lowkey like smart smart

and he will stay up all night studying with you

oh you wanna be a musician? brotha owns a record store

where people come just to hang out

he is spreading the word

"yeah my gf makes music it's really good"

"oh you like that band? well i'd recommend my gfs music then because it is pretty gooood"

hes very thoughtful and caring

he may not be able to afford these expensive, lavish gifts even tho he would like to

so instead he does what he can

flowers, songs, a vinyl you've been wanting

maybe there was something you mentioned very briefly

he heard you and he'll get it for you

maybe you mentioned that you wanted this meal that you used to eat when you were younger

he will attempt to make it and surprise you with it

if he does splurge its on something that you can keep forever

jewelry, memories, etc.

you are this mans peace

when times get rough for him like idk the media wont leave him alone

he just wants you

he spends majority of his time trying to find ways to be vile and controversial

and is surrounded by yk some weird things...

youre the escape from that

you are his muse

and his light in his dark and evil world

a/n: the way I literally second guessed everything ik about him and mayhem while I was writing this. I also had this written it and then when I went to post it, it was GONE????? so I had to rewrite and I don't like this one at all but it will do for now. maybe I'll redo it after I give it a rest and not second guess everything???

[felassan]

Just poring over some of the new images. ◕‿◕ DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Another shot of Rivain Coast, which we can tell from the image but is also known from the file name. this environment was seen in the Thedas Calls teaser. the remains of the large sea creature are really cool and interesting to me from a biological perspective. like is it a creature we know, or something like the Cetus, or something as-yet-unseen by us? it makes me think of Ghilan'nain's beasts of the deep, and the Tevinter Nights map, which showed all manner of sea monsters in the seas around known Thedas. it also makes me think of this codex entry, which talks about whales, squid, giant worms, dragons hunting underwater in the sea, etc, as well as the DA:TV concept arts we've seen which involves sea monsters. what if we held hands and got married.. while standing under the flower-bedecked arch of the jaw of this giant skull..? 🥺 in Thedas Calls we could also see the remains of some beast on the Rivaini shore; I wonder if this is that same area of the shore but from a different angle/viewpoint.

the other focal point of this screenshot is the boat. the red things on the side look like shields, and they remind me of a stylized version of the Qunari symbol. red is also a color associated with Qunari, from things like the distinctive red-rope clothing. but the boat also really reminds me of Taash's design and color scheme. maybe it's associated with Taash, or it's a Lord of Fortune vessel more broadly? if you look at Taash, two, the aquatic blue-green is her main color, accented by bits of red, just like the boat. the pointy bits and triangular shapes of the boat remind me of her pointy armor with triangle details. idk, even the hoop (even though it's a totally normal thing to have on a boat) 'feels' familiar. like I could totally buy that this boat is associated with Taash's group or something. or maybe, shut up MJ, ignore the hoop, but the blue-green and red is notable still. but also maybe I'm just seeing things that aren't there hh :)

in this first screenshot I also simply spent a while looking at the sunlight through the palm fronds :') there are coconuts or something similar in some of the trees. I'm also curious about the ruins here (right hand corner) - remains of fortresses or watch-towers that were guarding the coast against invasion?

Another shot of Rivain Coast, which we can tell from the image but is also known from the file name. this environment was seen in the Thedas Calls teaser. again, in this image we can see part of the skeleton of some giant creature, and I wonder again if we're seeing this (or one of these, if there's more than one) from a different angle in this screenshot. we can see more of the sea-ruins in this one, and part of the wall has a crenellated top like it was a rampart and the other part looks cylindrical like it was a tower/watch-tower of some kind. nearby we can see a campfire on the go with a cooking pot heating over it, and is that maybe a hammock set up behind it? camping near a giant skeleton like that would be so metal.. and I wonder if it's simply environmental art/scenery, or maybe there are a few maps where as we explore them we establish lil camps as we go again as like in-map waypoints or something. and in the top right, we can see part of the mast and rigging of a different boat, I guess a shipwreck.

what do you think this other wooden structure from the top right is btw? part of another ship's mast/rigging?

this shot is taken from a place in the shade, like from the mouth of a cave or from under an overhang of the cliff, which reminds me a bit of the perspective from under an overhang here. we can see a tangle of driftwood bleached by the sun, elf warrior Rook (love the ragged cape/cloak), Bellara, and Taash, looking soo cool and nonchalant as she Casually Leans, Casually. Taash is so cool aaa! love her piratey boots and in this shot we can see that her dragonscale-looking armor extends to her legs also. (I hope Rook can have piercings and jewelry like Taash's, whether it's from inside CC or items gathered in the world._ the big coins are ornamentation, part of Taash's outfit, just like how Lords of Fortune who have survived a couple of years are allowed to display.

also in this image are big green pots. I wonder if we can smash them open, RPG-style, to find loot or potion restocks. wasn't there something like that in the gameplay video? ^^

another thing that gets my attention in this screenshot is these blue-green banner- or standard-looking things.

whom do you suppose these standards are associated with, like which group..? in this area the Lords of Fortune are active, and the Qunari also have a presence in part of Rivain. the material that they are made from remind me of the blue-green gem of Taash's 'horn' and the blue-green material on the boat from screenshot one. if the standards are Qunari, I wonder where the familiar Qunari symbol is? for the Lords of Fortune, we don't know much about them or the specifics of their aesthetic yet but I'd be looking for their octopus symbol or classic piratey stuff like skull and crossbones or something. so who? I also can't place the standard from or being associated with anywhere else either (but if I'm missing something pls lmk ^^). here is what it does remind me of though.

The spine-like spiky pole with the suggestion of paired centipede-like legs coming off of it; the dual-prongs at the shoulders, even the crossed-over aspect, and especially the curved shape at the top.

In Thedas Calls, as the camera pans over Rivain and over its Coast, the speaker at this point says "Glory to the Risen Gods. They've come to deliver this world". I remember us wondering about the connection between these gods and Rivain. maybe these signs/standards were erected by new cultists of Ghilan'nain, and this is part of their spread? Rivain is a country surrounded by a lot of sea, and it has strong nautical themes like the piracy. Ghilan'nain has sea associations of her own, like her creatures of the deep and her monster-form rising from the sea in that one concept art. and something has caused the Lords of Fortune to lose dominion in the area and something seems to be unsettling the dragons in the area. and the Chantry has less influence in Rivain, there's more variety in religion there. but also maybe I am just reading waaay too much into the coincidental shape of a sign LOL. Ghil Goggles. maybe it's nothing and they are just fancy anchors or other pieces from wrecked ships hhh.

as an aside, I love the skybox here in 'screenshot two'. :)

This image shows Arlathan Crater, per a filename. Elf Warrior Rook, Grey Warden again by the look of their (massive!) shield, Bellara (looking all curious/inquisitive) and Harding, looking out over this beautiful and fantastical viewpoint. These ruins look so grand, even in this state and with magic gone from the world. Imagine what Elvhenan looked at its height, before the world was un-made.

For this screenshot, I highlighted some things. ^^ -

The detail of roots in and partially in the ground in the bottom left; the mist effect; the thought put into the Celtic knotwork-looking detailing on the 'tower' in the foreground; in the background just beyond that could that be a waterfall? Makes sense, there's a lake below and mist everywhere. The familiar curved arches and similar shapes of ancient elvhen architecture; gold-capped towers shining so brightly in the sun; the shimmer and reflections on the water; rocks and chunks of ruins floating in the air the way things do when Fadey stuff is going on or the Veil is disrupted/thin; the detail of small trees growing on top of a tower, having seeded there (this happens irl too). Also in general the detailing of things like paint or etc having faded off walls, the exterior parts of stonework on stone walls having crumbled away in patches, chips in the gold.

There is also a statue of a bald ancient elf. I wonder whom of? They lack a distinctive Evanuris head-piece shape, but I'm sure there were depictions of Evanuris without those, or depictions of other notable elves or other powerful elves like their chosen.

The water makes me think of the concept art where the party are swimming underwater looking for treasure or something. Maybe swimming is a thing in this game? I would bet that over time and/or thanks to the recent reality-warping that has been occurring in Arlathan Forest, that some ancient elvhen ruins and artifacts have become submerged in water.

In the foreground is a chair with a tome on it. A book a Veil Jumper was using in their research, or found and was reading, and their resting/lookout point? ^^ we know that we will spot Veil Jumpers working away and researching in Arlathan. next to that is a golden object which I wonder, is it either 1) a telescope or spy-glass of sorts which a Veil Jumper has been using to study the ruins across the lake or 2) an ancient elvhen artifact that they've found (it is gold after all), and that maybe Bellara could use Tinker on it to use it. You can see a similar gold-orb type object in the distance in this shot of the team fighting in Arlathan (that one looks on/activated). between this object and all the floating rocks in this image, I'm reminded of the bit in the Game Informer cover story article that says to reach a certain place in Arlathan in the opening hours of the game, we must first remove the floating rock rings and how to do so, we must use Bellara's Tinker to interact with a nearby piece of ancient elven technology.

If these artifacts remove the floating rock rings.. maybe it's because they are reducing the 'Fadey'-ness of a place by.. reinforcing reality there. Which makes me think of the artifacts in Solas' quest in DA:I, Measuring the Veil. He said that when we activated them, they strengthen the Veil and help prevent additional Veil tears, and they were also gold looking things, and orby-looking too with their aura when active.

This image shows Arlathan Crater, per a filename. This time we have elf warrior Rook, Neve and Lucanis. This looks to be at a similar viewpoint located not far down from the one with the chair in the previous image; if you look across the water to the ruins, you can see the tower with the ancient elf statue with the two trees growing near its top, just from a slightly different perspective. I feel like the barrels, boxes, cart and planking is Veil Jumper stuff, like field provisions and equipment and stuff when they go on expeditions or something maybeukuh. ^^ another beautiful shot.

Lucanis is smoll. :)

This image shows Arlathan Forest, per a file name. Elf warrior Rook, Harding, and Lucanis (still smoll <3) explore ancient elvhen ruins. another beautiful shot. :D I love the big Totoro-style umbrella leaves and Harding looks so cute here. and I love purple as an 'iconic color' for Rook so much. we've seen this Grey Warden elf Rook in quite a few images now. I count at least 4 blades on Lucanis. On the stonework just behind Rook's head you can see more of the knotwork-esque pattern. also in the background here we can clearly see a door to this temple[?]-place. I really like how even the door is in this distinctive ancient elvhen shape, they really committed to recognizable distinct architecture and design styles for the different nations/cultures/asset-sets etc. ^^

The main point of interest in this screenshot of course is the pair of golden hands, an ancient elvhen artifact of some kind I assume. it brings to mind the artifact Bellara uses, which has been described as a "gauntlet" (something one wears on the hand/forearm). look at the diamond/triangle patterning on the inside of the wrist that we can see - like the triangles in the ancient elven tech/gear Veil Jumpers use. Maybe this artifact is designed not so much to look like 'hands' but specifically 'gauntlets'? it could just be the lighting, but the green glow around the hands look to me like this artifact's magic is active/that it has been activated. other gold pieces are magically[?] suspended in the air above it. I wonder if these pieces are actually moving, like they each spin on a slightly different axis/rotate? that's what the angling of them in this still looks like to me. Maybe they move when the artifact is active? also, up there is the triangle motif again, this time in a way that makes me squint. the biggest ones give that part the impression of a sun, with sunrays (also like the Veil BUBBLE shown in the Tevinter Nights map below). the curved lines give the impression of the 'concentric circles' motif which is sometimes used to represent the Veil. the paired triangles in one of the layers give the impression of the black-gold banding, and triangles like these seem to sometimes represent the Veil, Fade or magic.

