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sunnami · 4 months

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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders x reader. (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”

You blink.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say.

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”

“I know.” Harry grins.

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”

“Oi!”

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!”

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”

Harry’s eye twitches.

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.

“In your dreams!” You shrill.

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”

Harry nods. “Is it time already?”

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”

“One date, then.”

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.

“And I want to—”

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.

He falls in love.)

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.”

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

#hp angst #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader

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amberautumnfaebrooke · 11 months

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i think i could design a better death arena for children than those hunger games amateurs.

the whole premise of the games is all pageantry. every year you get a crop of 24 candidates around whom the entire state media apparatus dedicates an entire year to building celebrity narratives. this candidate is the younger sibling of last year's winner - these candidates are young lovers forced to compete - he's smart - she's fast - root for them, care about them, watch them, form opinions on them, bet on them. and then they stick them all in an arena to kill each other, which is a great entertainment premise, except that they make the arenas themselves really boring and generic. ooo, they're in...a forest.

it's not even an interestingly designed forest. imagine if the game designers treated their arena like an actual video game designer treats level design. discrete zones with multiple paths between each room, creative use of lighting to guide players to points of interest, points of interest scattered across the map, discoverable resources hidden to encourage exploration. instead they just have a generic outdoors location and if you get too close to the edge they throw a random fireball at you.

the 75th games are especially bad about this. the arena is laid out radially into 12 wedges, and each hour one wedge becomes especially dangerous in a 12-hour loop. as a mechanic, this is genius. it forces everyone to keep moving, making "survival by hiding" an engaging and tense viewing experience instead of someone sitting in a tree for three days. plus, it encourages players to return to the center of the arena, where travel time between wedges is short, which creates a high-value zone for players to regularly return to and conflict over. in other words, it's a mechanic which incentives players to adopt dramatic, dynamic, exciting behaviors which are entertaining to watch (not to mention it communicates geography to the audience well). but it only incentives those behaviors if the players understand what's happening, and they go out of their way not to tell the players anything! when they figure out what's going on, the showrunners spin the arena to disorient the players, like they're intentionally trying to get them to just. randomly wander the jungle instead.

this isn't even to mention how often they create undramatic, boring deaths. they plant poison berries around the arena. they supply no fresh water and no way to get it. they roll poison clouds over sleeping victims. these happen to work out in the books themselves but you have to imagine that extremely often these just result in players dying unexciting deaths.

the cardinal sin though, of course, is that nothing is done to personalize the arena for the crop of contestants that year. if i'm designing the 75th hunger games and two of my most beloved contestants famously had to cancel their wedding because of a return to the games, i would OBVIOUSLY give them a trail of, i don't know, wild game which conveniently leads directly past a well defended wedding chapel. will they hole up there for a while? hold a mock ceremony for themselves? do or receive ironic violence here? stare wistfully and move on? any of it is better television than getting attacked by generic attack monkeys. you should have a dozen of these things on the map for every single candidate. but the game makers are more interested in doing the same thing every other game has done than in telling a compelling story.

it makes me second guess enjoying the children's murder arenas at all.

#the hunger games #game design

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dante-mightdie · 16 days

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c/w: implications of violence and murder, mentions of abuse, slight dub-con but not really, nsfw

farmersdaughter!reader and farmhand!soap anyone? you’re a shy little thing, always greeting him with a wave and little smile every day until your father comes over and yells at you to get away from the window

he knows your father doesn’t treat you well, keeping you locked up in the house and treating you like a maid. johnny doesn’t like him one bit

which is why he gets rid of him. you know johnny had kind of a violent past, haven’t been a soldier in the war until he was discharged. so in the night he makes your dad disappear, whether he threatens him to get out of town or uses more permanent means, he’s gone

comforts you when you cry about being left alone, how you have no family and no husband to take care of you. johnny comforts you, coos in your ear and rubs a hand up and down your back when you came running to him in the barn, a goodbye note clutched in your trembling hand

let’s his hand wander up your skirt, your sniffles making his cock twitch in his jeans. you don’t resist when he places a few experimental pecks to your lips, his calloused hands cupping your cheeks. let’s his tongue flick out to touch yours when he realises you aren’t pushing him away

only when he ruts his clothed cock against your hip do you hesitate, “we can’t. if people found it, it’s improper, we aren’t married…” you all but whine, your lips millimetres from his

he chuckles, his thumb move up to rub your clit over your panties. your legs jolt out wider, a panting moan leaving your lips,

“dinnae need te worry, bonnie. I’ll have you wed and bred by the end of the week, no one’ll know…” he whispers, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips as he kisses you once more. his hand reaching out to grab yours and place it over his clothed erection before covering it with his own and making you squeeze it <3

#mw2 #cod mw2 #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #captain mactavish #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap #soap x reader

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palajae · 2 months

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my name. | nishimura riki

PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki! x reader

GENRE ▸ detective! au, fantasy! au, high school! au, s2ls, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN

WC ▸ 15.6k

SUMMARY ▸ you supposedly get transported to a different world, where you encounter niki. apparently, you already existed here. note: past tense. so now you’re stuck in an alternate universe and technically, you’re supposed to be dead.

AKA after facing the truth, you come to the realization that someone was definitely trying to kill you.

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of death!!!, a murder mystery/whodunit, profanity, mentions of suicide, depictions of murder, a few curse words, violence, blood, dead bodies, some gorey stuff, kissing, nothing too harsh, excuse any typos/misspellings...

wow... i can't believe it but it is finally out... it's been a long time coming lol. with losing several family members and hospital visits over the past year, i wasn't sure if this was ever going to get released. thank you all for your endless (fr) patience and support. happy reading ❤️

a faceless figure stretches out a hand towards you.

you squint but for some reason, you still can’t make them out. the longer you stare, the more you realize it was a person—a blurry vision of a faceless boy. considering the matching uniform to yours, he must’ve gone to your school …was he your classmate?

you frown. you’ve never seen anyone like him in class before. you stretch out your arm, fingertips barely grazing his-

the sound of the school bell ringing causes your eyelids to fly open. you groan, yawning and getting up from your seat by the window by default.

it wasn’t a nice nap—just one that left you feeling groggy, unsettled, and strangely incomplete.

you pack up your stuff quietly and leave the classroom alone, not bothering to look for your friends. as you walk down the stairs, you hear your classmates chattering about the weather.you glance outside.

it was a dreary, unwelcoming kind of rain—part of the reason why you fell asleep earlier in class—and you suddenly feel the urge to get home. as soon as possible.

you weren’t sure why, but it wasn’t just raining. it started to pour, especially hard, on this spring day. you want to think that was what made your mood all miserable and forlorn.

not to forget the fact that you didn’t have an umbrella, leaving you no other choice but to throw your hood on and tighten the strings of your hoodie over your school uniform. not exactly the most stylish look, yet it was comfortable enough for you.

you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion, but you felt out of place, like for some weird reason… you didn’t belong here. like you belonged out of this circle, away from this life and world.

that feeling always came up when it started to rain, and you always tried your best to suppress it. but it was particularly strong today.

you shrugged it off though. those “phases” weren’t uncommon, right?

though you made it halfway out the school grounds by yourself, hyein and hanni catch up to you as you walk. you give them a half-hearted smile, “hey.”

it doesn’t take much for them to notice your off behavior. hyein eyes you.

“you okay, y/n?”

you debate internally, reminding yourself that they’re your friends. you can trust them, rely on them. you’re allowed to do that. even more so, aren’t you supposed to do that?

but the words that come out of your mouth suggest otherwise. you shrug, “it’s nothing. it’s just been a weird day, you know?”

they share a glance before turning back to you, sympathetic smiles on their faces. hanni pats you on the shoulder, “yeah, we get it. you should get some rest at home, y/n. we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“be careful on the way back! the rain doesn’t look like it’s stopping soon.” she calls out before they continue, leaving you behind—still as soaked as ever.

you wave before sighing, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter and making your way towards the train station. the sound of the rain almost makes you fall into a daze as you go about your way. all your school stuff and clothes were definitely getting soaked, which probably meant an oncoming cold, but you could’ve cared less.

the only thing that mattered was going home and sleeping off this weird feeling, so it could become tomorrow and you didn’t have to be in this situation anymore.

the train station is strangely busy, you figure the downpour was making everyone go home sooner. you bypass several people, almost getting your soaked and stained shoes stepped on several times. all while muttering quiet “excuse me’s” to practically everyone and anyone who cared to listen.

after what seemed like ages, you manage to make it to your train. although, the large crowd surrounding the entrance effectively prevents you from getting anywhere.

you mutter a curse, trying to navigate through the waves of people. you just barely get on before the doors begin closing. letting out a huff in relief, you lean back against the door and slowing yourself a moment to close your eyes in peace. all the seats were obviously taken at that point, so you had no choice but to stand. that’s fine—you end up drifting off anyway.

you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. or why you feel even more exhausted when you wake up. but the robotic voice announcing your arrival makes your eyes automatically flutter open. you feel your body getting pushed and shoved around as everyone tries to get out all at once.

so you grit your teeth and tug down your hood further until you can finally get out. you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings, too focused on not getting knocked to the ground. when you finally stumble out of the crowd onto the station platform, you try to collect yourself while shaking your head. then you frown,

wait a second-

something solid knocks into you from the side, a rough oof! escaping out of their--mouth?

you’re knocked onto the ground, bottom first. pain shoots into your palms that tried (and failed) to catch your fall—and obviously, your butt as well.

you groan, eyes flashing in annoyance at your unknown assailant. looking up, you stop at the sight of the… boy in front of you.

you really have no idea why, but a question immediately pops into your head—

have you met before?

you don’t voice it, but it lingers in the back of your mind. the boy—as far as you can tell, he looks around your age— simply stares at you. he’s in a strikingly similar uniform.

a flicker of recognition passes in his eyes before you watch his expression grow flabbergasted. he continues to stare at you for a solid minute, while you only stare back in confusion, still on the floor.

“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you finally state with a furrowed brow as you quickly gathering your bearings.

his only response is a blink.

it's like the two of you are frozen in time, everyone else getting drowned out in the moment.

you frown, narrowing your eyes at him. “hello? did you hear me?” you repeat yourself and this time he snaps out of it.

“y-you’re not supposed to be here.” he gets out shakily, looking around while his hand runs through his dark locks in distress. you cross your arms, “what do you mean? this is my stop…”

you falter when you remember what you saw earlier. when you got off the train, you took a quick glance at the signs and posts. yeah, this definitely wasn’t your stop.

that wouldn’t have been a huge issue- if it wasn’t for the fact that you never missed your station, no matter the circumstances.

“no!” he exclaims and you flinch at the outburst. the boy glances at you again, and this time you involuntarily shiver at the unreadable look in his eyes.

“you’re…. you’re supposed to be dead.”

your mouth drops open.

“what a great first thing to say to someone you just bowled over. not even a sorry..” you mutter off, suddenly finding the strength to get up and wipe your hands.

the boy takes a step back away from you. curiously, you take one forward, towards him. he gestures a hand at you almost aggressively.

“you’re dead. you died. i swear-“

you hold out your hands in half desperation and half exasperation, “i dunno if this is some dumb prank or something i missed, but i hate to break it to you. i’m not dead. i’m literally right here in front of you. i think i would know if i died or not. i’m-”

again, that feeling of being out of place washes over you. this time it steals your breath away.

the strange boy shakes his head. “there’s no way. i know exactly who you look like.”

his next words make your blood run cold.

“you’re exactly like y/n y/l/n—who died a week ago.” he looks you up and down again, hands curling into fists.

“who are you? and why do you look just-?”

“because that’s who i am? my name is y/n! now, if you would excuse me.”

you hold up a hand, you didn’t have the time or patience to deal with weirdos on the street. it did struck a little odd that he knew your name, but then again he must’ve gone to your school and heard of you somewhere. the only thing that unsettled you was his reaction.

it just seemed too real, like he couldn’t have been that good at acting.

he grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving. all he does is shake his head again like he’s just trying to reassure himself. you’re about to protest, so utterly confused at what’s happening-how you missed your stop and why this strange boy is saying that you’re dead. none of it makes sense.

his face looks pale and grim, and you’re sure yours look exactly the same. “you can’t be y/n. and yet, here you are right in front of me.”

“i will scream like a little girl for help if you don’t let me go at this-“

“p-please. this isn’t a joke. you can’t be here. we need to get out of here—where everyone can’t see you.”

before you can even splutter a response, he drags you off.

you can call me niki, his words echo in your head.

his name rolls off your tongue unfamiliarly. in his states of panic—to which niki kept slapping himself and you kept denying that you were a hallucination—

you ended up introducing yourselves and deciding to find a better place to discuss. more like, niki decided. you soon began to regret that decision.

all you wanted to do was go home, but this persistent kid you’ve never seen before wouldn’t let you or your conscience go. maybe it was the weird feeling from earlier, but you have the urge to at least hear him out. but when you walked out of that train station behind him, everything was wrong.

you don’t know how to describe it. it was right but… at the same time, it wasn’t.

to begin with, you ended up at the wrong station but it led you to the right street to get home. the streets name were the same, but the stores weren’t.

and the bus stop—the bus driver that had worked there for fifteen years, the one you had greeted for fifteen years, suddenly became an entirely different person. he never missed a day, no matter what occasion it was.

things weren’t right and you had no idea what was going on.

following niki, you get lost in your thoughts. you shake your head, clapping a hand over your forehead. maybe… you’re just in a weird dream. a really realistic one, because none of this made sense. it wasn’t raining anymore either, which would’ve been fine, excluding for one tiny detail: the streets were completely dry. judging by the strength of the rain earlier, it really shouldn’t—no, it couldn’t have dried up that fast.

It wasn’t physically possible.

you could easily navigate your way around this area because you lived here all your life. and yet, it felt like you didn’t live here. not when this random stranger (only on a first name basis) keeps insisting that you died.

niki—or whoever—leads you to a very familiar library, the same one where you spent hours studying for your finals. you head in, feeling a bit better hearing the familiar entrance chime. you walk ahead of him to take your spot by the back corner. the fact that this place was essentially the same gave you some comfort.

niki seems surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, only taking the seat across from you.

“okay.” you start, glancing at the boy with wary eyes.

“if whatever bs you’re spewing is true, explain.”

he raises his eyebrows.

“me? explain?”

you nod and he scoffs, “i think you’re the one who should be explaining. after all, you’re the one that’s supposed to be dead-“

“i’m not dead.” you grit out, rolling your eyes.

“okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender, “but you still need to talk.”

you sigh, rubbing your temples.

“what do you want me to say? that i got soaked, took the train home, overslept, and then missed my stop? then, i bumped into a weird boy-”

he shoots you an offended look, which you ignore.

“-who keeps telling me that i died. oh, and the more and more i stay here with you, the more wrong everything gets?” you barely get the last word out before niki leans in, eyes focused intently on you.

the closer he gets, you more you begin to malfunction. you unconsciously hold your breath, alarm and confusion evident in your eyes. his hand reaches out, slowly, to your head. your body freezes.

his fingers catch a drop of water at the tip of your hair. “sorry. that was bothering me.”

you exhale, glaring at him. “are you serious?”

“yeah. are you?”

“no,” you deadpan, “i’m a ghost and i’m haunting you. of course i’m being serious!”

he gives you an unconvinced look and you roll your eyes, “i’m y/n y/l/n. we live an hour away from the capital. my house is two blocks away in the neighborhood with the broken fountain, and right now we’re at the library that doesn’t open on thursdays.

you harshly tug off your suddenly dry hoodie, displaying your school uniform.

“and by the looks of it, we go to the same school.”

his eyes widen as he leans in closer to study your uniform. you shrug away, caught off guard. then you frown, “but i’ve never seen you before at school. how do i know that you’re not some imposter? that you somehow stole a uniform to get something from me?”

he rolls his eyes while you gaze at him suspiciously.

“obviously not, because that’s dumb.”

you scoff.

“i live here. why would i go through all the trouble to steal a uniform to get something from you? besides, what would i need from some-“

he glances at you and you tense,

“-kid like you? you’re the one who came out of the train looking so suspicious, it’s like you appeared out of nowhere,” he counters.

you place your palms flat on the table, “okay, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anywhere. we both don’t have answers and we’re not even close to one. all i know is that i’m alive,” you shoot him another look, “and that i somehow ended up here. now, can i go?”

there’s a brief pause before niki speaks up, slowly. “i already told you, you can’t be seen. come with me. and keep the hood on.”

you roll your eyes. who was he to boss you around?

he grumbles something along the lines of- “don’t want to be seen walking around with a dead person.”

the only reason you listened was partly due to fear that you would lose your way in this familiar, yet unfamiliar place. except, you know exactly where he’s taking you. because it’s the same neighborhood you live in.

“wait,” you call out, “this is where i live.” you point to your house, and niki grimaces.

“i know. there were police here for days.”

you stop, unsure of what to say or do. police? at your house? when?

you stare at your supposed house, suddenly dark and empty. what in the world happened?

“come on,” niki calls out and you move to catch up. you’re starting to think niki may be telling the truth.

soon enough, you make it to an unfamiliar house about a street down from yours. as niki unlocks the door, you take the opportunity to study him, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen him before. but when he turns to you, you clear your throat and look away.

“this is my house,” he tilts his head while opening the door.

you like the fact that it’s messy. it felt much more homey because of that. it was also a lot bigger than yours, filled with fancy and intricate things. to which you assume this niki guy has more money than he has yet to admit. he tells you to wait in the living room, and he soon returns with a stack of books.

you pause, “yearbooks?“

he nods, “yeah, our school’s.”

strangely enough, most of the covers are different than yours at home.

but everything else is the same, like the name and logo. he pulls out this year’s yearbook and flips through before stopping at a page.

“that’s me,” he points to the picture of him and you tilt your head, frowning.

“huh. so we are in the same year. but i’ve never seen you in my yearbook—or at school before. i swear i would’ve seen you at least once before...”

you rub your temples, this whole situation was making your head hurt. none of it made sense. you study his picture, why in the world did he actually look good in his yearbook photo? your eyes shift toward his name,

nish—

he turns the page before you can finish reading, only to get distracted by seeing familiar classmates in your yearbook. niki stays silent as he flips through pages and you continue to point out your friends and classmates and stare in wonder at the unfamiliar ones-

ones that you’ve never seen before in your life but somehow their faces are printed on the page, in the same grade and same school as you.

just like niki. you were actually speechless.

eventually, he stops flipping eventually and looks at you. you catch his eye and glance down at the page, immediately catching on. you breath hitches.

“no way—”

“—and there’s you.”

it is you. you can confirm, it’s a photo of someone who looks exactly like you. but… it’s not you.

almost everything is the same, your face and clothes. your hair was cut shorter, and your smile wider for the picture. you were even wearing makeup, for crying out loud. you can only stare at the photo.

according to niki, this you is dead?

you look up at him, stomach churning. what in the world was going on?

the silence lasts until niki finally speaks up with a hesitant tone. “i might be tripping, but have you ever heard of… alternate realities?”

you shake your head firmly, “don’t even get me started on that-“

he cuts you off, “i know, i know. but just hear me out.”

you have no choice but to internally whisper a quiet plea of help. he scoots closer,

“wouldn’t it make sense? there’s really no other explanation. maybe it’s because i watched that spider-man movie recently, but you being from another world would explain how you’re alive right now—when in this world, you’re dead. plus, all the similarities and differences that you mentioned can be chalked up to different timelines—the butterfly effect and stuff like that.”

you don’t know what to say.

could it actually be?

what other explanation could there be?

“please say something,” niki mumbles and you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“okay. okay. fine. say the whole multiverse crap is true. then how did i even get here? how did i—”

you do air quotations,

“—switch dimensions to another world?”

niki shrugs, “no idea.”

he scratches his head, “it’s weird to think about but i mean, maybe there’s a reason why you came here.”

his voice suddenly gets lower and you shiver, “you know, the timing’s a bit weird that you showed up right after the other you passed away.”

you clear your throat, “let’s not think about that right now. we should probably focus on the whole me being dead thing, right?”

“what?”

you glance at him questioningly, “what?”

niki raises an eyebrow. “what’s there to focus on? you died.”

you don’t have to rub it in my face, you mumble under your breath.

“shouldn’t we be focusing on how to get you back to your world?”

you roll your eyes, “sure, but still, i kinda want to know how i died? i think i deserve to, you know, so maybe i don’t make the same dumb mistake back home.”

“-if you ever get home,” he corrects and you huff.

“whatever, just tell me. we don’t even know if your dumb alternate reality theory is right.”

“okay,” niki rubs his hands nervously and you wait in anticipation.

“well, it actually happened last thursday.”

you swallow. why was your heart rate picking up?

“at school. on, uh, the rooftop. no one witnessed it, and the cctv was broken so we don’t have any exact answers. but from what I’ve heard,” he gives you a cautious glance,

“the police are about ready to call it a suicide.”

at first, you think you misheard him. but the hesitant gaze and pause proves you otherwise.

at first it doesn’t hit you. but then suddenly you feel sick to your stomach. your hand grips the table for support as you try to take it all in.

you?

a suicide at school?

what about your family, your friends-

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head. “i… i would never-“

you slam your hands on the table, “i know myself. i would never do that.”

his face is grim and sympathetic, which you can feel the dislike churn in your stomach at that. “i’m really sorry… that’s the current situation. it kinda blew up at school, but everything’s still so recent that nothing is confirmed yet.“

unspoken words linger in the back of his head, that he questions if he should say it or not.

that niki really didn’t know you that well, that you were just another classmate of his. one that he passed in the halls without a second glance back. that the you in his world-

was just a stranger to him.

yet seeing you, desperate and alive, right in front of his eyes. he doesn’t know what to do or say. so niki watches you bury your head in your hands. and he waits.

it’s only a couple of minutes later that you look up. his face morphs into one of surprise when he sees your determined expression.

“niki,” you state carefully and he nods, waiting patiently.

“are you sure that i-i did it?”

you can’t bring yourself to say the word but niki gets it. he sighs,

“no. no one’s sure. but from what i’ve heard, the police haven’t found any other motives so… a suicide seemed most likely.” the more and more niki talked, the more unsure he got.

your face hardens.

“so there’s no proof? the police aren’t doing their freaking job and investigating?”

his eyes widen—surprised at your sudden outburst—and you sigh, voice falling to a whisper.

“did i really commit suicide? and why do i care so much?”

something warm falls over your hand and you jump, glancing up.

even for only a split second, his hand covers yours in a sympathetic attempt, “i’m sorry y/n. i wish i had answers but i really don’t know…”

despite the awkward look on niki’s face and overall awkward situation, his words strangely comfort you.

you bite your bottom lip. “i-i have to get to my house.”

he stiffens, “what?”

you stare at him, eyes sharp, “if no one else is going to do something, i at least have to.”

you need to. for yourself.

niki scoots closer, “y/n, you can’t just-“

“i know. but i need to know. something just-ugh,” you rub your face in frustration, “something doesn’t add up. i have to check. it’s like i can feel it deep within me.”

he sits there wordlessly. when you don’t get a response, you stand up. niki splutters, “w-where are you going?”

you cross your arms, “without or without you, i’m going to my house.”

he slaps a hand to his face in frustration. “just how stubborn are you?” he mumbles. you hear it and yet you decide to ignore him.

“thanks for the help i guess,” you give him a (weak) half-smile before turning towards the door

“wait! you’re being serious?!”

his desperate voice calls out and you internally debate if you should listen to him or not. slowly, you turn back around, “yeah. do you need something?”

“no, but you do— a plan. especially since the police closed off your house for investigation. plus, most of the evidence would have been taken already.” he clasps his hands together behind his back.

you shrug. “okay, and? i’ll still find a way. i have nothing to lose. i’m not even supposed to be alive.”

he groans loudly and you raise an eyebrow.

“idiot. i’m trying to say that i’ll help you. i-i want to help you.”

“i didn’t ask,” you raise your hands in mock surrender. annoyed, niki puts his hands on his hips.

“sure, but i know plenty of things you don’t. this is my world. so, are you gonna accept or not?”

“you wish you did,” you retort, yet you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face, “but… i would appreciate it. just be grateful that i’m accepting your dumb theory from a spider-man movie as of right now.”

niki gulps at the sight. it was the first time he saw you smile since you met. at least, the first smile he saw from the you of an alternate universe.

“whatever you say,” he holds out a hand,

“miss imposter.”

you take it gladly, harshly. “don’t call me that-“

“my name is y/n y/l/n.”

you spin around in niki’s chair, having went up to his room to figure out your so called master plan. niki (respectfully) offered to let you stay in his room for the length of your “visit.”

to which you almost punched him.

but he explained that there were no extra guest rooms and you were still technically dead, so hiding in his room was the best bet as to not raise any questions. you could take the makeshift bed in the corner of his room as to not raise suspicion. you were surprised yet grateful.

“i’ll grab extra blankets and pillows. and i’ll sneak you food and whatever you need.”

“what about clothes and toiletries?”

he yawns, “easy. i’ll steal some from my sisters.”

you feel bad, but you realize you have no other choice. you were literally stuck here.

a part of you still wondered if this was a dream. a horrible one, at the least. but while you were stuck here, might as well make the best of it. niki graciously offered and you had no choice but to accept. you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“so basically, i’m like a secret pet you’re hiding from your parents?”

“technically… yes,” niki rubs his hands together, and you can only watch the mischievous expression grow on his face.

“but i like to think that you’re like eleven. you’re different—you’re special, like her.”

you hold back a laugh at the words.

clearing your throat, you try to play it off. “from stranger things? your world has that show too?” he lets out a scandalous gasp and this time you giggle.

“of course, dude. what kind of world would i be living in if i didn’t have stranger things?”

“apparently a horrible one,” you snort.

after the whole living situation was sorted out, you returned to your investigation.

“so you’re saying the police taped off my house for further examination?”

“uh, yeah? that’s how it works?” he raises a brow.

you stuck your tongue out at him, “okay, smartass. then how do we get in?”

“clearly, there’s only one way: sneak in.”

“i don’t think this is a good idea?” niki whisper shouts at you and you shush him.

the sun was barely setting. if anyone knew you, they knew you really couldn’t be deemed as patient of any sort.

niki watches you struggle up the tree in your backyard.

obviously, going through the front door was a no go. luckily this house looked pretty much the same as your house, at least from the outside. you knew your parents weren’t home judging by the darkness. you wondered if they were staying with other family.

or were they at work? so soon after your death?

you grimace, now was not the time to be getting in your feelings.

the best (only) option was jumping the backyard fence and going in through your bedroom window. leading to your predicament now.

you exhale heavily when you find a place to rest, gripping the tree with all your might in hopes that you don’t fall

you glance down at niki.

“can you make it?”

he scoffs,

“easy.”

it was easy— easy for you to watch niki struggle to get up to your point.

you were sort of scared the tree wasn’t going to support both your weights, at the way it was trembling slightly. niki makes it though, by the time the sun is well down.

you can see him sweating heavily and your nose scrunches in amusement,“easy, huh?”

“yeah, for you just standing there and watching me. we don’t have all day, grandma.”

“don’t call me that,” you mutter while stretching out towards your window.

niki’s eyes widen.

“be careful, y/n.”

“i got it,” you stretch out a leg to the ledge and your sweaty hands begin to slide from the bark, most likely from exertion.

without even thinking about it, niki places his hands around your waist to stabilize you. you don’t notice in your concentration to not fall to your death. you certainly didn’t want another dead you.

your foot clicks the lock, and with a grunt you’re able to push the window open.

“you got it?”

“yeah,” you breathe out, clumsily making your way in. you reach out a hand for niki and he takes it, maneuvering his long body in through the small window.

finally, you can breathe.

it’s the first time you have the luxury to desperately wish that you were home right now. your real home. you certainly didn’t mean this home, the empty and cold looking one locked up for the police’s investigation.

after catching your breath, you get up to examine your surroundings. you weren’t not sure what you were expecting. this was the other you’s room.

all you can think is, at least this y/n was much cleaner than you.

a part of you feels like you’re invading someone’s privacy. but then you realize that it’s literally your own privacy that you’re invading, with the addition of niki. you actually can’t believe the absurdity of the situation.

at first glance the room looks pretty normal, an average teenagers room. not what you expected for yourself, but there’s not much you can see. you turn to niki,

“there’s no shot we’ll get caught right?”

he gives you another sympathetic look, “we’ll keep a look out for the police, but i heard your parents were busy with your other family and funeral preparations, so it wouldn’t be them catching us.”

“oh.”

the air feels so glum, you clear your throat to move on. “guess we should look around?”

he nods and begins to snoop around.

“wait,” you call out hesitantly.

niki cocks his head and you cough awkwardly.

“it’s still my room, so like, be careful with what you look through.”

he rolls his eyes. “yeah. i got it.”

you gaze at the photos on your shelf, displaying your happy family and friends. it just made you acknowledge how precious they were. it made you miss your friends and family at home even more.

you’re appalled at the books you read. you shake your head, seriously? you take out one of the books-

“ten days to love,” you voice aloud with disgust written across your face.

you weren’t one to judge, but what kind of cheesy romance novels were you reading?

niki opens your closet and you turn at the sound. your eyes widen-

wait a second,

your closet with clothes? possibly including…. more personal things?

you dash over in desperation, praying that niki hasn’t already seen something that he shouldn’t.

“don’t!”

his wide eyes meet your panicked ones, shocked at the sudden change of events. he doesn’t move until you push past him, blocking the door from his view.

“you didn’t see anything, right?” you stare at niki desperately and he furrows his eyebrows.

“no? am i not supposed-“

“no reason. just being cautious. we can, uh, open it together.”

you carefully examine your belongings inside before deeming it safe for niki’s eyes. you let out a sigh of relief.

he gives you a weird look and you shoot him an exaggerated smile.

“you can proceed!”

he mutters something under his breath as you continue your search on the other side of the room. it didn’t seem like there was anything of importance on the shelves. but, after careful examination, you see a glimpse of something. pushing past some folders, your face morphs into a stunned one.

you pull out…

a pink teddy bear with hearts? why would this be in your room?

and even more so, why was it hidden?

niki calls out your name and you turn around. your mouth drops open.

“a box of chocolates?“

he scoffs, “yeah. stuffed behind some clothes in your closet for some reason.”

“it’s not even the good brand,” you mutter.

niki laughs, “maybe you had secret admirers from school?” suddenly, you give him a suspicious glance.

“what makes you say that? you sure you weren’t one of them?”

he side eyes you, “trust me, you wouldn’t catch me within five feet of you at school.”

you walk over to shove his arm and he only laughs harder. you huff, suppressing a smile on your face as you turn away. but you keep niki’s comment in the back of your mind.

after a solid thirty minutes, you can feel your resolve waning. there was no sign indicating that you felt suicidal. at least, none that you found after the police probably scrounged through everything. some stuff was suspicious—

like the teddy bear and chocolates. and some lavish perfume and makeup in the drawers. that just wasn’t your style. but you supposed this world’s you was just different.

just because you weren’t particularly into those things didn’t mean another you couldn’t be.

“did i have a diary? what about my phone?”

niki frowns, “the police would’ve taken it. it’s their evidence now.”

you suddenly get an idea, and it’s probably wasn’t a good one.

“hey, niki?” you call out. he hums in response.

“what day and time is it, currently?”

“uh…” he checks his watch, “sunday. 8pm. why?”

“when does the police station close?”

dummy, most people would say--why would the police station be closed?

luck seemed to be on your side, because you knew especially well from complaints by locals, that your local police station did actually have a curfew. and you could only hope it was the same here.

niki scratches his head, “in ten minutes? why are-“

his mouth drops open, “no. no. no.” you shrug and he shakes his head adamantly, “y/n, there’s no way that we’re going to sneak in.”

you dust off your hands, “i’m all ears for any other ideas you have.”

you have him at that and he falls silent. after a couple moments, he speaks up albeit hesitantly. “well… i might have a way.“

you grin. “onwards, then.”

“wait, so how did you manage to get access again?”

he coughs, “my friend jungwon is the son of the police deputy chief… so i may have called in for a favor.”

“he managed to sneak in with his dad’s keys and get the files to my case?” you finish.

he nods.

“illegally?”

he nods again.

you tap your chin, “would we get arrested if we got caught?”

he shrugs, “probably.”

“good thing i’m not from this world.”

perhaps secretly hanging outside this jungwon’s house was not the best idea, either. he rolls his eyes before offering the file to you.

“do you want to open it?” to your surprise, his voice comes out quite comforting and soft.

you gulp, “i guess i should.”

you feel sick for the second time that day. luckily, the photo didn’t show too much. not that it made it any better. it was still you, dead.

you had to look at yourself and imagine yourself in that situation. you cover your mouth and niki immediately takes the file away from you. he watches worriedly as you shake your head.

“i’m fine. i-is there anything else your friend managed to get?”

“are you sure?”

“yes.” he doesn’t protest anymore at the tone of finality in your voice.

niki pulls out a bag with your name on it. taking a deep breath in, you open it. you shuffle through some things hurriedly until niki speaks up.

“hold on a sec,” he softly places a hand on your arm to stop your actions.

