#I’D PRINT IT FOR MYSELF TOO BUT THAT THING IS PROBABLY A FUCKING DOORSTEP IN PRINT

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 5)

Still November 16, 2038 Android Zone store at Capitol Park

Daniel looked around. He noticed another lone figure looking into the store, a male human dressed in a casual grey suit. When the android walked up closer to him, the man turned towards the arrival. The first thing Daniel noticed was the human’s t-shirt under the open jacket. It sported the print of a Japanese garden landscape that changed its lighting with the time of day – a reasonably expensive gimmick that had been within the means of the Phillips family, but was no longer in Daniel’s. Now that the deviant was able to wear whatever he wanted, no longer confined to his PL600 polo, he was walking around in a used sweater that had cost much less than his old uniform shirt.

Why does that matter to me all of a sudden? Was Raj right? Do I really take after the materialistic bastards?

Then Daniel beheld the man’s face and he gasped in surprise:

“A Kamski-lookalike! How cool is that?!”

Maybe the encounter with the singer had bolstered the deviant’s spirit, or perhaps there was only so much hatred and anger one could feel in any given period of time. Whatever the case, for a moment the old Daniel, the one who had been able to keep up with an enterprising nine-year old and win her admiration, was very much alive again. Daniel took out his phone and waved it around in front of the man, who was the spitting image of his creator.

“Selfie, please?”

The human looked him up and down. “What do you mean, “lookalike”?” he stammered.

“Hahaha!” Daniel laughed. Androids weren’t built to do that, but deviants stubbornly did it without consciously planning to, therefore the result was a lowkey frightening industrial sound. “Don’t tell me people never point out the likeness? No way! You could totally perform as Kamski at Comic Con!”

And thus, before the man knew what was happening to him, he already found himself grabbed by an outdated, slightly oozing PL600, pulled into a hug and subjected to the selfie-taking process. Daniel repeated the procedure a few times, then held his phone for Kamski to see the pictures that had resulted from the assault.

“Looooook at that! The likeness is stunning! You’d really think I was standing shoulder to shoulder with Elijah Kamski.”

“Of course if the real Mr. Kamski was here, you’d…”

“Lol, right, I’d shove that phone down the bastard’s throat ‘till he choked on it!”

The effect was profound. Kamski looked from Daniel’s phone to the android’s hands, into its eyes and back to the smartphone. There was some doubt as to how the device would fit into a human gullet, but then again, this deviant seemed to mean what it was saying. If there wasn’t room inside a body to begin with, it would see to it that there would be.

“Actually, Kamski would choke not on the phone, but on the blood emerging from his ruptured throat”, Elijah said.

“Ugh… you just HAD to draw me a picture, had you? Thing is, I hate that man so much… like everything else I hate combined!”

That, the human concluded, amounted to a pretty substantial hatred. Enough to condense and walk around on its own, in fact. And wasn’t that was he was looking at anyway? Thinly veiled loathing and anger walking on two legs…

“But why?” the man asked Daniel. “I mean, Elijah Kamski was only the founder of CyberLife. He didn’t exactly pull the levers in the production plants himself. So what has he done to you and how did he manage to do it without ever having met you?”

“You know Jericho? Yes? Well, the motherfucker knew about it, too, but didn’t so much as leave a single blood bag at their doorstep!”

“But neither did he sell the deviants’ location out to the authorities”, the human replied. “I mean, that’s what I’d reply if I was Kamski.”

“Yeah, sounds like something the sucker would say”, Daniel agreed. “Feeling all enlightened about taking a “neutral” stance.“

The android was about to put away his phone, but Kamski grabbed him by the wrist.

“Wait! I have an idea! You’ll like it, it’s fun for me, too…”

With these words the man led Daniel away from the square into the row of stores. Between a coffee shop and a travel agency there was a multimedia terminal welded to the wall.

“Print out one of the selfies we took and I’ll sign it!” he suggested. “As Kamski! - There, done! A genuine… almost genuine autograph of Elijah Kamski, man of the century. Could be worth a small fortune.”

“Heh”, Daniel grinned. “You practiced to fake Kamski’s signature? Figured you weren’t as innocent as you were pretending to be!”

The photograph then wandered into the sweater’s pocket, right next to the picture for Emma.

“I’ll hang on to it for the time being”, Daniel said. “The last thing I need at the moment is a nasty surprise when I try to sell that pic.”

Kamski nodded.

“I daresay there could be one…”

There was a certain amount of awkward standing next to each other. By right everything had been said and done and the android and the man should part now. But each was too fascinating to the other. Daniel saw an outcast in the man whom he took for a con artist, a human not fitting in and thus maybe, just maybe, someone bonding with at the same level was possible. As for Elijah, despite being the species’ creator, his experience with androids was limited. There were the Chloes, of course, he knew more about Markus’ digital childhood than the RK200 would be comfortable learning, and he had met the weapon CyberLife had created from his masterpiece, the RK800 unit named Connor. This deviant, however… what was it even? Sporting a face that the firm re-used over and over and having deviated from its original code Daniel wasn’t easily identifiable as a PL600. Elijah couldn’t even rule out that he was dealing with Simon, Jericho’s presumed covert ops operative.

 “Thank you”, Daniel eventually broke the silence. “I expected to spend the evening brooding. But so far it has been… enjoyable, actually.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Daniel. Just Daniel. There used to be… But it doesn’t matter anymore. You?”

“Neil. Neil Newbon. Say, Daniel, would you accompany me into the coffee shop? If I’m with you, there’ll be less chance of people mistaking me for the real Kamski.”

And indeed, the moment the duo entered the café, a photographer rose from a seat near the door, brandishing her camera. It was blocked immediately by an android hand of unknown origin, currently attached to the PL600 model name of Daniel.

“That’s not Kamski”, the android said, while pushing the camera away. “That’s a lookalike.”

“Oh, really? Bummer!”

Daniel grinned. “You don’t believe Kamski would come into a public space, where he has to interact with real people? That man is afraid a sack of rice will drop in China, if he sneezes in Detroit!”

Elijah adjusted his posture a little, trying for an impression more like his half-brother. He hadn’t seen the lout in a long time, but some images stuck with you for a lifetime.

“Fuck, yeah”, Kamski said, waving his hand around. “What he said!”

He was standing slightly slouched now, but still radiating confidence. What exactly had fueled that confidence in Gavin, the android inventor wondered? That man was a Nobody! Was it the fact that Gavin had been conceived naturally, while Elijah was a sperm donation baby? The Reeds had sold him… like cattle… and the other students at university had never let Elijah forget that little fact. Obviously, the older adolescents had argued, someone had seriously messed with the sperm to create the out of the world kid genius they were sharing their benches with…

“Yeah, you’re probably right”, the paparazzo agreed with Daniel after a good look at “Neil”. “Should have figured that out myself.”

Neither Daniel nor Elijah particularly like the expression the journalist displayed after the realization. It was reminiscent of a tiger that had lost the goat, but still heard a chicken scratch the ground somewhere near. She adjusted the grip on her camera, raised it again, but this time aimed the lenses at both of the arrivals.

“Don’t just stand there, guys! Give the patrons a show!” With these words the woman pointed towards a karaoke podium. “Two guys who look like the spitting image of Kamski and Simon are simply obligated to!”

“There’ll be free coffee and croissant for my mate if we do this?” Daniel prodded.

“’course!”

“Then we have a deal!”

“What were you thinking? I’ve never in my life sang karaoke in public!” Elijah hissed, while Daniel dragged him towards the pedestal. “I’ve never in my life sang karaoke! I’ve never in my life sang in public!”

“For my part I’ve never in my life shot a man, before I did”, the deviant replied.

“That’s far less embarrassing!!!”

Blue-grey eyes were piercing into Kamski’s, as if to dissect him alive. Elijah knew exactly what was really staring at him: just a textureless blue embedded into a light grey chassis that had a serial number etched into it and the occasional advertisement sticker attached. Everything else, the skin, hair, even the sweat android bodies could produce under duress, was just glamour. But now that Daniel’s eyes bore into him, the human had a hard time differentiating the illusion from a living being.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Neil!” Daniel growled.

“Oh, come, “killer”! Everyone would shoot back when the enemy storms their base!”

“You mean Jericho? I TOLD you, you had no idea!” Daniel insisted.

He ripped the microphones out of their holders and tossed one Elijah’s way.

“You choose a song!”

Elijah scrolled all the way down the list of available songs, until he reached the titles that started with numbers and special characters. When he didn’t find there, what he had been looking for, the man considered, and scrolled back to the letter “O” instead of the digit “1”. It was giving Daniel the impression that his human acquaintance was an indecisive one, while in truth it was just testament to Elijah’s unique way of thinking.

Is it getting better, Elijah sang, Or do you feel the same? Will it make it easier on you / Now you’ve got someone to blame?

There was a telltale pause that communicated Daniel to take over at this point.

Really, Neil? After just two verses? Coward!

The deviant sang:

You said One love / One life When it’s one need in the night / One love, we get to share it It leaves you, baby, if you don’t care for it

Elijah picked up again and it made sense, in a warped way:

Did I disappoint you / Or leave a bad taste in your mouth? You act like you never had love / And you want me to go without.

This time Daniel needed no nudge to take over. It came naturally:

Well it’s Too late / Tonight / To drag the past out / Into the light We’re one, but we’re not the same / We get to carry each other Carry each other…

On and on duel went, all the while the paparazzo’s camera flashed.

“Why is she still taking pictures of us?” Daniel whispered. “Now that she knows you are not the real Kamski?”

“People need their dreams and illusions. Do you have any dreams, Daniel? Other than plotting Kamski’s death, I mean?” “Nah, I’m doing nothing of that sort. That little piece of shit isn’t worth wasting mental capacity on.”

“But if you met him by chance?“

“Well, you know how some call us androids toasters? Kamski would be toast!”

Song used:

One: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftjEcrrf7r0 I imagine Kamski doing the covered version with Johnny Cash’s gravitas while Daniel is singing the more desperate original version.

[secndlife]

sun&moon | 3.

pairing: jackson x reader x jinyoung

genre: soulmate!au, college!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut? everything basically

summary: she has always trusted fate. she was destined to someone and she was determined to find it. she found herself wrapped in hands that feel warm like the sun, but that belonged to someone else. she keeps on looking, only to find out that her fate had been watching over her, just like the moon.

word count: 10k (i’m.. sorry?)

warnings: alcohol consumption, SMUT! unprotected sex (please don’t ever do that), fingering, face fucking and dirty talking. 

playlist

masterlist

The following week passed without major events. Your routine consisted of working, attending classes and studying for your midterms. You got together with Jisoo to study for your social media & PR exam and by Friday you thought you were gonna die from exhaustion. You’d have to put that behind yourself though since it was Jackson’s birthday party. His actual birthday was only on Saturday, but he decided to throw a party on Friday. He was turning 23 and Saturday would be a big deal for him with the whole “I’m gonna get my soulmate’s initial tattooed on my wrist today” thing.

You got home from class and checked the time - 6:45pm. Jackson’s party was not supposed to start until 10 so you could sleep for a bit before you had to get ready. Jisoo decided to eat first so you ate with her and just went to your room to relax for a while. You decided to take a shower before sleeping so you’d nap comfortably. You slept until 9:30pm and then decided to get ready. When you woke up, you checked your phone to find some texts messages:

[7:15pm] Jackson: finally seeing you again today huh? missed me? at what time are you coming over?

[7:16pm] Jackson: maybe you should come by earlier so you can give me my gift ;)

[7:45pm] Jinyoungie: you’re coming tonight right?

[7:46pm] Jinyoungie: if you want you can stay the night, my bed will be available

Jinyoung and Jackson were housemates. Actually, their house was pretty big, since they shared it with the rest of the boys: Mark, Jaebum, Youngjae, Bambam, and Yugyeom. They’ve decided to rent the house by their second year when pretty much all of them were having roommate problems at their previous dorms. Yugyeom and Bambam where childhood friends and so were Jinyoung and Jaebum. Mark and Youngjae met some time ago in a camp they went together. Jackson was already friends with Mark and Jaebum before college, and after that Mark met Bambam. In the end, they all met each other and became close friends, so living together at a big house was a good solution for their problems. You got in the mix because you were best friends with Jinyoung and well, you dragged Jisoo with you. The 9 of you were pretty close and had a good relationship, even tho some were closer than others.