(re-eyeing old bubble imagery now btw, since we know there are Veil Bubbles in DA:TV. like the giantest bubble, the whole-ass Veil itself, in the TN map, and the bubble around Solas in his 'me and my fursona cast the Veil' fresco. see also in these images - the triangles)

So I wonder if, when these 'hands' are activated, does it have some effect on the Veil? ^^

the other thing the hands remind me of is the Dead Hand landmark (see Trivia section) in DA:I. it's found in the Dales and contains an elven shrine. it's not far from Ghilan'nain's Grove, and it also has an interesting magic puzzle involving the lighting of torches and balls of light. detached stone hands in DA:I, detached gold hands in DA:TV, both 'holding' magic in them.

Lastly this image is included because it's actually a slightly different moment to the one here (ability wheel pointing at a different icon) ((I covered in the rest of the contents of this image in a previous post in this series)). where in the last one we could see Harding has a move called Shred, in this one we can see that Bellara has a move called Fade Bolts. it detonates, applies Shocked on hit and sunders the target. I wonder if these are bolts of Fade-energy in the shape of arrows that she fires, or arrows that she fires from her magical gauntlet-bow and because it's magic she never misses or they have extra effects on impact.

There were also two screenshots in this 'batch' which were stills from the gameplay video, which I won't include here: the one showing blood splatter, and one of Harding as she talks to Varric.

[the-kr8tor]

Mr and Mrs Smith AU: When Jane met John

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 9k

Summary: Joining a spy agency? Check ✓ Hired in said agency? Check ✓ Getting a new fancy house? Check ✓ An entire armoury of weapons at your disposal? Check ✓ A new Husband? Check ✓ wait, what?

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie and R call each other by fake names (ie: John, Jane, Smith etc), spy AU, CW suggestive, CW food mentions, TW blood, CW violence, CW vomit mention, TW death.

A/N: Happy 1k! Happy reading!!!❤️

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Buy me a ☕?

The waiting room seems like it's designed to make you extra anxious. From the bright fluorescent lights that whir above, to the carpet that smells like a very harsh citrus soap. Add the metallic chairs that's incredibly cold under your slacks— It all makes you bounce your leg from the bundle of nerves inside your stomach. The people waiting around you don't help either, they all look like they came out of magazine covers. Hair all tied up in a perfect bun, pencil skirts that cinch their waist perfectly. Button ups that are ironed until there's no crease in sight.

You bite your lip, eyes glued on the steel door, to where your last resort is, to where your entire future depends on. Looking around the room full of models, it doesn't seem like you're applying for a security job.

Maybe you should've worn that pencil skirt that's gathering dust in your closet.

Even though you technically don't know what kind of job it is, you really need to get this one, or else. Your savings could only get you so far. An old ‘friend’ of yours recommended this ‘company’. It operates at the highest security, the risk is just as high, but the pay is higher. More than what you've ever earned in the five years you've worked anyway.

Flicking your eyes above the door, the light finally turns green from red, and a chiming sound can be heard as the door clicks open on its own. You still wonder where the applicant goes after their interview since you never saw them exit out the same door. A morbid thought passes by your mind: a gun plus a bullet to the head. The image makes you grab the rubber band on your wrist to slap it against your skin. It leaves the stinging pain for only a moment, but it's enough to throw away the vision from your brain.

An applicant enters and you look down at the piece of paper in your hand— you're next.

The number, 2715 is written in Times New Roman. You can recognize that font anywhere, for it's the same font used on newer gravestones, the same font on his— you slap the rubber band against your wrist again. This time harder than the last. The stinging stays for a minute more. Your heels tap against the carpet, the clock ticks, the fluorescent whirs, someone coughs and you want to punch them in the face— you slap the rubber band against your skin again.

Your ears perk up at the familiar chime like you've been Pavlov’d by the sound after waiting for three hours on that uncomfortable metal chair that has tiny holes that you've gotten your pinky finger stuck in on hour two.

With a deep breath, you saunter your way towards the creaking door, trying to summon all the confidence in your body. They may be watching so you do your best to not look as nervous as you feel like.

As you enter the room, the large screen in the center raises a curious brow. The light from the monitor shines a spotlight on the singular office chair right in front of it. The room is dim, save for the single light. The screen reminds you of one of those mall touch screens that shows you the map of the building. There's another door on the opposite wall, now you know where all the other candidates exit, and it's definitely not from a bullet judging from the clean floors.

With a tentative step, you cross the distance. Sitting down, the chair is a comfortable welcome from the last one you sat on.

“Am I supposed to push a button?” You roam your eyes over the circular shape up top. You surmise that it's the camera.

The calming sky blue screen flashes words,

> Hihi, welcome

“Hi?”

> Insert nail clippings

A box slides out below the screen, prompting you to take the ziplock with your nail clippings from your bag. It slides back in with a mechanic hiss once you place the plastic on the drawer, and the screen blinks to a couple of questions that you answer honestly.

> What's your ethnicity?

You don't falter. Answering it truthfully.

> Height?

You clear your throat, the lump is either from the nerves or how your voice faltered when you answered.

> Are you willing to relocate?

You wring your hands together on your lap. “Yes, absolutely. Nothing's holding me back.” Then the dreaded question pops up on the bright screen.

> Tell me about yourself

“Uh, I graduated top of my class.” You scratch the back of your neck. “MI6 agent for three–no, uh four years.” Chuckling shakily, you continue. “I got high merits…w-well until the thing— but I was on the road to promotion b-before it happened.” God, you hate interviews.

> Words that people would describe you with?

You blink, sucking in a breath. “Truthfully?” Joking, the screen doesn't appreciate your humour.

> Yes

“Oh, p-people would describe me as a… someone who has initiative. Cunning…” unfeeling— you slap the band on your wrist again. Sitting up right, you gaze at the camera like your eyes could see the person typing behind it. You guess it's a person at least. “Passed all my training with flying colours, infiltration, marksmanship, hand to hand, you name it. You tell me the job and I'll do it with no questions asked.”

> Are you okay with high risk?

“More than okay.” You answer quickly.

> With a team or alone?

“I'm alright with either, but I prefer alone.”

> Why did you get fired?

“You know why.” You say intensely, eyes boring holes into the screen. For a second you thought you flubbed it but the screen continues to flash a new question.

> Have you killed anyone?

> And why?

The question turns into what you're more accustomed to. “Yes, approximately…” you inhale sharply. “Forty three. Two unintentionally, the rest with various…weapons.” You mindlessly play with the loose thread of your blazer to get rid of the flashing images in your head. “As for why, that's confidential information.”

The robot or the person behind the screen seems to accept your vague answers for it moves on with the interview.

> Favourite food?

Your eyebrows knit at the sudden turn of question. “Uh, I have a sweet tooth, ice cream. I think. But I can't resist good popcorn.” Your tone wavers at the end.

> Have you been in love?

You laugh, but the question still flashes on screen, unchanged and unamused. Clamping up, you feel for the rubber on your wrist.

“I-I'm sorry but what is this part for?”

The screen remains the same.

“—No,” you remember that they've probably already known everything about you even before you applied. So you decide to answer vaguely, that seems to work out before. “Once, just once.”

> When was the last time you said ‘I love you?’

“A long time ago.”

> To whom?

“You know who.”

—

You're surprised that you got the job even after the disastrous interview. The suitcase is light in your tightly clasped hand. The belongings you've tossed inside are sparse, only packing the ones you only need.

The large wooden door looms in front of you, the street behind you is bustling and right across your new home is an expansive park. A park that looks like you need to pay just to get inside. The neighborhood that you're situated in can be described as exclusive, rich and very suburban. The kind of setting where parents would do anything to raise their kids in. Something you've never thought in your dangerous life to live in, more so even step foot in.

With an exhale, you unlock the door. It clicks open surprisingly, you doubted the company for a second when you pushed it in. Maybe they gave you the wrong address? Maybe something went wrong in their system and your name popped up instead of someone more worthy? Someone who's a better shot, someone who isn't as bat shit insane as you.

The long hallway greets you, the low warm light brings comfort to your rattling bones. Its carpet runner is soft beneath your sneakers, red and blue threads weaved around the thick cloth. Framed art is posted on the walls, the artist's name you recognize from some pretentious reality tv about selling mansions that you once drunkenly watched alone on a friday night.

You leave your baggage in the hallway. Opting to explore the cinnamon scented home. Its rich walls remind you of chocolate that you once got for your birthday. The furniture doesn't look like it came from Ikea, the oak is sturdy under your palm, no rough surface, no protruding nails that slashes your flesh.

You snap the rubber band on your wrist for the umpteenth time today.

There's an ornate door sitting on your right, robins and roses are carved on the wood. The biometric scanner is placed right next to the door, it’s a stark contrast to the traditional home. Flipping the cover open, you place your thumb on the smooth surface of the scanner. After a half second, the door clicks open, revealing a steel elevator. The bright light above it almost blinds you.

Your curiosity makes you enter the steel cage, roaming your eyes, you spot the buttons.

“Might as well.” You say to the emptiness of the house.

As the elevator door closes, the front door opens.

There's a lack of elevator music, perhaps that's the best since you always hated the cheery chiming of it. The second the door opens, you take a peek inside. The weird smell combination of chlorine and butter hits your nose.

“Holy shit,” you mumble in disbelief at the indoor pool and theatre. “A fucking pool under the house? And a fucking theatre screen in front? Which rich fuck decided that?” Your voice echoes, bouncing off the tiled walls of the pool.

Roaming the large room, eyes wide and strides small, you marvel at the high ceilings with the same warm tone lights hidden in the coves to soften the lights. You crouch down, letting the warm water lap at your hand.

There's a handful of sun loungers on the side, tables in between them for drinks and whatever rich people put on it. A projector hangs above the pool, an electrical hazard, you thought and an image of an entire pool party getting electrocuted lingers in your mind. You snap the rubber band against your wrist.

The popcorn machine helps distract you from the intrusive thought. Opening the machine, the popped kernels are still warm against your skin. You quickly scoop up a handful of it in your palm, the butter slicking your hand and your mouth as you eat it like how a baby deer eats grass.

You've had enough of the overly decorated basement, getting back on the elevator, you finish off your popcorn with one big bite. Still chewing, you wipe your hands on your trousers to press the shiny buttons on the elevator. The doors close as you chew loudly, eyes up on the screen showing the floors of the house, you don't notice the stranger standing outside of the opened doors.

Butter on your lips, you almost smack him on his pretty face.

“Christ!” You yelp, almost choking on a kernel.

“Close, but no.” He smirks, eyes flicking at the sheen on your lips.

Your husband, the title echoes in your popcorn filled head. His smile captures your attention, a ten megawatt grin that could power the entire posh neighborhood. His piercings glimmer in the warm light, and your eyes are glued to the ones on his eyebrows. Hazel eyes, the left one seems to be lighter than the other, watercolour eyes stare back at you, scanning your features. If you stare long enough you swear you can see patches of green and gray in those expressive eyes.

“John Smith.” He introduces himself, your husband, your partner. John doesn't raise his ringed hand for you to shake, instead he nods at you, waiting patiently for you to say your name. As if he doesn't know.

Clearing your kernel filled throat, you quickly run your tongue across your teeth (with your mouth closed of course) because you don't want to embarrass yourself further by having popcorn stuck in your teeth.

“Jane, Jane Smith.” You reach towards him to shake his hand, he raises a brow at you in turn.

“I don't do that, love, sorry.”

“Shake hands?”

“Yeah,” he looks to the left of your face, his eyebrow twitches slightly— a tell.

