#This is part 1 of a 3 part conversation. Gimme a sec
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Bad: Hey, Jaiden!
Jaiden: Yeah?
Bad: How do you feel about a vacation?
Jaiden: A vacation? Wait– I love vacations! Wait– where? Where's this vacation?
Bad: Well it would be a surprise location!
Jaiden: That's even better! I love surprises!
Bad: Yeah! But you'd have to stay there for a while.
Foolish: Oh–
Jaiden: Oh, ok, like how long?
Bad: [After a long pause] A while!
[Foolish and Jaiden laugh]
Jaiden: Yippee! Vacation for a while? Wow!
Bad: Vacation for a while! What do you think?
Foolish: Wait–
Jaiden: For me? Personally? Oh, I would love to go on a vacation for a while.
Foolish: Would it– would it–
Bad: I just– I just remembered Foolish, the uh, bird only talked about other birds, didn't talk about people!
Foolish: Ohhhhhh, I see.
Jaiden: Wait, what? Wait, what are we talking about?
Foolish: The birds and the bees, and the fish.
Jaiden: No, wait– I don't want to meet any bees!
Bad: Oh no, there will not be bees.
Jaiden: Are you trying to set me up with someone?
Foolish: [Laughs]
Bad: Whoa– what the fudge! No! Foolish–!
#Jaiden Animations#Badboyhalo#Foolish Gamers#QSMP#Foolish#Bad#Jaiden#October 14 2023#I meant to post a bunch of clips earlier but didn't want to transcribe them OTL#Doing it now#This is part 1 of a 3 part conversation. Gimme a sec
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Scp-1996 - Have you ever seen missingno?
Object class: euclid
Special containment procedures: scp-1996 is to be a kept in a small room that is a decorated like a typical bedroom of someone his age.a reality anchor is to be kept on the premises at all times. Many video game consoles are to be kept in his containment cell at all times.
Description: scp-1996 is a human male around 14 years of age, with extremely pale, slighty purplish skin, which has multiple square markings on it that resemble pixels in varyjng shades of purple. He has extremely dark purple hair and eyes. Parts of his body seem to glitch out at random intervals. Scp-1996 has many scars on his body that suggest that he has tried to [REDACTED] in the past. Scp-1996 is a curious and excitable individual, and appears to have an interest in video games created in the early 1990s to late 2000s that are released on consoles made by nintendo, sega and sony, and likes to have handheld consoles on his person at all times.
Scp-1996 appears to float above the ground most of the time, and is his primary form of locomotion. He rarely ever touches the ground. Usually only landing to complete tasks that require him to do so, although he seems to tiptoe when standing on the ground, and seems to almost "bounce" on his feet when he is forced to stand on the ground for prolonged periods of time without access to a video game console ,which distresses him deeply.
Scp-1996 has also been observed to pick at the scaring and markings on his arms and face, often causing damage to his skin.
Scp-1996 is considered a reality warping anomaly. If left alone with little to no external stimuli, he will begin effecting a small area around him, approximately 3 ft in radius, causing the area around him to begin pixelating and changing color. It has been observed that scp 1996 likes to change this radius around him into a video game styled world, likely to keep himself entertained. When threatened by any individual, scp-1996 will create radius around himself and said individual, and will [REDACTED] until said individual leaves his radius or dies. Victims of scp-1996's defensive mechanism, dubbed a 'cinnabar event' have been observed to become pixelated, begin to glitch out, it be completely erased. Scp-1996 has been observed to feel remorse for any fatalities caused by a Cinnabar event.
Experiment log - 1996-1-Halycon
D-1996-435 enters scp-1996's containment cell
D-1996-435:...uhm...hello?
Scp-1996 is floating midair, playing on a gameboy advance
D-1996-435 is ordered to try and get 1996's attention
D-1996-435: uh...helllooo?? 1996?
1996 doesnt respond
D-1996-435: 1996? Can you hear me?
1996 doesnt respond
D-1996-435 tries snapping his fingers, which startles 1996, which almost starts a cinnabar event until 1996 realises that d-1996-435 isny a threat
1996: oh- oh my god dont scare me like that jesus christ!
D-1996-435: dont scare me like that either! I thought you were gonna kill me!
1996: alright alright, whyre you here?
D-1996-435: welll uh...they wanted me to ask you a few questions,1996.
1996:...wow you can just call me ash yknow, 1996 is a mouthful and i keep gettin tonguetied saying it.
D-1996-435: well uh, ash they wabted me to ask you some questions, can you come down please
1996: oh sure thing. Gimme a sec
1996 descends to d-1996-435's eye level. He is still floating.
D-1996-435: the document i was given said you needed to like, sit down for the interview...
1996:...wait really? Damn...alright alright atleast i have this on me
D-1996-435: ok so question 1, uhm...yknow that thing you do where you just tiptoe when youre touching the floor? Whyd you do that?
1996: honestly? Dunno. Its just a thing i do apparently.
D-1996-435: you ever try to...like...not?
1996: you mean like, stand normally? Yea buuut the floor felt weird so i decided not to
D-1996-435 starts writing down what 1996 said
D-1996-435: sorry i have to record this conversation. Its for archival stuff i think
1996: oooohh...archival stuff...sounds interesting
D-1996-435: yea, its probably not though. Anyways question 2, the Cinnabar events, why do you do those?
1996 seems confused
D-1996-435: i mean, those times when you start bending peoples forms in those litt-
1996: OH! You mean those...thats i think a defensive thing...its..uh...well its not the best i wish i could like...not kill people in those...i hate doing that...
D-1996-435: right, right. So its like, not intentional
1996: nah. Id try and work on it buuuut...my weird reality warping powers dont work in here sooo...yea...
D-1996-435: ah ...got it.
D-1996-435: ok ok...final question, theg only wrote 3 questions on this board...the scars...what...what caused those
1996 started to look distressed, and began picking at one his scars on his right arm
1996: ah...well uhm...do i...have to answer...
D-1996-435: no you dont have to...unless you wanna, but im assuming its a topic you dont wanna talk about
1996 nodded
1996: can we talk about something else? I can show you how far ive gotten in this game im play-
Foundation staff appears to escort d-1996-435 out of scp-1996's containment chamber.
1996:...ah.
Addendum 1996/A: a note has been found in scp 1996's cell regarding d-1996-435.
"Well...just spoke to one if those d-class guys. I like him, yknow. If any of you scientist guys see this, can you guys like arrange another interview or smth or anything, really. i wanna see him again. Like can we play video games together? Please? I wanna show him how many pokemon ive got in pokemon ruby! Look im proud of myself mkay."
Addendum 1996/B
Scp-1996 has been observed accidentally clipping out of his cell. Usually he only does it to wave at passing scientists or to watch any experiments he can see. If he exits he usually goes back into his cell as its usually accident. Scp-1996 has been observed to try and watch other tests, although guards often prevent him from straying too far.
[END OF REPORT]
Ooooo!!
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Highway to Heaven - Ch. 5
Your best friend Johnny wants to go on a road trip. The only catch? He wants to bring his roommate, Jeong Jaehyun, someone you just couldn’t stand.
Genre: e2l, fluff, angst, smut (18+ only)
Warnings: fingering, swearing
Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @sehunniepot @jaejoongiewifey-blog @glxwingstar (send me a message if you want to be tagged)
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4
A/N: A bit of smut in this chapter, but what will it meannnnnn ;)
You woke to arms around you. His breath tickled the back of your neck. He was cuddled into you, his body molded perfectly around you. You didn’t know what to do, you were truly torn. You had to admit it felt nice, to be held by someone again, but you still weren’t sure how you felt about him, and this would certainly be a complication. You shifted slightly, but it was enough to wake him. You could hear him waking up, his consciousness slowly returning, and when he finally realized the position he was in, he froze. He slowly removed his arms from you and turned over in the bed.
“Rise and shine, sleepyheads!” Johnny came into the room, pretending to cover his eyes, “Is there anything going on I should know about?” he questioned innocently, as he threw himself onto the bed in the space between the two of you.
“Grow up,” you complained, getting out of the bed and heading for the bathroom.
“Dude, what happened?” he turned to Jaehyun. You left the room but hovered behind the door, wanting to hear what Jaehyun would say.
“I screwed up! I was doing so well, staying to my side of the bed, but when I woke up I was spooning her!”
“What! Did she know?”
“I don’t know, I took my arms out carefully, she didn’t move, so I don’t know? Ah man, I fucked up. She’s never gonna trust me now.”
“Hey, maybe she didn’t even know? We can only hope.”
“I can’t face her without apologizing though.”
“Suit yourself.”
You heard the bedsprings groan as Johnny got up from the bed, so you ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. You sat on the edge of the tub, head in your hands. You’d never been in such turmoil before, it was usually pretty clear to you if you were attracted to someone or not. Jeong Jaehyun, however, threw you for a loop. On the one hand, he was that callous playboy who slept around with women and dumped them at any inconvenience. On the other hand, he was that guy who would hold your hair back as you threw up, the one who would remember the most innocuous things you liked, the one who would stare with wonder at stars. The one who cared about whether or not you would trust him.
“Hey Y/N, hurry it up in there!” Johnny knocked obnoxiously on the bathroom door, “We got sights to see!”
“Gimme a sec,” you called back, turning on the faucet to splash some water on your face. You looked at yourself in the mirror and decided to be resolute. You had to trust your instincts.
When you came out of the bathroom Jaehyun was on the balcony. The morning breeze was fluttering his hair, his bangs falling into his eyes, which were closed. He was leaning on the railing, in a plain white tee that hugged his shoulders, the hem of it waving slightly in the wind, threatening to give you a view of his perfect abs. You looked away quickly, grabbing your suitcase and heading for the door, hoping he wouldn’t notice you. No such luck.
“Y/N!” he called, coming back into the room. His hair was now mussed from the wind, a bedhead look that would be unattractive on anyone but on him, it just increased his attractiveness. It almost made you angry. “Hey, I just wanted to apologize for last night.”
You faced him, your emotions warring in your gut. “Don’t mention it.” You said in the calmest voice possible.
“I really didn’t mean to-”
“I know.”
“I just need you to know-”
“I get it, Jaehyun. Let’s just forget about it, okay?” You walked away, leaving him standing alone in the room.
---
That day was spent at a local market, the three of you navigating through the stalls of fresh fruits and vegetables and various homemade goods. Once in a while one of you would stop and peruse the wares, or try samples offered by the food sellers. Jaehyun gave you space, not overtly avoiding you though, which you found you were thankful for. He’d sometimes point out things to you and you would just nod before walking away, missing the lingering looks he would give you. At one point Johnny went off to look at some leather goods, leaving you and Jaehyun alone at a fruit stand.
“Would your girlfriend like to try some?” the fruit seller had offered Jaehyun a sample of their peaches, and had gestured towards you, standing behind him.
“Hm? Oh, she’s not my girlfriend,” he offered politely, “just a friend.” The seller apologized, and the two of them continued to engage in conversation about the fruit.
You stood there, feeling like someone had just stabbed you in the chest. There was a dull throb that at any other time you might have thought was a heart attack, but you’d felt it before and you knew exactly what it was. You could feel your face getting hot, ridiculous tears pooling in your eyes. You willed them not to fall, and thankfully they listened.
Johnny came over then, and seeing the look on your face he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but you stopped him.
“Hey I’m just gonna go back and find that stall that sells soap, you guys stay here I’ll catch up with you later.” You turned and walked away quickly, not giving them the chance to protest.
By the time you had found the soap stall you had calmed down, still determined not to let whatever you were feeling for Jaehyun come to the surface. You’d picked out some soaps and decided to wait for them back at the car. Eventually they came back, talking and laughing over something they had seen.
“Let’s go, I’m hungry,” you called out, getting into the passenger’s seat as Johnny got into the driver’s seat. When he caught your eye he mouthed are you okay? You nodded and he didn’t press any further, knowing that sometimes you needed your space.
You didn’t offer much to the conversation for the rest of the night, not at dinner at the local taqueria, not even when you were all choosing the local motel for the night.
“You guys choose,” was all you said, and soon enough you were pulling up to the gaudy neon sign of the closest roadside motel.
“I managed to get a room with two beds this time! Are you proud of me, Y/N?” Johnny poked you in the side teasingly, but you weren’t in the mood for his jokes.
“Just remember that I’m not sleeping with you,” you warned.
When you got to the room you let the two of them wash up first, wanting to take a long hot shower to soothe yourself. Before you went into the bathroom the two of them were in the same bed, but when you came out Johnny had moved to the other bed, his long limbs splayed out so there was no room for anyone else. Both were asleep. You sighed, thinking about kicking Johnny in the head for being an ass, but thought better of it. Jaehyun was on his side, and even though he wasn’t the smallest person, he was so tucked into himself he took up very little of the bed.
Screw it, you thought, and just laid down on the bed beside Jaehyun. You were too tired for this and sure enough you fell asleep seconds after your head hit the pillow.
---
You were dreaming and you knew it, but it felt so real. His hands were warm on your skin, caressing your naked stomach, reaching down further, parting your legs. Before he could reach your core you woke with a start, not realizing you had cried out in your sleep until you looked over and Jaehyun was staring at you, his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.
“Y/N?” he whispered, “Are you okay?”
You huffed in frustration. “Fine.”
“Were you having a nightmare?” he asked softly, “You almost screamed.”
“No, it wasn’t that kind of dream,” you sighed.
“What kind of dream was it?” he asked innocently.
“Don’t worry about it,” you snapped, and he took the hint and turned over.
You, however, were still aroused from the dream, and it was making you frustrated beyond belief. You had to finish yourself if you were going to have any peace, so you looked over to make sure he couldn’t see. Satisfied that what you would be doing wasn’t in his viewpoint, you slipped your hand down your panties and dipped your fingers into your pussy. Sure enough you were wet from the dream, and so you proceeded to finger fuck yourself, but in that position your fingers just couldn’t reach your g spot and it made you even more frustrated. You swore under your breath, and suddenly it hit you that the person in the bed next to you definitely had long enough fingers to reach. You must have been delirious with arousal to even consider it, but you were beyond rational thought at this point.
“Jaehyun,” you whispered, but he didn’t respond, so you shook his shoulder lightly. He turned to you.
“What’s wrong?” he asked sleepily.
“I need your help,” you whispered, and he propped himself up on his elbow to look at you.
“Of course, what do you need?” he whispered back.
“I need you to help me get off.”
You could barely make it out in the dim light but he was blinking his eyes rapidly, shaking his head at the same time. He was definitely malfunctioning.
“I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly-”
“Yes, I need you to finger me until I climax, can you do that?” you clarified. You could feel your arousal slipping away and you were desperate.
“I mean, yeah, but are you sure? What does this mean for our relationship?”
“Listen, I’m horny as hell right now and I can’t even think about that. This is going to be awkward either way, whether you agree to it or not, at least if you do it I’ll have gotten an orgasm out of it.” Your argument was twisted but he contemplated it and seemed to be swayed.
“I guess that’s true…” he agreed, and you almost whooped in relief.
“Great, here, give me your hand.”
He obliged, and lifting your shirt, you took his hand and placed it palm down on your bare stomach. He inhaled sharply when he made contact with your skin, and the same feeling from the dream returned to you.
“Mm, that’s good,” you moaned softly, which emboldened him. His hand moved independently now, slowly down, and you squirmed in anticipation as he got closer.
“That’s it,” you encouraged, as his fingers reached your folds and he began to part them.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered in awe, and when you moaned again he slid two fingers in. Your back arched off the bed, a silent scream dying in your throat as he started to pump his fingers inside you.
You pressed your lips together to keep from making a sound, not wanting to wake Johnny, but you could feel an intense orgasm coming on. Jaehyun’s fingers were heavenly, hitting you directly in that spot that made your toes curl. You pulled at the sheets as the pleasure in your gut ramped up.