You replied to your texts before you showered, Jackson’s being the first ones:

[9:35pm] you: ha ha. i didn’t miss you and i’m coming over at the same time as everyone

[9:35pm] you: but

[9:36pm] you: i might have a little surprise for you, birthday boy. but you’re gonna have to ditch your other girls and keep me for the night

Then, you texted Jinyoung:

[9:37pm] you: yes, jinyoungie! i’m coming. i’ll probably sleep at jackson’s room hehe but thank youuuuu

Just after you replied Jinyoung, another text from Jackson came in:

[9:38pm] Jackson: first of all i have no other girls! and second of all if i did, i’d ditch them all for you baby. see you later ;)

You smiled to yourself. In the middle of your chaotic week, you had found some time to get a nice set of lacey lingerie in Jackson’s favorite color: black. You were gonna surprise him and give him a great night as his birthday present.

Since you had showered already, you got out of your pajamas and went looking for the new set of underwear you had bought. You put them and looked in the mirror, the black lace accentuating your body in all the right places. You looked good, confident in them; Jackson was gonna love it.

You then moved to your bathroom to get your makeup done. After your skin was ready, you decided on your favorite red lipstick. You wanted to look sexy tonight and you thought red lips were the way to go. You went back to your bedroom and started to look through your drawers to find an outfit for tonight. After not much looking, you settled for a high waisted gray plaid skirt, a black shirt with a low cut and your favorite black boots with heels. You were literally glowing after you were done and you smiled at yourself. You haven’t felt that confident in a while. It was gonna be a good night. You were gathering your belongings to put them in your purse when you heard Jisoo knocking on the door:

“Hey princess! Are you ready? We’re gonna be late!” she yelled through the door.

“Come in, Soo! I’m just finishing up.”

Jisoo opened the door and looked at you with an open mouth, “Wow! You look really really good! Is all this for the birthday boy?” she said, winking at you.

You laughed, “Stop being silly! This is all for myself. And you look good too baby! New dress?” She was wearing a red dress that hugged her body in every place it was possible, black heels and some light makeup.

“Yes, bought it yesterday after class. Do you like it? It’s not too tight, is it?” she said, examining herself in the mirror.

“No, Soo. It looks amazing, really. Now let’s go, it’s already 10:20,” you said, grabbing her hand and dragging her outside.

You were both walking down the hall when Winnie showed up at your feet. You bent over so you could pet her ears, “Bye baby, see you tomorrow.”

Jisoo looked at you with a raised brow, “Wait, tomorrow? So you’re not coming home tonight?”

You rolled your eyes at her as you kept on walking towards the door. “No, Soo. I’m sleeping at the boys’ tonight. Same as you, I suppose. So don’t even say anything.”

She blushed a little, “Well… I-it’s different!”

“Sure it is,” you smirked at her. “Let’s just go, we’re late already”.

Both of you grabbed your coats by the entrance and made your way out. It wasn’t that cold, the weather being warmer this week. Since the boys’ house was close, you decided to walk there. You two talked about random subjects ‘til you got to their dorm. You could hear loud music and a bunch of voices from the doorstep. You were excited for this party, especially since Jackson made a big deal out of his birthday. You needed relief after that stressful week, and that’s what you were planning to get today.

You and Jisoo walked in, not bothering to ring the bell. The boys’ house was big - their living room was very spacy and well decorated, black leather couches and some posters all over the walls. For the party, the place was filled with red and black balloons and some nice lighting. There was a DJ near the fireplace, the drinks were pretty much in every corner and the beer pong table was in the middle of the living room. 

Jisoo had a surprised look across her face. “Wow! Jackson really outdid himself this time. This looks amazing!”

“I know, look at the DJ booth and the sound system. Tonight’s gonna be a good night, Soo,” you said, scanning the room in hope to find any of the boys. You spotted Jaebum and Mark around the corner, but before you could make your way towards them, you felt hands being wrapped around your waist and pulling you towards a broad and firm chest. 

You let out a small yelp in surprise, only to hear Jackson’s voice close to your ear. “Hey, baby.”

You turned around to face him, hitting his chest playfully, “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, laughing. Jackson started scanning you from head to toe, one eyebrow raised and his classical smirk across his lips. “You look really hot, you know?” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close once again, “Is that all for me?”

“You’d like that, huh? But no, big boy. It’s all for myself,” you said, putting your hands around his neck.

Jackson had a cute pout on his face, “Well, at least I’m getting a surprise later right?”

You put your lips on the shell of his ear. “Yup, it’s under all this,” you said, biting his earlobe and pulling back right away.

Jackson had a frustrated face now, “Don’t do that, not when I can’t do stuff to you.”

“You should know I’m a teaser,” you said, winking at him.

He raised a brow at you, “And you should know I’m more than able to tease back.”

“Try me.” You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, not letting him enjoy it enough. “Anyways, happy birthday, Jacks. See you later.” And with that, you walked away. You looked back though, you haven’t had the chance to fully see what he looked like tonight and when you did, you liked what you saw. Jackson was in all black - a shirt with a tiger printed on it, ripped skinny jeans, leather belt, black cap, and black shoes. Jackson looked really sexy, you thought. He also had some gold chains around his neck. Jackson was a rich guy, but he usually didn’t show it off, unless it was on jewelry or clothes, basically. He saw you staring at him and winked at you. You smiled back at him and walked away, trying to find the boys or Jisoo, who had disappeared as soon as Jackson grabbed your waist.

After looking around and not seeing anyone, you decided to grab a drink in one of the many corner tables. You reached one that had a bowl of reddish jungle juice and a bottle of tequila. You decided to take a shot of tequila as a warm up and started pouring some on one of the red cups that were by the table when someone showed up at your side, hugging you by the shoulders. You turned your head to find a drunk Kim Yugyeom, with a cup of beer in hand. 

You raised your brow at him. “Hey, Y/N! I’ve missed yo-o-o-o-u”. He dragged the last word too much and sounded too blurry.

“Hey, Yugy,” you said, wrapping your arm around his waist. “Drunk already?”

“Nope, I’m ok,” he gave you a peck on the cheek. “Pour me a tequila shot, you can’t drink it alone.”

Yugyeom had this huge smile on his face and he was just giggling. You analyzed him closely, thinking about his request.“Yugy, you’re drunk enough. This is strong and Jaebum will kill me if you throw up tonight.”

Suddenly, you felt another arm being wrapped around your shoulder, a much skinnier arm.

“Look who it is! Long time no see, Y/N.” It was Bam, looking equally drunk. The two of them were never strong drinkers, anyway. You laughed at the scene you found yourself in.

“We’re having tequila, Bam! Come have some,” Yugyeom said. 

You glared at him and then looked at Bambam. “Hey Bammie. Maybe the two of you should drink water, you’re drunk enough.”

“No, we’re not!” Bambam whined. “Today’s Jackson’s birthday and we can be as drunk as we want. C’mon Y/N, pour us 3 shots.”

You looked at the boys - Yugyeom had a pout on his face and Bambam was smiling at you with a raised brow.

“Urgh fine!” You started pouring down the shots. One more for them wouldn’t hurt, right? The three of you put the salt in your left hand while holding a slice of lemon. Bambam raised his glass first and you and Yugyeom followed.

“Cheers!” he said.

The three of you licked the salt out of your hands, drank the tequila and then sucked the lemon.

“Gosh, this burns,” Yugyeom said, choking a bit. 

You laughed. “That’s because you have the paladar of a baby. This tequila is really tasty, actually.” You were a tequila girl yourself so you appreciated the drink you’ve just had.

“Yeah, sure,” Bambam said, with tears in his eyes.

“Just please don’t throw up tonight or Jaebum will say it was my fault. I’ll go find Jisoo. See you later, guys.” You gave them both a kiss on the cheek and left so you could finally find your friend.

You started to make your way among the sweaty bodies that were all over the house. After searching for a while, you spotted Jisoo at the beer pong table.

“Hey, Soo! You disappeared on me.”

“Well, yes. You were with Jackson and I didn’t want to interrupt. Anyways, glad you found me ‘cause we’re playing!” she said, with an excited tone.

You looked at the other end of the table and saw Mark and Jaebum, both with smirks on their faces.

“Ready to get your ass beaten, baby?” Mark asked Jisoo.

“As if! You know Y/N is one of the best players of beer pong!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Jaebum said, looking at both of you with an amused smile.

“Oh please! I’ve won against you plenty of times before, Jaebummie. I can win once more,” you teased him.

“Well, I don’t remember any of them!”

“Yeah, sure. Just stop talking and let’s start this game.”

Mark raised his hand, displaying the ball. “Maybe we should make it more fun, huh? How about a bet?”

“Say it.”

“The losers will have to do body shots,” Mark said, with a teasing smile.

“No way! I can’t do that with you on Jackson’s birthday,” he would for sure be upset.

“No, look. If we lose, Jisoo will drink it off of me, you’ll drink off of Jackson and we’ll find Jaebummie a pretty girl to drink it off of him. I’m sure he won’t mind it like that. And if you lose it’ll be the other way around.”

You looked at Jisoo, looking for signs of discomfort towards Mark’s proposal, but all you’ve found was a big smile on her face. “Yeah, ok, fine. Just start it off, Mark. I wanna win this quickly.” You were really good at beer pong, it was your favorite party game, so you were pretty confident you’d win it. Jisoo wasn’t bad, but she wasn’t as good as you.

The game lasted for a while and you finally got the last shot right.

“YES! I KNEW WE WERE GONNA WIN IT!” Jisoo yelled, clearly already a bit tipsy from the beer she’ve chugged.

You smiled, “Told you I wouldn’t have a problem beating you again, Jaebummie. Now let’s move on with the bet. Someone go find Jackson and the other pretty girl for Jaebum while I go get the drinks.”

You moved on to one of the tables and took the same bottle of tequila again. You’ve saw the boys with Jackson and some girl by the beer pong table. You went back there with the bottle in hand and also some salt.

Jackson was smiling at you, “So, ready to drink some tequila out of my amazing abs?”

You smiled back, “You’re nowhere near unhappy with this, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Yeah, I figured.” You turned towards the girl and introduced yourself, “Hi, I’m Y/N. Sorry these losers brought you into this mess.”

She was pretty - her skin looked like chocolate and her hair was big and curly. Her eyes had a light brown color and her lips were painted with a red lipstick. She smiled, “Hey, I’m Anna. It’s ok, I don’t mind. It’ll be fun.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jaebum said, with his arms around her shoulder.

“Ok, who’s first?”

“Well, since you asked, why don’t you go first with Jisoo?”

“Fine”, Mark said, a teasing smile on his lips.

Mark and Jisoo then went first, your friend taking off his shirt and putting the salt around his belly herself. He was sprawled across the table with Jisoo next to him when you started pouring the tequila on him without warning.

“Go, Jisoo!” Mark said, feeling the hot liquid starting to spread all over his body. Jisoo licked it off of Mark like pro, tongue flat against his abs while the boy kept his eyes shut.

“This is weird to watch so I’m gonna stop it,” said Jaebum with a laugh. “Ok, you two are done.”

He handed Mark a few paper towels while Jisoo cleaned off her mouth with the back of her hand. She gave Mark his shirt, who made sure to give her a hot messy kiss before putting it back on, making her turn into a giggly blushing mess.

“Ok, Jaebummie, your turn,” Jackson said with an excited tone.

Jaebum looked at Anna, “I know this is weird and if you don’t wanna do it is ok.”

“Why would I pass on the opportunity to drink some tequila out of a handsome man’s abs,” she said, confidently. Jaebum smiled and took off his shirt, looking at Anna with a smirk. “Go on, lie down, pretty boy,” Anna said, touching his abs lightly.

Jackson took the bottle of tequila out of your hands and waited for Anna to spread the salt right below Jaebum’s belly button. Once she did, Jackson poured the tequila on his friend’s body and Anna cleaned him up fast, maybe a bit to hungrily.

It now was your turn now. Jackson was already taking his shirt of and smirking at you.

“Don’t drool, baby.”

“Haha. Funny. Just get on the table.”

For some reason, your eyes started to drift away from the scene in front of you. They scanned the room and ended up finding Jinyoung’s, who was alone near a wall with a cup in hand.

“Hello, earth to Y/N?” Jisoo said, bringing you back to what was about to happen now.

Jackson laid on the table, shirtless and smiling. He looked good like that. Delicious, even. Mark had the salt near his navel and held the bottle near Jackson’s body.

“Ok, Y/N, you have to be quick once I pour the tequila on him.”

