#Currently typing this from the backseat of my own car with my laptop in my lap.

[iero]

src. 

[eostra11211]

The heist chapter 25

A. N: it's late no ? 🤧I apologize so much for your wait, I thought I could make it but the fever went back🤧 stay all healthy and safe 😊💟

• Since the previous chapter along with other comments mentioned disliking of the antagonist's nickname I decided to adjust it by making it origionally an official surname of his. I hope you are comfortable with the minor fix and please leave comment if you wish I go about it in any other way.❤️❤️❤️🌷

Warnings: •maybe spoilers for episode 10 •nightmare •⚠️spice🌶️😍🤭⚠️

'shut up!' I cussed unspokenly at my growling stomach. I don't feel hungry but overhearing my own empty bowls made me blush right on the spot.

I was anything but a stress eater. Only the opposite actually. Stress owns my appetite.

My gaze stumbled onto the rearview mirror for a second and was able to meet Kyle's gaze.

I grimaced wondering if he has something to say to me maybe? But he awkwardly looked away.

I almost felt amused at his awkwardness but rolled my eyes at the possibility that he has just caught me blushing.

His gleaming green eyes in the current daylight shade somehow resembled richy's. My friend Richy. Same energy and vibe of a caring friend who is always on the look out for anyone who need his help.

A secret poisoned my friendship with Richy. And so did Hannah's before me.

My memory recaptured the final video call of Richy's and my heart stung for Jessy. Richy had long buried his feelings for her and let his dark secret swallow him alive.

He denied himself happiness but gave Jessy the same sentence too without her knowledge. I frowned anxiously at the thought and looked at Jake sitting beside me in the backseat of the car.

He has been typing on his laptop but seemed to have taken a break from focus, looking outside the window and cracking his knuckles.

I felt my face soften in the instance, he looks very at ease and normal.

'i cannot bear the thought of leaving my feelings for you unsaid' I smiled recalling this.

He must have felt me eye-hugging him since he looked at me and smiles back.

I never knew seeing his smile could do all that. Sending my heart racing, my skin heats all the way up to my cheeks and my sex pulse. I thought he tensed too so I looked away. Back to the window.

I heared typing sound but it sounded intermittent and inconsistent.

My side eye view showed Jake stealthily staring at what seemed to me as my boots all the while he had his hands hardly moving over his laptop keyboard.

"What are you working on?" I asked Jake while I approached him as to get a better view to his laptop screen.

" of course." Jake swallowed and began to answer. His blushing when he side eyed my partly bared knees at the edge of my pencil skirt didn't escape my notice. "Masters has a secluded part of the farm that has electromagnetic field completely isolated. No signal in or out.." I was wearing coat but I didn't care to readjust it to cover the skirt. He spoke and I nodded to show attention.This could be very important. "This could get our connection to suddenly cut off at any chance you had to go in there. I have been researching ways around the signal protection to incorporate it in the coms you are taking inside."

" That sounds familiar. " I let my knees so softly brush his thighs. "back in the mines I could receive call from Alan but unlike you, my messeges to him never went through. Strangely enough all my messeges to you went through."

He looked intently at anywhere but me and her seemed to be still listening " I am not sure if this could be any help but I have to note here that your coms there were more stable than Alan's. So if we take the area of the mine as deliberately protected as it is this farm's case. Then .."

He nodded and didn't say anything so I continued:

" Then what ever bypassed any protection in the mine should be strong enough to bypass it in the farm."

Jake locked his gaze on mine all while giving me his heart and brain melting signature smile. His eyes never been bluer and their gleam promising liberty along with sanctuary.

"That is most important to ensure it works with the coms you will be taking inside. Good job, mc."

"See now I should be taking the lead on everything, you will see." I teased and his eyes heated.

Not seeing the reaction I was hoping for, I snuck under his left arm and nestled onto his shoulder "I'd always rather that you lead." I spoke my heart out.

"I have sworn to protect you at all costs. Yet you are involved because of me."

"we talked about this before. " I felt his heart racing under my ear. In reaction I looked up to face him : "I am doing this. For us."

Jake made not a sound but kissed my forehead and held me closer.

Feeling of distance pinched at my instinct. Jake is keeping something from me. Something that worries him. But right now in his arms I felt so serene I drifted.

He sent people looking for me with him while he hunted me down. He doesn't want to hurt me but going back to him is like ceasing to exist. I become like him. shell version of myself and alone. I need Jake. He can protect me. In the dark I find the sign bright"Roger's garage" Richy is inside. Always ready to help me, he hides me no questions asked. He sends up stairs to his apartment beside the garage. But once he leaves me upstairs I find him downstairs. behind me was the edge of the roof and void he promises me.

"MC.."

I was awaken softly by Jake. I realized my breathing was fast. God I hope it wasn't loud in the moments before.

"We are here." Jake eyes me intently, still not letting me go.

I nod and pull away.

Outside was still dense trees but I assume this would be Jake's hideout.

"Alright let's get you in there, we are late already.

You will follow me through the kitchen and where you are going to impress the chef with your waitress skills and I will go back to the staff's main entrance

Wait for my signal untill James and I gain access to as much cameras as we can get and you make your way into the server's room. "

Jake handed me a flip phone. "Use it in section c of third floor."

I opened it and I was met the familiar background of Jake's computer with a digital clock on it . "What you will have to do is long press the volume up button."

"okay. "I say abit flustered. And very excited." #i am really Jake now" I give out nervous laugh.

Jake gives me heated look and says "you have to promise me,

At first sign of trouble you back out."

I quickly nod, still nervous.

"alright. I am ready. " I address to Kyle who was already out of the car hurrying me up and I exit the car.

Kyle and I take few steps forward but with a frown I wonder"I didn't know Jake had to be this close."

" Say it! " Through the forest, Jake only spoke in calm pitch but managed to make himself heard.

" What? "

" Promise me. "

I know I will only follow my instinct as to mark willow's business now, what are the odds that it can be as right as with Jake. " I promise, Jake."

Nervously I hug Jake. I felt shaky untill he felt his arms pressing firmly but gently around my ribs.

He pulls back his head and meets my lips with his. So slowly he takes his time goading and coaxing untill I hungrily use my lips and tongue on his. He nibbles on my lips while his tongue explored my mouth. His slow taking of my mouth with the hot little breaths he let me take amidst our connection. His groans and mine intensifies the sensation that all echo to my core which deliciously ached. I let my hands almost claw all the way throughout his hoodie to steady myself on my now weak knees.

"It's very nice but my boss could kill me if I get late and he thinks once about it."

I recognize Kyle's voice. So distantly now. A little indifferently to him I long kiss Jake's upper lips and pull away while he suckles on my lower one.

"I will." I say, out of breath. My hand leaning on to his chest. feeling his heart.

With a knowing smile he takes my hand and kisses it.

"I will see you later, mc."

Jake turns back to the car almost simultaneously with my going with Kyle.

When Kyle left me in the kitchens, I felt relaxed and at ease. Jake can kiss a woman's stress into oblivion.

Right at the thought I feel vibration in my skirt pocket.

Jake's flip phone?

I take it out in a blind spot to the nearest camera and found messege from unknown:

JNJMGOHFOUOKRJQURUWTZVHTKWQ

Could this be the signal Kyle mentioned?

"MC." Jake speaks into my ear

"Hi." I grin like a fool.

Thankfully one of them was passing. He didn't reply however.

"I saw the message just now. I need you to listen to me very carefully.."

" Okay..? "

I answer Jake as if still addressing that guy.

He doesn't even seem to be in the kitchen staff.

"Make your exit through the kitchens entrance to the main hall and use the sign off paper that Kyle gave you for emergency exit to pass through securi.. "

" Always reply when someone greets you."

A voice interrupted Jake while I am about to push through the kitchen doorway.

I look in the direction and I see an average man in t-shirt and Lycra pants. Comfy.

He has a broad smile on his face and leaned his head forward to capture my attention so I instinctively smile back: "sorry, what was that?"

"The dude in the suit. He should have replied to you greeting him. Were you not?"

" Oh, that's fine really. I can get used to being invisible always." I mean who really cares. Except for This 'Dude.'.

"I could never imagine beauty like yours invisible unless for the blind, Ms Davis"

Really? I make a bitch face inwardly. and how on earth did he?

"Mark Masters. You know me as mark willow." He held out a hand. But I just stood there and dismissed.

He went on waving his hand:"I see how it gets confusing, is it willow or masters but it's all about who you let yourself be defined to, you know, now I would like to relate myself to Jake's and my adoptive father.

Jake did lead me to you after all..

".. I see you don't know? Well, poor communication is relationships poison."

" And I see you seem to mind everyone's buisness except for yours."

"I mind both of you's buisness because you need my guidance.

There are people, Ms Davis that inspire others and pave their ways to get them to their place in the world.

You might not understand it. But trust me when I tell you,

You will learn to accept it."

