#anyways. back to my life outside of the computer screen.

[tamaharu]

i love it when a m/m genderswap -> f/f thing becomes kinda popular and then people are like why isnt there more of this f/f content :( idk. you could also try caring about actual female characters. just a suggestion?

[thetiredyuk]

tumblr cries and cries and cries again ill be inactive till i get my phone fixed oh nooooooooooourrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[neopuppy]

Saturday Drip (M)

Preview: “Can you believe while we were sitting swamp ass in misery— Jaemin was fucking my favorite cam girl?!” Jeno blurts out before his roommate can recall the actual events that took place.

“We didn’t do anything like that, but..” Jaemin takes in his friends intrigued stares, nervously mumbling. “She’s looking for Alphas..”

Renjun’s brows twist, inching closer with interest. “For what?”

“To film content.”

Pairing: alpha NCT Dream 00line x female omega reader

Word Count: 15k+

Genre: a/b/o AU, broke college boys, pure and utter filth, cnc(don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.), pwp, dom alphas, one shot(do not ask for a pt2😾)

Smut Warning: rough sex, breeding, knotting, rough oral(m/f), double penetration(both), choking, spit, squirting, praise/degradation, big mean alphas, camera use, manhandling, mind break, wet & messy etc

Playlist: Saturday Drip/NCT Dream, Big Ole Freak/Megan The Stallion, Super Freaky Girl/Nicki Minaj, Hi, I’m A Slut/Lil Mariko, Cyber Sex/Doja Cat, Sexxx Dreams/Lady Gaga

It’s hot, it’s way too hot. Sweats already begun to pool under Jeno’s back, limbs gone heavy stuck to his bed. It’s useless trying to get off when all he can focus on is the lack of cool air blowing out of the vent. Everything feels dry and musty around him making it impossible to even breathe peacefully.

The AC unit just had to break last night, again. Only an hour after he’d just rushed home from his shift at the gym. Opting to skip showering in the locker rooms after clocking out when his phone pinged with a new notification.

‘Riding an inflatable sybian, how long can I last?’

“Fuck.” Jeno mumbles to himself, quickly grabbing his belongings. He’d just rinse off real fast once he gets home. It’s gonna be a long night anyway. Not in the way he’d imagined with his palm wrapped around his cock, edging himself for hours on end in front of a computer screen.

It’s not as if he has a paper due on Monday, prioritizing his favorite Omega fucking a sex machine over his grades without question or worry. He paid for a monthly subscription for good reason. It’s not like it’s his goal in life was to be a nutritionist anyway. Most of his time in class was spent on daydreaming of how he could just fuck his way to success and fortune instead.

Not that this had anything to do with the amount of porn acquiring his desktop, or the hours he wasted away watching obscene videos. If only his essay was about how to properly eat ass.

“Hey.” Jaemin greets him upon entering. Standing in front of the open freezer door with sweat trickling down his bobbing throat.

“Dude what the fuck? It’s disgusting in here.” Jeno can’t stand the heat. Having to psyche himself out to believe he didn’t just stand too close to multiple bodies in a hot subway cart. Ignoring hot breath reaching his neck as he stood taller than those around him making his journey home all the more uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” closing the freezer door, Jaemin lays his torso on the kitchen counter sluggishly. “Pretty sure the air conditioning broke, again. I called up Mark to let him know. He said no one can come fix it until Monday.”

“Last time he said that, no one came for three weeks!” Jeno exclaims, ripping open the fridge for a frozen water bottle to rub on his sweltering skin. “Jaem, I can’t live like this! It’s over 100 degrees outside.”

“I know, trust me. I’ll keep badgering him, alright?” Jaemin sighs. Already drained of energy he needs to get through the rest of the evening.

“I have to get going, you can use my fan for now.” Jaemin offers, using paper towels to dab away sweat before heading out. Knowing he’ll be dripping in it with a heavy bag of camera equipment on his back.

“Where are you going?” Jeno’s already removing his clothes. Jamein mumbling for him to not plaster his wet naked ass to their couch.

“I got a gig finally, I should be back late.” Hauling on his equipment he waves a ‘later’ before stepping out. Head tilting up curiously as he hears shouting.

“Answer me you fucking piece of shit!!”

“Dude what happened to you? Why are you drenched?” Jaemin pauses mid-walk. Adjusting the camera gear weighing on his shoulders as he spots Renjun on the phone outside of his apartment.

“A pipe busted above my room! There’s a huge leak in my closet!” Renjun’s frantic, arm waving around behind him as he explains. “And our fucking AC isn’t working! Again!”

“Oh my God, I’d tell you to crash at mine but ours isn’t working either!” Jaemin sighs, shaking his head. “We need to move out of this shit hole.”

“Tell me about it!” Renjun groans, slamming a thumb down on his phone to hang up. “Haechan’s gonna be so pissed off when he gets home. He’s been working overtime today cause we’re short on rent again.”

“We pay way too much to live in this crap, just because it’s a mile away from SNU.” Jaemin says with a roll of his eyes. “So much for college being the best years of our lives.”

“That’s high school,” Renjun corrects, waving him off. “I have to check on the leak. Catch you later man.”

Nodding to his friend Jaemin continues toward the exit. Passing the broken elevator that Mark claimed would get fixed 5 months ago, never once spotting a maintenance person in sight.

Out of desperation he ended up searching for freelance photographer jobs. Weddings required too much experience, editorials asking for examples of work and complete portfolios.

It felt hopeless until he landed on an ad seeking someone with less experience. Specifically stating they wouldn’t mind an intern level type who is still in the process of learning. Wishing for more ‘gritty’ and ‘real’ photography that can pass off as homemade.

‘Must be comfortable with full nudity and sex acts. You will be shooting and filming content for my xxx website. 21+ with ID proof and examples of your work. Contact me directly via email to set up a time.’

Jaemin decided to neglect mentioning that part to his roommate. It was either this or he’d be short on rent like his next door neighbors’ current struggle. Knowing Jeno he’d hear ‘pornographic content’ and ask to tag along as his assistant for the day. Casually joking about how he could fuck better than the Alphas in video links shared through their group chats.

‘I guess if I’m ever desperate enough for money I’d do it. My dicks big enough.’

Jaemin always thought his friend was too brash for saying such ridiculous things nonchalantly.

He could never have anticipated reaching that level of desperation himself mere hours later.

He’s not sure what to think as he stands in your bedroom. Struggling to process a thought while you continue explaining your field of work, tossing different sets of colorful lingerie onto a king-size bed decorated like something straight out of a home decor magazine.

“We don’t have to take the photos in my room, I’m open to whatever you’re thinking.”

“Oh, yeah yeah..” he nods, taking in the lacey sheer frilly garments splayed out before him. Glancing between the heavy sweats and hoodie you have pulled on covering any bit of scandalous flesh.

Of course you’re covered up, with cool icy air filling the room, silently blasting from a vent above. The sweat pouring off his skin immediately evaporated after being welcomed inside. “What type of theme did you want to stick with?”

“Hmm,” swinging a stringy pair of panties around your index finger, your head tilts thoughtfully. “Summer? I guess baby oil, suns out buns out type of vibe.”

Jaemin clears his throat, twisting his eyebrows up asking if he can take a look through your drawers. “Do you have ice cream by chance?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Flavor?”

“Strawberry popsicles, I think I have some Vanilla Bean too. Are you hungry?”

Turning back to face you, he holds up a two piece micro white bikini. “I have an idea, I’m thinking out on the balcony would be best.”

Jaemin’s very professional considering the lack of experience on his resume. He asks permission before touching anything, double checks that you’re comfortable with any of his suggestions. For an Alpha, he’s kept cool and collected, even as you start to disrobe. The bathing suit he handpicked doing little to nothing to subside less than pure thoughts from unraveling. He gulps, forcing himself to focus on pretending to set the camera up.

Suddenly he was beginning to understand why Jeno’s been dropping absurd amounts of money to jerk off to your content.

“Is this okay?”

His eyes drag up slowly, from your manicured white painted toenails, up the expanse of glistening oiled up skin leading to your pressed together thighs where a miniature triangle shape conceals nothing in-between.

“Uhh..” he salivates, lapping at the roof of his mouth like a thirsty dog.

“Jaemin?” Your tone changes from one of concern to amusement, continuing to spritz your hair with water for a wet summer look.

“You look great.” He nods rapidly, quickly averting his attention to your chest jiggling beneath two tied together triangles with each movement you make. “Sorry, was just a little surprised.”

“You must be mated?”

Jaemin blinks, taken aback by your forwardness, shaking his head before words can exit his dry tongue. “Not at all, why would you think that?”

“Oh, you’re well-mannered, for an Alpha.” You note, shrugging and gesturing to the deck area. “How should I pose?”

“Let’s get some close-up shots first.” Jaemin directs you to catch sunlight draping streams of golden rays across your face. Half shadowed and lit up by the natural light. Instructing you to slowly unwrap one popsicle and take your time to suck on it.

“I think you’ll really like these.” The click click of his camera continues, zooming in to capture your lips pouting around sugary red liquid dripping down under the heat of your mouth paired with hot weather. “Let it spill.”

Growing confident with his position, Jaemin motions for you to hold the popsicle above your parted lips, allowing the treat to pour down your throat. The majority of it missing, staining white lycra fabric stretched over your breasts.

“You’re getting hot right?” He switches to record, nodding to the lounge chair for you to sit on. “Cooling off with a popsicle?”

“Mhmm”

Jaemin stays silent, capturing the wet droplets of red passing down your abdomen to land between your thighs. He lets you pose lewdly, tracing the popsicle down to melt against your bikini bottoms, lighting up hot where your cores melted the fabric to you like a second skin.

“I’m so hot, Alpha.” Hazy eyes and a tempting tone mesmerize the man behind the camera, sinking down to squat and zoom in on slick gushing out onto your spread inner thighs. “Need you to cool me off.”

You rub the popsicle up and down, pushing against the crease that's melted into your dripping wet slit. The red dye used in the treat leaves a stain of sweetness on your bottoms. The white bleeding out into a pink the more it melts, left to wither down to nothing but a wooden stick with a phrase that reads “Today is your lucky day!” hidden under the frozen liquid that’s altered your swimsuit.

Jaemin clenches his teeth to contain a muffled curse. Twitching inside the confinement of his jeans as you arch up higher, pushing your chest up. Round mounds call to his tongue, sticky and wet from oils and sweat.

“Hmm, no I was thinking more like..” The Alpha seems more heated now, possibly from the sweltering heat burning down on your backs. Possibly from the close proximity or the obscene positions you’ve fallen into under his command. He scoops two digits into the tub of melted Vanilla ice cream, lifting them to your lips to lap at. Camera shutters sound as your tongue swirls, sucking some of the sweetness while the rest trickles out pouring down your chin to your exposed chest.

“That’s good,” he whispers, scooping more to dribble down your cheeks and breasts. Watery white cream creates a more lewd image, paired with heavy eyelids shielding your seductive gaze.

“Tell me what to do, Alpha.”

“Turn around.” He instructs, nodding in approval when you get onto all fours and crane your neck for more direction. You’re a natural, he thinks, propped with your ass up at a perfect angle. The sun hitting just right to define the dip in your back and heady gaze staring back at him.

Jaemin can’t believe it when his free hand reaches for the tub of ice cream, pouring the remnants down to land in globs on your buttcheeks. The indecency in front of him feels like a punch to his gut, having to snap photos of the cream trickling down the back of your thighs. The sight before him more pornographic and delicious than he can fully process.

He croaks for you to spread, losing his cool demeanor as your knees slide further apart, playing with the thin strings on your hips. The flossy material cuts between the meat adorning your hips and backside, squishing the shiny delicacy displayed.

“Alpha..” you breathe, falling to your side to give him a full visual of your body lines. Dips and curves shadowed like art with sun rays sliding across your skin.

Jaemin debates with himself, thoughts spiraling that you could just be acting, or you could actually be calling for him to do something. To make the first move, to touch you where you begin to part and show off glistening slick dripping down to the backs of your thighs.

“You’re doing really good.” He swallows, mercilessly throbbing inside of his boxers. “How far are you—..”

He drawls off, following the pathway your digits make between your covered folds. Chest rising and falling rapidly as more sweat sprinkles down from the back of his neck to pool at the dips on his lower back.

“Alpha.”

Jaemin thinks he’s imagining your saccharine vocals whining for him, each letter passing through his ears like dry cotton. Snapping out of it as the heel of your foot nudges his knee, trailing up to rest your toes just where his pants have begun to tent out.

“Uhhh..”

“Alpha, I’m so hot.” You tease, sucking sticky ice cream residue off your fingers. “Won’t you cool me down?”

He wonders what his breaking point will be, fingers shaking around his camera more and more with each photo snapped.

“We’re losing light.” He mutters to save his ass, biting at the back of his tongue to prevent himself from getting fired by unleashing the amount of impure thoughts racing through his mind.

“Do you need a ride home?” Sitting up, your demeanor swaps in an instance, returning to the relaxed mood you had prior to the shoot.

Jaemin’s breath lodges, head shaking as he swiftly adjusts his shirt to hang lower before his crotch before standing up. “All good, no worries.”

“I’m a mess.” You laugh, sporting an expression of disgust while swiping a towel up and down your arms. “Are you sure? I can call you a cab.”

Jaemin refuses to meet your gaze, too embarrassed with his cheeks lit aflame by heat and mortification. He waves breezily, beginning to pack up his belongings. “No worries, I don’t live too far.”

He’s lying, and dreading the long journey back home that will drain his the minimal energy he has left with this humid heat.

“Here, I’ll grab you some water bottles to take for the trip.”

He keeps calm, situating his fully hardened length beneath the hem of his jeans when you turn away. Covering that he’d begin editing tonight and send you the final products as soon as possible.

“Get home safe.” You smile, reaching out to pinch his cheek. “If any Omega catches you sporting wood on the subway, they’ll have you arrested for being such a pervert.”

Jaemin’s cheeks burn bright red with his hand stilling in the air to wave goodbye. A girlish laugh follows as you wave him goodbye and close your door to shower off the remnants of sweet ice cream sticking to your skin. The image of big round eyes full of lust paint the back of your mind, memorizing thick fingers smearing a treat on your chin.

“These turned out great.”

Jaemin’s back, pep talking himself up on the way over to your place to stay cool. Money’s on the line here.

“I really like your style.” You say, browsing through the photos Jaemin took of you yesterday. Too distracted to give you his full attention as he once again admires your absurdly large fully furnished penthouse.

“You even have a PS5..” he mumbles under his breath. Tugging tufts of thick black hair through his fingers trying to calculate just how small his shared apartment is in comparison.

“Oh yeah, a subscriber sent me that,” you wave off like it’s not big deal. Choosing the best shots to use for a new set only your top tier fans would be able to immediately view.

Jaemin can feel his heart drop down to his gut, nearly losing his footing. “You didn’t even have to pay for that?! There’s no way you can afford all of this from just doing Omega fans!”

Snickering, you wink at him, nodding to a stack of packages waiting to be delivered. “Of course not, merch is where the real money comes from.”

“Merch?? Wha—“

“Oh you know, worn underwear, bottles of slick, a mold of my pus—“

“WHAT?” Jaemin has to laugh, pushing hair completely away from his forehead as the skin wrinkles down the middle. In disbelief that Alphas could really be this desperate. As if his best friend isn’t one of the many dropping money every month just to ruin and discard another innocent tube sock.

“It’s a lucrative career, believe it or not.”

“Respectfully, like, ballpark..”

“$90-100k every month.” You inform him eagerly. “Already planned my early retirement.”

“A MONTH?” Jaemin sits back landing against one of the stools lined up by your kitchen island. Hearing those numbers made his head spin, shocked enough to wonder how Alphas could be this stupid. How his own best friend is one of them. “How much do your highest patreons get charged monthly?”

“Highest tier is $100, you catch more bears with honey.”

Jaemin’s eyes bulge, gripping onto the counter ledge, seething between his teeth. “Jeno.”

“Jeno?”

He grunts, gripping hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. “My friend, he’s one of your subscribers.”

“Hmm..is he cute???” You ask, amused by the Alpha in front of you losing his professional composure.

“Uh,” Jaemin snaps, shaking his head, trying to calculate how much money his roommate has dropped on your website for the last two years. “God we could have a better A/C unit..”

Looking up at your lost stare, he shakes his head again, waving a hand and standing up. “Yeah, I guess he’s cute, for a freaking idiot.”

“Maybe you can bring him over next time.” You say, cocking a brow suggestively.

Jaemin pauses, reaching to pack up his camera bag. “Next time?”

“See,” moving closer, you take a hold of his wrist. “My fans, they have requests.. but it’s been hard to find attractive young Alphas I can trust.”

“What type of requests?” Jaemin sits back down, crossing his arms. The white short sleeve t-shirt he’s wearing struggles to contain his biceps. Growing stronger and thicker after hauling around heavy camera equipment everyday.

“I have a high roller, ironically a CEO of a well known heat suppressant company.” You start to explain, snorting at the job title. “He’s been begging for months to make this specific content during my heat.”

“Right, and what exactly is he asking for?”

“Just your run of the mill Alpha gangbang.” You say nonchalantly, making the Alpha sat before you splutter.

“What?!?”

“He’s offered to pay $100,000.” You nod. Jaemin has to gulp, head spinning again in disbelief that anyone could be that horny.

“That’s insane.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Sighing, Jaemin shrugs contemplating if anyone would pay for naked photos of him in obscene positions. “My roommate would probably film that with you for free.”

“I’d pay you, of course..” you say, tilting your head curiously to observe his next reaction. Met with a pair of wide shocked eyes, he babbles, laughing awkwardly.

“Me?!” Jaemin’s laugh grows in pitch, slowly losing volume the more he thinks about it. “..how much?”

“How much do you want? I’m willing to negotiate.”

“That’s..” he huffs, blinking in disbelief. “You’re joking right? Just messing around with me?”

“Not at all, Alpha,” with a sneaking grin, you click the camera next to him to turn on. Shifting closer once the red light brightens up, the lense moves around letting out sounds as it focuses on your figures. “We can start slow..”

Jaemin gulps, feeling the proximity between your lower regions grow sparse. Returning to grip onto the ledge of the island at his side where the camera sits capturing just enough of your lips and chests. Inching closer together as you straddle his lap and drape your arms over his broad shoulders.

He gulps to calm the tremor running through his throat, unused to an Omega making the first move. “Me? Y-you want to film content with me??”

“Depends,” you settle onto his lap with a smirk. Easing closer until your crotch presses directly where he’s began to grow. “How much?”

Jaemin shivers, choking on a trail of spit lodged at the back of his mouth. You had already paid him more than enough for some amateur photos taken around your place with little to no effort from himself.

But the prospect of thousands of dollars entering his bank account from only sleeping with a very attractive Omega is more than enough to entice him. Nodding, he mumbles a number without confidence. Reminding himself in the back of his mind that a few thousand dollars can’t be more than mere chump change to you.

“Sounds good.”

Jaemin grabs onto your hips when you agree to the amount. Canting upward to bounce you against the bulge pushing through the seam of his jeans.

Jeno was going to kill him.

“Jeno?” Jaemin steps inside of his boiling hot apartment, kicking off his shoes to a pile with his roommates. The low brrr from his fan sounds, coming from the other Alphas bedroom. “He seriously better not have left that on, running up the damn electric bill as if we need that.”

Jaemin doesn’t expect to find his friend hunched over at his computer, headphones hanging on his neck with wide eyes blaring at the screen before him. “Oh, you’re home.”

“Traitor!” Jeno snaps, lunging up at his roommate, toppling over his gaming chair in the process.

“Jeno! What the fuck! Get off of me!” Jaemin scrambles, his grip slipping off the other Alphas soaked skin. He grunts, pressing his knee into the others firm abdominal muscles to keep him in place.

“You fucked my favorite Omega?!”

“Oh my god! She uploaded it already??” Jaemin’s speechless, caught off guard by the news momentarily enough to receive a slap across his face.

“I can’t believe you!”

“We didn’t fuck! Get off of me!”

“No!” Jeno slaps him again, tussling back and forth on the ground until Jaemin manages to get the upper hand and lock him in place with his bicep lodged against his neck.

“If you kill me, you’ll never get to meet her.”

Jeno’s head lifts, ears perking up like a puppy hearing a can of food begin to open. “What?!”

“Are you going to calm down now, pup?” Jaemin sneers, pushing off using the back of his hand to wipe away sweat that's pouring from his forehead.

Jeno groans, pushing to stand back up, he motions to the screen where a video showing the side of his roommate’s face has been paused. “How did this happen!”

“She hired me to photograph her.” Jaemin begins to explain, rubbing at his sweaty nape. “I don’t know, okay? But..”

His gaze skirts between Jeno and the screen. “Did you watch it already?”

“I was about to! Until I saw your fucking giant teeth show up, was like a nightmare. I had to stop the video before it could get any worse.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, sitting on the edge of Jeno’s bed. “Don’t be so dramatic. Could you play it? I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I probably look so stupid..”

Jeno clicks his tongue annoyed, setting his chair back into place to get comfortable. “Unfortunately you don’t. Your dick looks huge too.”

Jaemin smirks, flicking the shell of Jeno’s ear. “Thought you didn’t watch it, liar.”

“I can’t believe this!” Jeno exclaims, clicking the video to play again.

“We didn’t even fuck.” Jaemin leans closer with elbows on his knees. “Honestly it felt so fast, I can’t believe I did that.”

Jeno continues to badger his friend with questions, ripping at his hair as the video goes on. The last thing he expected to see was a familiar face when he got the notification of a new upload featuring your Alpha neighbor assisting you through your pre-heat.

“God, she’s so hot.” Jeno groans, slamming the back of his head against the cushion, one of his hands sneaking beneath the waistband of his shorts out of Jaemin’s line of sight. Too caught up in the video playing to even notice.

It should feel weird to watch himself, to watch you touching him. To see the nervous way his throat bobs up and down the closer you lean in, bumping the tip of his nose with yours as you whisper too quietly for him to not feel nervous.

‘The Alpha next door stopped by,’ you announce for the viewers, toying with Jaemin’s shirt off screen.

“Pft..” Jeno huffs under his breath, squinting at the way you bat your eyelashes toward Jaemin. Flirting with him by giggling, tapping your nails against his jaw on the way to pinch his chin. Falling into a syrupy pretty octave the more you taunt him by repeating ‘Alpha Alpha Alpha’.

Should’ve been me, he thinks, thumbing at the precum that’s filled up his slit.

Jaemin’s undeserving, he doesn’t even know what you want, how you like it. Jeno eyes the kitchen counter, imagining how fast he would have bent you over, tugging on his length eagerly. The gasp you let out as you grind down on Jaemin repeats loudly in his thoughts.

Jaemin’s squirming, ashamed by how stunned he appears on video, too wanton and helpless for an Alpha who should have been taking more control. He let you play with him like a toy, rolling your hips back onto his lap to gain a full erection prodding into your backside.

‘So big Alpha.’

“Can’t believe she fucked you.”

Jaemin clears his throat, swiping his palm across the puffy bulge forming between his thighs. “We didn’t, yet..”

“You won’t.” Jeno says more brazenly, teeth slicing his bottom lip in an attempt to control his rage from toppling over. “You know how much I like her.”

“You and hundreds of thousands of other Alphas.”

“Whatever. Can’t fucking believe this.” Jeno groans, letting out a long dramatic sigh. “My dicks getting soft from watching this, I don’t think I can forgive you for this one.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, letting out a sound of disgust when his friend wipes off his palm on his thigh. “You’re gonna wanna hear me out, and also owe me for this.”

“I doubt it.”

“She asked about you.”

Jeno’s head snaps to attention at that, just in time to miss Jaemin’s grunts passing from his computer speakers. “What??”

“I mentioned that you’re a fan.” Jaemin cringes at the visual of himself on a big screen reaching climax. His face rolling side to side on your shoulder, panting like some teenager experiencing their first rut. The blush on his cheeks high, making its way up to his earlobes burning red. Cumming without penetration like some horny pup, the number of viewers over 60,000 already after only an hour up.

“And?!?”

Jeno’s excited bounce snaps him out of his humility— reminding him that his roommate would have paid for an opportunity like this.

“She asked if any of my friends would be interested.”

“Oh my God!!” Jeno stands up, jumping in place as if he just received the best news ever— in his case, he probably just did. “Oh my God! No! You don’t understand!!”

The dark haired Alpha begins to pace, gathering tufts of hair with blown out pupils. “I’ve dreamt about this for so long! I did this! This is happening because of me!”

Jaemin sports a bored look, listening to his roommate ramble on about how he always knew he’d end up fucking you, he just didn’t know how or when, until now.

“That’s great dude, I guess. I’ll text her, but please do not mention that you’ll be more than happy to do this for free. We need the mo—“

Knocks boom from the entrance distracting the two from continuing their conversation.

“Hey! Open up! This tub of ice is heavy!”

“It’s Haechan.” Jeno announces, unlocking the front door to the miserable expressions his neighbors dawn. “Sup?”

“Let us use your fan? We offer bags of ice.”

They end up huddled seated on the floor complaining about how badly they all need to figure out how to either make more money, or move out.

“Maybe the four of us could split a mortgage for a house.” Renjun mewls over rubbing his chin. “A house with central air ideally.”

Jaemin eyes the three Alphas surrounding him, a melancholic desperation to enjoy their short days of summer left drags their lips down, frowns paired with desperation to do anything to better their situations.

It’s almost too perfect.

Jeno’s hunched over, sharp eyebrows never loosening up, licking at the corners of his mouth annoyed.

“Can you believe while we were sitting swamp ass in misery— Jaemin was fucking my favorite cam girl?!” Jeno blurts out before his roommate can recall the actual events that took place.

“We didn’t do anything like that, but..” Jaemin takes in his friends intrigued stares, nervously mumbling. “She’s looking for Alphas..”

Renjun’s brows twist, inching closer with interest. “For what?”

“To film content.”

Haechan pours another bag of ice into the bucket they’ve plotted before a fan, huddled together too close for comfort, occasionally brushing sticky skin against sticky skin. The cool breeze only enough to prevent them from overheating while still secreting sweat as they hold up personal fans to their faces and suck on half-melted Icee slushies.

“Content?” He raises a messy eyebrow, speaking into the spinning fan to alter his voice. “Doesn’t she do porn?”

“Jeno’s a big fan, must be good.” Renjun adds.

“Jeno is a horny dog,” Jaemin scoffs, ignoring the upset gasp his best friend releases. “I mean, I understand why he pays.”

“I pay and somehow you are the one getting a handjob..” Jeno mutters, more than annoyed still. Despite his anger, he still watched the video you posted with Jaemin a few more times. “She only fucks Alphas with notoriously big dicks. Should have been me.”

“Mine’s bigger than yours anyway.” Jaemin laughs, licking away sweat from his upper lip. “Listen, I know you guys are all as strapped for cash as I am.”

“Cash? Oh, I’m listening.” Haechan interrupts, tugging on the ring of his collar that’s dampened nastily with sweat.

“When you say notoriously big..” Renjun drawls, leaning back against a wall, pushing his hand-held fan beneath his shirt. “How big is big?”

“Bigger than you shrimp shit.” Jeno jeers, clicking his tongue arrogantly. “I seriously need to quit this college shit, I could make bank doing Alpha fans.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, too drained by the heat to put up a fight. “You’re a baboon.”

“Whatever.” Jeno ignores his name calling with a dreamy look in his eyes. “The first time I stumbled into one of her streams, she was testing out how fat of a knot she could take.”