“That’s it,” Jaehyun whispered in your ear, “Come for me, baby.” The combination of his magic fingers, the low tone of his voice, and the term of endearment sent you spiralling. Stars exploded behind your closed eyelids as you had the strongest orgasm of your life at that point, your body shaking, pussy clenching around Jaehyun’s fingers.
He let you come down from your high before he removed his fingers, and you sighed softly at the loss. He got out of the bed quietly and came back with a damp towel to help clean you up, gently wiping away your arousal. When he was done he pulled the covers back over you and smiled.
“Sleep now,” he whispered, because your eyelids were fluttering, and the last thing you remember before you fell into slumber was his fingers ghosting along your cheek.
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Thunderstorm Ι Ch. 4 Ι JJK
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Werewolf!au
Word count: 7, 535
Warnings: Characters in a less than healthy state of mind, violence, slight body horror, an addicted to cigarettes Jungkook (don’t do drugs, kids!)
Summary: An accidental encounter triggers a series of events that shatter your monotonous life. A new relationship starts to develop, following the stages of a thunderstorm.
Note: Written under the influence of beautiful music
1 2 3 4
Chapter 4: Downpour
Dull light seeped into your room through the sheer curtains hanging on the window. Raindrops drummed against the glass in tune with the quiet music flowing from the radio. Gray clouds diffused the sunlight, painting the world in desaturated hues of its former colors. The forest just beyond your back yard oozed with thick white fog. You lay in bed awake for what seemed like hours, watching the night fade away.
You heard a door creak, followed by quick footsteps against the hardwood floor of the hallway. A beat of silence and then the muffled sound of dishes rattling reached you. You listened to your roommate prepare herself a bowl of cereal and sit down to eat with the quiet voice of the weatherwoman to keep her company.
“… ranging from 5° to 10°C during the day, however temperatures will drop below 0° in the evening and we might even be getting some snow for the first time this season.”
You rolled over in bed, glancing at the clock on your night stand. Your head sank back down into the pillow. Porcelain clacked against stainless steel in the sink and water started flowing from the faucet. Once she was done, your roommate padded back down the hallway and went into her room.
With a sigh you pushed the covers off of your body. Cold air immediately crawled over you, rising goosebumps in its wake. The hand that previously rested on your stomach started gliding up the length of your body, across the valley of your chest and came to a stop at the junction of your neck. Underneath your palm your jugular throbbed vigorously with the memory of your intimate dream in mind. The skin of your throat, although clear, tingled with the ghosts of a dozen love bites, left behind by the lips you very soul yearned to capture. You closed your eyes, reliving for the umpteenth time the way your fingers would run through his thick hair, blunt nails grazing his scalp ever so gently as lithe sighs tumbled from his mouth. His hands held onto your waist tightly, pressing you against a hard body that felt oh so hot to the touch. His satin skin felt heavenly gliding against your own.
“Jungkook…” you whispered when his sharp canines grazed against a raw patch on the side of your neck. He only hummed in response and squeezed you harder. His tongue running the length of your collarbone was the only warning you got before he sank his teeth into the fleshy swell of your breast. Your hands tightening in his hair and the tiny whimper that reached his ears stopped him before he got too carried away. Your whole body was tingling. The pain from the shallow bite made the adrenaline spike in your system.
You sighed again, covering your hot face with your hands. You almost felt embarrassed about how much you enjoyed that dream. It was so vivid you could still feel him if you concentrated. Turning your imagination off for now, you rolled out of bed.
You listened to the monotone beeps of the barcode scanner as you tried not to focus on your wet socks. Your old sneakers had lost the battle with the weather once again, causing your feet to become soaked in the cold, invasive rainwater. The person in front of you had rolled up to the register with a heaping cart full of absolute garbage. As you scanned bottle after bottle of cheap alcohol and copious amounts of snacks you couldn’t help but think that this kid was preparing to throw the biggest party his teenage-self had ever attended. He’d walked up to you with a wide grin and a hand already offering his ID to prove that he’d just recently become a legal adult. Coming around to the last few items, you peeked up only to see him excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet, staring intently at the goods you were tucking into the big paper bags to your right. His bill came up pretty steep, but he was more than happy to throw two hundred dollar bills on the counter, telling you to keep the change. You watched him wrestle the bags into his arms clumsily and run out the door after waving you goodbye. You dropped the $9,50 inside your tip jar as you started to wonder when was the last time you got that excited about something. You glanced at the clock on the wall and figured you still had a while before your shift ended. With a sigh you propped your hip against the register and reached into your back pocket for your phone. Yara’s number was the first one to show up in your history and after a few short rings she picked up.
“Sup?”
“Hey, I’m working. Can you talk for a bit?”
“Uh-huh,” her voice sounded kind of muffled “gimme a sec, I got some brushes in my mouth.”
“Yeah?” You giggled
A rattle sounded on the other end “I’m doing my makeup. What’s up?”
“Do you want to hang out later?” you cringed right after the words left your mouth “I don’t have much to do after my shift ends.”
“Sorry hun, I already have plans with that one guy. I mean you’re welcome to tag along, but you might not enjoy it as much as I will.”
You immediately knew what she was talking about. The guy in question was someone from one of Yara’s classes and she’d had an eye on him for a while. It was nice of her to invite you, but the thought of her not-so-subtle flirting in public made you want to hide.
“Yeah, I’ll pass. You two have fun.”
“Thanks!” you were just about to bid her goodbye when she chimed in “Why don’t you call Jungkook?”
Your heart skipped a little. Why? Because you were afraid that he won’t pick up, again. You didn’t feel like going through the mortification of having to leave a stupid voice mail only for him to never call you back. Yara took your silence as hesitation and continued.
“Y/n how long are you going to pretend that you don’t like the guy?”
“I’m not. I do like him;” Your voice was small “I just want some feedback from him.”
“I’m happy you admit it at least.” Yara’s tone softened “You know there’s nothing wrong in asking him, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m afraid of rejection.”
“That’s fair. Still, you’ll never know for sure unless you ask him.”
You nodded your head, vaguely registering that Yara couldn’t really see you. The conversation had reached a point at which you didn’t want to respond and Yara knew it.
“Okay, bye. I’ll see you at university.”
“Bye, hun. Do you want me to call you tonight?”
“No, it’s fine. Call me if something happens.”
“Of course.” Yara knew to reach out to you in case of an emergency “I’ll see you later.”
And with a click the line went silent. Outside thunder rumbled in the distance and the sound of raindrops against the windows of your shop softened.
Just a couple of customers came in after that. The first one wandered around the aisles for a while, leaving wet footprints everywhere, and left once the rain started to subside. The second one entered shortly after the first, bought a chocolate bar and left without sparing you a single glance. You waited around for several more minutes before fetching the mop. In the midst of scrubbing the white tiles with admirable vigor your hand slipped on the handle and you fell face-first into the rack in front of you. Multiple packs of cigarettes, lighters and other accessories tumbled to the ground. Cursing under your breath, you watched the shelf wobble dangerously, but thankfully manage not to fall. The commotion caused the items that didn’t fall out to topple over instead. With a huff you shoved the mop back into the bucket and pushed it aside. You were going to be stuck rearranging merchandise for hours.
Perched on a step ladder, you reached into the very back of the top shelf to try and get the last few boxes of cigarette filters. You’d managed to put almost everything back by the time your shift was over. Glancing over at the clock you figured that as per usual Yoongi would be arriving late. You hugged the stacked boxes to your chest and proceeded to place them back on the shelf in neat rows.
The little bell above the door jingled.
“Hello.” You greeted blindly
By the sound of slow footsteps, headed for you, you assumed it was your coworker finally showing up. Placing the last item in its place you were just about to speak again as the footsteps came to a stop. The words died in your throat when you felt a pair of hands smooth up your thighs and curl around your hips. You flinched at the contact, turning to look at the person behind you. Turning around, you were surprised to see Jimin smiling up at you. Without a word he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off of the step ladder.
“Hey.” He mumbled, not letting go of your body. In fact, he tried to pull you closer, which you countered by pushing your hands against his chest.
“Jimin, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, I was in the mood for something sweet and just happened to stumble upon you.”
Oh, he was in a mood all right, you could tell just by the look in his eyes. His naturally dominant nature was practically radiating off of him, nailing you in place. It was going to be difficult to get out of this situation, you could feel it.
His fingers played with the hem of your shirt as his gaze dropped to the sliver of smooth skin, peeking out of the unbuttoned collar of your shirt. All of a sudden you felt terribly exposed in your normally conservative work uniform.
You cleared your throat and made a move to create some distance between the two of you. With a final squeeze, his hands parted with your body.
“So, how have you been?” You tried to ease the tension with small talk as you speedily walked up to the register. Jimin languidly followed suit. You could hear his footsteps approaching behind you while you pretended to scrub the glass counter with a small rag you managed to find inside your pocket. Unbeknownst to you, your back was left completely exposed and Jimin wasn’t about to pass up on that opportunity. A chill ran the length of your spine when you felt his arms close in on either side of you, hands coming to rest on the surface in front of you.
“I’ve been good.” He whispered and you hated the way your body trembled at the feeling of his breath against the shell of your ear. “And you?”
“M-me too.”
All of your self-control betrayed you in the face of his close proximity. Your hands started shaking when you felt the faintest brush of his hips against your ass. All of your senses were overcome by his scent and the warmth, radiating off of him. You almost felt gross about the way your body immediately reacted to his advances, without giving you the chance to think about it. He dipped his head into the curve of your neck, hot breath gliding over your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, swallowing with difficulty and trying your best to stay still to minimize contact. Jimin breathed a soft chuckle and your heart flipped. A dark, deep seated desire to give into him started to slither its way out of the cracks of your consciousness. You felt entranced, as if someone had taken over your mind for a long moment before the rational part of you jumped in. Giving into Jimin was the worst possible thing to do right now. You parted your lips, swallowing a big lungful of air to try and clear your head. Just as you were about to speak, the bell on the door jingled, piercing the atmosphere around you.
You jumped as his arms quickly dropped from your sides. You turned just in time to see Yoongi walking in with his sights already set on Jimin.
“What are you doing here?” your coworker jumped straight to the point
Jimin grinned innocently “Nothing illegal, hyung.”
Yoongi was staring Jimin down with a stern look on his face and you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something you didn’t know.
“I’m, uh, I’ll go change.” You mumbled awkwardly and started to back away. Neither of them payed you any mind, frozen in a silent face-off.
The staff room door clicked behind you as you leaned against it. You waited there for a few seconds, trying to hear if they started talking now that you were out of the picture. You quickly gave up, figuring that at best Yoongi would tell Jimin off and make him leave. You were half way through pulling your jeans over your ass when you heard your coworker throw in a few expletives, but when you paused to listen in, the conversation became indistinguishable once again. With a huff you shoved your uniform inside your bag.
“Shall we head out?” Jimin offered once he saw you walk out of the door and you just nodded begrudgingly.
“Yeah, Jimin you can go ahead, I need to have a word with y/n for a sec.”
You were surprised that your coworker butted in and came to a stop once you reached the register. Jimin just shrugged and walked out without any objections. Yoongi waited until he was out of sight before he turned to you.
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into, but don’t mess around with Park Jimin.”
Straight to the point, huh? You could feel your face heating up with the embracement of being caught red handed. Of course Yoongi had seen the little stunt Jimin pulled earlier. Hell, a lot of people probably saw, considering you were in plain sight of the huge windows. You could maybe play it off and blame Jimin for the whole situation, but the truth is you made no move to push him away. Knowing that it was partially your fault stung worse than the embarrassment of being caught. Yoongi’s sharp eyes held no sympathy for your unfavorable position.
“I assure you, he’s not what you think he is.” He continued “Stay away from him.”
You looked at him confusedly. For some reason the ambiguity with which he spoke made your hair stand on end.
“Now, go out there and tell him to fuck off.”
“But why didn’t you-” You tried to protest, but he cut you off sharply.
“Because it’s not my place to intervene. He needs to hear it from you.”
You stared back at him with a sour expression even though you knew he was right. He wasn’t going to budge and you needed to sort your own problems like an adult.
“Come on now, get lost.”
You sighed and headed out without saying goodbye. You could feel his eyes on you until you exited the store and rounded the corner. Once you were out of sight, you spotted Jimin leaning against the exposed brick wall of the neighboring building. He had his hands in his pocket as he stared off into the night sky. The last slivers of sunlight were becoming extinguished by dark and heavy rainclouds. The lamps lining the street started to flicker on. You eyed Jimin for a second before shoving your fists into your jacket pockets and walking up to him.
“I love it when it rains.” He stated simply once you were within earshot. You watched his profile as he inhaled deeply. “Are you driving tonight?”
“Yeah.” You lied
He turned to look at you. The streetlight reflected off of his skin, making his features look sharp. You squeezed your fists tighter. The look in his eye was taunting, like he saw right through you.
“Let me walk you to your car then.”
It wasn’t a suggestion. Out of nervous habit, you bit down on your bottom lip.
“No, thank you.”
“Why not?” He retorted, taking a step toward you “It’s dark, something might snatch you up.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just around the corner.”
Jimin’s gaze dragged slowly down your rigid frame. He smirked when his eyes landed on yours once again. This whole situation was all too entertaining to him. With a few long strides he closed the distance between you. Before you could step back, his hands came to rest just above your elbows. He cocked his head to the side and pouted when he saw you frown.
“Y/n…” he mumbled in a raspy tone “We’re both adults, right?”
You stared up at him wordlessly, breath hitching in your throat when you saw him lick his lips.
“I really like you.”
“Damn, you sound desperate.”
You jumped away from Jimin immediately. You turned just in time to see Jungkook rounding the corner with a cigarette and a knowing smirk hanging on his lips. He walked up to Jimin and got right in his face, tucking you safely behind his back in the process.
“Fuck off, Jimin.”
As he spoke, he blew smoke in the elder’s face, making him flinch back and cough into his hand. Jimin glared at Jungkook, taking a few steps backward before turning on his heel and taking off down the street.
You watched the whole thing go down with bated breath. You were expecting a much bigger commotion to ensue after Jungkook stepped in so aggressively, but Jimin surprised you when he simply ran off. You stared after him until his silhouette was no longer visible.
Turning around to face you, Jungkook exhaled a deep sigh. The smoke from his by now almost burnt out cigarette swirled around you, making you sniffle. You watched intently as his expression softened once your eyes met. Without a word, his hand closed around your forearm and you fell into his chest. His arms squeezed around your shoulders and you couldn’t hold back from hugging him back. Jungkook rested his chin on the top of your head and breathed a sigh of relief. You blinked once, twice and it felt like an eternity before he finally spoke up.
“Don’t do that. Please, stay away from him.” You felt his heart pound against your cheek as he spoke. His plea sounded soft and shaky. Not really knowing how to respond, you just squeezed his waist tighter. It felt so good to embrace him like that, you never wanted to let go. His warmth, his scent, his heartbeat, everything about him made you feel safe. Jungkook felt you nuzzle into him and it made him chuckle lightly. His hand smoothed over your hair soothingly before he pulled back to look at your face. You didn’t realize you were smiling until he grinned back at you and a soft blush bloomed along your cheekbones.
“Let’s go, hmm?” he offered quietly
“I’d like that.”
His hand slipped down the length of your arm until your fingers intertwined. His skin was dry and cold, but the feeling of it made warmth blossom in your chest. Jungkook gently tugged you closer to his side as you strolled down the street. You happily watched the way your footsteps seemed to match his perfectly while he would occasionally steal sideways glances at your pretty face.
“I kind of want to wander around for a bit. Is that okay with you or are you too cold?” Jungkook asked softly.
You turned to properly look at him. His otherwise pale face was dusted pink at the tip of his nose and cupid bow. You didn’t know if it was the look in his rounded eyes, but you suddenly felt bold.
“I’d like to spend some more time with you, too.”
Jungkook immediately grinned at your confession, a light laugh rolling off of his reddened lips.
“I’m relieved to hear that. Honestly, I’ve been missing you lately.”
Your pulse quickened, but you didn’t allow it to choke out your next question “Where were you then?”