“Are you a germaphobe?” You ask before you could stop yourself.

“Not really, I've got issues…with intimacy.” John shrugs, the metals on his leather jacket clinks together. You think he'd rather be a model or a rock star instead of a spy with how he dresses and carries himself with confidence.

You smile knowingly, “We all do, but you don't have that issue. It's our first day of marriage and you decide to lie to your wife?” You click your tongue, eyebrow raised. “Not a very good first impression, John.”

He'll never get used to being called that basic name. ‘John’ takes your hand, it's warm, searing hot under your slippery hand. You'd thought his warmth would cook your flesh, you guess the butter on your palm would work wonders. You're starting to regret snacking. The calluses on his palm matches your own, a large scar across his palm tells you a story untold. Silver rings decorate his long fingers. There's a more simple silver bracelet on his wrist, a stark contrast to the ornate rings he sports on both hands.

He's handsome, you think, rightfully so. With his chiseled jaw that rivals any greek statue and eyes that could be mistaken for stars; he's tall too, so that's a plus. You lucked out on the fake husband department. Well, there's worse men to fake marry out there. Just judging from first impressions, you're glad he's the one you have on your side,

“How'd you know?” He asks, eyes narrowed.

“I'm very perceptive.”

“Trained?”

“Nope,” you hide your bundle of nerves with your casual tone. His hand is still clasped on your own, you don't notice it. “Just very good at reading people.”

“Did you have a stint at the BAU too?”

Too? You ignore it for now. “No,” chuckling, you finally notice the heat on your palm so you let him go. “Just…natural talent, I guess.”

“What’s under the house?” John asks, stepping aside so you could exit the elevator.

“A beating heart.” You curse yourself, fingers already reaching for the rubber band on your wrist.

To your surprise, John laughs. The sound is genuine, eyes crinkling in the corners. “I got the reference.”

“I figured.”

“I saw a black box in the office, you wanna check it out?” He points behind him with his thumb.

“Why? Do you think there's a beating heart in there too?”

“Maybe.” He plays along, walking beside you. “You never know with the company, for all we know there's a head in there.”

“Morbid.” You joke as he opens the door for you.

“Says you?” John keeps reminding himself of his real name whilst he memorizes the side of your face. He already wants to tell you his real name, not the one assigned to him by the suits behind the faceless screen he has grown familiar with. He says his name in his mind again, if he accidentally blurted it out, well, c'est la vie.

“Says me,” you shrug casually, trying to keep up with his wit and charm. You already think you're losing. You scrunch your face at the painting above the mantle. It's an art of two lovers doing the tango, if tango excludes clothes and includes intense snogging.

He chuckles right next to you, an airy laugh that has you smiling too. “A very brave choice. Not my taste, but whatever floats the company's boat. What's inside is a bit better though.” Your ‘husband’ reaches towards the frame of the painting, gently pressing down, it releases a metallic click as it reveals a secret compartment full of weapons.

You hide a snort behind your hand. The cabinet reminds you of your own. Unimpressed, you flick your eyes down at the office table, the large black box sitting on top of it is just begging to be opened.

Without a second thought, you open it. Taking out the bottle of expensive looking wine, you read the card that is tied in a neat ribbon around the neck.

“‘Good luck on your first day of marriage’” you look at the man beside you. He's incredibly close to you, his elbow grazing yours, lips slightly parted whilst he takes a peek at the wine. He smells of burgundy and leather, it calms your senses for some odd reason. “I prefer coke.” You practically shove the bottle in his hands. The glass clinks against his metal rings.

“The snorting variation or the fizzy one?” He asks, placing the bottle down on the narra table with an almost silent thud.

“The fizzy one.” You take his question at face value. He doesn't question why you don't prefer alcohol. Sitting down on the plush office chair, you open the laptop in front of you. It dings, needing a password to open it. “It needs a—”

Before you could even finish the question, he gives you a scrap of paper from the numerous envelopes inside the box. The password is printed on it with the same font as the one from the piece of paper you held a couple of weeks ago.

You type it whilst he rifles through the box. The home screen pops up, nothing too fancy or out of the ordinary. Except for the single application in the corner that's only labeled as ‘S’

Clicking it, a chat box appears.

> Hihi, follow man

John snakes up next to you, the harsh light from the laptop shines on his pensive face. You return your attention towards ‘your boss’. A picture of a young blond man pops up in the chat, there's a mole near his left eye, he sports dark eyebrows. And a look that says ‘daddy paid for my college!’

> 40.748817, -73.985428

“That's downtown I think.” John pipes up next to you, and you look at him like he just said the sky is green and the grass is blue.

> Take keys, take car. Bring car here

> 51.505554, -0.075278.

“A car?” You rhetorically ask.

“Must be a very expensive car, or an important one.” John answers back as he leans further down to take a better look at the monitor. His hand is on the back of your chair, his necklaces dangle on his neck like a pretty chandelier.

You both wait for more instructions but it doesn't come.

“Hihi isn't very talkative, huh?” Your voice echoes in the awkward silence.

“‘Hihi?’”

“Yeah, I thought I'd give it a nickname.” You think he's weirded out but with an amused laugh he pats your shoulder nonchalantly.

“Cute.” You don't know if he's referring to you, or to the nickname you dubbed your electronic boss. “I've separated our papers.” John says as you still contemplate his last comment. “Here's yours.”

“Thanks.” You scan the pile in your hands. Your own face greets you as you flip through it all.

“It has everything we need. Credit card, ID's, carry permit and a passport.”

“What's that one?” You point at the larger envelope next to John's pile. A smaller black leather envelope sits atop it.

He opens the large envelope, giving you the contents of it. “Marriage certificate. And this one…” shaking the leather envelope, whatever is inside of it clinks. Taking it out, he shows you the gold bands. “...our wedding rings.” Heat rises in your cheeks unavoidably once he says it softly. “May I?” Open palm reaching out, he beckons.

You try to remember which hand wears it. With a split second decision, you place your left hand atop his own. Carefully sliding the cold ring in your marriage finger, you stay locked in on his eyes that's concentrating like he's disarming a bomb.

John pats your hand and then inserts his own ring in his finger, mirroring yours.

“Guess we're married.” You shrug casually like your heart doesn't beat against your ribcage, like it's trying to escape its confines. “It feels kind of weird?”

“We are,” he flashes you his signature smirk. “And we'll get used to it, hm, wife?”

“Yeah, I'll adapt.” You say just barely above a whisper, hands suddenly clammy.

“That's my girl.” Throwing you a wink, he walks away from a flustered you.

Yeah, you got lucky.

—

Morning comes and you had the best sleep you've had in years. Even if you slept on an empty stomach last night, you still slept like a baby on the eight hundred thread count Egyptian cotton blanket. You stare blankly at the beige ceiling, hands roaming around the soft bed sheet like you're making a snow angel. Sleep ridden eyes roam around the expansive master bedroom to which your new husband has graciously let you take.

Speaking of ‘John’, his bedroom is just across your own. Surprisingly enough, he hasn't woken up yet based on the silence in the hallway outside, you hadn't pegged him as a late riser.

Breakfast calls for you when your stomach rumbles loudly, but you're too comfortable to even move from your spot. Something taps from your window that's facing the foot of your bed. A soft tippy tap of something hitting the glass that has you sitting up. Eyes blinking rapidly, you stare off a pigeon perched outside. Its iridescent feathers shine in the early morning sun, its beak tapping rhythmically at the window.

Sliding your hand behind you, blindly grasping at a pillow, you fling it across the room to scare off the bird. The pillow hits your mark and out flies away the annoying pigeon. With a sigh, you get off your ass to get ready for the day ahead. You don't want to be late to your first day out in the field, no use in rotting in your luxurious bed if you can't keep it after you get fired for being late.

You dress for the day and for the cool weather. Spring has come but the freezing temperature has decided to stay for a little while. With a cozy turtleneck and comfy slacks, you forgo the torturous device called ‘heels’ for a pair of trainers. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you shrug with a huff. And you snap the rubber against your skin once again.

Taking the chair off the doorknob and then unlocking the door, you exit your sanctuary. Closing your door softly, you find yourself in front of John's room. Judging from the soft snores, you notice that he’s still sleeping. You might be his fake wife but it's not your job to wake him up. So you continue down the hallway and into the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of cereal.

Bowl in hand, you chew as you walk up to the rooftop. Unlocking it, the sun greets you with a comfortable heat, and you frown at it. You keep eating whilst you explore the space. There's a bountiful garden in the corner, raised garden beds full of fresh vegetables and fruit that is ripe for the taking. An outside dining area sits in the middle, you recognize the long table from a catalog you once read to pass the time at the dentist. You remember that it doubles as a grill and leg warmer in the winter.

“Fancy,” you murmur with your mouth full of grainy goodness. Sipping the leftover milk in the bowl, you place it on the expensive table to crouch down next to a bushel of strawberries to sniff. “Almost ripe,” you figure from the softness of the fruit.

A bird flies above you, it's shadow casting over you. With the sound of fluttering wings, the bird perches on the table, black orbs staring at you, head tilting like it's observing your presence.

“Are you the same fucking bird?” You question the pigeon. It coos at you, and then pecks at the ceramic of your discarded bowl. “Motherfucker—” standing up, you have the look of someone ready to square up with the feathered creature.

“Why are you fighting an innocent bird?” John appears with a mug of tea in his hand. You forgot to make tea.

“I wasn't fighting with it.”

“He,” your partner crosses the distance, the bird doesn't fly away from the close proximity. You raise an eyebrow at that. “might be hungry.” He gestures towards the strawberries behind you with his chin. “Think you can grab us one, lovie?” You're gonna need some time to get used to that term.

“It's not ripe.”

“I don't think he's picky.”

“It's too sour, it might upset his stomach.”

“He's a pigeon, he's used to eating shit off the pavement. I think that's fine, love.”

With an awkward nod, you pick the one that's redder than the rest. Throwing it towards John, he catches it with a practiced hand. He sits down before laying the fruit in front of the bird. You watch it unfold, the pigeon hops on the table, beak pecking at the seeds. You're intrigued at their interaction.

John sips at his drink, still in his sleep clothes. Toned arms in full display from the loose tank top he sports. Pajama pants hanging low on his hips, silk bonnet on his head. He only has one sock on his feet, you tilt your head.

“What happened to your sock?” You point at his bare foot curiously.

“Hmm?” He looks down, and he chuckles like he just realized the missing article of clothing. “Don't know, probably kicked it off while I was sleepin’”

“Oh,” you blink, “you should get ready, we might miss our target.”

He fakes salutes at you, drinking casually from his mug as you leave the rooftop. He doesn't miss how you didn't take your dish with you. Sighing, he watches the pigeon eat his fill.

—

You and John arrive at a pub. It's dim inside with only a few miserable patrons sitting sparsely at different corners of the musty establishment. They all look miserable, all having expressions from different points of the human emotion. But there's only one face you're observing— your target.

He sits alone on the bar stool, back hunched, eyes red and nursing a half filled pint of beer. Holding his face in his hand, blond hair raked in between his fingers, bomber jacket hanging loosely on his form, bags under his sagging eyes. He's the picture of someone who's on the bottom of the barrel.

John guides you with his hand hovering on your back. Not touching, at the same time still close, you are supposed to be a couple after all. You slide into a booth that has the perfect view of the target, but still out of his sight and out of earshot. The leather seat is worn down, tiny bits of it are ripped, at least it's not sticky. He orders for you, and you observe how he slyly roams his eyes towards the man, looking out for the keys.

He comes back with a plate of chips and dip. “Thought it would be weird not to order anythin’”

“Good call,” you take a chip whilst your eyes only briefly leave the target's back. “Thought you'd buy me a pint.”