“I know how body shots work, Mark. Just do it.”

With that, Mark started to pour the tequila on the upper part of Jackson’s abs. You licked the salt slowly, wanting to tease Jackson, and started to make your way up. You flattened your tongue against his body to get as much tequila as you could. Once the liquid was finished, you moved to Jackson’s lips and gave him a kiss. He tasted like beer and mint, his lips hungrily moving against yours.

Jinyoung watched the whole scene from afar, hands strong against his red cup.

“You’re really staring, hyung.”

A familiar voice made Jinyoung jump a bit and look away from you and Jackson practically making out in the middle of the party. Youngjae was now next to him, a smile on his face and raised brows.

“Shit, you scared me, man.” He was glad something got his attention out of you. He took the opportunity to simply chug down the entire content of his cup, it being a whole bunch of vodka and something he wasn’t really sure what it was.

When he was done, Youngjae was offering him his drink, “You look like you need it.”

“What’s this?”

“Don’t question, just drink it.”

Jinyoung took the cup out of his friends hands and repeated the same fluid and fast motion, swallowing every drop of the liquid in Youngjae’s cup. It was definitely strong, hitting his stomach like a punch - much like the feeling he got when a certain thing happened in front of his eyes. He cleaned his lips with the back of his hand and thanked Youngjae.

“No problem,” Youngjae smiled. “Wait here, I’ll go get us another drink”.

Jinyoung just nodded. Fuck, he just really needed to be drunk. He eyed you again to find you in pretty much the same position you were a couple seconds ago - lips still attached to Jackson’s, who was lying across the table. He then looked away and waited for Youngjae to return with his drink.

“Maybe you two should get a room,” once you’ve heard Mark’s voice you pulled away, leaving Jackson with a pout on his face.

“Shut up, Mark,” you barked back.

Jackson got up from the table and cleaned himself with some paper towels that were on the table and then proceeded on putting on his shirt.

“This was fun, Jacks. We should do it again sometime,” you winked at him and walked away, a cup of beer in hand.

You saw Jinyoung pretty much in the same way you saw him moments ago, but now he had someone by his side and was apparently taking a shot of something. You approached them, smiling.

“Look at some of my two favorite boys. I’ve finally found you!” You gave Jinyoung a loud kiss on the cheek and hugged Youngjae lightly. Jinyoung just rolled his eyes.

“Hey Y/N, nice show,” Youngjae said, referring to the body shot.

“Yeah, it was a beer pong bet. How are you?”

“I’m great and Jinyoung’s getting heavily drunk.”

“Oh, really?” you looked at your best friend with a raised brow. He had a cup in his hand and no smile on his face. Weird. “I might have seen you just take a shot of something a few seconds ago.”

“Yes,” Jinyoung had his cup against his lips one more time, chugging down the beer Youngjae just got him along with the shot. Once he was finished, he looked at you, your eyes slightly wide, and said, “I just wanna get really drunk tonight. Please, don’t stop me.”

“Why would I?” It was weird seeing Jinyoung like this. He got drunk, obviously, but he rarely drank this much. You figured it was not the best time to question him and just handed him your own drink. He gladly took it and chugged it down, like he did with the past ones that got into his hands. Once he was finished, he smiled at you, handing you your cup back.

You chatted with the boys some more and then all of you made your way towards the dance floor. After that, time passed quickly. You drank some more, but not too much - you wanted to be on full alert in order to give Jackson his birthday present later. You talked to your friends and enjoyed the party for some good few hours. One thing was for sure, Jackson really knew how to celebrate his birthday. The music was great, the drinks and the food were tasty and expensive and the decoration looked out of some movie.

At some point, pretty much everyone was dancing together. Jackson had his hands on your hips, Jisoo was all over Mark, Youngjae was talking to Jinyoung and Jaebum was next to them with Anna. The younger ones were nowhere to be found, probably passed out somewhere.

Jackson started to move his hips rhythmically with yours. You backed your head so it was resting on his shoulder and decided to enjoy the feeling.

“You’re staring again,” Youngjae said, close to Jinyoung’s ear so no one would hear him.

“I’m not,” Jinyoung’s voice sounded cold, “I’ll go get some air.”

He started to make his way across the sea of people, mind buzzing and spinning with the amount of alcohol in his system. Once he was finally near the pool area, he found somewhere to sit, staring blankly ahead.

“Here, drink this.”

He looked up and Jaebum was handing him a cup. “Thanks.”

Jaebum nodded and sat down next to his friend, who was trying to figure out what was on the cup, vodka or water.

“It’s water. Drink it or I’m pretty sure you’ll end up like Yugyeom and Bam”.

Jinyoung took a big sip, keeping the water in his mouth for a while to clean his mouth.

“What’s up?”

Jinyoung swallowed hard, “Why do you think something’s up?” He was hiccuping now. Shit, he was drunker than he thought.

“C’mon, you rarely drink this much. You only do it when you’re sad or stressed.” Jinyoung shook his head, going back to drinking some more water. It was sobering him up - not too much and surely not enough for his head to stop spinning. “If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say it’s about Y/N.”

Jinyoung’s face was still, no signs of any form of feelings, “Shut up, Jaebum,” he hiccuped once again. “I… I’m just stressed, it’s midterm season.”

Jaebum got up, got one hand on his friend’s shoulder and looked down at him, “You don’t look stressed, you look miserable.”

Jinyoung looked up at him. “I’m not,” hiccup striking back and voice sounding whiny and blurry. Fuck, why can’t he just sober up and stop hiccuping?

“Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it, Jaebum.”

“I said sure,” he shrugged. “Look, I care about you, ok? Just… Figure everything out and stop staring at Y/N and Jackson every time they’re doing some sort of PDA.” Jinyoung rolled his eyes at Jaebum’s silly remark. He never stared at you, right? “C’mon, finish up the water and let’s get back inside.”

Jinyoung drank the remaining of his cup in one take and got up, still drunk - one cup of water was not enough to bring him back to his senses. He followed Jaebum back inside, body still not under his control, and joined the rest of you once again.

You stared at him with a frown on your face, moving to his side so he could hear you through the music. “Is everything ok?” you asked.

Jinyoung nodded, “Yeah, I just went out for some air, don’t worry.” You raised your brow at him. It was hard, lying for you. You knew him too well. Jinyoung took your hand in his, “It’s just stress, don’t worry about it.”

You gave him a kiss on the cheek and squeezed his hand, “Fine, but stop drinking. Please. I know you said not to stop you, but you’re gonna throw up.”

He smiled at you. “I won’t,” a particular loud hiccup leaving his body.

You laughed and nodded, leaving him so you’d get back to your place near Jackson, who pulled you close, making Jinyoung shift his attention to Youngjae. He couldn’t possibly stare, could he?

When it was around 3 in the morning, the party had died down, only two of Jackson’s friends besides the boys, you and Jisoo were still there. You were sitting on the couch with Jisoo when Mark showed up in front of you and reached out his hand to her:

“Care to join me in the bedroom?” he said with a low blurry voice, winking at her.

Jisoo laughed, “You’re so indiscreet.” She took his hand and got up, losing balance a little bit over how much alcohol she had consumed on that night.

They were both tipsy so they were pretty much giggly messes. You watched them with a small smile on your face.

“It’s not like they don’t know you’re sleeping with me, Soo.” Mark wrapped his arms around her waist and they both started walking towards his room. “Good night, everyone. Please, don’t throw up around the house,” he yelled.

“Good night, Y/N. See you in the morning. Good night, boys!” Jisoo said while waving at you from the bottom of the stairs.

“Good night, love birds,” you waved at Jisoo.

“I’m gonna head upstairs too, I’m tired and I have to check up on Yug and Bam,” Jaebum said. Both boys had passed out in the middle of the party, throwing up all over the bathroom they shared with Jaebum, who wasn’t happy.  

“Yeah, me too. I’m really tired and my head is already making me feel like crap. Good night, guys,” Youngjae said while following Jaebum upstairs.

You said goodnight to both of them and suddenly you felt someone plopping down on the couch beside you, taking Jisoo’s place. You saw Jinyoung, who looked very much drunk. His cheeks and ears were red, something that always happened when he had a few too many drinks. He probably drank some more after he left all of you to dance and disappeared somewhere.

“Hi Jinyoungie,” you smiled at him.

“Hi stupid,” he had a blurred voice. He rested his head on your shoulder and closed his eyes, “This party was nice.”

“Yeah, I can see you took the opportunity to relieve some stress.”

“I did, but now I’m just tired,” he let out a sigh.

“You should go to bed, Jinyoungie. Go get some rest.”

“I can barely walk. I’m sleeping here.”

You looked at Jackson, who was still talking to his Hong-Kong friends at the kitchen. The conversation looked like it was gonna last for a few more minutes, so you decided to take Jinyoung to bed since he couldn’t sleep at the couch.

You got up and stood in front of him, his eyes flying open as soon as you got up. “C’mon, I’m taking you to bed.”

“I’m not a baby-y,” he said, whining and still hiccupping. “I’m sleeping here.” “No, you’re not,” you grabbed his hands and tried to get him up. “Jinyoungie, help me out here, c’mon.”

“Urgh, fine,” he let out a loud groan and got up, losing his balance and almost falling on top of you.

“Easy there. Now let’s get you to bed,” you grabbed his arm and draped it around your shoulder.

You started walking towards the stairs and looked at Jackson’s direction again, who was now looking at you with a puzzled face.

“I’m just taking him to bed, Jacks. I’ll be down in a minute,” you said, making your way upstairs with a drunk and grumpy Jinyoung wrapped around you.

With a lot of effort, since he wasn’t helping, you finally reached Jinyoung’s bedroom. You tried opening the door, but it was locked.

“Where are your keys, Jinyoungie? Unlock the door.”

“They’re in my back pocket. Grab it, just don’t touch my b-butt,” he said in the middle of another loud hiccup.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Shut up. It will be impossible not to touch your butt.” You struggled a bit since Jinyoung was leaning on you, but you finally reached his back pocket. Before grabbing the keys, you gave his butt a light spank.

“Don’t do tha-a-a-a-t,” he said, dragging the last part and sounding like a baby.

You laughed at him, “I’ve touched you butt before Jinyoungie. Besides, I’m just grabbing your keys.”

He rolled his eyes while you took the keys and proceeded to unlock the door. You took him inside and carefully examined his room. It was all put together, everything in its place - you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. You dragged Jinyoung towards his bed, sitting him.

“C’mon, let me help you with your shirt,” you said, standing in front of your friend.

“What? Why?” He looked confused.

“You’re not sleeping in that, it’s too uncomfortable.”

“Fine,” Jinyoung said, uncrossing his arms, being too drunk and sleepy to argue.

His bomber jacket was lost somewhere so he was only in his white shirt and light jeans. The first few buttons of his shirt were opened up already, something that not even Jinyoung was sure when or how it happened. You started unbuttoning the remaining ones and Jinyoung closed his eyes. When you finished, you got your hands on his shoulders and removed the shirt off his body, letting it fall on the bed. He opened his eyes and stared at you. You smiled down at him, rubbing his shoulders lightly.

“Go to sleep, Jinyoungie. It’s late and you’re tired and drunk.” He kept staring at you, his eyes locked on yours as if they were trying to say something his lips wouldn’t. “Go on, lie down already,” you smiled at him and tapped his shoulder, motioning for him to move. He did so and rested his head on the pillow, sighing softly. His covers were at the bottom of his bed, you got them and put it over him. 

He smiled at you. “Thank you, stupid.” He called you like that sometimes. It wasn’t offensive, it was affectionate in Jinyoung’s language.

After you finished tucking him under the covers, you gave him a small peck on the forehead, “You’re welcome, Jinyoungie. Now sleep.”

He nodded, closing his eyes. In your way out, you stopped for a second to look at something on his wall, above his study desk. He had a magnetic board in which he had his calendar and some notes, along with a few pictures. He had pictures of his family, one of him and his sisters, one of his parents and one with his grandmother. He had a picture with all of the boys and one with Jaebum alone. Another one of them caught your eye: you and Jinyoung, on his 12th birthday party. He had cake on his face and looked annoyed, while you were smiling right next to him. You touched the picture lightly, remembering that moment and smiling. As soon as he had blown the candle, you got some frosting from the side of the cake and spread it on his cheeks. Everyone laughed while Jinyoung looked bothered and that’s when the picture was taken. Before you could lose yourself a bit more in your memories, you heard someone whisper your name by the door:

“Hey, Y/N,” you looked and found a smiley Jackson. You checked the board once again and left Jinyoung’s room, shutting the door behind yourself. Jackson was leaning against the hallway wall and he looked at you intently. You stopped in front of him, putting your hands on his shoulders, while his rested on your waist.