Previous chapter - next chapter

@red-writes-stuff you are up now 🌷🙂

[stutterfly]

Failure to Communicate

This was a joint collab fic that @gukslut​ and I worked on, commissioned by @cypherft-v as part of our fundraising for Black Lives Matter. Thank you for contributing! Banner & moodboard by me :)

{Pairing} Park Jimin/ Reader

{Genre} Enemies to Lovers/ College AU/ comedy/ smut

{Rating} Mature - Explicit 

{Word Count} 21K

{Warnings} oral, kissing, fingering, protected sex, biting, marking, other filthy shit

{Summary} You've always had a crush on Park Jimin, but the truth is that you're just one of many. He just so happens to be the TA for one of your classes, and you're determined to make your feelings known. Whether or not he takes you seriously remains to be seen.

{Prompt} Could either of you write an enemies to lover story about jimin and y/n set in college where he was her TA and got her kicked out of her major bc he didnt give her the grade she needed and was generally unhelpful? Posted on tumblr on August 17, 2020 by stutterfly and cross-posted to Ao3. I do not allow reposting, translations, or edits, to any platform, including YouTube.

Ten more minutes. You can barely see the clock from your seat against the wall. The lecture hall isn't crowded by any means; to the contrary, this Tuesday/Thursday psych class is usually pretty empty. You could have just as easily sat in the middle, but it doesn't afford you the same view. Well, it does. But not the one you prefer. It's just that positioned front and center, your staring would look more obvious. At least that's what you're telling yourself. If you stare from the corner it's less conspicuous, which is important because you do a lot of staring in this class. Park Jimin is the TA.

The man in question sits off to the side at a table of his own, typing away on his laptop. This reminds you that you haven’t been doing much other than quietly ogling from a distance. The only notes you're taking are lackluster doodles of his appearance and the occasional squiggle of your pen at the quiet sighs he lets out when he stretches his back after sitting hunched over his laptop for too long.

Jimin is absolutely breathtaking — even in an ugly plaid three-piece suit and perfectly round spectacles that would look horrid on any normal person. You're definitely not the only one who has noticed. His beautiful features and fantastic bone structure forge a man who is borderline ethereal. With soft eyes, big pouty lips, a flawless complexion, and a flirtatious demeanor he has enraptured many over the years. He's popular... like, really popular.

You begrudgingly count yourself among those love-smitten numbers. You know it’s hopeless and illogical. He could have any person he so desired at any point in time. Why would he ever choose someone like you? If you’d been paying any sort of attention to the subject matter of this class you might know that things like feelings and life’s rhetorical questions often don’t make sense.

But you’re shit at psychology. You’re more of a blunt poet at heart, and that heart is often hidden behind twisted brambles of anxiety and sharp thorns of insecurity.

You are but a speck of dirt upon his round glasses. It’s been a hopeless, silent crush for some time, but now that he’s assisting the professor in this core requirement for your academic studies, he has to acknowledge your presence. You’re a speck he has to look at before swiping you out of sight with a wave of his hand.

He's the object of just about everyone's affections, and rightfully so. He's not just gorgeous, he's charismatic, charming, and such a smooth talker. The word on campus says those pretty lips of his can do a lot of other really wonderful things too. You've been watching him chew on them for the past five minutes straight, wondering how many times his deliciously pink tongue can sweep over them before he makes them chapped.

Maybe they're chapped already. Maybe you should offer him your chapstick? Or maybe you should never talk to him at all, because you don't stand a chance. Park Jimin would chew you up and leave you bleeding out with a broken heart, and you know it. That doesn't stop you from imagining all the ways he could take you in his mouth first. You could watch those pretty lips all day long, but you’ll settle for an hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Looking up as if he's been paying attention all along, Jimin attempts to figure out where the professor is in the lesson. It’s obvious that he wasn't listening at all and was instead answering messages. It would be nice if he could say they were messages for class, but that's not true and Jimin is a lot of things, but he isn't a liar. He's been talking to Chungha, his current flavor of the week.

He turns toward the students as the professor dismisses the class and there you are, eager and awestruck. It takes every ounce of self control Jimin has not to roll his eyes. Another fan, he presumes. You can't handle him, but he can tell by the embarrassed way you tear your eyes from him to look anywhere else that it hasn't stopped you from thinking about it.

Trying to seem nonchalant now is a lost cause. Jimin has no shame and although you busied yourself by packing up your neglected textbooks and darting your gaze to various points in the room for a straight minute, Jimin is still staring at you when you look back at him. He smirks when your eyes meet. It's not a flirty kind of smirk, you sadly note. It's condescending in your eyes, which further solidifies your theory: Jimin is too much for you no matter how badly you want a taste of him.

"Did you take notes?" he asks, nodding toward your backpack where you've just tucked your computer and sketched up notebook.

"I- uhh..." You panic.

"You know that was all about the exam next week. You're gonna need those notes if you want to have any hope of passing it," he tells you, shoving his own computer into his bag.

"I was just.. um, I was--" you attempt to explain.

"Busy staring at me?" He smiles and you know he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s teasing oh gyou.

You balk at the blatant accusation and force a half-laugh, half-scoff from your throat. “No.”

"Yes," he corrects with a light and mellifluous laugh. "Is there pen on my face or were you hoping you could be?"

"What?" you choke, eyes watering at the idea.

Jimin shakes his head, laughing softly to himself as he remembers his surroundings. With a small clear of his throat and the subtle adjusting of his tie, he provides a suggestion for you. “Get them from Taehyung.”

"Get what?" you ask, drawing a blank on what this conversation was even about. It's the first time you've ever actually talked to him outside of your dreams and it’s proving to be a lot harder than you thought it would be.

"The notes, Y/N. Get the notes from Taehyung, you know, the ones that you didn't take today because you were daydreaming about my mouth," he tells you, heading for the door.

Taehyung, who is the only other person left in the room wiggles his fingers at you in a wave. When you turn back, Jimin is gone.

"Need the notes?" Taehyung asks, voice free of judgement.

"Please," you sigh, relieved that he'd waited.

He spins his laptop toward you, where an email is already open with the notes attachment added. "Drop your address in there," he says standing up.

"Thank you so much," you say, frantically typing your student email into the space.

"Hey, y/n?" Taehyung asks, the bristles of curiosity or concern painting his tone with a soft comfort.

"Yeah?"

"Jimin is a fool," he tells you.

"What?"

"If you were looking at me like that, I'd at least ask for your number." Tae offers a combination of large hopeful eyes and a giant goofy grin as he holds his phone out for you.

Giggling, you take it from his hand and add your number to his contacts list. He purses his lips to hide his excitement as he takes his phone back. He slides it into his pocket before hastily packing the rest of his things into his leather messenger bag.

"Thanks, Taehyung," you say, waving on your way out the door.

"Wait!" he shouts after you, half of the contents of his bag threatening to spill onto the floor as he scrambles away from the table. He adjusts his belongings and clears his throat, instantly adopting a smooth persona. "Where are you going? I'll walk you."

"My car?"

"Wanna come eat with me?" he wonders. He's confident, but it's not the same kind of arrogant confidence that Jimin oozes. He's softer. He feels more real, more attainable. He obviously knows he's a catch and he’s definitely expressed the same about you. What could be the harm in letting an attractive man stroke your ego a little bit? If you’re being honest with yourself, you can use the boost after such a pathetic display towards your crush.

"Oh, uh... yeah. I guess so," you agree, letting him lead the way out the door.

"Cool." Tae takes his glasses off and hooks them in his shirt. Pulling a snapback from his bag, he pushes his hair back and puts it on before he swings his messenger bag over his shoulder. Damn. Why did that raise his hotness like ten whole levels?

"You like hamburgers?"

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Taehyung slips into the seat next to you on Thursday, brushing against you very deliberately as he passes.

"Hello, sugar," he says, licking his lips as he spares a fleeting glance down at your chest.

"Hey, Tae," you greet him while your eyes are still locked on Jimin.

"Still on Jimin, huh?" he asks. He doesn't sound particularly disappointed, or surprised for that matter. He's just stating a fact. You're relieved he's not offended. Letting him eat you out in his backseat after dinner was probably not your best decision, although it seems like it meant about as much to him as it did to you.

"I don't know," you say with a shrug.

"It's okay. I can't blame you. I could put in a good word for you if you want. We're close," he informs you, sitting back and spreading his legs wide under the desk.

Sighing, you rest your cheek in your palm. "I've got a plan," you confess.

"Oh yeah?" he chuckles. He playfully knocks his knee against yours as if to signal for you to spill. "Do tell."

"I think I need a little extra help with this material," you tell Taehyung.

"Good luck, Y/n. I hope he can squeeze you into his busy schedule, but hey, if he can't, I'm totally down to squeeze into yours anytime."

Looking at Tae out of the corner of your eye, you smile at the grin he wears and start to laugh at the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"I'll keep that in mind," you joke.

"Please do."

The minutes drag on as you wait for this class to end. Doing your best to seem a little less obsessive this time, you make a point to take notes and look at the teacher more than the TA. Jimin still catches you staring at least three times. It's embarrassing, but not enough to stop you from approaching him as the room empties out.

"Hi, y/n," Jimin sings, giving you a knowing smile.

"Hi." You tuck your hair behind your ear, and smile back.

"Do you need something?" he wonders, purposefully combing his fingers through his silver hair.

Damn, do you ever.

"I was wondering if you had time to help me. I'm struggling with this material and I could really use some one-on-one guidance." Leaning over his desk you make sure he has a good view right down your shirt, not that his eyes wander from yours. While he shows restraint in his gaze you swear he briefly drags his bottom lip through his teeth before he catches himself.