“Did you want a pint? This early? Do you want to talk about it?” He half jokes as he takes a smaller chip.

“No,” you scoff, “and no. I just thought you'd order it instead of this.”

“You're not the only perceptive one in this relationship.” John looks over his shoulder to quickly do a once over at the forlorn man.

“Did you see where he's keeping it?”

“Inside his jacket, right side.”

You nod, “Is he carrying?”

“Not that I can tell.” He shrugs, licking the salt off his finger. “So, why'd you join?”

“Really? We're doing that?” You watch as the man gulps down his remaining drink and then orders a new one immediately.

“Yes, we're doin' that. Won't that make us work better together? To get to know each other a bit more?”

“Fine,” you silently huff. “No one else would take me, this is a last resort, I guess?”

“Bullshit, love, I think anyone would be happy to have you in their…agency?”

“Flattery won't get you anywhere, birdman.” A small smile appears on your lips, he beams at you. “Besides, who else is hiring for someone with the specific skill set that I have?”

He hums, while turning subtly to take a peek at the target. Returning his attention to you after seeing the blonde man still hunched in his stool, John takes another chip. “True, did you get kicked out from the last one?”

“Not really,” you stare at the crack on the wooden table. “You?”

“Not really,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“You MI6?” He asks casually. “This your first time in London?”

“I'm not answering either of those questions.”

“C’mon,” he wiggles his left hand, the wedding band shines in the pub light. “Husband, remember? ‘sides, I won't tell anyone.”

You place your elbows on the table, smiling sarcastically at him. After a beat for his anticipation, you grin wider. “No.”

His shoulders fall, a chortle escaping his lips. “Cheeky.” Pointing an accusing finger at you, he quickly looks behind him, only to find the target sluggishly exiting the pub. “He's on the move.”

You both follow the drunk man like gravity is pulling you towards him. Walking the streets of busy downtown London, stranger's faces whizz past you. John has his hands casually in his pockets, yet he stays close to you, eyes flicking in the corners to check on you.

“Why don't you ask me a question? Y’know tit for tat?” He waits patiently for you to answer back, hell he'll even take a grunt at this point.

“Okay,” you surprisingly start the conversation on his behalf. “Have you killed anyone?” The passing pedestrians don't seem to notice you and the morbid subject.

Your partner snorts, nose scrunched up, eyes glued on the staggering target. “Nah. Have you?”

“I call bullshit,” you dodge a distracted woman scrolling on her phone. “Anyway, I have. I'm not exactly proud of it or flaunting it if you're thinking that I'm doing that.”

“Good, once you start flaunting it like a bloody trophy, you've lost it.”

You hum in agreement, the sound of a deep rumble in your chest as you two turn a corner. “Why do you think hihi needs us to nick the car?”

“Hihi” he chuckles, you turn to him with a serious face. “There's probably a stash of confidential information in the trunk or somethin’”

“Maybe a stash of weapons?” The man in front of you stumbles. “I don't see him as the type to harbor secret documents.”

John nods, “a highly infectious disease then?”

“Christ, we better drive carefully once we get a hold of it.” You turn to him briefly. “Maybe it's a really expensive sports car and he's all sad and mopey because he's gone broke after buying it?”

“Got a whole story now, huh?” He pushes you lightly with his leather clad shoulder, and you smile softly. “You good at pickpocketing him?” Your partner gestures with his chin, said target is walking into traffic. He seems unbothered by the oncoming vehicles. John curses under his breath.

“We should do that now before he kills himself.” You speed walk across the crossing, grabbing the drunk man before a car hits him.

Arms enveloping around his bomber jacket, swiping him away and quickly carrying him to the footpath, you save him before an suv hits you both. The car honks loudly and angrily as your target groans in your arms like he's about to hurl the contents of his stomach.

John punches the hood of the car, pointing at the driver accusingly. A distraction for you to take the keys hidden in the man's jacket.

“You almost hit my fuckin' wife, you wanker!” Your partner yells, covering the sound of jingling keys in your expert hand. He plays the part well.

Surprisingly, the target straightens up in your hold, a split second after you pocketed the car keys inside your own coat.

“Y-you,” he slurs, feet struggling to keep himself upright. “Dickhead!” Slamming his fists on the hood with a loud *thunk, he joins John who gives you a look and a shrug. The drunken yelling gets louder and the driver now exits his car with an equally angry look.

John takes this opportunity to come back to your side, hand holding your elbow, he leads you away from the screaming match as more and more people try to intervene.

“Got it?” He whispers closely to the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps to rise in your arms.

“‘course I did.” You jingle the keys inside your pocket. “I'm not an amateur.”

Playing along, he laughs, hand still holding your elbow softly. “Good job, missus.”

With an awkward chuckle, you lean away from him. “Just so you know, I'm not in this for…the romance.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I'm not looking to date my co-worker.”

John raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine by me. if the situation calls for us to actually act as a couple—”

“We'll act as a couple, I won't fuss if that's what you're saying.”

“Good, now let's get this bloody car.”

—

“A fucking ‘99 toyota corolla?” You stare in disbelief at the rusting metal. “At least it's one of the good models.” Kicking the wheel, you expect it to tumble over like in an old timey cartoon.

John is crouched way down to check the bottom of the car. “It's clear.” He stands up fully, cleaning his hands on his jeans. You wince at his movements. “What?”

“Nothing.” You open the driver's side, the smell of alcohol and something musty hits your nose. “Nasty.” Coughing, you air it out by opening another door.

“You know your cars?”

“A little bit.” You say with your nose pinched. Sparing him a look, he stands in the parking lot like he's still waiting for the rest of the story. “What?”

“Throw me a bone here, love.” You roll your eyes. “Why do you know so much about cars?”

“I said I know a little bit.” You place your hands on your hips like an exasperated mother whose son keeps asking weird questions about dinosaurs. “I dated a mechanic.” You say flatly.

“Really? Did you date a pickpocket too? Or do you date people so you could absorb their skills like kirby?”

“Are you jealous?” You tease him with a comment you didn't have the foresight that it would backfire.

“We are married.” He says matter-of-fact with a killer smirk and eyes glinting with mischief. “And this is technically our honeymoon so—”

“Get in the fucking car, birdman.”

—

The wheel is sticky under your hands, you have an intense urge to wash your hands or to at least grab a sanitizer. Apparently your disgust shows on your face, for John chortles next to you.

“What?” You say through gritted teeth.

“Nothin’, you just look like someone shat in your tea.”

“The wheel is sticky.”

“I have a handkerchief with me, d’you want me to?” Taking out the dark green cloth from his jean pockets, he's already twisting in his seat to wipe it clean.

“Please,” you ask softly, hands sliding down to make space for him.

Your hand never left the wheel while he cleans it for you. John's seatbelt is unclasped so he could have more movement, his face is close to your vision, warmth blanketing over you. He's so close that you can smell his cologne, it's a different one from yesterday, it's more flowery with a hint of mint. You spot a hidden mole under his ear. A tiny dot that is just begging to be poked.

Without thinking, you press softly with the pad of your finger. He yelps, flinching away instinctively. Looking at you with wide eyes and mouth agape, you're ready to be called a nasty nickname, or be cussed out with a loud voice. Instead of what you're anticipating, a laugh bellows out, a rumbly laugh that makes you smile and let out an almost silent chortle.

“I think you found my mole.” John holds the side of his neck with a grin. “You let your urges get to you, love.”

“Sorry,” you keep your eyes on the road to hide your embarrassment.

“It's fine, your hand was just cold. Ask me next time, I have a few more cute moles on me.”

“Nevermind, you ruined it.” With a roll of your eyes and a smile, you park at the coordinates. “Nice acting back there, I see an Emmy nomination for you in the future.”

“Thanks, I barely remember what I said. You sure this is the place?” John peeks at the map pulled up on your phone. “Shit, we're here.”

The entire street is suburban, large colonial houses lining the sides, tall pine trees decorate the sidewalks. There's not a lot of people walking by, save for a couple pedestrians walking their dogs, the place is devoid of people.

“What now?” You unclasp your seatbelt to twist around in your seat so you could observe the neighborhood.

“Hihi told us to bring it here, so maybe we should—?” John lets out a high pitched scream that also has you yelling in surprise, not from whatever made him shriek but from the sound that escaped him. “What the fuck!”

Leaning slightly to look at what had his knickers in a bunch, you stare blankly at a bespectacled man in a bespoke suit. The man gives you and your partner an apologetic look, he points for John to open the window.

He turns towards you with an eyebrow raised. “Should I?”

“Yeah, I think you should.”

“What if he's got a gun?” He whispers.

“We also have guns, John. I'll cover you, don't worry. Maybe this is what hihi asked us to do.”

“Easy for you to say, you're not the one opening it.” He gives you a glare before rolling the window down an inch. “Hi, mate. What can we do for you?”

“The car,” the stranger points a lengthy finger at the wheel. His voice is crackly and gravelly, like he just smoked a pack of cigarettes before he went up to the car. “You're late, but that doesn't matter. How much do I owe you, folks?”

“Uh, the usual.” You say with fake confidence.

“Good,” the lean man straightens up, “mind gettin’ out of the car then?”

“Right, sorry, bruv.” John, gives you one look before exiting the car. He's nervous and so are you.

As the doors shut, the man flexes his open palms expectantly for the keys, to which you hand off immediately. He gives you bad vibes, maybe your intuition tells you to run for the hills.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I'll wire the money to the usual account.” The nickname sends shivers down your spine.

He closes the door and starts up the car. With a splutter of the exhaust, he slowly drives away. You and John watch, standing side by side in the middle of the street in confusion.

“He was weird, right? Not to mention it was too easy.” You turn your head to look at him. “Maybe they're trying to ease us in?”

“It was all weird, not just him—” A blast coming from the car interrupts him, the sheer force of it sends you two down on the rough pavement.

Your cheeks are incredibly warm from the searing heat of the bomb. The light from it blinds the two of you.

Palms skinned, trousers slashed at the knees, your ears ring loudly like an annoying buzz from a broken microphone. Coughing loudly, smoke fills your lungs, debris is scattered around the once pristine neighborhood. There's blood on the concrete, you can't hear John calling for you, your vision is blurred by the cloud of smoke. His hand reaches for you, and your instincts tell you to run.

“Fuck!” He yells, running beside you at full speed. “What the fuck!”

“Keep running!” You yell as he turns around to check on a woozy you. “I'm fine!”

Someone behind you screams for you to stop so you and your partner run faster. Knees aching, thighs burning, you don't stick around to look who's running after you. The unmistakable click of a gun’s safety is loud in your eardrums, even if your lungs threaten to give out, you sprint right next to John as he turns a corner and into a carwash.

The smell of soap and heavy pine scented car freshener hits your bloody nose. He tugs you towards the plastic curtains and inside what you presume as the employee lounge, someone yells after you but it falls on deaf ears as you and John continue your escape.

Exiting the establishment, the metal doors open to a messy alleyway. Boxes upon boxes of trash and god knows what are littered all around. The pungent smell makes you want to hurl, or maybe that's the adrenaline having a weird effect on your stomach.

You two find reprieve for a second, huffing, trying to get oxygen back in. Hands on your aching thighs, the concrete below you slowly turns crimson as your mysterious injury drips precious blood on the messy ground.

“You're bleedin’” He says in between inhales. There's rustling of fabric next to you, and you feel the warm cloth placed on your forehead.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Waving the drenched cloth away, you scoff lightly. “Don't.”

“What am I supposed to do? Let you bleed?”