You watched him carefully as the question seemed to catch him off guard. He smiled tightly and broke eye contact. A few deep breaths passed through his lungs before he was ready to speak.
“I… You could say I’ve been dealing with myself.”
He glanced back at you and you didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. You could tell that he was tiptoeing around the truth by the way he avoided prolonged eye contact. His hand unconsciously tightened around yours. You realized that it was making him uncomfortable, but the mystery that was Jeon Jungkook was plaguing you for far too long and you couldn’t let it go that easily. He chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to make up his mind. Your attention was suddenly diverted when you saw a pointed canine sink into the flesh of his lip. It wasn’t impractically long, just sharp enough to become noticeable. Although Jimin’s canines were more pronounced, Jungkook’s seemed eerily similar. You found yourself running your tongue along your upper row of teeth to see if it was more common than you thought, but yours were dull, flat almost. You stared at his mouth in poorly disguised bewilderment until you noticed him looking. His lips pressed tightly together as you slowly looked up to meet his eye.
“What?” You blurted out dumbly and he just shook his head. The pace of his footsteps didn’t falter when he retrieved yet another cigarette from his back pocket. You watched the flame of his lighter cast a yellow light to his features for a brief second then flicker and die. He inhaled the fumes deep into his lungs. You were almost mesmerized by the way smoke poured from his lips and brushed past his cheekbones.
“I needed to figure some shit out?” Jungkook’s next attempt at explaining came out sounding uncertain. He glanced back at you. “I had to decide how I feel.”
The last line piqued your interest.
“About what?”
“About a lot of things.” He looked ahead as he took another drag from his cigarette “About…you, too.”
His hand tightened around yours and you could almost feel it close around the heart hammering in your chest. You fell silent. You wanted to pry further and ask more questions, but the rapid pounding in your ears drowned out your words.
Your legs were moving on their own as you tried to keep up with Jungkook who was sucking the life out of his cigarette faster than you thought a man was capable of. The store windows lining your peripheral soon faded as you crossed a couple of walkways and found yourself at the entrance of the town park. The place was nothing spectacular with long winding stone paths going across fields of withered grass and trees with nothing but bare branches to flaunt. You stared up at the intricate curves in the iron arc that was once part of the park gates. You followed Jungkook past it and down the main path obediently. Thin fog swirled around you while rotting wet leaved squelched underneath your old sneakers. You stared straight ahead as you tried to make up your mind. You wanted to continue this conversation so badly, you couldn’t let the opportunity slip, but you were suddenly tongue tied. By this point you were convinced that your feelings weren’t one sided and now was the chance to have Jungkook confirm it verbally, but you were afraid. Until now, you’ve only just come to terms with the feelings part, but you didn’t exactly know what that implied. Something told you that if Jungkook was willing to pursue a relationship, that would mean long term commitment, like really long term. You actually couldn’t picture yourself with anyone else beside you and you barely even knew the guy. Never in your twenty-something years on this Earth have you ever looked at a man and thought “I could grow old with him.”. Until you encountered Jungkook it seemed alien that a person you meet in your twenties could be the one you spend the rest of your life with. And the rest of your life was such a long time too, you didn’t think you could ever be prepared to make a decision like that. On the other hand, your chest clenched painfully at the thought of just letting him walk out of your life. Your hand squeezed his weakly.
You watched the old lake come into view. As you approached its murky waters you had already made up your mind.
You stopped abruptly when you reached the edge. Jungkook wasn’t expecting it and tugged on your arm once before also coming to a stop. Those tall old post lights lined the edge of the lake and you happened to be standing underneath one of them. You knew Jungkook was looking at you questioningly, but you needed a moment to compose yourself before facing him. You watched the wind ripple the surface of the water as you breathing steadied.
“How…” you started quietly before turning to him “How do you feel about me?”
Jungkook immediately recognized the look in your big glossy eyes and it made his heart skip a million times over. Electricity violently zapped the surface of his skin, spreading from the point where your fingers were still intertwined. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, making his breathing heavier. You looked pale, timid and vulnerable under the fluorescent lights. Jungkook felt like he was holding your fragile porcelain heart right in his bare hands as you had unknowingly given him permission to do with it whatever he saw fit. He swallowed once, twice, but not a single syllable rolled off his tongue, even though the answer to your question was quite simple to him. In his head he repeatedly chanted that he was taking way too long to respond. Oh, he would be one hell of an idiot if he chickened out now.
The tiniest movement beside your face caught his attention briefly. A small white speck was floating down from the sky, crossing the lantern’s light only to melt on your shoulder. Another one followed shortly after, and another, until Jungkook realized it was snowing. Thousands of tiny snowflakes dusted over the both of you, some disappearing into the ground and others getting caught in the loose strands of your hair. Jungkook was positive that he had never seen a prettier sight than your worried face with a halo of melting snowflakes framing it.
He yanked you into his frame by your hand. You flinched at the sudden disturbance, but your body moved toward him regardless. His hands rested gingerly at the top of your hips, smoothing over the wrinkled material of your jacket. He seemed hesitant, but the soft look in his eyes soothed your racing heart.
“I have very strong feelings for you.” He finally muttered and it made him cringe at his wording “Shit, that sounded weird. What I want- … what I meant to say is that I like you very much.”
You couldn’t stop the grin that overcame your features. He was too cute as he got flustered and stumbled over his words a little. Nevertheless, Jungkook’s expression mirrored yours.
“Yeah, me too.” You whispered when he pressed his forehead to yours.
“Can I kiss you? I want to do it properly this time.”
Your whole body was warm with giddiness and it felt like your cheeks would crack with how wide your smile had gotten. You nodded lightly, afraid that words would ruin the atmosphere that had started to form. Jungkook looked at you for a moment longer before his eyelids dropped and he leaned in closer. His mouth brushed yours lightly at first, testing the waters before diving in deeper. His lips tasted of cigarette smoke, but nothing could describe the feeling of completion that filled your chest once they pressed against yours fully. Your fingers slipped up his shoulders and neck until you could bury them in the hair at the back of his head. He pulled you flush against his front, clasping his hands at your lower back. His lips moved slowly against yours, sighing every now and again when you tugged at his hair. Your whole body was tingling, waves upon waves of relief and happiness washed over your anxious heart as you could finally feel his hair underneath your fingertips, his skin against yours and his scent surrounding you. Cigarette smoke had never tasted so sweet, mixed in with something that was so distinctly Jeon Jungkook it made your soul flutter. He never tried to slip his tongue into your mouth, instead his kisses were chaste and gentle. It had been so long since you’d been kissed properly, but somehow your body seemed to naturally react to Jungkook’s touch. He held you close, his warmth seeping into your body and crawling up to your face, tinting your cheeks a shade of pink.
His lips finally detached from yours, but he wasn’t ready to part with you before giving you a few more pecks. When he pulled away, your eyes finally cracked open, only to find him already smiling fondly down at you. By the time you separated, a significant amount of snow had piled up on top of his head and it made you giggle once you noticed. Jungkook quickly caught on to what you were laughing at and shook his messy hair abruptly, making the snow scatter around him and into your face. The cold snowflakes stinging your skin as they melted only made you laugh harder and Jungkook joined in with a soft chuckle of his own.
“Man, you’re pretty when you laugh like that.” He mumbled more to himself, but you managed to catch it. You just stared into each other’s eyes with stupidly wide smiles, just feeling content and warm in the other’s embrace even as cold wind howled past your bodies.
“Do you want to come watch a movie at my place? I’m not ready to let you go yet.” Jungkook asked suddenly and there was no hesitation in your mind when you agreed.
Safely tucked under Jungkook’s arm and lost in sincere conversations, you walked the two miles over to his house, which you found out was only a few streets away from yours. Stepping over the threshold, you were immediately struck by the strong smell of timber and cigarette smoke. Jungkook slipped his boots off by the door and you followed suit. He helped you hang your damp coat up to dry and led you down the narrow hallway straight into his living room. His house was dark, walls painted in dull shades of beige and gray, hardwood floors a deep brown and old heavy wooden furniture filling out the space. The living room had a semi-modern disposition with only a countertop separating the kitchen from the main area. The place was also oddly cold, like it had been vacant for a while. Jungkook flicked a switch, flooding the room with pale yellow light that didn’t make it much easier to see what with how weak the lightbulb was. You stood awkwardly with your hands clasped together in your flimsy sweater and thin socks, enduring the cold and doing your best to disguise it. Jungkook seemed unbothered as he walked past you and into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.
“Well,” he started once he downed his glass “make yourself at home. I know it’s not much, but that’s what I have to offer.”
You quickly shook your head because your own house was nothing spectacular either. You didn’t expect a university student like himself to be living in a mansion after all.
“It’s fine, it’s just-” you hesitated when he looked up at you questioningly “I’m kinda cold?”
Jungkook paused for a second, as if processing the information, you’d just presented him with and what it entailed. You just stared at him in silence, shifting from one foot to the other until it finally clicked for him.
“Oh, I don’t have central heating.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly “But, I can get you something to wear?”
You nodded gratefully and he disappeared down the dark hallway to presumably fetch you something warm from his bedroom. While you waited, you wondered what his room might look like. He didn’t look like the type of guy that owns a lot of stuff, judging by the minimal personal belongings scattered about his living room. He returned with a black hoodie, one you recognized he’d been wearing around campus a lot. You quickly pulled it over your chilled body once it was within your grasp. The garment was brushed on the inside, warm and cozy as it fell down to the middle of your thighs. You rolled the sleeves a couple of times to uncover your hands and Jungkook chuckled.
“You look tiny in my clothes.” He said jokingly
“Don’t flatter yourself. This thing is oversized even on you.” You shot right back, feeling playful. Jungkook let out a breathy laugh as his hand came to smooth over the top of your head.
“What kind of movie are you feeling tonight?”
“You’re the host, surprise me.” Your snarky replies seemed to break up the awkward atmosphere and ease the both of you.
“Horror is far too cheesy for me to even suggest it…” he tapped his chin, pretending to ponder over his options “I guess we just have to watch Iron man.”
You snorted unattractively at his suggestion
“Iron man? Are you 10?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault it’s the best movie ever!” He put his hands up in defense and grinned “Besides, have you even seen it?”
“You got me there.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it.” He seemed genuinely excited to watch it with you and it was contagious.
“I’ll go ahead and download it on my laptop then.” He turned to go but then paused and turned back to you “I- uh, I have a roommate... Do you mind watching the movie in my room instead of the living room? I don’t want to disturb him when he comes home later.”
You nodded with a smile. “Is it a problem if I hang around here for a little longer?” you asked, gesturing toward the kitchen
“No, not at all. Do you need anything?”
“I was wondering if I could fix myself a cup of tea?”
“Sure, kettle’s on the stove.” With that he walked back into his room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
You wandered into the kitchen. The cold hardwood floor matched the rest of the house and you thought about how impractical it was if something were to spill on it. As promised, an old aluminum kettle was sitting on the gas stove. You lifted the lid and peered inside, only to find some stagnant water at the bottom of it. You made a face, but washed it out nonetheless. Now filled with fresh tap water, you placed the kettle back on the stove. You fiddled with the switch a little bit to try and adjust the flame, but it was either too strong or too weak, so you just settled with the stronger one and left it at that. You propped your butt on the counter and started looking around. The kitchen was fairly clean, but clearly old and worn out. The fridge to your right was starting to turn yellow and the cupboards above you, albeit nicely crafted wooden pieces, were probably extremely squeaky. You looked around the items, placed on the counter. Next to the knife block and underneath the rack of hanging utensils you found a wooden box with the word ‘TEA’ engraved on the lid. While you looked through the various flavors, you absentmindedly noted that Jungkook didn’t own a microwave. Plucking out a bag of mint tea, you turned to face the hallway to his bedroom. You’d poured enough water for two cups of tea in the kettle, but you didn’t know what kind he preferred, nor where he kept all his cups.
“Jungkook?” you called out as you settled by the stove once again.
You heard some muffled footsteps before he poked his head out from around the corner.
“I don’t know where the cups are.”
Jungkook walked into the kitchen fully and you noticed that he had changed into a black shirt and some sweatpants. He walked straight up to you and reached for the shelf right above your head. The smell of clean laundry hit you once his chest was in your face. Until now you never noticed how much the cigarette smoke covered up his natural scent. It was clean and sweet, girly almost, with the slightest hint of cologne, but it somehow suited him. Only after he’d placed the cup on the counter did he notice how close he had gotten to you. You blinked up at him as he seemed surprised for a second. Without a word, he swooped down and captured your lips. It was your turn to be surprised, but it didn’t take long for you to melt into him once his hands circled your waist. This time his kisses weren’t as gentle. He was bolder, pushing a little harder against you and even sliding his tongue along the seam of your lips. You timidly parted them for him and he immediately went to work. The taste of cigarette smoke was persistent on his tongue, but it did nothing to dampen the satisfaction you felt as it slipped into your mouth. Jungkook hoisted you onto the counter behind you and lodged himself between your parted thighs. He was getting really daring now, breathing harder and letting his hands wander down to the swell of your hips and ass to pull you flush against his torso. Adrenaline was spiking high in both of your systems and you started to feel excitement buzzing in the pit of your stomach. His lips separated from yours to move into the junction of your neck. He yanked the collar of his hoodie down to expose more of your skin as he heatedly kissed up your throat. You couldn’t stop the gasp that slipped past your lips at his ministrations on your sensitive flesh. His body reacted to the noise and you felt his hips push a little harder against yours. Your legs squeezed his waist as your hands tried to find purchase in his hair. You could feel the shiver running down his spine every time your nails scraped against his scalp. He was focusing on a spot that made you whimper quietly, sucking and licking the skin there to make you release more of the sounds he’d become so fond of.
Before you could get too carried away however the kettle beside you started whistling loudly, startling the both of you. Jungkook quickly pulled away from you and reached over to turn off the stove. The sound persisted for a few more seconds before dulling down to a quiet wheeze. He rested his hands on top of your thighs that were still hanging loosely on either side of his waist. The two of you stayed silent for a while longer, just locking eyes until Jungkook started to crack up.
“What?”
“Sorry about that.” He managed in between breaths and you had no idea if he was apologizing about laughing, or the kettle, or what, but you just joined him in cackling. He helped you hop off the counter and held your hands until you both calmed down. While you were busy catching your breath, he picked up your abandoned tea bag and dropped it into the mug he’d retrieved for you earlier. He grabbed the kettle from the stove and carefully poured the boiling water into the cup.
“How do you like it?”
You didn’t know if it was the aftermath of your make out session or something else he had in mind, but you completely misunderstood his implication. Your face flushed. “Huh?”
“What do you like in your tea?” Jungkook chuckled.
“Oh, um, I drink it plain.” You fiddled with your fingers awkwardly “Do you want any?”
“Nah, I don’t like tea.” When you turned to look at the box on the counter, he clarified “That stuff’s my roommates. He won’t mind.”
Jungkook handed you the hot steaming mug and motioned toward the hallway. You followed him closely on the way to his bedroom. The corridor was also fairly bland with only dull beige paint and three old wooden doors decorating the walls. Jungkook pulled open the first one on the left and you could feel the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke seeping out. His room was cold, dark and surprisingly empty. There was a double bed pushed in the corner of his bluish-gray walls, a small night stand under the window, an old desk and chair and a chest of drawers where you assumed he kept his belongings. The clothes he’d worn earlier were draped over his chair and the covers of his bed were disheveled, but apart from that there was nothing else to give the room some character. There were no pictures of family or friends, no posters or books, not even general everyday stuff a person might leave around his room. It honestly looked like he’d just moved in, which was unlikely. You stepped in and looked around even though there wasn’t much to see. Jungkook’s laptop was sitting on his desk, a chunky piece of electronic with all sorts of colorful blinking lights. You’d never seen one quite like this and to be honest it was the second most interesting thing in this house aside from its owner. Jungkook moved his chair at the foot of his bed and placed the laptop onto it, ready to stream the movie.