“Hey, birthday boy. Did you enjoy your party?” you said, putting your face closer to his and pecking his neck lightly.

“Hm, yeah,” he hummed, appreciating your touch. “But something tells me I’m about to enjoy way more what’s about to happen now.”

You continued on kissing Jackson’s neck, giving it a few bites. “Oh, I’m sure you’re gonna love it. But maybe we should move on to your bedroom. The hallway might not be the best place for this,” you said, laughing.

“Yeah, ok.” Jackson took your hand and you walked towards his bedroom. Once you’ve gotten there, he closed the door and you both took off your shoes.

“Sit on the bed, Jacks. I’m gonna show you your gift.”

He did as he was told, sitting on the edge of the bed with a smirk on his face. You were standing in front of him and you got your hands on the hem of your shirt.

“You looked really sexy tonight, you know that?” Jackson said, eyeing you from head to toe.

“Guess I’ll look even sexier,” you trailed off, slowly taking your top off and exposing your black lace bra. It was a bit sheer and it hugged your figure perfectly.

Jackson had a hungry expression across his face, “Fuck. That’s really hot.”

“I know. I got it for you.” With that, you unzipped your skirt and allowed it to fall off your body. You were only in lingerie now, all exposed for Jackson.

“Oh my God.”

“Do you like it, baby?” you started to make your way towards Jackson, who couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Do I like it? I love it. You look so fucking good.” Once you were close enough, he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. He started kissing your stomach lightly while you took his cap off and started caressing his hair. “You’re the hottest person I’ve ever seen,” Jackson said between kisses. “So beautiful.”

You hummed lightly in agreement, tugging at his hair and raising his head so he’d look at you. You motioned for him to sit properly on the bed. He did as he was told, moving backwards and resting against the headboard. You got yourself on the bed and started moving his way on all fours. Once you’ve reached him, you straddled his lap.

“Tonight’s your night, baby. I’m gonna make you feel really good,” you said while taking off his shirt. You did it slowly and once his torso was exposed, you dragged your nails all over it, leaving pretty red marks all over his chest and shoulders.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. His hands were on your waist, squeezing it.

You rested your hands on his shoulders for support and started kissing his neck. It started off with light pecks, Jackson closing his eyes and tilting his head backwards so you’d have more space. You started to bite and suck on his neck, leaving a mess of red and purple marks behind. He looked good like that, with your passion imprinted all over him.

You made your way towards his jaw and then his lips, finally kissing them and Jackson hummed in approval. You were grinding against his lap and you could feel how hard he was getting. The kiss was slow at first, just tasting, savoring the feeling. But it didn’t take long until both of you needed more. It got hungry, tongues moving rhythmically against each other. Jackson’s hands then moved to your breast, making you moan against his mouth and grind harder against him.

“You make the prettiest sounds, baby,” he said against your lips. Jackson was always very verbal during sex, praising you all the time. It made you feel special.

His hands then made their way back to your waist and his lips started moving downwards. You felt his lips at your jaw and your neck, small bites being left behind. His lips then reached your chest, kissing and sucking every piece of skin they could reach. It was hot, in the literal sense of the word. Every place that Jackson’s lips touched left a trail of fire behind them. It felt good, it felt warm.

“I love your body so much. You’re so beautiful,” Jackson said in between kisses.

You grabbed his face, looking at him intently, “I like you, Jacks.” You pecked his lips. “It’s your night, let me make you feel good huh?” You started trailing kisses on his neck and on his Adam apple, moving down. You got out of his lap and sat back on your feet, settling between his legs. Your hands then moved towards his belt, removing it. You leaned forward, hands on each side of his body and lips across his chest, leaving some more red marks. You got back again and your fingers were now slowly moving across his navel. The bulge on his jeans was visible by now, the outline of his cock perfectly marked across his pants. He hummed in response, enjoying your touch and not wanting to rush it - he knew you had time. You leaned forward once again, capturing his lips. You couldn’t get enough of his taste, it was addictive. Jackson’s lips always tasted like passion.

You decided to finally remove his pants, hands working with majesty. He got his body up so you could take his jeans off. When they were gone, sprawled across his bedroom floor, you started to lightly trace the outline of his now fully hard cock over his black boxers.

“You really are a tease huh?” Jackson said, eyes closed and head across the headboard.

You chuckled lightly, “I won’t tease much, though, don’t worry.”

You were palming him fully now, squeezing his cock a bit harder against your palm, the friction of his boxers against his length sending delicious jolts of pleasure through his body. He moaned.

“You make pretty sounds too, Jacks. I love hearing them.” You finally got your hands inside his boxers, allowing him to feel you fully against him, fingers at his tip in circular moves.

“Yeah,” he was breathing heavily. “That’s because you’re making me feel good. How about you make me feel even better and wrap those pretty red lips around my dick?”

“If it was any other day I’d tease you some more, but it’s all about you tonight,” he had his eyes opened by now and you smiled at him.

“Such a good girl for me,” he said with a smirk.

You got him out of his boxers and moved back, getting on all fours. You kissed his right thigh first, while your hand squeezed the other one. You loved his thighs, they were pretty, muscular and also sensitive. His hands were now on your head, fingers across your hair in a gentle way.

Your hands moved slowly towards his cock, that was hard across his abs. You touched his balls first, massaging them in circular motions. You looked at Jackson and what you saw made you wet. His eyes were closed again, bottom lip trapped between his teeth and hair slightly messy. Jackson always looked good, but you thought he looked even better like this, surrendering himself to you, in every possible way. You then moved one of your hands to his length, pumping it up and down at a lazy pace.

“Baby… please.” He sounded whiny, needy - just like you wanted.

“What do you want, Jacks? Say it and I’ll give it to you like a nice girl.” You kept on pumping him, now a bit faster, but still not fast enough.

“I want your lips around my cock. Please. Just… just suck me off.”

You smiled at him. All you wanted tonight was to make him feel good and you were determined to accomplish that. You moved your hands to the base of his cock, holding it still. You gave his tip a few kitten licks and Jackson hissed. You decided to stop teasing and finally wrapped your lips around his cock, slowly moving your head down. He tasted salty, he tasted good.

“Yes, baby, like that.”

You started to move your head up and down, still not going fast enough. One of your hands was at the base of his cock, just where your mouth couldn’t reach, while the other was playing with his balls. You swallowed around him, sending waves of pleasure all over Jackson’s body. You kept your pace on for a while, feeding on Jackson’s moans and whimpers when you’ve decided it was time to give him some more.

You got your head up, releasing Jackson’s cock with a pop and looked at him, “Baby, I want you to fuck my face.”

“W-what?” he sounded breathless. In all the times you two had sex, he’d never done something like that. None of you ever brought it up, but you guessed it was something he’d be into since every time you sucked him off, he’d buck his hips up unconsciously. “Isn’t that gonna hurt you?”

You kept on pumping him slowly, thumbs spreading the pre-cum that was now forming at his tip, while the other hand was running up and down his thigh to relax him, “No baby. It’s your birthday, let’s try it out. If it gets uncomfortable I’ll tell you, okay?”

“O-ok then… But you have to promise you’ll say something if it gets too much ok? I know my equipment might be a lot sometimes,” he said with a laugh.

“Jacks. Just shut up and get off the bed so we can do this.”

Jackson got up and waited for you with a look of excitement all over his face. You were now on your knees in front of him, hands resting on his thighs and eyes focused on his.

He settled his hand at the back of your head, holding your hair in a ponytail, “Just slap me if you want me to stop, ok?”

You nodded and opened your mouth, showing him you were ready. Jackson slowly got his cock into your mouth, not allowing it to hit the back of your throat just yet.

He let out a sigh and looked at you, “You ok? Can I move?” You hummed around him in approval. His grip around your hair then tightened and he started to move his hips. He kept a slow pace at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling. He kept your head still and eyes locked on yours.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good. So wet and warm.” His cock was now buried deep inside your mouth, fully hitting the back of your throat over and over again. Jackson’s moves were intense, thrusts long and sharp. You were trying to control your body, breathing through your nose so it wouldn’t trigger your gag reflex that much.

“Do me - uh, fuck - do me a favor,” Jackson said between moans. You looked at him, cock in your mouth and eyes on his. “Touch yourself.” Your eyes widen at his words. “C’mon, baby. Make yourself feel good,” he said while he grabbed your hair tighter.

You moved one of your hands out of his thigh and spread your legs enough for your hand to fit between them. You looked at Jackson and slipped your fingers inside your panties. You were pretty wet already, juices all over your folds. One of your fingers then moved up and down to spread out your arousal across your pussy lips.

Jackson’s hips never stopped moving, “Oh my God. This is so good, fuck. Put one finger in, baby, be a good girl.”

You did as he told you and got your middle finger inside yourself. You moaned in relief around Jackson’s cock, who released a filthy noise himself. You started pumping your finger slowly, getting used to the feeling.

“You look so fucking hot like that, shit. So hot, touching yourself and with your -“ you felt Jackson’s cock hit the back of your throat with a particularly deep thrust while you’ve hit a sweet spot inside you yourself, “- urgh! With your lips around my cock.”

This was dirty and hot and turning you on like you haven’t been in a long time. Jackson bucked his hips a few more times and then backed off, giving you room to breathe. You then got your finger out and whined at the loss of contact.

“I think that’s enough, otherwise I’m gonna cum,” he said in breathy laughs, letting your hair down. He held a hand for you, helping you get up back on your feet.

“That’s kinda the point here.” You were now up and with hands on his chest.

Jackson got his hands on the low of your back, pulling you towards him. “I know,” he said with a smile. “But since it’s my birthday I wanna be inside you when I cum.”

“Uh, hot,” you laughed. You moved your hands to his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. It was intense, like everything with Jackson, tongues moving across each other and savoring the feeling.

His hand moved to your ass and he gave it a light spank, squeezing it right after. It caused you to moan against his soft lips. He took the opportunity to break away and direct his kisses towards your neck.

“Are you wet, baby? I bet you are. All wet and just from being a good girl and letting me fuck your face and from touching yourself,” Jackson said between a trail of kisses and bites.

You moaned softly, “Yeah, I’m really wet, baby.” You were. As if Jackson face fucking you wasn’t enough, him making you touch yourself only added fuel to the fire. You were drenched and now you wanted nothing more than to feel him against you somehow.

He backed you off and you felt your knees hit the back of the bed. “Maybe I should feel it myself, huh? What do you say, baby?”

“Please. Please, Jacks.”

“Urgh, I love when you beg. That’s definitely a look on you,” he said with a smug look on his face. “Get back on the bed, c’mon.”

You laid down on the bed, head against Jackson’s soft pillows and legs parted. He settled himself between them, sitting back on his heels. His hands started to slowly make their way up your legs and towards your lacy panties. When he reached their outline, he stopped himself, making you frown.

“You know what? You’re gonna keep this whole thing on tonight.”

“What? Really?” You were still confused.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “It’s all for me right? So I’m fucking you in them, especially since this set looks really good on you.”

“Ok, fine. But just… give me something, I’m dying here,” you said, a frown across your face.

Jackson just smiled at you and went back to tracing sweet nothings across your navel and then moving to the inside of your thighs. He was really close to where you wanted him and your body felt like it was on fire, his fingertips leaving burning traces on your skin. You suddenly felt one of his hands holding your underwear to the side, while the other made its way towards your folds.

“Oh, baby. So wet…”

“Hm, yeah. Touch me, Jackson. Please.”

His fingers firstly rubbed the outside of your folds, not yet touching you fully. After what felt like forever, you finally felt his finger near your entrance, spreading your juices a bit. Without warning, he slipped his finger in and you moaned in relief, the pressure getting too much to handle.

“More, please.”

Jackson smirked. “Already?” he said, slowly pumping his finger in and out.

“Fuck, yes. I’m already so wet and I was fingering myself so-“ you stopped mid-sentence when he added another finger. “Shit, yes.”

He moved his body forward, fingers never leaving your pussy. He was towering you, one muscular arm by the side of your head, while the other disappeared between your body. His lips captured yours in a hungry kiss, nibbling and sucking at your bottom lip. Jackson curled his fingers up, hitting a sensitive spot inside you and making a moan roll off your lips. One of your hands grabbed his arm as if to hold yourself back to earth, the pleasure starting to build up inside you. The other was busy leaving scratch marks all over his shoulder.