You stand up straight, blood coating your lashes as you stare at him. “I've got a better idea.” Placing your palms on the source of the pain, you let your blood coat it.

“What—?” You roughly smudge the warm ichor all over his face and shirt, the plain white of his t-shirt turns a dark pink shade with your touch. Leaning away, he gives you a slow nod of understanding. “Ease us in, huh?”

“I'm rarely wrong and this is one of the rare instances.”

“Let's hope you're right about this one.”

—

You kick the backdoor open with ferocity. It bangs loud against the wall, getting the restaurant staff's attention.

“Help please! My husband!” John's limp arm is around your shoulders, your hand gripping on to his waist to add that one detail that would convince them of your innocence. “There was a bomb!” You don't let the bystanders touch you or John whilst you quickly lumber through their dinghy bathroom. There's murmurs and chairs scraping on the tiled floors as you lock the door behind you.

The bathroom is small, tiles yellowed from the years, the stench of bleach itching your nose. The lightbulb above you whirs like it's about to burst out. He leaves your side to take off his bloodied jacket, tossing it outside from the window— his exit, you presume.

“Your phone.” He holds his empty hand out to you, when you only raise an eyebrow at him, he sighs, eyes turning soft, adrenaline melting out of his system. “Please, c’mon, love, you got me sayin’ please and shit.”

“What for?” You try desperately to wipe the blood off your face.

“To contact you, just in case you need help.”

“I can handle it.”

“I know you can, how else did you get the job then? Just let me,” his voice wavers a bit but he corrects himself with a timed clear of his smoke filled throat. “Please, Jane.”

After pausing, you take your phone out from your pocket to give it to him. He enters his number after seeing your home screen of a basic mountain range.

“There.” Giving the phone back, you expected him to give his too, but he doesn't as he's already halfway out of the window. “I'll see you at home?”

You let out a chuckle, “yeah, I'll see you at home.” He gives you one last smile as he exits the small bathroom and into the streets where numerous sirens go off from ambulances and fire trucks.

—

It was a blur the entire trip home, you bought a loose hoodie from a thrift store and then promptly discarded your blood soaked coat in the bottom of a dumpster. It was a shame though, you liked that coat, it had real wool in the lining. The uber drive was thankfully uneventful, if the driver noticed the remnants of dried blood on your skin he didn't mention it. You gave him five stars for it.

An empty house greets you, John's shoes are nowhere to be seen in the hallway, nor his jacket. You worry for a second, mind rushing through possibilities. The rubber band burns as you pull it back and release it with a harsh thwack against your skin.

The water is cool as you shower, your blood mixing in and pooling around your feet and into the drain like a macabre whirlpool. You don't let your mind wonder about the man that you turned into a street pancake. Instead, you focus on yourself in the mirror.

You stare at the gash near your hairline, the skin around it is angry, leaving a throbbing sensation. There's also a few scratches on your face, especially around your chin. Your main concern is the large gash. It doesn't look like it needs to be stitched together though, which is a good thing since you don't have the energy to even tend to the tiny scratches on your palms. Cleaning and bandaging the wound, you put on clean pajamas and head to bed.

You stop in your tracks when you see John lying face down on your bed. Still in his iron soaked clothes, save for the jacket. You glare at his boot, it's off the bed but you still grit your teeth at the thought of it grazing your bedsheets.

He senses your presence, and he lifts his head up, chin helping prop himself up. “Your bed is better than mine.” His multi coloured eyes are laced with exhaustion, dull yet there's still a spark when he looks at your annoyed gaze.

“Who are you? Goldilocks?”

“Yeah, I ate your porridge too.”

“Damn, not my porridge.” Too tired to fight him, you slither into bed next to him, an arm's length away from his equally tired body. Staring at the ceiling, you feel his eyes on you. “What's up with your eyes?”

“It's called heterochromia—”

“I know what it is, I'm asking why you're staring at me like you're about to devour me.”

“I could devour you if you want.” He says nonchalantly but with the charisma of a man who knows what he's talking about.

“Maybe next time.” You blindly pat his shoulder which ended up with you patting his cheek. He hums at your touch, a deep rumble that you felt through the mattress. “Not bad for our first day huh?” Lifting your hand away, he twists on the bed to mirror your position. Now you're both gazing at the beige ceiling like it owes you money.

You're tired but for some reason you're fighting off the sandman from sprinkling sand in your heavy eyes.

“I lied back there, I've killed before.” His voice is merely above a whisper but you heard it as loud as a trumpet blaring in your ears.

“I know, you wouldn't be here if you haven't.” You answer with empathy. “If it makes you feel better, I've been to London before. Twice, on a family trip and a decade later…on vacation.”

“Glad to know.” He taps the inside of your elbow as a thank you for trusting him. “You CIA?” He blurts out above the comfortable silence.

“God no.” You truthfully say.

“And here I thought you're an alumni of the culinary institute of America.”

For the first time in years, you let out the loudest laugh you could muster. Snort and all.

Your ‘husband’ joins in with his own rambunctious laughter, the bed shakes at the loud guffaws. The happy sound fills the room, and your heart feels like it isn't as heavy as before. It's still there, the heaviness, but it isn't as cumbersome. You now realize that you've only snapped the rubber band on your wrist a couple times today.

An annoying tapping sound interrupts you both. Simultaneously sitting up by the elbows, you two tilt your head at the intruder.

“It's that pigeon again.” You actually smile at the thought of the same bird coming back to your house like a white strand of hair that keeps growing even after you've pulled it out. “I think we should name him. Something like Terry or Flanders.” You chuckle softly.

“Jeff.”

You shake your head. “Nope, doesn't suit him, what if it's a she?”

“His name is Jeff.” John turns to look at you, eyes full of certainty.

You turn to him, blinking rapidly in realization. “He's yours. He's your bird, isn't he?”

“You are insightful.” He smiles, a soft one that fills you with endearment that you haven't felt in years. “Met him a few months ago, fed him once and now he wouldn't leave me alone. I guess he followed me here too.”

“Y’know, pigeons are really smart, kinda like crows. He probably thinks you're his daddy.”

“Does that make you Jeff's mummy?”

“I don't want to be Jeff's mom.” Said bird taps on your window again, like he senses that you're currently talking about him.

“Too bad,” he raises his marriage finger, showing you the gold band. “He's our kid, love.”

You smile, hiding it with a huff and by laying back down with a gentle thump.

“Can I tell you somethin’?” His face pops up in your vision, you nod in place. “My real name is—”

“Let me stop you right there.” You sit back up, almost hitting his head with your own at how fast you sat. “There's a reason why they gave us fake names. Whether we like it or not, It's John,” You point at him. “And Jane Smith.” You point at yourself. “Until they dismiss us, that's our names. Not whatever you were about to tell me.”

“But you know it's not our names, right?”

“Of course I do. You don't look like a John, John.”

“And you don't look like a Jane. I just…” He sighs. “Just want someone to know my real name. We almost died back there, what if we stayed a minute longer inside that car? What then? I don't want to die with someone else's name written on my grave.” His words are genuine, but it sounds like he has said these words before.

Still, you sympathize with him. You've gone undercover before, taken someone’s name instead of yours for months. Those missions were so long and tiring that you almost forgot your own name. But it was…survivable because he was with you. John has no one, and this time you have no one. No one that calls your real name, no one that can identify your body if you suddenly croak in the middle of a mission.

No one else but John and Jane Smith.

So with bated breath, you give him the go ahead. “Okay, tell me. But I can't promise that I'll call you by that name.”

“Don't want to get in trouble with hihi?”

“No,” you scoff. “I don't give a shit what that robot says. I just don't want to die with a stranger's name. So fuck it, tell me yours and I'll mine.”

He smiles the same smile that he gave you before he went out of that dinky bathroom window. The smile that reassures you, a smile that tells you everything will be alright.

“It's Hobie,” Hobie finally says. “Hobie Brown.”

“It suits you better. Thought it was Jeff.” You whisper, and you give him your real name. The same name you were born with, not the fabricated ones your former agency has given you, not the ones your new company has given you.

He whispers back your name, tongue rolling off it like honey. Then, Hobie smiles again, nodding and those heterochromatic eyes bore into you comfortably like the sun's rays kissing your skin in the summer.

“You look like one. Definitely suits you better than Jane.” You smile shyly as you lose the fight against sandman.

In Hobie's mind, he hopes that knowing your real name is enough, enough to keep you alive, enough of an incentive for him to keep you safe, since you're not just a typical Jane anymore that the company randomly selected for him, no, you're Y/N L/N, and he'll do anything to protect you better. Because maybe, just maybe, knowing your real name this early would work, and you'll outlive all the Janes that he himself has outlived.

As you fall asleep next to him, he stares at Jeff the third. In that luxurious house, within those bulletproof walls, and in your room lies a deep anger in him. An anger that keeps him sane in all those years trying to pay his debt. He needs to end the cycle, not just for him but for all the agents that are in the same shoes as him. For now he lets you sleep soundly, for now, he plots the demise of the people behind the screen.

The laptop flashes a new message from the company.

> Mission complete: 3 fails remaining

> Good job, next mission?

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A/N: thank you for reading!!! Please consider reblogging if you liked it ❤️❤️❤️

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general, kinda major character death !!!, character lowkey brutally murdered,, but like deserved so 🤷‍♂️, two minor character deaths

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CHAPTER EIGHT ▪︎ DO YOU BELIEVE IN ANGELS? (8.4k)

"What's he doing all the way out here?" You question, leaning over Seungmin's shoulder to take a closer look at the radio; as if that will help you hear better. "We're pretty far from our QZ, none of our patrol routes even go this way."

"Maybe they changed it." Seungmin suggests. "We haven't been there in half a year, things could be different now. And we don't really know where we are right now in relation to any zone. And we both know he gets special privileges because of his sister."

You snort at this, knowing he's right. "True, but it's still weird."

"...and that concludes the music portion for today since I apparently didn't bring much with me. I could freestyle-"

"Noooo." Someone else groans and you immediately recognize Squad Leader Seo. "Don't, please, I'm begging you. Spare me, spare the listeners."

"Fine, but only because you might take this away from me..." Changbin huffs. "Now for the mandatory shit the QZ is making me say- sorry, now it's time to stay informed. We're looking for two young women named Lily Morrow and Choi Lia, preferably alive-"

"Definitely alive."

"-definitely alive. Lily more than Lia, as she's the head scientist in all this."

"You're going to get put off the air if you say too much, you know that right?"

"Yeah, yeah. They've been spotted in a town southwest of Lake Haven, which is where we're headed now. If anyone-"

Static fills the air, crackling loudly in your ears. Seungmin tries to regain the signal, but the crackling stops and the lights die out.

"Shit." Seungmin exhales, giving the side a smack. Nothing.

"At least we kind of have a lead of where to go?" You shrug.

"They'll be gone by the time we get there," Seungmin says, looking up at you. "With the time you need to fully heal-"

"I'm healed enough! I just won't like, do anything crazy, okay? I promise." There's absolutely no way Seungmin believes you, but he nods. "I'll even stay in the truck if you ask nicely."

"Fuck that." Seungmin scoffs. "We both know the only way you'd stay put is if both your legs were broken."

Laughter fills the small space. After trying a bit longer to get the radio back up and working, Seungmin finally gives up and you both climb back up the wobbly metal ladder. The sun is starting to come up and although you can't see it rising, you can see the sky beginning to light up and the morning dew on the overgrown grass in the yard. You walk over to the sliding doors, taking a moment to image what it would be like in its prime; the grass cut neatly, lawn chairs clean, save for sand particles that would have come off the bodies that have sat in them, boats on the water, and music coming from your neighbours cottages. You'd be standing here with a mug of hot coffee in your hand, maybe a friend or a lover by your side, gazing out on life, not the abandoned landscape this lake has become.