"One-on-one, huh?" He sticks his tongue in his cheek, looking amused. "I bet Taehyung would give you some one-on-one guidance."

You're sure that's true, but it's not Taehyung you're after. Taehyung isn’t the TA. Taehyung isn’t getting paid to help teach a course. Of course you want to say that and in your head you rehearse the words but you can’t seem to find a way to phrase them eloquently enough. Why do you always get stupid brain around him? Your plan is quickly falling apart.

Jimin waits for your response with his eyebrows raised. You know he's two seconds away from leaving you gaping at him and walking out the door, so you do something incredibly rash and stupid.

"I like you," you blurt out.

Jimin smiles. He knows that, obviously. He also knows damn well that you're perfectly capable of looking back at your notes by yourself. You're definitely smart and dedicated enough to study on your own. He can't help teasing you anyway.

"Everyone likes me," he casually informs you as he plants his palms on the desk and leans on them.

He peeks over the edge of his glasses as he looks up at you, like some kind of otherworldly sexy librarian. If deities ever needed a librarian, Jimin wouldn’t even need a resume. His charm and seduction are so strong that you almost miss his rejection. Almost. You're stunned into silence when it hits you. Just as you're about to tuck and run, he smiles again.

"But,” he pauses to click his tongue thoughtfully, “I think I have some time on Saturday. I'll give you my number.” He rips a corner of paper out of his notebook. "Is it okay if I come to your place? Do you have a dorm or…”

"Oh. My apartment’s fine!" you flounder, trying to remember how to speak coherent sentences. Jimin. In your room. How many dreams have you had about this moment? "I mean, yeah, sure. You'll come to mine, yeah."

Jimin giggles and it sounds like pealing bells. You're lost in the beautiful sound of it until you realize that he's laughing at you. "You okay with that? We could meet somewhere else instead."

"I wouldn't mind you in my room," you sigh. Open mouth; insert foot.

He raises an eyebrow, giving you a chance to backtrack, but you're both well aware you meant every word of that.

"Okay, y/n. See you Saturday then. Call me."

"I’ll call you," you repeat, resisting the urge to slap your palm over your face. You sound like an idiot. Stupid brain strikes again.

Jimin barely notices, all too used to girls falling over themselves to get his attention. You’re no different to him, just another pretty face in a sea of women entranced by the way he walks, talks, and breathes. It’s not his fault he’s so damn pretty. He does note that you’re brave, however. Not many people come on to him so brazenly, and that’s something worth rewarding. Besides, he feels a sort of obligation to help you out. He is getting paid to help out the professor, after all.

He winks at you as he leaves, taking your breath and your sanity with him. You have Park Jimin’s phone number. Park Jimin is going to be in your apartment in two days. Maybe you didn’t bomb that as hard as you thought.

A slow clap beckons you to look back for the source and you find Taehyung looking back at you with his boxy grin. When he’s sure he’s got your attention he raises his two thumbs up in approval.

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Jimin is not surprised when Chungha disappears into the clusterfuck of bodies as soon as they step into the party. They may have come here together, but their fling is on its last leg and they both know it. She wants him off her couch, doesn't appreciate the feeling of tied-down-ness that comes with your friend with benefits staying over all the time. She's ready to move on, that means he has to as well.

Jimin isn't even sure whose house this is, but he’s happy to tag along for free booze and maybe a new face to go home with. Luckily, his friends are never far, and he finds them easily. Getting absolutely hammered in the backyard makes them hard to miss. Jungkook is the only one looking particularly bored as a very drunk Taehyung hangs all over him talking about the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

"Why so glum?" Jimin asks, nudging Jungkook's shoulder with his own.

"I'm the designated driver tonight," Jungkook sighs, pushing Taehyung off of him.

Taehyung slumps to the ground, immediately entranced by the stars above him. Jungkook kicks at him gently.

"Where's your girlfriend? I haven't seen you without your tongue down her throat all week," Jungkook wonders, looking behind Jimin for the woman in question.

"Girlfriend," Jimin repeats with a snort. "Hilarious. That's not a thing. She's probably looking for her next kill."

Jungkook regards Jimin thoughtfully, his eyebrows scrunching toward each other. "If you take over DD you can have the futon."

Jungkook loves his futon. It's one of his most prized possessions. He keeps it very clean and being allowed to get anywhere near it is a privilege. Jimin is pretty sure he goes over it with a lint roller as part of his nighttime routine. It's also incredibly comfortable.

Jimin releases a breath in a tortured groan as he thinks over his options. He could get black out drunk and wake up god knows where with a terrible hangover, or he could hang out and watch his friends get black out drunk and then wake up on a futon that feels more like a cloud than a mattress, a little slice of heaven in Jungkook and Taehyung's little apartment.

"Okay," Jimin relents. "Give me the keys. I’ll stick to water for the rest of the night."

"Ah, I love you man," Jungkook praises, tossing his keys in Jimin's general direction before grabbing the newly opened can of beer out of Taehyung's hand below him. Taehyung, still staring up at the sky with a glazed smile, doesn't react. It takes Jungkook all of five seconds to pour the contents of the can straight down his throat. He follows this by smashing the can in a bicep curl with a giggle and a bashful smile.

"Do it again," an unfamiliar girly voice pleads from across the table. She tosses him another can and he repeats the action, turning away when he's finished so that he doesn't have to see her reaction. Jimin knows what's going to happen once his friend gets a few more beers in him. Jungkook is going to go apeshit. There will be no trace of this shy hunk of muscle who blushes and coils away from pretty girls. He'll be chest thumping shirtless and picking up everyone who gets close enough to touch. Half of them will probably end up thrown in the pool, if history is anything to go by, and he'll most likely have the hottest girl at the party slobbering all over him in the backseat when Jimin drives him home tonight.

Jimin's suspicions prove true an hour later when Jungkook throws Tae in the pool. Jimin runs to the edge of it in a panic. Tae was very drunk so he needs to make sure he's not just sinking like a stone. That was his first mistake, although he'd make it again to keep Taehyung safe. His second mistake was wearing these ridiculously tight ass jeans.

Any other pair and he might have been able to pry his cell phone from his pocket the second he felt JK's hands on his back. Had he worn any other pair of pants he might have been able to throw it to safety in the grass before he hit the surface of the pool. As it stands, his skin tight jeans are soaked through, Tae is slightly more sober than he was when Jimin arrived and is swimming just fine, and Jimin's phone is totally destroyed.

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You should be sleeping. It's three in the morning. You should definitely not be awake right now. Lifting your phone up for the three hundredth time tonight, you're not surprised to have no new notifications. That text you sent to Jimin hours ago has gone unanswered.

You typed and erased it at least ten times, agonized over what to say, and how to say it. By the time you pressed send, the message was nothing like how it began and you noticed a second too late that you didn't even tell him who you were. Adding a second text saying 'it's y/n btw' seemed so desperate. You've been waiting for him to ask who you are for so long that you've convinced yourself he already knows and he's avoiding you on purpose. Who else would have said "i'm excited to see you tomorrow" in a text about meeting up to study? He knows it's you. He has to. The alternative possibility that he plans to see other people tomorrow too is too bothersome to accept. You really need to let this go and try to sleep.

Keys in the door stop you from dragging yourself off the couch. Your roommate will see you and accuse you of trying to run away from him to avoid something. He’s right, of course. You’ve attempted to flee from your problems in the past, against his advice. Now you know better than to try. It's much better to face things with Yoongi head on. At the very least, maybe he's got something helpful to say.

"Why're you up? You look sad." His words slur just the tiniest bit and he leans against the wall for stability as he takes off his shoes just inside the door. You see right through his attempts at nonchalance. He's tipsy.

"A boy I like isn't texting me back," you admit with a scowl. "You didn't drive, did you?"

"No, friend dropped me off. Is it Taehyung?" Yoongi asks, not pausing for an answer. "I wouldn't worry too much. He talked about you a lot tonight. He was really drunk though. You should go to bed. He'll probably text you in the morning."

You don't bother to correct Yoongi. Admitting you're harboring a huge fucking crush on the campus it-boy is the most foolish thing you could possibly do. It's embarrassing and naive and Yoongi would pity you for falling for someone so far out of your league. Maybe you should just date Taehyung and forget about Jimin. He sure seems to have forgotten about you.

When the morning comes and your only notifications are an email from Target and a text from your mom, you muster up every bit of courage you could possibly find in your body and call him. You’d rather know if he’s deliberately ignoring you now than agonize over other possibilities all day.

It doesn't even ring. His phone goes straight to voicemail. You try again, and a third time. Voicemail, voicemail. Could it be you rushed putting his number in and did it incorrectly? You dig through your backpack for the slip of paper he gave you to double check, and sure enough, it’s his number. He's ignoring you. He turned off his phone to solidify that fact in your brain.

Last night, laying awake waiting for his name to light up your phone, you felt pretty damn bad. In the daylight, with rest and a clear head, you're absolutely crushed. He was supposed to come over. You had plans. It was stupid of you to think you could earn space in his mind or time in his schedule. He played you, and it hurts.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Studying on your own proves more difficult than you imagined. With only Tae's notes to go by, you feel like you're quizzing yourself on things you already know. Turning to the textbook doesn't give you the specialized knowledge you need for the exam. You could never hope to memorize enough of it that you'd retain something pertinent.