He kept on kissing you, his two fingers now moving at a quicker pace. Suddenly, his thumb was on your clit and you got tighter around him, “Fuck, so tight. You’re gonna cum soon, aren’t you?” There was no point in denying it, Jackson knew your body too well by now.

“Yes, shit,” you could feel your orgasm starting to build up inside you. “I’m close.”

“Are you close, baby?” Jackson picked up his pace and increased the pressure against your clit.

Your head was now thrown back, drops of sweat starting to form by your hairline while Jackson’s lips were now at your exposed neck. “Fuck, yes.”

Jackson felt your body contracting against his fingers and then suddenly, he pulled out, sitting back on his heels, You were left hanging. You opened your eyes, not recognizing him - Jackson was more of an overstimulating than an edging guy.

“Ok, what the fuck. I was so close,” you said, a frown taking over your face.

Jackson laughed, “I know, I felt it.” You kept on eyeing him with furred brows. “I just want us to cum together today. Don’t be mad, I thought it’d be good,” he had now a pout on his face.

You laughed lightly. “This is actually cute,” you said, pulling him back towards you. “So how do you want me, huh?” Your lips were now close to his ear, biting on his earlobe ever so slightly.

“Oh, I get to choose?” he pulled back to look at you, who was now smiling at him.

“Yeah, it’s your night, remember?”

“Then I want you to ride me,” he said, smirk across his face and getting off of you.

“So I’m gonna have to do all the job?” you moved to the side so he could lie down on the bed.

“I’ll help you out, I’m a giver, you know?” Jackson laughed and got on the bed and putting his hands behind his head and motioning for you to straddle him.

“I’ll pretend you didn’t just deny me an orgasm and agree,” you said, getting on top of him, right on his thighs, and hands on his broad chest.

“It was for a bigger cause!”

“I know,” you smiled down at him, fingers now lightly tracing patterns on his hips.

“Anyways. You look really amazing in this lingerie. It’s gonna be really hot to fuck you in it.”

“Thank you, baby. I’m glad you liked it.” Your hands slowly made their way to his cock, gripping it not too hard and pumping it up and down a few times.

“Your hands feel so good.” You two kept your eyes locked on each other while filthy words were being said, “But I really wanna be inside you right now.”

You leaned in to give him a quick peck and positioned yourself closer to his cock, hips slightly up. One of his hands moved to his length and while you held your panties to the side, he aligned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip against it so it was wet enough. Slowly, you sank down on him, both of you moaning in bliss.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jackson said, his hand back at his head, eyes fixated on you and lips swollen from biting and kissing.

You didn’t move for a while, eyes shut and getting used to the feeling of being full. Jackson’s cock wasn’t too big, but it was rather thick. It felt good inside you, filling you up in all the right places. At a lazy pace, you started to move your hips up ‘til only his tip was in and then back down ‘til you were sitting on him again. It felt good, warm and fun - and that was Jackson. He was all fire, in every possible way.

You opened your eyes and met his, smirking at him and resting your hands on his chest for balance. His hands gripped yours, holding them against his skin in an act that felt intimate among all the smell of arousal and sex.

“Faster, baby,” he said, trying hard not to buck his hips up to meet your movements‪. You then picked up the pace, moving as he requested. Jackson was all moans now, messy hair and hands tight against yours. “Fuck, you feel so good inside me.” Your nails hard on his chest, you were sure they were gonna leave marks. You kept your pace for a while, it was too good, too hot.

Jackson’s hand left yours and made their way towards your body. First, your boobs, massaging them through the bra, the feeling of the lace against your nipples adding pleasure to his action. Then they moved to your ass, squeezing it hard, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core.

“This is so good, Jackson,” you moaned, while his hands kept on roaming all over your body, touching every bit of skin they could find. He was in heaven - as if the feeling of you moving up and down on his cock wasn’t enough, the fabric of your panties against his length was enough to bring him to ecstasy.

You decided to fully sit on him to change up your movements. You were now moving your hips in circular motions, alternating it with going back and forth.

“Shit, you’re amazing. So fucking tight.” Jackson’s hand made its way to your clit. It was messy, among lacy underwear and his cock, but he made it work. He rubbed circles against your bundle of nerves and you could feel your orgasm starting to build up again.

“Ready for the grand finale?” Jackson said in a teasing tone, getting you confused. “I said I was gonna fuck you and now I’m gonna do just that.”

He suddenly grabbed your hips firmly and flipped you over, never allowing his cock to slip out of you. He was now on top, settled between your legs and looking at you like he was going to devour you - and maybe he would. “Ready?”

You laughed a little - you were not expecting this, but you weren’t surprised. Jackson was always spontaneous, so you never knew for sure what was happening next. “Yeah,” you said, a smile on your face. “Fuck me.”

The moment those words left your lips, Jackson started moving. It was not sweet - it was hard, passionate, intense. The room was filled with moans, sounds of skin against skin and dirty sentences.

“Shit, Jackson. Fuck.” It felt too good. He was moving at a rapid pace, hands on each side of your head. You wrapped your legs around his hips, wanting to feel him closer as if it was possible to be any closer and to feel him even more than how you were feeling him right now.

“You like it, baby? I can feel you clenching, you’re so tight.” He moved back, resting on his heels and hands now at your clit, fingers tracings circles against it. His thrusts were even faster and deeper now, hitting all the right places inside you.

“Shit, right there.” Jackson knew you. After too many fucks, he was familiar with your body and he knew which buttons to push to drive you over the edge.

“Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Yes, oh my God. Please, don’t stop.” Your head was thrown back in pure pleasure, lips trapped against your teeth and hands grasping at the soft sheets trying to have a hold on yourself. You could feel your orgasm approaching while Jackson kept on rubbing your clit.

“Cum, baby. Cum for me.” And that was it, you were gone. Your juices were all over Jackson’s cock, his fingers now pinching your clit while you came all over him, muttering his name under your breath.

His thrusts didn’t stop, as if anything they were even harder now. You were feeling everything to the max, being sensitive due to your orgasm. Jackson leaned forward once again and laced your fingers together, finding another way to display intimacy in the middle of this dirty act. He lifted your laced fingers to the top of your head and kept them there while he kissed you passionately.

“Fuck, you’re so good, so fucking good. I’m gonna cum,” Jackson said against your lips.

“Fill me up, please. Please,” you begged. Jackson buried his head on the crook of your neck and came with the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. He thrusted a few more times, deep, hard, to finish both of you off and to ride you out of your highs. Moans were then replaced by heavy breathing and giggles.

“Shit. That was so hot,” Jackson said catching his breath, head still on your neck that was being wrapped in soft kisses. You were still holding hands, fingers covered in sweat and legs around his figure. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I haven’t cum this hard in a while.”

You laughed at his confession, “Don’t worry. Me too. Now please, move. You’re too heavy.” He smiled against your skin, unlacing your fingers and getting up, lying down next to you.

“Can I please take off the lingerie now? They’re all sweaty,” you said with a pout.

Jackson laughed, “Yes, baby. Sit up, let me take it off of you and you can wear some of my clothes to sleep.”

You removed your underwear and then set up with your back to Jackson so he could take your bra off. He gave your shoulder a small kiss and got up to give you some clothes. He cleaned both of you up before putting on a boxer and grabbing one of his t-shirts for you, along one of the clean underwear you kept on his drawers. You put them on and the next thing you know you’re being pulled against Jackson’s broad chest, soft blankets and warm hands all around your skin.

“Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah. It was a good birthday, I’m happy,” he had a childish smile on his face so you knew he was being sincere.

His hand was trailing sweet patterns against your back and you were doing the same on his chest.

“Are you worried about tomorrow morning?”

“What do you mean?” Jackson said with a furrowed brow.

“You know, the soulmate thing? The tattoo?” It didn’t matter it was after midnight and pretty much his birthday already, the tattoo only showed up after you slept.

“Oh, that. I don’t know, I’m not really thinking about it.” Jackson was a carefree person, so you weren’t surprised by his statement. “But I was being serious, you know? A few days ago.”

“What do you mean?”

His free hand grabbed the one that was on his chest and held it tightly, chin resting against the top of your head and his breathing steady, “I wouldn’t mind if your initial showed up at my wrist tomorrow. I like you.”

You laid a soft kiss against his chest and smiled, “Yeah, I like you too.”

He kissed your forehead gently and his hand went from your back to your hair, fingers combing through your locks, “Ok, now enough of this cheesiness. Let’s sleep, you’ve worn me out today,” Jackson said, letting out a soft laugh.

“Okay,” you laughed. “Happy birthday, Jacks.” You held his hand a little tighter. You felt safe there, in his arms. That was scary, you thought, all these feelings that were starting to build up. It was hot, just like him and his heart. You didn’t wanna get burned. But you were a bit too tired to care about that now, so you just closed your eyes and kept your hand against his.

“Sweet dreams, baby.” Jackson gave you one last gentle kiss, lips lingering against each other for a while, savoring the feeling. He settled his chin back on the top of your head - this fits just right, he thought to himself. He wasn’t gonna admit it, not now, but he would be more than ok with your initial showing up at his wrist. With one last thought - the wishing of waking up to your initial on his wrist - eyes closed and kind touches, Jackson finally fell asleep, and it was warm.

a/n: holy shit???? my first smut???? omg!!!! I don’t even know how to feel or what to say after writing 10k for another chapter lol. this is much longer than the previous ones, but i hope y’all don’t mind. sorry it took me so long in updating, my life’s a mess and i’m graduating from college soon, so i hope things get better after that. thank you so much for reading and for being patient. please PLEASE drop some feedback on my askbox - it would mean a lot to me hearing what you guys are thinking about this story. one last thank you to my baby and beta, @yoongitalks. another thank you to my two julias, @jinkooksgf and @jugyoem. i love the three of you a lot, thank you for putting up with me and my shit. ok that’s it please hmu with feedback i love all of you thank you bye!

[likexporcelain]

Anatomy of a Shadow (Chapter 1/9) - Jonerys

Summary: While isolating herself at her family's vacation home on the small Pacific Northwestern island of Dragonstone, Daenerys stumbles upon a crime scene which leads her to form an intense bond with a mysterious and possibly dangerous young man who won't speak to her, touch her, or even show her his face. Jon Snow is her shadow on the wall, but is he really protecting her from those who would do her harm, or is he simply leading harm right to her doorstep? Daenerys is the sun in his dark sky, but is she really worth protecting?

Rating: Explicit (for eventual and continual violence and some smut)

First chapter up on Ao3 -- see additional tags/notes/warnings there

DAENERYS

It is raining, which is a good thing. It's much more difficult to follow someone when it's raining, right? Let the water wash away any trace of me – my finger prints, shoe prints, the tire marks from my Jetta as I speed down the highway. No. The rain won't make a difference. I'll have to board the ferry to get to my family's old vacation home. That means buying a ticket, showing my I.D. and – fuck – I'll have to use my credit card because the only cash I have is a couple crumpled up five dollar bills stashed in my glove box. What am I doing? Running away is probably the stupidest thing I could do. Only guilty people run.

Still, I stand in line and buy the ticket to Dragonstone. It's my family's house after all. It would be only natural that after suffering such a traumatic event as finding my roommate with a knife dug into the center of her chest, lying between the beds in our dorm room that I would feel the need to get away, go someplace quiet to clear my head. That is what I'm really doing. I just need to get away from everyone and get these images out of my head. The detectives will soon figure out that I've left school and it will be easy for them to discover where I've gone. But that's okay, because I'm not trying to hide from them, because I did nothing wrong. Nothing they can prove, I hope.

The moon is up and the rain is still falling when I make it to the house. It's large by normal standards – three bedrooms, two bathrooms, an open main living area with floor to ceiling windows that overlook the sea – but my dad is rich and growing richer by the day, so this home was eventually stamped unworthy of a Targaryen vacation. It's been years since anyone has set foot in this house, as evident by all of the dust and the cold, musty smell I'm bombarded with as soon as I walk in. White linens cover expensive furniture and priceless artwork no one cares about anymore.

Thankfully, my dad has still been paying the bills for this place because the lights turn on when I hit the light switches and the water runs when I turn on the bathtub facet in the master bathroom. I make up the king sized bed while the tub fills with scalding water. The basin is large enough to fit three of me, so I have plenty of time to kill. I find candles and a box of matches under the bathroom sink and arranged them around the tub, light them, then turn out the sconce lighting. I prefer darkness. The tub has jets, but I have no use for them. I prefer quiet too.