Haechan’s head lifts suddenly more intrigued by this topic. “…..well?”

“I’ve never seen an Omega take a knot like her, ever.” He confirms, boasting about how your streams are always at the top of the Omega fans charts. “The coins never stop pouring in when she goes live. She’s always in the top 0.1% on Omega fans, I like to think my monthly subscription helps.”

“This is bullshit.” Jaemin cuts him off. “Look, I made enough in two days to cover 3 months of rent. If we help her out I think.. we could leave this shithole complex. I’m tired of these excuses for why maintenance can’t fix our ancient A/C units.”

“I’d do it for free.” Jeno says, earning a smack to the back of his head from Renjun.

“That’s why you are a baboon.”

“I’m in.” Haechan nods. “I can’t survive another summer like this, I can’t even do another week of this.”

“I mean..” Renjun grimaces. “Like, full nude? My whole dick out?”

Jaemin snaps his fingers for Jeno to whip out his phone, the four proceeding to watch the clip you made with the Alpha as their jaws hang to the floor.

“Oh, I’m so in.”

Jeno’s been running around like a puppy full of life, hopping into the air kicking his feet together letting out high pitched squeals.

“I even shaved my sack for this!” He exclaims, gripping onto Jaemin’s shoulders on their trek out of the subway station.

“Were we supposed to do that?” Haechan asks, taking a look at his worn down raggedy clothing. “I thought the idea was supposed to be.. we’re broke college guys.”

“That is the idea.” Jaemin answers, directing his group of friends into an upscale neighborhood decorated with lively tall trees and blooming gardens. “It’s all an act, we’re supposed to be her ‘neighbors’…and she’s this innocent sweet Omega who we take advantage of during her heat.”

Haechan bites back a smile nudging into his side, thoughts running rampant. “That’s hot.”

“No fucking way, is this seriously where she lives?” Renjun’s neck practically breaks from leaning back to take in the giant building towering before them.

“Yup, high-rise penthouse overlooking Seoul. The lifestyle horny idiot Alphas provide.” Jaemin glares at Jeno who beams with the brightest smile engulfing his eyes.

“She deserves all of it, and more.” Letting out a dreamy sigh he follows along to where Jaemin has to check-in at the front concierge to be allowed further inside. The four confirming their identification before passing along to the elevators.

“This is insane, I couldn’t even sleep last night, and when I can’t sleep, I jerk off!” Jeno complains in the lift. “But I didn’t want to waste— you know! So I ended up tossing and turning all night.”

“You’re worse than those kpop fans that follow around idols and trainees.” Renjun accuses, feeling jittery still about stripping down to nothing to hook-up with a stranger for thousands of viewers, maybe even millions. “This is my lowest low, and you’re about to cum in your pants.”

“I think you lowest low was popping your first knot in Science class when we learned about Omega anatomy.” Haechan grins. “You can’t live that down.”

“Shut up!” Renjun whines, the elevator dinging to upon reaching your floor. The three Alphas stare at the opened doors, gulping in unison before Jaemin signals for them to follow his lead.

“I would say don’t be nervous but,” he shakes, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’m fucking nervous right now.”

“Dude! You can’t be nervous! What about us?!” Haechan bemoans, gesturing to the three hiding behind the blond Alphas broad frame.

“Think about the money.” Renjun nods, reapplying chapstick to his lips that can’t seem to retain enough moisture. “This hallway alone has more square footing than our apartments combined.”

“Think about the pus—!” Jeno starts to holler, stopping in his tracks as the front door they stand before opens up revealing a face that’s become deeply ingrained in his mind. “Holy shit.”

Jaemin’s eyes shut, smiling and lifting a hand to greet you, internally cursing. “That would be your loyal subscriber.”

“Wow,” leaning against the door frame, you take in the new faces in front of you. The three sporting similar expressions with their jaws hung loose, wide-eyed and breathless. “You didn’t mention that they’re all so cute.”

Jaemin grins, motioning to his friends. “This is Haechan, Renjun, and Jeno, or as you know us, miserable sweaty Alphas willing to do a lot for money.”

“How much is a lot?” You ask slyly, purposely dressed down with a pair of loose sweats on and a loose top to play up a relaxed stay-at-home look for the filming.

“I’ll do anything!” Jeno blurts, slapping a palm over his mouth. “I mean.. my limits are very low.”

“Funds too.” Renjun whispers.

“Understood.” Standing straight, you hold up an index finger. “There is one thing, my funders have a common request. Come on in and we’ll see if you guys fit the criteria.”

The criteria: no one under 9 inches.

Haechan’s throat bobs reading over the contract you’ve printed four copies of. Rubbing his nape that feels cold from sitting in a room with blowing cool air. “I have to admit, I’ve never measured..”

“I have!” Jeno licks at his canines cockily, biting off the cap of a pen to spit off to the side. “11 inches long, and thicker than a bowl of oatmeal.”

“Wait wait!” You laugh, pulling out your phone to speed-dial your highest roller. “Need you guys to show me what you’re working with before we can sign off.”

Renjun’s eyes round, sticking halfway out of their sockets. “Like, right now??”

“Now or never.” Pointing the camera to face them, you nod for them to go on.

Jeno’s the first to jump to his feet, already half mass confined in a well fitted pair of black sweats. “I have nothing to lie about.”

True to his word, he pushes his boxers and sweats beneath his upper thigh in one fell swoop. His length falls free slapping onto the cotton fabric underneath , jerking mid-air, the fat pink tip darkening the longer he sits and waits to live out his wildest dreams.

“Very good.” A low deep voice emits from your phone’s speaker. “Bigger than the blond even.”

Jaemin’s head snaps up at that, squinting while sneaking a look to his side with an annoyed pout. “That’s not true!”

“The other two.” Says the voice, clearly coming from a male.

Haechan shares a pleading look with Renjun, moving to stand, waiting for the other to do the same. Huffing out a deep sigh, he hoists himself up sluggishly, tugging on the strings dangling in front of his groin.

“Well..” Haechan shrugs, smiling timidly as he unzips and draws himself out with a stroke at his soft size “I’m a grower..”

Renjun’s cheeks puff out, repeating money money money in his mind as he squeezes his eyes shut and pulls his length free.

“They can stay. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself too much.” The Alpha hiding on your phone screen chuckles. “Can’t wait to see what they do with you.”

Hanging up after hearing the approval, you hide a smile behind your hand taking in Renjun up and down. “Cute.”

“Did you just call my dick cute?!” He squawks, frazzled as he tucks himself away.

“You are really cute!” Haechan intervenes, throwing an arm around his roommate's shoulders, whispering ‘money’ with a pointed glare.

“The idea is that I’m in pre-heat,” you motion carelessly, beginning to stretch your limbs where you’re seated. “That’s the idea, but I actually am in pre-heat, so it works out great.”

“Oh, that’s..” Jaemin collects the signed contracts, gnawing on his upper lip. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Shrugging, you wave him off. “Don’t worry about it, I might get a little..”

Jeno’s practically salivating the more you continue to talk, all too familiar with how crazed and desperate for Alpha cock you get during your heats. His fingertips burn from rubbing up and down his thighs like a maniac, slurping at the drool gathering at the sides of his tongue. An overwhelming sensation of dizziness and lust replaces any semblance of sense as he sits across from you.

“Jeno?” Jaemin snaps his fingers, breaking the Alpha from his mesmerized trance. “Come on.”

“What??”

“I have to start setting up, were you not listening?”

“Uhh..” Jeno looks lost, flushed from the tip of his nose down to his pink chewed lips, causing Jaemin to grunt and grab on to the other to drag him out of the room.

“She’s gonna start with Haechan and Renjun first.” He reiterates, smiling to himself. “Because they’re smaller.”

Renjun fumed when you felt the need to mention that, pinching at Haechan’s forearm to control his temper. Humiliation that thousands of strangers would be watching him bare ass already had him regretting agreeing to this, now even more with you mocking his size for not being big enough.

“Should we step out then?” Haechan gestures toward the entrance, smoothing out the wrinkles on his t-shirt nervously. Everything becoming much more real now that he’s seconds away from hooking up with a stranger— not that this would be his first time, but on camera suddenly made things feel much more high-stress and real.

“Yeah, why don’t you guys show up saying your air conditioners not working.” You suggest, turning on the various cameras you have around your apartment for weekly live streams. “Don’t worry about acting really, it’s not that serious.”

Renjun follows after his friend, shifting about anxiously, muttering that he can’t stop the tremors running through his hands.

“We have sex all the time.” Haechan says, furrowing his eyebrows. “Okay, we have had sex. Maybe not a lot. Don’t think too hard, she’s an attractive Omega close to her heat, and I’m here..”

Renjun nods, rapping his knuckles against the door with a deep shaky breath.

“Hey?” You answer, ruffling your hair with a groggy look as if you’ve just woken up.

“Oh! Hey!” Haechan utters, waving awkwardly. “Hope we didn’t wake you! Our air stopped working a bit ago.”

“That’s terrible, it’s so hot out.” You groan, faking a yawn, tugging on the collar of your t-shirt to play up how hot you feel even inside of your chilly quarters. Renjun observes how well you fall into the ditzy cute innocent Omega you must portray on camera for your fans, pouting and whining at the end of each word like a petulant little brat.

“You think we can crash with you while the maintenance team works on it?” Renjun cocks an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leans against your door frame.

“Ah, it’s kind of..” words stumble out alternating between whiny sounds as you attempt to think up an excuse. “I—….okay..”

Spinning on your heel, you offer them something to drink as they situate in your living room, seated on the couch they’d filled out their contracts at. “Thanks!” Haechan calls out, picking up a remote to scroll through the TV guide for something to watch.

Renjun glances back and forth suspiciously, his nose twitching, falling into character with more ease than he’d envisioned to be able to. “Hey, is it just me or she..”

“Oh, she definitely is.” Haechan says confidently, setting an arm behind his head with a grin pinching at his lips. “Why else do you think she hesitated to let us come in?”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

The two share a sneaking look, settling at opposite ends of the couch to leave you with no choice but to sit between them when you show up with a tray of beverages.

“Oh..”

Neither seem interested in your presence, both lazily sprawled against the arm rests with their focus on the tv.

“Wanna play Mario Kart?” Haechan asks, throwing the remote aside. “Nothing to watch.”

“You guys can play..” you sigh, eyeing the small space you’ve been left with to sit between the two Alphas. Stuffy and cramped as you adjust to seat without trying to touch either of them.

“Nah, Renjun’s a sore loser. He complains way too much because I always win.” Haechan mumbles, holding one of the controllers out for you. “I’m sure you’ll be good.”

“What if I lose?”

The browns coloring Haechan’s iris gleam, speckled by different shades of orange and gold, inching closer until his lips sit centimeters away from yours. “If you lose..”

Renjun licks at his lips behind you, trailing his eyes down your back, becoming curious as to what you have hiding beneath the oversized t-shirt you probably slept in.

Haechan straightens up, blowing out a breath across your mouth. “..if you lose—you’ll sit on my lap the next round.”

“Next round?”

“Yeah,” he leans back, falling into a confident demeanor as he chooses to play as Yoshi. “Winner takes all.”

Princess Peach failed to even end up in the top 5 after the amount of times you swerved and smacked into the race track walls. The two Alphas at your sides hiding their and amused laughter with coughs the more you struggled and grew frustrated, wanting to hurdle the controller at a wall.

Haechan doesn’t say anything as music signals for the next round, spreading open his thighs to make room for you, he nods toward his lap with a silent command.

“I don’t think I can play again.” You say, feigning exhaustion by slumping back into the couch.

Renjun leans over, pinching your chin between two fingers to force your gaze up. “That’s not really fair is it, princess?”

A lazy hand lands around his wrist, pulling his fingers down lower to land on your throat. “I’m too hot.. can’t focus..”

“Come on princess, you know the rules here. You agreed to play, now you have to follow through.”

Haechan’s nose finds the column of your throat, gripping onto your waist to pull you onto his lap. “Stupid Omega letting the big bad wolves inside when her heats about to start.”

“No— no, Haechan, don’t..”

“Shh, you knew what you were doing.” Renjun squeezes your throat, shaking your neck with a tight hold. “Dripping right through your underwear as if we couldn’t smell you from down the hall. Don’t play dumb now, Omega.”

“I c-can’t..”

“Why are you lying, huh?” Haechan asks, pushing your ass down against his crotch. “Besides, when did I ask?”

“Don’t lie pretty, the more you lie, the more this will hurt.” Renjun catches your bottom lip just as Haechan slips his fingers past the top of your sweats, lowering slowly to cup your heat, letting out a grunt on your shoulder when he’s met with slick spilling out past the seat of your panties. Inner thighs coated with a mess of sweet delicious wetness dripping out of your hole like a broken faucet.

“No—no, not there, please..” Your pleading only makes them laugh, Renjun letting out a bitter chuckle as he releases his hardening shaft. Stroking up and down right before your face to give you a clear view of how thick and long he sits at full mass.

“So cute, right?” He taunts, shifting onto his knees on the couch to set his hips near your face. “Little brats like you think you can always get your way.”

Haechan slips in past your underwear, quietly cursing into your nape at the amount of slick dribbling between his digits. In disbelief that you’re this wet already, that they haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re drenching his crotch through your sweats.

“That little act you put on crumbles the second you see Alphas cock baby.” Renjun’s fingers trail up from your throat to your chin, thumb latching onto your bottom lip to pull it down. Drool gathers at the corners, trickling it’s way out down to your jaw to meet his digits that press harder. “Tell Alphas what you need, don’t fucking lie.”

“Renjun, pl-please, don’t be mean.” You gurgle, lapping at his thumb shoving your lip back and forth.

He grins, pushing the pad of his thumb down until you give and let him in, resting against your tongue heavily until you let out a gagging sound and wrap your lips around him.

“All that useless begging, look at you right now.” He sneers, pushing three more fingers into your mouth with ease. “Just like that, so obedient and cute.”

Haechan’s panting, working his hips up in circles against your damp bottom. Relentless with his digits rubbing in a blur over your clit. Nipping and sucking on your throat to quill some of his arousal that shouts throughout his head to rip off your sweats and plant you on his length until you cry out, begging to get fucked.

“Renjun,” coughing around his fingers working in and out of your mouth, you gag again, copious amounts of drool fountaining out around his hand down to your collarbone. “Please.”

“Please what? Use your words.”

Renjun loves it, loves how easy it was to shut you up, make you grovel for his cute cock. Pleading to do anything to you, to make you feel good.

“Something, please please Alpha.”

“This what you want?” Teasing at his slit, he eyes you curiously, wrapping around the base of his length to stroke himself to full hardness. Chubbing up impressively, definitely not as cute as you’d perceived.

He teases the tip along your upper lip, layering a coat of thick precum there to blend with drool. “Show me what that pretty bratty mouth can do.”

He felt even bigger against your tongue, finally breeching past your lips after pulling back teasingly with each flick of your tongue at his slit. The playfulness rapidly diminished as he buried forward, suffocating your nose with the smooth skin beneath his navel.

Sucking and gagging became inevitable around the Alphas size stretching your lips open painfully. Letting out loud groans above you with each ragged breath blown through your nose against his skin, each sloppy slurp around his size. Vibrating out moans between struggling to breathe when Haechan’s fingers sank lower, tapping at your entrance with extra force as he pushed the elastic in your underwear to the limits to get three of his digits inside of you.

The tip of Renjun’s length brutally punching the back of your throat only spurred more wetness out, gliding Haechan’s fingers to bury deeper. Growling as he nipped at your earlobe about how nasty you are, getting turned on by sucking cock like a whore.

“Only real sluts get wet from sucking dick, you know what that makes you baby?”

Licking up the bottom of Renjun’s length, you nod, enjoying how he weighed down on your tongue. Lips swollen from each pointed movement further pushing your mouth to open wide and take his entire size, tearing up and coughing all the more even as you tried to slow him down. Hands uselessly flying to grip onto his thighs and plead with wide begging eyes for the Alpha to slow and let you breathe.

“Aww, not so cute anymore?“ he grins, pushing your hair back grabbing fistfuls with a tight lock of his fingers; commanding control by pushing you further down his shaft to take it all.

Renjun never gave your mouth a break, thrusting his hips forward with vigor to fill your throat over and over. Biting down to calm pleasured groans from exiting, not wanting you to know how much he was enjoying this. You needed to earn it.

“That’s it, that’s how slutty Omegas suck cock.” Haechan praised, licking at your earlobe. Thumb swiping your clit in rapid motion as his fingers continued to pump inside you. “Cum around my fingers, let me feel you squeeze up. Cumming from taking Alphas dick down your throat. You know who cums from that baby? Bratty little Omega whores.”

“Ah, fuck,” Renjun’s tough facade snapped, breaking into pieces when your eyes rolled back the more Haechan stroked between your walls. Hips stuttering to a halt as his upper lip trembles over his teeth letting out breathy whimpers. “G-gonna cum, ugh fuck.”

A few more weak thrusts had hot release pouring down your throat. Shots of hot cum hitting your tonsils as your thighs clenched up, jutting back against Haechan with your hands reaching to clutch his wrist, squirming and crying around Renjun’s length as your own release hit. Punching from your gut to your throat, convulsing in time with each other dragging out a long orgasm from Renjun, collapsing down to his knees leaving cum to trickle out onto your chin.

“Fuck.”

Haechan’s sucking his fingers clean, licking between each to not miss any bit of your sloppy release, his free hand working to pull off your ruined bottoms with Renjun stripping your top off. Breath knocked from their lungs upon seeing your bared skin, obscenely wet down to your knees, hazily staring at them standing above you as you try to recuperate.

Haechan’s tongue drags across his palm, gaze lit up by the fear passing over your face the longer they stand there observing you. He’s the first to move, bending over by his waist to get in your face, whispering out hotly. “Now, tell me something.”

A ruthless grip captures your mound as he distracts you, digging the heel of his palm against your tender clit. “What type of useless Omega are you? Haven’t made me cum once.”

“B-but, you said..”

Two fingers roughly crook inside inside, gliding in despite how swollen your folds have become, filled with blood pumping down between your thighs. Throbbing loud enough you swear you can hear it, emptying the parts of your brain that help you function, giving into the heat with each press he buries deeply, curling his fingers up until your back arches. Crooning between a shattered moan.

“I said?” His pretty soft eyes widen, precious like a stuffed plushie you’d cuddle through the night. Actions speaking louder than the false image he uses to taunt you more with. “What did I say? Huh? Suddenly you listen?”

“I listen!” You end up shouting, too shook up by the stinging smack landing on your inner thigh. Digits ripping free from your core, oozing out tendrils of thick slick obscenely.

“What do you think, Renjun?”

Renjun’s face gives off more purity than Haechan’s, the smile teasing at his lips so sweet and soft. Irises gleaming angrily, sleek and cold. The two of them quietly preparing to destroy you. “I think she hasn’t done shit to prove why we should fuck her again.”

“Is that right Omega?” Haechan rips your head back, spouting a line of spit inside of your parted lips, he smacks at your jaw, dragging you to move by pulling at your scalp. “Say it.”

“Wanna make you cum Alpha, wanna be good for you.”

Renjun’s throat lodges a bit from the needy way you stare between them, letting Haechan’s spit rest on your tongue, pushing it out through pursed lips. Sweat dampened hair, big wet eyes, bloated spit coated lips, and slick pouring from your hole in globs, absolutely pornographic. He considers— if he had the money, he’d pay for your content too.

“Good,” Renjun voices, sitting down to move you onto his lap. Shedding his clothes off while Haechan played with you, his cock pressed to your lower back, fully hard again. “Because I’m gonna knot your pretty little pussy.”

Suddenly he’s pulling you back onto his cock with one smooth glide. Scrambling to position yourself with feet scurrying to perch on his thighs. The sound that emits when he shoves in absolutely filthy— disgusting, choking a moan from between your lungs as you head tosses back again.

“What makes you think you deserve to cum again?” Renjun bites at the shell of your ear, thrusting up sloppily from the amount of slick pouring onto his thighs. Slapping the sides of yours until your legs completely bend, steadily planting your feet above his knees to prop you open for the other Alpha.

“I’ve been good!” You cry out, repeating a chant of ‘please please please’ like a prayer, head flopping back onto his shoulder harder when Haechan crawls forward on his knees spitting at your clit. Tongue smearing the mess lower, meeting with Renjun’s length stretching you open. Tongue curling around your clit as two fingers find way to your entrance, gathering the wetness spilling out around the other Alphas cock.

“Please!” Renjun grunts, hips slapping against your bottom, digging his nails into the backs of your knees. Straining to fuck you faster, groaning louder each time Haechan’s tongue laps slick off his length.

“You—haven’t earned it yet.” He grits, breathlessly cursing.

“Please! Let me—Alpha, please!” Eyes roll to the back of your head, shouting out, clenching your toes. “Ahh! Ah—ahh fuck!”

Haechan shoves three fingers inside of you as Renjun thrusts out, pushing in through the free space to prod at your insides. The slide of cock against his long calloused fingers setting off a stinging pain to your chest.

“So fucking tight.” The Alpha on his knees says proudly, working to match Renjun’s thrust. Not even bothering to give you time to adjust, he sets a snapping pace pummeling a path inside immediately. “Don’t think she should get to cum until she can take us both.”

“Hear that baby?” Renjun breathes, delivering a pointed thrust to emphasize what Haechan said, pistoning with more ferocity and anger. The tip of his cock catching on your painfully stretched entrance with each pull out. “Begged to get fucked like a slut, that’s what you think you deserve?”

Between Haechan’s warm breath blowing on your clit and Renjun’s unforgiving movements, endless pleads begging to cum spill from your tongue. The Alpha inside of you chasing after his climax faster while bouncing you up and down, fingers jamming in and out, cock lodged deep inside, tongue flicking your clit over and over again.

“Alpha! Please—please cum!”

“Where?” Renjun huffs, thrusting harder, blinking sweat away from his eyelashes. “Ask for it!”

He slaps at your thighs, beating the skin with wicked stings. Cracking dry whimpers from your throat as Haechan’s lips suck around your clit. “I-Inside! Please! Inside!”

Renjun’s throat locks up, chest heaving and squeezing tight making it harder to breathe, pushing deep past where Haechan’s fingers can reach inside of you. Struggling to keep up his speed as the base of his size expands, pushing through with teeth gritted, hips not slowing for even a second despite the new resistance gripping him. Cum bursts, spilling down around his length from the extra stretch inside of you, flowing down to the other Alpha’s wrist who licks it up, suckling up the nasty mess of slick and cum.

“A-alpha..please let me cum, please.” Desperation has you near the brink of insanity. Body full blown trembling in the weakened hold on your thighs.

Haechan smirks, tucking his fingers inside his mouth, pushing up with his free hand to spit the combined release on your chin and chest. “You really think you deserve to cum already? What about me?”

Haechan’s pushing one of your thighs up higher before you can even register what’s happening, weakened and overstimulated from being edged for too long. The tip of his length prods at your filled entrance, dragging over your swollen clit, dropping his forehead to yours as he begins to push in past the tight squeeze he’s met with.

The cries and whimpers you let out only encourage him, pressing in more as he holds his breath, sucking in his nostrils to restrain the need to cum. Making Renjun let out a pitiful grunt against your shoulder when he slides against the other Alphas size. Knot full grown making his brain spin from the stimulation rubbing against him.

“So fucking dirty.” Haechan says, shoulders tensed from trying to contain himself. Throbbing against the deathlock your walls wrap around him as he meets obstruction, blending with Renjun’s length beneath. “Fuck, so fucking dirty and messy.”

The ache burns painfully, worse than before, stinging the backs of your eyes with moisture that pushes out at the first thrust he gives. Gliding in and out of you easily with Renjun’s cum leaking down between his thighs. Haechan buries his size inside of you with pointed thrusts, doing it with extra force just to watch the tears pour from your eyes faster, just to hear your cries grow louder, pour from the walls like music reverberating out of speakers.

“Made to get fucked.” He mutters, licking at sweat and tears dangling from the tip of your nose. “Made to take Alpha cock like this, take it like a good Omega. Offering your holes to any Alpha, desperate for a fat knot, so fucking greedy you need two.”

“Hae-haechan—“ it’s barely a whisper, croaking from the back of your throat. Bounced down onto Renjun’s knot, getting hard again enough to compose himself and match up to Haechan’s pace even when it hurts him. Too lust ridden to stop himself when your ass bounces against his stomach. Firm strokes filling you up, rubbing against each other incessantly.

“Fuck, gonna cum.” He pants against your lips, tongue laving out like a hungry dog. Biting and sucking on whatever he can catch, leaving your mouth more swollen and bruised. “Make Alpha cum baby, wanna feel that pussy squeeze up again.”

Guiding a hand between your bodies, he thumbs at your over-sensitive clit again, sending shock waves of pleasure up your spine. Head jerked back onto Renjun’s shoulder, blabbering between your cries as you finally clenched around the two; orgasm barreling out of you sending a wave of electric shock up to your brain. The scream you let out echoing off the walls, permeating obscene wet squelches paired with the Alphas noisy grunts.

“A-ahh—“ Haechan’s head drops, knot ripping out around his base with one more thrust, locking him into place unable to move anymore as his cock weeps. Cum pouring out of him fiercely, endlessly streaming out. Only able to stay inside from the knots battling to keep you plugged up.

Renjun’s hips jump up just once, grinding upward letting out another release between a strangled groan that barely exits his lips.

“N-no no more, noo..” you hiccup, sobbing into the crook of Haechan’s neck. The ache in your legs gone numb from the overwhelming heat filling your gut, splayed out like a broken doll between the Alphas. Panting like animals stuck in humid heat that won’t allow you to catch your breath.

“Good Omega.” Haechan pecks wherever his mouth can reach, nudging his nose against your eyelid. “God, you’re so good.”

Renjun lets out a muffled sound agreeing, blowing hot air along the back of your shoulder.

“Thanks for..” Haechan grins, lip curling up wickedly. “Letting us come over.”

He’s not sure if he should kiss you, blinking up making direct eye contact with one of the various streaming cameras— he remembers that this isn’t live, opting to gently peck the tip of your nose. “You okay?”

“Mhm..” your eyes can’t seem to stay in place, as if the sockets have lost control of power, rolling back still too high off your climax. “Thank you Alphas.”

“Hey?” Jeno pokes into your bedroom, subtly ducking his chin in to hide the thrill painting his features upon seeing your set-up. Swallowing down a raspy cough, he glances around, smirking at the visual of your pink bedding. The room he’s dreamt of for months, weeks, days, restless nights awake stroking his cock to made-up fantasies of turning you around into multiple positions on this bed.

He’s calm, mostly, stealing looks around for where various cameras have been placed to capture different angles of what’s about to go down.

“Jeno?”

Your voice shivers up his spine, flaring his nostrils as he lets the scent of rose petals in your body wash lingering on your flesh circle around him. The prominent aroma of heat hits stronger than any amount of scrub and bubbles you used to cleanse your skin of Renjun and Haechan’s cum.

Honey.. sweet dripping honeycombs..

Jeno has to stop himself from sucking down a deep breath of slick gathering between your thighs. Muscles strain beneath the sweat soaked cotton material of his shirt, twitching while he tries to keep collected, turning to face you with an easy smile. “Jaemin sent me in to see if you’re ready for the photoshoot.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d be coming too?”