On top of that, your heart hurts. You were so close to spending time together you could practically smell the subtle scent of his cologne. He pulled the rug right out from under you so fast, your ass is sore from falling on it so hard.

Sunday and Monday pass miserably in their slowness as you continue to nurse your tender rejected heart. You spend two days mulling over how you're going to face Jimin on Tuesday, let alone how you’re going to pass this exam when you're so disgustingly focused on figuring out why he stood you up and ignored you all weekend.

Tuesday comes too soon and you find yourself lingering outside the lecture hall for way longer than any sane person should.

That's what bothers you the most about this whole thing with Jimin. He's stolen your sense. How on earth did you let a stupid crush, on a boy you hardly know, get between you and your grades? You tell yourself no more as you suck in a deep breath and steel yourself to march right through the door. You're not going to let Park Jimin and his cruelty stand between you and your credits.

With your resolve solid and your head held high, you push yourself forward. You don't even spare a glance in his general direction as you pass, although it would be a lie to say you didn't clock him in your peripheral. Tae sits down next to you a moment later and you thank your lucky stars you have a friend here to make you look busy.

"Ready to make this exam your bitch?" he asks, making finger guns at you and clicking his tongue.

"That remains to be seen," you say, turning toward him in your seat so that Jimin is behind you. "I couldn't get anything done this weekend," you confess. "I thought I was more prepared than I am so it really just depends on what's on the exam."

"Aw fuck, you could have called me," he says, passing you his note cards. "We could have studied together."

"Oh, Tae," you sigh, pushing his hand back and refusing his offer of notes. "You should use this time for yourself. It wouldn't be fair of me to take it from you."

"We've got ten minutes." He points to the clock at the front of the lecture hall. "Quiz me. It will help us both."

Ten minutes fly by as you do your absolute best to retain any of the information in Taehyung's carefully written cards. You take one last glance at it before someone slips it from your hand and replaces it with a test. You know it's Jimin.

Only when you look up and level him with a glare does it seem to register on his face that you're angry. Realization dawns on him as you snatch the test and lean over it on your desk.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry," he quietly whispers, but he's moving on already. The exam is about to begin. He doesn't have time to explain himself right now. He knows what it looks like. He led you on and stood you up without so much as a text message. He should have asked Tae to tell you what happened, but the truth is that he forgot about you entirely and he knows that is the cruelest thing he could possibly confess.

Nearly an hour later you set your pencil down and run your fingers through your hair. Did any of those answers make sense? Your only possible saving grace is bullshitting your way through the open responses. Maybe you’ll earn some partial credit at the very least.

You swallow the petty words threatening to spill from your tongue as you gather your things and approach Jimin’s desk with your test in hand. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice the anxious glances he threw your way. You swore every time you looked up he was looking at you, so you’d squint like you were checking the time, like you had somewhere more important to be than taking an exam for a core requirement course.

As you slap the packet of your evident failure down on his desk, you don your best apathetic expression. You look down at him and allow a sliver of eye contact, just enough to send the message that you don’t care anymore. You try to look bored. He doesn’t deserve to see how he’s hurt you or angered you. He’s nothing to you. You’re nothing to him, but you’re not beneath him. He’s beneath you. You don’t just look at him; you look through him.

He blinks a few times and a chill runs down his spine. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words won’t form.

“Don’t bother. I don’t care,” you whisper with a roll of your eyes.

You make sure to straighten your shoulders and keep your chin up as you turn on your heel and leave. You bombed that exam and you know it, thanks to your stupid feelings, but at the very least you achieved the victory of shaking Park Jimin to his core. So why do you feel like you’re about to sob in the bathroom down the hall?

Oh. Because you are. You spend at least five minutes composing yourself and washing your face before your phone buzzes with a much needed distraction.

[NEW MESSAGE] Tae: hungry?

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Jimin’s leg bounces uncontrollably under his desk while he waits for the remaining students to finish their exams so he can go after you. He wracks his brain for ways to clear the nervous tension dwelling within but it’s no use. Confrontation makes him so uncomfortable. Still, he can’t have you thinking he’s a total douche. He should text you. Fuck, he should call you. And he would, if he had a working phone. The second the last student drops their exam on his desk he’s going to find you and apologize.

He knows his reputation precedes him. He knows exactly what this looks like. You probably think he blew you off to get some or just led you on entirely, but he really did mean to meet up with you. He needs to clear the air. Maybe he’s a little loose with his morals at times, but he’s never an asshole on purpose. He prides himself on being a beacon of positivity and an example on how to make people feel good even if it’s only to make them feel good. He barely knows you, but it bothers him to think that you’re out there thinking he’s a heartless jerk and that he hurt your feelings on purpose.

It’s a big campus and Jimin spends the better half of an hour searching it before he finds you in the cafeteria with Taehyung. You look awfully close, and he almost feels bad interrupting you, but he owes you an explanation. It’s a mystery to him why on earth you would seek out his company when Taehyung seems all too willing to be what you need.

Taehyung notices him before you do. He shakes his head at Jimin disapprovingly. “Cold, man. So cold.”

Jimin nods, hanging his head. He’s well aware. You haven’t turned around yet and don’t intend to. If Jimin can ignore you then you can ignore him too. Besides, if you turn to face him, he might notice your watery, puffy eyes. How incredibly foolish that would be to admit that you’ve been crying about being stood up by someone you’ve barely even spoken to.

“Y/n?” Jimin’s soft voice calls to you, melodic and soothing as ever. “Can I have a minute?”

Taehyung looks between the two of you while he moves a french fry into his mouth at a snail’s pace and slowly chews as if this is free entertainment.

“No,” you answer.

“I’m sorry about Saturday,” he tells you, progressing despite your refusal to listen. He plants his hands on the table beside you and leans in to try to steal a glance at your profile, but you turn your head away.

“Jungkook pushed me in the pool right after this asshole,” he says, pointing at Taehyung. “My phone was in my pocket. It’s ruined.”

“Hey,” Taehyung interrupts, his mouth open in protest and full of half-chewed fries. “Don’t pin this on me. You could have asked any one of us to let her know what happened. You never even mentioned it. Why don’t you just admit that you forgot?” Taehyung suggests, jamming another french fry into his little paper cup of ketchup before cramming it into his mouth.

Jimin fumes for a moment, glaring at Tae before he pulls out the chair next to you and spins it around. He straddles it and rests his chin on the backrest. “Y/n, I’m sorry. I forgot. I swear I never would have done something like that to you on purpose. My phone getting ruined messed up a lot of things, but if you give me another chance, I’d love to prove that I’m not the horrible person you think I am.”

Silence. You glance over at Taehyung, willing him to speak up and either back Jimin up or get you out of this. You’re ready to forgive Jimin already and leave with him right now and it’s not lost on you how bad that looks. It’s so easy for Jimin to have you wrapped around his fingers. You wish he was ugly. You wish you never signed up for this stupid class. You wish you could feel for Tae the way you feel for Jimin so that you could just leave with him instead. You’re about ready to anyway when he finally opens his mouth again.

“I think you should take her out to eat. Eating out is the perfect way to apologize, don’t you think?” Tae’s grin is so wide it makes his eyes crinkle.

You huff out a humorless laugh. If that’s what you wanted you’d stick with the original plan and be in the backseat of Taehyung’s car again in the next twenty minutes. Against your better judgement, you turn to look at Jimin, puffy eyes and runny nose no longer hidden. He’s a little taken back by your expression. He smiles at you softly and reaches out to brush his knuckles against your cheek. You practically melt into his touch.

“Mmm, I would like something sweet.” Jimin licks his lips. “How about ice cream?”

“When?” you ask, embarrassed by the way your voice cracks and by how easily you’re giving in.

“Now?”

“Well, look at the time,” Tae says, standing with his tray and messenger bag. “I’ve got to go wash my hair but you two have fun on your date. Use protection!” he calls behind him on his way toward the exit.

You’d be irritated by his blunt suggestion if his statement didn’t swirl a storm of butterflies deep in your gut. You’re so distracted by them that you don’t realize that you’re still gaping at Jimin in disbelief.

“So?” Jimin wonders, holding out his hand.

“I don’t forgive you,” you insist while taking it into yours. Although it’s probably a lie, he doesn’t call you on it. He simply smiles and gives your hand a tiny comforting squeeze.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

“My car is on the other side of campus,” you tell him once you’ve stepped outside. “Where are you parked?”

“Oh, um,” he stalls. “I thought it might be nice to walk, give us more time to talk. Is that okay?”

“Isn’t it kind of far?” you ask, assuming he's taking you to that chain ice cream shoppe a few miles off campus.

"No, this place is close. It's a secret. Not many people know about it," he says with a wink.

"You say that to everyone don't you?" You narrow your eyes at him, moving out of reach when he tries to put his arm around you.

"No," he laughs. "I've been here with other people, though. I was here with Jin last week." He smiles, leading the way toward a small alley between buildings.