“we should be careful. someone could notice that we tampered with the evidence so we need to be very careful when putting things back. plus, we have to give it back to him as soon as possible—we don’t want them noticing that your stuff is missing.”

you curse, “that’s right. we can’t risk taking anything.”

“then what?”

you pinch your nose bridge, “we snap pictures and hope it’s good enough. unless we want to take another field trip here.”

you manage to snap a few pictures and go through a few things. you catch a glimpse of your diary and flip to the most recent page. it was about a week and a half ago, and-

it wasn’t finished. you skim through it, reading boring stuff about how your day was and how you met-

you squint.

the rest of the words were scratched out, harshly, with a black marker. seeing how it was getting late and dark, you can’t make out who’s name it was even with your phone flashlight. you wonder, could it be-

your thoughts are interrupted by niki.

“y/n, i think we need to hurry and head home soon. the longer we stay out, the greater risk we’re at for getting caught. oh, and i found your phone.”

he holds it up and the extremely glittery case makes your eyes hurt. you eye it. heaving a deep breath, you prepare yourself to open your phone.

but when you click the power button and nothing happens, you groan. you try again, and again, holding it down for seconds but the screen remains black.

“the phone’s dead.” you sigh again and niki bites his lip.

“maybe we should give up. we can ask jungwon another time,” he suggests

you nod wearily and he closes the box. as he gathers everything, opening his phone to text his friend to come back out, you glance at the time. it was quite late for a school day.

“that’s right, you have school tomorrow?”

he groans, “yeah. i guess you’ll just have to stay home in my room. no one will go in while i’m at school, so you don’t have to worry.”

you nod, “okay.”

it felt weird knowing you were supposed to be at home, in bed and preparing to go to school yourself the next day. instead, you were stuck in another world—in a stranger’s room, forced to hide since you were supposed to be dead.

were you considered missed at home? did anyone notice? call the cops?

more like, if anyone cared?

while you get ready for bed in niki’s bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror.

yes, you affirm, you’re alive.

you’re staring back at yourself, dressed in one of niki’s oversized shirts and basketball shorts.

but the image of your dead face flashes in your mind and you immediately squeeze your eyes shut. you breathe heavily, hands planted on the sides of the sink.

everything’s fine. you will get back home. things will figure themselves out. you’re okay. you’re breathing and-

a knock on the door makes you jump.

“y/n? everything okay?” niki’s voice sounds out hesitantly, “it seemed like you were taking a while so-“

the door swings open.

you stand there, face emotionless. he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. niki tries to keep the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head, but it won’t seem to go away.

“goodnight, niki.”

you slowly walk over to the temporary bed he’s set up on the floor for you. he blinks,

“night, y/n.”

it’s surprisingly comfortable, or maybe you’re just so exhausted you don’t seem to care or question anything anymore.

you hear light footsteps padding to turn off the lights.

in the darkness, your eyes close. but your mind is awake.

you know his is too, judging by the sounds of quite shuffling every couple minutes or so.

“niki?” you say quietly.

another shuffle.

“yeah?”

“this may sound weird, but have you noticed anyone that looked particularly sad?”

there’s a pause.

“about you?”

“yeah, but not like the typical sadness. like, anyone who seems to have changed drastically after hearing about me? let’s say,” you swallow, “any guys or friends of yours who seemed particularly upset or affected?”

niki rolls to the other side of his bed so that he faces you, but in the darkness he can only see the outline of your figure. “y/n, what are you trying to say?”

you tug the covers over yourself a little tighter.

“nevermind, niki. have a good day at school tomorrow, and don’t worry about waking me up. you won’t be able to.”

“wasn’t planning on it,” he snorts.

you fall asleep with a faint smile still lingering on your face.

the next day at school, niki struggles. he struggles when it’s supposed to be another normal day, and all he can think about is you.

especially about what you said.

niki never paid much attention before to his surroundings, there was no reason to. but now he keeps an eye open.

he eyed anyone who passed by your locker, empty desk in class, anyone who mentioned your name. but the fact that you mentioned guys specifically, made him confused.

why did it matter if a guy was upset? a lot of people were shocked and sad at the news. niki shook his head. he didn’t get it.

meanwhile, you stayed at his home.

thinking.

thinking about yesterday. somehow everything that happened was all just yesterday. you took the train and ended up here. then you found out you were apparently dead.

you spent what felt like hours scrolling through the photos you took and waiting for niki to come home. all while eating snacks that niki left for you graciously.

you don’t even know what time it is when you hear the door begin to open. you scramble to your feet before realizing that there was a chance it wasn’t niki.

you go back to your hiding spot, shrinking underneath the covers. next thing you know, the bedroom door flings open. you tense.

however, a call of your name allows you to let out a sigh of relief. you hop up, “niki!”

he grins, looking rather cute in his ruffled school uniform, backpack slung off one shoulder. you stop yourself, horrified at your thought. at your face falling, he cocks his head. “what’s wrong?”

you laugh awkwardly, “nothing! nothing at all!”

he gives you an unconvinced look but doesn’t press further.

“you must’ve been bored without me.”

that was the niki you’ve come to know (in the span of a day or so). sarcasm drips from your lips as you laugh dryly, “sure.”

but you knew he was right and he knew it too.

“i spent the day looking through the pictures, but i couldn’t find much else,” you frown.

“same here. today was pretty normal, no one seemed any different than usual…”

“i mean, the mood has been somber ever since you,” he pauses, “left. but nothing out of the ordinary.”

you seemingly deflate, but niki perks up. “i talked to jungwon and he said he’s going to try and get your phone next time. we can only hope that someone charges it or that we can charge it ourselves.”

you nod, “that’s good.”

“but, don’t you have work to do? what about your family?”

you realized you didn’t see or even hear of them yesterday.

“oh, they usually stay late at the dance academy—me included. but my grades haven’t been good recently, so they’ve been forcing me to go to home and study…”

you tsk as niki gives you a sheepish look.

“you know, while we’re waiting, i’m not too bad at studying myself. what do you need help with?”

niki rolls his eyes, “thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need another person on my back about my grades.”

instead, he falls back onto his bed with an oof.

“don’t worry, i’ll manage. let’s just talk about our next step.

“step? as in, my case?

“yeah,“ his eyes glint, “i have an idea.”

you were starting to believe he was getting more invested in this than you were.

“okay—shoot.”

what was the worse thing he could suggest?

“we should sneak you into school-“

your eyes practically bulge as you gape at him. “excuse me? weren’t you the one saying i was going too far with sneaking into my own house and you want me to do what?”

niki gets up, placing his arms on your shoulders to calm you. strangely enough, it did.

“hear me out first—we sneak into school at night, bust open your locker, and see what you have. that’s better than waiting for jungwon.”

“don’t you think the police would have already looked through my locker?

“well, he looks around nervously, “as far as i’ve heard, the police were already mostly convinced the case was closed and didn’t care to check. but, what can i say? rumors are just rumors.”

you purse your lips. what did you have to lose? being in a different world made you much more reckless than you would have ever thought. but that didn’t mean you were going to be stupid about it.

“fine.”

niki winces at your tone, but you speak up,

“how in this stupid multiverse crap am i going to break into my own locker? and with cameras all around school?

he smirks and you raise an eyebrow.

“i didn’t miss a whole chem lecture for nothing—“

confused, you give him a look as if to say, what in the world are you talking about?

“who said we had to know the combination?” he takes out a pair of keys form his pocket.

you gasp in awe, clasping a hand over your mouth.

you gaze at him with wide eyes for a second, causing him to look at you questioningly.

“you’re actually being smart...”

his confused expression immediately changes to one of irritation.

you stand up straight again, “how did you even get those keys? and what about the cameras?”

he winks and you glance at him, trying to remain expressionless. if there was anything you noticed, it was that niki was actually quite attractive. it made you wonder if he was popular at school…

“it’s a secret. don’t worry about it.”

“you sure have a lot of secrets, niki. like, is niki even your real name?” you squint accusingly.

niki chokes on his spit, “how in the world did you know?”

you falter. “huh? it isn’t?”

he clears his throat, “anyway, i have to get up early for school tomorrow.”

you eye him but decide to let it go. niki shrugs, “usually i’m up playing games, but you look like you need the sleep with those eye bags. you aren’t surprised.

“tomorrow night,” he says shortly after. “i’ve got a plan—you just have to trust me.”

turns out said plan was dumb, but you really had no other choice.

niki made some lame excuse to his teachers about staying late to study- and his teachers, being utterly shocked that he offered to study, immediately agreed to let him linger.

meanwhile, niki would sneak you in, wearing one of his old uniforms that was too small for him so that just in case, no one would question anything. along with one of his totally inconspicuous baseball caps to hide your face and hair.

you sigh, you couldn't believe you were sneaking into school through the boys bathroom. you groan while maneuvering through the window. niki shushes you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him. he raises his hands playfully and you resist the urge to smack him.

on your way to jump down from the window, your left foot gets caught on the ledge. you stumble forward, expecting to be met with the revolting bathroom floor face first. instead, perhaps now was the time to thank the universe (in this case, his universe?) for niki’s quick reflexes.

he inhales, catching you by catching and pulling you towards him instead of the ground, essentially into his arms.

instead of faceplanting into the ground rather foolishly, you fall into his strangely soft and warm chest. you let out a barely discernible squeak, unable to respond due to the pounding of your heart.

after a couple of seconds—that felt like forever— niki lets you go with a shake of his head.

“my god y/n, i had no clue you were this clumsy. please don’t ever do that again.”

please don’t ever make me sneak into a nasty teenage bathroom again, you wish you could retort.

you shake your head quickly, lips pressed thinly together. don’t get distracted, you remind yourself. “yeah-thanks. let’s uh, just hurry.“

you don’t have time to wonder what would the consequences be if you got caught by cameras or anyone else while niki leads you down the familiar hallways.

“how do you know which one’s my locker? i thought you said we didn’t really know each other?“ you eye him suspiciously.

he scoffs, “don’t get too excited. mine’s just a couple lockers down so i was bound to see you at your locker by some point.”

he hands you the keys and you gratefully accept—your hands slightly trembling. you didn’t know what to expect.

niki watches from behind, and you can feel his warm breath on you occasionally, causing you to shiver.

with a slight click and creak of the rusty locker door, the locker opens. you hold your breath at first glance. it’s…. normal?

normal as in any average high schoolers locker one would expect. what catches your eye first are a couple of photos of you and your friends.

on deeper inspection of yourself (it was still weird to imagine and even weirder to see) you see a twinkling, intricate chain around your neck. maybe you were tripping (again, but mentally this time) or that necklace you had on seems really expensive?

“there’s no way,” you suddenly gasp and turn to niki with wide eyes.

“what?” niki starts to panic, “what is it?”

“am i actually loaded in this world?”

niki pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “jesus, you scared me. i mean, you didn’t seem like it.. who knows where you got that super expensive, luxury brand necklace? it looks familiar…“

you try your hardest not to roll your eyes. of course, niki would know.

“how much are you talking?”

he taps his foot on the floor, “well, my mom and sister likes that brand. that specific necklace is specially made since it’s a seasonal limited edition, so it’s somewhere in the thousands-“

you truly forgot how rich niki’s family was, you think with a half joking tch and a shake of your head. niki glances at you, impressed.

“-whoever gave that to you must’ve really cared.”

you frown, “sure… or maybe i just really worked hard to get it for myself?”

he’s shoots you an amused look, “you wanted to get yourself the valentine day’s collection necklace?

“what?”

you feel your heart rate begin to pick up, “are you implying what i think you are?

“yes?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, “someone must’ve been really in love with you to gift you that. maybe your parents or friends?”

then niki pokes your side playfully, “-or a secret admirer?”

you don’t answer his question, regardless of if he was being serious or not. you peer into the locker again, “but where is it? it’s so valuable i’m certain we would’ve seen it in the police’s evidence…”

suddenly, niki grabs your wrist. that’s when you hear the footsteps. you turn to him with wide eyes as he mouths for you to hide. panicking, you look around in desperation before he pushes you—

straight into the locker.

your own locker.

you know you should be freaking out over getting caught, but you could only wonder—could this be considered a crime?

in the dark, stuffy locker, you see a glimpse of niki’s silhouette run past through the tiny openings of the door. just barely a second later, you hear more footsteps. squinting, you able to discern a familiar, yet weirdly unfamiliar guy. your eyebrows raise.

no way. park sunghoon was in this world too?

you hold your breath when you hear him call out, “is someone there?”

really, curse niki for shoving you in your own locker. yet it was also a smart move as no one could see into your locker, but you were able to see out.

“sorry. that was me, pres.”

it was niki’s voice.

you can barely see his relaxed demeanor appearing to face sunghoon.

“i was staying back to study and catch up on work—you know already,” he adds hastily.

sunghoon nods coolly, “i was just checking. making sure everything’s good before leaving.”

niki was a little too good at acting, you questioned how often he had done this to those around him. he fake salutes, “i promise to clean up after i’m done. no need to worry, class president.”

“alright, see you later.”

you have a sigh of relief as sunghoon turns to leave.

but you swear, for a split second, his expression changes as his eyes fall on your locker.

your heart rate picks up. did he notice you?

however, sunghoon leaves without a second look back.

you frown—what was that?

after waiting a minute to be safe, niki quickly lets you out. only to be greeted by your displeased face and crossed arms.

“that was the only thing i could think of in the moment!” he immediately defends himself.

“seriously? i could’ve-like-“ you trail off and niki smirks.

“see? nothing bad would’ve happened.”

“doesn’t change the fact you stuffed me in my locker. it’s not even mine, for crying out loud.”

“whatever. just be glad you didn’t get caught by park sunghoon, our school’s super rich, smart, and handsome-“

“i know him from my world. he’s irrelevant, let’s continue on.” you wave him off.

you can’t help but compare him to niki. niki was way more genuine and… boyish in a way? he felt real. you preferred that. not to mention he had a much more tolerable presence, you supposed.

everything else in the locker was useless. random crappy notes, perfumes and hand lotions, along with the pictures you already inspected were the only things that decorated your locker. no sign of that ridiculously expensive necklace.

you rub a hand over your face in exasperation. “that’s it…”

one thought still lingered in the back of your mind. where was the necklace?

“hey, y/n, i think we should get going soon. the lights are going to turn off soon-they’re automatic and we didn’t bring any flashlights.”

you sigh. next time.

it feels like you’ve hit a dead end. by the end of the week, niki has caught up on his studies. you were surprised to find that he was quite dedicated to school, even if it didn’t seem like it.

the days that niki came home with a pile of schoolwork and other duties, you went out to think—with one of niki’s hoodies and a mask on. but the times you spent with niki since you couldn’t go out much, mainly at night, were nice.

tutoring him at subjects he was struggling in, learning new dances together (and learning how talented he really was), simply being around him was enough to distract you from your impending crisis.

niki always came to keep you company and bring you food. you really were his eleven.

niki was gaming while you sat off to the side, watching him play. you admired his side profile, the shine from the bright computer screen enhancing his features, the furrow of his eyebrow as he focused.

he yells as his character dies and you can’t hold back your laughter, “you kinda suck-“

all of a sudden, you hear a knock on the door.

“bro, you good? i swear i heard another voice-“

the door handle begins to turn.

you and niki share a look of panic.

your first instinct is to dive and roll, underneath niki’s bed. you ignore the fact that it’s as dusty as you’d expect for a teenage boy’s room and hold your breath.

“mom said dinner is ready. also, what’s with all the noise? it sounded like someone else was in the room with you.” a girls voice—niki’s older sister, you presume.

“nope. just me.”

you cringe at the fact that niki’s voice is octaves higher. it wouldn’t be that much of a problem if his voice wasn’t as deep as it normally was.

“it was just probably the video i was playing.”

“…sure,” you hear his sister’s footsteps as she leaves and shuts the door behind her.

you let out an exhale of relief.

“y/n?” you hear soon after.

“under here.”

you turn to see niki’s head peeking down underneath the bed.

you meet his curious eyes. cute.

“jeez.” he holds a hand out and you gladly accept it, letting him pull you up with ease. huffing, you dust yourself off.

“jeez, indeed. who knows what horrors you’ve been hiding under there.”

“hey,” niki defends himself, “i’ll have you know i am a very clean person and don’t-“

“oh really? then what’s this?” you hold up the sacred item, jerking your hand back as he reaches out to snatch it.

“hey! haven’t you ever heard of privacy?”

he lunges again as you laugh, just keeping it out of his grasp. however, you feel the bed frame hit your legs, and you gasp.

you fall back, niki over you on his bed. he must’ve underestimated his arm-span and overestimated yours.

niki lands over you with a soft grunt, eyes wide. you peer up at him wordlessly. his arms catch him, but it’s still so close you can feel his hair tickle your forehead.

is this what the movies mean when your heart… skips a beat?

niki snaps out of his trance, “s-sorry,” he hastily gets up. you cough, trying to dispel the stuffy atmosphere.

“so, uh, i had an idea.”

“yeah? what’s up?”

“i was thinking we look at the evidence again. i just want to double check something.”

“come on,” you take niki’s hand. it was habitual by this point.

“you got the charger, right?”

niki nods, taking it out of his pocket.

it was risky asking niki’s friend to retrieve the evidence for you again, but you needed to confirm your suspicions. or, hit a dead end.

when niki returns, carefully holding a plastic bag (and dinner, your grumbling stomach reminds you), your eyes zero in on one thing.

“thanks. i know it must be hard for your friend to sneak behind his dad’s back like that.”

“it’s fine,” niki shrugs, “i promised to buy him lunch for the next week.”

you snort as you take out “your” phone and plug it into the charger.

“okay. now we wait.”

niki looks at you expectantly, and you only stare at him back. subconsciously, a hand raises to your face. “is there something wrong?”

he shakes his head while looking away sheepishly, “nothing, nothing.”

you open your mouth to question him further, but the phone screen flashes. you scramble to open it. thankfully you were able to use your own face id.

as soon as you scroll through your messages, your stomach sinks. you raise a hand to cover your mouth.

“what?” niki jumps up, “what did you find?”

you open the photos app, which only confirms everything. you drop the phone, and that’s when niki sees it.

“oh my god.”

“don’t even-“

“i was secretly dating park sunghoon?!”

you cup a hand over your mouth. “i think i’m gonna be sick.”

niki scoffs, taken aback. “b-but how? you- and him-?”

you rub a hand over your face. “don’t ask me. but the valentines gifts and necklace were so suspicious, i started wondering… i just didn’t expect it to be him.”

niki notices the sour expression on your face.

“oh. you don’t like him?”

you shake your head vehemently, “bro, not even if he and i were the last two people on earth.”

you think about your world’s sunghoon and almost shudder. he was selfish, arrogant, could but would never keep a girl for more than two weeks. yet the whole class still loved him and you never understood it, never understood the appeal of him.

besides getting bro-zoned, niki relished your words.

“good to know.”

“i wish i didn’t,” you sigh.

but that was besides the point. you still didn’t know how it all added up. did sunghoon—unfortunately, your boyfriend in this world—have anything to do with your death? did he really get you that expensive necklace?

and as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t rule it out. thinking as rationally and fairly as possible, suicide was likely-as much as you didn’t believe it. you couldn’t rule it out simply based on a feeling. plus, his expression when he passed by your locker lingered in your mind.

“so, now what?” niki watches you carefully.

“you’ve heard of the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”

“yeah,” he cocks an eyebrow, “why?”

“well, i’ve got a task for you.”

niki has never spoken a word to your friend group in his entire life. the most he’s ever done was send a cold look their way and pretend not to know them out in public.

he had nothing against them—nothing against your choice of friends—but he preferred not to associate with your group. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just didn’t vibe with them.

and yet here he was, talking to your “friends” because you asked him to. he sighed, the things he did for you.

danielle looks him up and down with her arms crossed. “why are you asking about y/n? since when did you care about them?”

“please,” he sighs in exasperation, “i just need to know if anyone disliked y/n or was acting suspicious around them.”

haerin steps up, an annoyed frown on her face. “there’s no one. can’t you tell this is a touchy subject for us? now, leave us alone.”

she grabs danielle and walks off, angrily whispering into a distressed looking danielle’s ears.

niki wants to punch someone. besides the fact that surrounding people were catching onto his conversation and whispering about the interaction, he essentially got nothing out of it.

you were also at a dead end. after scrolling through hundreds of disgusting texts and photos of you and sunghoon, there was nothing remotely suspicious. plus, you had to give your phone back to jungwon soon before anyone noticed it was missing.

everything seemed normal. everything was normal. normal until this world’s you suddenly died.

the only lead you had was the missing necklace. and yet where were you supposed to find it? it could be anywhere—in the police’s hands, with sunghoon, most likely gone.

you couldn’t even go out on your own, you felt like a hopeless rapunzel trapped in her tower, desperately wishing for answers and freedom. it was starting to get to you. the stress, homesickness, and most of all, loneliness.

you throw your phone to the side and bury your face in your hands, trying your best to focus on your breathing. you almost don’t realize how long it’s been until you hear a faint call of your name.

“y/n? y/n, what’s wrong?” niki drops his backpack and rushes to your side.

his eyes carefully examine your body, checking for who knows what. you slowly lower your hands, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained face.

what scared niki the most was the lost look in your eyes, a deep and dark pool void of any emotion.

“niki… i don’t think i can do this anymore,” your words float out carefully, like a whisper of the wind.

“i’m trying my hardest, but it’s so frustrating. i miss my home, i miss my life. i miss myself.” as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel yourself break down. and right as you do so, niki reaches forward to wrap you in an embrace.

“i want to go home,” you whisper in an small voice.

his heart almost breaks at the sight. you sounded like a little kid—you looked like you were a little kid again, as small and curled up you were when he found you. in his eyes, he saw a lost child looking for their parents, their guidance and their own light in the world.

he resolves to never be the cause of your pain again.

niki holds you for the entire night as you cry and drift off to sleep.

you wake up with a headache and a dry throat. you feel hungover, although you’ve basically never drank alcohol before.

somehow, you’re not sure exactly when, you ended up in niki’s bed. as soon as you’re able to sit up, your eyes fall on the clock on the bedside table.

11 am. niki must be at school still, you note.

you wonder what he’s up to, if he was being a good student while you were stuck all alone at his home, skipping your own school. you wonder what life is like back at home. did time even pass?

niki heads home as soon as the bell rings. he wanted to see you, to comfort you and reassure you. he wanted you to be okay.

when he knocks on his own bedroom door and there’s no response, he frowns. all there’s left is a pink sticky note on his desk.

went out for fresh air. don’t worry and don’t look for me.

niki immediately drops his stuff and runs out. he goes to the train station, the bookstore. he even goes back to school, for crying out loud.

he’s breathless and exhausted by the time he’s arrived back home. niki knows his family won’t be back. it was competition season, which meant the busiest time of the year for the other dancers. you were the sole reason he attended school at this time of the year, studying hard instead of skipping and dancing 18 hours each day.

he’s scared.

niki hasn’t felt this feeling in a long time—he can only recall the time where he was six and went to disney world. his older sister was pressuring him into riding one of the larger roller coasters, and he felt that sickening nausea fill him as he looked up at the towering structure.

he almost gives up. he basically has, until he notices something strange. his balcony door is unlocked, and he always kept it locked for safety purposes.

tense, niki reaches out and slowly turns the handle. what greets him is certainly not what he expected.

you sit on the balcony railing, hanging over the edge quite precariously with your feet swinging. one slight mistake and you would fall.

you stare down at the passing cars, cloudy and dreary skies showing you it was soon to rain.

niki stares at you, and you turn around at the sound of the door to stare back, not a single word exchanged.

then you finally break the eye contact, glancing down at your stilled feet. “i wasn’t going to do it.”

he silently moves closer, hopping next to you on the railing as well. “okay.”

you don’t see the tender way his eyes travel over you. your voice is quiet as you speak up, “you don’t have to say anything.”

“okay,” niki repeats.

it’s not said in a sarcastic way. it’s not sad, either. it’s just..... soft. soft and understanding enough to make a blanket of comfort fall around you, to make it known that niki’s presence is here by your side.

suddenly, the rains starts and niki asks if you want to go down. you slowly nod and he helps you safely off the railing before opening the door for you guys go out in the rain.

the rain doesn’t stop.

and niki doesn’t stop either. he grabs your hand, dragging you along with him haphazardly.

“where are we going?” you ask breathlessly.

“out. like most people our age. we’re still kids.”

“wow, i had no idea,” you mutter sarcastically.

he holds back a smile of relief. good to know you were still your usual self.

“you need a break. you’ve been so caught up in this case, you need to rest.”

“but-“

“come on,” he leads you on, “relax. it’ll give you a clear mind, so we can come back with a fresh start.”

you’re hesitant until he pulls up at an arcade. “what if someone sees me? what if they-“

niki places a finger over your lips, silencing you. “we’re here to have fun like everyone else and not give a crap about anything else. now, are you gonna play or are you gonna get your butt kicked by me?”

a challenge was a challenge.

you laugh at niki’s rambunctious side, yelling as he tries to cheat during competitive games and fight over the better toy gun.

“just so you know, i technically won.”

you playfully shove him, “in your dreams. you’re just saying that because you don’t want to-“

you get cut off by the loudest (and most embarrassing) grumble of your stomach. you both look down at your stomach. you look back up, petrified.

niki almost cackles, “i guess that’s a sign.”

“it’s not my fault i fell asleep before eating yesterday,” you pout.

“what do you want to eat?”

“anything. i’m serious.”

niki watches with a fond smile as you quite literally inhale your food.

“eat any faster, and you’ll make a new record.”

you flip him off as he laughs, putting more food onto your plate from his. you can only watch wordlessly, feeling your heart warm. after you finish eating, niki takes your hand again. you glance at him questioningly.

“there’s one last thing i wanted to do,” he mumbles while avoiding your gaze.

“how’s this one?”

you scrunch your nose in distaste at the sight, reaching to place red devil horns on niki’s head.

“i think this one fits you more.”

as he grumbles, you laugh.

“fine, but i get to choose yours.”

he ends up picking a frog headband for you—which you complain to no avail. his reasoning was, “you remind me of a frog. like the princess and the frog.”

you splutter, “but that means-“

“yes. i’m the princess.”

“obviously,” he adds.

in the photo booth, you sit awkwardly. niki cocks an eyebrow.

“i’ve never done this before, so…"

instead of teasing you like you originally assumed, niki only brings you closer. he wraps an arm around you while posing for the camera. you’re frozen, even as the countdown starts. you can barely manage a smile as the camera flashes.

“what now?”

niki glances at the screen, “we still have three more pictures. what poses do you want to do?”

you’re at a loss for words.

niki leans closer again. he makes a half heart with his hand as he looks at you expectantly. “how about a heart pose?”

“o-okay.”

you never felt so suffocated in that photo booth. and yet, you’ve never laughed harder. you’ve never been so happy in your life with someone else.

“hey, this photo came out good!”

“but what happened to the first one?”

you both lean in to get a closer look at the photos that printed, and you end up feeling niki’s breath on your cheek.

it was warm. it was nice to have someone so close to you and still feel comfortable. it was nice to know you were close enough to someone to feel that way.

it was something you had never felt before.

“..-y/n?”

“huh?” you snap out of your trance.

“i said, you can keep this copy.”

you look at the pictures and then at niki. “what? no, it’s fine-“

“i said keep it,” he forcefully shoves the photo into your hand as he quickly heads over to the cashier to pay.

you stand there for a minute, looking at the photos. you guys looked happy. you guys looked good…together. like you were a real couple, or something. you internally chide yourself while taking off your headband. what a silly thought, you brush off.

on the walk back home, you feel utterly satisfied, humming as you match your pace with niki’s.

“when we arrive, i’ll let you in through the back, just to be safe.”

“whatever you say, mr. responsible.”

he ruffles your hair and you swat his hand away in annoyance.

that night was the first night you’ve felt content. almost like you could stay here—like you belonged. you stare up at the dark ceiling, reflecting on the days events.

“niki?”

you hear his bed shift. “yeah?”

“i just wanted to say thanks. for everything. you’ve been providing everything for me, all while helping me on my case. i’m grateful for everything. i don’t know how, but i promise to pay you back one day.”

“what’s with the sudden sappiness?” his tone is teasing, but light. he clears his throat to add, “but yeah, of course.”

“i dunno, i guess i’m just not used to this type of treatment back home.”

“what? what do you mean?”

even in the dark, you can feel inquisitive stare on you.

“i mean, i’m usually left on my own since my parents are working. and my friends, well, they’re nice and all…”

“but you don’t feel a true connection?” he finishes, and you roll over.

“yeah. i don’t really know what my friends are like in this world. who even are my friends? do i even have any?”

niki grimaces.

“uh, yeah. i don’t know if they exist in your world, but have you heard of danielle? and haerin?”

“nope. what are they like?”

he shifts again, and the bed creaks. “you see, i don’t really talk to your friend group. it’s nothing personal, i just don’t want to associate with them.”

“dang, maybe it really is just a me problem, in every life too.”

you hadn’t thought about hanni and hyein since you got here. but danielle and haerin were two new leads. a new start, perhaps.

now that you had more information from niki, you started your research again. specifically, insta-stalking.

your specialty.

niki hands you his phone with a suspicious look when you casually ask for it. you pray he doesn’t hear the sound of blood rushing in your ears or the pounding of your heart.

as he goes to do his night time routine, you quickly tap on the instagram app and search up danielle’s name. it doesn’t take long for you to find her account since niki followed her. checking to make sure he didn’t come out of the bathroom, you scroll through her feed.

and your heart stops when you see it. in the corner of a photo—a picture of her and haerin posing at school in front of their lockers.

that’s your ridiculously expensive bracelet on danielle’s arm. you’re sure of it.

you felt yourself grow nauseous as you quickly turn off niki’s phone as soon as you hear the door turn.

“hey, are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost..”

you blink and smile, peeking at him innocently, although the dread grows in the pit of your stomach. “huh? no. what are you talking about?”

“what were you doing on my phone?”

you look away sheepishly, “trying to see if i could call my mom?” maybe niki’s acting skills were rubbing off on you.

“oh, and?”

you shake your head, a fake grim expression plastered on your face.

that night, you lay awake staring into the darkness. when you hear niki’s soft snores, you sneak over to his bedside table to retrieve the key. you know you shouldn’t, but you felt this was something you needed to do alone.

you feel like you’re on the edge of the cliff, about to jump into the water. the adrenaline filled you, you were right there-

it was so close.

the next day, you have to pretend everything is okay. you smile when niki greets you good morning, even peck him on the cheek when he tells you he has to stop by the dance studio for the night.

he visibly blushes, stuttering on his words, “w-uh, w-what was that.. for..?”

you shrug, “i’m just proud of you for getting your grades up. it’s your first time back dancing in a while so have fun, okay?”

he nods, beaming as he squeezes your hand goodbye. as he leaves, your smile fades. it felt too normal. it felt too right to imagine having a life with niki, like this everyday.

and knowing what you knew now, it was wrong. it was wrong from the start, and yet you couldn't help yourself fall even deeper. you had to get back into the right mental state. you couldn't keep deluding yourself.

it was time to confront the truth.

you can’t believe you’re sneaking into through the school boy’s bathroom again. the locker key safely stored in your pocket, you find danielle’s locker. the same one from the photo she posted.

this had to be the one. you can only hold your breath and hope as you unlock it.

you quickly scramble through all the stuff, looking for the shiny bracelet. you don’t find it, but when you go to close the locker door in defeat, a crumpled up piece of paper falls onto the floor.

you huff, taking it and opening it up. it’s a picture of sunghoon, you, and danielle, all smiling as you three posed for the camera. but it wasn’t just an ordinary picture—there was a big, red “X” scribbled over your face, with the words “finally done” written next to it.

and hearts next to sunghoon’s face.

horrified, you clap a hand over your mouth.

during a break at the dance studio, niki doesn’t expect to open his instagram app and see danielle’s instagram show up on his recently searched. frowning, he taps on the account. he never cared to pay attention to danielle, so why was her account the last thing searched up?

just out of curiosity, he scrolls through her recent posts.

and then he sees it. something that is so hard to miss. it’s so strikingly familiar.

he rushes home. when niki bursts through the front door, he doesn’t expect to find you missing. and when niki notices his old school uniform and cap gone, his heart drops.

you sit on the floor next to the lockers with your head buried on top of your knees. you’re sure you could get caught, but you don’t care.

the crumpled picture feels heavy in your pocket.

you stay there, staring at the walls until you see the moon shining brightly outside one of the windows. you haven’t eaten or drank anything the whole day. you’re not sure how long it’s been.

“y/n!”

great, now you were hearing things as well?

furious footsteps stomp towards you.

“why did you leave without telling me? you could’ve gotten caught-it could’ve been dangerous?!”

“n-niki?” your eyes widen.

before saying anything else, he pulls you up to your feet.

“why would you come to school without me?”

for some reason, his words sting. you cross your arms, “what? like i can’t take care of myself?”

he groans, “that’s besides the point! if someone saw you—“

“i don’t care! so why do you care so—“

a sound from down the hall cuts you both off. you turn to niki in panic and he curses. “the custodian comes on weekends to clean.”

you hold back a yelp as niki grabs your wrist and pulls you along in the opposite direction.

he pushes through a door and turns to the left. you don’t stop until you’re inside the.. natatorium?