Jeno shrugs, explaining his sweaty appearance by telling you the story of their broken air conditioner while you sort through a rack of scantily clad garments hung on silk hangers. He thinks it’s fitting, everything in your bedroom screams feminine, delicate and pretty, only adding more ideas in his mind of different ways he’d love to rip off your designer lingerie. His monthly fee had to contribute to your closet somehow.

“Everyone’s air conditioner’s breaking from these heatwave’s..” you mumble, shyly gripping tighter onto the towel wrapped around you.

“Do you feel uncomfortable with me being here?” Jeno questions, proceeding to carry on conversation as if red lights from the cameras couldn’t bother him in the least.

“A little,” you say, sparing him a coy look over your shoulder with a small wink. “Jaemin told me that you’re one of my subscribers. Maybe you can help me choose what to wear?”

Jeno’s mouth hangs open comically following your towel slipping off, immediately hit with a potent waft of your scent. He has to tighten his fist as his sides to stop from lunging at your bare backside. Stepping closer with thinning eyes to stand behind you, he digs at your shoulder with the tip of his nose. Hands finding the back of your waist to tickle at with light grazes.

“Why would you put something on?” He glowers, quietly speaking. “You think I won’t just rip it off of you?”

“Alpha, what are y-you..” Jeno’s instincts take over, already forgetting he’s here technically to work.

“I’ve been subscribed to you for a really long time.” He whispers for you, hoping the microphones Jaemin set up can’t pick up on his low rumble. “Is that weird?”

Jeno’s cute— kind of in the same way Renjun’s dick is cute, but even cuter. The calmest he’s been since arriving with the others just now, pheromones similar to an Alpha pup entering their first rut, even that aspect melted your chest, having to bite your tongue from over-complimenting the Alpha in the moment to keep the act going.

“Do you know how many of my subscribers wish they could fuck me?”

Jeno splutters, pinching his fingers into where your waist dips, bottom lip jutting out as he shakes his head.

“Every single one of them. Don’t let them down.. Alpha.”

He’s been waiting so long for this, even had to wait while his friends fucked you first. Chewing at his nails nervously while he sat out on the balcony with Jaemin, he thought about it, remembering each time you’d notice his messages in the chat and responded with a devilish smile.

“None of them have ever wanted you as much as me.” Jeno steps closer, positioning your chest against the wall with his hips circling against your backside holding you in place with one palm flattened on the curve in your spine. “None of them will ever fuck you the way I’m about to.”

“Alpha..” you say it in such a gentle tone, lowering down to the coquettish gamer girl voice that always makes payments drop into your account faster. Tongue hanging out for Jeno’s eyes to track, following the little wiggle you give before he snaps, darting forward to trap you between his lips.

It’s not a slow kiss, lacking rush as he savors tasting you for the first time. Just as sweet and tantalizing as he always imagined, better even; cherry flavored jolly rancher that he wishes could permanently stain his tongue with remnants of its flavor.

The Alphas strong build melts heavily against your back, trailing bony long fingers between your lower halves to tug himself free.

“F-fuck.” You gasp, planting your forehead against the wall, losing the hold around your tongue. Lips returning to an abused swollen state from the heated kiss.

“I know how you like it.” Jeno whispers, licking up your jawline to your earlobe, nipping as he slaps his length between the crevice of your ass. “I know how you love it.”

His shaft feels weighty on your bottom, slapping down landing with obscenely loud smacks the cameras could pick up on even without microphones. “How’s your pussy gonna take all this dick baby?”

Jeno already has your eyes rolling up, from the gravely rasp in his tone to his sheer mass pressing heavy on your body, forcing your nipples to scratch against the wall sending shrill sensations down to the gushing space between your thighs. “Thought you were a fan..”

“Oh I am.” Jeno clicks his tongue, kissing at the backs of his teeth. Bending at his knees to swipe between your buttcheeks. “Gonna fuck every part of you.”

He pushes between your thighs to emphasize, grunting like a beast against your nape. Excitement from before spiraling into the pure need to fuck and breed, fill you with pups before any other Alpha can.

Even between your thighs Jeno feels too thick, forcing your knees to bump into each other with each splitting thrust he gives. Pushing at his sweats haphazardly to relieve his balls of the heat swarming his skin, his Alpha taking over chanting to mate mate mate. Each slap of his hips screams against your backside, resounding an aggressive clap throughout your bedroom.

Jeno can hardly believe your slicks staining his sweats, leaking out for him, pussy folds draping around his size pleading to be filled. “My Omega, gonna be dreaming about my cock after this. On your knees for me, begging for Alpha to fuck you.”

The heat between your thighs becomes unbearable, jammed against his size viciously strumming your clit. Heavy palms cup your waist, riding you back and forth on his length faster, scrabbling at the wall.

Jeno shouts a string of curses, ripping away only to throw you down on the bed. Throat tight as he swiftly twists off his shirt. Pupils blown wide covered in black, a blush rising from the center of his chest to warm pink nipples, tracing the veins lining his throat to where his lips swell into a pout.

He stands proud following your heated gaze to his gleaming shaft standing tall, reaching the middle of his carved abdomen. Instinctively clamping your thighs together when he approaches, kicking his sweats off, smiling too adorably as he captures your thighs.

“What happened to being the queen of taking cock?”

Jeno lets out a giggle, a fucking giggle, amused by the sheer terror crossing your expression. Spreading your thighs apart, losing his stature when your heady scent hits him. Pussy insanely drenched leaving a puddled mess to create under your ass.

His length drapes down the center of your stomach, the tip landing just above halfway. Poking at your muscles twitching under his size. “That’s how deep I’m gonna fuck you.”

The need to claim you and make you his intensifies more, mesmerized by your hole twitching, pulsing around nothing. Your body screaming from anywhere to get fucked, for him to fuck you, that’s all Jeno can think. You need him to fuck you.

“Only I get to see you like this..” He says, jaw locking when he has to specify. “…out of all the Alphas who pay.”

The realization stirs up the Alphas primal hunger, desire overflowing to ruin you, ruin you for only him. Ensure that no one else will ever be good enough, no one else will ever satisfy you.

Jeno almost feels embarrassed as he circles the tip of his length on your entrance. Shivering from his thighs to where his throat bobs up and down. Prolonging teasing your hole only for his sanity— quietly pep-talking himself up to not cum in a minute, he hadn’t edged himself for hours into the night missing sleep over your videos to fuck up this chance.

After what feels like an eternity, he sucks down a deep breath lowering inch by inch into your sopping wet cunt. Lewd ridiculous sounds of wetness gush out around his fat size, walls clamping down sucking him in to move even faster. True to his word, your stomach extends when he sinks inside to the hilt, cock pushing your walls to a new stretch. Fiercely throbbing between your convulsing heat.

“Oh fu-fuck..” Jeno’s mouth drops open, his eyes rolling up as if this was his first time. Your pussy tightening around his size like a glove, the veins beating up and down his length molding to the shape of your insides. “So—so fucking tight.”

Jeno’s mewling, brain thoughtless to the cameras recording, not a care in the world about the amount of comments that would make fun of him. His reaction only confirming you weren’t just a pretty Omega for Alphas to shower with gifts, but the actual girl of his dreams. The fleshlight he discretely kept hidden under his bed from your merch site would never be able to compare.

He pulls out only to slam his cock back in, drowning in the way you spasm and clench around him. Pussy locked tight refusing to let go, knowing in the back of his mind he’d have you trained to take his size everyday, turn you into the perfect doll to sit on his cock.

The Alphas hands find your curved waist, dipping the pads of his fingers in to gain momentum. “So pretty, you’re so pretty.” He says between labored breaths, cock stroking in and out too rapidly, losing coherency too much to even understand him.

Jeno’s speed becomes punishing, caught up in his own crazed lust, determined to push cum far deep enough inside of you that you taste him in the back of your mouth.

Moans and whimpers soar off your tongue, head thrashing side to side as the Alpha lifts your ankles to his shoulders, pounding faster until you’re limp. Hanging boneless on his cock spearing all the way inside, bulging the skin around your navel out with each deep hit.

“Alpha..c-cum,” you babble breathlessly. Air knocked out of you with each unforgiving slide of Jeno’s length pushing your mind further away. “C-close, I—close.”

He nods, taking the initiative to fuck you with extra force until you’re shouting, gripping at the pillows above your head. The pillows he’s watched you ride and get off on countless amounts of times. Memories of cumming in the shower, at 3am in bed, even in the school bathroom resurface as his gaze takes in your breasts bouncing, clapping together from the impact of his body engulfing yours.

“Cum for your Alpha, cum for me baby.”

Your orgasm clutches you by the throat, beckoning your back to arch up as your release nearly forces Jeno’s size to push out. Wetness spritzing over his abs and chest, even reaching up to slap under his chin.

“What’s taking so long?” Jaemin steps in right as Jeno folds you in half, the backs of your knees hoisted to the sides of your head, neck thrown back in a complete daze.

The Alpha on top of you catches his friend entering from the corner of his eye, a camera in hand as they planned for better up-close shots under the premise of photographing content for your page. His thrusts never falter, angling and maneuvering just right to reach where you need, pummeling moaned gasps from the back of your throat.

“Gonna fill you full of pups.” Jeno mostly says to himself, voice rough and serious with each dip crushing his abdominal muscles together. Sweaty and flexing the more he grinds forward, grunting through licks at his teeth. “Want Alpha to breed your pretty cunt? You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Fixated on chasing his release, Jeno pushes your thighs to your chest. Pressing hard watching his cock punch through your slick velvety walls. Entrance clinging to his thick girth, looking raw and used, still wanting more.

Droplets of sweat rain down, landing to melt along the backs of your legs from where they jump off Jeno’s jaw, neck rippling under a sheet of sweat. Exerting more power to cage you completely, leaving little to no room for you to even squirm away.

Jaemin expected to walk in on this, what he didn’t expect was the wash of annoyance that poured down his mind. Biting at his bottom lip to control himself from ruining the moment, he powers on the camera in his hand; zooming in to your face as Jeno leans in to give you the messiest, spittiest, barely there kiss. A kiss more so meant for his friends eyes only.

“What was that?” Jeno spews, wet hair flopping on his forehead. The heat from your bodies overpowering the air blowing from the vent above your door. Even Jaemin has to lap away sweat from his upper lip the closer he approaches.

Jeno’s question breaks through your mind with another ruthless snap of his hips. Chanting a round of broken yesyesyesyes, shouting out for the Alpha when his relentless pounding turns erratic, burning your back to shift up your bed. Damp bedding lights fire up your back, dragged harder by the Alpha losing his restraint, stilling right as your head hits the headboard.

Jeno’s growls sound close to whines, pup whines. Fucking like he’s never had a rut before, never slowing, emptying cum deep inside your walls for what feels like hours. Knot popping, sending hisses between his grinding teeth, deeply wrinkled around his squeezed shut eyes. Shallowly continuing to fuck your pussy through his never ending orgasm, knot attempting to sneak through with another thrust.

“Too much! S-too much!” You sob, head reeling and aching from how hard Jeno had fucked you, the headboard smacking back when you collided.

Jaemin taps his friend's shoulder, breaking his daze. Finally letting your legs down gently to not flop down harshly.

Jeno wants to curse, cry, shout and scream, kick his legs. Smoothing his hands down soft tender flesh lining your inner thighs, fixated on your ruined hole plugged up full of his cum, filled to the brim by his cock and knot. “So perfect.”

He shifts back just enough to admire white hot release squeeze out. Knot covered with a mixture of you both, something he could get off to if he had a photo on hand. Nodding for Jaemin to come closer and get a shot as he dips his digits to collect some of the blend, raising it to your lips letting out whines from over sensitivity.

“Open baby, that’s it pretty baby.” He coos, pushing a filthy wad of your cum onto your tongue, plump lips wrapping around his fingers with a suck.

Jaemin concentrates on filming your face, his dick twitching when your relaxed expression switches to one of fear, Jeno going on about how good you feel, how he’s your Alpha now.

“Who owns you now? Hmm?” He asks, penetrating his digits further in until you’re gagging, coughing from the rough pace he starts prodding your mouth with.

“You know why she’s not answering?” Jaemin interrupts, scanning the drool that's covered your chin and chest. “You can’t own a slut.”

Without another word, Jaemin elbows Jeno’s side, taken over by how long he’s waites. How infuriated he feels having to witness another Alpha fuck you stupid when that should be him.

The Alpha in question grumbles, knot gone down enough to be shoved aside with ease to be forgotten. He sits near, doing as he was instructed to earlier— ‘film it like a viewer would enjoy, you should know how.’

Jaemin’s fast to turn you over, his hands brushing up the backs of your thighs to grip your hips. Positioning your ass up like a good Omega presenting for their Alpha, not even giving you a minute to realize he’s about to fuck you face down ass up before he swipes between your folds gathering slick and cum, burying into your ass with one push.

He’s big— so fucking big. Fully erect, stretching your hole wide around thick fat girth. The better part of Jaemin long gone, his only care now to fuck your ass raw, hear your wails blast around the room, claim a part of you before Jeno can.

He’s so deep, filling your hole up giving you no time to even adjust, writhing as you reach for something, anything. Clutching at your bed topper, at Jeno’s smooth built thigh. The Alpha panning over the exposed white of your eyes, tongue hung out trickling saliva out like something straight out of Hentai.

Jaemin’s strong thighs press to the backs of yours, cock fully breaching your hole, stinging from the tip of your spine all the way to the top. Cries, sobbing cries sound before you can even register, fucked too stupid by the fullness splitting your ass open.

Nothing about the Alphas movements comes across charming or polite anymore, brutally gripping your hips with a bruising hold; leveraging your weight to snap forward forcing a deep bowed arch in your back.

Skin clapping against wet skin boomed around your bedroom, muffling the whimpering moans spewing from your chest. Jaemin only spurred to fuck you full of his rage— rage that should be directed at the Alpha equally irritated behind the camera.

“Alpha! Please—“ saliva collecting around your tongues slips free, covering your chin in more of a mess. Adding more obscenity to the visual of Jaemin’s broad figure behind you, pushing the mounds of your ass to roll over onto your lower back with each pummel of his hips.

“Did I say you could fucking speak?” Jaemin growls, slapping your hip before looping a fist through your hair. Yanking to lift your head for the camera lense to zoom in and out and focus on the disaster that’s taken place. Tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, lips debauched from chewing and biting, snot mixing with sweat above your pout. A nasty little mess, manhandled around by Alphas like nothing but a useless fucktoy.

“You see Jeno?” He leans over, pressing against your ass making your thighs scream from the burn of his weight pushing you into a half-split bent at your knees. “He’s your biggest fan.”

Jaemin’s tone fills with mockery, taunting and picking at his friend, taking a hold of your jaw with his other hand to make you look at the camera, look at Jeno’s enraged face hiding behind it. The cold gaze watching you coiling heat through your gut, spiraling up your chest. Trapped by the Alphas hand lowering to cup your throat with a squeeze, coughing through sobs the more he tightens.

“So fucking ungrateful, he pays so much just to watch you, pretend you belong to him.” Jaemin tuts, lifting hooded eyes to glare at the other. “This is how you thank him? Let his best friend fuck your ass. Such a fucking whore.”

Jeno’s lips pull back in a snarl, silently warning his roommate to stop trying him. Making him suffer as much as he’s made you with the bullshit he goes on saying.

“You can thank him better than this.” Jaemin says, roughly shaking your throat in his grip. “Come on, open up that pretty mouth.”

Instantaneously your tongue lolls out like a bitch in heat, causing Jeno to grunt, clamping his free hand around the base of his shaft. Shame and thrill combining to rip a guttural moan through it all. Jaemin only using your brainless weakened stated to his advantage.

The Alphas bicep lodges against your throat, squeezing your breath to choke out with every thrust, his other hand fisting your hair until your neck arches back in a painful way. Jeno getting an amazing shot of your tongue hanging lifelessly, drooling onto Jaemin’s meaty bulging bicep. Biting down on it hard enough to shock yourself to waken enough and cry.

Jaemin’s nose buries behind your ear, licking at whatever he can reach. Hiding his voice by latching onto your neck. “So fucking sexy, you’re so fucking hot.”

He gets it, he more than gets it. Stilling to circle against your ass as he lets out a less than manly whine. The desperation rumbling from his chest lets you know he’s close, face crumpling behind you, doing his best to keep it a secret with his nose tucked into your hair.

His thrusts snap like quick jabs, sharp and pointed. Expertly fucking your ass without losing his pace, without caring if you even get off. Letting your head drop, Jaemin gives your scalp a break, slapping a firm grip on your shoulder to keep you in place. The impact forcing your face to drop forward, biting down on the bicep shifting under your chin. Thick meat of muscle fills your taste buds, laving at it pathetically to compress the wails trying to crack from your lungs.

Jaemin knows he doesn’t have to do it, he doesn’t owe you a damn thing. Reminding you to be grateful he’s even fucking your slutty ass, he jerks your neck back up, cracking in the process. Pushing your hips up with his length grinding into you. Fingers swoop down, blurring over your clit in a mean way just to make you cry more. “Show your loyal fans what it takes to make you cum.”

Fumbling to fist the bedding, you convulse, pussy clenching at nothing. Squirting all over your thighs, ruined pretty pink blanket, and the Alpha’s forearm continuing to vibrate pushing your orgasm over the edge.

Jaemin let’s out a cracked groan, having to slow down from the ass clamps around him. Thrashing against his arm making the pressure worse on his cock.

He sighs through a moan, cupping your bruised hip to pull out, cock landing with a wet slap where your butt perks and rounds out. Struggling to keep his eyes open as he groans filthily, the tip of his length prodding in and it of your hole to push his cum in. Letting the rest of it cover your ass with a creamy layer.

“There you go,” he sighs, kissing your temples. Licking away sweat that’s about to clump your eyelashes together more. “Such a good Omega.”

He eyes the teeth marks shining under a coat of drool left behind on his arm, softly dislodging your chin while massaging the back of your strained neck. “Hungry little puppy.”

He thrusts back in once more for good measure, making you squeal and hiss, his heavy hand pushing at your lower back to slide out with calm. Cum bubbling around his softening length as your rim pulses.

Jeno lets out an angry scoff, grabbing onto the back of your leg once Jaemin finally moves off. Grumbling something about how his friend took long enough.

“N-no! No more!” You cry, wailing, weakly trying to crawl away on your knees. Jeno tossing you onto your back like a rag doll after Jaemin emptied the life out of you.

“Shh, be good for Alpha.”

The last thing you hear before your eyes roll to the backs of your sockets. Lungs crushed under Jeno’s weight as he sinks deep inside your ass pushing the rest of Jaemin’s cum to pour out.

“Hey.” Jeno’s eyes light up above you, his face all fresh with floppy damp hair. Sporting a soft smile, patting a cool cloth on your forehead. “You’re awake. I think your heat actually broke.”

“Hmm?” Sitting up on your elbows, you see Jaemin sitting at the end of the bed, a shifty gaze roaming between you and the other Alpha.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, rubbing at the side of his neck, a nervous habit.

“Kind of sleepy.” You yawn, settling against two stacked pillows. Jeno continues to pamper you, apologizing for losing control with a look of concern.

“That was the point, Alpha.” You reassure with a wink, tracing the lines of his opened apologetic palm. “Should have the video up by tomorrow, after my editor cuts all the unsexy stuff.”

Jaemin clears his throat to interrupt, wishing Jeno would leave first so he could talk to you in private. It’s not as if his roommate should have any type of claim on you just because he was horny enough to pay for a monthly subscription.

“We should leave so you can rest.” He nods. “I have some errands to run tomorrow nearby, if you need anything..”

Jeno’s jaw pops open, fixing his friend with an offended look. The other proceeding to ignore him with a shrug.

“Thank you Alp—….Jaemin..”

“Of course.” He smiles politely, the demon that had just wrecked your ass long disappeared by now. “Let’s get going Jeno.”

Jeno follows after Jaemin, trudging to exit with slumped shoulders, weighed down by an impending sensation of regret. Tilting his head side to side annoyed the more he thought about it.

“Be right back!” He spins, jogging the short distance back to your bedroom to find you still blissfully laid in place ready to fall asleep again.

“Hey.” He smiles brightly, blinking to keep his eyes as open as possible despite the way his cheeks ache from stretching his lips so wide.

“Jeno? Did you forget something?”

The Alpha steps back inside, sinking your bed in where he sits and pulls out his phone. “Yeah, your phone number.”

“Ahh..” covering your face, you can’t resist the urge to squeal. The overly eager Alpha unleashing shyness and excitement in your chest. “So cheesy!”

“I should’ve been cooler, right?” He wonders, teeth chattering with a nervous laugh. “Strolled in like— what’re you doing this weekend? Other than me?”

“Jeno?” Jaemin pokes his head past your door, having followed after him and listened to this embarrassing back and forth long enough. “Let’s go. Now. Haechan and Renjun have been waiting for us at the restaurant.”

“Oh yeah yeah, sorry.” Jeno leans over, stealing a kiss on your forehead as if his mouth hadn’t just slathered the entirety of your body in sucks and bites. “Get some rest.”

Jaemin nods, staying behind as his friend walks out. “Can I text you still?”

“Huh?” You question sleepily, confused as to why he’d ask. “Of course.. Alpha.”

Jaemin smiles, ducking his chin to hide the blush seeping through his cheeks. “Maybe we can hang out? next Saturday?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

a/n: Jeno favoritism always😭

ps- kinda proofed/kinda not🥹💙

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Hazband 2: Band AU

Buckle Up, Buttercups. This is gonna be looooooooooong.

-"Insider Bands" playing on VH666 streaming services on a computer monitor / TV screen sitting on the desk against the far wall-

Charlie: (laying on her belly on her bed and chewing her nails like a cartoon goat chews through a field of grass as she watches the TV)

Riff Rascal: Alright, dudes, dudettes, non-duders, and rock-aholics! That was Simple Plain's newest single "Why Are We Kids?!". Coming up next, our guy, our big shredder, our big bad-

????: Dammit, Riff!!!! Just get on with it!!!

Riff Rascal: Yo, sorry, boss lady! Coming up next, we have our expert in all things metal and shredding, Axel Steelgrave, conducting a super secret, super exclusive interview with one of Hell's latest and greatest! Stay tuned!

Charlie: (whines and plasters her face into the comforter) Fuck! I really messed up! I shouldn't have released that album, guys! What if Vaggie doesn't like girls outside of the metal scene?! Then I'm just the creepy, stalker, pop diva who messages her on Sinstagram every once and a while! And likes all of her posts! And comments on each picture! And-

Razzle: (trying to finish polishing Charlie's hooves after a full pedicure and hoof care) Baap?

Charlie: So? It was only ever mentioned once in a tabloid that she was once in a poly ship with a man and woman before. Nothing set in stone. Who listens to tabloids anyway? She said she was a lesbian in her last interview with Angel Metal Monthly.

Dazzle: (brings up a wide array of nail polishes) BaaaAaaAp?

Charlie: Yes! She messages me back almost immediately after every message I send her, but that doesn't mean the's interested in me. She hasn't been online in a week! (rolls over and flops onto her back, covering her eyes with her arm) Not since Katie Killjoy did that whole news segment on my new single music video and album.

Dazzle: (painting Charlie's hooves in a deep red hue called "Wicked Sinister") Baaaaaaap. BaaaAAaaap. Baap. (clicks his hoof in a way that's supposed to look like a sassy finger snap and blows heated air over the paint)

Razzle: Baap! (scowls) Baaap. Baaa. Baap!

Charlie: Thanks, Razzle. No, Dazzle. I really don't think this is some kind of rebound. I really started liking her during the Battle of the Bands gig over at the Jackpot Hotel and Casino. She was the first person who didn't openly laugh at me being there even though I was the only pop singer there.

-VH666 blares back with a heavy metal guitar riff-

Axel Steelgrave: Hey, good evening, everyone. How's it going? Tonight, we have a very special guest. (camera pans out to show Vaggie sitting next to Axel in an interview chair) Lead singer, guitarist, and rocking girl, Vaggie the Steel Vagina from Fallen Angels.

Charlie: WHAT?!?!?!?!?! (crocodile death rolls around in her excitement and falls out of bed, completely wrapped in a burrito, and worm crawls over to the TV) RAZZLE!!! DAZZLE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

Razzle: (salutes) Baap! (grabs the remote and turns up the volume)

Dazzle: (sad bleats as he looks at the mess of nail polish everywhere) baaaaaap.....

Vaggie: (trying not to snarl at the name) It's just Vaggie, Axel.

Axel Steelgrave: Oh, sure. Sure. Well, thank you so much for taking the time to come and see us. Not gonna lie. We were shocked to hear that you were coming out with a new single so quickly.

Charlie: (plasters her face to the screen) New Single?!?!?!?!?!

Vaggie: (blushes slightly) Well, I figured after hearing the Princess's new album and call-out, I should work on a reply.

Angel: (from behind the camera man) You wouldn't have had ta write and record a whole new song and music video if you just sent 'er a video of you jacking it all week! I've never heard dat vibrator work so hard in its life! I swear I smelled smoke last night!

Charlie: (squeals, gasps, and shrieks all at once and falls backwards)

Vaggie: (jumps up from her seat) Angel! What the Fuck?!

Axel Steelgrave: Well, well, well, I guess that answers my next question. I take it this new single is going to be good news for the Princess?

Vaggie: (still steaming as she sits back down and tries to compose herself) I know you have the video on hand. Why not play it and let the fans see for themselves?

Axel Steelgrave: I couldn't have said it better myself. (to the camera) With that being said, let's take a look at a sneak peek of Fallen Angel's new single: "Dear, Charlie - For Somewhere Better".

-Video cuts to some random point in the music video where Vaggie is standing in black leather skirt that has the leather ripped into strips in a hoola-skirt style, black halter tank top, thigh high leather heeled boots, and black fingerless gloves, holding and shredding a guitar. Angel is a pink, fabulous gay disaster on drums while one set of hands works a keyboard.-

Vaggie: (singing) We'll ignite. Still dreaming wide awake. On the hunt for "Somewhen brighter". Pull me close now, and I'll dream until my dying day. Till we create a new "Somewhere better". The promise of a life. Like a thousand suns inside my broken heart. I can see through your eyes. And embrace the flame that guides me through the night.

-Video Cuts back to the interview-

Axel Steelgrave: (freaking out excitedly) Wow! That's quite the statement! Good on you, Steel Vagina!

Vaggie: Vaggie.

Axel Steelgrave: Before we end this exclusive, is there anything you want to say to the Princess in case she's watching?

Vaggie: (Face falls briefly as her eye widens and a blush colors her face) Oh.... (shakes her head to compose herself, looks into the camera, and makes a telephone gesture) Call me~

Axel Steelgrave: (laughing) Alright! You heard it here first, folks. "Dear, Charlie" will be available on HellTunes tonight at midnight. Thank you all so much for tuning in. And, as always, stay rocking.

Charlie: (finally managing to unravel the blanket and sitting on the floor with a bright red blush) C-Call.... Her.... She wants me to call her... (jumps up and down like a teenager in a bad "not another teen movie" while holding Razzle and Dazzle's hooves) SHE WANTS ME TO CALL HER!!!! (pauses) How?! I don't have her number!