You follow him easily, questioning again why you have so little self preservation when it comes to him. At the other end of the alley you can see what looks like a park. Green trees line the sidewalk up ahead, creating a canopy against the brilliant sun. The walk to this mysterious ice cream place is shaded and chilly. Jimin slips his jacket off and slings it over your shoulders when he notices you rubbing at your arms.

"Almost there," he promises. In the distance, framed by two towering oaks, is a tiny little ice cream place. It looks like a mirage, something out of a board game or a fairy tale. The closer you get, the more real it becomes. The siding is faded, the roof looks like it's in dire need of repairs, and the hand-painted sign reading The Cheery Cherry has seen better days. It's clean though, sparkling in all the places that matter.

There is a stout old man behind the window with a shining silver ice cream scoop ready and waiting in his hand. Jimin greets him by name and asks for a simple vanilla cone. You're tempted to judge him, he doesn't strike you as the vanilla type, but there must be a reason. Maybe this is the best vanilla ice cream on earth. You order the same just in case, taking your first taste as Jimin pulls a few bills from his wallet and hands them over with a shaky hand.

To your dismay the ice cream is not extraordinary; it's just plain vanilla. You could probably get the same exact type from any grocery store. You should have gone with something else. You should have at least gotten the cheery cherry cone. That might have been a flavor worth tasting. Why was he so bent on coming here for such a bland ice cream?

You suppose you should be thankful for the gesture but you still feel uneasy, like he’s playing you somehow. It almost feels like he’s doing it out of obligation rather than desire. Is he doing the bare minimum because he doesn’t feel like you’re worth more than this? Your company must be the equivalent to a plain vanilla cone. Mediocre. Unremarkable. Ordinary.

Forgettable.

Jimin turns back to you with his ice cream in one hand and change filling the other. "Is it good?"

"It's vanilla." You shrug.

"Do you want something different?" he asks, counting the money in his hand.

"No, I like vanilla."

"Figures," he teases.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you snap back at him.

"Nothing, sweetheart. I just think you're soft, sweet. Vanilla suits you."

"I am not vanilla. I do all kinds of freaky shit," you argue, realizing too late that you've over shared in your annoyance.

Jimin looks you over with a smirk, bringing his ice cream to his lips and dragging his tongue around the edge of the cone where it's dripping. "Noted," he says.

"I didn't mean-- I wasn't -- UGH," you huff, embarrassed that he's still making a fool of you from the doghouse. You need to change the subject fast. "What'syourmajor?" You rush the question past your lips and he laughs at your flustered state, waiting for you to slow down and ask him in words he can understand.

"Your major?" you repeat, slower this time.

"Oh, uh. Urban studies."

"Interesting."

"You don't know what that means, huh?" He nudges you with his elbow, falling in stride beside you. Unfortunately, you had just brought your ice cream up to your mouth and his nudging caused you to smear it across your cheek.

You look at him angrily. First he stood you up, forgot about you, then he had the nerve to show up to class today looking like a fucking angel, takes you for ice cream to make it up to you, and now he's teasing you and making you look every bit the fool you feel like you are. Tears well in your eyes when he laughs at the mess he caused.

"I'm sorry," he says through his giggling. He reaches out to gently wipe your cheek with his thumb which he promptly pops in his mouth and sucks clean after. "What's wrong?"

You swipe at your eyes, ridding them of the tears that were about to spill out as your shame bubbles over. "You make me feel stupid," you confess. "You're wasting my time."

Shoving his jacket back at him, you take off in the direction you came, throwing your stupid vanilla cone in the closest trash can and kicking yourself for not leaving with Taehyung instead. Jimin winces at the action, looking like you’ve discarded a precious keepsake rather than a plain, boring vanilla cone.

"Y/n, wait!" he calls, catching up to you with ease. He takes you by the wrist and spins you back to face him. "I don't think you're stupid at all. I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.” He sighs, softening his hold on you. “I didn’t know what to think about you when you approached me at first, you know? Girls throw themselves at me all the time.”

You grimace at his words and roll your eyes, snatching your wrist back with a scowl. Of course he thinks you were throwing yourself at him, but you’re sure that you weren’t. You were just being direct about your feelings. Do you really come across as such a desperate person? Maybe you should ask Yoongi for his opinion later.

“But I definitely didn’t mean to stand you up and I don’t mean to make you feel stupid at all. I think you're pretty smart, you’re cute and you’re actually bolder than I initially thought. I'd love to get to know you better. I know I'm not doing so great so far, but I can be better. Please, sit with me?" he asks, walking to a nearby park bench.

Reluctantly, you follow, although you make a point to drag your feet the whole way there. When you sit down beside him, he loops an arm around your waist and draws you closer, offering his ice cream up to you once your legs brush against his. You reach for it but he pulls it away.

"Hey," he jokes. "Just lick it. I didn't make you throw yours away."

You shake your head and lean forward to drag your tongue over what's left of his vanilla cone.

"Forgive me?" he asks. His toothy smile catches the sunlight and it genuinely hurts your eyes to keep looking.

"Okay. One more chance," you agree. "So, urban studies?"

He relaxes back against the bench, taking another lick before he offers the cone to you again. "Yeah, it's like community development and stuff. What about you, princess? What are you studying?"

You flush at the nickname, heat rising in your face and other places you'd rather not acknowledge. You're oblivious to the fact that you're having a similar effect on Jimin. The way you're licking his ice cream is making his pants feel a little tight.

"Teaching," you tell him, picking at the peeling paint on the bench.

"Little kids?"

"Yeah." You take another lick of his ice cream while he holds it, looking up halfway through.

Jimin's expression is unreadable, stunned almost. He shifts a little, crosses his legs, clears his throat.

"Kids are fun. I have a younger brother," he tells you.

"A lot younger?"

"No," he laughs. "But he's a total baby so it's basically the same.”

“Oh, does he get that from you?” you tease with a giggle.

His mouth drops open in surprise. “Hey,” he pouts. “That’s not nice.”

“I never said I was nice,” you tell him, taking another slow lick of his ice cream.

“Clearly,” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes. He drags his lip through his teeth to try to hide the smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

You manage to cram so much conversation into the next twenty minutes on this park bench, learning more about the mysterious campus celebrity than you ever thought you’d know. You hope his interest wasn't feigned, because it felt so fucking good to have his attention, to have him really listen to you and ask you about your life and your family and your hopes for the future. If you're not mistaken, you might think this was real progress.

Jimin watches you walk back toward campus with a soft smile and an unfamiliar feeling brewing inside him. You've surprised him. You're not the naive infatuated little girl he took you for. If he had a phone he'd be texting you already. He'd call you tonight, and maybe tomorrow. It's alarming to him how badly he wants another ten minutes with you. He hates that you declined his offer to walk you to your next class, but damn does he ever appreciate the view.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Thursday comes quickly. After your initial ice cream date, Jimin has found himself curiously seeking your attention rather than the other way around. With his phone out of commission he was hanging around the cafeteria all day yesterday in hopes of catching you. While it’s clear you don’t trust him and you haven’t forgiven him, you seem to have softened up a bit. You spent your meals together and allowed him to walk you to your classes, all while exchanging playful jabs at each other. You might forgive him for bailing if yesterday stood alone. Today is a whole different story.

Now Jimin is staring down a stack of graded exams the professor has dropped on the table at the front of the room. Students haven’t begun to trickle in yet so when the professor takes the opportunity to excuse himself, Jimin wastes no time in flipping through the pile to get a sense of the overall success of the class. When he gets to a test marked in thick red marker with an ‘F’ his stomach drops. He knows it’s yours before he even reads the name. He was hoping maybe you’d been lying about not paying attention.

He shuffles the exam back into place and straightens the pile just as the earliest student walks in. Jimin offers her a wan smile and a tiny bow of his head as a greeting. Although his stomach is still sinking and churning, he’s already thinking about ways he might be able to make it up to you.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Jimin finds you in the cafeteria with Taehyung again, where he has you distracted from your misery by folding and unfolding a cootie catcher in front of your face like you're in third grade and not your third year of college.

"Pick a color now, y/n," Tae urges, opening and closing the folded paper four times after you've indicated the triangle marked 'pink.' "Hmm," he ponders. "It says you need to relax."

"What is this, a fortune cookie? I thought these things were like truth or dare, or like... who I was gonna marry," you complain, flicking the craft from his hands.

Jimin picks the paper up off the floor and hands it back to Taehyung. "Do me," he says.

After a moment of pointing and folding, Tae announces, "It says you need to apologize. Again."

Jimin looks at you while Tae packs up his stuff. After dropping a kiss on the top of your head he leaves for his next class. The action makes Jimin furrow his brows and frown. A feeling too uncomfortably close to jealousy blooms in his chest. Why did that bother him so much? He's not ready to acknowledge the answer to that. Instead, he contradicts it by reminding himself that Tae is one of his closest friends and it's cool that the two of you are getting close too.

"Princess?" Jimin's song-like voice drifts to your ears once Tae has disappeared. You've pressed your face into your folded arms on the table and it's taking everything you have not to start crying about your failed exam again. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, laying his hand against the small of your back and beginning to rub soft circles there. "I'm sorry I didn't help you."

"I wish you were ugly," you mumble into your arms.

"What?" he laughs, leaning his face down next to yours.