“why are we-“

“there are no cameras here, unlike in the school building. i thought you would’ve known that.”

after he speaks, there’s an awkward silence.

niki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “well, are you gonna tell me?”

you feel the frustration flow through your veins, “and what about you? you tell me why i have to let you know my every location? why i feel like i can’t take care of myself, l-like a sick, old dog who can’t go anywhere or do anything? i’m sick of it all!”

“you don’t understand,” his voice raises, and you interrupt him, getting closer and closer to him.

“you’re right, i don’t. i don’t understand why you helped me in the first place. you say that you barely knew who i was, yet here you are acting like you care! like you cared about the dead me!”

at this point, his face is so close to yours, you can feel your breaths mix as neither of you back down.

“i do care! of course i care! about you, standing right in front of me!” he clenches his fists. your eyes linger on a single vein on his neck that sticks out due to the intensity. the fire burning in his eyes, your trembling voices, it all makes you falter.

you don’t know what you asked. you know the truth. niki always cared—more than cared. he always went out of his way to search for you, like the day on the balcony and today. he wanted to find you, he wanted to have you in his life,

you realize it now. to put simply, he wanted you.

and this was the first time you felt wanted.

you don’t know what else to do, so you lean in and close the gap to kiss him. and if anything, niki immediately pulls you closer to him.

when you break apart for air, his dark eyes still staring deep into yours, you think he’s gonna lean back in again. but you hear a faint voice sound, growing louder. your eyes both widen. the janitor.

without a second thought, niki pushes you.

he does it lightly, although it’s still enough to make you lose your balance, and for a second you stare back at him, betrayal evident before you fall backwards—

straight into the pool.

your eyes just barely peek open in the water, and then there’s a splash accompanying yours a few seconds later.

he easily swims to you, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his once more. it was a much different experience from just a few seconds ago.

you stay entwined like that together, eyes squeezed shut, until you actually can’t breathe anymore and you have to smack niki’s arm. you both rise to the top, heaving water and air.

after a few seconds of coughing and gathering your bearings, niki’s raspy voice fills the air.

“at least he’s gone. i’ve always wanted to do that.”

you roll your eyes, splashing water back at him in revenge for pushing you earlier. “seriously? after we got almost got caught? we could’ve drowned!”

you splash him again, “also, you could’ve given me a heads up!”

he grins, wiping the running water free from his face. “and where’s the fun in that?”

you shake your head in amazement, “you’re actually an idiot. i can’t believe you, niki.”

“an idiot who saved us from getting caught.”

after returning home together, you sit and enjoy the peaceful silence as niki dries your hair. your mind can’t help but replay the last few moments, from finding the picture at school to kissing niki, and then finally get pushed into the pool. specifically, the kissing part.

growing sleepy at the soft and warm feeling of niki’s hands running through your hair, you almost don’t hear him when he says, “all done.”

you thank him and he looks around awkwardly.

“what is it?” you squint at him.

“well, i wanted to apologize. i didn’t mean to make to feel that way. i was just really worried about you, and i felt hurt you didn’t tell me why you snuck into school again today. did you not trust me? did i do something wrong?”

you soften, eyes falling to the floor.

“i’m so sorry, niki. i didn’t mean to lash out on you. of course i trust you, i just wanted to do something for myself for once. without needing your or anyone else’s help.”

you exhale, “the reason i left today was for this—“ you take the damp, crumpled picture and unfold it as best as you can.

niki’s hands fall to his side. “oh god.”

“it was danielle. she took my bracelet and i-i think she wanted my boyfriend. i know it has to be her.”

“w-what? but how?”

you shake your head. he goes to hug you.

you feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you won’t waste any tears on her. you pull back to look at niki, with a determined expression on your face.

“you have to catch her and make sure they get what they deserve.”

niki stares at you deeply, “are you sure? because if you are, i won’t stop.”

he wonders why you say you and not we.

at that, you falter.

“no. i never be sure because she is—was my best friend and i will always hold that guilt in me. but you have to do something about it.”

niki’s hold around you tightens, “and what about you?”

you smile, albeit sadly. “you know i can’t stay here, hiding away forever. i don’t belong here. i already existed in your world, and at some point, i have to leave soon. i can feel it.”

it was the same feeling as when you first came here. that day you felt off. the feeling that you don’t belong anywhere, but this time, you feel fulfilled. complete. like you were ready to go back home.

“it’s not something i can explain, but i know it,” you look at him with determined eyes.

and he looks back at you with pained ones.

niki is able to convince jungwon to get his dad to reinvestigate the case again. the picture is given up as evidence, and danielle and haerin are taken in.

the day they confessed out of guilt, you and niki celebrate by sneaking onto your school’s rooftop. the same place where it all started.

it’s a cold and windy night, but you could care less about getting sick. because it was your last day anyway.

you didn’t tell niki, but you had a good feeling—like the world was patting you on the back and saying, “you worked hard.”

the two of you watch the stars, snuggled up and reflecting on how your lives came to be like this. wondering how far away apart your worlds were.

you kiss niki’s cheek, wishing to remember the feeling of being in his arms forever. his scent, his touch, his warmth, you wish you could keep all of it. you smile at him, willing back the tears.

“there was a reason i bumped into you that day, of all people. there was a reason you came into my life, and i came into yours, niki.”

he bites his lip, “y/n... you changed my life. every day with you was better than the last.”

if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up. you trace his face, so it will remain ingrained in your mind forever, even when you go back to your world.

“what will happen when i leave?” you whisper.

“how will you even get back home?”

you shrug, “i don’t know how, but i know that i will.”

niki laughs, “that’s the y/n i know.”

as he kisses you once more, a star falls across the sky.

the next day, you find a ticket in your bag. a train ticket.

you don’t recall having bought one, and you don’t question niki. you only ask him to take you to the train station.

while walking hand and hand, you reminisce on the past month or so. “will we still remember this once you go back to your world?”

your body trembles, “i don’t know.”

“then… will i ever see you again?”

you don’t want to meet his eyes, because you know you’ll cry.

yes, you want to say. instead, you say, “ i don’t know.”

niki wipes a stray tear on your face. you don’t even know how you reached your stop already.

“this is it,” he says.

but neither of you move.

“don’t worry, even if i don’t remember you, you’ll always be in my heart. we’ll meet in your world,” he reminds you while the tears start falling down both of your faces.

“don’t forget that there’s another me out there to annoy you. you just need to search hard.”

you sniffle, playfully pushing him away as you furiously blink away the tears that blur your vision. you needed to soak up the sight of him as much of him as you could.

“i promise i’ll find you again.”

he holds onto you until the very end, until you slip out of his grasp once more.

crossing the platform into the train while giving him one last, slow wave was painful. the last thing you can think of is the fact that you never knew. you never asked for niki’s full name. his real one.

you never knew niki’s name.

and then everything fades into nothing.

that’s the last time niki ever sees you. the train passes by in a flash, blowing his bangs across his face while he tries his best to keep that fake smile on his face for you—all for you before you go.

then, you’re gone.

in those seconds as the train passes, niki knows exactly why he did it. why he helped you through all of it, through everything together.

all because you were there in class. you never looked at him, but he looked at you. he saw all of you, everyday—even if you didn’t know it. all your quirks and habits that he couldn’t help but find cute. you made his days interesting.

but he was the coward for never approaching you. that was his fault because one day, you weren’t there anymore.

and he had to pretend like nothing happened. on the outside, that’s how it was. even if he felt the slightest connection, tiniest pull towards you, you were still strangers.

you were strangers until you knocked into him on the train platform.

niki had to be selfish. he thinks it could have been fate that he saw you again, but now he’s just left with the lingering regret and feelings. those memories flash past like the train does. they come and go in the blink of an eye- a split second.

when the train is gone, niki frowns and wonders why he’s standing there.

he also wonders why it feels like there’s a piece of his heart missing.

after that, he attends your funeral in his world. it was an open funeral to everyone who wanted to come- classmates, friends, and him. niki didn’t even know you that well, but he get this unexpalaniable urge that he should go- he needs to go. he brings flowers and gets to see you one last time.

when niki sees the picture of your serene face, he can’t help but get this sense of peace, like everything’s resolved.

and then he’s free.

epilogue...

you sigh, trudging along the walkway on the way to work. looking at your surroundings, you were getting major deja vu. but at this point, you were used to having episodes like that.

there were many, many times where some things simply felt so familiar. but it was like your memory was wiped and you couldn’t remember why. some times you had flashes of an adventure, a feeling of mystery, a boy.

ever since some day in high school, it just happened. and from then on, you’ve always felt like something was missing. or wrong. you can’t tell. it became a part of you, to the point where you almost forgot about it. that feeling of misbelonging, being just out of reach. it’s strange, like a weird occurrence that makes you want to open your third eye or whatever to find out more.

even after graduating, it never left you.

you being so lost in your thoughts, fail to notice when you bump into someone coming off the train you were about to get onto.

“i’m sorry,” you quickly apologize, but you soon falter when you meet eyes with sparkling brown ones. weirdly enough, they draw you in.

they were familiar, you’ve certainly seen them somewhere. the moment lasts for a while, with the two of you standing still in the middle of the passway, staring at each other.

you slowly smile, extending a hand. “i apologize if i’m mistaken, but have we met before?”

he stares at you too, confused yet enthralled.

“i-i think you may be mistaken,” he starts hesitantly and you begin to apologize.

“are you sure?“ you quickly introduce yourself, “and you?”

you swore you were not such a desperate person, but you couldn’t help it, not this time and definitely not in front of this particularly alluring guy.

“me?”

he takes a quick glance at you before taking your hand with a small smile.

“my name is nishimura riki.”

first i wanted to say thank you for reading! this was a rough time coming, and i wanted to apologize for the long wait. this has actually been a wip of mine for years and i finally was able to finish it with riki after months and months of writing. this past year has been the worst one so far, but i'm just grateful to still be here. just feeling super appreciative for those who stuck with me and waited patiently. thank you. can't wait to see you guys again soon with the next oneshot (hint hint)!

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sincerelybubbles · 12 days

Text

it's a date || spencer reid x reader

masterlist

warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read

word count: 6.1k

You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention.

You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you.

You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.

“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight.

“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind.

You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”

Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain.

“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”

“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”

He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door.

“Just Gideon is fine.”

Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous.

“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.

“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape.

“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”

“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.

“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee.

You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”

You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”

“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”

“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”

You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.

“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”

When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply.

It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.

“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over.

“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”

You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide.

You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge.

Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.

“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove.

“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”

“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh.

“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.

“I’ll give her a call.”

He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor.

He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book.

“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”

“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”

He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.

You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.

“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”

“I would actually love –”

“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”

“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand.

“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”

He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta.

Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart.

You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news.

Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?

You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.

||||

“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting.

You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident.

All FBI, if you had to wager a bet.

“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”

“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well.

“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”

“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face.

“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief.

“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”

“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest.

“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”

“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”

“Sorry?” You ask, startled.

“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”

“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression.

“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere.

“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile.

“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.

“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”

You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder.

“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile.

“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are.

“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted.

“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him.

“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”

||||

Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space.

The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones.

“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically.

“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head.

“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”

You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”

“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name.

The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone.

Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait.

You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in.

“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks.

“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.

“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack.

“Making sandwiches!”

“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”

“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”

“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”

“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”

Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”

You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something.

“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder.

“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”

“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow.

“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”

You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”

||||

“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up.

“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains.

“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”

“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”

“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little.

You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one.

“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted.

“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread.

You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him.

The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it.

“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”

“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes.

“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him.

“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”

“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about.

You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere.

You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable.

“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”

“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away.

“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms.

“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”

“We have to.”

“It certainly works out better when you do.”

“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly.

“And you tried to transfer?”

“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.

“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”

“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”

“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”

“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”

“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”

“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”

||||

“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something.

“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers.

“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging.

“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering.

He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct.

“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”

You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”

“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back.

“Well, thank you?”

“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”

“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”

“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”

“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”

“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”

You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”

“Thank you,” Elle says kindly.

Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored.

You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory.

As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught.

You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street.

Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food.

The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street.

You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs.

“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks.

“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer.

“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”

“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”

“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house.

“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head.

“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”

Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window.

“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology.

You wish he hadn’t.

Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again.

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle.

||||

You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts.

You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway.

Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side.

“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”

You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun.

“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks.

“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”

“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low.

“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”

For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”

The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms.

The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid.

“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy.

The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head.

“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”

The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket.

“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team.

After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway.

“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you.

“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”

“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away.

“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it.

“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”

“How so?”

You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile.

“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”

“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”

“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”

“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”

“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”

Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”

“I’m asking.”

“Okay, then it’s a date.”

i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh

lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!

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bi-writes · 3 months

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so idk where i got this idea but mercenary!ghost x fem!reader because he's scary and mean and dangerous but then he sees some girl's ass in light blue denim.

notes about reader: as always, i tend to write readers described as curvy because im curvy and we deserve attention from 6'4 beefcakes who are soft only for us. reader is a civilian.

mercenary!ghost (part 1/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mentions of ghost's past canon trauma (domestic abuse + violence), mw3 spoilers, violence and gore + mentions of murder and extortion, mentions of reader + domestic abuse, protective!simon, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than simon, easily manhandled by him), pet names (luv, bunny + rabbit, puppy, angel face), reader learns she has a dark side and she likes it, nsfw thoughts about reader, suggestive touching (fem!receiving)

the sound of the burner phone pings on the desk in front of him. when he picks it up, he narrows his eyes as he reads the message displayed across the screen.

DEPOSITED.

when he opens his laptop, his eyes scan over the balance on an offshore account, and he relaxes when he sees the hefty balance climb just a little higher. he closes the device once he's satisfied with what he sees; and like always, he tastes the warmth of that satisfaction. it's a nice high, but it won't last, and then he'll need to feed the gaping hole that lives in him.

it remains hungry. he has never been able to close it--it has only ever gotten wider, ripped at the seams and torn at the edges every time another body close to him drops.

the high is poison. but even if it kills him, no one will miss him. so he picks up the handgun that lays haphazard on the bed, and he tucks it into the back of his jeans.

he passes by the mirror as he fits a dark denim jacket over his shoulders. he stares back at himself, a recognizable beast of a man staring right back. he pulls his hoodie up over him, and in the shadow of it, all he can see are his dark eyes, pale skin peeking through the eyeblack that has lightened up with the wear of it throughout the day.

he craves something strong and warm tonight. he itches for something soft, too, something that makes him forget the red on his ledger, even if for only a few hours.

there is nothing quite strong enough to wipe that kind of stain away. he is nothing if not a reaper, and he buries bodies with the same tenacity that he had when he wore his country's flag on his chest. this time, however, he does not take orders--he names his price.

he thinks something is wrong with him. some used to say that it was his courage that brought him back from the dead--that his heart is too strong, his will to live too much, and that is how he continues to open his eyes and live another day. but he doesn't agree with this thought, because he doesn't really think he feels anything at all.

he doesn't feel human. he doesn't feel alive. the only thing that makes him feel any sort of vulnerability is how red his own blood is when he bleeds. when his scars heal jagged and crooked, it is because there is something underneath the skin. but he feels nothing inside--no remorse, no guilt, he is not sorry.

he does not check to see if those men are innocent. he does not care about the names that end up on his list. he doesn't ask questions. and he thinks something is wrong with him because he sleeps at night just fine now; the nightmares have gone. he is alone, and it is peaceful.

there are no voices. there is only silence. and there is something wrong with him.

the pub is quiet. it is a weekday, and the only patrons are here after a long day's work, and they all look into the depths of their half-empty glasses hoping to find relief there. there is none, but they will finish their glasses hoping it might be dissolved in the alcohol.

he asks for two fingers of bourbon. it stings when it goes down, but then it settles warm. he is poured another two fingers of it, but before he can pick it up, someone else grips the glass and tips it back to swallow it down.

the glass hits the wood of the counter with an echoing thud, and you cough out a fuck as you settle into the seat beside him. you run a trembling hand over your face, and he notices immediately the red of your knuckles and the splitting of the skin there. they are fresh; the bruising is still new, and the blood is just barely beginning run down the back of your hand.

he leans over the bar, swiping the whole bottle of bourbon, and he silently pours more into the glass, hitting it towards you before picking up a new glass and filling it generously.

"who's the lucky bastard?" he asks, and your eyes flick to the cuts on the back of your hand before going back to the dark swirling colors of the drink.

"i'm sure he'll be coming in here any second to introduce himself."

the pub doors slam open, and there is a man coming in, chest heaving, dark hair falling over his forehead in sweaty curls that do nothing to hide the clear bruise on his face the split of his lip. his eyes move over the room before they settle on you, and his boots fall heavy as he makes his way over.

ghost sees his intentions clear immediately. the way his hand twitches at his side, the angry glare, the uncontrollable urge to hurt and to take and to control coming off of him like steam.

he has seen this kind of man before. this man was the one that kept him up at night as a child. this man was the one that scared his mum, that drove his brother to chase vices, that tore apart a house that should've been filled with something warm and sticky and kind into one marred with teeth, rotten and putrid and forgotten.

his hand goes for the back of your neck, and you close your eyes and tense in the anticipation, but it never comes. a strong hand grips his outstretched one, and the man cries out as ghost twists it behind his back and uses his other hand to slam his face into the wood of the bar, trapping him there.

the bartender does not even flinch, just continues to wipe down glasses. the patrons continue to stare into the abyss of their sorrow.

you jump a little, your head snapping to the side where the man squirms and sputters, his face going pale from the paw of a hand gripping him by the back of the neck and shoving his face into the counter. if he pushes any harder, you wonder if it'd splinter and fray, dig into the bones of his bruised cheek.

"this man botherin' ya, yeah?"

your eyes finally flick up. you do not know what you expect, but it isn't this. you can only see his eyes; they scare you. you do not lie because you aren't entirely sure how far his kindness will go.

"yes," you whisper, and when the man tries to spit at you, a rough gloved hand grips his curls and positions his head against the edge of the counter, forcing his mouth open until the top row of his teeth bite the wood.

"y'keep talkin' to her, n'it'll be the last time you talk, hear that, mate? y'talk to me, n'me only."

you swallow hard, and the man trembles. a strong boot hits the back of his knees, and then he's crumbling to the ground, his jaw straining as the counter is still forced against his mouth. hot, pained tears come down his face, and then he addresses you.

"what did he do?"

"bad first date," is all you can manage to sputter. he grips the man by the scruff of his neck before pulling him off to speak, tilting his head to the side as he observes the begging man on his knees.

"y'try to put your hands on'er?"

"i-it wasn't...like that! i-it was just a mis...a misunderstanding, please! please--please tell him--!"

"don't like fuckin' liars either," is the only warning given before his mouth is forced to bite the counter, and then a sharp elbow comes down on his head. you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and you close your eyes when you hear the crunch of teeth being broken. his scream is enough to rattle the pub, but when you look around, it's as if nothing at all has happened. it is quiet, and all the bartender does is shake their head.

when you open your eyes, he's crawling on his hands and knees out of the pub, and what he leaves behind is a mess of blood and teeth and fluid that are splattered against the floor at your feet. you shake as you look up at him, stiff in your seat and soft tears coming down your face.

he towers over you. you have to tilt your head back between your shoulders to look at him face-to-face. you cannot see his face; he hides it behind dark fabric, but his eyes talk loud. they are dark, and they are dull, and you realize as you stare up at him that he is not phased in the slightest by what he had just done. in fact, he steps into your space, and the squelch of blood under his boot doesn't seem to bother him. he wears black, and you wonder, momentarily, if he wears such a color to hide the red hiding between the threads of the fabric. the red he can't wash away.

"let me look at ya, little rabbit."

you flinch when he knocks your knees apart, spreading them to make space for the width of him. he reaches up with one gloved hand and grips your chin, tilting your head to either side to see if you are hurt anywhere but your hand. when he is satisfied with his observations, he cups the expanse of your throat, smoothing those big fingers along the pulsing vein there and feeling the way you swallow.

so alive. so soft. a pretty little bunny, dropped into his waiting hands.

his eyes fall, and he takes you in. wide hips that take up the seat you're sitting in, hugged so nicely by light blue denim jeans. they curve over the swell of your ass, and he wonders how much of it would fit in his palm--he thinks about how it might feel to spread them apart and taste the succulent sweetness that he knows exists between your thighs and how your mouth might look slack jawed and wide open for him.

you look like a good girl, even with bloody knuckles.

then he follows the line of your shirt. it's a simple t-shirt tucked into your jeans, but the neckline gives a nice peek of you and the curve of your tits--they sit so nicely there, all perky, and ghost thinks they look lonely. they would be better off in his mouth or squeezing his cock between them or pebbling between his dirty gloved fingers.

filthy. disgusting. he is scarred all over, and you look so soft and sweet, with those tender puppy eyes and the way your lips tremble, and he bets you kiss all soft and slippery. he bets your cunt is tight and with enough coaxing, he could make you drench his skin with something decadent and slick, with whatever drools into your panties. he imagines it is there now, even as you tremble and shake and plead with your eyes for him to let go of your throat.

but ghost is not a good man. he does not feel; he is not a man at all. he is a beast in the shape of one, disguised, and he brings misery to everything he touches. he knows he will do it to you, too--touching pretty girls, he leaves them with burns. they are not the same after they are with him, and he wants to feel bad about it, he wants to feel something, but he does not. he feels nothing.

"you olright, luv?"

you nod frantically, putting a hand over his wrist that holds you, and he almost laughs. your hand is so much smaller than his own. if he squeezes his hand just a little harder, he figures it would not take much to break what lies beneath it. he leans in, and you gulp when your thighs trap his hips. he is warm, a furnace that burns, but you relax when the side of his mask nuzzles against your face.

he is a dog, and he is fond of you.

you should run. you should hit him like you hit your wretched date, and you should run, far, away from him, swear off men for good and never allow one in your space again lest they be as beastly as this. you should run while you can, but you are a bunny not yet in his trap, and you still have time to escape.

but then both of your eyes open at the same time, and his eyes meet your own, and then--oh.

the cage snaps shut. it rattles around you. it is small and confined, but you don't realize what it is yet because you can still breathe, and it is still warm, and you are still soft and alive and here.

your face softens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips as you lick them. maybe he was right. liars are bad. men like the one you were with before were scum. you had been with men like that before, you had seen the destruction they brought to those they thought they loved. when they wrought fear and made others bleed, they never got in trouble. no one cared to do to them what they deserved because they silenced their lambs and slaughtered the light out of them.

it is biblical--an eye for an eye. if they take from you, why can't you take from them?

it is brutish men like this one that do what others are too timid to. your thighs close around his hips, and you feel something digging into your leg, something metal and heavy tucked into his jeans. a weapon, but you imagine it is a mercy because you have an inkling that what he does with his hands is so much worse. bullets are clean and fast; his hands are not.

johnny would tell him to let you go. he does, over his shoulder, spitting at him to leave, to let you slip through his fingers and find your way out, to open the cage.

the wee lass--look at 'er angel face. let 'er go--not meant for this, LT. she scares. 's in 'er eyes. won't last.

but he does not feel. he is not human. there is something wrong with him, he knows it, but he doesn't care. he will ruin you, and he should feel bad, but he can't, he doesn't. and then there it is--your eyes are flickering low, eyeing the mask, and you are wondering how much effort it would take to push it up and lick into his mouth, taste him, suck the warmth of the bourbon from his mouth and replace it with your own.

he will kill again. the cage is shut, it is locked, and he is watching the bunny in its cage, watching as it becomes aware of its surroundings, takes in what is new. but just like he figures, just like he knows, this little bunny has no idea what this cage is. she has no idea she is even in one.

fuck what johnny says. if johnny was like him, if he was not skin and bone but steel and reptile, he would not have died. he would have come back. he would have moved his head, shaken the blood off, and gotten back up, but he didn't, and he's not here, and he's not real--so fuck what he thinks, fuck what he says, fuck him because he left me, and i'm all alone, and if i don't devour and eat and tear apart, i will wither away because i am not me, i am something else--

he smiles under the mask. you notice it, the slight movement there, and you smile, too, suddenly. his hand falls, and the back of his knuckles graze over the swell of your breast, down your stomach, and then he's gripping your waist. that hand slips behind you, and you brace yourself with both hands on his chest as he cups one side of your ass. possessive and suffocating--you think maybe you should run again, but you don't want to.

you want something more. you want something a little rough, something a little sharp. you want something to tell you that a little blood is good sometimes. that answering blood with a little more blood was exactly how it should be. that we don't have to be docile, to back down. you want to be told that it's okay to bite.

there is something wrong with you.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!ghost #dark!simon riley #dark!simon

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scoonsalicious · 3 months

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Unwanted Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn't be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust. Completed.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

Warnings: 18+ Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here.

"*" indicates explicit sexual content (each chapter will feature its own warnings as needed), language, alcohol/drug use, drunk!Bucky, drunk!/high!Reader, pick-me!oc, angst, mentions of CSA, angst, emotional affair, angst, physical infidelity (dependent on your pov), canon-level violence, emotional trauma, did I mention angst?, some fluffy moments, destructive behavior, injury, medical conditions, poorly translated Russian, unprotected anonymous sex, murder, minor oc character death, mentions of SA and torture, underage drug use, mentions of sex trafficking, mention of child injury.

More will be added as the story progresses, and some chapters will have specific warnings that I will keep under wraps to avoid spoilers. When we get to those sections, I will let you know, so if there is a specific trigger that you absolutely cannot handle, let me know and I will tell you if the section is safe. As always, please let me know if I miss any warnings.

Word Count: 155.2k

A/N: And here I present unto you, my beloved, the fruit of my labors these many past moons. Seven months in the making. My magnum opus.

Tumblr says this post has too many links, so for Chapters 27, 28, 29, and 30 (the epilogue), please use the navigation links in the first part of each chapter.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Part 1 (Posted 3/6/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/6/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/6/24) Part 4 (Posted 3/6/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/8/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/8/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/9/24) Part 4 (Posted 3/9/24) Part 5 (Posted 3/9/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/10/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/10/24) Part 3* (Posted 3/10/24)

Part 1* (Posted 3/11/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/12/24) Part 3* (Posted 3/13/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/15/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/15/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/16/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/17/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/17/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/18/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/19/24) Part 3* (Posted 3/19/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/21/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/22/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/23/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/24/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/26/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/26/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/27/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/28/24)

Part 1 (Posted 3/29/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/30/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/31/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/01/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/02/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/03/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/04/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/04/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/05/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/6/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/7/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/7/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/8/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/8/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/9/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/9/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/10/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/10/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/11/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/11/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/11/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/12/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/12/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/12/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/13/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/13/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/13/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/13/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/14/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/14/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/14/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/15/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/15/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/15/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/15/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/16/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/17/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/17/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/18/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/19/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/19/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/19/24) Part 5* (Posted 4/20/24) Part 6 (Posted 4/20/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/20/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/21/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/21/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/21/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/22/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/22/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/22/24)

Part 1 (Posted 2/23/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/23/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/23/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/23/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/23/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 6 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 7 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 8 (Posted 4/24/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/25/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/25/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/25/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/26/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/26/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/26/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/26/24)

Part 1 (Posted 4/27/24) Part 2* (Posted 4/27/24)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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beekeep · 1 year

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Saw this post floating around, don’t wanna target anyone or argue with Zionists, but it is my duty (especially as an actually indigenous Jew) to educate well-meaning gentiles who might see this and think they have no right to speak on the matter. I’ll go point by point.

1) “Is it so terrible for a Jew to be a Zionist?”

If we were living in any other era, where the genocidal crimes of Israel were not as widely known (though they were very well documented), you could perhaps ask this question in sincerity. Many Jews (such as myself) grow up in religious educational settings which either fail to mention the human rights violations of the state or claim they’re justified because “they want to kill us!” Past a certain point, though, one can’t continue to claim ignorance of what Zionism actually does. Short answer: yes, it is terrible for anyone to claim to be a Zionist, but this will be more evident as I continue to analyze these arguments.

2) “Zionism is the belief in the inherent right of the Jewish people to return to their homeland”

First of all, Palestine is not the “homeland” of the Jewish people any more than Siberia is the homeland of indigenous american tribes. Is there a historical connection? Yes, but though assimilation and migration Jews have found homes across the world. For me, my homeland is Mexico, because my family has lived there for generations, partly through migration but mostly through having cultivated the land for millennia. Even biblically speaking, Palestine does not “belong” to the Jewish people, it belongs to G-d. Furthermore, there is no shortage of Jewish scholarship and activism that asserts that wherever we live, that is our homeland. Frankly, I’m more interested in fighting to stay where I am than fighting to force people out of their homes to accommodate me.

3) “Zionism is the belief in the Jewish right not to be murdered”

By murdering others instead? Once again, there is no shortage of Jewish scholarship and activism in favor of Jewish self defense where we live. Jewish resistance fighters lived and died fighting the nazis in Europe under the third reich. If Zionism was actually interested in preventing Jewish death, it would fight antisemitism where it is. “Preventing murder” is not an excuse to commit genocide.

4) “there are so many definitions of Zionism”

Sorry but I just think of this tweet from @jewdas on Twitter when I read this: “There’s a actual existing Zionism which practices apartheid and denial of human rights. But there’s another Zionism inside my head which is all rainbows and kosher marshmallows, so who can say which is the real Zionism?” In other words, the actual, material consequences of Zionist beliefs are more important than what any individual thinks their Zionism is. Once again, we live in the Information Age, where anyone can easily learn about the damage that Zionism has done in Palestine and abroad. There is no excuse to continue using the label that doesn’t presuppose complete ignorance of Israeli violence.

5) “zionists just want to be safe from antisemitism in the diaspora”

See points 3 & 4.

6) “and this is different from evangelical zionists”

Materially speaking, not really. Once again, see point 4. Until you pull all US/european colonial support for Israel, this claim falls flat.

7) “zionists just want to live peacefully with other indigenous people in the area”

That’s not what indigeneity is, it doesn’t mean “from there,” it’s a specific relationship to the land and to its cultivation. (On a side note, even biblically and historically speaking, Jews are not “from” Palestine.) See point 2. Zionism has proven it is not a peaceful ideology. See point 4.

8) “people refuse to see the difference in types of Zionism because they hate the Jews”

No, it’s because there are no material differences. See point 4. Evangelical Zionism and Jewish Zionism actually share quite a bit in common. The “Jewish state” would not exist without evangelical Zionists. See point 6. And the original Jewish Zionist thinkers had a vested interest in tying the two together.

tl;dr, Zionism is a violent ideology in practice, and no amount of making excuses can hide the fact that it is genocidal and serves European/American interests. Additionally, just because one is not Jewish does not mean one does not have a duty and an obligation to eliminate Zionism wherever it crops up. Zionism has had disastrous consequences for Palestinians, and as western citizens, we benefit from their suffering. It must end now. May Palestine be freed in our lifetimes.

#Free Palestine

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mooshywrites · 4 months

Text

Bedtime Stories

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - Halsin has ran himself ragged with bedtime stories, his charges demanding to hear a tale or two every night. He comes to you for help, hoping you have a few stories to spare. Unfortunately, this simple ask is going to leave the two of you with very little sleep tonight

Word count - 3.3K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, fingering, dirty talk, size difference, vaginal penetration, cream pie, established relationship, smut with plot, minor spoilers, mentions of past violence

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“And that’s when I knew I was a goner.” Halsin said, his voice low and serious. You stifled a giggle, worried it would pierce right through the tense air. There wasn’t a single breath taken in the expansive silence.

”What happened next?” A tiny voice whispered from the semi circle before Halsin. It came from a tiny tiefling girl, one that was hanging on every single word of the Druid’s story.

It was adorable watching them, watching your love tell tales to the children you were charged with taking care of. He was rather animated in his stories, hushed voices and sweeping gestures, speaking of beasts and demons and giant brains touched down to earth to take over the land.

The kids ate the stories up. Listened to him as if it were the last story they would ever hear. Each one of them could throw quite the impressive fit in the evening, demanding that Halsin talk them to sleep. He always gave in, sometimes having to make something up on the spot. You would think that with as long as he’s been alive, he would have plenty of stories to tell, but you knew all too well that most of those stories couldn’t be told to little ears.

You loved the evenings, though. Loved watching the gentle giant try his best to calm the terrifying horde of children. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as you looked over the kids. Most of them had the same story. Lost and forgotten children, victims of the horror that occurred a few months earlier.

Only a few of them had actually told you what happened to them, but it was more or less consistent. Their parents had been killed, turned, or were simply missing in the fight against The Absolute. You didn’t know during the journey itself how many villages had been affected by the cult, but each one of these cubs were a testament to how deep the violence ran.

You could still remember the look on Halsin’s face when you came across a tiefling orphan in the streets of lower Baldur’s Gate. There they were, standing over their parents' bodies. The two older tiefling had been unfortunate murders dedicated to the god of murder himself, Bhaal. The Druid’s face hardened, his words harsh as he wondered how many children had been affected in a similar way

That little tiefling was one of the first that Halsin scooped up to rescue.