-DING!-

Charlie: (dives for her phone on the floor and opens a new Sinstagram message)

FallenAngelVaggie: Hope you got a chance to watch "Insider Bands" tonight. Talk to you later? Maybe over coffee? XXX-XXX-XXXX

Charlie: (takes a deep breath) SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Vaggie: (leaning against the wall of the VH666 studio, holding her phone against her chest, and taking a long drag of a cigarette)

Angel: Hey! I thought you were quitting! (yoinks the cigarette and plops it between his lips)

Vaggie: Dammit, Angel! I said I'd be done once my case is empty! (digs in her pocket and pulls out an angelic steel cigarette case) It still has four left! I haven't even lit up in nearly six months!

Angel: I know! Proud of you for that. That interview rile you up that much that you gotta wreck six months of hard work?

Vaggie: Ugh! (slams her back into the wall) You think Charlie got the message?

-squeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Angel: (looks up at the sky towards the Morningstar Mansion where it looks like fireworks are going off on one of the balconies) Oh, I think she got it~

[siriusleee]

midnight | part 1

Simon Riley x Reader Summary: He’s always been attractive, but at this moment, with the moonlight coming through the window and the gun on the side table, he’s something else entirely.

part one | part two | part three

"Can you do something for me?”

His words freeze you - your fingers barely wrapped around your mug of lukewarm tea. The glow of the computer in the dark of your office illuminates him just enough to see his outline filling up the doorway.

“Excuse you?” Your voice cracks, and you cough to cover up the redness creeping up your chest.

Ghost doesn’t say anything else - instead he holds out something towards you. The light glints against the screen of the cell phone. Confused, you flip it over in your hands, trying to figure out why Ghost just handed you a cell phone.

“I need you to get the information off of it.”

“You know my rule, Ghost. You know I’m not your fucking personal IT department.”

“Just this once, love.”

He stares at you, eyes nearly expressionless. You know that he knows you can’t resist him calling you ‘love’ in that stupid fucking accent of his. He doesn’t move away from your desk, doesn’t take the phone from your hands. His hands tuck into the pockets of his jacket - a stark sight of comfort against his tactical pants and baklava.

“Fine,” you say dropping the phone down beside your keyboard, “but I demand payment. I do have a job and a life outside of you, so if you want it done before I go on leave tomorrow, you’re paying up.”

“What do you want?”

“A coffee. Not one you made - I don’t want to drink battery acid. A real one from Starbucks or something.”

Ghost grumbles; you turn your eyes away from him and back to your work on the computer - Price’ll have your head if you don’t have everything squared away and finished before you go home tomorrow.

“Where the fuck am I supposed to get something like that at this time of night.”

You shrug, shifting in your chair so you can tuck your legs into the seat.

“Not my problem. You bring me payment, I’ll do it for you. Otherwise get out of my damn office.”

When he comes back with the largest possible Starbucks cup, you almost think about asking which Starbucks he held up to get a drink at the hour, but you get the feeling that he’s not in the mood for humor. When you take the cup from him, you already have the phone connected to your personal computer - unsure if there’s anything on there that he wouldn’t want multiple government agencies to see.

“There’s no nudes on here right? No sex tapes or anything?” You ask as he drops to the floor beside your chair, back pressed against the wall.

“Why do you need to know?” His voice is quiet - you can hear him trying to edge towards that monotone playfulness that he has - but there’s no force behind it tonight.

“Just making sure that I don’t accidentally see your dick - it’s not exactly the ideal way to see it is it? Anyway, is there anything I’m supposed to be looking for or do you just need everything put on a flash drive? I got a million of them around here. ”

“A flash drive is fine.”

It’s quiet except for the sounds of the wind outside, and Ghost breath behind his mask.

“You know-” you start, just to break the silence, “you could have taken this to like, the store you got it from, and they could have does this for you right.”

Ghost doesn’t speak for a moment - weighing his words before he does.

“I don’t trust random people.”

“So there is sex tapes on here. With who could it be so important that you have to make sure you save them from a dead phone?”

Your joking - teasing him; his silence makes you glance over at him. His head is leaning against the wall, eyes closed. He must know you’re looking at him because he answers you without moving.

“It has pictures of my family.”

His tone opens up a million questions, but gives you a million answers. You can hear the rest of his sentence, unspoken but loud enough to bounce around the walls of your small office. Don’t ask .

It doesn’t take long to finish transferring the files to the flash drive and hand it over to Ghost. He leans towards you, never leaving his spot on the floor.

“Is that everything?"

"Are you going to work here all night?"

"Are you going to stay here all night?"

You turn your chair around towards him, foot dropping down between his boots to stop yourself from spinning away from him.

"Nothing else to do around here."

You know he doesn't sleep much - the amount of times he's been in the same spot, the sound of your keyboard lulling him to sleep before you finally kicked him out so you could go to sleep is unfathomable. You sigh, pulling your foot back up into your chair, brushing against his calf as you do so.

"I'm almost done anyway, and I have to get some sleep before I catch my flight tomorrow. You want to watch a movie?"

He cracks one eye open at you.

"Is that a fucking line?"

You can't help it - the tone he asks it in makes you bark out a laugh.

"No, it's not a line. I'm just trying to be nice."

"It sounds like you're trying to lure me back to your bunk to get my pants off."

You roll your eyes as you switch off your computer, the office plunging into darkness.

"Ghost, if I wanted to get your pants off, I could do it without a Netflix and chill session."

When the two of you reach your room, you blush at the mess. You're one of the few civilians who get to live on base full time - you've collected more crap than the average soldier who never knows how long they'll be assigned to live here. In a whirlwind, you'd thrown everything around the room trying to figure out what you needed for a two week trip home. You're not entirely sure, but Ghost strikes you as the type of person to live by cleanliness being close to godliness.

He doesn't say anything, instead pointing at the television stationed on top of your dresser, among bottles of perfume and make up.

"How'd you get that?"

"Oh you know, I get special privileges and all."

Ghost hums at you as you snatch up a ratty t-shirt and shorts from a pile on the floor.

"Turn around so I can change. And don't try to sneak any peeks."

He turns, ever a gentleman, and you change as quickly as possible, throwing your clothes into the corner. You settle onto the bed before Ghost turns back around. You pat the edge of the bed beside you, your hands faltering as you do. It's suddenly hit you how intimate this entire situation is, how this would be taken if anyone were to just walk in.

"You can sit up here, or you can lay on the floor. It's up to you."

You can see Ghost's eyes roam the floor, the mess, your suitcases that aren't zipped up. Slowly, like he's realizing the intimate nature of this situation, he lowers himself down to a sitting position beside you. His bends over, you can hear him working at the laces of his boots before he kicks them off and lines them up neatly beside the bed. His hands reach up to the small of his back; he pulls a gun out from underneath his jacket and places it lightly on your side table. The movement is strangely intimate, the sight of his gloved hand on the gun in the moonlight coming through the small window is enough to make your stomach flip.

You try to push the thoughts out of your head, focusing instead on the movie you’ve picked out. It’s some dumb action flick that you’ve seen a million times before, but it’s something to do, something to pay attention to other than the feeling of Ghost's thigh against yours. Ghost doesn’t seem to mind, and you can feel his eyes heavy on you. You pretend not to notice as you settle back against the pillows, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

You’ve seen this movie a million times before, but you don’t really pay attention to it. Instead, you steal glances at Ghost out of the corner of your eye whenever you think he’s not looking. He’s always been attractive, but at this moment, with the moonlight coming through the window and the gun on the side table, he’s something else entirely. You feel the heat rising in your cheeks and try to focus on the movie, but it’s no use. You’re acutely aware of every move he makes, every breath he takes, and you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be closer to him.

You don't know you've fallen asleep, until Ghost shifts beside you, waking you. You feel his tactical pants under your leg, in your sleep you've hooked your leg over his, your hand snaking across his stomach.

You try to pull away from him, but he reaches out to grip your wrist in his hand, calluses warm against your soft skin.

When Ghost speaks, you can tell he's not looking at you - the light in the room enough for you to see his face is turned away from you.

"Tell me to leave." His voice is rough, low.

"Ghost I-"

"My name is Simon."

He turns, forcing you to shift onto your back. Ghost - Simon - hovers above you, looking down at you finally. Your pinned under the weight of his gaze, a heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. He's so large above you - just like you'd imagined when you-

"Tell me to leave. Please."

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, he presses into your harder, his grip on your wrist tighter. You know there will be a bruise there tomorrow.

"Why should I tell you that?" Your voice is syrup thick, you bend your knee, trying to push yourself closer to Simon.

You can't see his face in the dark, but you can see his thoughts in his eyes, trying to figure out what to say, what to do.

You reach up with your spare hand, brushing your fingers against his jaw. Simon jerks back, pulling away from you, and dropping your hand. Before you can push yourself up in bed, Simon is gone, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

[cheolsblackgf]

bags

⇒ woozi x reader

⇒ word count: 750 (it was last time i checked, but then i added some stuff so just disregard this)

⇒ warnings: none

⇒ content: certified fluff zone; established relationship with dare I say tsundere!jihoon

⇒ note: enjoy ♡

“i’m bored.” you say, throwing another crumbled paper ball in the recycling bin. your boyfriend’s eyes dart to you quickly, before going back to his computer screen. “you’re always bored when you come here,” he remarks, followed by some audible clicking, “I don’t know why you keep coming.” he adds in a barely audible voice. you pretend you don’t hear him, and he pretends he didn’t say anything. he knows why you come here every tuesday after work and he loves when you come, though he won’t say it in as many words. ever since you first got into a relationship with him, he’s made it seem like he doesn’t like having you around. though it’s probably because his confession could’ve been described as embarrassing, you don’t see it that way. (your name spelled (incorrectly) in butter on a piece of toast, followed by “I like you”.)

at that point in your life, you didn’t have an adequate amount of time to make breakfast since you were always running late, so it was always toast. he picked up on that and managed to catch you one day outside of your office building. the piece of toast was cold, and the butter was barely visible, but he had a whole little speech planned out and even through the obvious sleep deprivation, he was adorable and you’ve liked him ever since.

now, in order to somehow make up for the dignity he supposedly lost during that encounter (and the relentless teasing from you), he pretends you’re a nuisance any chance he gets. at first, you just thought he was being silly, but over time, and the more he called you silly names very obviously filled with love like “dummy” (your favourite) among others, you realised he was totally committed to this bit. it didn’t annoy you like it may annoy someone else because he’s jihoon, and you know what he’s capable of.

about six months from the beginning of your relationship, jihoon invited you to his workplace. it’s a cozy little studio on the middle floor of a big building in the city. it’s about a fifteen minute walk from your office, but you don’t mind it.

at the start, he wasn’t really meaning for it to become a routine or expecting you to come each time, but the more he invited you, the more you built it into your schedule. tuesday was always the golden day. work ends early for you on that day, and you don’t have as many errands.

he always orders takeout for you when he knows you’re coming by, too, which might be the sweetest thing. you don’t always get to eat lunch on tuesdays because you wouldn’t be able to leave early if you took the optional lunch break they offered at your office. jihoon knows this, and he always makes sure to ask you what you’re feeling that day so he can order accordingly.

today, he ordered fish and chips from the “anything” restaurant down the street. he never gets anything when he orders you food, but he “tastes” your food each time. so much so that you portion off every meal with him. this should bug you, but how could it? you almost never finish all your food by yourself anyways.

“oh shit,” you exclaim as a notification comes through your phone. it’s the grocery carrier announcing your groceries being dropped off. “I have to go, my groceries are sitting outside my doorstep and I don’t want them to go bad. damn, I thought he would’ve come later.” you curse. when they say speedy delivery, they mean it.

jihoon’s pout is barely visible, but when he turns to look at you, you see he’s not thrilled to hear you’re leaving. he goes to grab your bag from the hook on the wall for you, but moves like there’s double sided tape on the bottom of his shoes.

you get up and tidy your area before going to stand in front of your boyfriend to bid him goodbye. he grabs both your arms and pulls you in, causing you to completely forget your script. “see you later.” he says placing a fairly quick peck to your lips. he lets you go soon after, but when you don’t move, he’s confused.

“do that again.” you request. jihoon doesn’t usually kiss you. he’s usually on the receiving end because his version of affection involves less intimate contact, which is fine with you. it won’t stop you from kissing him, though.

“you’re pathetic.” he replies, and kisses you again. “okay, again.”

“your groceries–” he reminds you, though you haven’t forgotten. to hell with the goddamn groceries.

“it’s just yogurt. kiss me again.”

“okay, okay!”

[ggomos-maribat]

3 | in which Jason Todd is saved from a catfish

Part 3 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist

Jason didn't visit the WE building often and he preferred not to anyway. But he had to drop off case files in Bruce's office and receive a lead from the Replacement. He had his phone on one hand, and envelopes in another as he entered the lavish room. Upon finding the space empty, he dropped the files on the desk and ventured outside to ask the assistant.

"Where's Bruce?" His eyes landed on the petite girl, hair neatly tucked in a ponytail and face curled up in concentration.

"Bathroom." Not once did she unglue her gaze from the monitor. "You're chatting with a catfish by the way."

"What?"

"Your phone. Tinder? That match of yours is a catfish."

Jason looked at his phone and then back at her. When did she even see? He'd heard about the girl, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Personal assistant to Bruce for nearly five months already. The Replacement described her as a miracle worker. Dick liked her because she was good with kids. The demon child said she was eccentric. And Bruce? Every time he talked about her, Jason sensed that he had a new potential adoptive sister.

Though witnessing her behavior firsthand . . . Jason wasn't sure what to think.

"How'd you know?" Jason checked his screen—Gail, a stranger he managed to chat up so he could go undercover during their scheduled dinner date. Partly a cover, but partly just to meet someone new.

"It's obvious by how she replies and that profile photo is clearly fake." She shrugged.

"It's not." Jason was starting to have doubts. Was he a 'boomer' with technology after all, because of his death and revival?

She finally looked at him properly, though bearing a very very judgmental gaze that almost made him squirm. "A catfish is—"

"I know what a catfish is," Jason grumbled a bit too hastily.

"I really advise you to reconsider, Mr. Todd. Sooner or later, this possible middle-aged scammer will try to rob you of your money." Marinette lent her attention back to the computer. "Then ghost you."

"What, like you can find me a better partner?"

"For fun or for long-term commitment?"

Jason opened his mouth yet no sound came out. I don't know if she's joking or not.

Marinette spoke again after his lack of reply. "If you're looking to pursue a real relationship, I suggest considering those who are already close to you. But if it's just a fling, I'll be happy to find potential dates according to your preferences."

He frowned. He already invested too much effort and time befriending his match. But his subconscious betrayed him by letting him think of someone when she uttered her first statement. A red-haired someone. Damn it.

He snorted and started to walk away. "Whatever. I can get my own dates, thank you."

Unlocking his phone once again, he started to make a background check on 'Gail' while looking up what 'ghost' meant.

***

Bruce walked up to his assistant's desk. "I just passed Jason and he seemed out of it. Do you know what happened?"

Marinette only glanced at him for a second. "You don't need to know the specifics of it, sir. Let's just say your second son might not be a bachelor for life after all."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

***

The night was chilly and serene for some odd reason. The dry cloudless sky was a blessing for the city, granting it a peaceful ambience despite, still, the crimes occurring into the late hours. A few vehicles hummed on the road, streetlights buzzed while flickering on and off, and shadows of stray animals crept up window ledges.

Although Gotham was quiet, Bruce's heart wasn't. He fucked up. His grappling gun was cracked from a scuffle earlier that night, and the nearest most convenient place to get a spare was his office in WE. He managed to grapple through the window before the tool finally fell apart.

Now, I just need to find it . . . Batman started rummaging through the drawers, opening all the secret compartments he knew. He was certain he'd left it in some hidden nook, separate from where he kept his backup suit and tools.

He found the grappling gun at last, nestled amongst dusty office supplies inside a box. But the second he lifted it, the door creaked open.

"Who's there?!"

He felt the coldest shiver right under his skin.

He completely forgot Marinette was staying in the building for overtime. There she was, brandishing a kitchen knife at him (where did she even get it? The break room?) and if she wasn't menacing before, she certainly looked menacing at that moment.

"Batman?" She narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here? Are you stealing from this office?"

Bruce's eyes slightly widened beneath his cowl. Fuck secret identities. Situations like these were always frustrating. He quickly hid the grappling gun away from her view before saying, "I had something to retrieve from here."

He needed to chant to himself: don't you dare use your soft voice. She doesn't know who you are.

Marinette scoffed. "With Mr. Wayne's agreement?"

"Yes. We had a previous deal. He knows I'm here."

"Oh really?" She reached into her pocket and brought out her phone. "So if I call Mr. Wayne right now to confirm, he's going to agree with you, yes?"

His grip tightened on his only escape plan. If I can just get to the window . . .

"Don't move!" Marinette held the knife out as she called his number. "Or else I'm throwing this knife at you."

Bruce wanted to believe that she wouldn't have the skills to actually hit him with that knife, but a part of him wouldn't take the risk. His assistant's steely eyes were piercing him through the dark, almost reminding him of the times when he missed important appointments she consistently reminded him of.

And of course, the phone continued ringing because his business phone was all the way back in the Manor. After no response, she stepped forward with the weapon still out.

"Since he can't confirm at the moment, I'm keeping you here until the police arrive," she told him.

"You can let me go," he replied. "Bruce Wayne is an associate of mine, I've no other reason for being here."

"You're investigating him, aren't you? You have no right to break into his office!" She scowled. "You're so nosy because of your damned paranoia."

"He helps fund the Justice League. There's no reason for me to investigate him."

"He has no interest in things like that; he already funds most of Gotham."

"Hn. What if I told you this was actually my office?"

Marinette scoffed. "I believe Mr. Wayne has more dignity than dressing up as a bat furry every night to beat people up."

That did it for Bruce. Firstly, his mind went blank at that comment as he wondered how he got an assistant so competent that it was backfiring on his alter ego.

Secondly, he was hearing laughter.

He forgot to turn off his comms.

His hand flew up to his earpiece at lightning speed to turn it off. As a split-second decision, he flicked a Batarang to pin her sleeve to the wall and make her drop the knife, before he shot the grapple and swung out. He was afraid that the longer he stayed there, the higher the chance he'd actually reveal his identity to her.

But when he landed on another building, guilt immediately took over. He turned on his comms again. "Oracle, do you have eyes inside the office?"

A long sigh sounded out from Barbara. "Yes, B, she's a big girl—she freed herself from the Batarang."

He let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

". . . And I saved the video recording of the whole thing." To this, laughter echoed into his ear again.

"Tt. You shouldn't have thrown the Batarang, Father, she wasn't at fault." Damian's voice cracked through. "She heard and intercepted an intruder, albeit in a dangerous manner, and she called to check if what you were saying was true."

"I'm sorry, I panicked," Bruce grumbled. He had to make sure to give her a bonus that month. 

[k9wa]

༊*·˚ COLLEGE CLICHES. featuring haruchiyo sanzu, manjiro sano, keisuke baji, ken ryuguji, takashi mitsuya.

∴ SYNOPSIS : sappy and stupid college cliches i think the tokyo rev boys would fit.

∴ CONTENT : highschooler tries to write about college, fluff if you squint, this is a little silly, gn reader (no referring pronouns.)

∴ NOTE : if u would wanna see this with a few other characters feel free to lmk! hope u enjoy :]

༉‧₊˚. HARUCHIYO SANZU — who is your lifeline in adv calc, when your teacher is the biggest asshole and neither of you are as good at math as you thought.

⠀

sanzu slowly rubbed over the skin on his face as his eyes danced between his computer screen and textbook, and he came to the conclusion he genuinely had wanted to just die right then and there. 

his professor was driving him absolutely insane; another old man with a stick up his ass, who he swore only took up teaching to make a bunch of college kids feel like idiots, and it didn’t help that he was shit at his job either. sanzu wasn’t built for school, let alone calculus, and every day he remained in that class he questioned what the fuck possessed him to take it in the first place.

he threw the cover of his textbook closed and picked up his phone, opening his messages to the only reason he hadn’t dropped the aforementioned course.

sanzu: this prof is fucked

sanzu: like seriously wtf is half of this shit

♡: switch courses i dare u

sanzu smirked down at his phone when you had responded so quickly.

you two had made an agreement upon meeting at the beginning of the semester, and quickly bonding over your regret for choosing adv calc; the first person to drop the course owed the other one $100. (a good chunk of money, considering you were both broke.) it was the start of a beautiful friendship, and an even more passionate shared hatred for the man you were meant to be learning under. plus, haruchiyo couldn’t deny that he enjoyed talking to you outside of complaints and 3am meltdowns over whatever the hell the derivative matrix was.

♡: or come study with me

♡: cus idk wtf im doing either

sanzu: switch courses i dare u

♡: kys come over

sanzu snorted to himself, swiftly turning around in his chair and throwing his belongings into his cross body bag. as shitty as his class was, at least he had met someone worth sticking around in it for.

sanzu: im omw relax

♡: can u get coffee on ur way

sanzu: what happened to please

♡: please haruchiyo my favourite man in the whole entire world

sanzu: drop calc with me and i will

♡: shut up tbh

it was worth a shot.

༉‧₊˚. MANJIRO SANO

— who hit a volleyball straight into your cranium and insisted he buy you lunch as an apology.

⠀

embarrassed was an understatement for what you felt.

it was like some terrible romcom, something you only see happen in movies with an unrealistic representation of what post-secondary school was actually like.

some blonde boy— one who you’re sure you could have gone your entire life without knowing rather peacefully— handed you a bag of ice, along with a neatly wrapped egg sandwich from the cafe he’d dragged you to.

“you sure your head is okay?” he watched as you pressed the cold plastic to the back of your skull.

“yeah, i don’t think it hit me as hard as it looked.”

“well, it did kinda knock you off your feet.”

you glared at mikey, and he had to stifle a laugh at the expression on your face.

“i’m sorry! you’ve gotta admit it’s kinda funny right?”

you used your teeth to unwrap some of the parchment paper and took a bite from your sandwich, at least the food was good.

“you nearly took my head off.”

“well it's less funny when you put it like that.”

you couldn’t stop the chuckle that slipped past your lips at how casual he was being, despite the context that you were two total strangers.

“seriously though, ‘m sorry. y’know i never would have hit you if i was playing soccer, volleyball is a shit sport anyway” the way he crossed his arms and pouted like a little kid was the slightest bit endearing. “i mean, why use your hands when your feet work so much better?”

maybe it was the spur of the moment, or the likely concussion giving you a skewed sense of judgement, but part of your brain was starting to like him.

mikey couldn’t explain it either, but a similar part of his brain was glad he had gotten the chance to meet you, though the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“hmmm…i dunno,“

he tilted his head at you, wondering where your sentence was headed.

“i think you’re gonna have to buy me lunch a couple more times to make up for it.”

mikey couldn’t help but smile, he poked your forehead.

“i must have hit you way harder than i thought.”

༉‧₊˚. KEISUKE BAJI

— who always throws the best parties, but never actually enjoys them unless you show up.

⠀

the pounding on the door of your dorm was quick to pull you out of your focus, forcing your nose out of your books. there was only one person who would knock so aggressively at such an ungodly hour, and he’s lucky your desk chair was becoming uncomfortable and you were planning on getting up to stretch your legs anyway.

swinging the door open, there stood baji, hair tied loosely into a bun at the back of his head, and two coolers occupying each of his palms.

he handed one to you, you gladly took it.

“so this is what you’re doin’ instead of partying with me right now?”

keisuke followed you into your dorm, making himself comfortable on top of your bed, you sat on the free space beside him as you cracked open the can in your hand.

“i told you i couldn’t come like, three days ago.” he groaned at your answer.

“i didn’t think that meant y’would actually flake!” you chuckled as you sipped at your drink, eyes playfully rolling back.

“you’re gonna thank me when this exam rolls around and i actually have notes to give you.”

baji’s lips formed a tight line, he hated when you were right.

“what’s the big deal if i didn’t go? literally almost half of campus showed up at your dorm hall anyway.”

he groaned again, yet louder this time, sitting up so he could open his own drink. he reached his free hand out to flick you right in the tip of your nose, earning a quiet ‘ow..’ from you.

“cus it’s lame when you don’t come around!! and who else is gonna take care of me after i blackout huh?” he took a long swig from the can in his fist.

“how about you go drink your body weight and i’ll come get you in an hour?” although the offer was tempting, and you could see keisuke consider it for a moment, he shook his head and flopped back down on your bed.

“nah, rather chill with you anyway.”

he reached over to hold his drink in the air beside you, and you gently cheersed his can, being careful not to spill any liquid on your bed.

“so, the hell is the exam s’posed to be about anyway?”

༉‧₊˚. KEN RYUGUJI

— who sits in front of you in engineering, and covers up the entire white board in front of you.

⠀

not one note.

not one single note in your binder was finished, all half written or only partially filled out. you wouldn’t have bothered spending the money on equipment to take cute notes if you had known some giant would be sitting in front of you. how were you meant to write anything down when you couldn’t even see the damn board?

at first he intimidated you, how could you not be at least a little afraid of a man who stood at nearly twice your size? however, that intimidation quickly turned into pure irritation upon another day of more blank paper, and you were following him out of the room at the end of class before you had a chance to react.

“hey, you.” 

ken turned around to see who was calling out to, who he assumed to be, him. 

“oh, hey—“

“you’re switching seats with me tomorrow .”

“…why—?“

“because you’re way too big and i can’t see anything past you when you’re in front of me! and i am way too behind in my notes to even hope to pass anymore unless i get caught up!”

ryuguji stared down at you, who was oh so short and angry, while blinking silently as he processed the words being said to him. it was surprising how small you started to feel so quickly when he had to crane his neck down to make eye contact.

“we’re like, two weeks into the semester and you’re telling me this now? i would have moved if y’had said something sooner.” ken chuckled and placed a hand on his hip, leaning down to your height with the most smug look suddenly dawning on his features. you opened your mouth to respond, yet only a jumble of stutters fell off your tongue. the irritation had subsided, and the intimidation was back in full throttle.

“i'll tell you what,” he began, “why don’t you sit beside me tomorrow, and i'll share my notes with you so you can catch up.”

well,

you supposed that would work. 

“my way of apologizing for bein’ ‘way too big.’”

…you really did need those notes.

“okay, fine. that’s fine.” with a small bow, you turned around to begin your route to your next class, eager to run away from the awkward conversation you’d stuck yourself in.

“thanks, um, tall…guy— whatever your name is.”

and as quickly as you came, there you went. 

it was about to be a whole other problem when the next day rolled around, and you would discover ryuguji’s terrible handwriting.

༉‧₊˚. TAKASHI MITSUYA

— who is your favourite study buddy, and knows your cafe order by heart.

⠀

the smell of freshly brewed espresso and slightly stale confections danced through the air, a comfortable aroma for mitsuya to sit in while he scribbled at a design that had been picking his brain all day. the headphones in his ears played some random pre-made lo-fi playlist as he sipped his coffee (—black, 2 sugars) that had long turned lukewarm, yet was just hot enough to warm his palm through the paper cup. the booth by the window he was slouched in was empty, save for him of course, and he waited ever so patiently for his classmate to join him and fill the space across from him.

the sound of the cheap bell above the cafe’s doors chiming alerted him that you had finally arrived, and he pried his attention away from his doodles to see you shuffling over to the spot you both had become perfectly familiar with, laptop in hand along with a knit hat and matching scarf keeping you warm from the autumn breeze.

“how late am i?” you plopped down in your seat, placing the tote bag hanging from your shoulder onto the seat beside you.

“probably,” he checked his phone, “twenty minutes.” mitsuya pulled his headphones down so they sat slack around his neck. 

you groaned at his answer, you hadn’t meant to have gotten so hung up with club activities.