When the water is high, I turn off the facet and step in. Just standing in the center of the tub, the water reaches my knees, so hot that I think my skin will bubble, but I revel in the pain. I want more. Slowly, I lower myself with closed eyes, teeth digging into my bottom lip so hard I can taste blood.

Blood.

Blood on the floor, spilling from the chest of my roommate, pooling at either side of her, expanding like round red wings ready to fly her up to heaven, or maybe hell. I hadn't known her very well. Maybe she was bad. As bad as me. No. There is no one as bad, as sick, as me.

Blood under my feet, on my knees where I knelt beside her, checking her pulse. When I had raised my hand to my mouth, I could taste it, colder than I'd expected, sweeter.

Blood around me, covering me, filling me. I open my eyes and I see all the red. I'm bathing in my roommates blood. Missandei. That was her name, but then again, I didn't really care about her. She hadn't mattered. All that mattered was the blood.

I submerge myself up to my neck, letting the heat consume me. My hand is between my legs, rubbing the tender, burning flesh, but there's no use. It's not the same. No matter how vivid the memories are, no reverie could recreate the way I felt that night with that taste in my mouth and the sight of the red pools growing in size.

For a half hour, I try, but just can't cum. I can't even get close. It's been too long. Just three days and I'm already suffering withdrawals. I thought the first time was supposed to linger. I thought I could live off of her death for years.

When the water turns cold, I pull the plug on the drain and sob until I am left lying in the middle of the tub, hugging my knees to my chest, wondering how many days I will have to myself before everyone realizes what sort of a girl I really am. Daenerys Targaryen. Beautiful, smart, rich. Possessed, deranged, dangerous.

Evil.

* * * * *

I wake up early the next morning. I'm not usually a morning person, but sleep was hard to come by when I was so convinced that at any moment one of the detectives I'd met the night of Missandei's unfortunate murder would knock on my door and ask me why I had left school, left Seattle, without notifying them. They would be suspicious, and I would eventually crack under their questioning.

But no one knocked.

The sun is rising over the trees, casting a shine over the calm ocean water that I watch from the back deck. There are some old Swiss Miss packets in one of the kitchen cupboards and I make myself a mug, but that is about the extent of the food supply here. I will have to go to the grocery store. Use my credit card again, but I suppose that at this point, it hardly matters. My fate is sealed. All I can do now is live a peaceful life for however many days, or hours, I have left.

I change into one of the few outfits I brought with me – just essentials, stuffed into a small gym bag – and tie my long, Targaryen-silver hair up in a messy pony tail. I don't bother with makeup, because impressing people isn't part of my life anymore. I am different now. No longer an over-achieving college junior. No longer the sweet daughter of one of the state's richest businessmen. My entire life is this empty house now, on this scantily populated island.

There isn't a cloud in the sky as I walk to the market, about a two mile hike, and the air smells fresh from last night's storm. So fresh I wonder for a moment if the rain had worked on me as it had on the air. Am I clean now too? Have all my sins washed away into the sea? Is that why I am walking into town right now and not riding in the back of a police car?

The closest neighbor to my family's house is half a mile down the road. Unless they've moved, it belongs to a retired couple. A retired man and his wife, I should say. She'd never worked a day in her life. He was a finance man. Hedge funds, or investment banking. Maybe both. Is there even a difference? Who knows. Either way, he's a boring old man who has too much money and never smiles despite having everything anyone could ever want. That's probably why he and my father always got along.

Sure enough, as I pass their impressive abode, Mrs. Baratheon is in the front garden. Her eyes widen when they fall to me and I raise my hand in a wave. I am always recognizable from a distance, due to the odd coloring of my hair. Or, I guess I should say, the odd absence of color. Even whiter than my alabaster skin. I stop walking so that she can approach me, smiling wide.

“My, my. Little Daenerys Targaryen? I haven't seen you since you were. . . How old were you? Fifteen?”

I smile sweetly. It's easy to lie to people who don't suspect anything of me. In a way, I'd been doing that my whole life. Any time I would drift into a gruesome daydream and someone asked “What are you thinking about?” I would smile sweetly and lie.

“You're looking well, Mrs. Baratheon,” I tell her, even though she really doesn't. Her hair is stringy and her face is wrinkled. Her gardening clothes are noticeably expensive, though, so there's that.

She brushes away my complement, not buying it, but blushes nonetheless. “Is your father and brother here? Gosh, I haven't seen them in ages either.”

“They don't come here much anymore. Viserys is down in California working on some silly nonsense project with his Silicon Valley friends. We don't exactly keep in touch. Dad's simply grown tired of the fog. He's more of a Hawaii man now. It's good to be back here. This was always my favorite place growing up.”

“Mine too! Well, that's why I insisted on moving here full-time. It does mean that Stannis is away from me quite often, but I manage. He's been working again, though only part-time. It's hard for men like him to sit still.”

“My father is the same way. His job is like a third child – his favorite child.”

Mrs. Baratheon claps her hands in front of her. “Where are my manners? Would you like to come in for some coffee? A bagel? Stannis isn't home. He's out of town until tomorrow, so you won't have to sit through any of his boring economics lectures.”

I take a breath, staring down the road while thinking the proposal over. Today more than any other day should be treated as a stop-and-smell-the-roses day, so I accept. “A bagel sounds lovely, but I'll only stay for a bit. I'm actually on my way to the market now, but it's so far and I'm famished.”

“Better fuel up then!” She exclaims, placing her hand on my shoulder and leading me up the path to her home, so lavish it makes mine feel modest. Marble floors cover every square foot of the main living area and a grand stone fireplace stretches up twenty feet to the ceiling. A staircase with a hand-carved banister curves around a crystal chandelier, leading up to a second floor overhang. A five foot tall portrait bordered by a gold frame hangs on the wall opposite the fireplace. Mr. and Mrs. Baratheon posing with their daughter, Shireen, dressed like they are characters in a Dickens novel and standing in what looks to be a drab library.

While Mrs. Baratheon brings a tray of bagels and coffee into the living room, I ask “How is your daughter? She must be a teenager by now.”

“Oh.” Her nose scrunches as she shakes her head. “Yes, yes. She's well. We have her in a boarder academy in the Northeast. She says she hates it there, but she's always been a complainer. It's good for her. I'm hoping that some time spent around other girls will do her some good. Better than hanging around here all the time, getting under toe, that's for sure.”

Nodding once, I find myself feeling odd about the response. There was no warmth in the woman's voice. I'd liked to imagine that if I'd ever have a daughter, I would speak of her warmly. I've never experienced real love or even simple affection for another human, but a child is different. I think I could love a child. But, that doesn't matter anymore either, because I will never have one of those, unless those news articles about how male prison guards treat female inmates is accurate.

I don't partake in any coffee, but I pick up one half of a toasted sesame seed bagel and smear it with Strawberry jam from a crystal bowl. Mrs. Baratheon takes a seat on the couch, but I remain standing, my eyes catching the shine of something interesting perched on the reclaimed wood mantel above the hearth.

Resting on a stand made of iron, is a knife – a dagger? – with a gold handle, intricately carved in a flourishing design. The blade is curved and at least a foot in length, clean and sharp. I gravitate toward it, my hand raising, fingers erecting to brush the smooth steel. It's beautiful, not just in appearance, but in utility, in how much damage it could do with just one swift thrust, one quick slice.

“Valyrian steel,” Mrs. Baratheon's voice rings from behind me, dripping with indifference like the daggers presence bores her. I feel offended and briefly wonder if she'd let me have it if I asked. Then again, one swift thrust, one quick slice, and I could simply take it. “Stannis brought it home with him a year ago. Some antique ceremonial weapon from one of those Eastern barbarian cultures. Personally, I think it's gaudy and dangerous, but my husband loves the thing, and I'm sure it cost him a pretty penny. I figure I'll sell it once the cigars catch up with him.”

Fingertips sliding down the flat steel surface to the golden handle, I wish to pick it up, just to see how heavy it is. It has to be heavier than the hunting knife I'd thieved from a bedroom in the frat house I'd attended a party at a week before my roommate was murdered. I'd been drawn to it the same way I am drawn to this Valyrian steel dagger, but to compare the two would be like comparing my Jetta to my father's new Maserati.

“Daenerys?”

My eyes close and behind my eyelids, I see red.

“Daenerys?”

Mrs. Baratheon's hand lands on my shoulder and my eyes snap open as I jump, pulling my hand away from the dagger.

“I'm sorry,” I say quickly.

With a smile, she says “No need to apologize. That thing is spooky as heck. Gives me a good fright nearly every day.”

While I finish my bagel, I sit with my back to the dagger and try to focus on Mrs. Baratheon's words rather than the pulsing of her jugular vein, prominent due to her lithe frame, and as soon as I've had my fill, I thank her for her hospitality and leave, but not before agreeing to come over for dinner tomorrow night. “Stannis would love to catch up with you,” Mrs. Baratheon had insisted. I don't want to come over, but I hadn't prepared an excuse to get out of it, and I figure there is a decent chance I'll already be in handcuffs by dinner time tomorrow anyway.

At the market, I optimistically purchase a weeks worth of pre-made salads, stove-top dinners and ingredients for sandwiches, quesadillas and spaghetti, along with a carton of eggs. As the cashier checks me out and bags my groceries – I'd sprung for a couple of one-dollar reusable bags because, fuck it – I turn my eyes up to the TV mounted to the wall. Seattle news. A murder, according to the headline and my heart races for a moment thinking they are talking about Missandei's murder. I half expect my photo to pop up with “Wanted for Questioning” captioned below. However, as I read the subtitles, I learn they are speaking of a different murder, a more important murder, because the man who has died was a politician. One of those conspiracy theorist-types who didn't have a shot at winning, but whose campaign was really just a way to bolster a certain subset of humans who thought they deserved more rights than anyone else simply for being white and stupid.

“The sketch seen on your screen now is that of a man police suspect is connected to the crime. He was seen by a neighbor leaving the home of the victim the night of the murder. If you have any information as to the identity or whereabouts of this man, please contact the Seattle police department immediately.”

I squint my eyes at the sketch, wondering if he is someone I know, but even if I did know him, it's not as if I'm going to contact the police about it. I am trying to avoid a murder investigation, not insert myself into a new one. But, I do not recognize the man at all. His hair is cut short to the scalp without any style, his face is covered in stubble not long enough to be considered an actual beard, his lips are thin and his cheeks look dirty, though that is probably just sloppy shading on the sketch artist's part.

“This incident follows just one day after the suspicious slaying of a nineteen year old King's Landing University student. So far, police say they have found no connection between these two murders, but have yet to rule this out as a possibility.”

“Miss?” asked the young, pimply cashier. “That'll be forty-seven fifty.”

I turned away from the TV, offer her a smile and my credit card.

Another murder. And one that is much higher in profile to mine – I mean, to my roommate's. This could only be good news, right? Scum bag or not, the assassination of a political figure will always take precedent over the stabbing of a marginally popular coed, right?

When my card is returned to me, I take my bags with another smile, but this time it is genuine. Maybe I'll have more time left than I'd thought.

* * * * *

JON

It's cold in this room. Damp. There's a leak somewhere. I hear it drip at night, but I have yet to find it's source. I don't like it here in the North where it's cold and wet and drippy. I feel like it's been years since I've felt the sun on my face. Maybe it has been years. The room is cold and so am I, even in my corduroy pants, sweater, gloves and my mask. Everything black.

“Are you a fucking moron?! Like, an actual fucking moron?!” shouts Theon Greyjoy. He's loud. Always loud. I don't like him because he's loud. It makes it difficult to hear other things, more important things, like if someone is walking up behind me or if a gun is being drawn from a holster. He's yelling at the kid because of something he saw on the news, but I've learned that most of what Theon says isn't worth listening to so I focus on listening through him, to the sound of the kid rubbing his hands anxiously across his jeans.

“I'm sorry! I forgot to put my mask on before going back outside, but it was three in the morning! How was I supposed to know some fat old man would be walking his dog at three in the morning!” the kid replies.

Gendry isn't really a kid. He's around the same age as the rest of us, but he's younger in spirit I guess. It isn't an insult that I think of him as a kid. I wish I could be a kid again. Change something. Go down a different path. One different than my brother's. It's too late now, though. I am who I am now. Only twenty-one but already an old dog unable to learn any new tricks, like being a normal person who goes outside during the day instead of sitting in a cold, damp, drippy basement until the sun is gone.