Since then, you acquired quite the group of wayward souls. What was it that Halsin said? Right, nine wagons full of the little angels. At first you had been completely overwhelmed at the thought of so many little mouths to feed, little minds to grow, little hearts to mend. But Halsin took it all on the chin, always seeming to know exactly what to say or do.

Yet, the panicked look he’s giving you right now? Maybe your bear wasn’t equipped to handle all of what the children required.

“Then…” You started, beginning to move around the semi circle of kids, your voice sinister and low.

The kids' attention turned to you, eyes wide and expecting. You could’ve laughed at how intensely they were staring, but you knew you had quite the show to put on if you didn’t want to be mauled by a pack of rabid cubs.

”Then Halsin stalked around the cave, trying his best to appease the Mother Owlbear. He knew with one wrong step…” You paused for a dramatic moment, making eye contact with as many of them as you could, “And he would be swallowed up in one gulp.”

You heard Halsin scoff and ignored it, seeing the reaction ripple through your tiny audience.

”How would the owl bear even eat Daddy Halsin!” A particularly brave kid questioned.

A valid question. My spur of the moment storytelling probably wouldn’t withstand professional attention to plot holes

”Well, because,” You pondered, standing up straight again. “The owl bear was the biggest one we’ve ever seen. Just one of its claws was bigger than any one of you little cubs.”

One of the kids, a pale ginger half elf, stifled a shriek. She clung to her brother who was putting on a very good show of bravery, though he was a shade paler than usual.

Note to self - Less scary, more story

”If you want to know how Daddy Halsin escaped, you all have to be good and get some sleep.” You ended, putting on a warm smile.

Groans echoed around you, the kids obviously not happy with the cliffhanger in their bedtime story.

“Aht, ah, ah, lovelies. Bad kids who don’t listen to Miss Daddy Halsin get eaten by giant owl bears.”

That seemed to do the trick, the children scrambling over themselves to crawl into their bedrolls. Halsin had let them choose where to put their beds, most choosing to sleep in the equivalent of a pile in the corner of the grove. A few slept a few feet away, but the proximity to your quarters seemed to keep all of their mind’s at ease.

You smiled as Halsin came bumbling toward you, a tired smile gracing his features, “You’re always better at getting them to bed than I am, my heart.” He muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. You leaned into the touch, his large hand warming the small of your back.

”What can I say, terrorizing kids is my specialty.” You teased, looking over the bundles of furs. You hadn’t realized how heavy your shoulders felt until now, how hard it was to keep your eyes open.

Ever perceptive, Halsin knew how exhausted you were as soon as you did. He chuckled softly and let you go, “Go on to bed, sweet. I will kiss foreheads.”

Any other day, you might’ve argued. Kissing everyone goodnight was one of your favorite parts of the night. But you were tired, and, well… there were a lot of foreheads.

You padded towards the large stone door, making your way to the room you and Halsin shared. When the children first arrived, it made you nervous to think of them out in the open, separated by a thick slab of rock. Practically no sound got past the opening, after all. Halsin kissed away your worries, assuring you there were a plethora of animals who would keep careful watch over them. Half of which were even nocturnal.

Without any worries, and a slight feeling of fatigue in your bones the sight of your bed was a beautiful, beautiful scene. You sat on the edge of the bed, idly running your hands across the deep set carvings etched into the wood. It had taken weeks to convince Halsin to make you a bed frame, even longer to convince him to actually sleep on the bed and not the ground. After enough pleading and many a kiss, he finally completed the process, even detailing the wood with his whittling tools.

It didn’t seem long before Halsin appeared in the wide doorway, expression light. “Those little ones will surely be the death of me.”

”I’ve heard it said that being around children makes you feel young again.” You mused, tucking your legs under the thin blankets.

“Whoever says that is a fraud. They only make me feel much, much older.” He laughed, coming over to sit at your feet. “They love your stories, my heart. Perhaps you should be in charge of that for now.”

”No, I simply couldn’t.” You said decisively, shaking your head for good measure.

“And why not?” Halsin asked incredulously, hands coming up to rub your feet. You knew that his movements were a thinly veiled attempt at bribery, but you wouldn’t be weak enough to fall for it this time.

”They like your stories more.” You shrugged, letting your eyes flutter shut as you enjoyed the massage. “I like your stories more as well.”

”It’s difficult to tell stories with you around.” He said quietly, eyes trained on you. You met his gaze, seeing a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

That smile never meant anything good.

“What do you mean?” You asked simply, feigning ignorance. You could try to ignore the way his hands moved higher up to your calf, but you knew that focus would be short lived. No, if the Druid wanted your attention, he would have to earn it.

“I mean… How am I supposed to be present enough to tell a story when nature’s most beautiful creation herself is standing mere feet away from me?” His voice was a half a note lower than usual, barely perceptible if it were anyone but the man you loved.

”You flatter me.” You whisper, not trusting your voice to hide the way heat began crawling its way through your stomach.

Halsin leaned in, pressing a kiss against your jaw. His words tickled your skin, warm breath brushing over your ear as he spoke, “Oak Father, preserve me, how am I supposed to focus on anything when your sweet scent washes over me at even your nearness?”

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind already becoming fogged with clouds of desire. “Maybe you are just less skilled at focusing than I am.” You responded.

He pulled back for a moment, still smiling grinning. “You think you can get through a story while being distracted?” He prodded

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. You knew the feeling that crawled through the back of your mind. It was the same one you had when you knew you were about to walk face first into a trap. One you just couldn’t place, exactly.

“I suppose so.” You countered, arms coming up to cross in front of you. “What story would you like to hear?”

”Hmm.” He thought aloud, pausing for a moment. You found your gaze fawning over him during the brief break, appreciating the way his shoulders flexed, his hands never pausing the foot rub. “Tell me the story of how we first met.”

”That’s it? What’s the catch?” You inquired suspiciously

“Catch? Why would there be a catch, my heart?” His expression screamed ‘innocent’ but your intuition screamed ‘SCHEMER’

“Fine. I’ll tell you how we met without getting distracted.” You started, leaning back against the wall. “I had heard you had gotten captured at the goblin camp. A very intelligent move by th-“

You faltered slightly as Halsin leaned back forward, lips brushing over your collarbone. You could practically feel him smirk against you, words muffled slightly, “Why did you stop? Distracted already?”

You felt a surge of defiance, a deep sense of determination against his taunting. It didn't matter how flushed your cheeks felt at the current moment, you would be getting through this story.

You would be the one to win.

Your voice continued on, a bit shakier than before, “So I decided I needed to break you out.”

Halsin’s lips continue to mold against your skin, peppering slow, teasing kisses along your shoulder. “I asked around quite a bit about you, but no one seemed to know exactly where you were.”

You caught another gasp as Halsin’s hands wrapped around the small of your back, toying with the ties of your bodice.

No. Focus.

”When I realized I would either need to break or sneak into the goblin camp, I also realized I was much too weak for either.”

“Mnm” Halsin responded, signaling you on.

Only, it was difficult to continue on. You felt the ribbon of your dress completely loosened, the delicious warmth of the Druid’s hands against your bare back. You swallowed thickly, trying your best to ignore the feeling.

“I needed to get stronger, so I could save the helpless first Druid,” You muttered, annoyance obviously present as you tried your best to keep your thoughts straight.

”Oh, my heart.” Halsin murmured, deftly pushing the fabric off of your shoulders and down to your waist. You shivered slightly, feeling your nipples pebble through the material of your underclothes. Halsin’s attention went straight towards the raised mounds, a strange sort of irreverent glint in his eyes. He looked back up at you, smiling softly. “You don’t know the meaning of helpless.”

With that, his mouth dipped down, catching a clothed breast in a gentle nip. You had to grate your teeth tightly to avoid the moan caught in your throat, thoughts holding on to your “story” by the thinnest of threads.

”Given up?” Halsin whispered again, a rough palm coming up to cup the other breast, kneading so lightly you might’ve been imagining it.

“No!” You snapped, eyebrows coming together as you mustered all the focus you could manage. ”When I finally found you, I never thought you’d be a-“

You couldn’t help the whimper that took over your sentence as Halsin dragged a thick finger over your clothed core. Your mind short circuited, wetness gathering almost immediately at a simple touch.

You knew, deep down, that Halsin had won. That it was hopeless to think you could’ve ignored his… distractions… in the first place. How were you supposed to ignore the way his mouth skillfully worked in tandem with his hand, the way his free hand had snuck up to render you speechless?

The only response the elf gave you was a low chuckle, his gentle touch beginning to rub circles around your heat devilishly slow. The sly cur, he wouldn’t even take the satisfaction of bragging of his win.

No, instead, he would just continue to see you undone by his hand.

”You're a cheater.” You whimpered quietly, finally giving up the game.

”And you, my heart,” He murmured, shifting in the bed slightly, “Are a sore loser.”

“Just… just touch me.” You responded, refusing to give him any more defiance than he already had broken in you.

Your druid was ever so gentle as he removed the rest of your clothes, leaving gentle kisses along your skin as the fabric slid off. Every touch, every movement left a deep need coursing through your veins. You might’ve been embarrassed by the depth of your desire if your mind had any room for such thoughts.

But no. The only thing your thoughts would entertain right now was him.

”By Silavanis’s grace.” Halsin whispered, leaning back, hungry gaze taking you in. “Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”

Your cheeks reddened further, arms coming up to shield your intimate parts from his attentive eyes. You were never the best at taking compliments, Especially ones as beautifully and lovingly crafted as the words Halsin used.

”Do not hide yourself from me, my heart. Do not deprive me of your beauty.” His hands gently pried yours away, his smile gentle.

”I’m just feeling a little overdressed.” You said, gesturing to the fully clothed Druid in front of you.

“I suppose you’re right, my sweet.” He grinned, hands working quickly to rid himself of his clothes.

You took the opportunity to marvel at the man’s physique. The way his tan skin shone in the candle light, scars shining. His muscles pulled and relaxed as he moved, the entirety of him an artfully designed creation.

It didn’t take long for his lips to come back down to yours, catching you in a passionate kiss. It was slow and purposeful, his arms wrapping around you to pull you flush against him. His grasp was strong, his skin deliciously warm against you. Calloused hands found their way to exactly where Halsin knew you needed them, one on the soft mound of your chest, the other under the curve of your ass.

Your lips worked just as eagerly against him, small moans escaping occasionally. Your hands clung onto his arms, hips already beginning to push up desperately.

”Patience, my heart.” Halsin’s voice was low, rasped, clearly holding on to the last bit of rationale he had left.

You couldn’t seem to help yourself, pushing your hips harder, wetness dragging along his hard member.

”Oak father, preserve me.” He growled, gripping your hip harshly. If it were anyone but Halsin, his tone may have made you nervous. But with him… it only made you crave him more.

”Please, Halsin. Please, I need you.” You begged, not caring how you’d been rendered undone so easily.

You weren’t left wanting for long, Halsin shifting slightly to press the soft tip of his cock against your entrance. You clenched around nothing, whimpering with need.

Halsin winced, showing much more control than you could manage. “You must relax, my heart. Breathe deeply.”

You took a deep breath and held it, preparing yourself for the inevitable stretch of Halsin’s rather endowed length. It had taken twice as long to get this far your first time laying together, you thought he would split open completely. But now, your impatience was wearing thin.

As if he could read your inner dilemma, Halsin finally gave you what you wanted. The tension melted from your body, your breath rushing out as an airy moan when you felt him push into you. “God’s above!” You whined, trying to acclimate to the stretch.

Halsin’s brow was furrowed, mouth in a thin line as he looked down at where the two of your body’s met, “You look so perfect with my cock inside of you, my heart. So perfect.”

You would’ve returned the compliment, thought of something else to say, that is if Halsin hadn’t chosen that moment to thrust all the way into your awaiting cunt. You cried out in pleasure, Halsin giving you no more time to adjust as he set forth a harsh pace. Every other breath was a moan, the sound of Halsin’s labored breaths shock waves to your core.

His hand came up to cover your mouth, trying his best to muffle your lewd sounds as his head dipped against yours.

”My heart…” He murmured. “Mine.”

His tone was graveled, possessive, and you could tell instinct was taking over already. Your own heat clenched in response, earning another harsh growl from your gentle giant.

“Halsin, I’m-“ You stuttered, your mind not able to take in both the pleasure and sweet burn from his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt.

“I know, my heart.” He choked out, his thrusts becoming quicker. He drilled into you with short deep pumps, sweat beading across his forehead. “Silvanus himself couldn’t create a more beautiful sight.” He whispered lowly, his hips starting to thrust more erratically. “Not more beautiful than you filled with my seed.”

With that, your cord snapped.

Your heat clenched tightly, incoherent moans muffled against Halsin’s hand. Your vision was blurry, pure ecstasy running like molten lava through your veins. You felt Halsin’s own release erupt into you with a growl, his teeth nipping at your ear as he followed through with his words.

For a moment or two, you both stayed like that, heavy breaths as you came back to the land of the living after such intense highs. When Halsin’s hand left your mouth and began to trace affectionate circles along your cheek, you finally trusted your voice enough to speak.

”I suppose I’m ready to admit defeat.” You smiled, bathing in the warmth of Halsin’s affectionate gaze.

“Surely you didn’t think I would’ve let you best me in the art of bedtime stories?” He chuckled, landing a kiss against your nose.

”We really must be careful doing things like this.” You teased, pointing to where the two of you remained connected. “We’re going to end up with yet another little one to take care of.”

You squealed into a giggle as he rolled the two of you over suddenly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You snuggled into his warmth, deciding that cleaning up would better be left for tomorrow. Right now you were content being tucked into Halsin’s strong, steady arms.

“Oh, I’m not sure, my sweet.” Halsin smiled, eyes meeting yours with a look full of love and affection,

“What’s one more?”

#halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #bg3 #baldurs gate halsin #halsin smut #halsin fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #halsin x you #baldurs gate x you #baldurs gate x reader #the ideal man

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cherienymphe · 5 months

Text

Teenage Dirtbag V (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Happy New Year *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You narrowly missed the hanger coming your way as Rafe ripped dress after dress out of your closet, clothes and hangers flying around the room as a result of his rage. You could do nothing but stand there with your arms folded over your chest, biting the inside of your cheek as you stared at him with a tearful glare. You flinched when a dress hit you square in the chest, and it wasn’t long before Rafe’s face was right in front of yours.

“Sometimes I swear you do this shit on purpose.”

“My mother bought me this dress, you know she bought me this dress-.”

“…and I hated it then for the same reasons I hated it today.”

You swallowed at the words he spat in your face, and when he moved closer you turned your head. Rafe was quiet for some time, just staring at you while you stared at your bathroom door. His breathing was even, so the deep breath he took was noticeable.

“Do you like being stared at like…like a piece of meat?” he quietly wondered.

“What kind of question is that?” you slowly asked, facing him.

Rafe’s hair kissed his forehead, strands going every which way as a result of his actions. His blue eyes were cold as he stared you down, a frown on his face.

“One I expect an answer to.”

He blinked at you, and you shifted on your feet.

“Of course not,” you whispered.

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Rafe-.”

“I have eyes, you know,” he bit out, backing away from you and kicking a stray dress on the floor. “You think I didn’t see the way some of my dad’s friends were looking at you? You knew exactly what you were doing.”

A few tears spilled over at his words, and you quickly wiped your face. The sequined dress you currently had on was a holiday gift from your own mother last year. She’d loved it, and you’d loved it too, but when Rafe told you he wasn’t crazy about it, you really hadn’t given it much more thought. You just filed it away under one of those dresses you could only wear once a year.

You hadn’t expected a fight to break out over the sight of it.

Rafe’s jealousy fueled rampage only served to make you feel even worse. He spoke about Ward’s friends like it was something you wanted and not something that made you deeply uncomfortable. You did not relish in the attention from men old enough to be your father—some of them older than your own father—and having that thrown in your face just made you angry.

“Fuck you,” you defeatedly whispered.

Rafe snapped his head up, a glint in his eye as his face evened out.

“Excuse me?”

You wiped your face again, shaking your head.

“I said fuck you. Fuck you for throwing that in my face like I wanted that,” you tearfully continued. “Like I wasn’t uncomfortable-.”

Your words were cut off when Rafe gripped your chin and cheeks, pressing his fingers and thumb into your skin so harshly you winced.

“Well, maybe you should’ve worn a different dress.”

He shoved you away from him, causing you to stumble in your heels. He stared you down, challenging you to say something else, and you could only stare back, thinking to yourself that you wanted to be as far away from Rafe as possible. With a scoff, you stomped past him, unsurprised when you heard him right on your heels.

“…and where do you think you’re going?”

He stopped you at the top of the stairs with a harsh grip on your elbow, forcing you to face him.

“Away from this house, away from you, I don’t care,” you choked out. “Anywhere.”

“Well, maybe you should go buy a whole new wardrobe while you’re out,” he told you, a small smirk on his lips. “Who knows what I might do to that one in there.”

You pushed at his hand, trying to get him to let go when he shook you. You stumbled, a foot falling to a lower step, and you sharply inhaled. Rafe only chuckled, tilting his head to eye your foot.

“Careful,” he warned you. “My hand might just slip, and then you won’t be going anywhere.”

“Let go of me,” you demanded, and Rafe did, but not without a slight shove attached.

If your other hand hadn’t been on the railing, you would’ve stumbled down more than three steps. You hissed when your knee hit the wood, and pushing yourself to your feet was futile when Rafe shoved you again with a knee to your back. You were just barely able to throw your hands out to break your fall, a pained cry escaping at the flare in your knees as you hit the bottom.

His footsteps were loud as he cleared the remaining steps, and you were about to attempt to push yourself to your feet again when the harsh feel of his palm was on your head, pushing you down.

“Try to get up again, and I’ll rip your hair out.”

You froze, sitting back down as you kept your tearful gaze on the floor.

Your parents were still at the Camerons’, so the house was quiet save for your heavy breathing. Being alone with Rafe was always either good or downright terrifying. There was no in between. You didn’t move when he slowly started to move his fingers over your scalp, nothing soothing about the action. You heard your boyfriend heave a deep sigh.

“You’re the one who ruined this night…not me,” he slowly said, and you swallowed. “So, maybe a drive around the block will do you some good. Help you clear your head.”

Rafe shoved your head away from him before turning around, and you wiped your face.

“Don’t make me come find you,” were his parting words as he ascended the stairs.

You sat on the floor for what felt like way too long before finally pushing yourself to your feet. Your vision was blurry as you reached for your keys, and you quietly closed the door behind you, recalling the last time you dared to slam the door after a fight. You felt no solace when you slid into your car and started it up, more tears spilling over as you backed out of the driveway.

It wouldn’t be the first time you needed a moment to yourself after a fight, and like every other time, even your alone time was micromanaged. When Rafe didn’t want to see your face as much as you didn’t want to see his, he sent you on your way, and you chuckled at the thought of what would happen if you were gone too long. The AirTag on your car would just lead him straight to you, and you never enjoyed being dragged back like some dog in the street.

A drive or two around the block wouldn’t be enough, and before you realized it, you found yourself parked at the beach. The sight of the sand and water brought you back down to earth for all of five minutes, just staring through your windshield with parted lips. You suddenly had the brief urge to just…drive into the ocean. The thought took you by surprise because truthfully, as awful as Rafe had been to you, ending it all had never crossed your mind…and you didn’t even know why.

You didn’t think you had any hope that things would get better…but you also didn’t know if death would be better. Your future with Rafe was known. You knew what you had to look forward to, to endure. Nothing about death was known to you. For some reason, that uncertainty paralyzed you with fear. Even if you had the guts to do it, you weren’t alone…

You glanced down the beach at the small fire you saw, people crowded around it. It wasn’t some huge party or anything, appearing to be a relatively small group, but it seemed just enough people to be considered one. You just stared at them with a small frown, thinking on how differently their night was going.

Staring at your steering wheel, you thought about how you’d drive back to your house and walk inside to greet your boyfriend. Rafe would be waiting for you, staring at you with that look and how he wouldn’t apologize until you did. You’d admit you shouldn’t have worn the dress and then he’d say he hated when you made him act that way. He’d kiss you, maybe even pull you into a hug, and then you’d go upstairs like nothing happened.

You were pulled from your thoughts by a tap on your window, startled by the sound.

The last person you expected to see was JJ Maybank.

Your lips parted as you stared at him through your window, a frown slowly taking over as he had the gall to lean on your car. You weren’t quite sure what to do next. Not only was he the last person you expected to see tonight, but your last conversation with him was unfortunately something that had yet to leave your mind.

Staring at him through the glass, you recalled staring at the bruising on his face as he stood so close to you. He’d been too close, and you’d allowed it, and if you hadn’t had the sense of mind to slap his hand away, you didn’t want to linger on what might’ve happened next. Would he have kissed you just as he theorized doing? You wouldn’t have let him, of course, but you’d never forget the look on his face.

JJ Maybank was very dangerous for you to be around.

…and yet you found yourself getting rid of the barrier between you.

“If you came to join the party, you’re a little late,” were his first words to you. “Everyone’s breaking off, going to some other party or whatever.”

You glanced behind him, noticing the fire was now out and people were splitting up as he’d said.

“No,” you told him with a shake of your head. “I just came here to clear my head for a little bit.”

The blond was eyeing you when you looked back at him, and you didn’t think you liked how intently he was doing it.

“Rough night…?”

“I guess you could say that.”

You didn’t know why you said that instead of denying it. Maybe it was because you could feel how puffy your eyes probably were, and alluding to anything other than the truth would just insult his intelligence. A silence descended over you two, and you couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not. You knew that Rafe would bash your head into the mirror for even daring to talk to JJ, and somehow that didn’t stop your next words.

“Where are you headed?”

You didn’t know if you were still angry about the whole dress debacle or what, but you liked to think that anger was fueling your decision to offer JJ a ride when he told you he was heading to Sarah’s. JJ only raised an eyebrow at you.

“Do you have daddy’s permission to do that?”

“Please don’t refer to Rafe as ‘daddy’ ever again,” you sighed.

“Why not?” he wondered. “You probably do.”

You threw him a look, watching him chuckle.

“Besides, you knew exactly who I was referring to, and that’s all that matters.”

You found yourself regretting your choice almost immediately, but you still unlocked the door when JJ made his way around to the passenger side. It felt weird to have anyone other than Rafe sitting in your car, but especially JJ. He smelled like the burning wood he’d just been around, and the aroma filled your vehicle. When you asked him if the heat was too much, he kept his gaze on you as he told you it was okay.

“You know Sarah’s parents are having some fancy party, right?”

When you glanced at JJ, he was already looking at you, that cheeky grin on his lips.

“What are you trying to say? That I’ll stick out like a sore thumb?”

There was no point in denying that was exactly what you meant, but JJ only laughed to himself.

“I know,” he told you. “John B.’s picking her up at about 11, so he might as well take us both back to The Cut.”

You nodded at that, agreeing with his logic.

“Unless you want to do the honors,” the blond drawled.

When you glanced at him, you could see that he wasn’t joking, and you only shook your head.

“It’s time I start heading back home, anyway. It’s why I don’t mind dropping you off at Sarah’s since it’s on the way.”

There was a brief pause.

“Have you ever even been to the other side of the island?”

You didn’t know why he asked. You both knew the answer to that question and when—to no one’s surprise—you shook your head, JJ hummed. You didn’t know what that meant, and you looked at him again. Only, for once since he got into your car, he wasn’t looking at you. The blond was staring out of the windshield, but you didn’t miss the small smirk that danced along his lips.

“We’ll have to change that…”

You didn’t know what to say to that, thinking to yourself that the likelihood of it ever happening was low. The rest of the ride was quiet, and when you finally made it to the Camerons’, something in you didn’t want to leave. You wanted to say it had everything with not wanting to return to Rafe, but as you watched JJ exit your car…you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

“You look much better since the last time I saw you.”

JJ leaned his hands on your window sill, and you watched him blink at you, seemingly deep in thought.

“Thanks…I wish I could say the same about you…”

You pulled your lip between your teeth at that, hating the way the blond stared at you. When he thanked you for the ride, you only nodded with a small smile, glancing at the clock and telling yourself you had maybe five more minutes before Rafe started blowing up your phone. You resisted the urge to park your car and instead prepared yourself to drive back to your boyfriend.

The sound of buzzing was what pulled you from sleep. It wasn’t the kind accompanied by one single text but instead a phone call—continuous. It took you a minute to realize you’d fallen asleep on the couch—waiting up for Rafe—and that was exactly where the phone call found you. It wasn’t too late when you checked the time, only a little past 10, and Rafe’s text told you that he was still tied up with Ward and probably would be for another hour.

Both had left the Cameron house hours ago.

You were pulled from your thoughts by your phone again, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t Rafe who’d been calling you. You stared at the unfamiliar number in confusion for probably too long, debating on if you should answer or not. Against your better judgement, you did.

“Hello…?”

You sat up with a groan, glancing around the dark house and surmising that everyone else was asleep.

“It’s JJ.”

Those two words removed any remnants of sleep left, eyes widening and lips parting as you felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over you. You blinked a few times, in disbelief and confusion, and you struggled with what to say next. It was the middle of the night, and JJ Maybank was calling you.

“What…? Why...why are you…?” you rubbed your forehead. “How did you…?”

You couldn’t finish a single question, but you were sure JJ understood you loud and clear.

“I stole your number from Sarah,” he answered, making you frown. “I’m outside.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach at that, and you frantically turned around. You craned your head to look out of the window as you stumbled to your feet. Sure enough, there was a familiar van outside and a familiar blond standing next to it. More concerned with Rafe coming home and catching him in the yard, you were in a hurry to see what he wanted.

JJ spoke up though before you could manage to find your shoes.

“I just need more of those painkillers you gave me…”

You paused at that, frown easing some as you started to understand.

“My dad wasn’t in the best of moods this morning and since I have the Twinkie for the day…I figured I’d come to the best plug in town.”

“Don’t call me that,” you whispered.

“Well, nothing else I’ve ever taken took the edge off like that, so…”

Something about the way JJ’s voice trailed off in combination with his tone had you reaching for your purse. You started to ask him how bad it was, but then you figured you’d be seeing just how bad it was pretty soon, anyway. As your feet carried you towards the door, you were in a bit of a shock to think that JJ was outside the Cameron house waiting for you to pass along prescription drugs. It didn’t feel real, but you had to remind yourself that it was indeed very real because if Rafe came home early…

There would be nothing unreal about his anger.

“How did you know I was here?” you asked the blond as he met you halfway.

“Let Sarah tell it, you’re almost always here.”

You eyed him as you handed him a familiar pill, drinking in the sight of a bruise under his eye. JJ didn’t comment on the scrutiny, opting for popping the pill instead. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him even if you wanted to, feeling too many things at the sight of his swollen lip. You weren’t even thinking about Rafe…

“I’m really sorry, JJ,” you whispered.

His gaze met yours at your words, and he shrugged. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to play it off or if he was really just that used to it.

“Don’t be,” he told you. “It’s not your fault.”

“Why don’t…?” you trailed off, wondering if it was your place. “Why don’t you stay with John B. or Pope or something? They’re your friends, and I’m sure their parents wouldn’t be completely against it.”

You watched JJ sigh, turning to look away while running his hand through his blond locks.

“I probably should,” he admitted. “…but…”

He shrugged, looking at you with an eyeful of excuses.

“He’s my dad, you know.”

You gave him a look that let him know you didn’t agree with that, at all.

“JJ…”

Your tone made him smile, pink lips slowly curving upwards as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Gone was the battered teenager and instead the cheeky blond you were used to seeing. You didn’t think you liked the way he looked at you, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You worried about me?”

“Yes, actually,” you honestly replied. “I am.”

His smile dimmed some, but he still let out a soft closed mouth chuckle. He glanced away, nodding to himself before looking at you again. You didn’t have time to stop him this time when he reached out to gently touch your chin, and you couldn’t ignore how your stomach flipped at the brief contact.

“Don’t be. You should worry about yourself…and that asshole boyfriend of yours.”

He turned away from you before you could reply, and you opened your mouth before thinking better of it. You rubbed your forehead, watching him walk away, and feeling helpless, you told yourself there was no telling when you’d get another chance. Calling his name, you hurried to catch up to him.

JJ looked curious as to what you could possibly want when he turned around to face you. You felt nervous, and you wondered if it was noticeable because JJ’s expression softened some. You knew you felt bad, and you knew you felt helpless, but maybe a part of you felt compelled to help JJ because you couldn’t help yourself. Maybe, at the very least, you could make this easier for one of you.

“We’re not friends…”

His brows rose at that, and you hurried to continue when he snorted.

“I’m just putting that out there, so there’s no confusion with what I’m about to say because…we can’t be friends, JJ. Do you understand?”

JJ’s blue gaze held your own for some time, and he tilted his head. He ran his eyes over your face, and it was hard to place his expression.

“Trust me… I have no intention of being your friend.”

You knew he didn’t mean that in the way you wanted him to, but you refused to let that scare you into backing out of what you were about to say. You took a deep breath.

“My family has a pool house…”

He crossed his arms over his chest, intently listening.

“No one uses it…except for me when I was like sixteen and thought I hated my parents.”

JJ seemed to catch onto what you were hinting at, and he dropped his arms, slightly frowning at you, now.

“The key is under the plant on the right side of the door…and I don’t know… If it gets really bad with your father sometimes…that’s good information to have I guess.”

JJ didn’t respond, and you didn’t have anything else to say, so you just backed away, giving him a small smile.

“Goodnight.”

JJ didn’t wish you a goodnight back until you’d already turned your back on him, and you threw him another smile over your shoulder before going back inside.

Your lips trembled as you stared into the mirror, hands shaking as you struggled to wipe the mess off of your chest. The music from the party was loud, bleeding into the bedroom and bathroom through the walls, so you weren’t worried about Rafe hearing your soft cries. You threw the tissue into the toilet, the sound of the flush hiding another sob.

No matter how many times you fixed your dress, nothing about your appearance looked right in the mirror. It was funny. Before you left, you thought you looked okay. It was a dress you picked out that even Rafe liked, but it was only now as you stared into the mirror did you wonder if Rafe liked it too much. You’d had no problems with your dress and hair and makeup until after Rafe had held you down in some stranger’s room to fuck you on their bed.

You could still feel the pain from when he’d twisted your arm behind your back, harshly telling you to lighten up and relax. You hadn’t been in the mood, and Rafe hadn’t cared.

“If I waited until you were in the mood, I’d never get any,” he’d thrown at you, chuckling to himself like it was funny.

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you’d told him.

The only response you’d gotten was a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he’d shoved you down. No amount of protesting had deterred him—it never did—and you were sure the owner’s bed was stained with your mascara, courtesy of your tears. The same mascara you were currently trying to fix, something proving to be futile.

Rafe wasn’t wrong though.

You never initiated sex—not unless it could get you out of trouble—and why would you? Rafe raping you wasn’t what you’d consider a regular thing, but it was a sporadic one. Then again, the only reason you were even in this relationship was because you knew Rafe would slit your throat if you left him, so maybe, technically speaking, it all counted as rape.

You touched your chest to make sure you were clean, jaw ticking at the memory of Rafe coming on it. He hardly ever did that, and you knew the only reason he did tonight was to piss you off and humiliate you some more. You’d just straightened your dress for the umpteenth time when he banged on the door.

“I’m ready,” you harshly told him, swinging it open.

His fist had still been in the air when you did, and you didn’t hesitate in pushing past him to grab your jacket. You could feel his eyes on you as you slipped it on, and you turned your head when he leaned in for a kiss. Rafe paused, his gaze fixed on you, and you only huffed when he grabbed your face and forced a kiss on your lips, anyway.

“This party’s turning into bullshit, and Kelce said he might come by for a line or two,” he told you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guided you out.

Ward was out of town for two days, and you wanted to roll your eyes at how predictable Rafe was. It’d cost nothing to do drugs at Kelce’s place, but you supposed that wasn’t as fun as doing them somewhere he knew he was forbidden to. Somewhere he knew Ward would lose his mind over if he knew…

Rafe held you tighter when you made it back downstairs, and you only realized why when you saw a few familiar faces.

“Yeah, this party’s definitely gone to shit, now…”

You said nothing, quickly looking away when your gaze passed over JJ who was standing by Sarah. You’d tried not to dwell on your secret meetups with the other blond, but it was hard. He wasn’t supposed to be your friend—anything like it—and not only had you given him a ride, but a possible place to stay sometimes too.

Not even Rafe knew about the pool house key.

You told yourself that it was just a desire to help Sarah’s friend where you couldn’t help yourself, but you couldn’t deny that something in you was drawn to the blond from the other side of the island. That night in which you’d dropped him off, you hadn’t really wanted to leave. You could admit that, now, and the same could be said for the night he showed up at the Cameron household. You didn’t know if it was JJ or just…

The feeling of talking to a guy who wasn’t Rafe.

You’d forgotten what it felt like to be treated like your own person…and not an extension of the man helping you into his truck.

“Isn’t sex supposed to fuck the attitude out of you or something?”

Those were the words Rafe said to you five minutes into the drive back to his place.

“I don’t have an attitude,” you quietly told him.