“Hey, do you mind if I open the window?”
“Is it the smoke?” Jungkook chimed up “Sorry about that too.”
He walked over and pulled the blinds up. The window opened up with a creak to reveal the already snow-covered street. It wasn’t anything severe, but it had probably piled up about an inch high. In the patches of light, provided by the street lamps, you could see it was still snowing significantly, without showing any signs of stopping. Cold crisp air flooded the room, making you shiver gently and grip the hot mug between your palms tighter. A pair of built arms wrapped around your middle from behind. Jungkook’s warm chest pressed into you, compelling your body to relax into him.
“I’m glad I get to spend this moment with you.” He rested his chin on your left shoulder and looked out the window too. “This is my favorite time of the year. I always get excited when it starts snowing for the first time.”
“It’s lovely.” You confirmed fondly, feeling so domestic already. It felt like you’d known Jungkook for ages and this level of intimacy was only natural. His hands smoothed over your sides, enjoying the feeling of your curves underneath the material of his hoodie. He breathed in, inhaling your soft scent and basking in the satisfaction of finally having you in his arms. He never wanted to let go, and frankly, you didn’t either. His closeness alone was enough to wipe your mind of any worry. You pulled the mug up to your lips and sipped on the scolding beverage. Mint tea, a snowy night and Jeon Jungkook was easily becoming one of your favorite combinations. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your neck and moved away from you to close the window.
“You might catch a cold, get in bed.” He said.
While he pulled the blinds closed once again, you placed your mug on his night stand, next to his ash tray and crawled under his pale gray covers. They were recently washed and smelled pleasantly, but it felt kind of weird to be laying in a different person’s bed. Jungkook owned a single pillow so you settled to occupy only half of it. When he turned to look at you, you tapped the empty spot beside you with a sheepish smile.
“Damn, I’d kill to have you waiting for me in bed like that every night.” He grinned, making your heart skip. While he went to turn on the movie, you thought that you, in fact, would also love to have him in bed with you every night. As the opening credits started rolling, Jungkook scooted closed and wrapped his arms around you. Your own arm draped over his stomach as you settled into the blissful comfort of his warmth and affection.
About forty minutes into the movie you couldn’t resist his steady heartbeat lulling you into the most peaceful and fulfilling slumber you’d had in months. The nearly full mug of mint tea started growing cold on the night stand, forgotten.
Note: It’s about damn time I posted... I’m still having trouble with my computer, but I somehow managed.
#bts#ggukienet#bangtanarmynet#jungkook smut#jungkook#jeon jungkook#BTS jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#werewolf#jungkook werewolfau#bangtan#bangtan boys
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the plan
pairings: jihope, minor taegi and namjinkook genre: fluff, light angst, non au, meeting the parents au, rated pg15 warnings: referenced sexual content a/n: written for the first round of the jihope love exchange held by @jihope-love! words: 4107
summary: Jimin’s head over heels in love with Hoseok, but Hoseok only sees him as his cute dongsaeng.
Step One: Admit Your Feelings
"Do you think he even knows if I exist?" Jimin asks, splayed out across Taehyung's bed as the younger scowls at his desktop, for once not wearing his headphones.
Taehyung doesn't bother looking up from the screen, too focused on blasting the enemy team away from the payload. "Who?"
Jimin sighs as he shifts onto his stomach and gives Taehyung a pained look. "Hobi."
When Taehyung doesn't answer right away, Jimin sighs again and turns on his back, staring up at the ceiling of Taehyung and Namjoon's room. He can hear the sounds coming from Taehyung's computer, the gunshots, the character's voices and the loud footsteps of Taehyung's enemies, but he ignores all of that to study the ceiling instead, picking out designs with his eyes alone.
It isn't until Taehyung's team has won the game that he hears Taehyung turn in his chair to face Jimin. "You're asking me if Hoseok, the man who shares a room with you, knows if you exist?"
Jimin keeps his gaze on Taehyung's ceiling. "Yes."
Taehyung sighs and shakes his head, lurching out of his chair to join Jimin on the bed. "Jiminnie, what's this about?"
Jimin turns until his face is pressed into Taehyung's chest, curling up into his best friend's embrace. "I think I'm in love with Hoseok."
Taehyung sighs and pets his hair, briefly rolling away when he remembers about his game. "Hold on. Gimme a sec to exit out, Jiminnie."
Jimin nods, replacing Taehyung with a pillow instead as the taller boy approaches his computer then returns back to lay down beside Jimin within less than a minute. When he does, Jimin looks over the pillow to meet the probing gaze Taehyung is directing at him.
"So, you've finally admitted to yourself what we've all known for years then?" Taehyung asks.
Jimin blanches. "What?"
Taehyung stretches his arms above his head, sighing when something cracks. "Jiminnie. We all know that you've been in love with Hobi ever since you met him."
"But...I just..." Jimin trails off, biting his lip as he takes in this new information. "I just figured it out recently. How could you all have known?"
And then very quietly, "Does Hobi know?"
"Nope. Not as far as I know. Anyway, he wouldn't have told me if he did," Taehyung replies, throwing an arm over Jimin's waist as he settles into the bed again. "But we all know how you feel about him. It was really obvious from the get-go."
"Why didn't you say anything then?"
Taehyung laughs, the sound of it somehow comforting to Jimin as he curls into Taehyung's embrace again, abandoning the pillow. "It wasn't any of my business what you feel for him, Jiminnie. Namjoonie told me whatever happens between you two has to be dealt between yourselves. We weren't allowed to interfere unless you guys did something on camera."
Jimin pales, his stomach rolling with Taehyung's words. "Namjoon said that? To all of you? Really?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, why do you think Jeonggukkie's been putting himself between you two lately?" Taehyung asks, big brown eyes pinning Jimin with his curious gaze. "Minnie. All this time and you really didn't know?"
Jimin shrugs, not meeting Taehyung's gaze. "I've been busy with other things. I mean, I didn't realize I was in love with him until, like, last week, Tae. How could I have noticed the rest?"
Taehyung clicks his tongue and pulls Jimin a little closer, sensing that his best friend is stressed. "Well, you know now. What are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know."
"Do you want to date him?" Taehyung asks after a moment of silence has passed.
Jimin shifts beside him, his face feeling warm. "Yeah."
Taehyung nods, a grin spreading across his face when he asks his next question. "Do you want to bone Hoseok?"
Jimin buries his face in Taehyung's sheets, the back of his neck and tips of his ears red. He nods, his reply muffled, and Taehyung laughs while he prods at Jimin's side to get the older man to turn over.
"Can't understand you like that, Minnie," Taehyung teases, still poking at Jimin's side. "Now. Do you or do you not want to have sex with Hobi?"
"...yes," Jimin murmurs, his face blazing. "But he doesn't see me like that. I'm just a cute dongsaeng to him."
"Because you are a cute dongsaeng. But still, it's good you admitted your feelings," Taehyung says with a nod, smiling too warmly for Jimin to think he's teasing him. "That's the first step."
"First step of what?"
"Getting into Hoseok's pants," Taehyung replies cheerily, laughing when Jimin blushes again, pressing his palms to his eyes to block out the image of the younger man beside him.
"Oh my god," Jimin groans, the parts of his face that Taehyung can still see a darker red than before. "I'm never going to hear about the end of this now."
"Do you want to hear my brilliant plan or not?" Taehyung asks, still smiling as he rolls over Jimin to get to his pillows, wrapping his arms around one as soon as it's within his reach. "It's foolproof, you know?"
Jimin doesn't say anything for a while and Taehyung thinks that he might just up and leave the room too, but Jimin stays rooted to the spot, biting down on his lip as he scoots closer to Taehyung. "What's your plan?"
Taehyung grins, a little smug as he watches Jimin inch closer to hear his brilliant plan that has zero chances of failing.
After all, Taehyung had used the same plan on Yoongi.
Step Two: Find Out What He Likes
Jimin eyes his phone like his life depends on it, thumb hovering over the screen.
He's had Kakao open to the same chat room for what feels like an hour now, debating what to type, how to start the conversation that's been burning in the back of his head for a while now.
Hoseok's display name taunts Jimin with each passing minute. He's quickly losing resolve and he still has no clue how to begin.
Jimin sighs and falls back into bed, feeling a little lonely without Hoseok being there, but the elder is at his parents place in Gwangju, having felt the need to visit as soon as Bang PD-nim gave them a short holiday in place of Chuseok, when they'd be in the States, too busy and too far to come home. He stares up at the ceiling, debating and thinking until, finally, he decides to go with the first idea he'd had.
jimin: hobi-hyung, wanna play a game?
Jimin already regrets sending the message but he can't stop himself from watching his screen, letting out a tense breath when the little one by his message quickly disappears. He waits as patiently as he can force himself to be as Hoseok types out a reply, the message appearing almost instantly.
hopie: sure. what game? :3
Despite Jimin knowing what he's about to do, he smiles down at the emoticon. It's one of Hoseok's favorites and he tends to always use it at the end of his texts when he messages Jimin. Jimin's heart swells up in his chest, climbing up into his throat with enough force to knock Jimin breathless. He gulps it down, focusing on what he's about to do, breathing through his nose to calm his breath.
jimin: a game where we share what we'd like to try
Jimin waits until the one has disappeared again before he sends his next message, sweat accumulating on his brow.
jimin: in bed
Hoseok's message takes a while to get to Jimin, long enough after the one has disappeared again that Jimin decides this is a bad idea and he should drop it now while he's ahead. His hands are shaking and he knows that he's sweating profusely now, but he continues to watch his screen, gasping when Hoseok's message finally pops up.
hopie: ...sure, how do we play?
It takes Jimin a second to realize that the elder has agreed before his thumbs are flying across the screen, his keyboard suddenly feeling a million times smaller as he tries to type out the rules as fast as he can.
jimin: we take turns saying something sex-related and then answer with: kink, like it, would like to try, have tried and don't like it, or hard-pass
hopie: wouldn't it be easier to use emojis or numbers instead? like 5 could be kink, 4 - like it, 3 - would like to try, 2 - have tried and don't like it, 1 - hard pass
jimin: sure, that sounds easier. do you want to go first?
Now is the elder's chance to back out and Jimin's almost sure of the fact that Hoseok will because Jimin's game is so out of the blue and Hoseok is probably busy having a good time with his family andー
hopie: ok! um...blow job! :3
Jimin almost cries in relief, he can't believe Hoseok is playing along with him.
jimin: 4
hopie: 3
jimin: wait, you've never given anyone a blow job before?
hopie: don't tease! i'm your hyung! but no, i haven't. been too busy, remember?
jimin: oh...right
hopie: your turn!
Jimin bites his lip. What the hell is he supposed to ask about? Hoseok had started with something basic so maybe he should too.
Keep it simple.
jimin: hand job!
hopie: 4
jimin: 4
hopie: my turn again :3 mm...let's get more nitty, gritty. handcuffs!
jimin: 4 when i use them on someone, 1 if they're used on me
hobie: we're the opposite lol 1 if i use them on someone, 4 when they're used on me :3
Jimin almost smiles. He bites his lip to keep the smile from spreading, but then he realizes that he's alone anyway so he lets the smile bloom across his face as he and Hoseok keep up their back-and-forth game of finding out about each other's likes and dislikes.
Maybe Taehyung's plan is foolproof after all.
Step Three: Show Him You Can Take Care of Him
Jimin's been a sweating mess the entire afternoon. Hoseok has asked him a number of times if he's okay, but Jimin had swatted his worries away and smiled, doing his best to make it seem like he wasn't screaming on the inside.
Now, they sit at a cafe, coffee on the table in front of them.
Hoseok is talking about how nice it was to see his parents, but all the while, Jimin's focusing on the fact that he never once called it home.
Hoseok talking about his parents, makes Jimin miss his own. But that doesn't override the nerves he's feeling from being at this cafe with the man he's crushing on, all by themselves.
Jimin sips from his coffee, nodding along to what Hoseok's saying, but not meeting his gaze anymore.
He feels a little sad now the more he thinks about the last time he visited his parents.
"Jiminnie. Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Hoseok's voice breaks through Jimin's thoughts.
Jimin startles, blushing as he finally meets the elder's gaze, stuttering out, "W-What are you talking about?"
Hoseok gives him an unamused smile, his teeth gleaming from the fluorescent lighting above them. "You've been moping this entire time. Did something happen with you and your parents?"
Jimin shakes his head, blush darkening on his face. "No. I just..."
"You just?" Hoseok prompts, leaning over the table to crowd into Jimin's space, forcing the younger to answer him. "Come on, Jiminnie. You know you can tell me anything."
"I know I can!" Jimin hastens to answer, flinching when he realizes how loud he was. "Sorry. I just don't want to put a damper on things. We were having a nice time and I don't want to ruin that with my bad mood."
Hoseok smiles and takes Jimin's hand, interlacing their fingers together atop the tabletop. "Jiminnie, if you're in a bad mood, just tell me what's causing it so that I can make you happy again."
Now Jimin knows that the flush he's sporting is working its way down his neck and onto his chest because he feels warm and tingly all over and why can't Hoseok understand that he can't just say things like that without running the risk of making Jimin spontaneously combust? Jimin sighs and tries for a smile, gripping on tight to Hoseok's hand.
"I miss my parents is all. Sometimes when I think about them, I don't think of my bedroom there as home anymore. Home is here and I don't know, I guess I'm just a little sad for finally having grown up," Jimin murmurs, eyes downcast again.
Hoseok puts his other hand on top of their joined ones, his palm soft and warm, and Jimin looks up to meet his gaze. "It's okay to grow up, Minnie. It's a part of life and I know your parents wouldn't blame you for not thinking of their place as home anymore. If you'd like, you could come with me to visit my parents next time I go."
"Yeah, I'd like that," Jimin says with a nod, feeling lighter now. "Thank you, Hobi-hyung."
The smile Hoseok gives him in response could very well outshine the sun. "Anything for you, Jiminnie."
Jimin smiles back, even while knowing that he completely failed step three of Taehyung's plan. At least he's well on his way to fulfilling step four though.
Step Four: Meet the Parents
Hoseok's parents are as warm and inviting as Hoseok is and Jimin completely understands where the elder gets it from now.
Mrs. Jung welcomes Jimin with a tight hug, holding him pressed against her chest and Jimin feels the inexplicable urge to cry because it's been too long since a mother held him. Mr. Jung also hugs Jimin, taking him completely by surprise when he'd gone for a handshake himself, but it turns out alright and Hoseok's father even pats his back before letting him go, a warm smile on his face as he does.
Hoseok throws an arm around both of his parents' neck, crying a little as they all hug. Jimin politely averts his eyes.
"Mom, Dad. I'd like you to meet Jimin. He's my favorite dongsaeng," Hoseok says once his parents have ushered them into the living room, cups of coffee on the table to greet them.
Jimin tries to not let on how his mood instantly wilts when Hoseok says that, so he smiles and waves instead, not really understanding why Hoseok waited until now to introduce him properly.
Hoseok's parents exchange looks and a knowing smile, pinching Hoseok's cheeks before saying simultaneously, "So, we have a new son."
Jimin does his best not to let his smile slip, no matter how creepy that might have been and laughs when Hoseok fails to get out of his parent's grip.
"Well, yeah. Sure, you could say that, I guess," Hoseok replies, resolved to let himself be pinched to death by his parents. "Jiminnie's like my broー"
"Son-in-law, great!" Hoseok's mother says then, cutting off whatever Hoseok was going to say.
"Then you won't mind sharing your bed then, Hobi. The guest room is being cleaned out right now so we can't offer it to Jimin until two days from now," Hoseok's father adds on, smiling kindly at Jimin with a knowing glint in his eye.
Jimin pales. They can't possibly know that he's head over heels in love with their son. Right?
Not right, Jimin thinks to himself as Hoseok's mother turns to smile at him too, the same knowing glint in her eyes.
Is he that obvious that even Hoseok's parents can instantly tell how far gone he is over Hoseok?