“i’m sorry, this stupid– festival is seriously giving us a run for our money. i didn’t even realize what time it was.”

takashi listened to you intently, nodding his head quietly as he pushed a small plate towards you; a croissant decorated in your favourite jelly, as well as a coffee cup similar to his own, the only difference being the mound of cream and sweetener inside yours.

the action had become so normal, you hadn’t even paid any mind to the way he would always order for you anymore, having your order ready by the time you arrived to meet him was just the usual.

mitsuya truly remembered the littlest details about your coffee order, from how thick you liked the foam on top to the temperature. not to mention his mental database of the variety of pastries you would eat alongside them.

“tell me about it. what’s your club doing again?”

he remembered, takashi just enjoyed the way you got so excited talking about it.

he listened to the way you rambled on, the way you so easily talked to him, how you could do it for hours, and not once would he be anywhere near sick of hearing the sound of your voice

⠀ ⠀ ⠀m.list⠀ ღ⠀send me an ask!⠀ ღ⠀navi

[armpirate]

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 6

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit. 

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 14 minutes

Y/n stopped in the middle of her office, finally lifting her gaze from the screen of her phone to see a big bucket of pink camellias invading her desk. She pursed her lips in her confusion, looking back at Jennifer's desk to find her in her business, head almost stuck to the screen as she worked on one of the sheets she had asked her to take care of.

—Jen —the girl lifted her head, looking around lost as she tried to tell where the voice came from—, can you come here for a second? —she waved her hand, getting her secretary to get that move from the corner of her eye.

She moved almost instantly, dragging her office chair as far from the desk as possible to make a subtle trot to where her boss was.

—The delivery man sent it this morning while you were in a meeting —she let her know—. They're beautiful, aren't they?

—Umm well, they aren't my favorite type, but they're cute —she shrugged.

—I believe there's also a note —Jennifer let her know, pointing at the bucket.

Y/n stepped towards the bucket, finding indeed a pale blue note among the flowers. When she took it, she could see Jennifer's playful smile waiting for her to read out loud the note, although she opted to read it silently instead.

"I adore you, as certain dark things are to be admired -in secret, between the shadow and the soul" xx

—It just has a Pablo Neruda quote on it, with a few words changed —she mentioned as she frowned—. Did the delivery man say who it came from?

—No, he just asked for you and left it in your office since you weren't here —Y/n tilted her head at Jennifer's information.

For a minute, she hoped those flowers would be coming from San. A cheesy, yet distant way to try to get her attention back after literally disappearing from everywhere but Soundleasure, but she knew it was just that: hope. Someone that disappeared that way and didn't dare to give an explanation as to why he didn't ever reply back to her wouldn't bother sending flowers. And it wasn't like he knew where she worked either.

Could be they were from the new match on Tinder that would take her on a date later? Although the quote in the note didn't make much sense. But it wasn't like she expected anyone there to be a perfectionist with something like that to know what that quote meant.

—Anyways —Y/n rolled her eyes, dropping the note to her desk—, how's your sister? Did she adapt well to college?

Not long ago Jennifer seemed more stressed than usual, always taking guilty looks at her screen to go back to the computer's monitor and enter a cycle that seemed exhausting from afar. Until Y/n asked her to her office to learn what kept her so distracted. The fact that her little sister was moving in to Boston to start the new semester there, while Jennifer wasn't able to assist her because she needed to be in her workplace made her be everywhere, but nowhere at the same time. At least until Y/n managed to give her a few days off so she could be able to guide her, and take her to all the important places she'd need to know while she stayed there.

—I think she adapted better than I ever did —she joked—. Thanks again for those days off. I know it wasn't the best time to be missing.

—Don't worry. I managed to work well —Y/n tried to calm her down—. You've always done a good job, and you've never missed a day. It was the least I could do for you.

Jennifer's smile widened at Y/n's words, feeling proud by the several praises she threw at her while reassuring her everything was alright.

—Do you need anything else?

—No, sorry to have bothered you with that —she shook her hand in the air, pointing at the bucket—. You can go back to your things.

Jennifer smiled and nodded one last time, giving her boss one last look before she stepped outside the office, closing the door behind her. The focus in her work lasted two minutes only, before she could sense the tension from everyone outside. As she lifted her eyes from the screen, she saw everyone in her team, including Jennifer, looking at the four people carrying boxes filled with their things. All of the members of her team lowered their gaze, looking back at their tables with guilt as their ex colleagues walked past them.

She knew everyone was worried about the ramp down, that was why she held a meeting with the team to reassure them that they were going nowhere. She gave no explanations as to why, she just let them know it was certain they'd keep their jobs. Although her choice not to tell why her team stayed, while the others had to go without two members each, had her receiving accusing looks almost instantly. Of course everyone would think her team was kept intact because she was the big boss' daughter, instead of thinking she did something that neither of the other supervisors would think of doing. And it wasn't like she expected anyone to reduce their salary for someone else either.

If she felt uncomfortable before, it got worse after it was known who was leaving the company. It was evident. When she stepped in a room, everyone either shut up or changed their conversation drastically -and she had been there long enough to tell when the conversation made no sense because they weren't talking about that since the beginning. And it got even worse with the people at her level, throwing condescending looks at her because she managed to get her staff intact, because she thought she was "better than them".

It didn't matter how uncomfortable she had to feel, it was the price to pay for her position. Being one of the managers, and at the same time the daughter of the one in charge of everyone, wasn't an easy task. Definitely not emotionally.

She remembered a few years back, when she first joined the company as a normal agent, and as soon as it was known whose daughter she was, when she drove almost every day back home while crying, barely able to see through the blurry vision. She stepped inside the office and she was alone. Her supervisors gave her the cold treatment because they knew she would receive a promotion no matter what, her colleagues ignored her because they only saw her name and not how she was carrying the work of the whole team on her back. And just when it all started getting better, everything was going back to that dark place she thought she managed to leave. With the only difference that she grew some thicker skin, evolving those tears into some unexplainable rage and some muttering nonsense that she hissed to herself until she closed the door to her penthouse.

And that day would be no different. She kept ranting while being stuck in traffic, saying out loud everything she wasn't allowed to say back in the office because she was expected to keep her composure.

—Y'all think you could do my work better than me... Fine, take it. I'm so fucking done at this point —she huffed, rolling her eyes as her hands worked on the wheel—. Jesus fucking Christ, why couldn't my dad just let me stay at home and be a proper daddy's girl? Why do you —she pointed at her reflection in the rear view— also need to prove anything? Seriously.

At that point she was more upset at herself than her situation. She hated how weak she felt, how she allowed those looks and unheard comments get to her, when she had no reason to let them all get over her mood like that.

—And why did I even agree to go on that date now? —she sobbed, getting inside— You're so dumb, really.

It wasn't like it was going to be something new. That guy probably would try to shoot his shot, try his luck with her while being an ass, and probably would run away as soon as he saw that wouldn't work with her.

She was too busy talking to herself, regretting her decisions, to be able to calculate the moves of her car properly. Before she was able to, a cracking sound was heard above the music that was playing on the radio, making her heart stop almost instantly.

If she doubted things could get any worse, there was the confirmation that indeed they could. She moved the wheel all over again, redirecting her car and giving it more space to fit into the space, just seeing the black paint of her car on the orange column. Her heart stopped when she got out, to check the disaster her distractions made. And right at the worst time, because she had just enough money to make it through the month. That repair was something she probably wouldn't be able to handle anytime soon.

"Why couldn't this happen last month?"

San had his two hands in his pockets, overhearing Wooyoung and Mingi bickering on each of his sides, using him as a shield whenever the other got too heated up in the conversation.

—I'm just saying you always choose what we eat when we go out —Mingi complained.

—That's not true. Last time it was San the one choosing.

—But San's are always a good pick. We ended up in McDonald's because you insisted on going to the empty Greek restaurant.

—Because we always eat the same —Wooyoung replied back, stepping forward to be able to see Mingi.

—There are a lot of Greek restaurants in Boston, and you took us to the worst one —his index accused him, pointing towards his face to remark the fact that their lunch was more expensive because of him.

—Didn't we eat already? —San sighed, stepping in to put a stop to an argument that had been going for way too long— Wooyoung could have no idea it was a shitty place, it's not his fault. It's already done, so let's just enjoy the rest of the day.

—Thank you —he applauded, dedicating him a complicit smile.

He could understand Mingi's annoyance. With his scholar salary, Mingi made enough to pay the bills and treat himself to something every once in a while. It was fair he was annoyed because he spent that part of his money on food he didn't even like. But blaming Wooyoung for it wouldn't change things. He didn't make them eat there on purpose, San knew he was already feeling guilty even if he hid it with that sassy attitude that got both of them on their nerves sometimes. He was certain his friend was already thinking of a way to make it up for them, even if there wasn't anything to really make up for.

—What if I buy you some ice cream? —Wooyoung walked in front of San, now standing between the two.

—Ice cream? Do you think I'm six? —Mingi inquired, frowning at the suggestion— Ice cream and I pick what we watch on TV today.

—Aren't the boys coming over tonight though? —San reminded, sure that both of them had mentioned how the group would reunite in their apartment.

—That's true —Wooyoung gasped.

—Then tomorrow. I pick what we watch tomorrow.

San couldn't help but smile when he realized the argument came to an end with Wooyoung wrapping one of his arms around Mingi's neck and ghosting his stomach with the bandaged one, while he just tried to keep walking and get away from his embrace -even if that meant dragging him on their way to the ice cream shop.

He was immersed in the silence that peace brought, at least until Mingi spoke again.

—San...

—Hmm? —he barely lifted his head to him.

—Isn't that your girlfriend?

Girlfriend? What girlfriend?

San looked confused at him, frowning while his friend just gave him a concerned look before he pointed to one spot in concrete to redirect San's eyes there.

All the muscles in his body tensed when he indeed saw Y/n from afar, trying to think of the best way to get out of there smoothly, but just being able to damn himself for ever bringing up that she was ever his girlfriend.

He understood why his friends were looking at him like that. Meters away, Y/n was smiling cozily to another taller man, tilting her head as they talked. To them that looked suspicious, and it made complete sense from their perspective.

—No, it's not —San assured—. The ice cream shop is in that direction.

—Sannie, that is your girlfriend —Wooyoung confirmed—. She just... cut her hair?

At that moment was when he regretted showing him a better picture of Y/n, where it was easier to spot her features. He never thought they'd ever come across her in the middle of the street, he actually never thought he'd see her or talk to her ever again, but there she was.

Either he did something, or he'd have to give a lot of explanations after Wooyoung pulled a scene. Which was something bound to happen by the way Y/n and that boy kept getting closer.

Y/n looked at Oliver, finding herself surprised at the way everything turned out quite well. He picked a coffee shop to have a good chat, crowded enough for her to feel comfortable, but not that crowded so they wouldn't be able to keep up with what the other said. And he was also a ten physically, with those big green eyes that made his caramel short hair stand out. He was the best thing that happened to her on that awful day, and it was a reality that she'd go on a second date with him if he ever talked with her again after they parted ways in a matter of minutes.

—Before I forget, thanks for the flowers.

—What flowers? —he asked, with a timid smile.

—Oh, it wasn't you? —she frowned.

He shook his head again, leaving her back not knowing who was the person behind them. Although it wasn't like she genuinely cared about it. It probably was someone in the company playing with her.

Oliver stepped a bit closer, making it clear at that point what his intentions were.

Her tongue moved over her lower lip, moistening it up and getting ready for something that was obvious to happen. Their heads moved to link their lips together, there was no way that anything could ruin that.

But oh, how wrong she was.

She wasn't allowed to advance much more, before her lips collided against a dry and soft surface, opening her eyes wide to find a different face receiving a kiss on the cheek.

—What the fuck is wrong with you? —Oliver pushed the boy away from them.

But he held onto Y/n's arm, pulling her to him while she just tried to get rid of his grip. She stopped resisting when he finally turned to her completely. Confusion, shock and panic slowly left her body to be replaced by rage.

—You —she squinted her eyes at him.

—I need you. Just one second —he begged.

—Do you know him? —Oliver questioned.

His expression totally changed in a matter of seconds. That cute and soft smile was gone, and he was giving her a furrowed look, filled with annoyance. His tone was also harsh on her, as if she was the one to blame for what happened.

—Yeah, but...

San held her arm, with a desperate grip that wasn't that hard to hurt her. He just wanted her to follow him inside the coffee show she was standing outside of, away from the curious looks his friends were probably giving them.

—What are you doing? —she finally asked, getting away from his fingers when they reached the corridor to the restrooms— One day you disappear, and the other you get in the middle of a kiss? What's wrong with you?

—I know I messed it up big time with you. I know I have no right to ask anything from you, but I seriously need your help.

Y/n scoffed, thinking he had to be playing with her. San wasn't actually asking her a favor after basically ghosting her for no reason, wasn't he?

—My friends think you're my girlfriend —he informed her quickly—. I didn't know what to say when they caught me talking with you. And now they saw you with that other guy, while thinking you're still dating me, and...

—And why didn't you tell them we broke up? —she asked, lifting one of her eyebrows— I don't know, make something up. I bet they're more than used to it.

He couldn't blame her for being mad at him for ignoring her, and he wasn't surprised at the idea she got of him after he disappeared out of fear. The obvious answer from her was that he was a player, who texted her until it stopped being fun to jump onto the next one.

—If I tell them we broke up, they'll be a pain in the ass about it.

First girlfriend, and it barely lasted a month. He could already hear Wooyoung's and Mingi's comments while teasing him.

—Remind me how that's my problem?

—Pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for today —he asked her.

—To be your what? —she cackled— Are you insane?

Before she was able to reject him a second time, San sank to his knees in front of her, making some of the tables near the corridor, and those who were able to witness what was going on, turn to them.

—I'll do whatever you want —he assured her—. Just tell me what you need.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head while trying to keep him from rubbing that soft spot she had that'd lead her to blindly help others.

He didn't deserve it.

—I'll return the subscriptions if you want. But please...

—The subscriptions? —she suddenly asked.

If he gave her back that money, she'd be able to pay for the repair of the car with no problems.

San gave her hopeful eyes as he looked up to her after her question. He didn't know that linking their pupils together could be the biggest mistake for her, but she still dropped her gaze, trying to let him know that she wouldn't do it.

Who in their sane mind would help someone to convince his friends they were dating when he ghosted her weeks back? It made no sense.

[coming-lieutenant]

Hello!

Got another idea about younger detective and how Hank can't believe she likes him, so he thinks she spends time with them for Connor, until she's fed up with all of this and kisses him. Maybe in front of DPD 👀.

Thanks Queen/King/any other royality you might identifies with 💖😌

Get a Fucking Clue

A/N: Sorry for the delay 😭 my life literally imploded over the last week and a half and I finally got the ship back on course. I hope you enjoy it!! I’m so sorry it took me so long!

~

Cool, refreshing air envelopes your body, a comforting contrast to the summer heat outside as you walk step into the Detroit Police Precinct. Today marks the beginning of a new journey for you as a criminal investigator. Over are the days of sitting on the side of the road, in alleys, waiting for someone to break into a building, mug some unsuspecting passerby, or any of the other unsavory activities that occur under the moonlight of this restless city. Now, you get to work among some of DPD’s finest on the scenes of the crimes, solving crimes with much higher stakes.

You take a breath, trying to keep yourself cool and collected as you walk into the Bull Pen. You’ve been in here before, but typically you didn’t spend much time here. You walk through, looking at the desks, looking for the lieutenant and his partner you’ve been assigned to train under. You see a man, or android, rather, as you can tell by the bright blue LED on his temple, sitting at a desk. You recall being told the partner in question was an android detective sent by Cyberlife, and though you don’t see anyone sitting with him, you approach anyway.

“Hello. You must be Connor,” you say, greeting the android as you walk up to the desk. He looks up from his computer at you. “Hello,” he says, giving you a warm smile, “I am in fact. Can I help you with something?” You look at the empty desk across from him. “Have you seen Lieutenant Anderson this morning?” You ask, puzzled by his absence. Connor smiles again. “It would be surprising if I had. I’ll call him and let him know you’re here.” He picks up his phone, calling Lieutenant Anderson. He looks mildly surprised as his call is answered. “Lieutenant? Our trainee is here. She wishes to meet you.” He’s quiet for a moment, seemingly listening to the response. “Alright. I’ll let her know.” Connor hangs up the phone, looking to you, “He wanted me to inform you he’ll be here in fifteen minutes. He said you may sit at his desk until he arrives if you want.” You smile, nodding. “I think I will.”

You sit at his desk, taking in the various items he has scattered around. He’s got a little plant, which makes you smile, and a picture of a saint bernard dog. He’s also got stickers all over his computer screen, almost completely covering the screen itself. You scan your eyes over the snarky and sarcastic stickers, referencing his disdain for his ex-wife, happy people, and complaints.

Just as you finish reading them, you catch the motion of someone approaching out of the corner of your eye. You look up to see a particularly tall man, taller than Connor, with shaggy, silver hair and a brown leather jacket approaching. You smile, standing up. “You must be Lieutenant Anderson,” you greet, holding your hand out for him to shake. He stands in front of you, an apathetic yet curious look on his face as he shakes your hand. The contact nearly sends a shiver down your spine, heat blossoming in your hand and running all the way up your arm, settling in your cheeks. “Unfortunately.” He responds, looking down at you. “Are you the new kid Fowler wants me to train?” Your smile falters a little bit, taken aback, but you’re not one to back down at the first sign of trouble. You stand up a little straighter, smiling at him confidently. “I actually have several years of patrol under my belt.” This makes him chuckle. “I consider ‘several’ five or more years. How many you got?” He retorts. You cross your arms, still smiling. “Four. But regardless, I’m not fresh meat, Lieutenant, and I’m sure someone as experienced as yourself will have no problem training me up in no time,” you quip. This finally gets you a smirk from the detective. He sits down in his chair, “I’ll see what I can do.”

-

Your training under Hank went like that for months. Sarcastic comments from Hank, witty replies thrown right back in his face from you, Connor being an unfortunate bystander, day in and day out. As the days went by, you found yourself growing… Particularly fond of Hank. It was nearing the end of your training, meaning working so closely alongside Hank and Connor was about to come to and end, and you would be assigned to cases on your own and eventually be issued your own partner. As exhilarating as it was, finally having the world in your hands, it was bittersweet. You found yourself waking up in the morning eager to go to work, and though you were in some degree of denial about it, deep down you knew you weren’t eager to work. You were eager to see Hank.

Hank was grumpy, cynical, and spiteful, yes. Absolutely he was. Concurrently, though, you knew that, much like Connor, he had grown a soft spot for you. In fact, much to Connor’s chagrin, he seemed to have more of a soft spot for you than he did for even his android partner. Of the three of you, you were the most likely to make mistakes. To get things wrong. Regardless, he always met your self criticisms with defensiveness. Defense of you. He never let you feel like you weren’t a good enough detective, or like you would never be able to make it on your own. And, though you would never let him know it, the banter between the two of you, when it happened, never failed to light a fire deep inside you. It was exhilarating to go back and forth with him, and you basked in the attention of it.

Nearing the end of your training with Hank, only weeks out from it, you found yourself standing outside of Chicken Feed with Hank. Connor sat in the car, as usual, seemingly wanting to give the two of you space as he slowly caught onto your feelings for Hank. You smile at Hank. “Only a couple more weeks of this, huh?” you quip. Hank chuckles. “Yep. You’re lucky, you only have to deal with two more weeks of this ugly mug. Connor over there has to put up with it until further notice,” he responds, motioning to Connor in the car with the sandwich in his hands. “You’re going to miss him, aren’t ya?” he says, laughing. A look of confusion spreads across your face, and you look at him with furrowed brows. “Miss who?” Hank gives you a knowing look. “Connor.” He says, as though it’s the most obvious statement in the world. You are thoroughly perplexed by this. “Oh, uh… Yeah? I guess so.” You’re not sure what the point of the question is, but you finish your lunch anyway, not much of a word from either of you as you finish eating.

Back at the station, Hank’s words repeat like a broken record in your head. You sit with him, once again in Connor’s absence, as the two of you quietly work on filing through cases. Suddenly, Hank speaks. “You know, I think you should tell him how you feel.” You sit up, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “Hank, what in god’s name are you talking about?” you demand, looking incredulously at him. He looks back up at him. “Connor. You should tell him how you feel. I mean, even when there’s no case, you’re always hanging around. You always seem to laugh when you’re with him, and you blush all the time. I think before your training is done, you should tell him how you feel.” You stand up, running your hand through your hair and sighing, pacing slightly away from your chair as you are struck with disbelief, not knowing how to respond. You’ve never in all your years seen someone be so dense. He starts to talk again. “Listen, I didn’t mean to stress you out, I just think-“ Suddenly, you know exactly what you should do. You spin on your heel, cutting him off as he speaks by grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips onto his. Hank’s hands are suspended in mid-air where they had been while he spoke, and they slowly move to your arms, gently touching you as he begins to kiss back. After a moment, you pull away, smiling. “Still think it’s Connor I’ve taken an interest in?” Hank stares at you, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips as seemingly the whole bull pen stares at the two of you in disbelief. Hank chuckles, speechless. And you smirk, returning to your chair, satisfied with yourself as you return to your work. Finally, the man has gotten a fucking clue.

[bucknastysbabe]

your pegging fic with bucky was SO FUCKING GOOD. can you please do another one?? like im literally so into it i was drooling the whole time

as for plot, just making him cry again LOL and overall just having him be a mess because

we love that for him.

thank you thank you thank you!

Bro I am so sorry I have no clue how this escalated. You have another free Bucky railing fic that doesn’t include my brain going wild. But he do be crying and a complete mess. Thanks for asking and I hope you are at the LEAST entertained!

Goes along with Praise Kink

Shadowplay - Joy Division

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3,882

Tags: TW‼️WHUMP, DEAD DOVE, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS, OFF SCREEN SUI‼️, Everyone is crazy, the reader is having a Hydra Life Crisis, Lots of ass play, pegging(m!receiving), fem dom, reader is ace spectrum, Bucky is a crybaby overstimulated touchstarved Angel, praise kink, slight dacry, angst ANGST ANGSTTTTT, switching pov’s like me in bed, they do a little Russian it’s called they do a little Russian, Hydra!Reader

A/N: idk man I’m just a vessel, also just liked the idea of there being a lead up to Buckbuck being like I Cannot Compute Anymore You Assholes then his boyfriend Steve saves the day💞 HC: Pierce likes Bucky be in emotional pain so sends him to her thinking he’ll kill the reader. Translations under cut

Russian translations: Милый (dear), блять (bitch/whore), глупая девчонка (foolish girl), Малыш (baby/bb boy), Умница (good boy), да (yes), хуй (cock), Трахни меня (fuck me), командир (commander), Спасибо (thanks/ty), зимний солдат (winter soldier)

To the center of the city where all roads meet, waiting for you.

To the depths of the ocean where all hopes sank, searching for you

The asset knew he had to report to his Komandir. That’s what happened every mission. They tried to tell the asset that Rumlow was his handler now. Rumlow was not his handler. Komandir was. But she had been gone for some time and he needed her back. The strike team leader was reckless and too bloodthirsty, not calculating enough. The asset could not say that out loud.

He trudged through dark alleys and poorly lit streets, rain pelting down on his leather tactical gear.

Nice Komandir. She was nice. The asset had unregulated emotions for her. He needed maintenance badly. First, the asset must give the mission report to her. The fake handler would be monitoring for the asset now, with their dogs and strike team.

Strike team would not find the asset. He will return himself after reporting to Komandir. The asset got intel on her whereabouts. She was relocated in New York under a new alias. The asset could almost smell her, see her, if he focused enough.

His boots slapped through a puddle before launching up a fire escape. The rain poured down harder— threatening to fill up the alley like an ocean. The asset would swim until his lungs gave out. The Director couldn’t take her away, putting her in an swarm of people or in the deepest cave. Because the asset would find her. She had to be locked up. She would never leave the asset.

They took her— he’d decided earlier after reporting to the pretender. The asset’s morale was sinking fast under Rumlow. That’s when the Director informed the asset on his Komandir. The Director had waved a hand dismissively, “Go find her then, do what you must and come back.” He didn’t understand but went out anyways.

I was moving through the silence without motion, waiting for you.

In a room with a window in the corner, I found truth.

Soldat climbed higher and higher until he was outside her window. He’d memorized it over and over and over and over. The asset grappled onto the thin balcony with a jump, using the moment to swing himself onto the platform. His covered eyes gathered the limited surroundings. A couple of flowerpots, an ashtray on the windowsill, and her familiar face gaping in the window.

The asset wanted to weep, kneel, receive her perfect touch. The asset only got stabs, bloody thrusts, and punches between his bloodshot eyes. Then wiped and put on ice. Although he hadn’t been put on ice much since transitioning to the United States. They had lots of people to get rid of before that. So the Director wiped him more often.

The window opened and her familiar rasp rang out in the rainy night, “Sweet soldier. You must be cold. Come in.” The asset nodded dumbly, shoving himself precariously through the window, contorting his broad shoulders and thighs to get through. Inside was a silent, thinly furnished room.

Cigarette stubbed beside the couch, the television playing something. His blues caught on a blanket and book, her handgun laid on top. Air blew the curtains softly from the window in the corner. The asset whimpered, “Where did you go Komandir?,” he fell to padded knees, “I cannot comply when Rumlow doesn’t have clearance for mission report.”

She cooed and stood tall as always, only clad in a thin gown. Komandir’s lips turned down at the mention of Rumlow. Her hands brushed his cheeks. Off came the goggles, then the mask. The asset’s wide blue eyes followed her obediently. One of her calloused thumbs strummed against his stubbled jaw. She said, “Sweetheart, I’m not officially your handler, not your Komandir anymore.”

He nuzzled into her hand, lips already wobbling. Why would they replace the best Komandir? She learned from Vasily Karpov, Vasily from…from. He couldn’t remember— there had been so many. One that smelled of aftershave and two older men with glasses that made him feel very cold.

She sighed, “They said I wasn’t worth their time sweet boy. I had to go.” The asset believed her, Komandir always told the truth. She knelt down and smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “You’re a star, precious, you shine so bright that not everyone can keep up with it.”

He replied, a ghostly whisper if anything, “The left me to Agent Rumlow. You couldn’t stay under him?”

Fear laced her stern features for the first time. The asset grew uneasy. His programming was screaming, “Maintenance! MAINTENANCE!” Her heart rate spiked rapidly while the agent fumbled for words. He gripped her wrist to bark, “You defected then! You defected like a coward and left me,” a sob tore his throat, “with them!”

His silver hand wrenched Komandir‘s other wrist towards him, her grunting in pain. Her breasts heaved as she panted. The asset glared her down, so many emotions swirling he felt he may explode. She lied to him. Why would she lie to him? Her star.

“Soldat. Status Report please,” she quavered.

Soldat’s tight shoulders relaxed minutely as he listed off, “Physical functions one-hundred percent. Maintenance required as soon as possible. Confusion, dangerously elevated norepinephrine, panic, traumatic response, and- and-,” he bit his tongue to stare. Komandir’s face was wrought with grief.

She murmured, climbing into the asset’s lap, “I need you to slow down comrade. It’s just you and me right now,” she pet his long locks to elicit that chest deep purr, “Can I tell you what happened while I get you clean sweet boy?”

The asset’s lids dropped at her soft body, familiar scent, and wise words. His plump lips trembled while whining, “P-please. I-I’m becoming…defective.”