There was a brief pause, and you didn’t need to look over to know that Rafe was staring you down.

“Yeah…you do,” he slowly said. “…but that’s okay because the night’s over, and you can just…go to bed mad for all I care.”

Huffing was apparently the wrong thing to do.

“Wh-what is this about earlier? Is that what you’re…pouting about?”

You said nothing, trying your best to avoid a fight, but it seemed that Rafe was itching for one. When he grabbed your chin, you tried to snatch your head away, but his grip was firm, and you winced when he made you face him. Rafe looked between the road and you, nostrils flaring as he stared you down.

“If I didn’t know any better—and I do—I’d think you were fucking somebody else…” he roughly let you go. “…because you’re never in the mood.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring straight ahead as silence descended over the inside of his truck. Not soon enough, his house was in sight, and you were already reaching for your seatbelt when Rafe parked. However, before you could open your door, one of Rafe’s hands was curling around your neck.

The gasp you let out was loud—choked—and you reached up to grab his hand. The back of your head was forced against the window, and too busy trying to get him to let go, you paid no mind to his other hand. It forced it’s way between your legs, fingers searching and pushing their way into you, walls still wet from your previous activities.

A choked sound escaped you as you pushed against his chest. Rafe’s face was nearing yours as he roughly thrust his fingers into you, curling them and making you gasp and jerk in his hold. His nose grazed your cheek as he fingered you, and nothing about it was enjoyable as you let out a whine.

“You are my girlfriend,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear. “…and that means whenever and wherever I want.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a sense of relief when he pulled his hand from in between your legs. That relief, however, was short-lived when you heard him reach for his pants. He saw you reaching for the door, and he was quick to grab your arm, yanking you closer and twisting his other hand into your hair. The scream you let out was pained when he pulled as hard as he could, and Rafe wasted no time in climbing over you.

Pushing against his chest did nothing, and considering it was less than an hour ago when he’d fucked you at that party, you knew Rafe wasn’t actually in the mood again. He just wanted to hurt you, wanted to exert power over you and get it through your head that your body belonged to him.

You winced when he pushed his way into you, immediately thrusting into you despite your lack of preparation. One of his hands was around your throat, the other pinning your arm in place. Your free hand was digging into his arm, tears spilling over as his hips snapped against yours. The inside of his truck was filled with the sounds of your cries and his grunts, and when he leaned in to kiss you this time, you gave him exactly what he wanted.

#jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #jj maybank imagine #rafe cameron imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction

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ajdrawshq · 2 years

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hhhhhhh i hate it here

#bleh. ignore this idk #had some interesting conversations these past 6 hours. wont mention the topic but boy! i want to implode #not a fan of talking to brick walls! imagine being simultaneously self aware and completely ignorant of th consequences of ur actions. god #i think murder should be legal for me specifically #which is a funny comment for me to make considering whom ive inherited the urge for violence from . irony #the many things i could have said today .. i hope one day ill be able to say them #happy nov 5th anniversary tho!! havin a real one over here

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dollyyun · 1 month

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𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 (𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐦)

SYNOPSIS: Jake Sim has got to be more bearable compared to the others. Unlike the rest of his frat members, Jake is friendlier, making him an approachable figure. You recall when you got lost in the campus building during your second week of college in your first year, but Jake found you wandering like a lost puppy and was kind enough to guide you to the place you needed to go. Even after three years, his kindness is engraved in your mind. So, when Jake approaches you, you have little reason to suspect that he has an ill-intention towards you, especially when you have completely fallen for his trap. How can you not? With that charming grin on his handsome countenance and how he makes you comfortable enough to be yourself around him. It’s so easy to be with Jake. Little do you know that he is every bit corruptive like the rest of the knights.

PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader, jake x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), semi-college au, adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, mentions of smoking, virgin & subtle fat shaming, mild bullying, sexual assault, humiliation, profanities, stalker & pervert jake, obsession, corruption, violence, yandere, blood, murder, masturbation, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex (no!), softdom!jake (he may be rough at times), ghostface!jake, knife play, grinding, fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, thighs slapping (jake is obsessed with your thighs), manhandling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mention of mental illness, toxicity, jake becomes an asshole somewhere in the end, slight angst, crying, heartbreak.

WORD COUNT: 28.3k

FEATURING: enha maknae line, txt, zerobaseone, le sserafim, ive, aespa.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is inspired by devil's night series written by penelope douglas! also, i am not a Christian, and i didn't bother to do thorough research on the religion, so pardon any false facts or errors.

PART 1, PART 3.1, PART 3.2, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7

✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

PLAYLIST: Often - The Weeknd, Under the Influence - Chris Brown, Meddle About - Chase Atlantic, Church - Chase Atlantic, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Scream - Usher, Lost in the Fire - Gesaffelstein & The Weeknd, Sinners - Ari Abdul, Cold - Maroon 5.

RUBY'S NOTE: honestly, idk what to feel about this (as always i don't feel satisfied with my writing no matter what lmao), especially the wackass smuts, so please lower your expectations. happy reading!

The smirk tugging at the corner of his plump pink lips adorns his appealing visage as well as his dark gaze, which is beguiling for anyone to heed his command at a single glance without hesitation and enthrals the sisters who are sauntering in his vicinity.

He initiates an enticing wink at the two of them, whose cheeks are emblazoned with pink as they release giggles before one of them composes herself quickly and grabs the other sister with her to walk in haste, leaving him smug at the fact that he still has an effect on ladies. Not even the holy sisters can escape from his allure. This has already been proven in the past, where he seduced two holy sisters and managed to score points when he fucked them on this very sacred ground.

Of course, they were caught engaging in illicit activity by the higher authorities of the church, resulting in the two holy sisters' dismissal from their duties and the church. But did this affect him? Not in the slightest, considering he is the son of both a diplomat and a congregant of this very church. Just like his three best friends, he can get away with anything without having to face any repercussions.

Even if his actions do earn disapproval from others, no one dares meddle in any affairs pertaining to Jake Sim.

His eyes dart around the interior of the divine building, his lips curling into a sneer. Oh, how he hates the church. Just like the rest of his family members, he is a Christian as well, and unlike them, he hates being one.

But once upon a time, he loved and used to take pride in his religion. Whenever his mother, who was a regular member of the church and still is, wanted to go to church, he would tag along with her keenly. He knew and memorised every verse of the Bible and hymns to the heart.

As a matter of fact, he used to be a good and obedient son who often steered clear of trouble or anything that might displease his parents. He even earned the moniker ‘church boy’ given by his peers, and he took pride in it. He can’t deny the fact that he sees you in him, as he was the exact person you are.

However, it all crumbled when he and his family flew over to Australia on that long summer break when he was thirteen. Maybe it was because he affiliated himself with the wrong company behind his parents’ backs, or maybe it was because he had witnessed his father’s first infidelity, in which his father was fucking some woman who eventually turned out to be his own secretary. What made it worse was the fact that it happened in a church.

Jake knew that his father had committed a sin, and naturally, Jake expected his father to make a confession and ask for forgiveness, but he didn’t expect that his father would continue to commit the same sin over and over.

From then on, Jake didn’t see his father like he used to. His hatred for his father runs so deep that the sight of his face simply enrages him. He hates it even more because his father is a pathological liar and remains a cheater without his mother knowing about his infidelity. His father’s infidelity plays a major part in the reason why he doesn’t have faith in religion anymore.

A sigh leaves him. Just as boredom nearly strikes Jake, his eyes catch the movement of two figures from afar before they zero in on the familiar face who has ignited a newfound desire within him since last night. Dark interest gleams in his eyes as he scans your overall fit.

Jake can’t deny that there is a tinge of disappointment in him when he sees that your curves cannot be discerned due to the thickness of your black coat that hugs your body as well as your wide black pants. He recalls how you looked truly exquisite in that skimpy skimpy dress that accentuated contours impeccably, and how he got hard for you twice in one night.

Truth be told, Jake doesn’t mind the slightest when a girl chooses to dress modestly or how a girl chooses to dress in general. What matters to him is that he can get them to strip off their clothes and bare naked for him before he gives them the best fucks of their lives. Even if the girl is either too thick or too thin, it doesn’t matter to him, as long as he can dick it into their holes.

His eyes trail down to your clothed chest as he tucks the bottom of his lips between his teeth. The sight of your lustrous cleavage flashes in his mind vividly, and he can already imagine how plump your breasts are. His cock starts to harden as he fantasises about leaving his marks on your porcelain skin all over your chest while his hands grope and feel the suppleness of your breasts.

Jake shakes his head lightly at the thought and attempts to ignore his hardness before returning his gaze to your face, where there is a smile on your lips while your cheeks are deepened with dimples as you are conversing with the priest.

Jake finds himself lifting a subtle smile from his lips upon seeing your smile. Throughout the university years he has known you, he has always found you adorable. Pretty? Maybe, but you were definitely adorable. Which was also the reason why he didn’t find you enticing. Plus, you often steered clear of any signs of trouble, so he also found you dull.

Jake usually targets women who can most likely match his vigour both in and out of the bedroom, women who are adventurous and perpetually up for a challenge, and who are intrinsically spontaneous and carefree. Those are his kind of women, and they are the ones who are capable of turning him on.

You are most definitely not his type of woman. Unlike those women who have associated with him in the past, you are not anything like them. You are known as Crestview Meadow’s good girl, the epitome of a perfect student whose GPA is worthy of being envious of, and the kind of student that every professor prefers to teach.

Above all, you are the embodiment of purity ─ not just in the way you carry yourself with grace and dignity everywhere you go, but because there is an ambience you exude that anyone can immediately discern the rarity of goodness within you.

But the fact that you’re good makes you dull and boring, especially when you are constantly surrounded by those friends of yours who are the renowned it girls of the university. It is absurd to him that your friends seem to be protecting you from anyone outside of their inner circle and any cruelty, almost as if they are infantilizing you.

No matter. He will get what he wants, even if he has to ruin what you have with your friends. A smirk tugs at his lips as he proceeds to saunter towards you with his hands tucked in his pocket pants. If only you knew how hypocritical your so-called friends were.

The smirk on his lips drops when he sees the priest touch your shoulder, and his lips deepen into a frown at the close proximity between the two of you. A muscle pulses in his jaw while his footsteps hasten, wanting nothing more than to rip his hand away from your shoulder.

The idea of any man touching you ignites a newfound sensation in him, and he has never felt this way towards any woman ─ those same women whom he had slept with. He recalls vividly when he saw Namgil hovering over you with his hands all over you on Devil's Night, and that was when he saw red in his vision. No one gets to touch you unless it's him.

The sound of his footsteps disrupts the conversation you have been engaging with the priest, prompting you to cease, and your head turns to look at him with widening eyes, but Jake remains his gaze on the priest, and a cold smile touches his lips.

“Father, it’s been more than awhile.” Jake greets, the coldness emanating from him is discernible to you. His eyes dart at the priest’s hand that remains on your shoulder, and the familiar whisper of the devil is encouraging him to break his hand for daring to touch what is his.

“Jake, what a pleasant surprise!” The priest, however, is oblivious to the malicious intent glinting in Jake’s eyes. “How is your mother?”

“She’s doing well.” The lie easily rolls off his tongue. He hasn’t even been checking on his mother, not that she cares enough or whatsoever.

Jake shifts his gaze to you, who is staring at him with indecipherable sentiment glinting in your pretty eyes that nearly mesmerised him. He offers you a smile. “Y/N. I didn’t know you were a regular member of this church.”

Another lie. He knows everything about you, including that you used to visit this church whenever you had free time. He knows that you used to attend church in your neighbouring area regularly, and he knows that you live in a relatively small two-story house, which is rather homey compared to his family’s mansion. He knows your birth date, your favourite colour, and basically any sort of information he wants to find out about you. It took him a span of weeks, and that includes quasi-stalking you even now.

Jake admits that he has grown obsessed with you despite the fact that you are not his ideal type, even before Devil's Night, and there are moments where he fantasises about you even when he doesn't want to.

Jake is curious about you, and his curiosity was sparked long before Devil’s Night. He wants to learn and explore you ─ what makes you different from the others and why there is goodness in you—because he doesn’t believe that there is goodness in this corrupted world. So, he began the process of obtaining information from certain individuals and observing you keenly from afar. He was seamless at it, to the point where you didn’t even realise how often his eyes were on you.

Above all, Jake wants to experiment on you with the intention of dimming that light inside of you, wanting to intoxicate you in a way you won’t even see it coming.

His eyes briefly flicker down at the familiar ring on your forefinger that glimmers under the artificial lights above the ceiling. He knows that it’s not his for the taking, even though he will be the first to take you to his bed soon.

His gaze returns to yours, and he watches as you blink your eyes, looking a tad surprised, as though you had expected him to disregard your existence. “I’m not. I visit whenever I’m available.” You tell him with an awkward smile gracing your pink lips. “Are you one as well?”

Your soft voice as well as your politeness are something he has always admired, and kindness is one of your qualities that has always remained constant even when others treat you unkindly.

Before he can answer, the priest beats him to it, “Jake is my good friend’s son, but I always refer to him as my nephew, as I knew him when he was young.” The priest gives Jake a warm smile.

A flicker of surprise passes by in your eyes. “Oh, I see. What a small world.” You say, smiling softly and darting your eyes back to Jake. “I’ll get going first. See you around on campus, Jake.”

“Of course.” Jake reciprocates your smile, to which your eyes flicker briefly at his lips that don’t go unnoticed by him, before you proceed to walk away while clutching the strap of your sling purse.

A frown touches his lips when he notices how you limp as you advance forward, even though you look like you're trying your best not to give away the fact that you're limping.

Jake remains rooted to the ground, his eyes watching your figure get further until you disappear from his sight.

“What did she come here for?” Jake inquires with the priest. There are no traces of warmth in his tone, while something dark shadows his features.

The priest flattens his lips before sighing. “You know that I can’t disclose any information─”

“Need I remind you that the reason this church remains standing is because of the funds my mother made?” Jake reminds him calmly, and yet his tone sounds sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “I can easily withdraw those funds, and my mother wouldn’t bat an eye.”

The priest knows well that Jake has the power to do so, and so the elder acquiesces. “She came here to confess her sins.”

Jake raises a single eyebrow at him. “And what were her sins?”

Reluctance resides in the priest as well as the guilt that feels heavy in his heart, but he doesn’t wield enough power to defend himself against the affluent son of his good friend. “I think you have an inkling, son. Surely, you must’ve known she was there during Devil’s Night.”

“Maybe I do.” Jake unfurls a smirk at the priest before patting his shoulder. “Thank you for your service, Father.” The mockery Jake elicits doesn’t go unnoticed by the priest, but the elder smiles weakly in return.

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Your phone buzzes as it vibrates on the table for the ninth time, and you don’t bother to spare a glance at your phone screen, knowing that it is either Yunjin, Wonyoung, or Karina. You haven’t been meeting them eye-to-eye since two days ago, and even if they asked you questions, you only gave them vague answers in a curt tone before fleeing your dorm in haste.

After what happened, you started seeing them in a different light. You can’t help but feel uncomfortable around them, and specifically, Yunjin. Although it has been three days since Devil’s Night, the overall events that transpired remain vivid in your mind, unable to erase them.

As for Kazuha, Winter, and the others, you remain amiable with them as usual, but you keep a safe distance between yourself and them, and even they notice your eccentric behaviour that differs from how you usually are. You need some time to collect your thoughts and deal with this internal conflict within yourself.

You did feel better and lighter, though, after confessing your sins to Father. You have been pardoned, and that’s what matters most. You don’t intend to revert to how you acted on Devil’s Night.

Speaking of Devil’s Night, despite the fact that it is over, Halloween isn’t. Hence, there are Halloween ornaments embellished on every part of the campus building. You got to give credit to the knight members, who were in charge of the decorations. Their budget seemed to be higher than last year’s, as evident from the overall decorations, and there are even knight members in spooky costumes strolling out and about while scaring off the students, eliciting screams from them.

Nevertheless, amidst the sombre atmosphere, the merriment, jovial laughter, and chatter from the students are palpable. It is abundantly clear that they genuinely enjoy Halloween, and that bothers you greatly because they don’t seem the slightest mournful over the deaths of twenty-two students ─ three students whom you recognise from your department.

You didn’t exactly know them in the way you know your friends, but still, you are sorrowful over their deaths. How cruel was it to be hunted and killed by those delinquents when they didn’t commit any wrongdoing? What did they do to deserve to die? Or was it all just pure entertainment for those notorious delinquents?

A shrill scream as well as laughter erupting from the other side, across from where you are seated, prompts you to look at the commotion briefly before returning to minding your own business with an eye roll. Just another bunch of students feigning feeling terrified of the knight members scaring them.

Your face twists into a grimace. There is definitely something fundamentally wrong with everyone here, you think.

Presently, you are in the students’ lounging area that is situated between the two different buildings that belong to the students under the social science and science technological engineering departments. Usually, you would resort to the campus library to do your assignments or some reading, but today you felt compelled to do your work here for some reason, even though you dislike the boisterous commotion that often happens in the lounging area.

The commotion in the background eventually fades out. You continue to type away on your keyboard while your gaze remains on your laptop screen, getting immersed in finishing the final assignment that you have neglected since last week. The submission deadline is by the end of today, but the assignment is a piece of cake for you.

The tension in your shoulders relaxes as soon as you save the document to your file before opening a webpage on your Google Chrome with the intention of submitting your assignment to the school’s portal under your department.

As soon as you click submit, you jolt in your seat, and a shriek of terror emits from you when two students in ghostface masks emerge at your side, frightening you with sonorous ‘boos!’ while holding serrated knives in their gloved hands.

Another thing about this university that you deem absurd is the fact that they allow authentic weapons to be in students’ possessions for this period of Halloween, for as long as there are no casualties.

Your shriek draws the attention of students in your vicinity, causing your cheeks to flush in embarrassment. The unknown ghostfaces erupt into jeering laughter, clearly finding pure delight in frightening you greatly.

You glare at them in disbelief while you attempt to soothe your heart that is beating erratically against your chest, and for once, you want to lash out at them for their inane prank, but as they proceed to remove their ghostface masks, you smack your lips together shut, knowing better than to rebuke the knight members.

You recognise them. Matthew and Gyuvin from the social science department. Even though they’re your juniors by a year, they don’t really respect their seniors, let alone you. Besides, you’re deemed an easy target for most, and now that you’re alone without any of your friends by your side, it makes things easier for anyone to approach you with ill-intention.

“Did you see the horror on her face?” Matthew cackles, slapping Gyuvin’s shoulder. “That was comical!”

Gyuvin chuckles as he wipes an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. “We should definitely scare her often.”

“That wasn’t funny.” You utter those words before you can even stop yourself. Your remark seems to capture their attention, and for some reason, you gain a newfound confidence in resolution. “In fact, scaring others for your own enjoyment is simply inconsiderate and lazy.”

“Lazy?” Gyuvin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He gives his fellow member a look. “Can you believe her?”

“Yes. Lazy.” You reiterate, glaring at them, but your voice remains soft all the while. “Also, you could’ve injured a student with how careless you were holding your knives─”

“What do you even know about pranks?” Matthew takes a threatening step towards you, resulting in you recoiling in prudence upon noticing the menace he exudes, as evident on his mien. “You know nothing about pranks. All you know is being a goody-two shoes and kissing professors’ asses.”

You hold back an offended gasp, but the distaste you have for them is evident in your eyes, which doesn’t go unnoticed by them. “And you wonder why everyone hates you. You might have a pretty face, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you are a fucking loser who doesn’t know how to have fun.” You refuse to allow Gyuvin’s demeaning words to get to you.

“Plus, she’s probably still a virgin.” Matthew cackles, high-fiving Gyuvin, while you wallow in humiliation. “That explains why she’s insufferable. No one wants to fuck a virgin, let alone a Catholic girl like her.”

Their remarks appear to have attracted the attention of the students in your vicinity, and just as you expected, chuckles and degradation emanate from them directed at you.

Despite their cruelty demoralising your high spirit while your cheeks flush in humiliation, you feel a newfound resentment towards them, with your hand forming into a fist at your side. There is no denying that you are indeed a virgin, but you feel proud of being one.

Besides, your mother used to emphasise how crucial it is for you to safeguard and embrace your chastity. Heeding your mother’s words, you cherish and protect your virginity for the one who is destined to be your soulmate. Hence, you were given a silver ring that latches around your forefinger on your seventeenth birthday, and the ring symbolises purity.

Of course, you took pride in it, subtly flaunting your purity ring everywhere you go, but now that their demeaning words have finally gotten to you, you can’t help wondering if being a virgin plays a major part in why no guys have approached you with the intention of getting you in their bed and additionally makes you unlikeable.

You lower your head, completely disheartened, and you want nothing more than to disappear from their sight while their jeering laughter continues to taunt you.

“Ah!”

A loud thud causes you to jolt in surprise with your head now raised, and the sight of Matthew’s face being side-planted on the surface of the table shocks you before your eyes trail to the person who has him pinned on the table with one hand on his back and the other on the table at the side of his head, locked by his strong grips.

The person you definitely don't expect to see. Jake Sim.

You know that Jake would be strolling out and about around here since he is a computer science major, and you always come across his path. Most of the time, he would give you a brief smile before resuming to talk with his friends or even flirt with girls in the hallway.

By now, the students in your vicinity have quietened by his arrival . Jake’s presence alone is domineering enough to silence them.

“So this was what the two of you have been doing instead of resuming your respective duties.” Jake states calmly, but you are not oblivious to the way his jaw clenches while his deadly grips on Matthew elicit a yelp from the latter. “You were meant to bring fright upon your peers and not humiliate them, but here you are, lazing around.”

“We were! Really!” Gyuvin asserts, and you notice how apparent the nervousness is in his voice.

“H-He’s right!” Matthew stammers out as he makes an attempt to struggle in Jake’s grasps.

“First, you insulted and humiliated a lady. Now, you have the audacity to lie to my face?” Jake’s tongue hits the roof of his mouth, and the corner of his lips curves into a smirk that sends you shivers down your spine upon seeing how pissed-off he is, but you can’t deny that he looks oddly attractive.

“As your house leader, I expected better from both of you.” Jake continues to speak calmly, but all the while, he has yet to release Matthew. You flinch lightly when Jake’s eyes meet yours briefly before he looks at his knight's members. “Apologise to her.”

“S-Sorry.” Matthew manages to utter, but even you can discern the insincerity in his tone.

With ease, Jake raises him just slightly before slamming him down on the surface of the table once more, eliciting a painful yelp from the latter. “Sorry who?” Jake nearly growls out his words, sending you another shiver.

In all honesty, you could care less about getting an apology from these jerks, but seeing Jake in this light genuinely shocks you. More importantly, why is he defending you in your honour?

“I’m sorry, Y/N! I won’t insult you again!” Matthew rambles out, the fear for his house leader is more than apparent, which brings a pleased smirk from the latter.

“Yes, we’re so sorry!” Gyuvin even bows to you, clutching his ghostface mask.

“The next time I catch you insulting and humiliating any lady, I won’t let it pass so easily.” Jake says sternly before finally releasing Matthew, who wastes no time retrieving his ghostface mask and his knife from the table, fleeing your table with Gyuvin.

“What are you guys looking at?” Jake’s sharp tone causes the students in your vicinity to look away from your table as they resort to minding their own business.

When Jake’s gaze finally lands on your face, you catch the way his eyes soften and the scowl on his lips flatten. “I’m sorry about them. Are you okay?”

You blink your eyes, clearly taken aback by his duality. You ignore how your heart flutters just slightly at his soft voice as well as his gentle demeanour.

“I’m fine, Jake.” You tell him, your voice wavering subtly as you muster a small smile at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I had to.” Jake says, looking offended as though he were the one who had been humiliated instead of you. “I taught them better than to insult and humiliate a lady. Such conduct is unacceptable to the House of North.”

You can’t help but acquiesce and give him a smile that shoots a cupid arrow to his tainted heart, especially your dimples that he wants to poke his finger in. “Thank you.”

A smile is adorned on his face, and you hold back an endearing chuckle at how sheepish he looks, almost resembling a golden retriever puppy. “Anytime, Y/N.”

As the two of you continue to gaze at each other with sheepish smiles, familiar voices belonging to your best friends echo in the walls of your mind, reminding you of their warning to steer clear of the knights, specifically their leaders. But you ignore those warnings inside your head.

Sure, you have no intention to attract the attention of the other leaders, but this is Jake ─ the guy whose kindness has long since been embedded in your mind. You find it hard to dislike him, even though you are aware of his reputation on campus as a womaniser.

You recall when you got lost in the campus building during your second week of college in your first year three years ago, trying to find your way to the auditorium. That was when Jake found you wandering around like a lost puppy, and he was kind enough to guide you to the place you needed to go without hesitation and even engage in a short, pleasant conversation with you.

Yeah, the Jake you danced intimately with on Devil’s Night should have given you a reason to stay away from him, but you don’t have the heart to do that, especially when he had just defended you in your honour. Plus, to you at least, Jake is undoubtedly amiable, making him an approachable figure unlike the rest of his fraternity members.

Hence, you have decided to lower your guards around him, but then comes the awkwardness after the realisation that you have been gazing at him with a stupid smile on your face.

You break eye contact with him and scratch the back of your head awkwardly. “So, I guess I better get going─”

“Listen, I’ve been wanting to apologise to you.” Jake cuts you off, inviting himself to settle down across from you.

Confused, you stare at him with a single eyebrow arched. “Why are you apologising?”

Jake rubs his nape sheepishly. “For touching and kissing you without consent when we were dancing last Friday night.”

Just like that, a specific memory runs through your mind, and you recall the sensation of his touch that left you wanting more of him.

“It’s okay. I understand that we were tipsy and in the heat of the moment.” You tell him reassuringly, giving him a small smile. “I should be apologising as well for my improper behaviour.”

Jake holds back a chuckle. Oh, how wrong you were. He was not the slightest tipsy, but he can’t let you know that.

“How was your first ever Devil’s Night?” He asks, striking up a conversation with you and hoping that it will continue on.

Truthfully, your voice sounds pleasant to hear. You’re soft-spoken, complementing your disposition, and whenever you converse with anyone who reciprocates your kindness and the ones who obviously like you, you try your best to maintain appropriate eye contact while listening attentively to them and giving your opinions or remarks if needed. That makes them want to continue speaking to you, and that’s what Jake feels about you. He can listen to you talking for hours, and he wouldn’t get sick of it.

On the other hand, you feel hesitant about whether or not you should answer his question with full honesty because, firstly, he’s one of the leaders, and he was obviously in charge of Devil’s Night. Secondly, you don’t want to offend him by letting him know that it was the worst night you ever had, and you never want to relive that night ever again.

But being a people-pleaser, you resort to giving him white lies as your lips curve into a small smile. “I had the time of my life. You guys were amazing and really outdid yourselves. I can definitely understand the hype behind Devil’s Night from most of the students here.”

You hope that Jake won’t detect your lies, but all the while, your stomach twists with something unpleasant as you speak those words. You even held yourself back from telling him that his fraternity and the rest of the students were downright mental for enjoying Devil’s Night.

Thankfully, Jake seems to believe your white lies and gives you a charming grin that sends another flutter to your beating heart. “I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed it.”

Little did you know that Jake knew you meant the opposite of what you said. After all, he had seen the genuine horror on your face and your vulnerability firsthand, considering he and his comrades were hunting you down.

As his eyes rake over your delicate features, he grins cunningly in the back of his mind. Oh, how he desires to see your pretty eyes glistening and tears streaming down your smooth cheeks as he inflicts horror upon you, resulting in you running away from him while he chases after you.

"So, what’s your favourite horror movie?” The interest gleaming in his brown eyes is one of the reasons why you want to continue the conversation with him, aside from the fact that he is practically staring at you like a puppy wanting a treat.

“I’m not a fan of horror movies, but I guess the Scream movie?” You answer unsurely, shrugging your shoulders. “My friends forced me to watch with them since they’re big fans.”

This time, Jake’s interest grows tenfold. He leans his body slightly forward while his lips are curved into a grin. “But did you like them?”

“Kind of?” You answer, and you feel warmth weaving across your cheeks at the intensity of his gaze on your face. Feeling conscious, your fingers make their ascent to the silver cross pendant resting delicately on your chest to fiddle with it. “I mean, the movie was definitely interesting, and I liked the plot, but surprisingly, I wasn’t scared. If anything, I felt grossed out by the amount of bloodshed.”

The way you scrunch your nose is so endearing to him that he itches to lean forward to peck the tip of your nose, but of course, he can only afford to fantasise as always.

“Sorry.” Your cheeks flush delicately in pink as awareness slaps you at how much of a yapper you suddenly become. “I must be rambling by now. You probably wouldn’t want to hear me talk so much.”

“Actually, I do.” A tinge of softness is in his eyes, as is the soft smile unfurling on his plump pink lips. “Has anyone ever told you how pleasant you sound?”

“No.” You answer, your face contorting into confusion, to which he finds you adorable, especially when you tilt your head slightly to one side.

“Then let me be the first one to tell you. You sound really pleasant to hear.” His smile shoots cupid arrows into your heart. “I like listening to you talk, and if you could talk all day, I would be there by your side to listen to you.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.” You murmur, your eyes zeroing on his pretty lips, and you swear they look and feel soft. The very same lips touched your skin last Friday night.

“No, I’m not. I meant what I said.” His countenance shifts into something serious, almost knocking the breath out of you upon the dark glint in his eye. “If anyone says otherwise, then their hearing must be impaired.”

“Jake!” A familiar voice calls for Jake, which you recognise. You look at the side, spotting Sunghoon and Riki from across the building as they wave at Jake, beckoning him to come over.

You turn your head to face him. “Your friends are calling for you─”

Your breath hitches in your throat when he grabs your hand and holds it tenderly. Your heart flutters as you watch him raise your hand to plant a gentle kiss on your knuckles. The sensation of his soft, plump lips still lingers on your skin, even when he withdraws.

His thumb caresses the back of your hand, sending you tingles, while his brown eyes captivate you in a way that is impossible for you to look away from. “Before I go, can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?” You ask in a murmur, getting lost in the depths of his eyes, which are swimming with sentiments you can’t decipher.

“If anyone messes with you, even the slightest, let me know, alright?”

A look of confusion furrows your brows. “But─”

“Promise me, love.” He cuts you off sternly, but the tinge of softness remains in his tone that compels you to nod your head, earning a small smile from him. “Good. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?” His low husk at the end sends a foreign sensation through you.

“Okay, Jaeyun.” You say softly without realising that you don’t mean to accidentally call him by his Korean name.

His eyebrow arches attractively at his Korean name, which feels heavenly from your mouth, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he shoots you a smirk, sending one last flutter to your heart.

He rises from his seat and proceeds to leave the table, but not before winking at you. “Goodbye for now, sweet angel.” His smirk remains on his canvas before he turns around and saunters towards his friends.

Sweet angel.

Those two words instantly remind you of the masked men on Devil’s Night, and you begin to wonder if Jake was one of your predators on that night.

“No, he couldn’t be.” You mutter to yourself as you slowly close your laptop.

There is no way Jake could be any of those four masked men that preyed on you. The same charming Jake, whose duality never fails to impress you, simply couldn’t be any of them. Sure, he’s one of their leaders, but there is absolutely no way he was capable of being one of Kim Namgil’s murderers.

As you pack your belongings into your bag, you fail to notice the wicked glint in his heavenly brown-hued eyes earlier.

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Your last class ended at six, but instead of heading straight back to your dorm, you went to the cafe down the street nearby the campus to do some reading and studying for your finals while indulging your cravings for the delectable pastries.

You didn’t want to head back to your dorm since you weren’t ready to face your best friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with them, especially after reading all of their texts in which they spammed you relentlessly and even tried calling you. You have a feeling that you’ll be barraged with questions demanding explanations for your abrupt detachment.

A part of you feels guilty for it, knowing that your best friends have always been there for you, even when the rest of their peers often question why they befriended someone who has no status, rank, or abundance of wealth like them.

A sigh leaves your lips as you shake your head lightly before pushing open the door, making your exit out of the cafe establishment. You glance down at your phone screen and notice that the time has struck eight p.m. You should be heading back now, but instead, you decide to take a nightly stroll to clear the remnants of the fog in your head.

The nightly breeze is in your hair with each step you take, ambling on the pavement while your surroundings are in a blur as you go into unfocused mode. Just then, your mind drifts off to Jake Sim.

The moment his face and his charming grin appear in your head, a soft smile unfurls on your pink lips. There is no denying that you do find him attractive and sometimes cute, but truth be told, his kindness was what made you have a crush on him three years ago.

Yes, you had a crush on him, but it only lasted for a while when you found out he was a womaniser. You recall the jealousy brimming in your veins whenever you saw him with different girls clinging to his arm every week. You knew that he wouldn’t bat an eye at you, especially after all the unpleasant words that were spoken about you and circulated on campus.

Most of the students dislike you not because you’re a good girl but because of your status rank and the fact that you do not hail from an affluent background.

Approximately 96% of the students in Crestview Meadow’s hail from affluent families and are literally Chaebols who wield authority and power the same way as their parents’ do.