Jimin smiles back anyway. "I don't mind sharing. As long as Hobi-hyung doesn't either."
Hoseok shrugs. Sharing a bed isn't something new to either of them. When Jimin has nightmares, he usually finds himself in Hoseok's bed by morning anyway. But ever since figuring out how he really feels for the elder, sharing a bed has felt both awkward and exhilarating at the same time. Still, Jimin can share the same bed as his hyung. It's no problem.
Really.
"I don't mind either. It's not like it's the first time anyway," Hoseok says nonchalantly, focusing on the coffee on the table as his parents exchange glances and nod.
"It's settled then," Hoseok's father begins.
"You'll be sharing the bed," Hoseok's mother ends for him.
Maybe Jimin should be a little freaked out how in tune Hoseok's parents are, but all he can really focus on is the fact that he's going to be sharing a bed with the elder.
Hoseok smiles at him as he sits down beside him on the couch, wordlessly pushing a cup of coffee in Jimin's direction. Jimin smiles back, a variety of emotions racing through his veins when Hoseok meets his gaze, doing his best to not let any of them show. Hoseok's parents sit on the two armchairs, smiling at their sons.
Jimin mentally crosses step four off his list as he sweats over step five.
Step Five: Seduce Him
All day Jimin has been restless.
It's day two of his stay at Hoseok's parents and Hoseok has been nothing but beautiful and tempting.
The day before Hoseok had shown him around town, even showing Jimin the corner where he used to busk. Jimin had followed him dutifully, smiling as he immersed himself in Hoseok's hometown of Gwangju. Little by little, Hoseok's jeolla had begun to crop up the longer they stayed here and Jimin would be lying if he didn't find it a little hot.
Today they'd visited the old dance studio Hoseok used to practice at and then they'd danced together.
Not like the dances they're used to doing for performances, but the fun ones. The ones they used to do for fun back when they were trainees and newbie idols.
It's still as fun as Jimin remembers. Hoseok's smile had never left his face, even when he kept eye contact with Jimin throughout it all, their smiles had never faltered. Even with his own feelings, Jimin's glad that they can still have fun like they used to.
Once they'd collapsed on the studio's floor to take a break, it'd taken all of Jimin's willpower not to jump Hoseok's bones right then and there.
Watching the elder pant as he lay on the floor, sweaty and eyes closed was enough to drive Jimin mad. Completely and absolutely mad.
Jimin knows that he isn't going to make it through the rest of this trip. Even as he waits for the elder to get out of the shower and join Jimin in bed, he knows he won't make it. Hoseok and his unknowing beauty are going to kill before long.
Because Hoseok is beautiful. Not in an idol way though. Hoseok is beautiful in his own way. He's happier, more carefree as if he isn't J-Hope, member of BTS, but as if he's Jung Hoseok, Gwangju born and raised. Being in Hoseok's hometown has made the elder brighter, something in him being switched on as they walked his childhood streets together. Hoseok had even held his hand, uncaring of the stares they received from older people, and Jimin's heart had melted in goop.
He is so done for.
Hoseok enters the room then, towel over his head letting Jimin stare at his bare chest unabashed. The towel soon disappears when the elder hangs it on the hook behind his door, running a hand through his hair as he turns towards the bed and smiles at Jimin.
"Ready to sleep, Minnie?" Hoseok asks, his voice softer than Jimin's ever heard it before.
Jimin nods, not knowing what else to say and Hoseok climbs into bed beside him, making Jimin scoot over until his back is pressed against the wall. Hoseok's only in boxers as he nestles into the sheets on his side of the bed, even scooting forward a little so that he's touching Jimin's arm. Jimin knows what he wants, Hoseok likes it when his arms are stroked as he sleeps, it's a habit his mother had instilled in him since birth and Jimin is helpless to Hoseok's wants as he reaches out and rests his palm on Hoseok's elbow, the elder's skin soft and warm underneath his touch.
Hoseok hums appreciatively, curling even further into Jimin's embrace until they're pressed chest-to-chest, their legs tangled together. Jimin's heartbeat thumps erratically in his ears and he only hopes that the elder can't hear it.
Jimin's hand is beginning to move now, fingertips trailing up from Hoseok's elbow to his shoulder, pausing when Hoseok sighs with the movement, something peaceful hidden in the sound. Jimin stares at him, he's been staring all day really, but this staring is a little more special.
Jimin knows that if Hoseok were to open his eyes right now, he'd see right through Jimin and figure everything out. Everything would be blown. The love Jimin harbors for Hoseok is clear in his eyes and even Hoseok wouldn't be able to miss it.
It's just that when Hoseok does open his eyes, Jimin can't force himself to look away. Not because he's tired of hiding his feelings, but because Hoseok is staring back at him in the same way.
Hoseok loves him.
"Hyung," Jimin whispers, a little in awe.
Hoseok smiles at him. "I've spent years convincing myself that you can't be anything else more than my dongsaeng. Every day, you prove how much you've really grown ever since we first met. You're not the cute little kid I crushed on back in our trainee days. You're Park Jimin, the guy I've been helplessly in love with since the first moment."
Jimin watches him as he mulls over his next words, the elder's eyes never leaving his, the look in them never diminishing. He doesn't know if he's breathing right now, but honestly, fuck breathing. Whatever Hoseok is about to say is a thousand times more important than breathing.
"I'm really tired of lying to myself, Jiminnie," Hoseok breathes out in the air between them. "I love you."
Jimin's heart clenches, beating furiously in his chest and he moves in, pressing himself flat against the elder, holding Hoseok closer. "I love you too, hyung."
Hoseok shifts against him then, eyes pinching together when a tiny moan escapes his mouth as the angle suddenly becomes sinful. "Oh, fuck."
Jimin only smiles, rolling his hips up into the elder's. "I love you," he repeats because, after all these years, Jimin has a lot of time he should make up for.
Hoseok's eyes shine in the darkness of his childhood bedroom and he moves in, closing in on Jimin until their lips are a hairsbreadth apart. "I guess I can finally give that blow job I've been meaning to give."
Jimin giggles, feeling weightless as he rests his forehead against the elder's. "Yeah, I guess you can. I love you."
"I love you more," Hoseok murmurs and before Jimin can argue, soft lips are being pressed against his own and he becomes lost in Jung Hoseok.
Bonus Step Six: Date Him
Jimin returns back to the dorms as a new man.
Hoseok held his hand the entire way home, and when they unlock the front door to find Jeongguk sprawled across Namjoon and Seokjin's laps on the couch, a lot of other things are thrown into perspective for Jimin as well. Hoseok giggles as the three on the couch jump guiltily until Jimin waves a hand and tells them they don't mind. Seokjin smiles at them and rises from the couch anyway, pushing the couple into the kitchen where he can fill them with food.
Hoseok takes Jimin's hand as they sit at the counter, waiting patiently for Seokjin to finish and when the elder hands them their food, he raises his brows at their hands, but says nothing, deciding to return to the living room where Jeongguk is whining for the eldest to come back. Seokjin rolls his eyes, pats their hands, and walks out of the kitchen, leaving them alone again.
"You know, it's good to be home," Hoseok says as he lifts his chopsticks with his free hand.
Jimin smiles and leans into his side, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's jaw. "Definitely good to be home."
Hoseok smiles back and Jimin is so far gone for this boy.
Taehyung's plan had actually worked and he squeals loudly when Jimin tells him the news.
#jihope#btssunshinenet#networkjihope#btswritingcafe#kwritersworldnet#kwordsmiths#btsguild#betareadernet#bts#fluff#angst#p:hoseok/jimin#f:tp#m: fic
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There’s really no way to reach me (prince!tom holland x prince!reader)| Chapter 3
a/n: sorry i was having writer’s block….here, have a fluffy chapter!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
“What the fuck was that the other day, Tom?” you ask, blocking his way out of the main room. You want, need, answers. “You don’t just… make out with someone and pretend it’s nothing!” you fume with your arms crossed over your chest. Tom would be lying if he said he didn’t find that hot.
Knowing all too well you aren’t letting him leave until he explains, the curly haired prince sighs, slumping his shoulders. Toying with the buttons of his suit, he walks towards a plush red chair with golden embroidery. “All my life I’ve been with girls.” Tom says as he grips the armrests of the chair, lowering himself. You can almost hear your heart sink. “It was natural for me; a guy and a girl. So, that’s what I thought my future would be; I would marry a princess.” he hums, lacing his fingers together.
You nod, trying to not to show the unbearable sadness you’re feeling. “I understand. I’m sor-”
“I’m not done, love.” Tom cuts you off, smiling softly at your confused face. You are utterly adorable, but yet sexy, in Tom’s eyes. “Like I was saying, I thought I would marry a princess, then all the heterosexual thoughts flew out the bloody window when I met you.” he grins wider when he sees the blush on your cheeks.
The dark eyed prince stands up; his black sleek dress shoes leaving indents in the velvety cream carpet. You blink a few times, mindlessly playing with the end of your gray t-shirt. “W-what does t-that mean? Are you-”
“I’m Y/N-sexual.” Tom smirks, cupping your cheek in his smooth palm. You can’t hold back the small laugh from coming out of your mouth. The cheeky smirk turns into a bright smile at the sound and you swear the entire room lit up. “Yeah, you heard me, love, I’m Y/N-sexual. Not gay, not bisexual, not anything.” he giggles.
Another laugh escapes your lips, making the corners of your eyes crinkle. “That’s, um, very specific, don’t you think?” you chuckle, wrapping your arm around his waist, pulling him against your chest.
He shrugs while his thumb rubs circles on your cheek. “I’m a specific kind of guy.” he mumbles quietly, oak brown eyes flickering to your lips. “After I do my duties, I want to take you out on a proper date, if you’ll let me.” Tom blushes, looking back in your Y/C/E eyes. He could easily get lost in that beautiful color.
Feeling bold, you quickly peck his lips before your entire face, and part of your neck, turns a rosy shade of pink. “I’d like that, Tommy.” you grin, “I’ll be in my room.”
-----------------
When Tom returns to the palace, he quickly changes into a (outfit) navy blue shirt with a pair of cuffed blue jeans and black converse. Smoothing back his curls, he knocks on your door, bouncing on his toes. “Gimme a sec!” you call out, styling your hair in the perfect quiff. You look at your outfit in the mirror (outfit); unbuttoning the top two buttons of your red shirt before opening the door.
Tom’s eyes immediately fly to the small patch of skin exposed; silver necklace dangling dangerously low on your chest. “Wow.” he breathes, grinning at you, “You look handsome.” he takes your hand that you held out for him.
You grin wide, cheeks pink, as you stick your free hand in the back pocket of your black skinny jeans. “So do you.” you hum, following Tom outside after he grabs a picnic basket. “It’s so nice outside.”
The wind blows your loose button down around your torso, causing a few wisps of hair to fly out of place. Tom sneaks a picture of you, smiling at his phone before putting it away. He stops when there’s a perfect patch of green grass, pulling out the blanket and laying it down.
You peek into the light brown basket, humming as you pull out a container and take a bite of sandwich. “Y/N, really?” Tom laughs, sitting down before patting the spot next to him.
Swallowing, you set the basket down as you kneel next to him. “I’m a hungry guy.” you shrug, taking another bite. “It’s what defines me as a man.” you lower your voice, puffing your chest out. Tom bursts out in laughter, making you laugh too. “Shut up. I saw it in Incredibles 2.” you blush.
He grabs another sandwich, laying down on your knees as he eats. Tom grins when he feels your fingers dance through his curls and he sees you watching the clouds, taking bites here and there. You finish your sandwich, leaning down to kiss his lips. What was supposed to be a quick peck, turns into a deep kiss and you can taste the grape jelly he was eating moments before.
Smiles break the kiss. You giggle, resting your forehead on his. “You taste like grape.” you hum, kissing him again.
Tom laughs softly, holding the back of your neck with his free hand. “Oh, do I?” he smirks, putting the rest of his food down and kissing you deeper than before. You move your lips against his; your necklace dangling on his chest while you tilt your head.
After a minute, you pull away, gasping for air with a pair of swollen lips. A grin spreads across your face and you curl your hand in his shirt. “God, you’re intoxicating.” you rasp.
“I can say the same about you, love.” Tom grins.
taglist:
@consistentshitfest @chingonaconcha @art-estrange
#tom holland imagines#tom holland imagine#tom holland x you#tom holland#tom holland x male reader#tom holland x reader
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The Bittersweet Epilogue (Sweet Treats Pt.3)
Fandom: Endless Summer Pairing: Michelle x Quinn, Jake x F!MC Word Count: 2119 Summary: Since the intense end of their La Huerta trip, the gang is still as close as they were two years ago. Their trauma is a weird thing to bond over, but the original Girl Talk™️ group cope with their losses through personal achievements, falling in love, and welcoming their fellow honorary traumatized member.
Author’s Note: Thanks for constantly pushing me to finish this series. It’s been a wild year, and I can’t believe Endless Summer is ending already! I’m so attached to this trilogy that started off as a prompt request, and I managed to birth a new part for each book. I can’t believe we have to bid our farewells to these characters already, but when I think about it, it’s been a solid year and a half. Let’s hope they make appearances in other books!
Previously on Sweet Treats, Now Gimme the Deets... Part 1 // Part 2
The soft rumble of car wheels gliding across flat pavement flowed in one ear and out the other. Driving down empty freeways never failed to soothe her. There’s such an exhilarating feeling that exerts out of her soul when she flies down the road, watching the city and bridges around her zip past her vision faster than she can make sense of it. A sigh escaped her lips as she lost herself in a scenery of purple sunsets and deep green forestry. There could be so many things wrong with the world, but in this moment it seemed like it was perfect. The world was perfect, her life was perfect. Her life was finally perfect for once.
How could she have gotten so lucky, to win an all inclusive trip to La Huerta? Certainly she went through a hellstorm, but without that adventure she never would have met friends for a lifetime, rediscover what she finds important, and finally understand what it’s like to fall head over heels in love for someone.
Speaking of that someone, she snapped out of her trance and glanced down at her hands intertwined with theirs. She gave it a gentle squeeze. “I love you,” She mumbled under her breath just loud enough for them to hear.
“I love you too, Meech.” Quinn raised their hands and pressed hers into a soft kiss. “What made you think of that?”
“I’m going down a path of nostalgia again. So much has happened in the past two years, I’m just really thankful to have you.” Embarrassed, she rolled her eyes. “Not to be super cheesy or anything, but I wouldn’t wish for it to be any other way.”
There used to be a time where Michelle would kill to be in Sean’s arms again, but even though their love for one another would never disperse, the time they spent together seemed to have brought them nowhere. There was no growth - just routine, and although things didn’t end the way either of them wanted it to, upon reflection she was happy it happened.
Quinn’s eyes glistened with adoration. “Me too.” She peered ahead of the road, eyes shifting from the speed limit signs to the streets that were open for exit. “How much longer until we reach the airport?”
“We’re almost there, give or take fifteen minutes. I can see the terminal signs coming up right about now.” Quinn nods in response and let out a sigh.
This car ride has been awfully tense; Michelle thinks it’s because she and her girlfriend had a mutual understanding that this day was going to be rough, if anything. The drive to the airport was the only break they had today to drift off into their own worlds before they had to face the bittersweet reality that was their bi-annual reunion.
It was MC’s wish - that they’d always remember and cherish one another after she merged back with Vaanu – and there was no way they could break that promise. She sacrificed her life to let them fulfill theirs; Michelle has been ever so grateful for that. She recalled the time she told MC her aspirations of taking medical residency in New York.
After she returned to Hartfeld, she worked twice as hard as before to ensure that MC’s sacrifice was worth something to her. Since moving to New York after her acceptance into neurosurgery residency, Michelle has had the thrill of diagnosing patients, and in return she got their gratitude. That was more than enough for her. Finally confessing her crush on Quinn last year and moving in with her was just the cherry on top.