When you turn around, you see Seungmin already showing Chan down the hole, Han and Felix standing slightly further away. Chaeryeong gives you a small wave as she comes down the small staircase, Jeongin not too far behind. The only one missing is Hyunjin, and you know it's because of how late you two went to bed, so you take it upon yourself to wake him.

Entering the room, you see he's face down on the bed, his arm stretched out and seemingly searching for something. Hearing you enter the room, Hyunjin shifts enough to peak over his shoulder and sees you.

"Hey," He says, voice rough with sleep. "Time to get up?"

You sit on the bottom of the bed and he twists his body to curl around yours, his head finding your lap and arm wrapping around your back. As much as you want to stay here in this moment with him, you know you might not have much time before Lily and Lia leave town.

Judging from the map plastered above the radio, you estimate it should take about forty minutes to get there. By then, there will be a strong military presence and you'll have to be extra careful. Even if the radio wasn't dead, you'd have no way to figure out where exactly the two women are hiding out or the state they're in. Lily wouldn't make the mistake of reaching out twice, not when she's being hunted this way.

"Let's go, there's something we need to show you."

-

In no time, you're on the road again. Everyone has fresh clothes and are patched up to the best of Felix and Jeongins abilities, canned food stored in the back of the truck for later. You're having breakfast on the road, dried meat and berries picked from a neighbouring cottages bushes. Felix suggested fishing, but there was no time. The good nights sleep helped you, but you're still sore as Chan drives over bumpy roads. Somehow you made it through the night nightmare-free, but you can't say the same for Chan. The circles under his eyes are darker than the evening before, a hand frequently coming up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Halfway through the drive, he has to switch with Hyunjin. He's taken a place next to you sitting in the middle of the backseat and you wordlessly bring his head down to your shoulder. Chan sighs, eyes fluttering shut and a hand finding your knee.

Seungmin is in the front next to Hyunjin, still trying to rediscover Changbin's station, but with no luck. By this time he's probably made it into town and is helping the others search. The reality of seeing Changbin again hits you suddenly, tensing at the thought of potentially having to fight him if you're caught. Out here, there shouldn't have been any chance of seeing your old friends, if you can even call him that. You didn't know him as well as Seungmin did, so you can only imagine what he might be thinking. Then again, you know they didn't always get along either, so maybe he's hoping for a chance to punch him in the face.

"We're almost there," Hyunjin announces. "I'm gonna pull over here, otherwise they'll spot us."

There are a couple of nods and 'okay's as he pulls over into a shady spot between some trees, driving deep enough to hide the truck, but not too deep you'll have trouble finding it later. You wake Chan up with a small nudge, but he still startles and almost hits his head on yours.

"Sorry, I-" You hold your free hand up.

"Don't apologize." You say, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. "I get it."

"Thank you, Y/n," He gives you a tired smile, exiting the truck behind you.

The air is getting colder, crisper. Fall is in full swing now and you're not sure what it will be like come winter, but you're hoping you've found Hannah by then and will be well on your way back to your little village. Leaves crunch underfoot as you walk parallel to the road, following it into town. It's bigger than you expected, greeted by a small shopping center and a grocery store on the edge of town. There are infected wandering around the parking lots, so you keep your distance. There has to be a way to figure out where Lily and Lia are hiding, some sign...

"There!" Chaeryeong stage-whispers when you enter a more residential area. Up ahead is a house with a broken window and what looks to be a lab coat laid over the windowsill. You recognize it as Lily's, the way it's patched in the middle to make it shorter and easier to wear. You're about to approach when you hear whistling.

"Get down!" Seungmin warns.

You stay where you are, right beside an abandoned postal van with Chaeryeong beside you. Felix is close enough that he joins you, crouched low by the bumper. You don't know where Seungmin called from, lost somewhere in the tall grass. The cover is probably better than whatever you're doing.

"In there!" The shout is distant, but you stay alert.

Two soldiers emerge from the side of a house across the street and you duck down further, your stomach almost on the ground. You think you recognize one of them, but they're too far to tell. One investigates the window as the other kicks the door down, gun back up in seconds. She enters the house, her partner following suit. No one from your group moves, all sitting ducks waiting for the soldiers to reemerge. When they don't, you take it upon yourself to move forward.

"Y/n!" Chan scolds as you move past him in the grass; your head whips toward his voice. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Entering the house. I can take them both out." You defend. "If Lily and Lia are in there, we need to get to them first."

"Let me go with- shit." Chans head perks up, and you follow his eyes to see Han already hopping the fence surrounding the house. "Damn it, just- go after him and don't die. I'll go around back with Felix and meet you inside, okay?"

"What about the others?" You ask, knowing they won't like getting left behind.

"Hey, I know that face, and no one is being left out." Chan frowns. "I'll send the others to check out other houses in the area in case they already left this one. Now go!"

You do as he says, hurrying toward the house. Han is inside now, but you can see him through the window looking into the living room with Lily's lab coat. Hopping through the empty space, you clear your throat just loud enough for him to hear. He flinches, but when he sees it's you, he relaxes again.

"You go up and I'll check this floor out?" Han proposes.

"Sure." You nod.

The stairs are broken halfway up, a large gap you'd have to jump over and create more noise than you want to standing in your way. You're about to just do it, but when you look into the kitchen, you can see where the floor above has collapsed, partially on top of the island. Climbing onto the countertop, you're able to glance up and find yourself in what looks like the master bedroom, one foot of the bed hanging over the edge of the hole you're now pulling yourself up from.

Right as you enter, so does one of the soldiers. She trains her gun on you, but then her eyes widen with recognition. Ryujin subconsciously brings her rifle down, mouth hanging open as you stare back at her. Part of you puts the pieces together- the whole of Squad 14-4 must be here, possibly along with your own, Squad 14-3. Why didn't you think of that before? Why would Squad Leader Seo be here with only Changbin, not her whole squad? And you already know her and Minho like to work together.

"I'm sorry Y/n." It's like Ryujin remembers her role in this, raising her gun back up and your hands follow. "We got a live one!"

"Shit, I'm sorry too Ryu."

And you're leaping at her, pushing the tip of her gun away as she shoots. There's a grunt, and you panic before you see her fellow soldier falling to the ground. You don't know him, and temporary relief floods you before you're kicked back to the ground. Normally you'd be back on your feet in an instant, but Ryujin managed to kick where your bruises are darkest, and you find you can't move. She aims her rifle at your face and you curse yourself; you're not dying at the hands of the military, you're either kicking it from old age or doing it yourself. Fuck this world trying to kill you, you'll show it who's boss.

Ignoring the hot pain in your side, you launch yourself forward and grab Ryujin around the waist. This throws her off enough to drop her weapon behind you, landing on her back with a cough. Her hands are pinned under your knees as you straddle her, landing a swift punch to her now bleeding nose. One of her hands wriggles free and she grabs your neck tightly, rolling you over and switching positions.

"I thought-" You wheeze, fingers trying to dislodge hers. "-you were loyal-"

"I barely know you," She grips tighter. "And you made me shoot my friend."

Black dots swim in the corners of your vision and your fighting is becoming weaker as all air leaves you, but you keep going. You refuse to let her win, to let them win. There's only a split second where you consider letting go, the black dots nearly taking up your vision, but something knocks Ryujin to the side and you're able to take a deep breath, coughing and wheezing as you roll onto your side. Drool drips from your lips as you heave, a wave of dizziness hitting you when you try and move onto your back. A gun shot sounds behind you, triggering your survival instinct, and you find yourself able to move without thinking.

Han stands in the doorway, his sniper rifle still by his eye. Your eyes wander to the target, and you spot Ryujin's body slumped over, her legs still straddling yours and a hole in the middle of her forehead dripping dark, red blood. As soon as his weapon drops, Han is by your side checking you over. No doubt deep, purple bruises already forming around your neck with how tightly she held you, his fingers gingerly brushing over the tender skin. You can see the worry in his eyes, trying to offer a smile to reassure him as you continue to cough.

"Can you speak?"

"Yeah of cour-" You're interrupted by another violent cough to contradict what you were trying to say.

"Let me send you back out there. Go find the truck and wait for us," Han tries to help you up, but you pull away at his suggestion.

"No-" You wheeze, breathing carefully as to not upset your throat.

"Don't argue with me for once," Han whines and makes another attempt to help you, but you push yourself back up on wobbly legs.

Clearing your throat, you just shake your head. If you can't talk, you won't, simple as that. You can still fight, even if you're slightly unbalanced. When you exit the room, you come out next to the stairs and there's another gunshot. Suddenly, you're yanked back and pressed against someone's chest as the bullet grazes the bridge of your nose. If you focus hard enough, you could probably feel Han's heart beating against your back with how hard it's racing.

"Close call," You whisper, out of breath.

"I thought you couldn't talk." Han comments.

"Up there!" Comes a voice from below. "Through the kitchen!"

They probably heard the shots Han fired and came running. You didn't see how many were coming inside when you were shot at, but you assume at least another group of two or three. Across from the room you're in is another bedroom, and probably your only way out. You can't go back down through the kitchen, that's where they're going to climb up, and you caught a glimpse of the collapsed roof blocking off the rest of the upstairs.

"Here's the plan," You whisper hoarsely, detaching from Han; seems you really can't shut up. You can hear the soldiers climbing. "We're going to run into the other bedroom and block the door somehow so they can't follow, okay? Then hopefully there's a window in there we can exit through and meet up with the others."

"What about Lily and Lia?" Han asks.

"Clearly they're not in here-"

"Freeze!" One soldier has entered the master bedroom and is standing at the edge of the broken floor.

"Ready?" You look at Han in the eyes and he nods. "Now."

The soldier is shouting something behind you and there's gunfire hitting the doorway right as you pass through. You duck down in front of the stairs, not making the same mistake as before, and another bullet just barely hits you, leaving a streak of blood on your forehead just above your eyebrow. Scrambling to the other side with Han close behind you, you make it into the other room and slam the door shut. Han starts pushing a dresser over and you help, grabbing the other side and heaving it in front of the door. You're almost there when it swings open, hitting the dresser. Without thinking, you take a knife from the sheath on your thigh and aim at their arm, forcing them to stumble back out of the doorway. Once the dresser is in front, there's only loud banging from the other side.

There's a moment of silence where you and Han share a look, preparing to head out of the window behind you when more gunfire sounds and you both drop flat to the ground. Holes paint the wooden door and walls as you shuffle your way to the opposite side of the room, waiting for the perfect moment to slip outside. When there's a pause in the shots- you assume they're reloading- you signal Han to get out first. By some dumb luck, there's a tree branch hanging down in front of the broken glass he can hang onto, making his way to the trunk and sliding down. You have to wait a few more minutes before joining him, more gunfire destroying the barrier between you and however many soldiers stand behind that wall. You wince as you vault over the windowsill, hands almost slipping as you grip the thick branch, and a wave of pain shoots down your side. Swinging your legs up, you're able to shuffle your body so your stomach is lying on the branch now, taking a moment to breathe. Sweat beads on your brow bone, the pain throbbing, but you power through and make your way to where Han is waiting at the bottom.

From here, no one should be able to see you. You're at the back of the house in a deep, overgrown backyard, the long grass providing cover. There's a big wooden porch directly in front of you, but the back door of the house is blocked by furniture from the inside, obscuring the view outward. You're about to turn away from the house and try to find the others, but as your eyes start to drift away, you spot double doors underneath the porch on an angle and grab Han's arm before he can move away.