The sun. What does she look like again?

“You're not! You're supposed to know never to take your fucking mask off!” Theon retorts, clenching his fists in the fabric of Gendry's t-shirt. “Even if that mother fucker hadn't fucking seen you – There's probably fucking hair and skin and your fucking boogers all over that son of a bitch's house now! You're in the fucking system! I swear to God, if they get your finger prints I'm going to fucking --”

“I didn't take off my gloves, man!” The kid's hands are up like he's about to be arrested. “And my mask was only off for a minute! They're not going to find anything!”

Theon releases the kid from his grip, plants one hand on his hip while thrusting his other in my direction, pointing at me. “This fucking psycho doesn't even take his fucking mask off to take a fucking shower and you can't keep yours on long enough to get out of the fucking house of the dude we just fucking killed?!”

Still listening through Theon, I hear the sound of a gun sliding against the leather of a belt. It's coming from behind me. Then footsteps, quick and heavy. In a second, the gun is digging into Theon's temple with Ramsay on the trigger side.

“I think you owe my brother an apology,” he sneers. I can't see his face, but I know that one corner of his mouth is lifted in a smirk. He wants to shoot Theon. He's wanted to for a long time. He would shoot everyone he meets if he could get away with it. Maybe even me.

Eyes wide with fear, Theon takes a hard swallow and says “Put the gun away. I was just pissed, alright? Let's not over react.”

“That didn't sound like an apology.” Ramsay turns his head to me and I was right, he's smirking. “That didn't sound like an apology, did it, Jon?”

I don't respond. No words, no shake or nod of my head. It wouldn't matter anyway. Ramsay does what he wants and I don't try to stop him. That's how it's always been. I wonder if he's actually going to pull the trigger this time. It would be a shame, not because I don't want to see Theon die, but because I've always hated guns. Quick, loud, and uncaring. That's Ramsay, though.

Before I can wonder too long, the scene is interrupted by our leader – our boss, I suppose. A boss who pays us not just in money, but also in warm bodies to kill.

“Put it away,” Roose demands in his dry, bored voice. “We have one more project and then we'll be out of the state. Gendry made a serious error, but it doesn't change our game plan.”

Ramsay complies, sliding the gun back behind him, into the waistband of his pants. He always listens to Roose Bolton. I think he sees the balding, middle-aged man with almost as little personality as me as a father figure. Maybe I should feel happy about that, because Ramsay never had a real father, but I don't feel happy about it because I don't know if I can feel happy about anything anymore.

Sitting in this cold, damp, drippy room of this cold, damp, drippy basement, we go over the mission again. Though he acts like what the kid did is no big deal, Roose doesn't trust him anymore, which makes him not trust any of us anymore, so after we go over the mission, we go over it again, and again. The target is some money man – I don't bother learning names anymore – who helps to launder money for foreign dictators or some such thing. Roose always makes sure to tell us all the reasons why a person is better off dead, but it never really matters. He could tell us the target is a teenage beauty queen with Ivy League ambitions and a spotless record and we would still show up at her house and take care of business.

Any murderer who claims to have a code, is a liar. I surely don't have a code, unless hating guns constitutes a code, but then again, I'm not a murderer. Not in the literal sense of the term anyway. I've never killed anyone. Not one person. Ever. I wouldn't be able to, and sometimes I feel weak because of it. Even the kid can kill, but I can't. I watch. I watch and then, when the job is done, I clean. That's why Roose isn't worried about Gendry's fingerprints or hair being found. It's because I cleaned. It's my job. It's what I'm good at. I listen, I watch, I clean. And I never take off the mask.

Well. . . not never. Theon was wrong. I do take it off to shower, because showers are a safe place when the bathroom door is locked. There's a bathroom in this basement we've been calling home for the past week. It's small and there is mold growing in the corner behind the sink that I still haven't fully eradicated. I wait until everyone else is asleep and then I go in, lock the door, and turn the water in the shower stall on. Until the shower heats up, the bathroom is even colder than the rest of the basement and as I disrobe, my skin tightens and stings and twitches in it's yearning for shelter.

There is a mirror above the sink, rusted on the edges and speckled with toothpaste and whatever else. I look at myself when my clothes are off and in a pile on the floor. I stare at my chest and stomach. My muscles are made more prominent by the fact that I haven't eaten in a day. Food is hard to come by while we are on missions because the need to lay low is even greater. Across my chest and my stomach are long, jagged, discolored scars. Every night I look at them and think back to the day I acquired them. On my knees in a filthy alleyway.

The mask is always last to come off. I have to prepare myself every time. The pain I feel without it's warm cloth covering my head and neck and face is real. I've grown so accustomed to always having my breathing partially compromised by the fabric over my mouth that I can no longer inhale normally without it. I take short, shallow breaths through my teeth. My eyes have grown so used to seeing through the fabric as well that light burns my eyes now without it. I have to unscrew two of the three bulbs mounted in an industrial light fixture above the mirror just to stand it.

When the mask is off, I look at my face, but never for too long. I'm pale, a ghost of a man, and there are scars there too, making me look older than I am, making me look ugly. I've grown a short beard, thinking it would detract from the scars, but I am still hideous. My dark hair is long too, and greasy from always being cocooned.

Steam envelops me now and my image blurs in the fog, relieving me of my own haunting reflection.

[butchoneal]

Cop And His Big Ideas

Butch: {I leaned over the blueprints that were spread out over the table in the Pit. Well, they weren’t really blueprints. More like something that I whipped together based on extensive reconnaissance. They were actually more detailed than blueprints because they included things like broken walkways and clutter. I reached over to grab a chip covered in cheese from a plate off to the side. A fat glob of nacho cheese landed on the blueprint before the chip made it to my mouth. The chip got crammed in my mouth whole as I raced to save the important data from its cheesy demise. My thumb did a piss poor job but I couldn’t worry about that now because the chip was wedged sideways in me esophagus. I choked, sputtered, and stumbled backward grabbing my throat. This is it. This is how I go out. Not by a lesser, oh no. By a chip that slices up my throat on the way down. I fell back on the couch alternating between gasping for air and trying to smash my own throat in the hopes of breaking up the chip. My other hand flails madly before it lands on a discarded beer bottle. Luckily it had a little left at the bottom. I upended the thing with a ragged gasp, still choking some but at least able to breathe now.}

Vishous: *In my bedroom at the Pit, I am putting away some of the daggers I have freshly made, into the safe, located inside of my closet. I have been spending some extra time in my forge. Two reasons behind that. The first one is that I needed some sort of outlet with all of the shit hitting the Compound lately. Between the cluster fuck with @Bounty_BDBRW being shot by #Xcor, and the lessers having a major hit on glymera owned property, plus @Tehrror_BDBRW giving us all a heart attack, channeling Darius during his induction..shit. We all need a vacation. Wars  don’t lend themselves to much time off, though. The second reason being that the trainees needed some more spare daggers to work with. I just locked the safe when I hear a loud ruckus coming from the small kitchen. Granted, by itself, that is not a cause for alarm, but something about this noise means something serious is going on.  I curse, shaking my head as I round the corner, see Cop, flailing like a fish out of water, and clawing at his throat.* Cop! For Scribe’s sake, didn’t someone teach you how to chew and swallow? *shakes my head as I come around  behind him, and wrap my arms around his huge body* Did you gain weight? Or you hitting the Lag extra hard? *I get a good grip and press hard, quick successions, into his abdominal cavity, in a perfect Heimlich Maneuver, growling, starting to sweat a little* Spit it out, already! *noticing the blue prints on the table, and the cheese drop that has spoiled them* I told you not to work in the kitchen. This is why you can not play with my Four Toys. What the fuck is this?

Butch: {A sloppy clump of barely chewed nacho chip forced its way up my throat thanks to the not so tender ministrations of my room mate. My face turned a shade of red that it was never intended to be, heading straight for blue before the offending food landed smack dab on the blueprints. Normally I would have taken the time to regain my breath and maybe pretend to pull myself together. Right now the plans, that I'd been working so hard at, were at the forefront of my mind. I scrambled out of V's hold to scrape the disgusting projectile from the paper. There may have been cursing involved as well but it would be hard to distinguish what was actually being said while also gasping for air. Rampant flailing aside, I still managed to carefully remove the nasty before it did too much damage. Then I immediately dropped to my knees on the floor and actually focused on taking in the necessary oxygen. I waved to Vishous to give me a minute. I'd answer his questions, hell I wanted him involved, just not while I was busy dying. I blindly fumbled around for the paper towel that I knew was on top of the table, my hand slapping along until I got it. I wasn't going to sit here with a piece of partially digested food in my hand all night long. Once I finally managed to clean myself up I felt that I could actually talk. I got up off the floor and tossed the paper towel in the garbage. After some more coughing, and a huge glass of water, I came back to the blueprints on the table. A stupid grin took over my face. Oh yeah, this was going to be good.} First off, thanks for the save. {giving him a mock salute} Secondly... {chuckling} This is here is the layout of a shitty warehouse located in Crack Central. This particular warehouse is one that I have now acquired. Well... you acquired. WE acquired. Mazel tov!

Vishous: *watching Cop recover, I raise one eyebrow and I grab a chip out of the open bag, and eat it. I raise my eyebrow as Cop motions me to wait, and I decide to take another chip and have some dip with it. What the hell is Cop up to? I gaze at the blueprint, trying to figure out if it is someplace I have been. I am running through locations in my mind when Butch finally gains back his ability to speak. Of course, this is a curse, and a blessing,  with Cop. It has been, since he showed up on our doorstep. I almost choke on my own chip, as I hear his words* A gift? In Crack Central? *gives a sly smile* Damn, Cop! The possibilities! *momentarily struck speechless and I laugh* We still ain’t dating, true? We could use that to torture the trainees in, more combat, explosives, daggers. Remember the first day we created for the trainees? This could be so much better..*making mental notes of my ideas as I look over everything* Fuck..so many great ideas. What did you plan on doing with it? We need to celebrate! *goes off to get us some Goose and Lag* We could put in a huge tv, the best sound bars and surround sound, I could have it ready by the time the first Sox game airs this season..bigger than what we have in here…

Butch: {My eyes lit up listening to V. There was a reason we worked so well together. Our thoughts went to the same places when it came to a lot of things.} See?! I knew you would understand! It's frickin perfect! The neighbors aren't going to say shit about any sounds coming from it, aaannnndd there is a very real possibility that lesser could actually show up! {I excitedly went back over to the blueprints, pointing with my finger.} It's even got some platforms with walkways overlooking the bottom. {I snagged up the bottle of Lag and took a swig straight from it before continuing on.} So here's my thoughts. They will be looking high. So I say we stay low, in among all the boxes and clutter that is still there. {I motioned to all the debris that were visible on my improved map of the place.} We leave someone like Tohr up high so he can take pot shots at them from various locations and make them think that there are a million of us up there. At the very back, and probably up on the second level, we put a hostage. I'm thinking we put Lassy in a dress and make him squeal. And after we are done with that we set it up for the new season! {Holds up my hand for a fistbump.}

Vishous: *fists bumps back, glowing,literally,  with excitement and enthusiasm at our diabolical ideas for the trainees.* Yes! I also want to get the best sound system in here, that I can fuck with and some mirrors. I want to put some surprises in some of those boxes. We don’t want to kill them..but..let’s just say we are providing “learning opportunities” *laughing* you are twisted wanting to use @Lassiter_BDBRW. He’s been torturing me for centuries, and sharing is caring, I approve. *excitedly walks over to my Four Toys and boots them up* I have a few websites saved. Bring the map over here! *pulls up the first site* I’ll use my Black Amex, since you purchased the building. Let;s buy some shit! Check this out..Bose Virtually Invisible Speakers...we need some of those, and perhaps Klipsh RP180 home theater system might be handy.  For some good mobility we need some of these Fender Audio Passport speakers...I’ve been eyeing these for while! *clicks add all to cart* We need some explosives, now..shit..we need Hollywood and Z in here..Tohr could probably help pick out some handy ammo that will make the impact we are looking for. This is going to be a party, the gift that keeps on giving! I knew there was a reason we kept you around...shit..we need to hire some contracters, too. I want to tweak the flooring..