It wasn’t a reunion unless everyone was there – and that’s where Michelle and Quinn were heading to pick Jake up. It was their turn to host the reunion - and as MC’s maid of honor, Michelle only felt it was right to greet him there. “Not gonna lie, I’m excited but also nervous to see Jake again,” she confessed as they pulled up to the pick-up area, “Do you think it’ll be a l’il awkward like the last few times?”
“I doubt it; he’s making progress each time we see him. And,” Quinn added, “Judging by what Rebecca shares on her Snapchat, she seems to be spending a lot of time with him to keep him from going into a lonely, soul-sucking deep end. Remember that video of him tripping over a tree branch when they went hiking last weekend?” Michelle tried to fake a chuckle, yet she couldn’t help but let the nerves get to her. She had one hand gripped to the wheel, and the other still clutching onto Quinn’s tightly when tears began to well up in her eyes.
“I don’t know how he does it, I miss her so much.” She felt Quinn squeeze her hand.
“Me too,” Quinn leaned in so Michelle could rest her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder; she felt her trace small circles on her back. It was comforting to finally let someone in her life besides Sean; she felt peace for the first time, in a long -
A sudden jerk of the back door handle jolted them out of their somber nuzzling, becoming fully aware of their pilot friend welcoming himself into Michelle’s car. He tossed his duffel bag on one end of the car before plopping himself on the other end.
“Alrighty gal pals, as much as I like seeing people being affectionate in public, let’s try to keep this car ride PG, shall we?”
Michelle let out a loud groan, contrary to her girlfriend’s lighthearted giggle. “Welcome to New York, I guess.”
-- -- --
The ride back to the city wasn’t as awks as Michelle assumed it would be. Right away Quinn asked Jake what he’s been up to, and the conversation picked up from there.
“I don’t know, I’m still in between jobs, I guess.” He began, “A part of me wants to get into personal training; stay on the ground for a bit. But Reb insists that I try to do some community college – which is stupid, I hate the idea of going back to school. But, I kinda want to do it, for her sake.” He glanced down as he let out a hearty chuckle. “I’m also considering joining the police academy –“
“Oh my god, yes.” The words stumbled out of Michelle’s mouth before she could even catch herself. “Sorry,” She blushed, “I just think that would make great poetic justice. Plus, you have the right attitude and physique for it.”
The left corner of Jake’s mouth lifts up into a smirk. “Physique, eh?”
“Shut your trap.”
“Gotta say, Meech, awfully bold of you to be checking Jake out while I’m right here.”
“Oh, now you guys are teaming up on me? That’s a first!”
-- -- --
“Say, you girls think anyone’s pregnant this time around?”
“If anything, my money’s on Grace and Aleister!”
“Nuh uh. No way in hell am I letting Grace get pregnant this early into her career.”
-- -- --
“Meech, do you always have your hair in a ponytail nowadays?”
“Yeah, why not? I need to keep it up as a doctor. Plus, I look good regardless.”
Jake scoffed. “Cocky.”
“Cock.”
“Language, guys.”
“Babe, first of all, you’re twenty-three and –”
“Second of all, who cares? There are no kids in the car.”
“That’s what you think.”
Michelle’s eyes bulged out of their sockets before she screamed. “Whoa, what the fuck! Don’t make jokes like that!”
“I can’t even get pregnant. We both have vaginas, Michelle.”
“Fuck you, sperm donors exist.”
“Holy shit, Quinn, this ain’t even my relationship or kid, and that stressed me out for a sec.”
“Oh my god, fine. Cuss to your heart’s desire.”
-- -- --
Serene silence took over the vehicle as Michelle pulled into the parking garage of her apartment and turned her car off. Finally relieved to have completed the road trip, she inhaled, and then exhaled through her glossy lips while leaning back on her driver’s seat.
To her right, was her beautiful girlfriend who drifted off to sleep while leaning against her seat-belt; she could tell from the faint whistle coming from her nose.
And behind her – she glanced up at her driver’s mirror – was one of her best friends’ husband, fiddling with the one dog tag he had left on his chain, since he gifted the other to MC before she transcended away. Catching her looking, he stares back into her reflection with sincerity. “I miss her,” He muttered, bold and firm.
She sighed. “Me too.”
Groggily, Quinn stirred awake, “Yeah,” She whispered.
Besides maintaining the dedication of their friendship, the only other reason the entire gang meets up twice a year was a tribute to MC. The three of them hope that she’s somewhere out in the universe, knowing that they’re still thinking of her.
-- -- --
“Excuse me, waiter! One more round of shots please! One more round on me, guys.”
“For Christ’s sake, Raj. We aren’t college fools anymore. I can’t drink this much.”
“I’ll happily take your shot for you, Big Al.”
Roaring laughter and chitchat filled the leather booth that Quinn rented out at their favourite local bar. Michelle was elated to see them in New York with her. Just like how Quinn constantly made her feel, she realized that it wasn’t the city that made a place home.
…Okay, maybe the city had a bit to do with that. But at the end of the day, it’s the people who surround her that keep her at peace. And right now, that meant her family. Her La Huerta family.
“Helllooooooo, Meech? Meech!” She blinked once, twice, snapping out of her trance to see Craig snapping in front of her face, hair still as spikey as it was in the college years.
“What?”
“Anything new happen in the past six months?” His eyes glistened with anticipation every time he saw her. It was nice to know that he’s still got her back after all these years, despite the cheating allegations the sorority had against her.
“Nope,” She said disappointingly, “Just working and studying. The occasional date with Quinn.”
Her girlfriend shook her head in dismay, ready to counter that statement. “It’s not just any occasional date. She took me to the planetarium a few weekends ago! We watched the evolution of the Milky Way; it was gorgeous!”
“Damn,” Sean beamed at the two, and Michelle beamed back in appreciation. “Name a better date in your early twenties, I’ll wait.” Michelle shook her head and bit her lip to hold a laugh in, getting secondhand embarrassment from the outdated joke her ex just made.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a server approach the booth with a platter of chocolate-coated strawberries. “Enjoy,” She said bleakly.
“Oh, we didn’t order these.”
“These are complementary from the chef.”
Michelle raised an eyebrow at the server. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Y’all are locals, right? Maybe he saw how happy you and your partner are with your friends right now, and wanted to make the night even better.”
“Well, if Michelle won’t eat them, I will,” Zahra began to lean over the table and pluck a strawberry off the platter, and everybody else began to dig in following her.
Michelle side-eyed Quinn - whose lips began to lift into a grin, and then glanced over at Jake – who is very clearly holding his breath in shock. Chocolate coated strawberries? There’s no way this was just a coincidence. Their eyes began to well up with tears again, reminiscing the first time MC, Quinn, and Michelle shared their first moment of sisterhood.
What a bittersweet feeling it is, to believe that MC’s still here with them.
Even though it was as little silly, and she might not even hear anything, Michelle thought it was worth the shot to talk to her. She hated to admit it, but she does that every so often. She liked to believe that MC can hear her, and understood her.
Hey, MC.
If you can hear our thoughts, we miss you so much. Thank you so much for letting us all pursue our dreams. I can never thank you enough. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to fall in love with Quinn; we hope you’re okay.
She turned to see Jake, still gripping onto his dog tag, deep in thought.
Jake really misses you. He’s constantly twiddling with his dog tag, which means that he’s thinking of the other half. His other half. He’s really happy with his sister right now, so you don’t have to worry; your husband’s in good hands. You’ve really changed him, I don’t think he ever wants to fly a plane again without a partner-in-crime.
The most important thing, is that he loves you. He knows you’re his forever soulmate, no matter where you are, or what you are.
She looked over at her gorgeous girlfriend, biting into a strawberry with the brightest grin on her face. And someday, I hope I’ll feel the way he does for you, with Quinn.
Oh, by the way, those strawberries the ‘chef’ sent were amaaaazing.
-- -- --
“Oh!” Grace grabbed onto her boyfriend’s arm. “Aleister and I have some news to share with you all!”
Jake and Michelle immediately exchange an alarmed look with one another. Please don’t be pregnant, please don’t be pregnant.
“Grace and I have been talking about it, and we finally decided that…we’re going to move in together.”
Oh, Jesus Christ, thank the fucking Lord.
#playchoices#endless summer#jake mckenzie#jakexmc#jake x mc#endless summer fanfic#my writing#es#michellexquinn#michelle x quinn#quinn kelly#michelle nguyen
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Blue Exorcist: Spy Game - Yukio in Wonderland (part 2)
More of this insanity, now in glorious technicolor English. Every time you see a name that looks different from usual, it’s because it’s a feminine version.
[Part 1 is here]
Part 2
“We’ve got plans to go hang out with Ryuko and the gals, don’t you remember?”
“Who’s Ryuko?!”
“Koneko is out doing something for the sutra club, but once that’s done we’re gonna have a girls’ day out.”
“Can…can guys even come to a girls’ day out?”
“Seriously, what are you talking about? You’re acting really weird.”
Rin dragged her little “sister,” who was still acting suspiciously, to True Cross Academy’s new girls’ dorms.
“Huh? Yuki-chan-sensei’s been acting weird? Like how?”
The girl whose room they were in, Ren Shima, was talking with a piece of sweet-looking rock candy in her mouth.
She had light pink, curly twin tails and rosy cheeks. Overall she was cute like a porcelain doll…except that she seemed perfectly content lying on a bed that was absolutely covered with dirty laundry, fashion magazines, half-eaten snacks, and home workout gadgets.
The hardest part to accept was her outfit, which consisted of just a T-shirt, a pair of boy’s boxers, and, for some inscrutable reason, fuzzy leg warmers. With fashion sense like that, it was hard to tell if she was hot or cold, or male or female, or what.
“I dunno, all of her’s weird. The whole pitcher.”
“Pretty sure you meant to say ‘picture’ there, Ni…Nee-san.”
“Right there! See? What’s with the ‘Ni-nee-san?’ Why’s it start with ni?”
“That is kinda weird. And you’re not talking like the usual Yuki-chan-sensei…You kinda sound like a boy.”
Ren agreed with Rin’s prompt criticism. Despite her flippant attitude, she was actually pretty sharp.
Annoyed, Yukio fired back, “You’re the weird one here, Shima-ku… I mean Shima-san.”
“Huh? Why’s that?”
“There’s so much I want to say, but for now, just stop dressing like you were robbed by bandits on the way here.”
“Hahaha, you really are acting weird.” Ren snickered. “Bandits? Seriously? That’s funny.”
“Hey, Ren. Knock it off,” came a voice scolding her friend. “Sensei’s been busy with all sorts of stuff lately. She’s probably just tired.”
The concerned voice belonged to Ryuko Suguro.
She was tall, slender, and attractive, with the same bold two-tone hair as the male version, and for some reason she was wearing a maroon tracksuit with “Class 3B – Suguro” written on the front. There was also some embroidering that looked like the name of a middle school, so maybe it was an old tracksuit that she was wearing around the dorm.
She had a few rubber bands on her wrist, which gave her a certain down-to-earth quality…okay, it mostly made her look like a middle-aged woman.
“You should get a little more rest.”
“Thank you, Suguro…san. By the way, if it’s not too much of a bother, I’d like to ask…Why are you wearing a middle school tracksuit?”
Yukio was expecting an answer like “all my other clothes are still in the wash,” but Ryuko nonchalantly replied:
“Oh, this? Well, it still fits fine and it’d be a waste to get rid of it, obviously. Plus it’s comfortable.”
“It’s not like anyone’s gonna see it, right? Comfort first,” Ren agreed, yawning lazily. “You know Ren-chan can go a week without a shower if she’s not meeting any boys.”
“Okay, a week is way too long,” Ryuko scolded.
Obviously. Yukio agreed wholeheartedly in his mind.
“Though I’m totally fine going a couple days without washing my hair.”
Huh? Yukio glanced over at Ryuko, but she seemed completely calm. What’s she saying?
Weren’t girls supposed to be the ones who knew all about different brands of shampoo, and were late to things because they were doing their hair in the morning? Weren’t they supposed to exchange cute candy-like bath bombs as gifts, and take hot baths for their health, and maybe even try making handmade soaps sometimes?
Was that all just an illusion in the minds of men? Just a dream?
Is this the reality? Is…Is Shiemi-san like this too?
Yukio was stunned. His sister asked, “What’s wrong, Yukiko? You’re making a really weird face.” She laughed innocently. “Hahaha, you look ugly like that.”
Yukio wasn’t even at liberty to respond to her thoughtless comment. He tried to pull himself together.
Calm down. These guys…well, these girls? They were boys originally. They don’t count! That has to be it!
Surely normal girls showered and washed their hair every day, and sometimes went all-out doing their hair in the morning, and wore cute clothes even around the house, and kept their rooms clean.
Surely they weren’t like this, hanging out in dirty rooms wearing strange outfits, having lively conversations about gross topics. No way.
As Yukio was repeating that to himself, his sister said,
“Man, it’s hot in here though.”
She set up camp in front of the old electric fan, and started flapping her skirt up and down.
“Ah, nice and cool. I think I’m coming back to life.”
Shocked, Yukio grabbed her hand to make her stop.
“Don’t you have any shame?!”
“What’s gotten into you, Yukiko? You’re overreacting. It’s fine, I’ve got shorts on underneath. Everyone does this kind of thing at all-girls schools and stuff.”
“That’s not the problem!” Yukio yelled at his sister, another of his dreams about girls shattered. Just then—
“Sorry I’m late,” said a husky voice as the door opened. “It went on longer zan I sought it would.”
“Oh, Koneko, you finally made it.”
Miwa-kun?
The other inhabitant of the room, Koneko Miwa, had returned.
Yukio instantly thought of what Konekomaru had looked like dressed as a girl—but what appeared was…
A drop-dead gorgeous woman with a tall, well-proportioned, glamorous body like a model’s, and beautiful blonde hair that went down to her waist. She could have been a Hollywood actress.
“Wh-Who are you?!”
“I’m Koneko Miwa…Is somesing wrong, Yukiko-sensei?” Koneko asked in a slight accent, her face clouded with confusion.
Well, I sure didn’t expect this…
Is she…half-foreign?
The only thing about her that seemed like Konekomaru was the glasses.
Yukio fell to his knees on the floor.
Just what is going on here?
What could have happened to him and everyone else?
As Yukio was nursing a headache, his sister cheerfully said:
“Welp, since Koneko’s back, should we get going?”
And in the next instant—
“Hold on a sec!” “Uhh…Ten minutes. Just give me ten minutes.”
Ryuko and Ren’s voices overlapped.
Before they even got a response, they were already running around trying to get ready.
Why didn’t they do this in all the time they had before? Why were they just hanging around chatting when they weren’t even ready to leave?
Yukio stared at them in disbelief. Pretty soon, ten minutes were gone in a flurry of whining about lost combs and lost socks and stains on a favorite bag. And then…
“Five more minutes.” “Gimme ten minutes. Ten minutes.” “Just five minutes.” “Six minutes!” “I just need four minutes!” “Three minutes!”
…time kept getting added on endlessly.
What is this? Why didn’t they just say how much time they really needed from the start? Why announce it bit by bit? I can understand this coming from Shima-kun, but what happened to the serious, detail-oriented, order-loving Suguro-kun?
Yukio was getting annoyed, but his sister and Koneko next to him seemed like they were used to this. They didn’t seem especially bothered, and didn’t try to hurry things up.
“Hey, Koneko, did you know about the Happy Buffoon over at True Cross Sweets House?”
“I do! But not ‘Buffoon.’ ‘Buffet.’ True Cross Sweets House even ’as pancakes on zeir buffet menu. It’s so popular!”
“Sure is. So I was thinking, how about we go today after we’re done shopping?”
“Oh! Zat would be wonderful!”
“Right? Right? They’ve got a chocolate fountain and everything, you know? I’ve gotta try that with some marshmallows.”
“Tee hee hee. Zat sounds like fun.”
They just kept up the excited girl talk (?).
In the end, they were only able to leave after waiting on Ryuko and Ren for an hour and a half…
[Part 3]
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Masseys annoying assumptions. Part 391.