Crestview Meadows students are extremely privileged. Not only does the university provide a top-tier higher learning institution compared to any other universities across Sokor, but they also truly accommodate the students’ wants and needs.

For instance, there are massive, tall, and wide apartment complexes that are designed exclusively for students whose homes are far from the campus, also known as the dormitory. It is within a five-minute walk from the enormous, upscale campus. Undoubtedly, the cost of paying for the rent is higher and greater than that of a condominium, especially when there are amenities for the students.

Obviously, money is never an issue for most of the students enrolling at this university, considering the unfathomable wealth they wield. Some do take their wealth and high statuses for granted, but you, on the other hand, feel extremely grateful for not getting yourself into a heavy debt as you have earned numerous scholarships and the university recognises your effort in terms of academics.

Hence, it is one of the reasons why you are driven and motivated to work hard and maintain your perfect GPA of 4.0.

The commotion of manly laughter shatters your moment of solitude, prompting you to look to the side just for your eyes to widen at the sight of a bunch of familiar faces. Your eyes briefly glance at the establishment before you finally notice that they have emerged from a bar.

You stand frozen, as though seeing them paralyses your whole being. Your eyes instantly meet Sunghoon’s, whose smile transitions to a sneer while a familiar sentiment glints in his eyes. Hatred.

“Y/N, hey!” Sunoo’s voice pulls you away from staring into Sunghoon’s dark eyes any longer. You are taken aback by the blond-haired male’s friendliness as he approaches you with a gleeful grin. You refuse to believe that this is the same guy who was part of Devil’s Night.

“What brings you here?” Sunoo asks, speaking to you in a way that makes you feel as though he is an old friend of yours. “Wait. Don’t tell me that you’re here to have a drink.” Sunoo feigned a shocked gasp. “What happened to the good girl Y/N we know and love?”

You can only afford to chuckle awkwardly, unsure of how to act, and all the while, their gazes on you render you conscious of the way you look.

A barrage of questions are on your mind, wondering if you look okay or ridiculous.

Your fashion sense has always been praised by your girls, and it also elevates your confidence. Your wardrobe mostly consists of either beige, white, black, or pink clothing. Some days you wear skirts that reach above your knees, while other days you wear pants.

Today, you decided to wear a flared beige skirt and a white tee that is tucked in with a short beige jacket complementing your overall fit, as well as white thigh-high socks that conceal your skin. Your friends have made comments about your thigh-high socks being unnecessary since they want you to flaunt your smooth skin, but of course you refused.

Now, you can’t help but wonder what they think of you as they stare at you. Do they also think that you’re a ridiculous Catholic girl the way the others do?

“You’re scaring her, Sunoo.” Jungwon chides, shoving his shoulder against Sunoo’s.

When your eyes meet Jungwon’s feline-like eyes, you are reminded of the night when he captured Wonyoung and his warning directed at you. You have an inkling that the hickeys on Wonyoung’s neck were his marks.

“Come on, we’re wasting time here.” Sunghoon grumbles as he walks past you, and you swear you can feel the coldness emanating from his body.

Riki disregards your existence as he heads for his bike, which is parked by the curb alongside the others’. Jungwon sends you a wink while Sunoo casts you another gleeful smile before they proceed on towards their bikes.

You manage to catch Heeseung’s fleeting gaze on your face, and when you turn your head fully to look at him, he is swift to avoid your gaze and advances towards his bike with a cool demeanour.

“Hey, angel.” Jay takes you by surprise by standing close to you, almost knocking the breath out of you with the combo of his strong cologne and cigarette smell emanating from him. As you glance up to meet his dark, lustrous gaze, he gives you his signature smirk that makes anyone fall for him.

“Missed me?” Jay asks you in a seductive lull as he raises his hand to brush the fallen strands from your face, but you back away from him immediately. “Come on, baby. You weren’t like this last Friday night when you danced with me.” He remarks with mockery that you narrow your eyes at.

Just as you are about to speak, Heeseung’s voice interrupts you, and for once, you are thankful to him. “Let’s go, Jay.”

“Always the one to ruin my fun, Heeseung.” Jay heaves a sigh and makes his way to his bike, but not before casting you another smirk that has a clear intent of suggestiveness.

You watch as Riki, Sunoo, and Jungwon speed off ahead, followed by Sunghoon and Jay. Heeseung seems to be taking his time, and when his eyes meet yours, an indecipherable sentiment dances in his eyes before he pulls down the dark visor and proceeds to speed off with his engine blaring.

You sense his presence from behind you, and his figure is nearly looming over yours. His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe before he greets you in a soft tone with that husky voice of his. “So we meet again, lovely.”

Your heart nearly lurches in your chest upon seeing how close he is to you, and you swear you can feel his body heat. As you turn around to face him, the smell of smoke fills your nostrils.

“I had no idea you smoked.” You point out politely, your lips pressing thinly. You actually hate the unpleasant smell of smoke.

The smile on Jake’s lips falters upon noticing the expression on your face. “Oh, no, I don’t smoke.” He tells you with the utmost sincerity. “It was theirs, but I swear I don’t smoke.” Even he has no idea why he is affirming with such earnestness.

You nod your head in understanding. Even if he does smoke, it isn’t in any of your business anyway.

“Where were you from?” Jake asks, tilting his head slightly to one side while curiosity sparkles in his eyes.

“I was from the cafe down the street and decided to take a nightly stroll.” You tell him. “What about you? Isn’t it unwise to drink on a school night?”

Jake’s smile curls into a grin as he takes a step forward. “Are you worried for me?”

Your eyebrows pull together. “Yeah, I mean, don’t you have classes tomorrow? Plus, you’re driving.”

“You’re so fucking adorable.” He whispers huskily while your eyes widen in shock at the sudden shift in his demeanour. His eyes meet yours with an indecipherable intensity. “Don’t worry about me, lovely. I drank a little, but I have a high alcohol tolerance.”

“If you say so.” You say before taking a step back. “Just drive safely, okay?”

“Ride with me.” He says so firmly that there is no room for objections.

Your eyes divert to his sleek black bike, and you begin to feel wary. “I don’t know….I’ve never rode a bike before, so I’m a little scared.”

“Don’t be.” Jake grabs your hand without any hesitation and gives it a tender squeeze while his soft, brown eyes are pulling you into him. “As long as you hold on tight to me, you’ll be fine. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Jake─”

“I need you to trust me, love.” Jake cuts you off firmly, but his grasp on you remains tender. “Trust me, yeah?” He whispers, and you can’t help but to nod your head.

The next thing you know, he is assisting you with his helmet while you stand in front of him, your eyes staring at his pink plump lips in awe upon the close-up.

“Does it feel too tight?” He asks you, causing you to look into his eyes.

You shake your head, but frown at the realisation. “What about you? It’s dangerous for you to be riding without a helmet.”

“Lovely, you should really stop worrying about me.” He chuckles breathily before guiding you to his bike, which you have trouble mounting due to how high it is.

You become startled when he places both hands on your waist to lift you with ease as you mount his bike. You struggle a little to balance yourself, and when he mounts his bike in front of you with ease, you latch your arms around his waist without any hesitation.

You feel his body visibly tensing before he relaxes and proceeds to switch on the ignition. You ignore the way your breasts are pressed against his back, and you hope he doesn’t mind it.

“Hold on tight, lovely.” Jake reminds you once more over his shoulder before he takes you by surprise at the abrupt blare of his engine as he drives off.

You close your eyes while tightening your arms around him, your heart beating fast at the speed as the two of you ride against the vindictive wind. He is going at such an insane speed that you swear it is as though he is in a racing competition.

Finally, you dare yourself to flutter your eyes open, and when you do, you no longer feel the trepidation coursing through your veins. Your eyes sparkle with awe as you manage to catch glimpses of the gorgeous city lights. Although you no longer fear riding a bike, your arms remain tight around his waist.

But soon you realise that he is not heading in the direction of your dormitory. “Where are you taking me?” You raise your voice so he can hear you better over the wind.

“Somewhere.” His answer doesn’t satisfy you, yet you choose not to ask any more questions. But the smirk in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Jaeyun from now instead.”

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The familiar sight of the golden gate opening automatically greets your sight before he accelerates forward, while you are rendered gobsmacked by the fact that Jake has brought you to the very place where Devil’s Night commenced.

When your eyes sweep over the magnificent palace, you shudder lightly as the events that transpired on that dreadful night play in your mind like a film. Soon, you find yourself entering a massive garage that is equivalent to the biggest living room in the palace, with different vehicle models arrayed impeccably, leaving you in awe.

“Careful.” Jake murmurs to you as he holds you against him at the moment you dismount, resulting in you nearly stumbling forward due to the imbalance and how your ankle throbs familiarly with subtle pain, but thankfully, it is healing rapidly.

“Sorry.” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as he assists you by removing the helmet from your head and adjusting your tousled hair with a touch of gentleness.

“Thank you.” Your sincerity sends a foreign sensation through him while his eyes meet yours. Soon, a frown touches your lips. “But why exactly did you bring me here?”

“To have fun, of course.” He casts you a grin before beckoning you to follow him, and you do, allowing him to guide you to the door that leads into the palace while you take a brief glance at the garage once more.

“Fun?” You repeat it in incredulity.

His melodious chuckles ring through your head. “Fine. I brought you here because I wanted to hang out with you.” He tells you, and you detect sincerity in his tone. “Plus, I do enjoy your company.”

“If you wanted to hang out with me, you could’ve asked me tomorrow instead.”

“Well, the opportunity was there earlier, so I couldn’t miss it.” He gives you a side glance. “Besides, you looked like you needed something to ease your mind.”

Surprise flickers in your gaze. “I do, actually.”

“Then I’m your man for the night.” His breathy chuckles erupt the butterflies in your tummy. “So, what do you want to do?”

You open your mouth to speak, but an uproar comes from the second floor, prompting you to look up with bewildered eyes. “The others are here?” You ask him, and that is when you finally realise the familiar bikes in the garage earlier that belong to those delinquents.

“Yeah, but don’t mind them.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Then you should join them instead. You don’t need me to keep you company.”

“But I'd rather be with you, lovely.” He murmurs, catching you off guard when he tugs at your wrist, pulling you closer to him with his hand making its ascent to cradle the cusp of your jaw.

Your breath catches in the back of your throat as his eyes zero in on yours, while each stroke from his thumb on your smooth cheek intensifies the butterflies in your tummy.

This time, you dismiss another commotion coming from above as you are busy getting mesmerised by his dark gaze that holds tumultuous sentiments, yet it seems to be luring you in, enticing you to explore the darkness within him.

“What do you want to do?” He asks softly, still not releasing you.

You ignore a small voice that is imploring you to push him away. “What do you have in mind?”

“Trust me. You wouldn’t want to know, lovely.” His lips curve into a smirk before he drops his hand from your cheek, but his fingers remain latched around your wrist as he pulls you with him. “I’m sure you haven’t had the chance to explore the palace, but first, I want to bring you to our private cinema.”

As Jake drags you with him, heading towards the elevator, your eyes widen as you feel astounded at the fact that this palace has its own cinema, and subsequently, you begin to wonder what else is there in this very palace. You definitely won’t be surprised if there are hidden passages somewhere here.

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One thing is certain: you regret agreeing to watch Scream with him.

Your eyes are trained on the large screen, and your face contorts into a grimace when the victim’s blood is oozing from the terrible wound.

A wince leaves your lips while you find yourself instinctively burying your head into his shoulder with your fingers clutching at the hems of his top. You attempt to drown out the noise of the victim’s cries and pleas as well as the eerie sound effect that reverberates throughout the private cinema that is equivalent to the width of that of a public cinema.

Jake turns his head to glance down at you. A chuckle emits from him as he finds you adorably endearing with how often you have attempted to use him as your shield whenever the gory parts of the movie play on the screen.

“I recall a certain someone telling me in confidence that she wasn’t afraid of watching the movie.” Jake drawls his words out, his lips remaining a smirk as you slowly raise your head to meet his eyes that hold such mischief.

In return, you can only afford to chuckle nervously. You can’t let him know that the reason you’re afraid is because your mind would always drift to the terrible events on Devil’s Night whenever the gory part of the movie came up. Moreover, your skin is crawling with disquietude the longer you’re in this very palace.

Yes, the palace looks magnificent, but you can discern the foreboding atmosphere that sends you involuntary chills every now and then. A part of you is telling you that the moment Jake brought you inside, you ought to be wary and apprehensive of your safety.

“Can we watch something else?” You murmur to him, still clinging to his arm, though not as awkwardly as you did earlier. You remain facing him, but your eyes are crestfallen with your head lowered, allowing the strands of your hair at the side to fall.

“Why? I’m quite enjoying this.” Jake continues to tease you while enjoying the fact that you are clinging to his arm dependently, with your breasts occasionally brushing against his arm.

You surprise yourself when a whine elicits from you and your pink lips form into a small pout as you meet his eyes that seem to be darkening. “Please, Jaeyun?”

His chest rumbles in pleasure at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. “Fine.” He eventually concedes before reaching out for the controller at the side to put the movie on pause. “It turns out you are afraid of horror and thrillers after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his teasing grin, but you cave in as a sigh leaves your lips. “Yes. Now you can have another laugh at it.”

“Nah, I was just messing with you, lovely.” Jake leans forward to ruffle your hair while you are taken aback by the nonexistent space between the two of you. “Everyone has their own fears.”

“So what are your fears?” You inquire to him, feeling rather keen to know him better.

“I don’t have any.” Jake lies through his cheeky grin. “Tell me yours.”

A niggling of prudence tickles the back of your mind as if to warn you about telling him any parts of your vulnerability that he might potentially use against you.

But as you get lost in the depths of his devastatingly beautiful brown eyes, you feel a certain compulsion to reveal everything about you, including your worries, to him.

“Genres of thriller and gore, insects,” You begin to list down, murmuring as you do so with your head lowered and your cheeks tinted pink at the fact that he has his full attention on you. “losing my loved ones, being a disappointment and failure to anyone I hold dear close to my heart.”

“You? A failure?” Jake grips your chin gently but firmly enough to force your eyes to meet his. “Lovely, you are the epitome of perfection.”

Your cheeks flare with diffidence, and even if you want to look away from him, you can’t. “I’m not perfect, Jake.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jake leans his face close to yours, causing your breath to hitch, but he stops just close enough until the tips of your noses graze ghostly against each other’s. Your heart flutters at the warmth of his touch from his palm on the side of your thigh, rubbing it tantalisingly slowly. “and wrong name, baby.”

In an instant, he has you hoisted and settles you on top of his lap with your legs straddling his muscular denim-clad thighs while your skirt is hiked up, allowing a teasing peek of your skin. Instinctively, your hands find their way to his shoulders, feeling how toned and broadened they are beneath your touch, which pays off as a result of his consistency in working out.

The cold air in the private cinema shifts drastically. The tension is palpable, and you fear it might snap at any moment in time, especially the way he is gazing at you dangerously with lidded eyes.

You are rendered speechless by the escalation, unable to form any coherent sentences. The heat of his touch on your thighs sends you involuntary shivers down your spine while his dark eyes are penetrating into yours, which are swimming with sentiments you recognise. Danger, desire, and lust.

“You’re so fucking adorable, do you know that?” The low husk in his voice stirs something within you. Your lips go slightly parted at the sensation of his palm rubbing your thigh once more. “Can you do me a favour, lovely?” Although he is asking you, you know that it is a demand.

Your mind is screaming at you to push him away and flee from him, but it is as though his touch and gaze cast a spell on you that renders you compliant.

With the inexplicable haze clouding your better judgement, you nod your head, and his lips curl into a smirk.

“I want to see you in fishnet tights. You’ll look good in them.” His eyes rake all over your body until they fall to your plush thighs. He desires to dig his nails into the suppleness of your flesh, but your thigh-high socks are a hindrance.

His demand leaves you flabbergasted, and you continue to remain silent, to which Jake doesn’t seem satisfied.

He raises his hand to cup your cheek, bringing your full attention to his dark gaze. “Can you do that for me?” He asks firmly, applying pressure to the hesitancy you bear in your mind.

“Yes.” You utter your answer while your mind vehemently disagrees with you. A newfound desire kindles in you, and that is to please Jake.

“Good.”

You feel his hand creeping from your thigh to your buttcheek, eliciting an inaudible gasp from you, before he pulls your body closer to his until you feel something hard touching your core. Your heart lurches in your chest while the tension between the two of you feels suffocating.

“Jaeyun,” You whisper his name as you feel paralysed by the sensation of his hardened dick beneath you, and you fear that one movement from you will unleash the inner devil that lurks beneath his charming facade.

His strong cologne infiltrates your senses, enticing you to bury your head into his chest and bask in his scent, but with his face leaning closer to yours, you hold yourself back from doing so.

His nose touches yours while his hot breath fans above your lips. By now, his eyes are darkened and shrouded with lustful desire for you, wanting nothing more than to devour you, fucking you into oblivion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, contradictory to how he is holding you possessively with his hand holding and palming your buttcheek while the other is wrapped around your waist.

No, you should definitely say no. Your first kiss is reserved solely for the one who will be marrying you.

“Yes.” Your heart pounds harder in anticipation of your answer.

With your consent, he closes the gap between your lips while you flutter your eyes closed, awaiting the kiss.

Just as you envisioned, his warm lips feel soft and plump as he kisses you sweetly, which has your toes almost curling. He kisses like you are made out of glass, and he takes his time as though he is memorising the shape of your lips in the back of his mind.

But you remain unmoving, uncertain of how to kiss him, and embarrassment floods across your cheeks. When he pulls away, your chest tingles with disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” You find yourself apologising to him, your eyes crestfallen. Disheartened, you slouch your shoulders and avoid his gaze. “I don’t know how to kiss.” You mutter weakly while your fingers curl into fists as they rest on his chest.

“Lovely, look at me.” His soft command compels you to heed, and when you raise your head, your heart nearly lurches in your chest when he pulls you by the nape and slams his lips on yours, and this time, there is a sense of urgency and desperation as he kisses you.

Compared to the previous kiss, this kiss is messy, sloppy even, as you are unable to coordinate with how he is kissing you, but what genuinely confuses you is the fact that he doesn’t seem the slightest bothered by how bad you are at kissing. It is as though what matters to him most is the taste of your lips.

Your stomach churns with guilt, yet your core is pooling with newfound desire. Your lips part as you gasp at the sensation of his hardness grinding against yours, and you can almost feel his tip hitting your clothed clit that is aching with forbidden need. You can almost feel how big he is.

Jake grasps the opportunity to force his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of your hot cavern while his nails dig into the flesh of your ass. You try your best to keep up with him, your tongue tangling with his wet muscle in a mess, yet it is a mess that elicits a moan from the back of your throat.

You move your hips tentatively, testing waters, but soon you are grinding your hips against his while you attempt to feel the delirious friction of your clit rubbing against his pointed tip. A low groan emits from him at how painful his cock is, wanting nothing more than to bury himself inside of you. But he knows that he must wait patiently.

You gasp in pain when he has your bottom lip between his teeth, and you whimper as he tugs and pulls it teasingly, prompting you to flutter your eyes open and meet his dark, hypnotising ones. The corner of his lip tips up in a smirk before he devours you once more, and this time, he is assisting you with the other hand gripping your waist.

“You’re doing so fucking for me, lovely.” He rasps against your wet, parted lips with soft moans, leaving them. “So, so perfect just for me.” He purrs seductively before kissing you, while his praises send your heart fluttering.

“Jake.” You whimper against his lips in need, and goosebumps arise on your skin when he growls into the kiss. It all happens too fast, because the next thing you know, he has you pinned on the couch while your legs remain wrapped around his waist.

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your neck, eliciting a pleasurable sigh from you, but a pained whimper follows when he bites down your skin in a threatening manner.

“Wrong name, baby.” He murmurs against your skin, his hand squeezing the plush of your thigh almost painfully. “What is my name?”

“Jae─” Your eyes roll to the back of your head while a breathless moan leaves your lips at the sensation of his hardened dick grinding against your pussy. “Jaeyun!”

“That’s fucking right.” He pulls away from you, hovering on top of you with his chain necklace dangling above you. You catch a glimpse of his inked tattoo on his collarbone area. “Do you want more?” He grinds again, deliberately.

“N-No.” You deny, shaking your head, but the moan that rips out from your lips betrays you, as does the way you buck up your hips in an attempt to feel for the delirious friction between your clit and his pointed tip.

Jake tuts as he halts his movement, his hand moving to brush the messy strands covering your cheeks. “It’s a sin to lie, my pretty girl.”

“Jaeyun, please!” You plead, throwing away your dignity.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He chuckles breathily, finding pure delight in the way your eyes are glistening with need. He leans down to place a chaste kiss on your moist lips and remains there before murmuring, “But if you really want more, meet me by the entrance of the palace tomorrow night, and don’t forget to wear your fishnet thighs, yeah?”

No, for God’s sake, you should be saying no.

“Okay.” You breathe out your answer, earning you a grin from him.

You ignore the disappointment in you when he unwraps your legs from his waist and rises from the couch to adjust his denim jacket while you remain motionless, your mind in a muddle. By now, your lips are swollen, and your chest is heaving up and down from the aftermath.

Jake stares down at you with a smirk at the remnants of lust gleaming in those mesmerising eyes of yours before he extends his hand to you, which you gladly accept. As you abruptly stand, your knees nearly buckle underneath you, prompting you to latch your hand onto his bicep for support before you retract your hand from him, as though he is poisonous.

“I’d like to go back to my dorm, please.” You tell him meekly, avoiding his gaze.

You don’t say anything as you allow him to grab your hand and guide you out of the private cinema that is now tainted with traces of your sinful desire for the very delinquent you have been warned to stay away from.

All the while, as he sends you back to your dorm, your clit remains tingling and aching for some relief.

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By the time you’ve reached your dorm, the time has nearly struck midnight. You had expected your roommates to be sound asleep, but when you attempt to be tactful by opening the door as quietly as you can and sneaking to your room with light footsteps in the dark, you are being greatly startled as the lights in the living room abruptly switch on, revealing two of your best friends settled in the living room.

The expressions painted on their canvas are certainly not anywhere near satisfactory, while they seem to mirror each other in the way they remain seated on the couch with their stern gazes on your figure.

“It’s nearly midnight, Y/N Kang.” Wonyoung states the obvious, her voice is so emphatic that it almost makes you cringe, because you hate it whenever she gets upset with you.

You chew your inner cheeks as you look away from their gaze while you tighten the clutch on the strap of your backpack. “Yes, and?” You dare to display your defiance, which rarely happens.

Wonyoung scoffs loudly, her disbelief is more than apparent. She rises from the couch and approaches you slowly, her eyes remaining fierce. “You’ve never come back this late! You didn’t even reply to any of our texts or return our calls!” She exclaims. “Do you even know how worried sick we got? The least you could do is inform us of your whereabouts.”

“You’re not my mother.” You snap at her, and you didn’t even intend to, but there is a newfound sensation bubbling within you that you want to unleash. Sure, Wonyoung and you bicker and even fight for a short period of time before returning to normalcy, but this time is different.

It almost feels as though you are completely fed up by their overprotectiveness and the way they often treat you like a helpless kid who knows nothing about what all stereotypical college students are like, and even more so when they often dictate your life choices.

Wonyoung’s glare deters you just slightly. “First, you’ve been giving us the cold shoulders since Saturday, and now you’re getting all attitude on us? I don’t know what happened to you, but you need to stop acting like a bitch.”

You flinch lightly as her words impact you, causing hurt to be written all over your features. Throughout the years you have known her, Wonyoung has never called you a bitch. Upon seeing the hurt reflecting in your eyes, guilt dawns on Wonyoung, but before she can apologise, you cut her off with a cold yet wavering tone.

“The fact that you still don’t even realise it yet proves that either you don’t care or you simply decided to close both eyes.”

“How are we supposed to realise anything when you don’t even confide in us?!” Wonyoung argues back.

“Hey, what’s with all the yelling?” Karina emerges from her room as she yawns, her hair is tangled while she is in her usual pyjamas, which consist of a black singlet and high shorts.

“Because I don’t feel comfortable with you guys anymore!” You raise your voice as you disregard Karina, now in a glaring contest with Wonyoung, while Yunjin’s worry is evident as she stands next to the latter. “After what happened on Devil’s Night, I don’t even know how to look at all of you the same as before.”

Amidst the anger, confusion is visible through Wonyoung’s gaze. “What are you talking about? And why did you bring up Devil’s Night?”

“Tell us what really happened on Devil’s Night that made you act this way towards us, please.” Yunjin interjects firmly, but her gaze is softened, almost making you forget something about her.

The traumatising events reoccur in your mind as you release a shaky breath while attempting to maintain eye contact with Yunjin. “I saw you in the labyrinth garden. You were with one of the knights.” Your confession throws Yunjin off guard as she flinches visibly. “You were obviously enjoying it, even when the other knights were hunting down the rest of us and killed some students. Not to mention that there were gravely injured ones!”

Yunjin swallows harshly and takes a step forward. “I can explain─”

But your eyes return to Wonyoung before they dart down at her neck bearing hickeys. “Those are from Jungwon when he captured you that same night.” Your presumption proves correct when her cheeks tint pink. “I was worried for you and thought that he did something horrible to you, or worse.”

Getting overwhelmed by the different emotions that coalesce into one, your eyes begin to glisten with tears, blurring your vision with each blink. You can discern the guilt hanging in the cold air that is infused with their silence, but you continue to vent out the feelings you have suppressed.

“The thing that made me most upset about it was the fact that all of you didn’t seem the slightest bothered by what happened on Devil’s Night, including those students who were murdered by the notorious frat delinquents, and their only sins were simply having fun on a normal Halloween night!” You choke a sob with a fallen teardrop sliding down your cheek. “Even the rest of the students acted normal as if Devil’s Night wasn’t inhumane and traumatising enough.”

“That’s just how Devil’s Nights have always been.” Yunjin says her expression remains calmly collected, which infuriates you, because why does she seem indifferent about it? “And for that very reason, Devil’s Night is never meant for anyone with a faint heart.”

“Why are you suddenly blowing up on us about this?” Karina asks, giving you a bewildered stare. “We thought you were fine with it.”

“Because you girls should have told me in the first place how heinous Devil’s Night is!” You retort. “You girls were the ones who thought it was a good idea to bring me along with you in the first place.”

“I recall you agreeing and going to Devil’s Night on your own accord.” Wonyoung remarks annoyedly, her eyes narrowing at you.

“My biggest mistake.” You say in a tone that sounds foreign in your ears while you clench a fist. “You know what? I’m done with this.”

Just as you are about to retire to your room, Yunjin stops you with her inquiry, “At least tell us where you were earlier.”

With your back turned on them, you contemplate before opting for the other route. “None of your business.” You tell her quietly, yet it is resounding for them before you proceed to your room in haste and slam the door shut.

Your mind is on autopilot as you refuse to wallow in whatever feelings are storming all over you, heading for the bathroom to take a shower.

Minutes have passed since you entered the bathroom. Currently, you have just washed off the shampoo from your hair and are rinsing off the lathered soap on your body. Your face is devoid of emotion, but then comes the thought of Jake in your mind.

You recall what happened between the two of you earlier and how disgustingly aroused you were. A muscle pulses in your jaw while self-hatred shrouds you. How could you have done such deplorable acts just after you had sought forgiveness?

The shower steam is starting to fog in the bathroom as you remain under the shower head, allowing the water to rinse you thoroughly and self-reflecting your prior behaviour.

But it feels as though there are devils whispering into your ears, making you recall again with another perspective how truly aroused you were and the delicious friction between your clit and the pointed tip of his clad cock, how the heat of his touch and his wet, messy kisses ignited your arousal.

You feel the familiar sensation stirring in your core before the essence starts to leak its way to your folds simply by fantasising about your ex-crush burying his thick cock into you. You squeeze your thighs in an attempt to suppress your arousal while simultaneously battling an internal conflict with yourself for being sinful once more.

Finally surrendering yourself to the devil’s lulling whisper, you begin to fantasise about Jake kissing you hotly and messily while groping every part of your body, his husky voice whispering all the dirty things seductively in your ear while he fucks you relentlessly.

You lean your back against the wall, slowly spreading your legs for good measure. Your fingers trail down to your aching clit which is in need of relief, while your free hand fondles your boob. Your head is tilted up with your chest heaving up and down as you circle your clit before you set a pace that is addictive, maintaining momentum that has you breathing heavily now.

Eventually, a moan leaves your lips as you rub and circle your clit fast while your fingers tweak and pull your hardened nipple. You begin to fantasise about Jake again, and this time, you imagine him doing this to you.

You had no idea how truly sensational masturbation was until now. You continue to get lost in the delirium, and you try your utmost to keep your moans at a minimum, but it’s like you lack the ability for control as you release moans that echo throughout the walls of the bathroom which you fear your best friends might hear.

You don’t stop, and you increase the pace as soon as you feel your orgasm impending. With one last moan, you finally come undone, feeling the sticky essence leaking from your wet folds.

With heavy pants, you quickly compose yourself by washing away the evidence of you coming undone. You know you should be disgusted with yourself, but amidst the immense guilt of the blasphemous deed, you feel a certain change within you.

Maybe you should meet him tomorrow by the palace and find out what he has in store for you.

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The next morning, you fall into your normal routine ─ waking up early for morning classes despite the lack of sleep last night, and evading your three best friends once again. But one thing is certain is the fact that you have been battling against the internal conflict within you.

Of course, before you fell into the state of slumber, you prayed and sought forgiveness from God with tears brimming in your eyes, but you felt like a hypocrite as soon as you woke up from the sleep filled with a lustful dream of Jake, and you were embarrassed by the fact that even in your sleep, you managed to get wet, as evident by the dampness of your pink underwear.

Throughout your morning class, you have been completely distraught and contemplated hard on your decision to meet Jake by the palace or not, and you tried conjuring any possibilities of tonight's outcome. Against your better judgement, you chose to venture to the route that the rational part of you has been relentlessly trying to stop you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand before you glance down to read a text from your good friend, prompting you to increase your walking pace.

WINTER: I’m on my way to your dorm. As much as I’m happy that you’re finally wearing something sexy for once, do I really want to know what is going on and why?

YOU: I’ll tell you later, but only if you promise to keep it a secret from the others.

WINTER: Our good baby girl is finally being scandalous now? Sign me up! Fine, I promise I won’t reveal your secret to others.

YOU: You’re the best, Minjeongie~

WINTER: I was born to be the best, babe.

You chuckle lightly before lifting your head up, but you bump into a solid back that causes you to stagger a step back. “I’m sorry.” Just as you apologise, his strong arm slings around your neck, causing you to nearly stumble forward under his weight.

“Hey, Y/N.” His sultry voice greets you, sending you bad shivers while your skin crawls with disgust as you finally look at him. You know him mainly because he used to throw vulgar remarks at you, and he and his other pals would often verbally bully you. They stopped when your friends stepped in and defended you from them.

“Alex,” You don’t bother to conceal your grimace as you attempt to shrug off his arm from your shoulder, but that only earns you to be roughly pulled into his side. You ignore the demeaning chuckles from his two pals. “let go of me.”

“I don’t think so, especially after we saw Giselle’s instastory of you wearing that tight dress and dancing like a stripper on Devil’s Night.” Alex’s disgustingly hot breath fans your earlobe as he speaks in a seductive lull. “If I had known beneath your pristine good girl facade is an attractive slut who should put her mouth to good use─”

Having had enough of being slut-shamed once more, you use your elbow to hit him hard in the stomach while a part of you is taken by surprise by your newfound bravery. Alex groans out in pain as he releases you, but his other pal, who goes by the name Simon, grabs your arm and slams you against the wall, eliciting a pained gasp from you at the impact.

By now, you tremble in fear when Simon pins you with no way out, his knee forcefully parting your legs. His lips curl into a sneer as he glares down at you. “Did you forget who we are? I guess it’s time we teach you a little lesson.”

You attempt to shove him by the chest, but your strength is no match compared to his. “Get away from me!” Your voice is laced with desperation for help, hoping that the students in your vicinity will come to save you, but they proceed to mind their own business as if they didn’t see you getting assaulted by your past bullies.

Your three bullies laugh degradingly as they surround you before Simon grabs a fist of your hair to pull your head to the back and force your neck to arch for him to administer his assault on your dainty neck as his lips touch your skin.

The corner of your eye is filled with tears, and this earns you a mockery of ‘awww’ from Alex and his other pal, who goes by Hans.

“No one’s going to help you, bitch.” Hans slaps your cheek lightly while you continue to struggle in Simon’s grasp. “You’re crying? We haven’t even done anything to you yet.

“What a fucking loser, as always.” Alex remarks with a smirk, watching you with a cruel glint in his eye.

Just as you think it’s over for you, a familiar yet sharp voice slices through the air like a knife that nearly has you flinching at how resonant it is. “Release her.”

Never have you ever expected Park Sunghoon to be the one to save you, or so you thought.

Simon doesn’t release the instant, but he does, however, look over his shoulder to cast a sneer at Sunghoon, whose face is devoid of emotion. “Mind your own business, Park. She’s ours to deal with.”