“I know,” she soothed, “I know.”

In the shadowplay, acting out your own death, knowing no more.

As the assassins all grouped in four lines, dancing on the floor.

As the former agent pet her broken star her chest constricted with emotions. Pierce knew. The bond between asset and handler had grown entirely too close. He’d spat at her, “That thing is a weapon, not a puppy for you to coddle.” She wanted to tell the Director that a person could only go so long under this treatment before snapping completely. Render them useless to the plan. Whatever that may be.

Surprisingly Pierce had demoted her down to the lowest strike team squadron and elevated the prick Rumlow to be the next handler. The Director’s shiny teeth looked like fangs as he spoke, “I’ll keep you around because of your…skills. Any infractions you’re dead.”

So the former Komandir was a grunt again, under Strike Team Omega. They mainly went around sabotaging small terrorist cells. Soldat whined under her hand again, the woman tilting his wide eyes up. She frowned. Poor baby looked so broken, so lost. He had no clue he was going to leave here without his Komandir.

“Take off your gear, precious,” she ordered.

The Russian divested soldat of his guns and knives, laying them out on a neat line. She asked, “How much are they putting you on ice sweet boy?” His blues grew disoriented as he thought. Mechanical as ever, Soldat’s hands divested his leather top.

“Not much. More wipes. Something is coming.”

Something was coming. Maybe not now but in a couple of years. Pierce had something big. There was a reason scientists were holed up in one the hangars, crews building day and night. So they were over-using the soldier to make sure nothing crept out.

She thumbed the seam of scars along the asset’s prosthetic, the other’s hands jolting at the sensation. His pretty lips opened to whimper. Komandir unbuckled his belt and hummed, “They demoted me. I was with a lower strike team. I couldn’t take it anymore. W-without you I cannot provide anything useful for the greater cause.”

The woman remembered her last point. They were in Zagreb celebrating after a arms dealing commune was torn to shreds. Instead of going home, the team helped themselves to the women in trafficking. Assassins, warriors— dancing fools with these broken women. The former handler left and didn’t look back. She knew nothing. Hydra had a purpose once. It grew rancid just like everything else.

And with cold steel, odor on their bodies made a move to connect.

But I could only stare in disbelief as the crowds all left.

Alone in the world again. The Komandir wandered and wandered. Somehow always getting roped back into the underbelly of civilization. She told the silent asset about it. He seemed just as lost contemplating free will.

“I joined a couple of syndicates, former KGB, some widows. I moved around the states and just found no one had a goal. I just try to get by now, my sweet. It’s not pretty out there.”

She wiped her nose, “And to think I’d always dreamed of having you to myself forever. Sick. Selfish.”

I did everything, everything I wanted to.

I let them use you for their own ends.

Tears welled in Komandir’s eyes. She pulled his huge frame close and cried into greasy hair. “I should have got you back, kept you safe, get Hydra back to stage one,” her voice cracked, “I don’t know. I just ran and left them to break you down even more. I-I-I-I’m so sorry Милый, I’m so sorry.”

The Russian knew how this would end. She would die and be a remnant of something unattainable. Perfect was unattainable. Soldat was the closest she would witness and that’s enough. She stroked his wide back with gentle circles, sobs dying.

Soldat’s voice was a dull rasp in the pitch room.

“What would you have me do, Komandir?”

He looked so hopeful. Rage filled her heart, cracking and blistering from exposure. Run with me, start anew, kill that блять Pierce. The woman sat back and put on a smile. She purred, “I would have you relax and let me take care of you, sweetness.”

The asset nodded, unlacing his boots, plates in his arm clacking and humming. The woman thumbed his delicate nose, the thin skin under a once bright blue eye. She whispered, “Such a pretty soldat, perfect soldat.” Silent tears slid down her face. Vasily was probably in a hideout shaking his head. глупая девчонка.

She said, “I’m going to get the bath running, just lay your clothes out and join me,” she shushed his panicked noise, “Just around the corner Малыш.” She padded through the small apartment, ignoring the state of it. Soldat likely cared.

The former agent ran it scalding hot, throwing some lavender in there. She readied a towel and fluffed it. The bath tub was small, but she wanted to pamper her perfect star anyways. She worried her lip, he seemed to be cracking, bad. Too much time off ice and repeated wipes have not been studied. Komandir had never heard him speak so much, all that raw emotion.

Soldat’s hulking frame shadowed the doorway. Knelt down the Komandir beckoned him over. He gracefully clambered into the tub, sitting down with a grimace.

“Too hot?”

“No. I like it hot,” he murmured.

Her eyes roved the beauty of his body, stopping on heated cheeks, full lips, bulky chest, and that beautiful cock. It laid on his belly, a deep red and leaking. His balls were tight but she could see the stress, the heaviness of it. Supersoldiers needed to cum much more than the average man.

The woman grabbed a cup and dunked it to fill it up. Her other hand cupped his knee, thumbing the soft inside. Soldat whimpered again, dark lashes fluttering. She poured the water over his oily dark hair, doing it again until it was soaked.

“Lean up baby.”

She poured some cheap shampoo into her palm, lathering it up. The asset groaned deep in his chest at the contact— nails scritch-scratching away the oils and dirt. He stated, “I’m not supposed to remember you.” His watchful orbs looked up.

“You’re not supposed to remember that you’re not supposed to remember, Умница.”

He bit down on his lip and warbled, “I’m s-scared Komandir. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

You’re falling apart.

“Shh, baby, in the moment now, in the moment.”

He stilled but Soldat’s eyes had that ingrained wide-eyed fear. She washed the suds out and combed through the tangles, earning some pretty sighs. The Komandir found herself lecturing, “What the Americans do not get…you have to make sure your weap- agents are clean and cared for.”

She hissed while scrubbing his wide shoulders and neck, littered with yellowed bruises, “They don’t take care of their prized fist, that’s why poor soldat is feeling down.” He nodded along, shoulders relaxing minutely. Komandir washed down his arms, digging out the blood encrusted into the plates.

She did the rest methodically: Wash the feet, move down to the toes, calves, thighs. Stop. Soldat was mewling and squirming, face trained on her. His lips wobbled, brow furrowed in agony. The asset whined, “Komandir, please, need your touch, help me.” She ran a hand slowly down his trembling belly, palming the swollen cock.

“Soon, Малыш,” she promised.

His bitten lips pouted, but her good boy always listened. She stated, “I was blind that Hydra would keep the original goal alive. I felt more confident leaving knowing that. But I was wrong, sweet baby. You’re the key and they don’t know it.”

Komandir pulled out a straight razor and shaving cream. She shaved his stubble while continuing, “You will be the one to change Hydra. Burn it into the ground or rise above the sham it’s become. That’s your reality, and the time will come. You must not fail now dear soldat.”

He steeled himself, relaxing under orders, vague as they are. She knew Soldat knew he had to wait for the perfect moment. The brunette thanked her in the softest voice when she wiped off his newly cleaned cheeks. The woman cooed, “Never seen a prettier baby. Turn over so I can get everything.”

By the time she’d cleaned and prepped the soldier out he was a mess. He’d come once already, scrabbling at the tile and wailing in ecstasy. Poor thing wasn’t done. Now dry, her perfect soldier rutted against her soft, soft thigh. His pink lips were sealed around her nipple, whining and suckling.

She pulled at his long locks and said, “As a gift,“ she tapped his cleft chin, “Do you want your Komandir to fuck your sweet hole?” The Russian wouldn’t mention it was a final gift. He babbled in multiple languages but the message was clear— fuck me. She smiled down at his teary cheeks and cooed, “Eager baby. I’ll show you what it’s like to be fucked. Not like those jackasses.”

“Mmmh-pleaseee,” the brunette wantonly begged. He rutted against the bedding while the Komandir moved to a chest in the room. The asset drooled, spreading his thick thighs to draaag his achy cock against the too-soft material— eliciting an annoyed whine.

“Almost there my star,” she laughed. There were some noises of clipping and leather. To their ears it sounded like a gun belt or harness of sorts.

She clicked the heavy black silicone into place. There was no other side to stimulate the woman. Same as it always was, it was her precious boy’s pleasure to take, not her own.

Ambling over to the bedside she asked, “Front or back sweetheart?”

“Front, front, front!,” he babbled.

“Okay. When you see me and change your mind just say so baby.”

He made a confused gesture but flipped onto his back, exposing that pretty pink cock again. Drool actively collected on his plump lips at the sight of Komandir’s strap. He obviously had never seen anything like it. Scarred hands gave it a slow stroke, fingers barely able to meet around the girth.

“Well?”

The asset whined her name thinly, begging for her to take him. She climbed upon the bed one knee at a time, hand on the cock, eyes heady and glued on the trembling soldier. She purred, “Are you sure you want it? Reaaaally think baby boy, there’s freedom of choice under all that mess.”

She tried to play it across seductively but the true meaning was laid bare. Soldat’s eyes flicked about the heavy silicone, throat bobbing in anticipation. He began to speak, faltered, frustrated tears welling up. Finally with his head down the soldier croaked, “Please, want you, please.”

“I’ve got you.”

To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.

To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.

She stripped off the gown and tossed it to the dingy carpet. The woman crawled between his legs and kissed a path up to his waiting mouth, puckered tightly. He was vibrating with need, huge arms circling around Komandir’s slim waist. He closed the gap, licking into her open lips.

The woman seized Soldat’s throat with a loose grip, just to stabilize the inevitable freefall. The brunette’s lips were insistent, demanding— like he was trying to take her soul. She moaned lowly, twisting around his probing tongue easily, lips wetly smacking. She nipped his lip playfully, squeezing his veined throat.

The soldier cried out, teeth gnashing against hers as he kissed and kissed and sucked. The soft skin of Komandir’s belly rubbed against Soldat’s achy need, sending pin pricks of pleasure to overstimulated nerves. When she suckled on his tongue, the titanium arm shifted with a shrill whine.

She pulled back breathless, patting the hand once round Soldat’s throat on his sweaty chest. He mewled in frustration, rutting his cock into the air, no release on the horizon. The Russian cooed, “More kisses soon needy boy. You want my cock in you, да?”

Soldat nodded, tears dripping like a leaky faucet down his red red cheeks. The assassin spread his legs wide open, tucking heels against the meat of his ass. Komandir crooned, “Look at you, precious thing, all open and ready for my хуй.”

“Трахни меня! Fuck me!,” he sobbed.

She shushed him with a slight slap to a muscular thigh, wrapping them up around her hips afterward. A once-manicured hand guided the fake cock to the asset’s pink hole, glistening and ready with slick. He babbled, “Oh please- need it, командир, please!”

Without a pause she jabbed the entire length into his eager ass, pretty soldat crying in relief, ripping his big hands through the shitty sheets. She thrust into him deeper, before pulling out with a lurid squelch, then diving back in twice as hard.

The Komandir poured all over her anger, heartache, stupid stupid love, agony into the brutal fucking. The asset’s brown locks bounced around as he drooled and moaned like a slip of a thing getting her pussy split in half. He was in paradise. The woman grunted, smoothing her palms up his ridged torso, “Singing so sweetly baby, you feeling good star?”

“Y-yes,” he choked on his spit, “Gonna cum!”

She cocked her head in surprise, not missing a beat, “So soon, after I milked you out in the tub too? Greedy babe.” More tears leaked at the humiliation, the asset pulling her on top of his writhing body. He nuzzled into her sweaty hair, panting, “Mmmfuck, more, always more, never enough from you Komandir.”

Finding her own eyes growing wet the woman fucked him harder, shaking hand rolling his still swollen balls around. The asset mewled in her hair, getting it sticky with spit. His back was tightly arched as he clung to her. Behavior one wouldn’t see out of a six foot, two-hundred something pound killing machine.

He whimpered, “M’cumming, cumming for you, fuck!”

She seized his newly shaved chin and pressed damp foreheads together. The Russian breathed, “C’mon then, paint me up my precious. Good boys like you get to cum all they want.” He fell apart beautifully, all violent twitches of big muscles and the bloody biting of lips. Cum plastered her belly and even tits. The asset cried for his Komandir, trembling as she licked his tears up.

A feeling of time slipping struck the woman in the chest. In a fervent frenzy she coaxed him onto his belly, the soldier still dazed from the earlier release. The woman propped his ass up, praising the greatest creation of Hydra through her tears.

Die between his beautiful thighs.

She slid back into his sore hole, thumbing around the rim as she watched the stretch. Soldat snuffled, “Спасибо, Спасибо, Спасибо.” The brunette rutted back onto her brutal thrusts, bracing himself on his arms. Constant noises dried his mouth out but everything felt so good. His Komandir, back again to take care of the asset.

The Komandir was drilling his sweet spot dead-on now, moaning softly in delight. She pulled at her precious baby’s engorged cock and cooed in his ear, “Taking me so well, that’s my boy. I love you. You’re going to do big things,” he sobbed and spread out sluttily, “Bigger than me, Rumlow, Director, the whole lot of them.”

The asset was mewling and babbling, nose runny from how overwhelmed his body was. Everything felt like it was getting fucked on his touchstarved body. The cum getting forced out of his balls was spreading all over Komandir’s bed. But he was listening to her words, trying to, hard when he was about to explode.

“Promise me зимний солдат,” she whispered, “Promise me that when the chance comes you take it, okay sweetling? Do it for your Komandir who loves her star very much.” The woman couldn’t hide the crack in her voice at the end. Those gorgeous blues gazed at her like she was good, whole, someone who hung the moon and stars.

“глупая девчонка”, Vasily would say.

The woman kissed his blubbering lips to stop herself from crumpling. He panted, “I promise, I promise Komandir. I will cuh-comply.” He was puffing out weak cries now, twisting underneath her clumsy strokes. She swiped her thumb over the red hot tip of the asset’s cock and watched him spill for a third time, crumpling with a cracking wail. Only a bit spurted out this time.

The Komandir pressed her lips to the center of his spine, chest heaving. She sounded like a broken machine at this point. “Promise me, promise me precious star.” He wept, “I promise, I do, I love you, always follow my Komandir.”

The once prideful woman knew that was the last words her boy should utter. She eased out of his overtaxed hole, shushing him and holding on to that sweet little mewl for dear life. She took off the harness, aware of the soldier waiting. The woman would cuddle up for now, letting the soldier gather her up in his warm embrace. She snuggled tight, imprinting this moment into her soul.

His breath petered out into slow puff, mumbling ‘love you’ sleepily. The Komandir slid from his embrace, padding to the kitchen. Her heart was eerily calm. She knew this had to occur for the greatest creation of Hydra to rise above. His pain would fuel the fire of the future.

She scrawled out a letter, sweet as could be, apologizing for everything. The woman knew she deserved death. She wouldn’t make him do it. Ripping off the Hydra insignia necklace she kept on her neck was placed on the letter.

The woman moved the the couch and grabbed the gun. Shift, click, pray for me soldat, pull.

To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.

To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.

[a-boca-do-inferno]

Prague getaway (jack ryan x female oc)

summary: “Oh, loosen up already.” Randy leans back and shoots him a teasing look. “We’re gonna be here a long time, might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.”

warnings: angst, blood, violence, swearing.lots of it, light smut, fluff

words: 10.7k (:O)

notes: jack ryan girlies rise!! i put my whole pussy in this. also its my first time ever writing with an oc so bear with me lmao.

CENTRAL EUROPE

Birds chirped outside and the loud chatter coming from the street was a bit distracting from the sound of TV, but Randy managed. Her plate faced her on the coffee table, now empty, along with a half filled cup of apple juice. It must have been past noon while she had the time of her life laying on that dirty and ancient couch, watching some Czech program about the Internet. And by the time of her life, she secretly meant being bored as hell. Tagging along with Jack Ryan wasn’t even on the list of the worst things that could’ve happened to her given the circumstances, by the way, she’s well aware of that—seeing as her life was now on the line and he was only there to protect her—but goddamnit, was that cable shit. The things she did to put Jim at ease. 

Although the girl didn’t really agree with his tactics to go about it; Johnson just knew better than to argue with Greer. After she started getting on his nerves with her insistence on using the intel she acquired and he actually took her seriously, it had been noticeable he came to think of himself like a father figure to her, since she was a rookie in the mission department. And Randy simply let him feel that way. Being away from his family ever took its toll on the guy and contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t the clueless, selfish bitch everyone made her to be.

Always, anyway.

Jack glances at her spread out on the sofa, trying to keep his annoyance in check and failing miserably. “What are you watching?” His voice suggests he’s very affected that Randy herself doesn’t appear fazed by their current situation. At all.

They had been stuck in that shithole for six hours now, completely in the dark as to where the mission stood after the shady organisation of the moment—as Johnson liked to put it—crushed into their hotel rooms and chased them out of town. And despite not exactly considering the capital of the Czech Republic under a terrorist threat for his idea of a nice vacation, it certainly beat having to now share some dirty kitchenette in the outskirts of Prague with the most insufferable woman he’s ever met. Jack caught wind of the discrepancies in the way they did their job from the start, and to say he wasn’t pleased with hers was an understatement. Her so-called intel had led them to that place, and her negligence above it all bothered him to no end. That and the ever present snark. He wondered how in the world did that character make it to the agency. She should’ve been in publicity, instead.

“A nice TV show about ordinary people wanting to become influencers”, Johnson responds in that tone of hers, with an almost sweet smile. Ryan’s mouth moves as though he’ll say something, but decides not to. He has better things to do with his time than to argue with a brat. Jack simply stares at her green eyes and sighs, going back to his computer screen, and Randy snorts, “well, Jim did mention you don’t like having people around.” Her feet move back and forth as she watches him type. “I’m like you in that way, you know?” Closing the distance between them, she brushes some stuff off his eyelid carefully, and it’s clear the man wasn’t expecting that. He tenses up. “So, my bad. I don’t wanna be here any more than you do, but you know Greer.” 

“Is that so?” Jack blinks, scanning her face up and down wryly. “In that case, you’re free to leave anytime you want.” 

Johnson laughs heartily, contrasting his impassive demeanour. “You do have a sense of humour, Jackie! I’ll give you that.” She shrugs and grins, with a declare to her voice, “and to answer your question: maybe I’d try to, but I’m not skilled enough to outsmart a Marine, I’m afraid.” 

Jack looks away, still typing on the keyboard mechanically. “You sound like a fan.” 

“You wish.” Her orbs gleam with mischief, and she sits a bit straighter to make a striking pose. “I wouldn’t mind learning some moves, though. I’d love to kick some ass. I bet I could take you, big man.” 

Ryan chuckles under his breath, against his best judgement. It feels surreal to him, this girl. “You certainly have a unique way about yourself.” He states bluntly, raising his brows as he closes up the laptop and puts it on the small table to their side. “Don’t really look like someone in Logistics.”

Randy nods, crossing her legs with a smug expression. “I didn’t get the memo before taking the job, I guess.” 

“Right.”

“Oh, loosen up already.” She sits up and leans back on the couch, her attention going to the program running in the background for a second. “We’re gonna be here a long time, by the looks of it. Might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.” 

Jack shakes his head slightly, his tone growing more serious. “You need to focus on the mission, Johnson. This isn’t a game.”

“Sure thing, dad”, she snickers, running a hand through her short hair idly. “You talk like it’s your head those fuckers want on a plate.” 

“It is too, actually.” Ryan frowns. That’s the attitude he doesn’t like. “I suggest you get your head out of your ass as soon as possible. Enough people have died because of you.” 

Although his words sting, Randy keeps a lighthearted mood. “So is that why you’re behaving like an asshole ever since we landed, you’re worried about yourself?”, she wiggles her brows, fixing a few blonde strands softly and clicking her tongue. “And here I thought you just didn’t like me.”

“I don’t have time for this”, Jack mutters to himself and leaves, closing the door to his room quietly.

Johnson only hummed along, watching as the winner of the episode celebrated on the screen. She knew Ryan was doing nothing but his duty protecting her, of course, yet it felt strangely disappointing that he, of all people, seemed to judge her so much for her actions up until that point. Randy went behind her superiors’ backs to scavenge the information that now threatened her own safety, sure, but how many times had he done the same thing again? Either way, arguing with the guy about it was just showing she cared for his opinion—which she didn’t, for the record. That cable just sucked and she was bored as hell. With a heavy sigh, the girl stood up to turn off the TV when a sound made her ears prick up. She frowned, inspecting the empty space. Something fell on the floor with a loud thud in the other room and Randy took a step back. 

“Jack?”, she calls, getting no reply. 

Her feet moved toward his door and it crashed right before her eyes, causing her to step away in reflex as two bloody men were thrown on the ground with it. With no time to process what was happening, Ryan took her by the arm and dragged her out of the apartment with no delicacy whatsoever. They ran down the stairs while he cocked his gun and whispered something unintelligible. She grabbed his forearm when another two hooded figures started closing in on them. Jack quickly got rid of the attackers and gave Randy a look before pulling her out of the building and into a car.

“Drive.” He commands, keeping his eyes behind at anyone following their vehicle. 

She obeys without a second thought, stepping on the accelerator with all her might. Johnson grips the wheel tightly as she mouths, in a shaky breath, “what the fuck is going on, Jack? Talk to me.”

Ryan braces himself as they take a harsh turn, blood dripping from his eyebrow. “They found us again.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” Randy gasps when a pickup appears out of nowhere, shooting at them. She makes a u-turn and steps on the pedal, watching from the rear mirror. “How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know, just drive!” Jack rolls down his window and fires all his rounds at the vehicle still on their tail. He goes back to his seat and reloads his pistol, looking straight ahead. “We gotta get to the Embassy.”

“Got it.”

♡♡♡

“I see.” Jim sighs through the phone call. “I still have some business here in Moscow, but I’ll be in Prague as soon as I can.” 

Jack doesn’t like the sound of it at all. He keeps track of Randy moving around in the background. “Copy.”

The ride to the Embassy was messy, but they made it in one piece. Well, Ryan did. After settling in the nice hotel the Ambassador offered them in another city nearby Prague—as to not draw any more attention to them, in his own words—, now with heavy security outside, Johnson winced when trying to change. She lifted her shirt and only then saw the ugly bruise on her abdomen, her skin sliced open and gushing blood. It was a bullet graze and albeit it wasn’t serious, the thing still hurt like a bitch. As the girl hissed and took a seat on the bed, Jack stopped in his tracks and crouched down before her. He gauged her injury with a trained eye, his lips curling in thought. 

“Remorse?” Randy laughs deeply, tilting her head. “Don’t worry, I don’t hold grudges.” She sighs and looks at him seriously, like she hadn’t been until now. “How the hell did they find us this time, Jack? This stinks. No one knew about that hideout except you, me and Greer.”

His voice drops to a lower register as he takes her arm and brings it around his shoulders to lay her down, “I’m working on it. Right now we need to focus on getting you patched up.” Jack pulls her body close to his and fluffs the pillows, making her comfortable. He tries to ignore the way her hair tickles his chin.

Johnson chews the inside of her cheek, but accepts the help. “I’m okay, it’s just a graze.” She gulps and scratches her eyelids, taking a deep breath and glancing up at the ceiling. “That pickup didn’t look cheap. These people have some serious connections here. We have to get to the bottom of this.”

“We will”, Ryan says with resolve, nodding once. He scans the room in search of a med-kit and Randy points to the bathroom. 

While Jack leaves for a moment, Johnson moves a little and pouts when the pain comes back. He catches her in the act and she chuckles, a little embarrassed, “so much for spy training, huh?”

Rummaging through the kit, he hums, “if it was easy, everyone would do it.” In the midst of pulling out the antiseptic and the gauze roll, he steals a quick peek at her.

Randy only grunts in response, her lips pursed. “Greer’s gonna get our asses for this. He doesn’t even know we left Prague in the first place.”

Jack doesn’t reply immediately. He’s finally found the right size gauze roll and puts it aside. His orbs roam her up and down, studying her exposed skin. He whispers, almost talking to himself, “he’ll get over it.”

“You know, I’m sorry about earlier”, her gaze has an amused gleam, but seems sincere. “I have been a little more annoying than normal, I’m aware. I’m sure by now you noticed why I’m not so popular among my peers in the agency, especially not after this… mess.” She looks down.

“You make it difficult for them because you can afford it”, he considers, cleaning her wound delicately. Taking note of her surprised reaction, he adds with a smirk, “I read your file. You’re not the only one who did the homework.”

After a moment of silence, she speaks up again, solemnly, “when we’re done with this, I’d like to make it up to you.” Randy sits up against the headboard with his help, now grinning, “how does pizza sound?”

His chest feels funny as Jack catches the look on her face. The offer sounds genuine and he smiles. “I’d love that. Your call on toppings.” When her bandage is finished, he puts the med-kit away in the bathroom cabinets.

“That’s right, I make all the decisions”, Johnson pushes his shoulder lightly as he sits back down, making him raise his brows but laugh along. “You learn fast. I can see why they talk so much about the analyst down the hallways, now.”

“I make them talk, huh?” Ryan tries to play it off with a soft chuckle, yet the blush on his cheeks is obvious. He leans in closer to take the phone on the bed, and with their faces only inches apart, his body can’t help but linger in that position. Suddenly the atmosphere tingles with tension and his breath hitches ever so slightly. Her eyes are breathtaking.

“Your humble act doesn’t work on me”, her voice is but a whisper, the corner of her lip lifting up ghostly. “Jim gave me the rundown on you before I came here, you know? He told me not to inflate your massive ego.”

He beams, his look dropping to her mouth, “that sounds like jealousy.” 

Randy laughs and now can’t hide her own bashfulness. She reaches for the bedside table and puts on her round sunglasses, looking away from him in a not so subtle attempt at denying his advances. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.” The girl sighs heavily, unable to stare back at him for now.

Her words were clear enough. It was a bad idea, indeed. And in spite of being visibly disappointed, his facial expression stayed blank as his phone started ringing again. It was probably Jim. He thanked the heavens in silence for that call to get him out of that situation. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment and Ryan moved away from her, pressing the answer button as he got up and left for the other room. He grabbed his jacket over the chair as he went, glancing back at Johnson before she was completely out of vision. There was a flicker of curiosity in her emerald orbs whilst Jack closed the door.

Randy went to sleep right away, in hopes to wash off the incident with Jack by rebooting her systems. Besides, she was very exhausted; so much so her bones felt like jelly under her skin. Turning on her side with all the care in the world, she shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Soon her body began to spasm and shake, sweat dripping from her forehead as she turned on the bed and hissed when her wound stung. She sat back up with a quiet gasp. The war nightmares were a normal thing to occur, but had been more frequent from the moment she landed in Prague. 

On the other side of the wall, Jack leaned back in a chair as he flipped through a small manila folder. His attention was glued to the paper, but his mind wondered. The sound of Randy tossing and turning on the mattress reached him and he tensed up, closing his eyes briefly as if to block out the sounds. He stayed like this for several moments before finally forcing himself to face reality. They had been running from terrorists when they should be the ones trying to catch them, and that didn’t sit right with him. Hiding wasn’t helping them in any way, out of maybe buying some time to rethink their strategy. And with Johnson hurt, Jack saw no other option but to push things forward on his own. He called Mike November the next minute, urging him to come to the Czech Republic tomorrow. They were gonna need all the help they could get. 

The hours dragged on and his thoughts kept him awake. There was no way he could sleep while Randy was alone in the other room, wounded. She wasn’t a field operative, and that meant her training would only help her so much away from him. The girl barely survived the last encounter with their attackers, all because she had been lucky enough not to be in the room they invaded first. He tried to shake off the feeling of guilt over her injury to no avail. It wasn’t serious, however it could’ve been, and the mission would’ve been compromised then. Ryan gave up on the file and sat it aside.