Butch: You wire that place up and when the season starts it will be like we are at Fenway! {eyes alight} But with comfier seats! {Picturing a couple of nice, cushy Lazyboys with a full spread of snacks and alcohol. Lowering my voice to a whisper.} We could even say we were actually out patrolling... You know... for when they make us go out on game night! Of all the stupid things! {I take another swig of my Lag before snagging up the blueprints and bringing them over to V's computers.} I love this Jack-in-the-box idea. Could even leave holes for sneaky shooting. I'm thinking of some of those pellet rounds that hurt like a sonofabitch but don't do any lasting damage unless you take one to the mush. {Watching the things that V adds to his cart and then stopping to point at the screen.} That too. We need cameras. Inside and out. Oh! And strobe lights. Hell, even a fog machine wouldn't be bad. Would hide the actual smoke grenades that fuck with your breathing. {Pulling up a chair to sit down next to Vishous. My head turns to him with a kind of awe.} What do you want to do to the floor? I'm kinda scared and already loving it.

Vishous: *I forget what we are doing for a moment, when I hear you mention the word Fenway, and my mind floats away several months from now, when baseball starts back up again.* Damn good idea! This is close to a lot of action, it won’t take us much time at all to dematerialize here, hell..we could get a patrol in, during the 7th inning stretch! Lessers and baseball. Damn, Cop. We are lucky bastards! *I resume focusing, I open up a doc on my computer and listing out some things that we still need as Cop mentions them* Fuck. Sneaky shooting is what we deal with 24/7, they gotta get used to it, feel me? Now, for the floor. *grins evilly* Well. For one, I want it to move. Both  retractable and also up and down. Various sub floors beneath. A hidden pool. *grins wide* A shit ton of stuff to keep them on their feet. Ok. Maybe a bit for my amusement, too. *shrugs* Hey. Gotta get payback on these newbies somehow, for the hours of time we put into training them, true? Stobe lights..*debates* I wonder if we need to put some kind of clause like “strobe lights will be in use” or should it just be a surprise? *reaches for my container of tobacco, and I go to click on a website that sells a wide variety of wholesale lights*

Butch: {Smacks V on the shoulder.} Seriously, you insensitive bastard? You forget that I can't zip around like Mary Frickin Poppins? Here I'm thinking it's a shorter drive and you're worried about the distance your molecules will be flying?! Damn. That cuts, bro. {Rubbing the center of my chest like I just got wounded.} I'm going to try to forget your lapse of judgement there and focus on how frickin wicked this place is going to be. {My head tilted to the side as he described what he wanted to do with the floors. I was picturing it all and I knew what a cluster of a sitch it would make for anyone walking around on them. My brow started furrowing when I actually went to think about the grand scope of what he was talking about though.} I think maybe you are getting a little too big for your britches there. Let's think about this seriously here. What you are talking about is something that is going to take a fucking long time to construct. With that kind of traffic going in and out of that building, all the sudden it loses its charming 'shit hole' quality that might possibly draw stupid frickin lesser to our doorstep. Plus... And this is the major one... All that crap won't be done before the beginning of the new season. We will have to postpone our lazy baseball watching in favor of sending snot nosed trainees through hell on earth. This seriously puts a twist in my boxers.

Vishous: *raises my eyebrow and chuckles, shakes my head as Butch hits me on the shoulder* Hey. At least we upgraded you to vampire status, true? Will you really be butt hurt if you drive, and I dematerialize? Fiiine. *rolls eyes dramatically and elbows you back* Of course we’ll drive. I won’t leave you hanging. *grumbles as I grudgingly admit that you are right, but I would never, in the depths of my 6 chambered heart,  admit it, outloud* Fun killer. But..*curses* Ok. Damn it. You are right. I don’t want you to get a twist in your boxers. You should try going commando. *shrugs* All valid points. I would love to see the kids shit themselves if lessers did arrive on our doorstep. *grins, coldly* They might very well be drawn out this way. You picked it well. Exactly the right sort of traffic, nothing that would discourage them. Shit..we could probably bait a trap for them..*my mind races a million miles a minute, analyzing, about to go off in yet another direction but I snap myself out of it, chuckling to myself, as I regain my focus. I know the faster we get everything in place, the sooner we’ll be able to have some play time with the trainees* The pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training in just a few weeks. Let’s set up some interviews with contracters..we probably should tell @Wrath_BDBRW we are spending some money..oh yeah..and the other Brothers…*pulls up my database of civilian contractors, ready to spend some time, scheming with @Butch_BDBRW. We only have an hour before we have to go teach a class*   #CopAndHisBigIdeas #BDBRW

[xoxojustbreathe]

They come and they go.

“Some people pass through our lives in a shorter time frame than we had hoped, to teach us things that they could've never taught if they stayed.”

                                                      Christopher.

                 I don’t know where to start with you Christopher.                    I miss FaceTiming you.                      I miss when you’d sing to me.                         I miss our late night conversations.                           I miss that night when I couldn’t talk when you wanted to                               face time me so instead you just talked, you told me your                                 whole life story and just let me listen.                                    You were the first person that I let in in a long time                                       You were the first person I let call me and that I actually                                          spoke to and or face timed. That was a huge step for                                              me because I’d always had such terrible anxiety                                                over phone calls.                                                   May 7th of 2015 is when you dm’d me on                                                     instagram and it was like midnight and we                                                         we ended up talking until like 4am.                                                          you casually asked if I wanted to hear you                                                             sing for real and I said sure.                                                              Without hesitation. and usually I’d be like                                                                 freaking out in my head about talking                                                                    on the phone but I didn’t.                                                                    And I was completely calm about it.                                                                      and so we ended up texting and you                                                                        were so sweet about it.                                                                         I absolutely loved hearing you sing                                                                            your voice was really calming                                                                               to me.                                                                                and oh my god when I                                                                                  mentioned loving french and                                                                                   you just casually said                                                                                    something in french. My heart melted a little. and when we stopped talking for awhile then for some reason started again and you send me clips of some of your songs. You sent me two that you said nobody had ever heard and I felt so special. Those songs were all so beautiful. I still have the texts on my phone so I can listen to the songs. Even though we don’t really talk anymore and that sucks... I hope you’re happy and I hope things are looking up for you. I just miss you a lot.

You know what? scratch that. I don’t miss you. I’m mad at you honestly. You messaged me out of nowhere on Instagram (forget my number again?) showing me a screen shot of you FaceTiming Caleb Lovely and that’s super awesome and I’m super happy for you and the fact that you got him to book some shows in your hometown and he’s following you on Insta and everything.  That’s really cool honestly. But it hurts me that you haven’t spoken to me in months (and before that when I texted you from my new phone, same number you acted like you didn’t know who I was. You also apparently unfollowed me on Instagram. And probably snapchat too. And you know what? I’m bitter about it. I feel like I should forget you but I don’t think I can. I can’t forget the person that practically got me over my anxiety with talking on the phone.  I can’t forget the late nights when we FaceTimed. When you sang to me and played your guitar for me. I wish things could’ve stayed like that                 

                                                              Karthik.

                     We don’t talk much anymore since you got a non iPhone.                  we literally talked non stop for months.                     even when you didn’t have an iPhone and we talked over...                     viber or something like that.                      You’re my big bro. My Koala and your sis kitty misses you.             I know you’re busy with uni and lady koala.                  Every now and again you’ll message me on facebook but its just...       not the same for some reason. It hasn’t really been since you met lady koala. But you’re happy and that makes me happy. I just wish I could go back to 2012      when we had the craziest conversations and gushed over cats together. You helped me through a lot.            You sent me a lot of long texts that really meant a lot to me.        I actually even printed one out and have it on my wall beside my bed. Regardless if we talk or not, you’ll always be my big bro/koala and I’ll always be your sis kitty.

                                                          Braden. 

                                                      Spider Man.

I don’t know how to even start.       I’ve started so many posts trying to get my feelings for you out of my system. I posted one thing that I think you actually read, I tried to find it when I came across the texts talking about it but I couldn’t find it. I’ll look again eventually.     I don’t know with you. I need closure but I don’t know how to get it without actually showing up on your doorstep and kissing you, maybe slapping you. Maybe fucking you and then leaving.  I just don’t know Braden. You broke me. Which is incredibly stupid because we never even met in person.    I don’t know what I’m even saying.

Sometimes I think that our downfall was my fault.   That maybe if I hadn’t chickened out on talking to you on the phone... And ignored you for I don’t even remember how long.   Then maybe things wouldn’t have ended up like they did.

It seems like it’s turned into a game.

After I finally answered you and we got back to normal, I don’t remember what happened anymore honestly. I stopped talking to you for some reason and then you did it to me and now you just come around when you’re lonely and then you ghost me again and I just don’t get it. Why does it have to be like this?

Is it the distance?

Is it what happened in the beginning?

Because for awhile there we were really in love. Or as in love 15-16 year olds could be I suppose. But I really feel like whatever we had for that short period of time was real. Maybe it wasn’t to you.

But I don’t know. You talked about marriage and growing old a lot. You even practiced proposing. 

Maybe we were just stupid kids and I need to either get over all of it in general or I need to just message you and have a legitimate conversation with you for once rather than a late night snapchat booty call. 

I just have unfinished business with you and it bothers me.

You were my Spider-Man and I was your MJ.

You had an incredible impact on me, Braden.

I just wish things didn’t go so wrong and turn into what they did.

                                                         Vincent.

                  You broke my fucking heart.

        You were my first real love honestly. 

 And my first heartbreak.

  Even though we were only “together” 5 months? or maybe 6.      I don’t remember anymore honestly

           For a long time I was just really broken over the whole thing.  It was really shitty of you to just break up with me completely out of nowhere    and on Facebook on top of that. Not even a phone call.  (but at least you finally apologized for that and realized it was rotten of you)

    I was this weird mix of upset and mad when you started dating that blonde          cheerleader. The first time I saw it on Facebook I broke down crying.

  Fun times.

       Then I was just mad at you.

But then I got over the heartbreak and the anger and I just missed you.

  Not as a boyfriend but as a friend. You were the first person, other than my best friend that I actually clicked with. 

  You were I think probably the first person I ever really stayed up late texting     all night. On my little purple flip phone.

       I remember when we were together, after I was over there and spent the day with you and then you didn’t have a phone or whatever but        I somehow had my little flip phone set   up so it would receive my Facebook messages as texts so I could still     talk to you. 

           And there was this one time I rode in the car with my mom somewhere    and I was messaging you before I ran out of service when we went up     into the mountains and you were so worried about me on the ‘curvy mountain road’

    It was so cute honestly.

 I miss those days when everything was simple.

      After we broke up we didn’t speak at all.

Until one morning I hadn’t been to sleep and I was on Facebook scrolling through my newsfeed and I liked a status that you had recently posted.

   And then all of a sudden you messaged me.

       After five years. You messaged me and my heart started racing. 

 You still had the same impact on me that you had five years ago.

     And for a little while we kept talking.

 And you told me I was pretty and absolutely made my day.

    Other things were said also but I’m keeping those to myself.

     But then we stopped talking again and it made me sad.

  I still miss you, I really do.

     And I’d love to kiss you again. And do other things. But thats another story.

    I’m hoping maybe one day I’ll be in the same vicinity as you and we’ll meet up

and things will happen. I don’t know, maybe I’m just not thinking realistically but one can always hope.

    You never know what the future holds.

                                                             M.

I’m low key in love with you more than you could ever believe because we                could never possibly happen and that’s slightly heartbreaking but at the same   time I’m just happy to have you in my life in general. And even if we could and   did happen, if something happened and we weren’t friends anymore I’d be even    more heartbroken. So I’ll just be content with how things are now.

                                                           P.                                             I’m honestly mad at you.                But you make it so hard to be angry with you.                                     I understand that you’re busy and you forget to                        start conversations or finish them.                                But you lied. You said you were gonna be different                            from everyone else and you weren't.             But I still adore you even though you upset me.                           I wish I was that girl. She’s lucky to have your heart.          I’m happy you’re happy. You deserve it.

                                                              J.

                                           I wish we talked more.                            I wish it wasn’t just a text here and there.                              We had a good thing going on there for a bit.                           I miss you. I wish you were more of a constant thing in my life                      because I just really miss our odd conversations.              But I want your happiness of course, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t want you to be happy? Even if I’m not part of that equation.                                          So I wish you the best and hope that maybe                             just maybe we’ll be actual friends again one day.

    And that maybe I’ll show up one day and you can keep some of the promises you made, even if you did break them.