“We didn’t expect you to save your damsel in distress, Sunghoon.” Hans comments with his eyebrow arched, intrigued. “I thought you hated this bitch.”

Your eyes glisten at the moment Sunghoon’s cold eyes meet yours, the familiar sentiment you recognise all too well glints in his dark eyes. His lips curve into a sardonic smirk. “You’re right, but I’m not going to repeat myself when I tell you once again to release Y/N Kang.”

“Why?” Alex asks with a bewildered glare.

All the while, Sunghoon’s eyes remain on yours as he continues to speak, “Because she’s already mine to deal with. Trust me when I say I’ll be doing you guys a favour.”

Simon groans. His hand, which is grabbing a fist of your hair, tightens, eliciting a painful wince from you. “Just a few more minutes, Park. Let me fuck around with her for a little.

Sunghoon’s mere action of his hand gripping Simon’s shoulder firmly takes you by a slight surprise, as does the peculiar glint in his gaze at the back of the latter’s head. “I wasn’t asking, and you’ll do well to remember whose rank is higher between us.”

Simon clenches his jaw before he eventually releases you, allowing you to grasp the opportunity to calm your nerves. “Fine. You want her?” The next thing you know, Simon’s hands are on your shoulders tightly as he shoves you roughly towards Sunghoon, resulting in your tumble, and you find yourself on the ground.

You withstand the painful impact of landing on your knees. With your palms on the ground in front of you, you curl them into fists at the utter humiliation while you hear your three bullies snicker behind you. You allow your hair to cover any parts of your face as you refuse to look up, afraid of the expression on Sunghoon’s face.

“She’s all yours to deal with.” Simon tells Sunghoon with a sense of mockery.

“I don’t suppose you can consider sharing her with us.” Alex inquires smugly.

As you are directly kneeling in front of Sunghoon, you can feel him bending down before you feel his cold fingers gripping your chin tight and forcing you to look up at him.

The concoction of abhorrence and wickedness dance delightfully in his eyes, evoking a sense of foreboding from you. "Sorry, fellas, but you gotta find other girls to prey on. Y/N Kang is mine, and if it makes you feel better, I’ll do her much worse.” Sunghoon tells them, all the while keeping his cruel gaze on your glistening eyes.

His cold eyes rake over your features once more before he lets out a scoff. “Pathetic.” He utters the word to you as he releases your chin roughly.

You hear your three bullies erupt into laughter and praise Sunghoon. You finally find the will to look up and spot the three of them surrounding Sunghoon as they proceed to walk away from you.

With sore knees, you begin to rise from the ground and ignore the stares from the students in your vicinity who had witnessed the entire humiliation.

Your heart squeezes painfully as you recall the cruelty in Sunghoon’s cold gaze. You blame yourself for expecting him to save you when you should have known that he would side with your bullies.

As you wipe another fallen teardrop from your cheek, you advance forward, resuming your journey to your dorm, but your feet are practically dragging with a trail of your disheartened spirit.

All the while, you fail to realise a pair of familiar eyes with inexplicable storms have been watching the entire thing.

With a face devoid of emotion, he watches your low-spirited figure get further and further before he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. He whips out his phone and proceeds to read the text notification from his best friend.

SUNGHOON: They took the bait.

JAKE: Thanks. Remind Jungwon and Riki to lock every entrance and exit tonight.

The corner of Jake’s lips tips up in a smirk, while there is a familiar bloodthirsty glint in his eye as he leans away from the wall to make his way to meet the others.

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You stare in incredulity at the garments that are laid out on your bed, while the not-so-subtle squeals from your high-spirited friend don’t go unnoticed by you.

When you specifically asked Winter if you could borrow her fishnet tights, you naturally expected her to bring the aforementioned items, but you definitely did not expect her to bring along some of her garments.

The garments consist of a black long-sleeve button-up crop top and a black pleated skirt that reaches way above your knees, barely covering your thighs. Uncertainty resides in your gaze. One of your biggest insecurities is that your thighs are thicker than your best friends’.

Honestly, you’re not too fat, but neither are you too thin. Your body proportion is something you have always found unusual. Your shoulders are slender, your breasts weigh heavier, and you admit that it hurts to run sometimes. Your snatched waist as well as your hip dips are something you are proud of, but your thighs have always been an issue for you whenever you want to try out denim pants or just pants that don’t cater to your size. Plus, you have always received remarks about your thighs from some people.

“Um, Winter,” You scratch your damp hair while your body remains wrapped in a towel. “I think the fishnet tights are enough since I did specifically ask for them.” You point out the obvious along the lines of light chuckles.

“I know that, duh, but to add some spice, you have to wear these.” Winter’s adamant tone leaves you no choice but to acquiesce. “Now that we’re at it, what is the special occasion? Who are you hooking up with?”

You gasp at her just as you retrieve the pleated skirt and the black top. “I’m not hooking up with anyone!”

“Girl, you can’t fool me. I mean, fishnet tights, seriously?” Winter deadpans. “Plus, there is only one person who has fishnet tights kink, and that very person is the one and only Jake Sim.”

Your cheeks flare with diffidence, but a certain curiosity pops into your mind as you stare at her. “How do you know about that?”

“I’ve heard a thing or two from the girls he had slept with in the past.” Winter says, getting distracted as she inspects her acrylic nails. “So are you going to hook up with him or not?”

“I─” You pause, and uncertainty wraps around your head despite your understanding of the clear intent of his suggestion last night. You heave a sigh. “I don’t know, and I don’t even know why I’m doing this.”

“Face it, babe. Deep inside of you, you want a taste of him.” Winter grins smugly while you grimace in return. “I really want to know all the details about how you and him happened, but that can wait.”

You watch as Winter makes her way to your wardrobe drawer, where you store your undergarments, and pulls it open before she rummages through them.

“Winter!” You shriek as she tosses each out, causing them to be scattered on the floor. “I just had them organised last week!”

“I’ll reorganise them for you later!” Winter chirps before finally having her hands on the pieces she looked for. You hear her gasping dramatically. “Y/N Kang! You sneaky little vixen!”

You groan at the gleeful tone in her exclamation as well as the pretty black lace bra and underwear in her grasp. “Karina bought them for my birthday last year.” You grumble out.

“That’s my girl.” A Cheshire grin adorns Winter’s face at the mention of Karina. She shoves those undergarments into your already-occupied hands. “Now go. I’ll be waiting here to do your makeup gorgeously so Jake won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”

You roll your eyes in return, but just as you move forward, you halt your steps and look at Winter, who is seated on the edge of your bed, bouncing lightly with the same grin on her face. “I promise to tell you all the details of how it happened, but can you promise me that you won’t tell the others?”

“You have my word.” Winter gives you a firm head nod.

“Not a single soul.” You say firmly.

“Girl, just get your ass into the bathroom and get changed. I’ll keep all of your naughty deeds in full secrecy.”

Your eyes narrow at Winter as she makes the silly gesture of zipping her mouth before you eventually relax the tension in your head and proceed to change.

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Maybe it has to do with the fact that a part of you has been looking forward to this night, but by the time you arrive by the gates of the palace, you realise that it is still a little earlier than the time Jake had stated last night.

The cold breeze manages to breach through the thin material of your top, sending you shivers before you latch your arms around your figure in an attempt to warm yourself. The same breeze caresses your legs, which are adorned with fishnet tights, prompting you to press the button at the side as it buzzes.

Just as you retract your hand, a moment of ambivalence hits you. The rational part of you is begging for you to reevaluate your absurd decision to come here, but the moment the golden gates automatically open, you know that it is too late to back out. You can only afford to wallow in regret.

With each step you take forward, your heart gradually pounds hard against your chest, uncertain of what the night holds. Of course, you are expecting something that involves resuming where the two of you left off last night, but at the same time, you are caught up in turmoil.

The loud clanging sound of the golden gates surprises you, prompting you to look over your shoulder to see the gates are closed, unable to make your exit. You swallow harshly before proceeding to venture forward.

Naturally, you head for the palace’s entrance, and as soon as you nearly reach it, a figure sporting all-black attire emerges from the side bush, and just his abrupt presence alone manages to give you a scare as you let out a shriek.

You hear chuckles beneath the grey mask that obscures his identity. “You really do have a faint heart.”

At the sound of his voice, a frown tugs at your lips. “Jungwon?”

Once Jungwon removes his mask, his feline-like eyes lock with yours, and his lips curve into a grin that has inexplicable intent. “You arrived earlier than expected.” He remarks calmly while you shift comfortably under his gaze. “Whatever. Either way, you’re going to get what you want the moment you step foot into our zone.”

Jungwon takes a menacing step forward, and instinctively, you recoil, but Jungwon is swift enough to grab you by the arm and pull you roughly towards him. “Last chance for you. Are you sure you’re up for this?” He asks quietly, his dark eyes scrutinising your face. “Because once you agree, everything that will happen next is essentially consensual.”

The apprehension in your tummy becomes tenfold while your mind is imploring you to run from this place, but your curiosity will always get the best of you. “Yes, I’m up for this.” The words fly out of your mouth affirmatively, and the small voice in your head is berating you for basically digging in your own grave.

A glimmer of delight shines in Jungwon’s eye. “You’re stupid, Y/N.” He remarks with a derogatory chuckle, but there is a certain knowingness etched on his face. “But I can see why he has taken a liking to you.”

You ignore the way his eyes rake all over your figure before he returns his gaze to your face and tightens his grip on your arm. “Let’s go.”

Instead of guiding you into the palace, Jungwon navigates his way around the building while literally dragging you as you struggle to keep up with him.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, and you nearly stumble due to the roughness of his deadly grip on your arm as he continues to pull you.

Jungwon doesn’t answer your question straight away, and just as you are about to inquire once more, your attention is pulled away from him to the familiar massive labyrinth garden. Those unpleasant memories from Devil’s Night flood your mind while you stagger a step back, flinching in fear.

You haven’t realised Jungwon has released his grip on your arm until his voice draws your attention to him once more. “Jake doesn’t know that you’re here yet, because he is preoccupied with a little something.” Your eyes narrow at his coy smile. “In fact, I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“Then why have you brought me here?” You ask adamantly, no longer restraining your great annoyance for him.

“To spice things up, as you girls would say. You should head inside and don’t even think about trying to escape.” Jungwon warns you, his smile is no longer on his face. He takes deliberate, slow steps back while keeping his dark gaze trained on your face. “Good luck, Y/N. Hopefully, you’ll survive the night.”

“What?” You frown, watching as he gets further and further away. “Jungwon!”

Concurrently, as soon as you call for Jungwon, a scream belonging to a man pierces through the cold air, startling you. Your heart begins to pound in apprehension as you hear some commotion nearby.

You should have run away, but instead, you take tentative steps forward while you survey your surroundings, and you can discern another noise that sounds awfully akin to those gory movies you watched, as though someone is being stabbed.

“H-Hey, man! We can talk things out instead!”

You frown at the familiar voice of your bully, who sounds frantic and pleading with someone. You halt your steps just as you are about to turn to the right corner, where the source of the commotion is happening.

“You should’ve thought about it the moment you dared to touch and kiss her with your filthy lips.”

You are nearly rendered shocked by the unfamiliar coldness in his tone amidst the palpable darkness. You swallow down a lump in your throat before daring yourself to take a peek, and when you do, your eyes widen in mortification at the gruesome sight of Alex and Han’s lifeless bodies with blood splattered everywhere, but what horrifies you the most is the slit wound on their necks with blood oozing profusely still.

“You’re fucking deranged, Jake!” Simon’s yell pulls your attention to them, and you watch as Simon attempts to crawl backwards away from Jake while his hand is holding the side of his bleeding waist. “To go to this extent just for that fat bitch?!”

You know too well he is referring to you, causing you to wallow momentarily in dejection upon the familiar insult you have heard before. But Simon’s yell pulls your gaze to him again, and this time, you accidentally release an audible gasp that no doubt reaches their ears.

With Jake’s back facing you, you watch in pure horror when he plunges the knife in his grasp deep into Simon’s stomach with no hesitation. Simon coughs out blood, and that is also when you realise how badly fucked up his face looks.

“The ‘fat bitch’ you referred to has a name, and for the record, she’s not fat.” Jake’s voice sounds deeper, and you can detect the snarl in his tone. “I’m so gonna enjoy killing you for assaulting what’s mine.”

“She’s not worth it!” Simon manages to splutter, wheezing as Jake twists the knife deeper into his stomach before he withdraws the knife to bring it to Simon’s neck. Simon doesn’t have the opportunity to say his last words when Jake swiftly slices his neck with clean precision, as though he is an expert at killing his victim.

You watch as the life in Simon’s eyes perishes before Jake roughly releases him, allowing his body to fall to the ground with a loud thud.

Numbness is all you can feel. As you stare at their lifeless bodies, you have no idea what to feel for them. Internal conflict resides with you. A part of you agrees with the fact that they deserve to die after what they did to you, but the goodness in you feels sorrowful over their deaths.

The metallic smell of their blood pervades the foreboding atmosphere as well as your nostrils, snapping you out of the trance before you redirect your focus on the man whom you thought wasn’t capable of such a heinous act.

Holding the blood-stained knife that is dripping with the remnants of Simon’s blood, he slowly turns around, giving you a good view of his appearance. Your jaw goes unhinged upon seeing the ghostface mask obscuring his face.

By now, it is too late for you to hide yourself from him, as you can almost feel the intensity of his gaze behind that mask. Trepidation courses through your veins while your stomach churns with uneasiness as you stare at him in a different light.

Jake tilts his head slightly to one side, as though he is curious. “What are you doing out here?”

You don’t answer his question as you dart your eyes at your dead bullies before swallowing harshly. “You killed them.”

Jake takes a step forward, but you instinctively back away from him. “Why the sad face, beautiful? Shouldn’t you be glad that I did you a favour? They won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You curl your hand into a fist while you attempt to soothe your nerves. “But you didn’t have to kill them.” You say shakily.

“Of course, I had to!” Jake’s sudden outburst startles you, making you go flinching. “Don’t you understand? They fucking assaulted you! This is the consequence of their actions!”

“You’re crazy, Jake!” You surprise yourself when you manage to find your voice, but your hand remains trembling in fear for the man you thought was filled with radiant kindness.

Jake halts his steps, and it is hard for you to decipher the expression on his face, but at the moment he releases chuckles, you shiver at how dark and deadly he sounds. “You haven’t seen anything crazy yet, beautiful.”

In a blink of an eye, he charges towards you, and your body goes into a fight-or-flight mode as you find yourself running away from him. You don’t even have the time to marvel at your agility and how you are able to run at this pace, only desperate to fight for your survival.

Behind his mask, a cunning grin smears across his lips, finding the sheer thrill and excitement in preying on you. He purposefully decreases his pace, giving you the illusion that you have managed to outrun him as the two of you have entered the palace.

Things have differed from the original plans he had for you. You weren’t even meant to witness him kill your bullies. He had only intended to let you know after he managed to bury himself inside of you. Part of him is mad at Jungwon, but he can’t deny that this changes things into a rather thrilling adventure.

The darkness lurking beneath his charming countenance relishes the palpable fear and anxiety you exude as he watches you ascend to the second floor in haste.

You stop momentarily to take a breather. Your chest squeezes painfully with each breath you take. As you look around, you silently berate yourself for not making it to the exit of the palace.

“Awww, why did you stop running?” Your body goes frigid upon hearing his voice just a few metres from behind you.

You whip around, staring at him with wide panic eyes. “Let’s play a little game, shall we?” He says, taking one step forward. “You’re going to run and find someplace to hide,” A chuckle of delight leaves his lips. “but if I catch you, I will fuck you, and if you try to escape again, I will kill you.”

Jake does not mean it literally. He just wants to give you a good scare. The way your glistening eyes are staring at him in palpable fear entices the wickedness in him.

The trepidation is making your head dizzy, while the fear enveloping your weak heart springs tears to your eyes. “J-Jaeyun─”

“Run, Y/N.” Jake shocks you as he nearly growls out, but it is as though your body has been paralysed, remaining rooted to the ground. “I said fucking run!”

And you do, picking up the pace. The interior is massive enough for you to aid your refuge from facing Jake’s malignity, and you grasp the opportunity to turn into a deep end corner where the long stretch of corridor displays doors that lead to different rooms.

“You better start hiding, my lovely!”

You dash straight for the flight of stairs next to you, all plans of hiding in one of the rooms are forgotten. When you reach the third floor, you have a hunch that either of these doors are their rooms.

Hearing his footsteps approaching from below, you decide to shove yourself inside an empty store room, which lacks any lights, before closing the door as quietly as you can. You whip out your phone frantically in an attempt to turn on the flashlight while your heart is racing at the familiar fear of being shrouded in total darkness.

With a heavy pant as you lean your back against the wall, you grasp this opportunity to regulate your emotions, which feel like a maelstrom within you. Your hand that is holding your phone remains trembling from the trepidation.

Your phone vibrates as notifications pop up.

WONYOUNG: Hey, can we talk later?

WINTER: Have fun, babe! Don’t forget to tell me all the juicy details ;)

You scoff lightly at Winter’s text. If only she knew that Jake was a psychopathic killer who had murdered your bullies. But then again, you don’t feel the slightest remorse.

Instead of responding to any of them, you tuck your phone in your pocket and inch closer to the door. You press your ear against the door in an attempt to listen for his voice or footsteps, but there are none. Your hand finds its way to twist the doorknob before you slowly pull open the door. You peek your head outside and check for the coast.

The ominous atmosphere is accompanied by a cold, deadly silence. Mustering courage, you switch off your flashlight and step out of the room. You begin to devise quickly, deciding that you need to find another way to make your escape.

Stealthily, you advance forward, but hesitation is discernible from each step you take. Your inner turmoil persists while your skin is crawling with dread, hating how painfully silent the whole palace is and how dim the lights are getting.

Just as you are about to make your descent to the second floor, a startled gasp leaves your lips when your eyes lock onto the familiar ghostface. He is leaning sideways against the wall with one arm folded while the other is toying around with his knife.

“Hello, love.” Jake greets you, remaining unmoving from his position while you are trembling with palpable fear for your predator. You can already imagine the grin on his face as you detect his tone.

“Jake,” There is a plea in your voice as you take a step back. “please, let me go.”

But Jake simply ignores your plea. You watch as he goes perfectly still, as does the air around you while your figure is transfixed. You draw a sharp breath while your heart pounds erratically against your chest, uncertain of what to expect next.

The movement of his head tilted catches your keen eyes, and without any warning given to you, he catches you off guard when he dashes up to you, and you release fearful shrieks as you attempt to make a run in the opposite direction.

For a moment, you have forgotten that he used to be the captain of the rugby team, and you underestimated his agility.

With his hand firmly on your arm, he pulls you to him until your back hits his solid chest. You swear you hear his low, ragged breaths beneath his mask, and this position reminds you of the night he danced intimately with you, but this time, he has embodied a serial killer that you watched on screen twice.

Jake doesn’t say anything and forcefully drags you to one of the rooms, which you presume is his room. The cold air smacks you in the face as he forces you into his room. He kicks the door closed behind him before guiding you to his king-sized bed and pushing you down without any thoughts of gentleness.

You land face-flat on the mattress with a grunt before quickly turning around, your eyes staring at your own ghostface looming ominously over your figure. Your skirt is hiked way above your thighs as you attempt to scramble away from him, but just as you do, your pulses drum in your ears when he pins you on the bed with his knee in between your parted legs.

The streaks of moonlight streaming into his bedroom window illuminate the mask, allowing you to soak up the image of his ghostface mask up-closed into your frazzling mind as he leans down. Your eyes widen the slightest fraction while your heart nearly lurches in your chest.

As the faint metallic smell of blood is detectable from his potentially stained black garments, your fear becomes tenfold, but you refrain from allowing the tears that have collected in the rims of your eye to leak out.

"I told you to run, did I not?" The pointed tip of his once blood-stained knife grazes down on your cheek tantalisingly slowly before it reaches your neck.

A tear manages to escape the corner of your eye while you release a whimper that galvanises the wickedness in him. "J-Jake, t-this isn't you─"

"You have no idea who I truly am, lovely." His chuckles that you once found endearing before are laced with malicious intent, and your body trembles with trepidation beneath him when he presses the sharp edge of the knife to your throat. "Do you remember what I told you earlier about what happens if I catch you?"

"You─" Your voice visibly shakes, which denotes fear, and your breath hitches in your throat when he uses his other hand to expertly unbutton your top while he awaits your next words. You swallow a whimper before forcing yourself to speak again. "You will fuck me." You weakly utter the profanity that tastes like poison on your tongue.

"And if you try to escape?" He asks, humming delightfully as he unfastens the last button of your top, now revealing your pretty black lace bra that barely covers the expanse of your plump breasts.

Dread crawls onto your skin as you whisper the next words, "You'll kill me."

You watch as he slowly removes his mask, allowing his long strands to hover over his chiselled forehead. You ignore the way your heart flutters as he smirks down at you with the craze glinting in his eyes. "I'm going to fuck you all night, and you're going to scream my name until you forget yours, but first, spread your legs for me, lovely."

Jake proceeds to unzip the side of your pleated skirt before pulling it down, with you obediently assisting him as you lift your hips, which earns you an appreciative hum from him.

He taps your thigh, a signal you surprisingly understand, and you do as you were told, slowly spreading your legs for him despite the embarrassment flooding scarlet red across your cheeks, but you are thankful that the room barely has any lights. You don’t want him to see the stretch marks around your thighs.

It takes him every ounce of self-restraint from completely pouncing on you and burying his cock to the hilt of your cunt. He can already imagine the sweet taste of your pussy that no one has ever breached.

His eyes rake all over your magnificent figure, and he marvels at how truly perfect you look, especially your thighs that he desires to squeeze around his head as he delves into your cunt.

On the other hand, you take his silence as him judging you, causing your insecurity to resurface until you find yourself closing your thighs, but Jake is not having any of that.

“I said to keep them open, lovely.” Jake speaks through gritted teeth, his hand on the plump of your inner thigh and forcing it open, and you heed his command, not wanting to piss him off any longer.

At the moment his thumb comes into direct contact with your clit, you gasp in surprise. Your mouth opens partially with more inaudible gasps as his thumb begins to stroke your clit tenderly. The thin material of your translucent lace black underwear allows you to feel the friction distinctly.

“Did you dress up all prettily for me, love?” The gentleness in his tone takes you by surprise while he continues his ministration on your now-aching clit, which needs more than his thumb. He hums seductively, leaning down to place a sensual kiss on your throat. “I knew you would never disappoint me. You’re too good. My good fucking girl.”

Butterflies awaken from their slumber in your tummy upon hearing his praise, sending you an odd sensation. Sure, you’ve always earned praise from your family and your friends, but this feels like it's on another level. It makes you crave to seek validation and earn praise from him.

Jake steals your chance to speak as he decides to take you by great surprise when he practically rips your lace underwear, drawing a disbelieving gasp from you. “Jaeyun!”

“It was in the way, lovely.” He nearly whines in between grumbles, surprising you again. Just as he is about to grab both your thighs, you close them again as you shake your head. “Love─”

“They’re too thick.” You allow yourself to display vulnerability over the fact that you’re insecure about your thighs. Your head is turned sideways, and you do not know what the expression on his face is. “M-Maybe we shouldn’t─ Jaeyun!”

A shriek emits from you at the moment he roughly pushes your thighs apart by force and hooks his arms around them before pulling you roughly until your legs are hanging in the air by the bed. That is when you also realise he is kneeling to the ground with his face directly at your clean-shaved pussy.

“Thick or not, I don’t care.” He murmurs, nearly salivating, as his eyes zero in on your pussy. “I’m gonna show you the appreciation you deserve.” He squeezes your thigh with affection.

Something stirs within you, a newfound sentiment, but before you can decipher it, the wet sensation on your folds shocks you before you raise your head slightly to see him lapping his tongue on the heat of your pussy.

“Jae─” You stop midway, your mouth parting open with breathy moans. Your chest heaves up and down, breathing heavily as his wet muscle delves in between your folds. The tip of his nose grazes against your aching clit as he inhales your sweet scent that matches your taste. He continues to eat you out, as though he has been long since deprived of pussy, getting addicted to your taste as he licks your nectar.

Maybe because you’re a virgin, but fuck, you taste divine, unlike anything he imagined. His cock starts to harden at the tightness of your cunt around him.

Eventually, you begin to grind your hips as you desire to feel his tongue deeply into you, and his chest rumbles with approval from your ministration. “Nngh! Oh my god!” A high-pitched moan tears from your throat, rolling your eyes as you throw your head to the back and realise how sensational getting eaten out truly is.

But Jake halts, retracting his tongue from your needy cunt and drawing a whine from you. His tongue hits the roof of his mouth, hating the word that just came out of your mouth.

“God, please, please, please!” You sound pathetic as you plead for him to lap your cunt.

“No more praying for you, baby.” You hear the derogatory tone and husky rasp projecting in his voice, along with that attractive, thick accent.

Your thighs are hurting with the way his nails are digging into your skin, and goosebumps arise on the surface of your skin as he lightly blows at your inviting, wet hole before he takes you by surprise once more as he dives back into you, and this time, the lapping of his tongue on your tongue is messy and sounds utterly obscene.

“Jake!” Your moan sounds disgustingly lewd in your ears, and yet you don’t want this to end, gradually grinding your hips while your fingers are tugging the roots of his raven strands hard, eliciting a groan from him that sends vibration through your body.

“That’s right. Scream my name just like that.” He chuckles darkly as he pulls away from you just slightly before plunging his fingers into you, causing your jaw to unhinge at the abrupt invasion. “This room is your church, and I’m your fucking preacher now, baby.”

You should be hating the words that left his mouth, but instead, you become even more aroused with lust, as it is clouding your better judgement.

His two fingers thrust in and out of your slick cunt tentatively, watching you under his dark gaze. Despite the raging beast in him that is close to being unleashed, he knows that he should be gentle with you, and he also yearns to make your first memorable.

“You okay?” He asks softly, halting his fingering movement upon seeing your face.

Your glistening eyes meet his dark ones as he hovers on top of you, and you nearly melt at the sweetness of his gaze, such a contrast to the person he was earlier. Your eyes flicker down at his plump lips before you slowly nod your head. “I’m okay. I want─”

You smack your lips shut together, feeling diffident at how needy you sound. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of his fingers from your pussy.

“What do you want, lovely?” He asks, his gentle tone is an encouragement to you.

“I want more,” You tell him meekly, but the sincerity in you is palpable. Hesitantly, you decide to take initiative as your hands find their way to slither upward to his chest until they latch on the sides of his neck. “and I want you to kiss me.”

His heart soars at how adorable you are, but soon, the darkness inside of him takes control, wanting nothing more than to ruin you by the time he is done with you. Ruin for anyone to take you. Ruin for his best friends to fuck you.

He presses his lips against yours in a heated kiss, savouring the taste of cherry on your lips that has him kissing you with such fervour. Your skin tingles as his hand roams around your body before it rests on the side of your thigh, palming and squeezing the flesh in appreciation.

Satisfaction spreads across his chest as he hums into the kiss at the fact that you remembered his request that you wear fishnet tights.

As he pulls his lips away from yours, you gasp, feeling utterly breathless by the kiss. Your eyes are dazed as he retrieves the knife from the side without you knowing what he has planned for you next.

“Now, lovely, you’re going to fuck yourself onto my knife and cum on the handle.” He commands darkly, pulling you out of the trance as nervousness pulses through you.

“W-What?” You are clearly flabbergasted by the absurdity of his command and the abrupt shift in his demeanour. “But Jaeyun─”

Your breath hitches in your throat as the handle of the knife touches your clit before he drags it down to your wet slit. “Don’t disappoint your preacher now. You’re my good church girl, aren’t you?” The subtle derogatory tone in his voice makes you aroused instead of humiliated.

“Yes.” You whisper, subsequently grinding your slick cunt on the handle with his hand gripping the other edge. With each stroke you administer, you become more aroused amidst the fear of the sharp edge cutting your skin.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, refraining from eliciting a moan. But Jake narrows his eyes at you and, without warning, pushes the handle in between your wet folds threateningly. “Don’t you dare silence out your pretty moans.”

A whimper emits from you, but you don’t stop grinding, needing to achieve the prior climax. But the knife’s handle alone is not enough, prompting your thumb to find its way to your aching clit that is in need of relief.

Jake watches you with heavy lust that shrouds his dark gaze as you masturbate. The tendrils of your brunette waves spread above you gracefully while your lidded eyes are reflecting the same desire as his, and soft moans occasionally leave your mouth as you grind on the knife sensually. Your chest heaves up and down, allowing his eyes to marvel at the plumpness of your breasts, which are still adorned with a black lace bra.

Oh, you are most definitely his wet dream.

“Jaeyun.” Your pretty moan pulls him out of the trance, and when he looks down at you, your eyes are glistening with needy tears. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, lovely.” He leans down to place a wet kiss on your lips that leaves you wanting more of him. “Wanna see you cum all over this knife.”

He swats your thumb away from your clit and assists you, his thumb circling your clit deliberately fast that has your stomach twist in a knot while his other hand, which is holding the knife, unrelentingly slides up and down on your wet folds.

“J-Jaeyun!” You moan out, throwing your head to the back with your hands now latching onto your breasts to palm them, unintentionally giving him a show to marvel at. With how skillful his thumb is, you feel your orgasm impending.

“Come on, lovely. Cum.” He nearly growls out his command as he quickens the pace of his thumb on your clit, and at once, your thighs slightly tremble as you finally come undone while you roll your eyes to the back.

His tongue slides across his bottom lip as he gazes down, enthralled by the sight of your cum leaking from your wet folds before they drip down to the handle. You whimper when you feel the warm handle come into contact with your folds as he uses it to scoop some of your essence.

Jake brings the handle to your lips. “Open.” On his command, you do, and you are caught off guard when he inserts the handle into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. “Lick your cum.”

Despite the sticky sensation on your tongue that you find disgusting, your tongue begins to lick and swirl around to capture the remnants of your cum. All the while, your eyes remain fixated on Jake’s, wanting to please him.

His eyes darken with something primal at the image of you sucking and licking his cock the way you do now, but he’ll leave that for the others to teach you, because right now, the only thing he needs is to be inside of you.

He pulls the handle away from your mouth and tosses it elsewhere on the bed before slamming his lips on yours, forcing his tongue into the hot cavern of your mouth and licking the remnants of your cum on your tongue. You moan into the lewd kiss, your hands roaming around his body.

“I’m gonna fuck you raw now,” He murmurs against your wet lips before pulling away. “and I’ll be fucking you as ghostface.”

Your heart quickens in anticipation, and the excitement dancing in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by him as he retrieves his mask at the side, chuckling darkly at you. “Yeah? You like the idea of a serial killer fucking you, baby?”

You don’t answer as you watch him shed the mask, obscuring his charming countenance. He unzips his pants and allows them to fall to the ground, prompting you to look at his lower region in surprise to see the visible thickness through the material of his boxer brief.

You look away as soon as he pulls it down. You feel him spreading your thighs once more, and this time, something warm and heavy taps onto your clit causes your body to jolt at the pleasurable sensation. He does it again and again, enjoying how your body responds just by the tip of his cock hitting your clit.

“Please.” You plead in a whimper, hating how he teases you. You attempt to entice him by sensually moving your hips.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He grins behind his mask, collecting the wetness from your folds and using it as lubricant before slowly inserting his dick into your inviting hole that welcomes him, but the tightness is still there, eliciting a hiss from him. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

Your jaw slackens at the girth of his shaft, feeling the thickness that your walls are having a hard time accommodating to his size. A fallen teardrop streaks on your cheek, alarming him.

“It’ll be all right in a moment.” He cups the side of your face, using his thumb to wipe away the tear on your cheek. He grunts as he continues to breach your entry. Your tightness is driving him crazy. “Just gotta get you adjusted to my cock─” Your cunt finally envelopes him wholly. “There we go.” A satisfied groan rumbles deep from his chest, relishing the way your warm walls hug his cock.

As he slowly thrusts into you, the pain you are feeling is unlike any other. You underestimated his thickness.

More tears are collecting in the rims of your eyes as he drags his cock along your walls, but his constant whisper of reassurances and the way he is cradling your cheek with care alleviate the pain temporarily before it transitions into something you discern pleasure in.

Your hand flies to grip onto his bicep for support, feeling his muscle beneath your touch flex.

Upon hearing feeble moans from your lips, he begins to pick up the pace, thrusting into you fervently with an insatiable hunger for you. His fingers dig into your skin at your hips painfully, but it is an addictive pain you relish.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me hard, baby.” His husky voice sends your heart fluttering. He grabs one of your legs and holds it to his shoulder, his hand squeezing your calf while you are a tad surprised by how flexible you are. “Talk to me, lovely. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“So, so good.” The sound of your adorable whine has him clenching his jaw, and a loud moan comes from your throat as he snaps his hips against your bum, burying himself to the hilt. “Jaeyun!”

“Fuck, baby.” He grits his teeth as he feels your walls clamping around him tight, as though they never want to let go. “Scream my name again.”

Jake withdraws his cock from you, leaving only the tip to remain in between your folds, before delivering a hard thrust into you with his hips slapping the back of your thighs painfully. You scream his name again before moaning his name like a mantra as he continues to fuck you.