Regardless of not being able to figure out Randy entirely just yet, John realised he had been cultivating a fondness for her over the past events. For someone who never used a gun in her life, except maybe for her training days, Johnson kept calm and helped with what she could, no questions asked. Not everyone has that kind of self control in the face of danger and he admired her for it. She even reminded Jack of himself, somewhat, back when he was a rookie—even though he wasn’t as annoying, surely. Either way, the blonde had a grace about her. Perhaps it was that nearly youthful spirit, the playfulness even in the blink of imminent disaster. He still found it hard to believe she had made her way into the CIA without losing most of her spark by now. 

His look automatically dropped to Randy’s file, right under the mission’s. He scanned through some of the notes and reports he had been doing up until now. Johnson had been with the agency for just over four years, still her work ethic was impressive, at the very least. The only negative points were personal complaints from her previous office colleagues, most of them depicting her as a “stubborn, impulsive and rebellious, but effective agent”. He chuckled under his breath. That sounds about right. 

Jack flipped through more pages, going over her skills: communication, adaptability and problem solving were top on the list. His eyes glossed over the next sheet: relationships, but he quickly stopped himself and closed the envelope. He’s already overstepped as it is. Ryan put down the file and let out a frustrated sigh. Thinking back on the days before the mission, he remembered Jim’s words. 

“She’s a tough cookie, but you’ll get used to it.” Greer swirls his glass of Merlot casually. “I know how it looks and trust me, I’m one of the people who doubted her from the beginning, until it turned out her intel was solid. I don’t care how she got it or why, just as long as we catch that son of a bitch Jones.”

Jack could see the concerned look on Jim’s face as he delivered his briefing. He didn’t appear so confident in the girl’s abilities as he tried to come across. And while it didn’t bother Ryan perse, he had this unshakeable gut feeling that there was a lot more to Randy than what you can see at first glance. Perhaps even more so than she let Jim himself know. 

“Copy.” That’s what he said back then, nodding and staring at the table.

“And don’t even think about it”, were his boss’ last remarks as he gulped down his wine in one go. “Randy’s not Cathy, Jack. You’re there to protect her and the information she holds before Jones can get to her.” His voice sounds tight, but not really threatening. Greer’s always been a little too overprotective of the rookies. “No fooling around.”

“Jack”, Randy calls huskily. “I’m bleeding.” She complains, yawning softly. Johnson stares at the dark room and sighs, doing her best to wake up fully. “Jack.”

His eyes fixated on Randy’s picture when he heard her voice coming from her bedroom. He stood up and opened the door, flicking on the light and making his way to her bed. Her wound oozed blood under her shirt, soaking the fabric in red as it dripped down onto the mattress and he shook his head, looking at all the work he had put on the bandages now gone. 

“What the hell did you do, Johnson?”, he grumbles, running for the bathroom to take the med-kit.

“I moved”, she shrugs and tries out a playful smile, but grimaces when a sharp sting hits her like a brick. “Just… hand me the gauze and I’ll clean it up myself.” She concludes, noticing he isn’t pleased.

Jack comes back with the kit and narrows his eyes, his features remaining stoic, “sit down and put pressure on it.” He grabs her wrist to help her up, moving her back to the headboard. His lips purse as he inspects the red liquid streaming from her side. “It looks even worse than before, Jesus.”

“Sorry”, she frowns and looks away, feeling guilty for making him do this again. “I really can do it, you know? I’m not a baby.”

“Really? You’re not doing such a great job at convincing me otherwise”, he states softly, his initial anger dissipating to give room for worry as he treats her injury. She doesn’t respond, adjusting herself on the pillows. “Stay still.”

Randy sighs. “I wanna talk to Greer.”

“What for? He says he’s coming.” Jack wraps the gauze around her abdomen, holding the roll package between his teeth. “There’s nothing we can do for now. Jones is onto us. We have to be extra careful.”

“Yeah, that’s not really my style”, she huffs, visibly bothered by his decision making without consulting her. “I’m calling my contact in Roztoky. He can help us move around the city without worrying so much.”

“Your contact”, Ryan sounds unimpressed, finishing off the new bandage. He looks down at his lap for a split second, then turns his gaze back to Randy. “Don’t you think it’s time you caught me up on all of this?”

“I told you everything.”

“Did you, now?” Randy glares and he stares right on, scowling himself. “All you have done so far is get on my nerves and not cooperate with the mission at hand.”

“I don’t cooperate with you bossing me around, that’s very different”, Johnson blurts out in a single breath, looking upset. “I might not be the big shot you are in the agency, but I have a right to know where we stand because it concerns my safety too. I don’t care if I’m fucking Logistics.” 

Jack still glowers at the girl, but eventually softens his features. She’s got a point. “Fine. I called a friend just now. He’ll help.”

“Okay.” It’s all she says, and anticipating the end of the conversation, Jack moves to leave. Her hand touches his arm faintly before he does, “thanks.”

Nodding, he steps away and closes the door. 

♡♡♡

When Jim told Randy to get on the next plane to Prague only days ago, something inside of her shifted. So far she had been carrying this intuitive sensation that no matter what she did, the guys higher up would never take her warnings into consideration. And then, just as Johnson gave up and decided to do things on her own, Jones bombed a US Embassy in Europe, and announced he would keep on doing it until he was either killed or caught. Overnight, all the letters the girl sent the director of the CIA were answered and in less than a week, they stationed her and Jack in Prague. 

“Wait for further instructions. As of now, Dr. Jack Ryan will be assisting you”, was the last email Greer typed. And with that, Johnson flew with the so-called doctor to Europe. She knew all about Jack’s successful streak with Suleiman, then Venezuela and Moscow, of course. The tales of “the analyst” often made her chuckle whilst spooning her salad, since people were unable to hide their admiration—and sometimes, even envy—for Ryan as they shared his stories on lunch break. Nothing much happened on Logistics, so that had been their entertainment for a long time. Until things became erratic with the Prague bombings, that is. 

Looking back now, everything happened so quickly. Randy didn’t have a chance to take it all in. The rush was similar to her days in the army, when she had to get moving around with no time to think or feel. There was the goal and the path she’d be taking towards it, nothing else. She saw the same mindset in Ryan right away, even if their approach was fundamentally different. The blonde reckoned the Marine Corps could be stricter and, as a result, more demanding than military service. That is also why, although not hitting it off well from the beginning, she tried her best to remain friendly with him—which could include being annoying every now and then, sure, but that’s beside the point. They both possessed life experiences not too far apart that deeply shaped them into who they were today, for better or for worse, and that meant something. Jack was her. 

Only grumpier and square. 

Staring back at the table, Randy resumed eating her meal. Pancakes were her favourite dish, no matter where she was. And again, she felt lucky enough that Jack’s remorse made him go out of his way to try and fetch her some from the downstairs cafeteria. His friend Mike was funny, funnier than Ryan—not that it was hard—and she had a great time while they chatted over a nice American breakfast in Central Bohemian, Czech Republic. It almost felt as though they weren’t being chased down by assassins, and she hadn’t nearly been hospitalised for an infection in her bullet graze only the night before. 

“So?” Randy smiles brightly at Mike, urging him to speak after she briefed him on the situation. Jack had been quiet until now, because he was boring, so she took it upon herself to catch Mike up on the whole deal. If his laughter at her stupid jokes was anything to go by, she’d take a hunch and say they built a strong bond already. If only things could work like that with Ryan. “You think you can help us, Mikey?”

Michael can’t help but snort, oscillating his eyes between Johnson and Jack, who’s still eyeing his empty plate in thought, “where did you find her again?”

“Don’t ask”, Ryan finally sighs and Randy shrugs, eating her pancakes happily. He looks at November seriously. “I’m gonna need you to call your guy. We have to be in the same place as Jones, hit him when he doesn’t expect it. We’re running out of time.”

“I’m on it”, Mike nods, then glances at the girl with a grin. “How about you, sweetheart? Ready for some grown up action?”

Jack rolls his eyes at this, but Randy laughs out loud. She’s yet to get used to being treated like a damsel in distress. “Hey, I can throw a punch! Don’t let Jack poison your mind. He’s just butthurt that I got intel working in Logistics that he couldn’t as a field agent.”

“Ouch. That hurt even me.” He snickers and Ryan stands up, putting his gun inside his pants. Mike follows suit. “Just right down to business, huh?”

“I told you, we don’t have time”, Jack takes a look at Randy, who’s watching them with her chin on her hand, smiling. He clears his throat and touches her shoulder lightly, “we’ll be back before dark. Try not to hurt yourself while I’m away.”

They hadn’t mentioned the little incident last night, but when his touch found her skin, Johnson’s mind made its way back to his closeness hours prior. How he ogled her lips with no shame whatsoever, and how eager he seemed for breaking the rules for her, so to speak. It was a nice change in pace for the Jack she had come to see around that period. It also took her an enormous amount of self-control not to jump on him right then and there, however there were more important things at play. If only she wasn’t such a professional. 

Randy renders a hand salute, mockingly. “Aye, aye, sir.”

Mike smiles at Ryan. “I like her.”

As they left, Johnson sighed and stood up, going for the burner Mike brought with him so they could communicate. She called her boss in Maryland and gave him a summary of the mission, explaining Jack’s plan thoroughly. They found a way into Jones’ charity event tomorrow, courtesy of Mike’s contact. If everything went well today, she would be face to face with her target in just a few hours. Her orders were loud and clear: shoot to kill. Placing the device down, the blonde took a deep breath, looking out the window at the clean, welcoming landscape of Horoměřice. 

She was never a fan of big cities, despite being born in Los Angeles. The nice and quiet suited her better, so leaving Prague, notwithstanding she wished for better circumstances, was actually a relief. Away from the hustle of the capital, she could think more clearly. And the thought of coming back here after the operation made her happy. The people were nice and very comprehending of her ignorance of their culture—albeit she did speak a little Czech, but had to pretend not to, for the sake of her cover. Ryan still had to think she was the sweet and rebellious rookie; at least until she got the job done. 

A few blocks away, contemplating the clear, blue sky also, Jack caught himself appreciating the view for longer than he intended. The small things were ever the anchor he needed to keep moving forward, especially in this line of work. Whenever he was on a mission, time went by in a rush, and the only way to alleviate that feeling was to focus on the here and now. Nature could calm him down like nothing else, but as he watched the trees moving along with the wind, the green of the leaves slowly merged into emerald eyes he now came to know too well. Putting his hands in his front pockets, he took a peek back at the old building behind him and Mike walked out of it.

“Please, tell me you got us in.” Jack practically begs, watching him come down the stairs. He had been talking to his guy for over fifteen minutes while Ryan waited outside. 

“Did I ever let you down?” He grins, showing his phone with a party invitation on the screen. 

“Don’t make me say it”, Jack beams and nods, checking the time before heading to the car with November right behind. As they get in, he turns on the engine. “Jim’s getting here soon, but I might not catch him. You stay here and brief him on the plan. I can hold my own with Johnson.”

“Just like the old days, eh?” Mike puts on his belt. “The band’s back together.”

“With a new formation, but yeah”, he mutters, driving back to the hotel. 

“Oh, tell me about it”, Jack wants to roll his eyes at the teasing on Michael’s voice again, but doesn’t. “Actually, you don’t even have to. It’s clear you guys are already at it.”

“Stop talking”, Ryan takes a turn, stepping on the pedal. “She’s too much. You might have noticed.”

“Sounds like your type”, Mike snickers, gaining a wry look from Jack. He shrugs, measuring up the hotel as they arrive. “But I’m sure Jim wouldn’t approve. He never does.”

“I don’t care”, Jack says somewhat defensively, getting out of the vehicle with November. They make their way to the elevator and he presses his floor. “I’m not thinking about that.”

“All these years and you still think you can lie to me, Jack”, Mike positions his hands in front of his body with a smirk, the doors closing as they’re going up. “She’s into you, though. I could feel the tension.”

Jack scoffs in disbelief at his words, his face heating up. “Please, stop talking.”

“You know, it’s none of my business…”

Jack nods impatiently, not looking at him. “It isn’t.”

“But you should go for it. Friendly advice”, Mike gives him a look before they head towards the room. They stop in front of the wooden door as he finishes, “you can thank me later.”

Ryan displayed another eye roll at Michael and got inside, finding nothing but an empty and unmade bed. He stopped in his tracks and pushed Mike down when someone stepped out of the bathroom with a machine gun. They grabbed their guns simultaneously, taking cover behind a small couch next to the door. Before either of them had a chance to shoot, the gunfire suddenly ceased and the sound of a body hitting the floor could be heard in its place. Jack frowned and stood back up swiftly with November, pointing the pistol now at Randy, who stared at them with a desolate look. Her clothes were bloody and her green orbs filled with tears.

He runs in her direction and takes the girl in his arms, whispering, “what happened?”

Johnson sobs and hides herself into his chest, clinging to him for dear life. “He said he was room service… I just opened the door and…” She gulps, crying copiously.

Jack looks at Mike approaching them, still holding her firmly. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

The security guards supposed to protect them were nowhere to be seen, and Ryan made the connection quickly; they must have been paid off, just like the ones in Prague. He swore quietly, rocking Randy’s body to try and calm her down. She was shaking like a leaf, but appeared not to be hurt. The crushing weight of guilt hit him once more as he shut his eyes tightly. He shouldn’t have left her alone again. Brushing her cheeks, he cupped her face and wiped off her tears, causing her to smile. She squeezed his hands, as if to confirm she was really okay, and his heart skipped a beat. But as soon as their foreheads touched, the moment was interrupted by November.

“I thought you were a rookie.” Mike hums in confusion, staring at the dead body in front of them while checking his vitals. The guy had a broken neck and arm. He adds, his brows furrowed in her direction, “where did a rookie learn how to kill a guy with one move like that?”

Randy freezes in Jack’s arms and he feels it instantly. He studies the cadaver for a second before turning to stare back at her. He looks lost at first, but the mere prospect of all his suspicions being true causes him to take a step back. He inquires, demanding an explanation, “Johnson?”

She stands there paralyzed, and eventually raises her hands slowly, as a sign of surrender. Ryan points his gun at her again in the blink of an eye and her breath hitches. “Jack, please…”

“Who are you?” Mike chimes in, as his friend’s too shaken up to say anything. His gaze is hard and menacing, nothing like the lighthearted gleam of this morning.

Johnson closes her eyes, shaking her head. “Jack…”

“Who the fuck are you?!” Jack snaps, pressing the barrel of the pistol to her forehead, his hazel orbs now glistening with tears.

Johnson’s desperate face turned into a cold one all of a sudden and she disarmed him easily, pointing Ryan’s glock right back at him. He looked at the girl shocked and hurt, but lifted his arms up in reflex. They stayed in that position until Randy sighed when Mike aimed his own weapon at her. She dropped the firearm and unloaded it masterfully, throwing the rounds on the ground whilst glaring at Jack.

“I’m not your enemy.” She spits, her voice strained with anger. With that, Johnson storms off.

November still tries to go after her and Ryan steps in front of him, holding his shoulders. “Let her go. We got a job to do.”

Mike watches as she gets into the elevator down the hallway and snorts, “well, you did say she was too much.” 

♡♡♡

Jack walked into the event with grace, making the bar his first stop. Mike kept humming a song in his earpiece, but it didn’t bother him as it should, since his mind was elsewhere; lost in blonde locks and lying green eyes. He had no idea where Randy had gone to, and aside from not wanting to think about it now, his bitter side also wouldn’t allow him to care as he did before. She wasn’t some helpless chick doing a brave thing for her principles, after all, like he initially thought. Johnson had her own interests and her own set of skills—which he obviously didn’t know anything about—to achieve them. She’d be fine without him.

“Here he comes”, Ryan mumbles as Jones appears in the VIP section upstairs, surrounded by security and other people he assumed were his associates. He drinks his glass of whisky in one go and keeps his eyes on his target from afar, inspecting the perimeter stealthily. “Please, tell me Jim’s there. We’ll be needing the cavalry soon.”

Instead of Mike’s reply, a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in a few days reaches his ear and Jack tenses up. “Where’s Johnson?” It’s Greer’s first question. No greeting, no nothing. He sighs, trying to think of an excuse not to talk about this now, but his boss is insistent. “You might wanna tell me if you want your cavalry right away.”

“She’s gone”, Ryan growls, not sounding as casual as he would’ve liked to. He strolls towards a group of women and smiles charmingly at them, blending in. They quickly make a gesture for him to come closer and he obliges, muttering on his way, “she left yesterday.”

There is a pause, then Greer mouths, “what happened?” 

“She’s NSA”, he says amidst another deep sigh, forcing a grin when one of the girls pulls him to dance.

Jim didn’t respond and Jack went along with the brunette, always maintaining Jones in his rearview. He wasn’t aware if Greer was too surprised to say something or just didn’t care—seeing as he had been the first one to tell him Randy was only as important as the information she held, anyway. As long as she kept feeding them her intel, whatever happened to her afterwards was irrelevant to the agency. As far as anyone knew, an employee from Logistics should’ve never been on the field with them in the first place. And even in the face of Johnson secretly working for another organ entirely, which was the case, whilst representing a conflict of interests, Ryan reckoned she had been useful enough. At the end of the day, that’s all that mattered. Maybe she’d try to stop him from getting Jones just to put the credit on the National Security Agency’s office, but they would still get Jones. She’d serve her purpose, either way.

As soon as Randy left the hotel, Jack dialled up a nerdy kid in Langley, Josh, who happened to be a self-proclaimed fan of his and asked for a small favour. All the facts he had about Johnson was the Californian accent—unless she was that good at her job, going as far as creating such a round persona for her cover—and a nearly faded tattoo she had on her lower abdomen: 345-27-720. Ryan saw it for the first time when treating her wound, but thought nothing of it. Everything about her appeared so innocent, it went unnoticed. Now, remembering the way she aimed his own weapon at him without hesitation, he felt a bit proud of his photographic memory. 

It was a long shot, still he tried. And the results of the background check didn’t disappoint as they came just minutes before he had to leave for the party. According to California’s military records, the social security number belonged to a Miranda J. Brooks; white, American born, 26 years old, Second Lieutenant with a bachelor’s degree in Strategic Intelligence. The only catch was: Brooks was officially dead for over six years now. The death certificate only mentioned she was killed in combat somewhere in Afghanistan. She had no close family except her grandmother, Mary Brooks, who lived alone in Arizona. And the only thing he could register listening to Josh vomit all of that on the phone was how well she pretended to be such a clueless, defenceless girl while having this background. It only made his admiration for her stronger. And Jack hated it.

He somehow learned about that NSA program a few years back, but didn’t dig deeper on the matter. It wasn’t in their policy to have field agents capacitated in combat—which had been the reason why people in there butt heads with CIA operatives in the past, many a time. So, they allegedly started recruiting deserters and otherwise discharged soldiers to power their own task force, an effort not to be so dependent on the FBI or the State Department anymore. And while Ryan wasn’t sure if it was even a legal practice, he wasn’t a lawyer, therefore that part didn’t concern him. What he couldn’t figure out was why Brooks would fake her own death for this, or have her death faked by the agency itself. Besides, there was no record of a discharge anywhere. It didn’t add up and as soon as Jones was out of the picture, Jack would go looking for answers.

“Wanna go upstairs?” The woman dancing with him grins drunkenly, grabbing back his attention. 

Ryan wrinkles his nose involuntarily when the smell of alcohol hits his face and pulls away politely, faking an apologetic expression. “I’m taken, sorry.”

The woman huffed and pushed him, stumbling back to her friends. Jack watched in silence and frowned as his eyes caught a glimpse of Jones disappearing through a hallway with his men. He warned Mike of his position and followed them suit, the adrenaline already pumping into his veins when he came up the set of stairs and stepped into a quieter area. Ryan took out his gun and pointed it to the ground, sneaking after the terrorist from a safe distance. Hiding behind a wall, he checked his rounds and looked ahead, running back the strategy in his mind.

“Nice suit”, a smooth tone startles him and he holds the pistol at the direction of the sound, gulping faintly when his gaze meets Randy’s—or rather, Miranda’s. 

“What are you doing here?” He lowers his weapon, dragging her behind the wall with him. She’s wearing her usual clothes, and he almost wants to scold her for not even trying to act the part now. When she only smirks in response, Jack tightens his grip around her arm. “Stop playing games, Brooks. I already know everything.”

“You’re so predictable”, she chuckles and harshly shrugs him off, albeit her beam stays. Randy looks up, pretending to be in thought, “although, I didn’t think you would let me go so easily. I thought you’d fight for us, Jackie.” She says dramatically, then laughs.

Ryan’s scowl grows deeper, and he snarls, “Look, I don’t know what your angle is, but if you fuck this up, I’m coming after you next. I don’t care who you work for.” He holds her wrist forcefully and she can’t contain her own glower, trying to shake him off again, this time unsuccessfully. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

“Have you, now?” Johnson hisses and lifts her chin defiantly, his hot breath reaching her cheeks as his nostrils expand in pure rage. “If you were being honest, you’d have reported me to your superiors last night. You didn’t.”

“I have more important things to do”, he grits his teeth when she raises a brow, clearly not believing a word he says. “Now tell me what you’re doing here. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“I told you, I’m not your enemy”, Randy takes a deep breath, her features finally softening. Jack’s grip is looser now, but he keeps glaring. She sighs and tilts her head, cooing, “I know you’re mad at me for lying to you, Jack, but this is my job. You of all people should understand.”

The worst part was he did. Jack saw her and felt like staring into a goddamn mirror every time. He truly, genuinely saw her—no matter who the fuck she even was at that moment—and his body acted on its own as he pulled her by the collar of her shirt and devoured her mouth mercilessly. Ryan hadn’t a clue who he was kissing right now, the rebellious rookie or the dead soldier; all he knew was those were the smoothest lips he ever tasted, and he wasn’t letting go just yet. His tongue made its way between her teeth and he heard a gasp before Johnson pushed him against the wall and pressed herself on him, unashamed of who could see them. 

“Jack, focus.”

Jack ignored Mike as his back hit the cold concrete with a quiet thud. His deep groan seemed to only fuel Randy’s desire and she licked his bottom lip, now guiding the kiss. He panted when her skilful hands dropped to his pants and in a sudden glimpse of clarity, Ryan grabbed her wrists to stop her, but with no brute force this time. She pulled away from the kiss to give him a playful look, her chin completely red with lipstick as she tried to catch her breath, and he wiped his own face unconsciously. They both stared at each other for two seconds before bursting out laughing. He placed his free palm on her hip, bringing her body flush to his again. 

“Jack?”

November’s voice sounds like white noise as Johnson hums smugly, “okay, big man.” Jack’s flustered features cause her to giggle and she opens her mouth to speak again, then shuts it at once when a few men carrying rifles appear in her vision, observing them from afar. 

Ryan’s eyes follow hers and he tucks Randy behind him instinctively, turning off the safety on his glock. “If you have a gun on you, now’s the time to use it.”

“You don’t really think we can take them? We’re outnumbered, greatly”, she scoffs, doing her best to hide his weapon from the bodyguards’ view with her body. She presses herself against Jack and he offers her a puzzled look when her hands carefully put his pistol back into his pants. Johnson brushes her lips on his and he gladly accepts the caress, shivering from head to toe. She whispers, biting his bottom lip, “act drunk.”

“Pfft”, Jack wants to protest that poor excuse of a plan, but it’s too late as the men are now only a few feet away, watching not so subtly. He sighs and palms her butt without warning, getting into character, and fakes a loose smile. “How’s that?”

“Perfect”, she bends towards his touch, kissing him sloppily. Jack squeezes her ass cheek softly in reflex and a moan escapes her. “Jesus…”

“Jack, what the fuck are you doing?!” 

Mike screaming in his piece brings him back to reality and he stares at the ceiling before eyeing her. “I don’t wanna spoil the mood”, Ryan gulps, still rubbing her waist slowly as he tries to get a hold of himself. He clears his throat, “but what’s the endgame here? Take out the voyeurs?”

Randy chuckles and holds his hand, taking him towards the empty hallway again, away from the party. Before they leave, she senses the men are following them. While they stumble side by side surrounded by red painted walls, she mumbles, “there’s a door to your right over there. This is where Jones makes his deals and he’s trying to close one right now with the Russians.”

“I thought you said he gave up on it”, Ryan trails off, maintaining her close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“Because that’s what I heard, he changed his mind today”, she slows the pace, pushing him to the wall once again with a grin. “I bugged his office while you were away with Mike yesterday, forgot to tell ya.”

“How in the world…”

“And they almost caught me, that was the mess you found”, Randy continues and Jack’s mouth remains agape. She shrugs, pecking him casually, “you play a good drunk, by the way.”

“Were you gonna tell me any of this if we hadn’t figured it out on our own?”, his tone sounds defeated, almost like he’s still hurt. But should he be, really? She said it earlier; Ryan of all people couldn’t judge her for lying. “Would you trust me?”

“Well, I’m telling you now”, loosening up his tie, she puts it around her neck clumsily. “What do you think?”

He smiles. “I think I hate your games, but sometimes they’re fun”, he grabs her by the hair and brings her into another quick kiss.

A loud sound, similar to an explosion, came out of the main room and Randy gasped in surprise, dragging Jack away from all the rubble and the dust. She coughed while running through the wreckage with him, and Jack took it upon himself to protect her face, covering it with his hand. He tried calling for Mike, but he couldn’t hear the answer amidst all the screaming and chaos going on around them. Soon the first shots were fired and not knowing whether it was the police or the terrorists, he took the lead and pulled out his gun as he knocked down the door to Jones’ office, supposedly. They entered the room and were met with the man glowering, his bodyguards ready to open fire. 

Ryan stays alert, aiming his pistol at him and muttering, “Mike, where the hell’s the cavalry?”

Michael snorts, seeming out of breath. “I think your NSA friend can answer that better than me.” 

Jack frowns, shooting a look at Johnson. She appears calm, calmer than she should be in a situation like this. However, just as he’s going to question her about Mike’s affirmation, Randy takes out her gun at last, but doesn’t aim it at anyone. He furrows his brows, “care to fill me in here?” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Ryan”, Jones chimes in with a heavy accent, eyeing Randy for a moment, solemnly. “And nice to see you again, miss Johnson.”

“You know each other?” Jack blinks, holding his weapon tightly, his knuckles becoming white. He turns off his safety, now raising his voice, “someone better tell me what’s going on here or I’ll shoot, I swear to God.” 

Jones made mention of speaking up again and a door behind him opened to reveal a tall blonde with two other men surrounding him. Randy knew that was her chance and took the shot without so much as a second thought, hitting the stranger on the forehead. Everyone stood shocked, except Jones. The terrorist’s guys yelled at Johnson to toss her firearm and with one hand gesture coming from him, they went silent. She eventually lowered her pistol and sighed, studying the pool of blood around Viktor’s bald head before she took a look at Jack, who seemed as confused as he had been the day prior. 

Johnson approaches Jones and nods, her expression serious. “Thank you. You’re free to go now.” 

Jack widens his eyes and quickly steps between them, still pointing his weapon at him. “What the hell are you doing, Randy?!”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That was the deal.” The girl hugs her own body and the Czech police finally appear, screaming at everyone to lower their guns. “I’m sorry”, Randy glances at him one last time with a hurt look before she leaves and Jones and his men are cuffed and taken away.