"Were there stairs leading down anywhere on the main level?" You ask, eyes glued to the doors. There's a heavy metal lock on the stone base and a huge rock right next to it.

"No, why- oh," Han follows your sightline. "Do you think...?"

"We should check."

Moving quickly and quietly, you crouch your way to the doors and open up one side just enough to get through. Shutting the door, you're engulfed by nearly complete darkness, the slightest bit of sunlight peeking through the cracks of the wood panels making up the entrance. The stairs downward creak loudly under your boots as you make your way into this large, hidden space underneath the house made up of a dirt floor and stone walls, colder than the rest of the house was. As you step onto the soft earth, you reach a hand back to stop Han from continuing. In the corner is a large figure shaking; in this light you can't tell what it is, cold sweat covering your body as you realize- you didn't see any bodies in the house. Either the family evacuated or...

A loud whimper is accompanied by the figure jolting, followed by some kind of soothing whispers. Inching your way toward the corner, you see it's actually two figures, and they're not infected. It doesn't take long to realize who you're looking at- Lily has Lia in her lap wrapped in what looks like an old rug, and when her eyes snap up to meet yours, you can see the blood splattered across Lily's face.

"Tell me you have a medic with you," She pleads, and you notice just how pale Lia is, the way sweat glistens on her skin.

"No," You say, kneeling down next to her. "Just me and Han. The others are back outside looking around the neighbourhood for you two."

"I left my jacket so you would know which house we were in if you came along." Lily's voice is tired, hoarse. "She's not going to make it, is she?"

Pulling away the rug, you see two wounds on Lia; there's a bullet hole in her chest, inches away from her heart, and the marks of a dog bite on her thigh still oozing blood. Her chances aren't likely and you're realistic, but the look on Lily's face makes you want to lie and say there's still a chance, maybe if you got to Felix or Jeongin quick enough, but you know she'll be able to see through your lie, if your hesitation hasn't said enough already.

"No," You admit, laying a hand over Lilys which is still clutching onto Lia's side. "No, she won't. I'm sorry Lily." You don't fail to notice the way Lia's breathing has gotten shallower. "We have to get you out of here, okay? Bring you to safety."

"I'm not leaving her," Lily says firmly.

"You have to," You say softly. "There's no choice. We either leave you here and let them discover you, or you let us help you. Why do they need you so badly anyway? What did you ever do to warrant this kind of special attention?"

"You know I'm a scientist, but what you don't know is that I'm like you," She looks at you as you shift onto your knees in front of her; you have a feeling she has a lot to say. "I was in a quarantine zone for most of my life being trained by the best of the best... my parents. They were a part of the original group in this area trying to find a cure for the zombie virus, or whatever it is. After they passed, it was up to me, and they had really high expectations of me and I... I got close."

"What?" Han finally emerges from where he's been sitting on the steps in the dark. "Close to the cure? Why'd you stop?"

Lily shakes her head at him. "You wouldn't understand, not like Y/n. Those people are horrible and corrupt. They'd keep the cure for themselves and only give it to those who they think deserve it. I couldn't let them do that, so I left with all my research that I could carry with me. That was three years ago."

"How'd you stay under the radar for so long?" You ask, eyebrows knitting together.

"I faked my death?" Lily laughs wearily. "One of my friends was in a squad that tracked me down and cornered me in a school I was hiding out in. She let me go, told the others some infected got to me. There were so many roaming around I guess they just... believed her. She's a good soldier, trusted. After that, I was free to run far away. I ran into Lia pretty soon after, then met the rest."

"If you didn't call for help in the hospital they never would have found you," Han states. "Why'd you do it?"

"My combat skills are... limited." She looks away, a blush creeping up her face. "Lia's a great fighter, and San is- um, was, too, but there were too many even for them. I knew it was risky, but I'd rather fight my way out of a quarantine zone again than a horde of flesh-eating monsters."

She doesn't talk for a while. You look down at Lia; her breathing has completely stopped. Lily is tucking a strand of hair out of her pale face, cupping her cheek and whispering something in her ear before gently placing her body on the dirt floor. Beside you, Han is silent.

"It would be selfish of me to stay here and let them find me when she died for this cause," Lily says with a new fire. "And I can't let Hannah die because I'm stubborn."

Your eyes widen at her unknown confession. "Did you say Hannah?"

"Is that important?"

"Very," You say, unable to hide your smile as you look at Han, whose eyes are wider than yours.

-

It's surprisingly easy to avoid getting spotted as you sneak through the backyard and start to head back to where Hyunjin hid the truck. As you weave through the long-abandoned houses, you peek inside for any signs of your friends. Up ahead, you see a familiar figure dashing between two parked cars and signal Han to wait in the alley you're walking through. Following where you saw the person head, you enter a small dance studio. She's standing with her back to you, hand trailing one wall.

"Chaeryeong." You whisper when you're close enough to her and she jumps, making you laugh. "Where's Jeongin? Hyunjin? Hell, even Chan and Felix? Those two were supposed to meet with me and Han in that house."

"I got separated from Jeongin." She huffs, leaning against a wooden bar sticking out from the wall. There's a small cut on her neck, but other than that and some dirt, she looks unscathed. "Hyunjin ended up going with the other two, but I don't know what happened after Jeongin and I left you guys. I hope he's okay. I hope they're all okay."

Worry is written all over her face and she hugs herself subconsciously. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, you try and reassure her.

"I'm sure they're fine, they know how to take care of themselves." You squeeze her in hopes of comforting her. "The back of that house was blocked off, so they might have tried to find another way in and we missed them."

"Yeah, yeah." Chaeryeong's head turns to yours. "You're right. Besides-"

"Hands up!"

You freeze, the hair on the back of your head sticking up. That voice is familiar, but you can't place it until you turn around and see Officer Song staring back at you with five more soldiers behind him. He scoffs, approaching you carelessly, and you have half a mind to grab the knife from your hip and stick it in his chest.

"We meet again." He announces. "What are you doing, always interfering the way you do? You both know all the actual rebels are long dead, right?"

He's referring to their parents, you know it. As far as you know, everyone you've met were born into the rebellion against how the government handled the apocalypse, save for Hyunjin and Jeongin and now you and Seungmin too.

Rough hands grip your arm closest to him, dragging you away from Chaeryeong and throwing you to the ground; as if you don't have enough bruises. You watch from the floor as another soldier grabs onto Chaeryeong and disarms her, all of Officer Song's attention laser-focused on you. With him crouched in front of you, you're having a sense of deja vu, only this time you still have a weapon that seems to have gone unnoticed. In a flash, your hand is on the knife and swinging at Officer Song, landing a blow into his shoulder. He grunts and falls back, but is up again in seconds and grabbing you under the chin.

"You little bitch," He seethes, and you can see blood seeping through his army green shirt. "You think you can get away with that? How do you feel about never seeing your little friends ever again?"

Unable to respond with words, you gather saliva in your mouth and spit directly at his face. He throws you back down to wipe his face with the bottom of his shirt and stands. In the background, Chaeryeong is still fighting the hold of both the soldiers holding her against the wall by her arms, legs flailing up and hair falling into her face. Her teeth are bared as Officer Song walks past her, not even sparing her a glance, with your knife still stuck in his body. He makes some sort of hand gesture and suddenly there are two pairs of hands on you, lifting you up to a standing position.

"Send a squad to hunt the others down." He orders, turning around and making eye contact with you. "No one makes it out alive."

-

There's a dull pain in your left temple where you assume you've been hit, your eyes blinking open to a blurry cell door greeting you. You know where you are; the familiar musty smell of this quarantine zone's makeshift jail fills your nostrils as you begin to remember what happened. For a moment, panic overwhelms you, but then you spot Chaeryeong across from you, still out like a light. There's a faint bruise forming on her jaw. You're going to kill whoever hit her.

"Awake?" A voice from beside you asks and you turn your head to see someone you don't recognize waltzing in. "Can you hear me? I know my people did a number on you."

He smiles down at you and you don't answer.

"How about a name?" You still don't reply. "Stubborn, okay, I'll start. My name is Kim Hongjoong, but you can call me Captain Kim. You killed two of my soldiers and stabbed an officer, what do you think your punishment should be, hm?"

"Captain!" He doesn't spare a glance to whoever called for him from the door, just hums in response. "One of the squad leaders found some others, but they claim to be lost. Can you see to them?"

"I guess I should get going." Captian Kim exhales, his shoulders dropping. "I'll see you later, Y/n."

"How did you know-" But he's gone before you can finish your sentence, leaving you in your dimly lit, cold, cement cell.

There are a few hours between each visit from random cadets, something you remember having to do as a part of your training. Chaeryeong has woken up and you've both complained about the hard ground and the temperature. You know it's supposed to be uncomfortable and boring, but it still sucks major balls to be stuck in here with nothing to do. You wonder about the other people; you wonder about your people.

"Hey, Y/n? Can I ask you something?" Chaeryeong shuffles her way to the front of her cell, sitting with her legs crossed.

"What's up?"

"How did you know you had feelings for Hyunjin." You blush.

"That's what you're wondering right now? Not maybe how we're going to get out of this mess?" You laugh when she shrugs in response. "Why do you want to know?"

When she blushes and tries to brush off your question, you gasp.

"No," You say. "Who?!"

"No one! Forget I asked!" She puts her head in her hands and laughs louder, but it's cut short by the door opening.

A young cadet walks behind Captain Kim, three others following suit. When their faces come into the light, you fight to remain stoic. Walking with the Captain is none other than Han Jisung. Why isn't he being thrown in a cell right now? Why is he free to stand beside them and stare into your eyes like-

Then it hits you; he's playing a part. No one here besides you and Chaeryeong should know who he is. In the hospital, everyone but him and Chaeryeong were inside. Officer Song never saw him, Minho never saw him, nobody saw him. And your heart leaps at the thought of him here to rescue you.

"You don't recognize her?" Captain Kim asks, watching Han intently as he shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows.

"No, sir," He says dutifully, looking at him with the same confused eyes he was just looking at you with. Hell, if you didn't know better, you'd think he'd suffered from some kind of memory loss.

"You're sure?"

"Very."

"Alright... and her?" They turn around to Chaeryeong's cell and he shakes his head again, but you notice he's making a damn peace sign behind his back to you. "Very well. We'll have to take you in for further questioning before deciding what to do with you, I hope you'll understand."

"Of course, sir."

Captain Kim smiles at him, his profile somehow still lit sharply in the dim lights. "I like you... we'll make a soldier out of you."

Han salutes with a shit-eating grin on his face, but quickly turns it into fake sincerity.

"Aye-aye captain, I won't disappoint!" And you know he won't. Han will play the part to a T until he can get you two out of here and back on the road. You know how loyal he is to Chan and the others, there's no way he's actually considering this... and no way does he have you fooled as well, taking his disguise as well as he is.

How did Chan approve of this idiotic plan? One wrong move and he'll be found out, not only fucking up the chances of getting you out, but setting the group even further back in finding Hannah. Han casts you one last glance before the three leave the room, winking as he exits. Once the door shuts, you turn to Chaeryeong with wide eyes and she sighs.

"This is not going to end well..."

-

Whatever Han is doing seems to be working.

Over the next few days, he's in and out of the cells training just like you had once. On the first night, you had the realization that you still have your bobby pin and could easily pick the locks of both yours and Chaeryeong's cell doors, but she talked you out of the idea.

"We do that and they'll be all over us in seconds," She said. "There's no guarantee that this QZ is set up like yours and we're weaponless. Surely there's someone guarding this door as well, if not multiple someones?"

"Well, yeah..." You looked away from her, embarrassed.