You lift your head to meet his eyes. "If you were ugly this never would have happened," you insist, sitting up and shaking his hand off your back with a twist of your spine. "Just be ugly! FUCK."

Jimin smiles before screwing his face up into the most unrecognizable grimace he can manage. He holds it until you start to smile then switches to another terrible expression, with his chin tucked into his neck so that it morphs into several chins and crosses his eyes for extra emphasis on its ridiculousness. When you start to laugh he sticks out his tongue to make it worse.

Once you’re clutching your stomach and doubled over with pealing laughter, he gives you the beautiful smile you're so used to again. "Let's do something fun together," he offers. "And then after that, we'll get studying and make this right. Please let me make it up to you."

"Okay," you agree, leaning into his open arms. It only took a couple days of spending time together to remove the awkwardness you felt when he touched you. He's even held your hand a few times while you walked together after your other classes. Now, his embrace feels welcome and comforting. You still can’t tell if he’s just trying to be nice or if he actually likes doing it but you don’t mind at all.

"There's a party on Saturday, will you come with me?"

"Where?" you ask, as if you have any hope of refusing him at all. You'd go anywhere with him and you know it but you want to try to play it cool. Your tone seems more tepid than you anticipate but he doesn’t seem to call you out on it.

"Jin's," he tells you, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together.

He rubs his thumb against the back of your hand while he waits for you to pretend to decide. You relish in the motion. The tingle of butterflies erupt in your belly again like a cannon aimed at your heart, ready to sink it in an instant. Instead of falling, your heart seems to fly up to your brain and a light giggle escapes your lips.

"Okay. I'll come," you say in a euphoric brain fog, looking down at your joined hands. It's scary how good it feels to have his attention like this, but you hope it doesn’t stop.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

"Why are you home?" Yoongi asks, finding you on the couch when he emerges from his bedroom. His late afternoon nap went longer than expected, leaving you believing he was out for the night. You settled in with Netflix and snacks of your own. He flops down next to you, causing you to swing your feet off the couch before they get squashed beneath his butt. He yawns and lets his head dip forward as he pulls out his phone and begins flipping through it.

"It's Friday night,” he reminds you, his tone scratchy. It makes you giggle.

"I didn't wanna go out alone and I thought you were gone. You're gonna be up all night now, you know."

"I would have stayed asleep but I've got a friend in need," he mumbles, rubbing the remainder of sleep from his eyes.

"Aww, you're so good to me." You beam, snuggling up to him and wrapping him up in a tight hug.

"Not you," he huffs with a disgusted grimace. “Ugh, that’s enough touching.”

You immediately pull back and scoff. “Wow. You’re lucky I know you know you love me.”

He rolls his eyes. "That’s debatable.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mock him in a tone of disbelief. You pop a chip into your mouth. “So why are you really up— if not to support your wonderful, beautiful, perfectly sculpted local couch potato?”

He smiles and steals the next chip from your hand before you can shove it into your mouth. “If you're good with it, my friend is gonna crash on our couch for a few days. His parents cut him off and he’s got nowhere to go. He’s almost got enough saved up to get his own place, but he could use some help in the meantime. Figured we’re doing alright and we have a couch. You cool with that?"

"Sure," you agree, trusting Yoongi's judgment. He's not gonna let some crazy person stay on your couch. "When?"

"I was just waiting for your approval but I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to you before I passed out. I'll go pick him up now, if that's good with you," he says slipping his feet into a pair of sandals and looking for his keys.

"What, he doesn't have a car?"

"Sold it to pay for his books this semester. He's got nothing. He's keeping all his clothes in another friend's closet. It's kinda sad."

"That's rough," you agree, blowing out a heavy exhale and turning your attention back to the TV.

"I'll be back in a few. Maybe take it to your room so he can have the couch?" Yoongi suggests.

"Sure, sure," you say, already sucked back into your show and forgetting entirely about Yoongi and his friend for now.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

When Yoongi returns an hour later, you haven't moved. In fact, you’ve crashed… hard. Yoongi and his mystery guest enter to a chorus of your snores and the Friends theme song.

“Hey, get up,” Yoongi urges, nudging your shoulder lightly.

When you peel your eyes open to look at him, you’re utterly mystified to see the object of your affections a few feet behind him, standing awkwardly in your kitchen with a duffle slung over his shoulder.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you blink a few times to clear your vision. You want to be sure it's him before you open your mouth. He's there, in black sweats with a grey hoodie pulled up over his white baseball cap. “Jimin?”

“Oh good you know him," Yoongi says with relief coating his tone. "I’m gonna get him some blankets. Think you can take your Netflix marathon to your room?”

"Yeah, I can do that," you mumble, gathering up your mess and disappearing into your room without another word.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Alone in your room, you conjure up a hundred reasons in your anxious mind that could explain why Jimin thought he had to keep this huge secret from you. He’s got nothing? Maybe he was afraid you'd tell people. Suddenly, it makes so much sense why he's always walking everywhere.

You think back to Tuesday at the Cheery Cherry. His usually steady hands were so shaky handing over those bills he pulled from his wallet. You think of how tightly he clutched his change and even counted it out afterward. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with your own thoughts of inadequacy, you might have been able to put it together on your own. Your stomach drops when you recall the insulting way you threw your vanilla cone in the trash. The scene replays over and over again until you’re crying into your pillow.

Guilt keeps you awake until well past midnight as you turn these unsavory ideas over and over in your head, looking at them from every possible angle and over analyzing every detail of the time you've spent together thus far. Your eyes are now wide and dry, fixed on a black spot on your ceiling that you're hoping is just a speck and not a spider. The quilt in your hands is frayed, giving your nervous hands something to pick at while you let the silence drive you mad.

The soft knock on your door at half past one is a relief. Yoongi does his best cooking at odd hours, usually bringing you a plate if you're awake. It's a surprise to find Jimin outside your door instead. He awkwardly shifts from foot to foot until he finds your eyes in the dim glow of your table lamp.

"Did I wake you?" he whispers, head leaning against your door frame.

You shake your head, looking down at your skimpy sleep shorts and the university hoodie you pulled on to open the door. “I was up.”

“Can we talk?”

“Of course,” you answer, stepping aside so he can come in. Your eyes scan the room nervously, checking for underwear on the floor and counting the half empty glasses of water on your nightstand. If you knew Jimin was going to be in your bedroom tonight, you would have cleaned up. At least you didn’t leave your vibrator out in the open. You don’t think you’d recover from the embarrassment of that.

Jimin follows you to your bed, perching on the edge once you’ve settled back against your pillows.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t,” you respond immediately. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Then why did you run away?” he asks, pulling at his hoodie strings.

“I wanted to give you space. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You didn’t tell me what you were going through and I didn’t want to…” you trail off, unsure how to articulate just why you ran away.

“You didn’t want to embarrass me? Hurt my pride?” he asks, sarcasm evident.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “You don’t owe me an explanation. We aren’t that close.”

“That’s the problem,” he whispers. “I want to explain. I want to be that close to you.” He leans towards you, resting on his hands. He looks confident despite his current situation and it worries you a little. How can he be so sure of himself when he’s crashing on your couch and apologizing to you again for the fourth time in less than a week?

The Jimin you’ve gotten to know recently seems to disappear, leaving on the smooth talking playboy in his wake. He seems too calculated to be genuine. The words he whispers don’t seem like words meant for you. He is him, after all, and money or not he’s still the greatest catch on campus. And you, much to your dismay, are still just you. Unassuming, uninteresting, unexciting you. You’re the plain vanilla cone he’d never ask for if he had the means to get the banana split.

“Why?” you skeptically ask, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Jimin bites his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth while he thinks. “You’re special,” he says. “You’re cute and funny and I like spending time with you. You make me feel like I can be myself with you.”

“But you don’t trust me?” you ask, obviously referring to the elephant in the room. He didn’t tell you he was essentially homeless. How much of himself can he truly be if he was keeping that from you?

“I didn’t want to scare you away, and most girls I… see, don’t get close enough to find out,” he confesses. “I can’t afford to take anyone out right now. I haven’t been able to for a while. But I’m so close to getting enough for an apartment. That’s why I took the TA job; at the end of the semester I should be ready.”

“Jimin,” you start, unsure what to say. You’re still thinking about that goddamned three dollar ice cream cone you threw away.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he tells you, standing up. “I just wanted to be real with you, and thank you for agreeing to let me have the couch for a few days. I’ll let you sleep.”

“Wait!”

As you scramble over yourself to reach out, you find yourself on your knees awkwardly clutching your hand towards your chest. You’re still worried about seeming desperate but you can’t let that stop you now. Jimin turns toward you, but you’re unsure of what you wanted to say. You only know that you want to be closer to him too, that you’re not ready for him to go, that if he leaves now you’ll lie awake for the rest of the night reliving this short conversation.

“Stay,” you plead, nervously twirling the string of your hoodie around your fingers as you sit back against the pillows. “Talk to me?”

“Aren’t you tired?” he wonders.

You hold out your hand and he crosses the room to take it, standing next to your bed. You pat the space next to you and tug him toward it. “Wide awake.”

Your yawn says otherwise.