In the same letter in which John chastises Martha for not writing...Martha 🤔he also responds to his sisters reports on marriages taken place in Carolina.
"I wish them all much happiness in their Sacred Union. Do you think about it sometimes, my Sister?"
Massey....ugh...writes, "Johns question implied that he did think about it."
Hold my 🍹 a sec...couple things...
1. Maybe he's actually just having a conversation with his little sister about where she is on the issue of marriage at the moment. She's 15 after all🙄
2. He was 20 and expected to marry. They all were as gross as it is to at least me in 2017.
3. I'm not remotely convinced John would speak to his sister about his thoughts on marriage. I kinda think it was something he dreaded. An obligation.
Ok gimme back my 🍹 I'm not done with that...
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Baby Facetiming (Part 4 of Sugar Baby)
Request/s:
Anonymous said: MORE SUGAR BABY JOHN PLEASEEE??? I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE HIM AND GOSH HES SO ADORABLE AND YOURE SUCH A GREAT WRITER I CANNOT
Anonymous said: sINCE YOU DO SMUT CAN U DO ANOTHER JOHN SUGAR BABY ONE WITH SMUT
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: i really never thought i would write 4 parts like this cause i haven’t really liked any of em omg i never planned this far ahead, had i known i would be asked to continue it i would’ve done it sooo much nicer and more organized from the start im so sorry (imma still do it tho cause im a warrior and i aint giving up, but sorry if it’s too short & also thank you 1st anon i wasn’t super confident about how I was doing his character portrayal i appreciate u)
Part 1 x
Part 2 x
Part 3 x
You were rudely woken up at 3 A.M, after sleeping for just an hour. Your phone rang mercilessly on the marble table at the other side of the room. Groaning, you stood up and walk over to it.
“Ms. L/N speaking. How may I help you?” you said, trying your best to sound like you hadn’t been woken up.
“Miss, there’s been a problem at the chain in California. They need you down there as fast as you can.” Burr was on the other line. You rubbed your temple in frustration.
“Can’t they handle it themselves?”
“Apparently not.” Burr sounded apologetic. You sighed.
“Fine. I’ll take the jet in 20 minutes.” You muttered, ending the call. You headed to the bathroom to look at yourself through the mirror. Your hair was a mess and you could see part of the makeup that you hadn’t washed off. Taking a suitcase out of the closet of the bathroom, you tried your best to tip toe your way to the walk-in so you wouldn’t wake John up.
You stuffed in two random dresses, just in case something happened, and changed to a more comfortable dress. Styling your hair up again, you walked back to the bedroom.
John was stirring, and you prayed to God that he wouldn’t wake up. He just turned to his side and continued sleeping. You put on a pair of small heels and walked out the door. Your walk downstairs and to the streets was quiet, with mostly you thinking about numbers and things about the hotel in general. You took a cab to the private airport nearby and payed him in cash.
You were quiet as you walked over to the aircraft, saluting all the crew that were waiting for you. You walked up the staircase, and just sat back in the leather seats.
You waited until you were in the air to check your phone again. It was 4:30 now, you had no missed calls nor texts. You decided it was way too early to call anyone, so you just laid back and began to doze off before fully sleeping.
Two hours later, you were woken up once again from the buzzing of your phone.
“Ms. L/N.” Your voice was much more slurred and heavy with sleep than before.
“Yes, ma’am. Hello.” A shy voice on the other line said, and you sat up straighter. A smile crept into your lips.
“Hello, baby. How did you sleep?” You said, rubbing your eyes roughly with your hands.
“I slept well. Kinda bummed that you weren’t here.” He said and yawned.
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want to wake you just because I was leaving. I may not be back for a couple of days, too.” You said, crossing your legs and laying back down.
“O-Oh, really?” He said, his voice a mixture of surprise and sadness.
“Yeah. You can do whatever you want during that time, since I won’t be there. I also left my folder in the marble table in the corner of the room, if you get bored and feel like reading it.” You said, voice low.
“I’ll make sure to look through it, ma’am.” He said. There was ruffling on the other line which you guessed was him getting out of bed.
“Can I facetime you? I want to see you.” You said, rummaging through your purse to look for your earphones.
“Sure, gimme a sec.” he said. The call ended, but it was quickly replaced with a facetime call. You answered, and his face showed up on your phone.
“Hi, baby.” You smiled, enjoying how flustered he got.
“Hey.” His smile was big and child-like. You loved it.
“What are you doing now?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation flowing.
“I was gonna take a shower, ma’am.” He responded simply.
“Go do it. Take your phone with you.” You said, looking back at the small icon of yourself. You could do with some sleep.
You heard a noise of surprise, and smiled to yourself. He set the phone down in the sink where you could see his entire torso down to midthigh. He started to undress, his face flushed.
“Do it slower, baby.”
He did as he was told, and a minute later he was naked. You stayed quiet for a minute, admiring his tone body.
“Were you planning on masturbating, John?” You asked, hand rubbing yourself slightly over your underwear.
“Y-Yes, ma’am.”
“Do it.”
He didn’t hesitate to wrap his hand around his shaft, taking in a deep breath. You bit your lip at the thought of what was happening. Your hand sped up only slightly. His hand started pumping up and down his length slowly, low moans escaping his mouth.
You watched his hand intently. You wished you were there with him to take him in your mouth and swallow him, but you could settle for this at the moment. You saw his hand started going faster.
“Stop. Do it slowly. I don’t want you to cum yet.”
The sound he emitted gave you a shot of pride through your body.
“Ma’am, I-” He started, whine evident in his voice.
“Don’t question me, John Laurens.” You said firmly. His full name seemed to give an effect as his hand slow down. His head fell back in desperate moans.
“What a good boy you are. If you’re good, you’ll get a special reward when I get back.” You said, your praise making him whine again.
“I’ll be good, ma’am. For you.” His voice was low again, quick breaths escaping his lips. He was looking directly at the camera now, and you couldn’t help but lick your lips.
“Oh, baby, I wish I was there with you. I would love to kiss from your lips down your toned chest all the way to that delicious cock of yours.” You said in a voice as innocent as you can muster. John groaned and put his hand on the edge of the sink to lean into it. “I would suck you off until you were begging me to let you cum.”
His knuckles had turned white where they gripped the edge of the sink. He was biting his lip as to not moan too loud, which was kind of useless because you would bet money that people walking down the hall could hear how loud he was being.
“I bet you’re close to cumming, huh?” You said, he nodded frantically. “I bet you’re dying for release.”
“Y-Yes, ma’am.” You could tell that he was close from his expression. Open mouth, closed eyes and taking in small breaths.
“I want to see you cum, baby. Look into the camera and cum for mommy.” As soon as you said this, he looked up and his body physically shook. He let out a few low groans as he continued to pump his length, now with a faster pace, but you didn’t mind.
When he finished, he rested his hand on the fold of his arm as he regained his breath.
“I’ll call you later in the day, okay, baby?” You asked, letting your hair down.
John just hummed in acknowledgement and smiled to the camera. “Thank you, miss.”
#hamilton#hamilton musical#hamilton an american musical#john laurens#sugarbaby!john laurens#john laurens x reader#john laurens imagine#anthony ramos#aaron burr#leslie odom jr#requests are open#requests are welcome#request#hamilton imagine#hamiltrash#hamtrash#hamilton trash
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The Matchmakers - Part 3
Part 1 Part 2
A drabble series I’m working on with @setthestarsxnfire, hope you enjoy! This one became longer than I expected so there’s more under the cut.
Zen was on the move. Seven watched the little blinking dot slide across the digital map of the city on his screen. Finding a phone’s GPS signal was absolute child’s play for a God hacker like him. If only people were as easy as computers. The dot got closer and closer to C&R’s headquarters and there was no doubt on Seven’s mind that he was going to confront Jumin about the roses. Oh sure, he could let it all play out by itself – but there was a very high chance the two of them would only trade insults and Zen would leave shortly after. Unacceptable! If there was a time to interfere, it would be now. He had an idea, a brilliant idea if he said so himself, but that would require Jumin to move as well. It could be done. But he had to be sneaky about it. So he grabbed his phone and called the man that Jumin easily trusted. “Seven?” “Hey V! You picked up fast!” “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” “I dunno, maybe you- wait, don’t distract me! Listen, I need you to call Jumin so he leaves his office. It’s for the cause!” “Oh. What should I say?” “I don’t know, think of something but make sure it seems urgent! I know you can do it!” After receiving V’s bashful confirmation, Seven hung up and started to type away furiously on his keyboard. The electronic interface of C&R’s elevators appeared before him in pure code next to him C&R’s live security camera footage, giving him a wicked smile. This was going to be great. *** Jumin sighed at the sheet of paper in front of him. The day he would get a report without a spelling mistake in it would be the day hell froze over. Jumin considered asking the R&D department to rewrite the whole thing when his phone rang. The screen displayed the name of his best friend. Strange, it wasn’t like him to call during work hours. “Hello Jihyun. Why are you calling? Do you need anything?” “Jumin, hello. Ehm, yes, I do. I need you to leave the office. It’s important.” Jumin raised an eyebrow. “What’s so important that I have to leave?” “Ah, well…” He paused and Jumin frowned. He was just about to restate his question when V continued. “I just learned Seven is planning to kidnap Elizabeth.” He shot up from his chair so fast it fell backwards on the floor with a loud thud. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?!” V’s mumbled apology didn’t register in his mind as he ran out of his office, passing Assistant Kang who looked confused. Jumin pressed the button going up and considered running up the stairs to his penthouse, when the elevator arrived with a ding. He rushed inside and tapped the highest level, staring at the slowly closing doors in frustration. Except the elevator went down instead of up.
Shit! He patted his pockets, looking for his phone. No no no it was still on his desk! In pure agony, he watched the digital number slide all the way to ground level, every second ticking by feeling like Elizabeth was in more danger. The door dinged open and to his surprise, Zen was there. The actor walked in on auto-pilot, only registering Jumin there until he stood inside already. “Zen? Why are you here?” “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
“I work here.” “I meant, out of your office!” The doors started to close again. “Wait, hold the door!” Jumin shouted, rushing forward and pushing Zen out of the way but to no avail. With the doors fully closed, he slammed his hand on the ‘open doors’ button repeatedly, but nothing happened. “Jumin, what’s wrong?” Zen asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Just as Jumin wanted to reply, the elevator halted abruptly, nearly knocking them both off balance. They looked in horror at the counter, showing they were stuck between two floors. He pressed the emergency button next to the door which prompted a robot voice to tell them to wait patiently. This wasn’t happening! Zen must have a phone. In his frenzy, Jumin lunged at him, opening every pocket trying to find it. “Dude, w-w-what are you doing?!” His high-pitched voice would normally amuse Jumin to no end, but this was an emergency. He ignored Zen’s squawks and protests as he felt around. For a second he questioned if he should continue but Elizabeth needed him. When he lowered the jacket zipper, Zen shrieked and grabbed his arms, pushing him away. Jumin’s shoes skidded on the marble floor as he pushed back, intent on finding that phone. With great effort, he patted every area of the actor’s upper body, trying not to think of how muscular he felt. Finally he found the item in question in his inside pocket, fishing it out. Thank goodness Zen didn’t have the sensibility to put on a safety lock. He typed a message in the RFA chat and was able to hit send before a pair of arms wrapped around him, startling him for a second until he realized Zen was trying to take his phone back.
Why did that make him feel disappointed? He tried to type another message only to be constantly denied by an extremely irritated Zen.
ZEN: Seven, don’t you dare touch Elizabeth the 3rd!!
*** Yoosung★: Shoot, can Zen see us? Saeran: No, we should still be in Private Mode MC: ??? Why is Zen talking about Elizabeth? And Seven? Jaehee Kang: I just watched Mr. Han run into the elevator. Jaehee Kang: Seven, what are you doing? 707: Using my powers for good and love! 707: They’re both in the elevator thanks to me 707: Jumin is using Zen’s phone Yoosung★: You can see them? MC: omgomg share! 707: k~ gimme a sec to link the CCTV to the app 707: But I don’t know how the lovely Elly is involved in all this V: I told him you were going to take Elizabeth. V: Sorry, I didn’t know what else to say. 707: Brilliant~! That’s totally something I would do~~ MC: Oh god V, Jumin is going to call the entire police force on Seven Saeran: And that’s a bad thing? Jaehee Kang: *sigh* I’ll take care of it.
***
Multiple times Zen tried to grab his smartphone, only to have Jumin dodge him every time. It was already bad enough that Trust Fund pretty much fondled him, now he had to fight him just to get his own phone back! When Jumin’s hands avoided him for the third time, he had enough; he tackled Jumin and both of them fell on the floor with a noisy thud. Before he could question his sanity when he felt the warm body underneath him, Jumin violently tried to wrestle out of his grip.
His phone rang and Jumin answered, as if his hand wasn’t currently planted in Zen’s face.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Han.” Jaehee’s voice rang through the speaker. “I’ve managed to stop Seven from reaching Elizabeth and I’ve asked IT to get the elevator working soon.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Jumin looked visibly relieved. He ended the call and held up the phone, which Zen eagerly accepted. All this trouble for that damn cat of his. His nose started to itch on reflex.
“Seriously, if you had just asked me for my phone I would have given it to you.” Not that he gave a crap about Jumin or his furball of course, but he wasn’t so cold that he wouldn’t help out.
“Sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.” Hah. Zen was going to remember that when Jumin pretended he was super logical and rational compared to him.
Only when his phone was safely deposited in his pocket did they realize their incredibly, incredibly unusual position. He was straddling Jumin’s legs and Jumin’s hand had lowered to hold his shoulder. He jumped away as Jumin scooted backwards, both of them red as tomatoes.
Was it him or did the temperature in the room increase? He crossed his arms defensively, feeling incredibly awkward, forcing his gaze on the doors, on the ceiling, on anything except Jumin. Too bad he could still see Jumin as he stood up, his shirt and tie loosened enough that they exposed tiny areas of pale smooth skin. When Jumin started to fix himself and looked at him, Zen realized he had been staring and looked away.
Damn it, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Yes, he had come here to talk to Jumin, to drag an explanation out of him. But this was just too close… He shifted his stance, remembering the note that came with the roses. Jumin glanced at him again before pretending to be actively interested in his sleeve.
Wasn’t it enough to congratulate him in chat? That bloody jerk just had to make things more awkward.
“The flowers were completely unnecessary, just so you know.” Zen sneered, making Jumin frown in confusion.
“What flowers?”
“What flo- Your flowers! The ones you sent me!” Now Jumin’s eyes were on him.
“I didn’t send you any flowers.”
“Yes, you did! That’s the whole reason I came here!”
Jumin raised his eyebrows. “You traveled all the way to my office just to talk to me about flowers?”
“Wh- Di- You weren’t responding in chat, that’s why!!”
“You could have called me.”
“I would have had I known you would harass me like that, you pervert!”
Jumin’s cheeks reddened even more. “It was an emergency. You were the one who threw me on the floor and put yourself on top of me after!”
The conversation grew more awkward with every word and Zen felt flustered to hell and back. Never mind, Zen didn’t want to talk about the roses anymore. All he wanted was for the floor to open up so he could hide his embarrassment.
The heavens must have heard his prayers, as the elevator activated once more and brought them down to ground level. The moment the doors opened, Zen sprinted out, not caring that he nearly bowled over a business lady on his way out.
***
707: Aww, looks like C&R’s IT staff fixed my jam
Jaehee Kang: I could only stall them for so long.
MC: Heh, Jumin looks so confused right now
Yoosung★: For a moment I thought they were going to make out on the floor
707: If only ;.; 707: We just needed more time!
Jaehee Kang: I don't think that would have helped since they started arguing again.
Saeran: We need to start coming up with better ideas, this obviously isn’t working
V: Don’t worry, I’m sure we can think of something.
MC: That’s the spirit!