You whimper with tears streaming down your cheeks as you stare at him, loving the pain and pleasure he is giving you. He grabs your other leg to his shoulder and encases your calf with his arms in a lock before fucking deeply into you in a mating press that nearly has your body folded into half.

For a moment, your jaw goes slacken with silent moans emitting from your lips while your eyes go white as they roll to the back in pure ecstasy, feeling the way he is splitting you open.

With high-pitched moans leaking from your nearly drooled lips, you feel the familiar impending orgasm knocking violently on the door. “Jaeyun!” You begin to scream his name over and over, which sounds euphonious to his ears.

“Yeah? You’re close, lovely?” He asks mockingly, fucking into you without any ounce of mercy while his raging cock is in dire need of release, especially with the way your walls are quivering around him. but he holds himself back from cumming so easily. “Fucking cum all over my cock.”

At his command, you release a high-pitched moan as you come undone for the second time, your thighs quivering in his grasp. You take note of how he rubs your thigh almost affectionately.

You whimper weakly, feeling exhausted from the events that happened tonight, but he is unrelentingly fucking into you. “Jaeyun, no more.” You plead helplessly, and yet, your arousal eventually returns to you the heat of your core despite your sensitivity.

“I’ll stop whenever I want to.” He snarls, chasing for his orgasm, his thighs hitting harshly at the back of your thighs and ass as they jiggle before delivering one last harsh thrust and withdrawing from you. His hand latches around his raging cock to rub it fast before sprouts of his cum emerge from the tip, aiming it at your tummy.

“Fuck yes.” He moans out breathily, sending you a flutter at how good he sounds.

The sensation of his sticky cum on your tummy sends you shivers down your spine. Your eyes lazily glance down, only to be rendered appalled by the girth of his cock as it remains pointed towards you. His two fingers scoop his cum from your tummy to bring it to your lips.

Automatically, your lips part open for him to shove his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to swallow his cum while you remain in eye contact with the eye sockets of his mask.

You moan, licking his fingers, and your tongue swirls around them. You look so fucking innocent with the way your doe eyes are staring at him while you suckle and lick the cum off his fingers like a good slut. His cock starts to harden again.

He pulls his fingers away from your mouth and slaps your thigh. “Get up. We aren’t done.” He says sternly as he unzips his bomber jacket and tosses them aside, revealing his fine glory of toned abdominal muscles that allow your eyes to feast on.

Your eyes trail to the ink tattooed on his right collarbone, an interesting yet beautiful design of a snake.

His hand latches around your forearm to assist you in standing, and when you do, you wobble lightly, but you don’t have time to process anything when he pulls you down. This time, he has you settled on his lap, directly where his cock is.

He grabs his shaft to smack it on your sticky tummy while you hear his low, ragged breaths behind his mask. “You’re going to ride me and take me like the good church girl you are while you confess your sins to me.”

Your breath hitches, feeling him tap his cock on your sensitive clit with his hand on your waist, holding you up slightly as he aims it at your awaiting cunt before he forces you to sink down to his girth, eliciting a moan from you due to the fullness. His cock remains snugly fitted into your pulsating cunt.

“Whenever you are ready.” He says in mockery as he slaps your quivering thigh again. “And I don’t want to see you stop fucking on me.”

With a shaky breath, you grind on him tentatively, unsure if what you’re doing is the right way, but with his hand on your hip serving as an aid, you gain confidence and begin to bounce on him.

“Forgive me, Father,” You struggle to form out the sentence, swallowing a moan at the delirious friction of your walls getting assaulted by the girth of his cock. Your hands latch on his nape for support while your head is tilted to the back, moaning out before speaking shakily again, “for I have sinned.”

“And what are your sins?” Jake asks in between bated breaths, struggling to refrain himself from bucking his hips to meet your thrust.

“For being a hypocrite,” The words fly out of your mouth, as though another person is speaking through you. You bounce on him again, practically using him as you fuck him. “For masturbating myself last night─ Nngh!” You moan as soon as Jake bucks his hips to meet your thrust.

“Did you, now, lovely?” He chuckles darkly, now removing his mask and allowing you to marvel at his chiselled features that glisten with sweat on his skin. The long strands of his hair look damp, but you yearn to run your fingers through them.

“Y-Yes!” You gasp out as he thrusts again, and this deep, you can feel the tip hitting your cervix.

“What else?” He murmurs, his hand traversing your body until it finds the back of your bra before he unclips it expertly. With your assistance, he pulls the bra away from you and tosses it elsewhere.

You lose focus at the moment he leans forward to latch his hot mouth on your perky nipple, licking and sucking it with a hum that sends vibration through your body. His strong arm is encasing your waist to hold you in place, pulling you impossibly closer to his body while he continues to thrust up into you, and the other hand goes to fondle your other boob that is in need of attention.

With his administration on your boobs, you now realise that you are sensitive to having your boobs and nipples played with, which add fuel to your impending orgasm that is threatening to crash down at any moment of time.

Hearing no response from you with the exception of breathy moans from your lips, Jake withdraws from your now glistening nipple and smacks your thigh, causing your body to jolt.

“I said, what else? Including your worst confession.” He demands in a soft tone, such a contrast to the way he is bouncing you on his cock while occasionally smacking your thighs. “Tell me while I baptise your thighs till it hurts.” He smirks cockily before leaning down your chest to capture the silver cross in between his teeth.

Your walls tighten around his cock upon seeing how hot he looks, gazing sultry at you with the silver cross remaining in between his teeth and some of his long strands sticking to his forehead, yet you can discern his mischief.

Tears begin to leak from your eyes at how painfully he smacks your thighs, yet you don’t stop fucking yourself deeply on him, allowing his tip to bruise your cervix. “Forgive me, Father, for I have committed a despicable sin,” You manage to utter in between bated breaths and whimpers, and your body jolts again as his palm lands another smack on your now reddened thigh. “A sin that I swore to protect and reserved my chastity for the one marrying me.”

Something snaps inside of Jake as soon as those words leave your mouth. The green infuses the red in him, driving him to grip your buttcheeks tightly before bringing you down with him as his back hits the mattress.

“Jake!” You scream as he thrusts into you with a newfound vigour, bottoming you with your skin slapping his loudly and your boobs pressed against his warm, solid chest.

“Wrong name again, baby.” With one hand remaining gripping your buttcheek, the other makes its ascent to grab a fist of your hair, tugging your head to the back before he leans up to pepper his kisses all over your throat.

You gasp in pain as his teeth bite down on your skin. “Jaeyun! That hurt!”

Jake releases your skin, allowing you to fall your head to the nook of his sticky neck. Your lips continue to emit moans and whimpers as he bottoms out harder, wanting to feel you deeply again.

“Just a little more.” He grits his teeth as his jaw clenches, feeling your walls clamp around him as you come undone for the third time of the night. You slump weakly against him, your breaths labouring.

But Jake doesn’t relent. He continues to piston in and out, his hands gripping your buttcheeks deliciously to bring you down on his dick, before he lands a hard smack on your ass as it echoes throughout his room.

Jake grunts out a moan as he quickly unsheathes his dick from your quivering cunt before familiar white cum sprouts from the tip messily on his bedsheets.

“Jaeyun, wait.” You mumble weakly as you feel him manhandling you into a different position, now finding yourself laying on him with your back against his. He ignores your protest, spreading your thighs wide before grabbing his cock to aim into your spent pussy.

“I told you, lovely,” He rasps beside your ear as he inserts his cock back into you, and your velvety walls welcome him once more despite your pathetic protests. “that I'm gonna fuck you all night."

With his hands gripping your hips, he proceeds to thrust up into you while your jaw goes slacken again. Your hands claw at his forearms, squirming to get away from him despite his strength that outweighs yours.

Your defiance has led him to smack down your trembling thigh, and eventually, you surrender, slumping against him while allowing him to fuck into you as though you’re a sexdoll.

“I’m close.” He whispers beside your ear as he migrates his hand to your cunt and rubs your clit. The other ascends to fondle your boob and tweak your nipple, rolling them between his fingers. The pleasure from both his cock destroying your cunt and his hand assaulting your boob is intensifying. “Cum with me, angel.” He says gently, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

The familiar knot twists in your abdomen before your whole body trembles as you come undone again. He unsheathes his cock from your hole and shoots his cum messily everywhere on your thighs and your outer womanhood.

You remain motionless on top of him with your body trembling from the overstimulation while your breathing is laboured and your lidded eyes are dazed from all the fucking. You hear him breathing heavily, and you feel his heart beating violently against your back. Butterflies flutter around your tummy at the sensation of his touch on your skin as he rubs your inner thighs soothingly.

Everything hurts, and yet, it is the kind of hurt you have grown addicted to and undoubtedly leaves you wanting more.

His fingers grip your chin gently as he turns your head to face him before his lips envelope yours in a kiss that has your toes curling. He kisses you sweetly with fervour, as though he is apologising for being a little rough on you. His hand is rubbing your thigh while the other wraps around your waist protectively.

“You did so well, lovely.” He purrs against your lips before resuming to kiss you ravenously, not having enough of the way you taste. Your heart flutters at his praise. He withdraws from your swollen lips before manhandling you again, and this time, he has you settled beneath him while he hoists one of your legs over his shoulder.

You watch with a fluttering heart as he presses a gentle kiss on your calf and returns his gaze to your face. “You should wear fishnet tights often. You look really good with them.” His sincerity does something to you, as it also distracts you from the familiar split-feeling of his cock breaching your cunt once more.

“But my thighs are thick. They look ugly on them.” You admit that your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment, but you notice how his eyes darken dangerously again.

“You’re perfect the way you are.” He says softly while his thrusts feel slow and deliberate, as though he is taking his time to savour the velvety walls engulfing him. “Don’t ever change yourself. You,” Thrust! “Are,” Thrust! “Fucking perfect.” Thrust!

Lust clouds your head once more while your breathing gets heavier with each passing second, but you feel the exertion of his previous fucks into you dawning on your body.

“Eyes on me.” He orders sternly, and with a weak moan at the way he drags his cock deliciously along your walls, you do. A smirk touches his lips before he snaps his hips against yours painfully. “Good fucking girl. My sweet angel, all for me to fuck and ruin.”

Your eyes roll to the back with your neck bare for his eyes to feast on before he leans down to kiss your neck sensually, licking your skin and leaving marks in his wake.

With your head turned sideways as he continues to fuck into you harder and assaults your neck with his kisses, something captures your attention that causes your eyes to widen. Thanks to the moonlight streaming into his window, you manage to catch a glimpse of a familiar red mask on his table.

The very same mask belongs to one of your predators on Devil’s Night.

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When the next day arrives, you remain in the state of your deep slumber, completely spent from last night, as your body aches tremendously and your thighs are sore from being smacked relentlessly.

You stir lightly in your sleep with your face contorting into confusion, but there is a jolting pleasure from your lower region. Your eyes remain closed behind your heavy eyelids, and as a soft moan leaves your lips, your hips automatically buck up, wanting to feel the delirious sensation of a wet muscle flickering your aching clit.

The last thing you remember is you coming undone for the ninth time and Jake carrying your half-conscious body into the bathroom after giving you the best fuck of your life that you will probably remember for the next few weeks.

You flutter your eyelids open, and the familiar sight of his white-painted ceiling greets you. With your naked form displayed on his bed, your nipples harden from the cold air conditioner and from the way a certain someone is lapping your slick cunt from below.

“Jaeyun.” You moan breathily, grinding your hips as he delves into your cunt before pulling back to spit on your clit and catching it with his tongue. Your hands fondle your boobs while you spread your legs widely for him, which has him humming as he suckles your clit.

He resumes lapping your slick cunt as though he is a hungry caveman, and you come sooner than you like, but your eyes widen in shock as he is unrelenting. His chin sheens with your essence, and by now, he is practically drooling all over your cunt.

The sight itself should feel disgusting to you, but you find yourself being enthralled by how hot he looks with half of his face sheens with your cum as soon as he pulls away.

His dark eyes meet yours as they swirl with lust and desire for you, and a smirk smears across his slightly swollen and moist lips. “Good afternoon, sweet angel.”

You marvel at the handsome sight of him in a black-fitting tee that accentuates the muscles on his body and the chain necklace hooked around his neck while his long, dishevelled strands hover over his forehead.

You don't mind waking up to this mouth-watering sight every day.

Before you can open your mouth with the intention to speak about him being one of your predators on Devil's Night, he silences you with his lips, locking yours in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.

Your fingers find their way to tangle and tug at his soft strands, and your heart flutters as he chuckles breathily against your lips at how needy you are chasing him with his lips as though you are famished.

The sound of his ringtone shatters the heated moment between the two of you, causing him to groan against your lips. Without pulling away from the kiss, his hand reaches out to grab his phone at the side, and his finger presses on the accept button.

He pulls away from your lips just slightly to shift his attention on his phone and presses on speaker mode. “Fuck off, I’m busy.” Jake says to the caller on the line in a pissed-off tone, startling you by his change in demeanour.

“Okay, I see. This is how you repay us for cleaning up your mess.” Jungwon’s sarcasm is discernible.

“What do you want?” Jake asks him gruffly as he tilts your chin to face him once more for him to resume kissing you. You whimper as he playfully nips at your bottom lip before probing his tongue into your mouth while his hand is tweaking and pinching your nipple.

“Jaeyun.” You whisper his name against his lips, wanting to warn him about the obscene sound of your lips smacking against each other’s lips. It is noticeable for Jungwon to realise the reason why Jake is occupied.

But Jake doesn’t give a fuck. He continues to kiss you sloppily before trailing his kisses down to your chest, his hand fondling the plumpness of your boob while the other nipple is occupied with his lips and tongue licking and flickering the bud.

“Listen, I don’t really give a damn about what you and the others want to do, but try to be subtle. I’d hate for Wonyoung to complain and whine at me. Just for your information, she cares greatly for Y/N.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of your best friend and your name, but the curiosity that sparks earlier diminishes when Jake presses his clothed groin against your pussy before he slowly grinds on it.

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off. I’m very busy.” Jake dismisses Jungwon with a scowl, but as his eyes return to your dazed ones, he smirks down at you before grinding deliberately again, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“Seriously?” You hear the annoyance in Jungwon’s voice before the line goes off, allowing Jake to finally focus on you.

“You’re making me very hard, angel.” Jake groans, loving how your cunt is already leaking with the essence just by him grinding. “No one has ever made me hard the way you do, lovely.”

“I’m still sore, Jaeyun.” You mutter weakly, your lips forming into a small pout that entices him to kiss you, and he does.

"Mmhmm, I bet you are, baby.” He rasps against your lips, his tongue grazing across your bottom lip, while your fingers make their ascent to fiddle with his chain necklace hanging above your chest. “Want me to fuck you again?”

“N-No.” The hesitation in your shaky voice deepens his smirk.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you good?” He tugs and removes his black tee before tossing it aside. Your eyes feast greedily on his fine glory again, and this time, your fingers graze across his abdominal muscles to feel him while he watches you endearingly.

“I’m exhausted, Jaeyun.” You deliver another lie that contradicts your leaking cunt, which is in desperate need of being stuffed full by his cock.

“I’ll do all the work, baby.” Removing his last garment, his heavy cock slaps down on your wet folds, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. He leans to kiss you once more before murmuring sweetly as he slowly thrust into you, “Just lie down and take it like the good girl you are, sweet angel.”

Least to say that you have a hard time walking with your sore thighs aching tremendously by the time he’s done with you.

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After Jake had dropped you off at your dorm, the time struck nine p.m. Fortunately, you have no classes today or tomorrow, so you can take advantage of that to get ample rest.

Apparently, the two of you got caught up in the intense heat. You lost count of the amount of orgasm he managed to bring out of you. Jake fucked you on his bed, in the shower, and even in the kitchen, where you were searching for something to eat, but your hunger was forgotten the moment he seduced you with his dark allure and fucked you from behind.

Even after he had destroyed your pussy, each time he inserted his dick into you, your walls never failed to feel tight around him, as though they were too attached and never wanted to let go of him.

While waiting for the elevator to open, you look at your phone screen, where the camera shows your face. Your eyes widen in disbelief at the noticeable lines of hickeys on one side of your neck. Fresh, purple, and red hickeys.

Your cheeks flush in pink at the realisation that your first crush had stolen your virginity as you tuck your phone in the pocket of your pleated skirt.

Soon, a certain ambience of melancholy envelopes you. Despite him giving you the best fuck of your life, you can’t erase the image of him killing Simon with no remorse or whatsoever and their lifeless bodies in pools of blood. It was as though Jake had done this before with how he killed your bullies impeccably.

A part of you so badly wants to feel some form of sympathy, but instead, you feel like a weight is lifted off your shoulder, relieved by the fact that your three bullies won’t be bothering you ever again. You know that killing is a heinous act and sinful, but you can’t deny the fact that there is a tinge of gratitude in you for Jake.

You release a deep sigh before stepping out of the elevator to head in the direction of your dorm, and subsequently, you feel dreadful about facing your best friends, but you know you can’t hide from them forever.

Speaking of friends, your eyes widen in realisation as you have yet to reply to Winter. You whip out your phone again.

Y/N: Come over tomorrow, and then I’ll tell you.

Just as you shove your phone into your pocket, you stop in front of the door before mustering courage and proceeding to enter with tense shoulders. When you venture further, the sight that beholds you causes your eyebrow to raise.

Wonyoung has her head resting on Jungwon’s thigh, her gaze is trained on the animated television. Jungwon is leaning against the couch comfortably, his hand is occupied with his phone while the other is absentmindedly running his fingers through her soft locks, but his face is tinged with apparent boredom. Neither of them seem to realise your presence by the living, and you grasp the opportunity to stealthily trace your way to your bedroom.

You have been holding back a scoff since the moment you saw them all so comfortable with each other. You can’t help but feel the slightest resentment towards Wonyoung, who has always been adamantly insistent on refusing to affiliate herself with any of the knights.

As soon as you enter your room and close the door quietly, you proceed to take a quick shower, scrubbing every inch of your body. No matter how many scrubs you do, you swear you can feel the heat of his touch on your skin that remains lingering, even after you step out of the shower, all fresh and anew.

Feeling the exertion once more, you waste no time bringing yourself to your inviting bed that you have missed dearly before throwing yourself on the mattress, your face planting down on your pillow.

Just when you are about to snuggle into your fleecy pillow, a knock startles you. Whoever is at the door surely must have seen the lights beneath the space of your door.

“I know you’re in there, Y/N.” Wonyoung’s voice elicits a groan from you. “I’m coming in.”

You silently berate yourself for not locking the door earlier. As she pushes open the door, you turn away from her, attempting to hide your hickeys from her sight.

You hear the frustration in her sigh. “We really need to talk.”

“Has Jungwon left yet?” You ask curtly, your back is facing her as you fiddle with your soft toy. “What was he even doing here anyway? He’s your boyfriend or something?”

There are a couple beats of silence from her before she speaks in a wavering tone. “None of your business. We’re not here to talk about him. We’re here to talk about your disappearance since last night. Where were you?”

You scoff lightly as you stop your fingers from fiddling with your soft toy. “None of your business.” You use her words against her.

“Can you look at me when I’m speaking to you?” Though it is meant to be a question, the way she asks feels demanding, bringing a frown to your lips.

“Can you get out of my room?”

“For God’s sake, Y/N Kang─” Wonyoung stops mid-sentence at the moment you finally turn around to display your annoyance for her. Her sharp gaze immediately spots the lines of hickeys decorating your dainty neck. “What the hell, Y/N?”

Your eyes narrow at the near judgement in her tone. “I’m really tired, Wonyoung. We can talk some other time─”

“Who did you sleep with?” Wonyoung cuts you sharply, causing you to flinch lightly with her tone. “Who the hell did you sleep with last night, Y/N Kang? Was it one of the knights?”

It is as though there is a switch in your behaviour as you begin to lash out at her. “Fine, you really want to know? I slept with Sim Jaeyun.” Your declaration earns a shocking gasp from her, and it appears the volume of your voice attracts your other roommates’ attention as they emerge from behind Wonyoung.

“Our Y/N did what now?” Karina asks, her eyes bulging as she peeks her head over Wonyoung’s shoulder to stare at you.

“You’re bluffing.” Yunjin scoffs in disbelief, refusing to believe that you, a literal saint, have slept with one of the knights’ leaders.

“Believe what you want, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I still slept with him.”

“And you’re proud of that?” Wonyoung gives you an incredulous glare. “Y/N, we’ve told you countless times to stay away from any of them! Especially their leaders! What even spurred you to sleep with Jake Sim?!”

“Does it ever occur to you that I have needs just as the rest of you do?” You say tersely, hating the visible judgement in their eyes. “Don’t be a hypocrite when you girls are affiliating yourself with the same bunch of delinquents that you have been warning me to stay away from.”

“That’s because you’re different!” Wonyoung retorts harshly. “Because you’re not─”

“I’m not like you girls, is that what you were about to say?” You release a derisive laugh that sounds foreign to your ears. You clench a fist. “Was that why you girls befriended me in the first place? Because you pitied me and took me in so others could have some laughs and belittle me for becoming part of your cliques when I didn’t even seem fitting in to them.”

“You’ve misunderstood, Y/N.” Yunjin steps forward, and her once serious gaze softens. “We didn’t want you to become fucked up like us.”

“You can’t fool me.” You shake your head. “If anything, you girls seem perfectly fine.”

“You’re wrong. We’ve been keeping that side of us from you because we didn’t want for you to be affected and drained.” Karina offers you a weak smile. “It’s also the reason why I broke up with him — because he’s a knight. But despite breaking up with him two years ago, it resulted in me becoming mentally unstable.”

“Once you’re deeply involved with any of them, there is no way out.” Yunjin tells you, her tone sounds as grave as Karina’s. A bitter chuckle leaves her lips. “Look at me. I’m still pathetically clinging to the hope that Yeonjun will reciprocate my feelings.”

Your frown deepens, and at the same time, your mind clicks upon finally realising who Yunjin had fucked with on Devil’s Night. “You and Yeonjun were together this whole time?”

Yunjin smiles weakly. “It’s complicated because I’m not even certain of what to label us. Friends with benefits, situationship or whatever But the main thing is that being deeply involved with any of them will take a huge toll on your mental health.”

“Jungwon and I are not in a relationship.” Wonyoung finds herself confessing after contemplating for a few minutes. “In a way, my situation is similar to Yunjin. It’s a constant push and pull. Some days he seems to want me, while other days he acts like he hates me as if I’m a parasite.”

You bask in silence as you allow their words to soak into your muddling mind. To finally know of your best friends’ being affiliated with the knights has you resenting them a little for keeping you in the dark, because Karina doesn’t seem surprised at all upon their revelation. You begin to ponder if your other friends know about this or if they themselves are involved with the knights as well.

Maybe because you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to bury yourself into the pillow, but you really want to get this over with. You sigh. “Then why didn’t you girls just leave? If they don’t want you, shouldn’t that make things easier for you to leave them since they have also given you reasons why you deserve better?” You ask gently upon noticing the vulnerability shining in Yunjin and Wonyoung’s eyes.

“Like Yunjin said, it’s complicated, but at the end of the day, I know that I’m madly in love with him.” Wonyoung gives you a tight smile. “You’ll probably understand it sooner since you’ve begun becoming close to Jake.”

“We really didn’t want this for you and for you to end up like us, but you have free will, so we’re no longer going to decide things for you.” Yunjin says firmly before retreating to her room.

“It may get addictive at first, but trust me when I say you’ll be regretting it.” Wonyoung warns you. “Once things get badly fucked up, I’m not going to be there to comfort you since you should’ve known better.”

With Wonyoung’s one last look into your eyes, your heart slowly breaks into pieces as you can feel the last few strings that are holding your friendship together threaten to snap, and you know that things between you and Wonyoung will never be the same.

“Just a word of advice to be wary of Jake if you have plans on pursuing him.” Karina’s voice draws your attention to her, and you find her leaning sideways against the door with her arms folded across her chest. “I’ve heard some nasty things about him, but the worst of all is that he has a tendency to love-bomb girls.”

Before you can even ask for her to elaborate, Karina proceeds to head to her room, leaving you alone with your muddled mind. A part of you refuses to believe that Jake Sim is not as bad as your best friends described him. You have an inkling of what love-bombing is since Winter and Liz have talked about it.

In denial, you grab your phone to send him a text, still motivated and refusing to believe your best friends.

Y/N: Hey, Jaeyun. Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

JAEYUN: I’m surprised you texted me first. Already missing me, lovely? :)

Y/N: If I say I do?

JAEYUN: Don’t tempt me into coming over to your place, lovely, because I'm this close. To answer your question, I’ll be hanging out with the guys, so I’ll see you around campus on Thursday.

As you and Jake continue the conversation, giggles occasionally emit from you, making you feel giddy just by texting him alone and him flirting with you through the text. Your best friends are wrong about him. Even you can tell how eager and attentive he is through his texts alone.

WINTER: I have some tea to spill.

Y/N: What is it? I’m missing out on a good joke made by Jaeyun.

WINTER:.....girl, as much as I would love to ship the two of you (because, trust me, y’all look so good with each other), Jake is actually an asshole. I’ll explain whenever we meet since I can't come to meet you tomorrow.

Your curiosity just grows tenfold, and you need to learn more about why she claimed that Jake is an asshole. The same Jake Sim, whose eyes are filled with kindness whenever he stares into yours, whose cheeky grin adorns his charming countenance that never fails to make your heart go fluttery.

Your attention is pulled by another text from Winter.

WINTER: You know what? I’m just going to tell you half of the tea here instead. I collected some information from two girls he slept with before. They warned about getting close to him, especially after fucking him, because he’d only lead you on, and once you fell for his trap, that’s when he’d completely ghost you. Essentially, love bombing you.

Y/N: I don’t get it. Karina told me the same thing, but you girls don’t know him like I do.

WINTER: Babe, you’ve just met him and got closer not too long ago. You should leave him before he leaves you instead. Do you know that word has it: he is clinically diagnosed with borderline personality disorder? It makes perfect sense why he is the way he is.

Y/N: I don’t care what you all have to say, but I’m not gonna leave him.

You release an angry huff as you shut your phone before deciding to lie down on the bed. You hate how they all seem so adamantly insistent on trying to get you to leave Jake.

There is no denying that you are already emotionally attached to Sim Jaeyun, so you couldn’t help but defend him, but what struck you deeply was his kindness during your very first meeting with him. You recall his kind gaze and mirthful grin on his countenance when you first conversed with each other, and the sincerity in his tone when he wished you the best throughout your time in Crestview Meadows.

No, the Sim Jaeyun you know is not an asshole.

The familiar ringtone of your phone disrupts your train of thought. You lazily reach out to grab your phone, and when you see the ID caller on the screen, the frown on your lips transitions into a smile before you keenly accept his call and press your phone against your ear.

“Hey, I was wondering if you were okay.” Jake’s husky voice through your phone alone manages to send the familiar flutters to your heart. “You didn’t reply to my last text.”

“I’m fine, Jaeyun.” You tell him, your voice coming out soft. “I’m just tired. By the way, I forgot to thank you for the aftercare.”

“Anytime, Y/N. Besides, there is no way I would leave my girl just like that.” His breathy chuckles cause your smile to widen.

“Your girl?” You ask, playfulness tinges your voice.

Jake hums attractively. “That’s right. You’re my girl, Y/N.” You detect something dark and dangerous that belies his tone. “Get more sleep, yeah? I don’t want my girl to wake up completely lethargic tomorrow.”

“Okay, Jaeyun.” Little do you know that your obedience draws a wicked smirk on his lips.

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Two days have passed since you ever had a proper conversation with your other three roommates, but it was mostly you avoiding them. As for Winter, she remains the same, but the judgement in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you when you hung out with her yesterday with Rei, Kazuha, and Giselle.

You have been ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind telling you that it isn’t worth it to strain your friendship with them for a man.

They were wrong about Jake. Even when the next day arrived, he never failed to greet you through his texts and occasionally flirted with you, but you could see that he wanted to continue the conversation with you.

But the odd thing is, he hasn’t been replying to your texts since this morning. You tried calling him once, but it went into voicemail. All the while, your stomach churns with uneasiness.

Now you’re in quite a dilemma. What is your relationship with him? Are you his friends with benefits? Does he see you the way you see him? Does he want you the way you want him to?

Hence, you decide to put an end to all of these questions jumbling your mind by going on a little adventure to find Jake in the science, technological, and engineering building. Your keen eyes dart everywhere, looking for a certain male with long hair strands that you wish to skim your fingers through again.

Annoyance bubbles within you before you decide to muster courage and ask a familiar knight member strolling in your vicinity.

“Have you seen Jake?” You ask him, and your question has him raising his eyebrow.

His eyes scrutinise you for a minute. “He’s in our main quarter.” To your surprise, he nudges his head, beckoning you to follow him, and you do.

The way to the devil’s knights’ main quarter is confusing, but thankfully, it doesn’t take you more than fifteen minutes to reach.

“You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon aren’t inside, or you’ll probably get kicked out by them.” He murmurs to you before opening the door for you.

You cast him a kind smile that caught him off guard. “Thanks, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu blinks his eyes, faltering at the sight of your smile. “Uhh, you’re welcome?”

You look away from him and proceed to enter. Your jaw goes unhinged at how palatial their main quarter is, and it even consists of two floors. You spot a few knight members on the second floor, and your presence draws their attention to you, but your gaze is fixed intently on a certain someone who is capable of making your heart all fluttery.

But this time, your heart has a discernible crack. There is Jake, seated on the couch and in a heated lip-lock with a girl you don’t recognise. His hands are roaming around her body, reminding you of when he touched you like that. The sound of their lips smacking against each other seems to break your heart piece by piece.

“Y/N, did you find him?” Beomgyu’s voice can be heard from behind, but you are too busy reeling in heartbreak.

It appears that the volume of Beomgyu’s voice manages to reach Jake's ears as the latter pulls away from the kiss, and when his eyes lock with yours at the instant, your heart breaks even more at the lust glinting in his eyes that is meant for the girl in his possession.

“Jaeyun.” You utter his name numbly, and naturally, you expect him to panic and rush over to you to explain, but instead, a cold smirk is drawn on his swollen pink lips.

“What is she doing here, babe?” The girl on his lap glares at you, her lips curling into a sneer as she scans you from head to toe. The distaste is apparent in her gaze.

“How could you?” You manage to find your voice, but it comes out shaky as you refrain from getting emotional.

“How could I what?” His voice holds zero affection for you, and as you stare at him with glistening eyes, he looks entirely different from the Jake you know. His smirk persists while his eyes are filled with an unfamiliar coldness.

You hate how he is staring at you indifferently. It's like he's a stranger.

“I thought I meant something to you.” You say, and a painful lump is stuck in your throat. “I thought we had something─”

“Don’t be delusional, Y/N. Just because we fucked, you thought you meant something to me?” Jake’s cold chuckles sound foreign to you. He continues to gaze at you dangerously cold while his hand is stroking the girl’s waist, causing your tears to finally leak from your eyes. “You’re nothing special, Y/N. Besides, you’re not even close to being my type.”

“What is wrong with you?” You step forward as you clench a fist. “You’re not like this. You’re acting like a complete jerk now.”

Something dark and twisted lurks behind his eyes that you once loved to gaze at. “I told you before that you have no idea who I really am. Now get out and don’t forget to close the door, yeah?”

“Screw you.” You don’t even have time to be surprised by the hatred in your tone as you immediately dash out of their quarter, ignoring Beomgyu’s calling for you.

A sob is threatening to escape from you as more tears stream down your cheeks. The knights in your vicinity shoot you odd looks, but you are too distraught by your newfound heartbreak.

You thought you had something with him, especially when the two of you spent all night talking, texting, and flirting over the phone. You thought you were his girl.

You should have known that, at the end of the day, his playboy tendencies persist and that he will always be a womaniser. You should have listened to your best friends who did warn you, but just like Jake said earlier, you’re delusional.

Amidst the sadness, you wallow in self-hatred. Hatred for falling into his schemes and for allowing him to take away your virginity.

Your shoulder accidentally bumps into a figure, and just as you are about to walk past him, he grabs your arm firmly, prompting you to turn your head to look at him through your tearful eyes, your vision blurring with each blink.

“What are you doing here by our quarter?” Sunghoon’s cold voice doesn’t even deter you, as does the clear distaste in his expression towards you. But the moment he sees your eyes red and slightly swollen from the crying, something stirs within him that feels foreign. It almost feels like he feels sympathetic for you.

“What happened?” He finds himself asking this, and he has no idea why. His grip on your arm becomes tight.

“Don’t act like you care.” You sniffle, refraining from ugly sobbing in front of the very person who hates your guts. Once his grip feels loose, you yank your arm from his grasp and flee the knights’ territory, leaving Sunghoon curious about what happened to you.

As for you, your guilty conscience is gnawing at you to seek forgiveness once more, and when the next day arrives, you find yourself entering the familiar church with bloodshot eyes, an obvious sign that you had been crying all night.

Your best friends were right. The Sim Jaeyun you know now is, in fact, an asshole.

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