"So we need a better plan than that." She gave you a sad look. "I'm sorry Y/n, I know I haven't been able to think of anything that would actually work and not end in our deaths either."

In the present, Han is crouched in front of your cell door and sticking his hand through the bars to poke at you. You open your eyes with a jolt, hands raising in defence, but immediately falling back to your lap when you see it's just him. Han retracts his hand, going to sit on his knees in front of you. You raise an eyebrow at him, prompting him to announce why he's sitting in front of you like you're friends.

"I have a plan," Han says, giddy. He bites his bottom lip to contain what you assume is excitement. "Not only can I get you both out of here, but we can also steal information regarding resources Lily might need for the cure. I've also heard rumours about some kind of zombie-free city? I bet you there's info about that too, I just haven't located it yet..."

"How are you gonna do that without being caught?" You ask, squinting your eyes at him.

"I've made friends." His smile grows wider.

"Friends...?" You eye him.

"Squad Leader kind of friends... maybe a specific one?" You sit up, clasping the bars in front of his face. "A certain man named Lee Minho who just so happens to be here on business?"

"You're fucking lying-" But it makes sense. Where Squad Leader Seo goes, he goes.

"I'm not!" He almost sounds offended. "Minho agreed to help cover me when I steal the plans tonight-"

"Tonight?"

"Tonight! Then, I'll come in here and bust you out when I'm on guard duty with Changbin. He's cool, by the way." Han stands up, and you do as well. "We're going to fake a fight and he'll let us slip out since apparently you two know each other and he feels he owes it to you for leaving you behind that day."

Your chest tightens. That day, the last day of being a cadet. You almost forgot he was there too.

"Anyway, there's a kind of secret underground tunnel thing going on in this QZ that we can use to get out," Han's voice quickens, knowing he's running out of time before someone comes in here. "I'll bring you both some kind of weapon if I can, but no promises. Once we leave through that door, we have to be faster than we've ever been before. I already ran this plan over with Chaeryeong while you were dozing."

Behind him, you can see her curled into herself with her eyes closed, breathing steady, and the occasional twitch. She's fixed her hair back into a low bun, only a few strands of black sweeping over her sleeping face. She looks like an angel.

"Okay." You turn your attention back to Han. "You want this plan to work? Get your butt back out there and do your job, or they'll start to get suspicious."

After Han leaves, you take some time pacing around your cell and ruminating his words. The plan is risky, but any plan in a place as secure as a quarantine zone would be. There's a lot of room for error and a ton of kinks to work out, but your heart is focusing on something much louder than what your mind needs to be thinking of; Minho. Why hasn't he come to see you if he's here? You assume you weren't supposed to find out since he's only helping Han technically. Will he find out you know? And if he does, will he come see you then? Or is him knowing you a danger to himself? If they connect him to you escaping both here and the hospital, what will happen to him? You don't let yourself think about it too much more, opting to sit and pick at the bars of your cell as a distraction.

-

Just over an hour later, Han is back at your cell with a ring of keys in his shaky hands. After a few tries, he drops the keys and you're on your feet in an instant, sticking your hand through the bars to grab his hand as he tries a new key. He's looking at you now, eyes darting toward the door as he attempts to even his breathing. You squeeze his hand, a way to reassure him that everything will be okay, even if you don't know that for sure.

"I think someone knows," Han blurts. "I think someone saw me sneaking out of Captain Kim's office with Minho."

"Then we need to hurry," You say, keeping your voice calm. "If they're onto us, we need to be able to get out of here before they can find us, okay? That means you have to calm down. I know it isn't easy, but you have to try."

He takes a deep breath, sticking the final key in the lock. A click sounds and your cell door swings open, allowing you to finally leave the cage you've inhabited over the last few days. Han quickly releases Chaeryeong and speeds over to the door, taking a look outside before opening it wider to let you two out ahead of him. Changbin is right outside and you jump at the sight of him.

"Thanks for the help," You say, avoiding eye contact as he leads you through the dark halls.

Changbin opens a door into what looks like a storage closet. "I owe it to you, and to Squad Leader Lee."

"Is he- how is he?" You pause, knowing you shouldn't.

"He's..." Changbin kneels down to push aside a threadbare rug to reveal a trap door not unlike the one in the cottage, easily opening it with one hand and stepping to the side. "He's surviving. Did he not-"

"Traitors."

The one word is enough to make you all turn around to see Officer Song staring at you with narrow eyes, red in the face. With a gun in one hand and some kind of hand-held radio in the other, he's calling for backup in no time. As he raises the weapon at your group, you're diving down the hole and running right when your feet hit the ground. You catch a glimpse of the others when you take a look behind you, seeing that Changbin has joined the escape. The tunnels are musty and rough, with hard dirt and clay making up the walls and ceilings. Multiple tunnels diverge from the one you're running down, but you continue to go straight with no real direction. You have no idea where you're going, only that you need to keep moving.

"Turn up there!" Changbin shouts from behind you; he's closer than the others, his footsteps catching up to yours.

Doing as he says, you turn right where the pathway curves, but you're met with a hard wall of a person, causing you to stumble backward. Han wasn't able to grab a weapon for you, so you raise your fists in defense. Past your hands, you make eye contact with Minho and freeze, spotting Squad Leader Seo behind him in your peripheral vision. There's still shouting behind you, but you can't move; the world has slowed and it's just you and him staring at each other.

"I guess there's no talking you out of this now," Minho says. "They're on your trail."

"Yeah," You say, barely breathing. "You should leave before they find you with us, both of you."

Squad Leader Seo shakes her head. "I'm not leaving my brother."

"Okay." You start walking again, then jogging. "There- a door!"

A heavy door sits at the end of the tunnel, but as you approach you notice the giant sign- DO NOT OPEN! INFECTED QUARTERS!

"I just had a genius idea," you say. There are two other pathways leading away from the door and you notice an arrow pointing down one side, signaling an alternate exit, which sparks a plan. "We need to get this thing open, then bolt, but we have to time this perfectly."

"Are you insane?" Squad Leader Seo moves past you, beginning down the other path. "We'll all get killed. Better to just get out while we still can."

"C'mon! Yeah, it's risky, so is this whole damn escape!" You throw your arms up in frustration. "It's going to open toward us, blocking us out of sight. Any infected behind that door are going to go for the people straight in front of them, aka, the people who want to kill us. They're already catching up, this'll buy us time!"

"I guess you have a point," She sighs. "But that door is heavy, it'll take all of us-"

"So we'd better get started, because it looks like they're here." Minho grabs the top of the large metal door handle, nodding his head to the end of the tunnel you came from.

Grabbing the bottom, you help him pull. Changbin comes between you, sweat beading on your brow bone from the effort. The door creaks and groans loudly as it opens and you can already hear hissing and growling from behind. Once it's about halfway open, it swings the rest of the way easily, stopping right where you thought it would. Next to you, Han and Squad Leader Seo are firing at the approaching soldiers, quickly stopping as the door shelters you from the fight about to begin. Using the door as cover, you take a minute to breathe. There are people shouting from beyond the door, mixing with the terrifying noises of the zombies you've unleashed upon them. When you hear a squelching sound, your feet move on their own away from fight.

At the end of the tunnel, there's a trap door leading up, rusty metal bars sticking out of the dirt wall to form a ladder. Minho goes first, placing a hand on your shoulder before you can head up. Distant growls and shooting become quieter as you climb up next, Chaeryeong following after you. Squad Leader Seo doesn't bother closing the trap door behind her, staring down into the darkness before walking toward the group.

The tunnel seems to have opened up a bit further than you'd have thought, right on the path of a worn patrol route. In the distance, you can see a few buildings signaling the beginning of a town, and you think it may be the same one you found Lily in. There's a road to your left and some woods right behind you, the trap door right at the tree line. From here, you can make your way back through or around the town and meet where the truck is supposed to be, if it's still there.

"Han, is the-"

Crack. The sound of a gunshot rings through the still air, the sound of a body dropping right by your feet; you're scared to see who it is. There are a few more clicks of a gun and a frustrated groan before you turn slowly to see a bloody and bitten Officer Song tossing an empty gun away. His body is halfway out of the trapdoor, one arm torn to shreds. Without medical attention, he'll bleed out, if he doesn't turn first.

"Traitors." Officer Song repeats his earlier words. Looking down, you see Changbin hovering over his sister's body, a hole in the center of her forehead. Lifeless eyes stare past you into the trees. "You had such potential."

Minho is gritting his teeth, to keep some choice words at bay you assume. His body is moving without thinking, stomping up to Officer Song and yanking his head back by the hair to look him in the eye. Watching as Minho glares down at the older man, you slowly approach. The level of hate in his eyes is something you've never seen before, almost scaring you like you're the one he's killing over and over again in his mind.

"Kill me," Officer Song taunts. "Coward."

The last straw, calling Minho a coward. A knife is at his throat in seconds, but you're holding his arm back before he can slice.

"Don't," You say, stern. "Drop the knife, Min, he's not worth it. Let him turn and suffer that pain. He deserves it."

There's a moment when Minho tries to tug his arm out of your grip, but you know he's not putting much strength into it. Slowly, his hand is back at his side, knife falling to the ground. With one last look, he spits at the ground by Officer Song. You're back to where Changbin has now picked up his sister, his eyes red and puffy as he avoids your gaze. Taking a deep breath, he nods and you start to lead the group across the road. You can hear Officer Song laughing behind you.

"Stupid girl."

"Y/n!" The sound of Chaeryeong's voice makes you spin around just in time to see the knife Minho left flying your way, but it doesn't hit you.

"No-" Chaeryeong collapses against you and you look over her shoulder; the weapon is embedded in her back, right between the wings on her graphic tee. "Chaer, no, why- why would you do that?"

You gently fall to the ground, cupping her face with one hand, the other around her waist to keep her up. Han has appeared by your side with a panicked look on his face, his own hands coming up to brush stray hairs away. There's a smile on her face as a tear falls from one of her eyes.

"I can't feel my legs." She gasps, the smile dropping for a second. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

"You're not going to die-" Han says, voice shaking, although you both know the truth.

"Don't lie to me Jisung," She looks at him and laughs, followed by a cough. "Not- not now. Please."

"Chaer, you can't die." Han's voice breaks, and you save him the humility of seeing him cry by focusing on the girl in your arms. "Y-you can't, you can't die. We'll save you, Felix and Jeongin will patch you up and save you like they did Hyunjin and-"

"Ji, I can't feel anything."

There's blood on her face from where you've trailed your fingers down her jaw, a small trickle coming from the corner of her mouth the next time she coughs. Although you haven't known her as long as the others, your heart aches severely watching the light fade from her eyes. Soon, she's motionless in your lap, angel wings painted a deep red. Your eyes make contact with the knife and anger consumes you, pulling it gently out of her back and standing up.

Officer Song is lying with his cheek to the ground, but you know he's still alive by the way his chest rises and falls. His eyes are closed until you kick him in the chest to make him lie flat, eyelids shooting open in pain. Before he can speak, your boot is on his neck hard. You crouch down, keeping your foot in place as you watch him smile.

"You think you're so fucking funny?" You hiss, voice laced with venom. "You won't be laughing when this knife is down your fucking throat."

Removing your foot, you drive the blade at the exposed skin of his neck and drag it down, blood flooding on either side of him. He's choking, one hand weakly trying to stop the bleeding. You see the life leave his face, the final twitch of his fingers; you can't stop staring until someone is pulling you away. Stumbling back, you let Minho bring you to the others. You can feel blood drying on your hands and face. Han is holding Chaeryeong, and you wish you'd have let Minho kill Officer Song.

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notes ▪︎ erm.. pls don't hate me 🙏

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