#the matchmakers#juminzen#jumin x zen#juzen#zumin#zenmin#zenjumin#mystic messenger#fanfiction#drabble#drabble series
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Diolain - part 4: The State of play
I’m sure I’ve used that title before... ANYWAY. I have - possibly foolishly - signed up for NaNoWriMo again this year, so while that will hopefully start up my writing better, it means I will be very much in Not Allowed To Edit mode for a month. So allowed myself a final fling with editing and polished up chapter 4 of this.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Wattpad.
Title: The State of play Setting: The State history: end- ‘Golden Age’ (about 40 years ago). Warnings: Blood. Summary: The team learn a bit more about what is going on, and find another familiar face. Characters: Samúiel Daly; Fergal Callaghan; Najwa Farouk. Words: 2975
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Fergal seemed dazed, hardly responding as Samie hauled him back upright and made an attempt to wipe away some of the gory splatter. He recruited his hat to help, since there wasn't much point now in even trying to disguise the curving ridges of scale that had run a new geography down his skull. Even his jaw was deeper, longer, giving him the underbite from hell, and layers of faintly-oval scales had spilled out of his split sleeves and along his wrists, refracting dully as he ran an assessing hand across Fergal’s shoulders, feeling the shiver set in there.
“Still with me, Ferg?” he asked, quietly, and after a few long breaths he got a shaking nod in reply.
“Still with you, Sam.” Fergal reached up to fold his fingers down over the contact. Slim, dark, human digits, atop ones now like knotted bananas that ended in blunt claws.
The claws were always a bit of a pain, if Samie were honest. He still had fingertips - or at least soft, gripping pads set underneath each one - but actually touching anything without raking the claws across it first was a task. It was kind of like wearing gloves made of your own living fingernails (a description that tended to make folk stop askin’ about it).
But the emphasis now wasn't just about the demon through him. It was more… uncomfortable. Samie had been in situations that had gone south before; hell, had been on assignments that started there and just got worse, but that was just it. What he did. The sort of life he’d been set for before his balls had dropped. Fergal wasn't the kind of person you dragged up off the floor, spackled bloody with a dead man’s gore. He was a talker; highborn without either the arrogance of family or the chipped shoulder common to unGated. He did words, and smiling, and people liked him. He shouldn't fucking be here. Probably none of them should, but this was more’n that.
Samie was angry, so the Scout was angry too. She didn’t know Ferg, but the feel of - the importance of - kin was always there within the sense of her. Whether it was just that “synaesthetic transference” or a deeper empathy (the kind of distinction that had gotten Samie sternly Talked To in his younger days, before he’d learned to keep those musing to himself), it didn't matter.
They were getting him out.
Najwa’s guards were visibly keeping their distance as Samie herded Fergal into his shadow once again. Only Najwa herself was still looking directly at him, her head tilted slightly to one side.
“So, it is true.” She sounded more intrigued than worried. “The monster-kings of a cursed country.”
“Never the Rig, love,” Samie replied, only half paying attention as he tried to get his bearings against his mental map of this place. “Even Abhain ain’t crownin’ a demon.”
Not that a couple hadn’t tried. The Cineál’s history was… interesting, when no one was forcing you to read it. What it boiled down to, when you went to the core, was that you just couldn't be the boss and a Gate. Didn't work. Wouldn’t fly. Honestly, Samie couldn’t see why anyone would want the other option, even if there were any kinda choice to it. Whole lot of politics and shades-of-bullshit.
Najwa watched him for another heartbeat then turned back to the State bodies, business-like again. One of her guards had pulled the corpses’ helmets off, rapidly searching, and reached up to hand her something. Some muttered conversation was exchanged before she pushed it through the fabric of her helm, at ear-height. Radio link, maybe? The other guard did the same.
“We go now,” she announced, and again the group fell into their smooth formation. Samie seemed to have been left with both Ambassadors; Fergal sticking close, and the golden woman moving to lean heavily against his other side as they moved.
The room let out into the kind of dull corridor that said “maintenance” in several languages of functionally-cheap decor. The only additions to the walls, besides printouts of fire safety instructions, were a selection of stencilled designs in black. A ring of more rings interlocked, with ‘Unity’ printed in joyless font in the centre; angular flames below clasped hands; and other designs Samie couldn’t quite work out more than to decide he didn’t like them. There was some weird shit on the walls back home, in places - particularly on old buildings, slathered in deliberately-dramatic renderings of hybrid forms, designed by fevered imaginations of people who had mistaken Gatehood for God-touched and gotten way too involved in the idea - but that was a familiar kind of odd. Plus it was all relic, abandoned delusion that no-one sensible believed in anymore. This stuff was fresh.
He didn’t like it at all.
The distant sounds of fighting became considerably less distant as they made their way further through the building’s back-room veins. How many international groups were here, anyway? Samie hadn’t been keeping track, since knowing how many flags to recognise had seemed to be a Fergal-problem. Ambassadors, immediate entourage, guards, domestic staff… there’d certainly be a damn sight more than had been at that party. What were these eyeballed-up bastards planning to do - kill everyone?
“Ain’t this all gonna look a bit feckin’ suspicious?” he muttered, as they crept across a large, utterly-empty kitchen. “Invite a whole lot of folks over, then knock them all off at once? What’re they after? Thinkin’ no one’s gonna notice?”
“There’s… something strange going on alright,” Fergal replied, his voice lowered. “I mean, getting Intel out of here is a task, sure, but all indicators were that the regime was stabilising.” He wiped a hand down his face again, distractedly, and shivered. “Why else hold this? They’re not grand hosts but I sure as shite wouldn’t have pushed for attending if - if I’d thought - ” he trailed off, staring down at the smears of still-drying scarlet on the back of his hand. Little muscles in his throat twitched, his lips tightening unevenly.
“...I shouldn’t’ve - should’ve seen - ”
The purging sigil’s earlier evacuations meant the heave that cut his words this time was dry, little more than spit and acid, half-choked as Fergal tried to silence himself as he retched. Samie laid one huge hand on his brother’s shoulder, fingers splayed enough to keep the claws out of play, and squeezed awkwardly with his palm.
“Hey now,” he said, a little gruffly. “None ‘o that searchin’ about for blame in your head. They’re a bunch of fucking loony bastards. End of. And whatever they were thinkin’ of? Well, now they’ve got Isuanai in the walls, this lot of scary ladies - ” he jerked a free thumb towards the golden guards, since he was fairly sure now that they were tagging along with a lioness situation “ - going all spec-ops on their arses, as well as our shenanigans. I’ll be bettin’ we are royally fucking up the plan.”
“You’d know,” Fergal muttered as he wiped his mouth, following with a wisp of a smile, and Samie rolled his eyes.
“If you’re so-delicately alluding t’your twenty-seventh, I’ll point out again that it’s real far from my fault that Murray can’t hold his soma.” He stopped, frowning. “...okay, so the pond bit was my idea, but - ”
“Be quiet,” Najwa hissed over her shoulder, exuding a glare even through the fabric. Samie stuck out his tongue. It wasn’t exactly a mature response, but right now he didn’t care.
“Craic in survival situations is - ”
“Speak. Less.”
He might have thought of a wittier comeback, given time, but the rattle of gunfire from up ahead took everyone’s attention. There was shouting, too, and Samie felt Fergal press in closer behind him, the golden Ambassador tightening her grip on his arm, and -
- and -
There’s something off about this.
Samie’s extended senses prickled and he sought around in the enhanced input, searching for the oddity. Gunfire in the current state of chaos wasn’t exactly strange. The sound had a replying pattern - one set of shots and another in retort - and he frowned, carefully swinging the gold lady around into Fergal’s surprised arms.
“Gimme a sec,” he said, and started off down the corridor again at a soft jog. The backstairs-space curved here, a discreet doorway set ajar into the public area beyond, and Samie caught a glimpse of movement through the crack - a black-clad shape shifting position, crouching down behind the cover provided by the edge of a wide staircase. He remembered that staircase, guiding Fergal’s presumed-tipsy footsteps up boring-patterned plush. Now it was a shooting gallery.
He could smell blood, and the acrid edge of State gunsmoke. The figure behind the door hadn’t noticed him, but that black-sheen helmet was familiar enough that the remaining hair on Samie’s neck rose. He didn't much like creepin’ up on a guy unannounced, particularly as he doubted the trooper was going to be any older than the youths back there, but he wasn’t going to give up surprise out of plain pride.
The Stateboy tensed, bobbing up to fire again, and this time no answering gunshots followed. There was a cry of alarm - and Samie’s eyes widened as he realised that he knew that reedy voice; cut short with pain and fear, but familiar nonetheless.
“I beg you - this is madness - you must -!”
...the actual fuck is goin’ on here?
The Stateboy clearly hadn’t been expecting any more resistance, as he fair-swaggered forwards with his weapon swinging widely. He certainly hadn’t been expecting anyone to appear from behind him, and there was no way in hell he would have thought to see anything like Samie’s scale-strewn hulk baring down. The hybrid fist slammed into his helmet with shattering force, plastic bursting open like crushed eggshell and the dark figure went down hard, skidding bonelessly as he hit the tile.
Samie slowly lowered his arm, looking down the length of it at the second figure, slumped against the wall behind a makeshift barricade of tables. There were other bodies, strewn here and there, all peppered with bloody punctures, but this was the only one still breathing. And staring at Samie, goggle-eyed, as if the devil himself was tryin’ to crawl up his arse.
“How’s shit, Crawford?” Samie broke out a humourless, extremely toothy smile. “Y’look fuckin’ terrible.”
Crawfig’s mouth flapped uselessly beneath his rodent face, his Adam's apple bouncing like a ball on elastic. It took him a few moments to manage words - and by then, Samie had already confirmed his own suspicion. The body next to Crawdie - the one with a hole in their chest so fresh that the blood was still running, brightly crimson - was State too. The firefight had sounded odd because the fucking guns were the same.
Hells’ fuckin’ teeth; they’re even shootin’ each other now.
“Y-you... this - th-this isn't…” Crawford’s voice was shaky, but it was a lot more coherent than Samie might have expected, given how much of the wine he’d downed. Then again there were yellowish stains down the front of his suit and he smelled of vomit beneath the fear. Maybe the knockout didn’t kick in if the damn stuff hadn’t touched the sides coming back up, either.
“Now - ” Samie shoved the remains of the barricade aside, wood splintering around his fingerclaws. “I know y’like to chat on, but it has been a fuck of an evening, and I am runnin’ very low on patience.” He crouched down beside the skinny man - who was propped up against the fallen shape of some ornamental black vase - and leaned in further. Crawboy flinched at the proximity, but to his credit he didn’t look away.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?”
“Betrayal.” It was a tight word, halted in pain, and Samie realised as he spoke that Crawford had one hand clasped tightly against his ribs, with a darker kind of stain creeping around the edges of his fingers. Crawford’s gaze flicked towards the crumpled figure at his side. He licked his cracked lips and squeezed his eyes closed as he continued.
“There - have always been - factions. Dis-disagreements in the - p-p-plan - but this… this…” His other hand jerked up, grasping at something around his neck, and pulled a small metal shape out from its shrouding fabric. Samie found himself staring at a small version of the same eye-symbol that the boy had had tattooed on his face, this one threaded on a length of polished chain. Crawford clutched at it, white-knuckle tight, and his lip trembled.
“I am loyal. I - I have always been - a Party man.”
“The life an’ soul, I’d say,” Samie muttered, apparently unheard, as Crawford opened his eyes again, squinting towards the broken figures beyond Samie’s bulk.
“They called - us traitors. Courting corruption, with - aberrants! As if we - as if I - ” Crawford stopped, suddenly focusing on Samie’s hybrid features, and a wide, mad smile broke onto his own face. It didn’t look healthy, in all honestly.
“Perhaps... I did not do my - homework on you after all, Abhain.”
“I’m an advanced subject.” Samie carefully reached out, brushing as gently as he could against Crawford’s bloody hand. “Let’s have a look at’cha.”
He didn’t like the snivelly Stateboy, but he was talking, and seemed to be on the bad side of the armoured gobshites who’d been shooting at them. Although he didn't miss the shudder as he eased Crawford’s fingers aside, peeling back wet fabric with careful clawtips. The wound beneath was dark, and raw, an ugly gouge that hadn't breached the muscle. It looked painful, sure, and bloody, but on Samie’s judgement it wasn’t a lethal hit.
“Startin’ to wonder if your military delinquents can see outa them helmets,” he said, pushing Crawdidle’s hand back into place. “I’m pretty much the proverbial barnside, and I’ve barely been shot at all.”
Crawford looked at him, a whirl of strange expressions riding his features, all too fast to stick.
“When they see you - Abhain - I can promise that they will.”
“Still got that silver tongue in his head, has he?” Fergal’s voice broke the weird moment and Samie realised he had company again a second before Najwa appeared from the other side of the smashed vase. She barely looked at Crawford, but flicked a gesture between the two sets of dead Stateys.
“You have seen?”
“Yeah. Guess we hope they're too busy shooting at eachother t’bother with us?”
It sounded unlikely, even as he said it, and Najwa didn't respond. Instead she hoisted herself up onto the lip of the large, artistically-barred window that ran in sections around the room edge, and peered out. There was a courtyard outside, if memory served - all wide paths in polished concrete and some kinda ugly focal art in the centre - and the path that led back to the central events-building, or whatever it was. The railway they’d arrived by was on the other side of that, and Samie was a lot less sure where Najwa’s sewer entrance was.
One of the other gold guards had begun once again unmasking the dead State troops and searching for earpieces; she came to the one nearest to Samie, fiddled for a bit, then looked up and said something sharply. At Najwa’s equally-incomprehsible reply, the guard snapped her fingers at Samie until she got his attention, then tossed a small shape at him. Which he entirely and unsurprisingly failed to catch.
Fergal retrieved the little device and raised an eyebrow at Samie.
“You want it?”
“Not sure it’d stay in right now - ears keep moving,” Samie grunted, glancing over to where Najwa had slid back down and was already in another low, animated conversation. Fergal shrugged as he pushed the earpiece into place and tilted his head, listening.
“There’s chatter but it's all code, I don't - ow!” he cut off abruptly, clutching at his ear as there was a burst of witchlight and Samie heard the volume spike dramatically.
“- finally one of you has an half-decent signature!”
“Loud.” Fergal yelped, cringing as he yanked the earpiece out again, holding it away from himself. The tiny radio gave a tinny sigh.
“Oh pardon; oh yes, because I do not have a thousand other worries over your delicate ears. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to hack together a scrying circuit from this backwards-ass system? No? No, you do not, and I - ”
“Merci, Isuanai.” Fergal’s composure settled again. “This is Fergal Callaghan, Abha- ”
“Yes. I know,” the voice continued irritably. “Who else would you be? Every other idiot in this country dégénéré is hardly above background. You finally connect yourself and you light up like a firework. How many are you? I am trying to get an eye, but the connards have killed their own cameras.”
Fergal hesitated - just for a second - and his gaze flicked back to Crawford before he answered.
“Nine. I’ve… made some friends.”
“Is that not your job?” The voice retorted, then audibly clicked their teeth. “I have the courtyard; cannot see inside. You are clear now, but there are more enroute.”
“Thank you,” Fergal replied, then frowned. “Where are you, Isuanai? We can - ”
“I am… safe,” the voice cut him off sharply, irritation clear again even in the tinny tones. “Go, and go now.”
“Never argue with a ‘Swan,” Samie muttered, mostly to himself, as Fergal hurriedly explained the situation to the others. After a quick, very gesture-heavy discussion between the golden guards, they started for the wide doors at the room’s other end; the Ambassadors supporting each other, Crawford slung over Samie’s wide shoulder like a whimpering backpack.
We’re gettin’ on better than at that fuckin’ party, anyway.
They had eyes, and comms, and almost the outline of an entire plan. Now here was just hoping their luck held out.
And it did - for a whole ten minutes.
Then the shooting started.
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#Entofic#Historical adventures of the periodically-demonic pseudo-Irish#not 100% sure about pacing but ehh#This is all going so well#Poor Fergal - he's a nice boy#French iWizard hipsters#Abhain
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