Jimin smiles, climbing over you to lay by your side on top of your blankets. He looks at you expectantly once he’s settled but it’s too much pressure for you to lead the conversation. You only know that you want to keep hearing his soothing voice. You have no idea what you wanted to say.

“You look cute,” he says, breaking the silence and touching your nose with the tip of his finger. “Sleepy and soft.”

“You look sexy,” you complain, waving his hand away. “I kinda wanna punch you for it.”

He throws his head back in laughter. “So feisty.”

“I can be boring instead,” you jokingly offer, rolling on your side to face him.

He does his best to keep his eyes trained on your face, despite the fact that all he wants to do is let them wander down. “I just want you to be you.”

That sounds fake. Again, you battle against the idea that this is all a farce, some sneaky way to get into your pants once and leave you wanting for the rest of your life. He hasn’t bared himself to you enough for you to trust him, so you pry.

“Why’d your parents cut you off, Jimin?” you ask.

He looks at you for a second, stunned at your boldness. That’s definitely not where he thought this conversation was going. He takes a moment to prepare his response and sighs.

“They have this restaurant. It’s a small place right off the coast: Jeongsik. My great grandparents started it from nothing and now my parents manage it. They want me to take over since I’m the eldest, but I want to move to the city and have my own life. I don’t want to work in their restaurant forever and my brother loves it and is perfectly capable. They love me. I know they’re just trying to teach me a lesson,” he tells you. He sounds unsure of that last bit. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that he’s got nowhere to live and he’s penny pinching for meals and they’re shunning him.

“And what is that lesson, Jimin?” you ask, trying to dig deeper before he slips back into playboy mode.

“That being a part of Jeongsik is my only option if I want to be successful. That I can’t make it without them.”

“Can you?” The question is quiet and unassuming. You only want to know how bad it really is.

He takes a deep breath and taps his fingers anxiously against the fabric of the pillow. “I can. It won’t be the same, it won’t be easy, but I can.”

After giving Jimin a moment to say more, which he doesn’t take, you push him further. With your heart on the line and this miracle of an opportunity with him in your room, you're determined to learn as much as you can. You need to get under his skin. You need to know him, so you can know if you should run.

"What's your plan then?" you question, shifting closer so you're face to face against the pillows.

Jimin smirks at your line of questioning. It seems to break him from his thoughts. “Well,” he begins. “The Village has some one bedrooms opening up at the end of the semester, and by then I’ll be ready to make a deposit and lease one. After that I’ve got one semester left until I graduate. Then I’ll move to the city and live my life how I want.”

“Won’t you miss your family?”

“They still talk to me. They’re just not paying for school. Or my car. Or my food.” His heavy sigh at the end contradicts the lightness with which he revealed all of this to you.

“I’m sorry, Jimin.” You reach for his hand, familiarity in the way it fits with yours.

“It’s okay. I have good friends, and I have…” he trails off, catching himself and looking away with an awkward huff of a laugh.

“What?” you wonder, heart fluttering at the possibility that he was about to say ‘you.’ “What else do you have?”

Jimin looks up at you, rising up on his elbow. His eyes search your face for any hint of rejection. When he finds only hope, his hand moves to cup your cheek. It’s warm, adorned with rings that contrast the temperature of his skin.

“You,” he breathes, moving closer. You watch his gaze dart down to your lips before your own eyelids flutter closed. “I was going to say you,” he confesses before he closes the space between you and lays a soft kiss against your waiting lips.

He pulls away way too fast, leaving you to panic in the aftermath. You thought you had feelings for him before, but now that he’s let you in, now that he has shown you his heart, there is nothing more to deny. You’ve fallen, hard. The realization makes you feel trapped, like a frantic dying bird in a cage. But your captor is kind and beautiful and the flavor he left on your lips is the most divine thing you’ve ever tasted.

“Then say it,” you prompt him, urging him to accept the affection you’ve been so desperate to give him.

He kisses you again in lieu of words, longer, deeper, until his tongue is dragging over yours. You fist the material of his hoodie in your hands, pulling him towards you while you turn on your back. He’s hesitant to get on top of you, afraid he might be taking it too far, but you’re insistent. You pull and he caves willingly, slotting a leg between yours and letting his hand drift from your cheek to the back of your neck.

“I like you,” he pants when he breaks away. It feels like your heart flies up out of your chest and does a lap around the room, flapping its hummingbird wings like the wild thing it is before it crashes back into its place.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” you plead. “You don’t have to pretend just because you’re here now. I’m a big girl. We can just have tonight.”

You say the words but you know if he leaves tomorrow, you’ll cry all day and probably the day after that too. The truth is, you can talk all you want about how you can do this no strings attached, but you know you can’t. Your strings are so attached to him at this point you might as well be metaphorical shibari.

“I mean it,” he whispers, full, wet lips brushing the side of your neck.

You freeze. You were expecting him to drop the charade and just fuck you or something, but in this moment he exudes tenderness and consideration.

“And because I like you, I think I should go back to the couch before we do something we aren’t ready to do.”

“Stay,” you plead. “We don’t have to do anything, just lay with me.”

He slowly nods and reaches over you to turn off the lamp, planting a soft kiss on your cheek as he settles back into place. You wiggle your form down into the covers and he smoothes the hair from your face before tracing his fingers down your arm. You lean in close enough to smell the subtle clean scent of his cologne. Is it cologne? You doubt it knowing what you know now, unless he’s borrowing it from someone else. You still find yourself enjoying it nonetheless. It’s comforting. Sleep begins to claim you just as he slips his fingers into yours and gives you a tiny squeeze.

“Goodnight y/n.”

You think you respond but you’re in that purgatory state between sleeping and being awake, so you can’t be sure. At least you’re eighty percent sure you gave him a squeeze in return.

That’s how Yoongi finds you in the morning: you tucked neatly into your comforter and Jimin laying on top of it beside you, your hands clasped together in the middle.

“UM!” Yoongi shouts from the doorway, loud enough to wake you both.

Startled, you sit up in bed and look around for the source of the shout. “Fuck! Yoon. You didn’t need to scream.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to keep this from Taehyung,” Yoongi chides, looking from you to Jimin and back. “That would be quite the moral conundrum.”

“For fuck’s sake. It was never Tae. I am not seeing Tae. We are JUST FRIENDS!” You yell the last two words and chuck your pillow at him for emphasis.

“Okay cool, then Jimin can explain to him whatever this is to him. Jimin, he wants you to call him. My phone’s on the table. I’m taking a shower.”

Yoongi disappears from the doorway and an uncomfortable silence settles over the room. In the light of day, you feel nervous and uncertain. Jimin does nothing to ease your anxiety. He just lays there quietly, unsure what to say.

“Do you want breakfast?” You try to smile and sound as chipper as possible.

He sits up finally and turns his back to you. “I should go see Taehyung.”

He moves toward the door and you feel your chest tighten. “Jimin?”

He turns to you from the hallway, and taking in your confused expression, offers you a smile. “We’re good, princess. I’ll be back tonight, then me and you: party time.” He winks before moving out of sight.

Alone once again, you start to question things. Everything. Are you imagining things or did Jimin seem cold when he left? He kissed you last night, didn’t he? Was everything you talked about too much? Does he regret kissing you? Does he regret staying the night with you without getting anything out of it? You can feel your thoughts spiraling out of control, but you can’t stop yourself from putting up the walls you so desperately wanted to keep down forever last night. It obviously didn’t mean anything to him, despite his claim that he likes you. He probably just meant that he’d like to fool around with you. Like he does with everyone else. You can’t let one night beside him make you think you’re special to him, no matter how badly you want to be.

Knowing you won’t make it through the day without driving yourself completely mad with questions and doubts, you dig your old phone and charger out of a drawer and go after Jimin. He’s leaning over the kitchen counter staring down at Yoongi’s phone when you steal his attention.

“Please take this,” you plead, thrusting the phone and charger towards him.

He looks from the device to you and blinks a few times in surprise. “What?”

“It’s a little old, but if your sim card didn’t get damaged I’m sure it will work in this. I kept putting off bringing it to be recycled.” You laugh nervously as you try to place it in his hand. “But now I’m glad I didn’t. Take it.”

“I can’t accept this, princess. It’s too much,” Jimin says, staring down at the object in your hands.

“Take it for me. If I have to go another day without being able to send you memes I’ll die.”

“Memes?” he repeats, sounding baffled.

“Memes, nudes, the weather forecast. Who cares? I wanna text you. Please take it.”

He licks his lips and smirks at your joke. Was it a joke? It’s hard to tell. He accepts it anyway. “Thank you. I’ll call you later?”

“You’d better,” you tease, offering the grandest smile you can manage before retreating with a slow saunter back to your room.

There’s that view again. He could watch your ass sway in those teeny shorts all day. It takes every last ounce of self control he possesses to pick up Yoongi’s phone and dial Tae rather than sprint back into your room and pin you to the bed. It doesn’t stop him from daydreaming about it though, even as his friend answers.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

“What are we doing?” Jimin stands in the sprawling living room of Taehyung and Jungkook’s shared apartment. Both are from wealthy families that are all too ready to give their sons everything that matches the silver spoons in their mouths. They’ve been blessed with a bachelor pad that looks more like a college movie set than anything normal one would find around campus.