“Jack, are you okay?”

Staring at the dead body still on the ground, Ryan places his hands on his hips, in a pathetic attempt to process what just happened. He stands there for a few seconds, then turns around to step out of the building. “Please tell me she wasn’t in on it, Mike.” He begs in a murmur, measuring up the destruction caused by the explosion earlier. “And where’s Greer, too.”

“I’m right here, Jack.” Jim sighs on the other end. “Don’t worry, Johnson’s not compromised. She was just following her orders.”

“Which were?” He kicks off some dust, finding his tie under a broken block of concrete in the hallway. It must have fallen off Randy as they ran. 

“Catching Viktor Vasiliev.” Jack walks among the damage with a sour face, closing his eyes when he finds the woman he danced with earlier that night. She’s dead. Greer adds, “he deals in chemical weapons and was the one behind the Prague bombings all along. Jones was her informant.”

“Catching?” Ryan deadpans. “She killed him, Greer.”

“Those were her orders…”

“You knew about all this.” Ryan reckons, with a more consternated tone as he cleans up the dust off his tie and gets out of the main room—or what’s left of it—, trying not to think of the medics tending to the dead bodies as he passes. “You knew it and you didn’t tell me.”

Jim grunts, “I only found out when I arrived here and the NSA director gave me a call explaining everything. You already had your plan, Jack, and I know you well enough to say with confidence that you would have gone with it anyway. No matter what I said.” 

He scoffs, shaking his head at Greer’s words even though he can’t be seen. Reaching the sidewalk, Jack sees Randy is talking to a police officer from a distance. She’s laughing at something he’s saying while Ryan purses his lips, unable to take his eyes off her figure. “Now what?”

“Now we’re going back to Langley. Our job here’s done, we helped as we could with manpower, but the intel was solely NSA’s. It’s their case now.”

“It has always been.” There’s bitterness in his words, and his scowl is inevitable when he remembers everything. All the lies. “What about Jones?”

“He’s coming with us. He made a deal.”

Jack sighs, looking down at his shoes. “And Johnson?”

Jim pauses. Ryan watches as Randy disappears in a police car without looking back, and he can’t ignore the lump in his throat when the answer comes in his ear, “Johnson who?”

♡♡♡

Randy’s always been in love with Arizona. There was just something about the quietness of the desert, and the way the roads stretched endlessly when driving back home. She hadn’t seen her grandmother in such a long time. A real nice scolding would be the first thing waiting for her as soon as Johnson opened the door to her granny’s trailer, she just knew it; yet it only added to her anxiousness to finally seeing the iconic “welcome to Phoenix” sign on the side of the road. 

Singing a tune along with the radio, she thought back to what she left behind in Europe a week ago. Deciding to quit had been a big step for her, but she was never happier to make a decision. She’s always hated jetlag, anyway. And whenever Johnson saw Jack again, if ever, she would just have to thank him for indirectly leading her to discover this. Turns out the adrenaline wasn’t doing it for her anymore. And albeit it was all she had known until that point in her life, maybe it’s time for a change. Prague taught her as much. Even through the moments of tension, somehow connecting to some ex-Marine’s need for the hustle of going after the bad guys made her notice that deep inside, she was tired of it herself. That didn’t mean switching to “normal”—hell no. 

Quieter, mayhaps. 

A deep sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head at no one in particular, rolling down her windows and smiling as the wind hit her face. Reciting the lyrics to the song a bit louder now, she turned the volume all the way up and stepped on the pedal, patting her door from the outside to follow the beat. Love’s never worked out for her even as Miranda Brooks back in the day. So there was no surprise on her part when the brief romantic getaway with Jack Ryan had a tragic ending—and by tragic, she meant not being physically able to say goodbye to him, face to face. “I hope you’ll understand someday”, was the email Randy sent, and off she went to the States, in a flight separate from his. 

With Jones now in custody—his deal was merely to reduce his sentence, since he did actively help plan other bombings before deciding to do the right thing after Prague—, everything should be fine. Except nothing felt like it, not to Randy. Being jobless and alone was a new thing, so she reckoned it was just a matter of adjusting. Taking a peek at herself in the rearview mirror, the girl thought of changing her hair. The last time she’d been a brunette was prior to enlisting. Another deep sigh left her throat as she rolled the window back up and turned off the radio. 

Who was she kidding? 

No amount of pretending not to care would save her from feeling like the worst person in the world. The whole thing with Ryan was just too fucking much, funnily enough, even for Johnson. Which was beyond her in itself, because lying to people came easy for her, it had to, since it was what she did for a living. But reminiscing about the disappointment in his eyes when she killed Viktor in front of him made her stomach turn every time. How did she come to consider his opinion of her that much? Randy had no clue. Still, she stubbornly persisted in the idea that everything happened as it should have. She accomplished her mission and Jack accomplished his, too. She was well and breathing, after all. He did his job. And without being deceitful, unlike her. 

“You bitch!” Granny exclaims as soon as she spots her granddaughter’s car on the road. She’s in front of her house, wiping her hands with a kitchen cloth as she comes down the little steps before Randy even pulls up.

Laughing out loud, Johnson gets out and runs toward her, squeezing the old woman in her arms. “Granny! Oh, God. How I missed you. You look so beautiful.”

“Liar!” She chuckles, but her eyes are filled with tears. Staring at the rusty pick-up truck behind them, Mary shakes her head in disapproval. “I can’t believe you’re still driving that piece of shit, Miranda. That’s why you never visit your grandmother anymore! You’re probably afraid it’s gonna explode on the way.”

“Shut up, she’s family”, Johnson giggles and kisses her white hair, still holding her close. The scent of home made her heart flutter in her chest. She teases, “c’mon, I’m hungry. You better have made me pancakes!”

“Oh, he did!” Mary hums happily, opening a grin from ear to ear, and Randy raises a brow in inquiry. She shrugs, walking to the trailer along Brooks. “Your friend. He said you were gonna meet him here.”

“My friend?” The girl frowns and touches the gun under her jacket automatically, but as soon as she takes it out, her alert eyes spot the so-called friend sitting on the little couch, sipping a coffee, and stops in her tracks. “Jack?” Johnson breathes out, astonished.

With a shaven face and a sweet smile, Ryan blinked slowly at her. Her knees suddenly went weak and she took a step back, trying to take in his presence. It hadn’t been so long since she last saw him, yet it felt like an eternity. He wore a baby blue shirt and some jeans, and her mind took note of how casual he looked out of his work persona. Her mouth stayed agape as she searched for the words to speak. They all ran out on her. 

“You don’t look happy to see me”, Jack finally murmurs in amusement, causing Mary to exchange a knowing look with him as he stands up, putting his hands in his front pockets. “How are you, Randy?” 

“I’m…” She trails off, even more baffled by his soft and amicable tone now. She really thought he hated her guts. “Jack, I…”

“She’s better now, dear, that’s for sure”, granny chimes in before she can finish, doing a thumbs up. 

Randy’s cheeks go red and she widens her eyes. “Granny!”

“What? I’m old, but I notice these things, Miranda. You like the boy.” Mary smiles and now Jack’s the one blushing and laughing awkwardly. “And he likes you too, for that matter.” After giving Johnson another one of her teasing looks, she points outside and pats Ryan’s shoulder softly. “I’m gonna leave you two alone now. You go talk and make up, otherwise there’s no pancakes for nobody.”

Randy can’t hold back another laughter as her granny steps out of the trailer with the tray full of their breakfast. She’s really not kidding. Glancing at Jack again, he’s still slightly flustered, crossing his arms while raising a brow. Johnson squints, “what?”

“An email? Really?” He asks, his expression wry as he sits back down, resting his elbows on his knees. It’s almost comical how big he looks in that position, especially seated on her grandmother’s small couch. “A text would’ve been warmer.”

“I didn’t wanna hurt you again, Jackie”, even though she tries to make light of it, there’s a sincerity to her words that’s hard not to notice. Taking a seat beside him, Johnson leans back and sighs. “You know, I quit the agency.”

He figured as much, especially because Greer seemed a little sad when questioned about Randy while they had dinner last night. Ryan smirks, not wanting to miss the opportunity, “which one?”

Johnson snickers and nods, comprehensive of his sassiness. “Both, actually. I’m a civilian now.” Looking down at her boots, she bites her lips in thought. 

His orbs fall to her lap, his voice going lower, “why?”

“I miss my granny”, Randy smiles and shrugs, tilting her head. He hums along and she comes a little closer, resting her chin on his shoulder. Jack sniggers, his hand flying to her knee in response. “How about you, why did you come here?”

Jack paused and his breath hitched. He should’ve seen the question coming, but somehow didn’t prepare for it. Why did he come, really? It was lost on him, if he was being honest. There were a lot of points left unexplained about her that still bugged him; like the illegal task force run by NSA, or even why Johnson was pronounced dead and given another identity when she hadn’t even been discharged. What did she do while working undercover for two national organs at the same time, exactly? What were her real motives, her ideals, her drives? Ryan knew this was his chance, perhaps the only one, to clear things up with Randy. However, with green orbs watching him expectantly, his common sense turned into goo. 

“To say goodbye, properly.” Jack’s aware he sounds a lot huskier than necessary, closing his eyes when her face comes nearer. He stammers, gazing at her intensely, “you think I’m allowed that much?” 

She clicks her tongue in jest, giving a head shake. “Jim’s not gonna like it.” 

“Greer gave me the rundown on Randy Johnson.” The corner of his lip curls up as Jack goes in for a tender kiss. He whispers, pulling her into his arms, “he never said anything about Miranda Brooks.”

Randy’s grin got bigger as she let herself be held by him. Much was unsaid between them, but in her experience, there wasn’t a thing in this world that couldn’t get sorted out through a nice chat and some pancakes in sunny Arizona. Besides, who was to say the change she needed in her life wouldn’t be brought by Jack Ryan in his shining armour?

[fecto-forgo]

opinion on susie?

hi sorry this took *reads clock* oh god this is from 8th of september oh christ i was procrastinating on finishing planet robobot bc i didnt want it to be over :c

anyways the short answer is i absolutely ADORE susie n shes easily one of the best antagonists

(note:my knowledge of anything being confirmed outside the implication of how susie knew sphere doomers and her 2.0 pause screen is non existent so uh lol if i get smth wrong? this is just how i connected the backstory lore drops in my head)

the long answer is i think shes extremely good at being sympathetic while still being extremely funny in an evil way, on one hand, i feel its very easy to understand what her deal is, she gets sent to hell as a child, crawls out of it likely already wondering deep inside why nobody came for her but too focused on reuniting with her father, only to find out not only has his work lost the purpose she knew of, but he didnt even know her anymore.i think it makes perfect sense with this shed end up not knowing what to do other than get back at him, like growing up in hell/space void/whatever man im sleepy will not result in you getting out fine and dandy specially if the person who mattered most to you, and who youd remember as your main reason to escape to reunite with, seems to not even care you were gone, and w having to fend for her life constantly, i can see why she wouldnt care for cooperating with his company as long as it leads her to the result she wants (of having haltmann remember and beg for her forgiveness), no reason girl wouldnt have a self benefit only survival sense

also i have nothing deep to say on her being funny shes just objectively the funniest kirby character.yippee! *gives you fatal computer brain damage while already fantasizing of you begging for my forgiveness*

n regarding what she did to meta knight (which is what pisses off most ppl)...its literally no worse than what taranza did to dedede, and not nearly as bad as what forgo did to him.theres nothing implying the robot turning process was painful for him and he literally flies it off like its no big deal.hes fine.also if she was a guy yall would be writing essays on the homoeroticism of your still overly angsty hcs of mecha knight.if you wanna complain abt something susie might have had dedede buried back into the castle rubble after getting his clone dna thing.kinda rude!

tl dr 2.0 no empathy revenge fueled queen whos funny.yippee!

[desirepathzine]

Placebo's Vision of the Present

Placebo are a band that I feel don't get enough credit for describing exactly how it feels to live in our modern age: the paranoia, the anxiety, the hedonism, the big fears and big loves that dominate this moment in time.

Maybe it's my American perspective, seeing as Placebo are largely known and celebrated in the UK, but I find their insight to the current era shockingly prescient. This isn't surprising for their 2022 album Never Let. Me Go but even beyond their most recent entries, Molko and co.'s vision of what it's like to be alive is shockingly prescient.

I was a latecomer to Placebo's catalog, again, not knowing much of them thanks to being based in the United States. Their late 90s debut was a little after my primary era of interest growing up and it wasn't until a few years ago that friends recommended I listen to them.

There probably isn't a better band than Placebo to talk about our relationship to medication, the internet, the climate crisis, and our deteriorating inner lives thanks to the pressures of modern social mores. Always on the outside of society's limitations, especially in their debut era, who better to talk about isolation and alienation than Brian Molko, wearing skirts and makeup whilst Britpop's machismo swagger dominated their homeland's music charts?

Brian has described Placebo as "by outsiders, for outsiders" and that pretty much nails it. There's a deep loneliness in so much of their music. But even more than loneliness, isolation from a world that feels like it has absolutely derailed, but that music also never quite falls fully into total misanthropy. There's a real beating heart at the center of a Placebo record, however bruised it might be.

Especially recently, I find Placebo's antagonistic fascination with technology particularly apt. When I saw the band in 2023 in Chicago, I knew that Brian had previously been vocally adamant that no phones be used during the show, a request mostly followed by our crowd that night in April. But the band has an Instagram presence, and were early adopters of the internet in order to promote back in the day. Their lives shows also feature a fantastic live glitching video setup that lends a surreal tone to the evening.

This is perhaps best exemplified in their song "Too Many Friends", a fan favorite meditation on how the internet spreads a human too thin, living a life of consumption in order to be consumed. Starting with the absolutely banger line "my computer thinks I'm gay", the song can occasionally inspire laughs, especially if you're not expecting it (I admittedly did this on first listen), but it is a genuine, heartfelt, and morose exploration of the digital era of relationships being defined by the screen. In this age of connection, we are all increasingly isolated. Brian laments that he'll never be there personally for all of the people who he might have otherwise called a friend online. It's something I think we've all faced. Someone you don't actually know well enough, or someone so far away that you can't really do anything for them, or have the in-person element of that relationship. It also deals with how the internet defines us, our boxes that we tick for it, the demographics and information that it collects from our true identities and commodifies for capitalistic gains. In response to that banger opening line, Molko later answers "what's the difference anyway?" How do you even engage with the machine anymore? The answer might be "just don't".

The paranoia aspect that I can relate to feels most vital to their latest release, Never Let Me Go. Surrounded by Spies and Sad White Reggae are two of the standout tracks on the record, and describe an onslaught of tragedies, ailments, and fears that can compound simply by existing in a world with a 24 hour news cycle, along with cryptic personal missives from the band. They also revisit their climate anxieties on Chemtrails and Try Better Next Time, the plastic islands starting to pile up on the cover of the record made manifest in the music.

The hard stance for outsiders made in their early work sees its result in these later releases. Did anything change by making these stands? Maybe. Did the world actively get worse? Maybe. Are Brian and Stefan still here trying to dissect these ideas, albeit with more lived experience, sobriety, and the increasingly ominpresent internet linked them to more and more people? Absolutely. I appreciate their vulnerability, musicality, rage, anxiety, and ultimate willingness to write how they feel. In expressing their isolation, Placebo brings the outsiders together, a last rebellion in a shrinking world.

[foolshoujo]

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

haha more like what made me pick up this muse again kjhfsa. which is what always happens, a replay of p3p. i originally made minako's blog in 2014 after needing a change of pace from the rpc i was in at the time & then as always after time i got distracted n picked up new muses in other fandoms. i was on a heavy hiatus borderline retirement from tunglr rp in like 2022 but when atlus announced the remaster port to modern consoles for p3p i just idk everything flooded back & in high gear. persona 3 is a extremely precious game for me & i tend to replay it when im really low mentally, which i was at the time anyways. so i think that plus my very hard personal boundary with myself that i will not venture into new rpcs or very far from minako's blog( ie no new blogs, no new blogs. ) really pushed me to stay. i do have my pokemon oc still & i do have akira now but like these three blogs, sideblogs here are attached to this btw, are like it for me. so i'm super here to stay LOL outside of rp tho p3/p has been huge in my life, after all i have XXII which is minako's barrette & arcana number tattoo'd on my wrist. so she's always been with me so to speak regardless if i'm writing her or not kjhfsda

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

outside of obvious general dni criteria, not much. i do have like a limit about jokes tho at a point if all i'm writing is like shitposts or if i'm only being subjected to it & don't feel as if i'm being taken seriously i get incredibly irritated. i rather be ignored on dash than only seen as a joke or what i write is only for comedic gain if that makes sense ? it just feels disrespectful. but i do love a good meme ! don't mistake me, i'm a big meme myself but i just have hard time & a place settings i guess kjfsh

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

mmm i love writing in general i think i shine best when it's somethin' a lil more plotted out tho. when you match energy with someone & dig deeper into something plotted out it really kicks the motivation in high gear for me. i do love action threads, tho the rpc no matter how many 9328742 years it's been tend to just not write them which i get it can be daunting, but i also love like putting characters into situations & then watching them work through it or against it to get out of it. i feel like i said nothing here HAHHA

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

oh god. oh god my brain is just a picture of this. at all times. i'm always running through stuff in my head, it's the character that tends to shuffle about. however when it comes time to like sit down & write one it all depends on what has popped into my head or become relevant in my eyes. after that i just open my mouth, unhinge my jaw, & then bLEAUghHH words until yall worry about me have u seen me talk in meta posts i cant shut up im sorry but im not kjsfhda

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

i have to have a background noise to function as a person, so yeah i have something on while i write. usually music but sometimes my computers second screen has a video up. usually that's how i watch a lot of tv or youtube. for music it's just whatever i want to listen to at the moment i don't tend to like require or use character playlists to write, it's all up to what my brainworms wanna hear at the moment.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

situational. for the most part when i get to a reply i read through it, reread my reply, reread the reply to it & then go ok what's next & write from there. thinking about what my muse may do too much tends to like dull the line of thinking so i try not to plan out beyond when i'm working on them at the moment so i guess that is more winging it ? i do sometimes when i read a reply before i draft it know what my muse will do & plan it out a wee bit before i can get to the reply, but its not common.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

yeeessssss & nooooo haHAH i'm a bit difficult when it comes to shipping. i've been uhhh lets say burned heavily in the past added with the fact that i'm grey-aromantic i tend to favor other forms of love vs romantic first & foremost. usually i have to have a good relationship with the mun before i'm open to shipping w/ them, which is why for years & years i would more often ship w/ my best friends here rather than like just off the cuff. not that ppl who do casually ship are bad, it's just not for me. i have to have chemistry between myself & the other writer to be able to create something just like any other plot & my muse well she may not be sentient but damn she gotta have some sort of want or lean to it too u kno LOL minako herself has proven to me to be extremely fickle about romance. that comes from being a shoujo-manga-esc protag based on love for humanity. she doesn't have a canonical love interest because she's player controlled & sure, at this point she's my oc which i'm totally writing her with that as the focus bc i feel like all protag ocs for games like this are basically ocs with a general preset provided by the games canon my personal world building is only really a guide & not hard coded for rp. there are characters she finds attractive that she interacts w/ quite often, but attraction does not equate to romantic feelings. she's dense when it comes to romance to her so she'd have to be confessed to completely outright because even when she catches feelings she bottles them up in some idiotic ' this is fine as it is ' mentality which means the other person tends to have to confess before she lets herself bridge that gap to start a romance or dabble it in. i do have my own ships for her, some crossfandom as well. they aren't like rpc related tho. i would explode like a sun a thousand times for these ships i love them.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

modorelin farllee. farllee is the short hand. the creature u see in this icon is also the farllee in question. they are from my favorite comic, muzz by fsc. i also have permission from fsc to use this moniker for myself.

ᴀɢᴇ?

i'm in my mid 30s but i prefer to keep the exact age private.

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

I'M A MARCH BABY BITCH ! ARIES PALS RISE ! my bday passed recently on the 22nd btw :)

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

purple, purple, & purple. as well as black, wine, teal, blue, all the deep jewel tone peacock colors are my favorite. && purple.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

ok here are some of my favorite songs of all time in no order. i have a semi set list of like ten, but here are a few. these songs are like vital to my brain & it's smoothness.

The Sun Always Shines on TV / a-ha

View / SHINee

America's Cup / POND

Space Age Love Song / A Flock of Seagulls

Automatic Man / Michael Sembello

Cookie feat MEIKO / gozenP

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

late night with the devil

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

i've been rewatchin ohshc but also keepin' up with frie/ren & dungeon m/eshi, which i'm happy to finally have an anime for. as for tv shows uhghhhghhh my demon ? idk haha

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

Traps / Bloc Party mv linked has some flashes btw

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

all of it >:) fjksah idk my comfort food rotates out but i struggle with arfid so i tend to push myself to try & eat new foods & more or less consistently eat which i tend to forget to bc autistic disconnect often gets in the way so i dont remember im hungry until its too late hAHAHA WHOOPS

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

visually i like the idea of winter, but realistically i like fall because everything i'm allergic to is dying but the temps are like spring in reverse & also hehehe halloween yay

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

i hAVE MANYYY granted all of my moots r my besties<3 but a hearty shout out to pals ive known for 389472 years that still put up with me like caro ilu @vilestblood :) <- threat(kidding)

tagged: @primordyalsoul oUGH THANK U SUMINNN tagging: @yukcri @ardenssolis @kkriitters @moonflowe @drakeheir @investigationshoujo & IDK STEAL IT N TAG ME

[argumentl]

Report from Tora no ana, Osaka (2023/03/10)

I had a decent ticket number, so was not so far from the front, I ordered a gari chuhai from Kaoru's special menu, and bought merch after getting inside. Everyone was given two sheets for submitting questions to Kaoru, but most seemed to be using one for submitting and one for keeping.

As far as I could see, I was the only non-asian person there, so possibly the only foreigner???

Kaoru came out at about 19:15 with Fujieda and Takabayashi. Short, black hair, hanging in his eyes a bit, wearing a loose, black, kind of shellsuit jacket, a white tshirt, and tracksuit pants/trousers.

The event was being recorded. From my seat I could clearly see the computer screen of the guy recording the event, so I saw lots of close ups of Kaoru via the screen, as well seeIng him in person.

Kaoru raised a toast to start...joining him for this was one of my life highlights. Audience members were ordering food and drinks for Kaoru and the managers throughout the event. They ended up with far more than they could actually drink. Some quite expensive things too, like Yamazaki whisky etc.

Kaoru said he has been bothered by hayfever. He said when he woke up on Friday morning, his eyes felt swollen.

Kaoru commented on the state of the street outside the venue, it filled up with dodgy looking types as soon as the sun went down. (*It really did*)

After getting settled, the talk got underway, and they started with a recap of the Dir activities of the last year. Starting with the Studio Coast live, and running through to the talk with Hazuki in Nagoya recently.

Fujieda was very enthusiastic talkIng about their visit to the Yamazaki whisky distillery.

Kaoru explained again about how difficult the anniversary tour was for him. He struggled trying to stop his old self emerging during that tour.

About the Hazuki talk, Kaoru had agreed to appear on Hazukitchen with Hazuki, but he said this time that he would not cook. He is happy to appear if all he has to do is eat what Hazuki makes.

The recap of last year lasted until almost 9pm, at which point Kaoru suggested a 10 min toilet break.

Getting back on stage, they got started with Q and A session. Despite having probably about 150 submissions, only a small handful were read out.

I have to start here by saying that MY QUESTION WAS CHOSEN! 🥴😱

I asked if Kaoru has been to see any of the other members' lives. Fujieda read out the question, and then also mentioned my name with it, so I was basically screaming in my head. Anyway, Kaoru answered that he has been to see Sukekiyo once, but thats it. Fujieda asked him if he wanted to see Decays and Seraph, and he replied 'Hmmm....' with an expression that said, 'NO' 🤣

Other questions were:

What type of curry do you like? - He likes many types. The fan who asked the question said she likes green curry. Kaoru likes this too, but said that there are a few members of the band who hate Thai food, which is tough when doing overseas tours, because Thai food is often suggested as an option by overseas staff.

Which Slam Dunk character would make the best lover? From a male viewpoint, and a female viewpoint - Kaoru said, Hanamichi for male, and Mitsu for female. Then he revealed that the white tshirt he was wearing was actually a Mitsui tshirt, he pulled back his jacket to reveal the shirt design underneath.

Which direction does you hair spiral at your crown? - Both managers got up to inspect the crown of Kaoru's head, but couldn't see much of a spiral. Kaoru said that since his hair tends to fall over his right eye, that probably influences which angle its growing from his crown.

What food reminds you of the taste of home? Kaoru says his mum always makes this dish using the fish buri during the first few days of the year.

How do you deal with creative slumps? - Kaoru basically said to embrace slumps as part of your life journey. They are what they are, and they will lead you to your next path eventually.

What is the best souvenir to get in Osaka? - Kaoru was very adamant about this, and his answer was kasu udon. The type that you can buy in a box from Shin Osaka station, and its very delicious apparently. He wouldn't hear of any other souvenir being suggested, is HAS to be this for him.

I think these are the only questions he answered, but the talk continued nevertheless. Other topics of conversation included:

The shops in the vicinity of Tokyo Garden Theatre. Fujieda is very impressed with the giant Daiso (100yen store) and the giant Mujirushi there. He mentioned a few things he likes to buy at Mujirushi, and then Kaoru says he gets his slippers at Mujirushi, especially slippers for summer time use. He gets a pair there every year without fail, and explained them as something fairly similar to this --> ルームサンダル・鼻緒 (google this product with 無印良品)

Kaoru also said he is planning another art exhibition hopefully in summer this year, but it will probably only be in Tokyo. He said he has just recently finished four or five pieces, and he hasnt been writing any new music at all these past few weeks.

Focus moves onto Takabayashi, as he has been fairly quiet. Kaoru says that Takabayashi is one of those people who knows something about everything. Wherever they go, he will be pointing out trivia and facts about everything they see.

Takabayashi said he is no good at talkIng at length, and this reminds them of that Youtube/TFOE combo that he MC'ed for remotely in 2020.

Kaoru said he wants to organise a trip for Tora no ana next year, but maybe somewhere where Dir have never played a live before. Suggestions included Wakayama, Saga, Shimane etc.

When talking about the photo exhibition, Kaoru said that the shot of him looking backwards which was used for that ticket/sticker was him turning to ask the staff, 'Shall we go get something to eat?', but the photographer got a quick shot at that moment.

Fujieda mentioned about Die surprising Shinya at the Seraph event, which Kaoru had no idea about! He asked Fujieda what the event itself was like, and Fujieda explained that Shinya talked a lot. After each song ended, he would say, 'Hai!/OK!' very swiftly, before going on to explain what the next song would be. This had Kaoru CRYING with laughter! He said 'Imagine Kyo screaming the end of a song, and then saying 'Hai!' each time. Kaoru said (while wiping copious tears from his eyes) he might think about going to a Seraph live, just to witness this!

Fujieda said he was having so much fun, he wants to do this kind of event every month. Talk began of how Toshiya is really the only member who doesnt really do this kind of thing, so Kaoru suggested Fujieda to persuade Toshiya to put an event on.

As this month is Toshiya's birthday, Kaoru raised a toast in celebration of Toshiya, and wished him a happy bithday.

A lot more chat about this and that went on in addition to the above, but the event lasted 4 happy hours, which for ¥3500, is not bad at all!