“Pick up a controller,” Tae tells Jimin, completely absorbed in the race on their oversized flat screen TV.

Jungkook hasn’t even acknowledged Jimin’s presence yet. Focused doesn’t even begin to describe the way his eyes bore into the television. He doesn’t break from his trance until he wins. Only then does he sit back with a smug grin, dropping the controller in his lap and just barely resisting the urge to gloat.

Taehyung drops his controller too, turning to give Jungkook a congratulatory fist bump. “Take his place,” he says to Jimin.

Jungkook has already vacated his place on the hallowed futon and moved to the row of cup noodles sitting on the counter. The first cup is half empty before Jimin even sits down.

“I suck at these games, Tae,” Jimin grumbles.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to be good. It’s a ploy to get you relaxed enough to talk about y/n.” Taehyung smiles, knowing Jimin can’t refuse now that he’s cornered.

“What about her?” He feigns nonchalance, as if he didn’t just spend last night catching feelings along with your lips between his own.

Taehyung scoffs, half bewildered, half disgusted. “Come on, Jimin. She’s amazing. You like her.”

“I barely know her,” Jimin replies. It’s a lie he can taste like copper on his tongue. He knows your favorite food, where you grew up, what you study, and he’s already programmed your birthday into his borrowed phone so he won’t forget.

Taehyung clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Okay then. If you don’t give a fuck, I’m gonna shoot my shot. She’s funny, and nice, and her pussy is so bomb it makes me wanna get married, so if you’re not gonna do something about that then I will.”

Jungkook cackles from the kitchen. “Did you fuck Jimin’s girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” Jimin grumbles, staring daggers at Jungkook, just as Taehyung says that he did not.

Jungkook takes his armload of cup noodles into his bedroom.

“I know you like her,” Tae prods. “She’s not some materialistic bitch who’s gonna leave you if you can’t afford lavish dates every other day. She’s a good, genuine person. She just wants your time and your attention. Maybe your heart. She doesn’t care about the other stuff.”

“Yeah? So I can bring her back to this futon after I buy her dinner from the dollar menu?” Jimin’s nose starts to tingle, months worth of frustrations finally reaching a breaking point. “I can’t get in a relationship right now and you know she’s not a fuckbuddy kind of girl.

“Right, because I didn’t eat her out in my car for fun last week.” He’d date you in a heartbeat if you wanted him. But he knows it’s Jimin you want and he’s more than happy to push the two of you together to see you both happy. He values friendship above all things.

“If that’s all you want from her, fine. But I think you and I both know it’s not and she’s too good for you to string along. If you’re just gonna break her heart, do it now before she falls any harder for you.”

“Why, so you can swoop in and be the good guy again? So you can get her off in your backseat?” The words are venom dripping from his mouth.

“Bro.”

Jimin softens. Tae is his dearest friend. He knows he only has his best interests at heart.

“I’m sorry.” He pauses and sighs. “We talked about Jeongsik last night. She knows my parents cut me off.”

Taehyung grimaces. “How’d that go?”

“Now she knows I’m not good enough but it didn’t seem to deter her at all.”

“‘Cause you are good enough and now she can see your true worth as a person, which is a thousand times better than the fake worth of money.”

Jimin seems to consider this for a moment but then expresses the concern gnawing at his insides. “What if she really is just another person who wants to idolize me? I’m really into her, but I need it to be more than that.”

“Jimin—”

“What if she’s after the meaningless title of being Park Jimin’s girl... like every other girl that has pursued me lately?” The words make him cringe. He’s humble and kind, not one to throw bouquets at himself, but those thoughts are intrusive and hard to ignore.

“Tch. Do you know her at all? Do you really think that matters to her?”

“No,” Jimin sighs. “But what if?”

“She admires you. You like her. Stop making it so complicated and let go of those ifs. You’ll never know if you don’t try and I want to see you try because you deserve to be happy,” Tae insists, starting a new game. “Now pick up that controller. I wanna kick your ass.”

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

You’ve spent the better part of your Saturday afternoon picking out your outfit for tonight. Yoongi only teased you twice before helping you select something a little bit more slutty than you’d normally pull out for a date. You’re going to a party after all, not some Sunday brunch with your friends.

When it’s almost time for you to meet up with Jimin you find yourself growing increasingly nervous. You run your hand over your thigh and down your calf, testing for any stubble you might have missed in your meticulous hour-long shaving session. On your way back up you tug on your skirt, eyeing it as though your gaze can simply increase its length. When was the last time you wore this dress?

You adjust and fuss over the way your tits fit inside the garment and puff air out of your cheeks. Yoongi squints at you from across the room. Your door is wide open after all.

“Stop worrying so much.” He sighs and clicks his tongue, crossing the room until he can see you in perfect clarity. “You look great.”

“I feel stupid. I should change. Jimin’s gonna think I’m weird if I wear this.” You try to turn and run back to your closet.

Yoongi plants his hands on your shoulders and spins you back to face the full-length mirror hanging over your door. “Look at yourself. Jimin’s gonna think you’re the hottest one at the party. Look at that makeup game.” He gestures to your face. “Wooo! So strong! Wow!”

Your lips twitch into a smile. Yoongi can be so sweet when he’s not busy pretending like he isn’t the softest man on earth.

“What if he doesn’t actually want me?” you ask, strings of doubt still plucking at your insecurity.

“He does,” he says with all the comfort you need in this moment. “I can tell with these kinds of things, you know.”

“That your like, weird sage sense you’re always telling me about? Reading the horoscopes doesn’t make you a fortune teller.”

He laughs. “Don’t be jealous of my power. Have I been wrong before?”

He hasn’t been, at least not with the advice he’s given you.

You exhale a huge breath and cock your head to inspect your appearance one more time. “What if you’re wrong?”

He hums a soft sound before planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Then he’s an idiot.”

A knock saves him from the overbearing hug you’re about to give him. He practically sprints towards the door. “That must be him! Pull your skirt up a little, would you? You’re not a nun and it’s gonna ride up anyway.” He pauses with his hand on the deadbolt and drops his tone to a rather loud, strained whisper. “Wait. What underwear are you wearing?”

Your eyes widen and your brows furrow as you angrily march over to your strappy heels and begin to put them on. “Why does it matter?” you whisper back.

“Are they the beige ones?”

“No!” Your hushed tone threatens to break into a shriek. “You know those are my period panties.”

“Please tell me they’re not the green ones.”

“Yoongi!” You get frustrated and lift your skirt just enough to show off a bit of the black lace adorning your buttcheeks as you lift your foot onto the nearby stool to finish setting the strap in place. “Satisfied?”

He breathes a sigh of relief and nods. “Good. Those are good.”

He opens the door faster than you can register the action. Jimin catches the flash of lace and more skin than he’s meant to see as you swing your leg down off the stool and adjust your dress. Heat flushes your face as you meet Jimin’s gaze. His eyes are wide and he licks his lips before nervously clearing his throat. He nonchalantly drops his hands and holds them together in front of his pelvis.

“You-You look good,” he stammers, completely stunned by your appearance.

“Thanks,” you reply with a shy smile. Park Jimin gets flustered? Who’d have thought?

He thought you were beautiful before but he’s never seen you like this. You’re completely decked out and drop dead gorgeous. He’s almost worried he’ll feel inadequate standing next to you tonight but it doesn’t stop him from wanting you by his side, hanging on his arm. He wants everyone to know that he’s there with you.

The pair of you stand there looking at one another and Yoongi slowly turns from Jimin to you, then back to Jimin.

“Have everything?” Yoongi prods, trying to get you to move so he can get on with his evening of relaxation and lazing about.

That seems to break you from your stupor and you nod and walk forward to hook your arm around Jimin’s. Before you get too far Yoongi calls to you and tests your reflexes by tossing your keys. You’ll need those if Yoongi is dead to the world asleep by the time you get home, which is quite possible. You’re not the most dextrous person but Jimin catches them and smiles at you. When you try to take them from his fingertip he moves his hand away and you swipe at the air. He offers to keep them in his pocket and you gratefully oblige. You pull your phone from its confines against your breast and check on the status of your uber with one hand while slipping your other into Jimin’s.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Jin’s party is already in full swing by the time you arrive. It looks like something out of a movie. There are glowsticks, red solo cups, a buffet table of snacks, and loud music by the large inground pool. People inside and outside of this big ass frat house are grinding up on each other, dancing, and spilling their drinks on one another. It’s a little overwhelming honestly. You’ve never been much of a party person and this is a monster-sized one.

Jimin takes your hand in his and gives you a reassuring smile. “You want a drink, princess?”

“Yeah.” You grin and breathe a sigh of relief, feeling your insides melt at the sound of his voice. You know whatever happens tonight you’ll be okay with him by your side.

Jimin keeps you close all night, drinking and dancing and stealing the occasional quick kiss. It's pretty clear to everyone who's paying attention that there's something going on between you. You came with Jimin, you're there with Jimin, you're leaving with Jimin. Either Jungkook wasn't paying attention, or he just plain doesn't care. The moment Jimin leaves you alone to run to the bathroom, Jungkook steps up behind you in the chair you’re sitting on.

"Hey, y/n!" He smiles, all teeth and sleepy eyes. You can smell the whiskey on his breath when you turn to face him. "You look so pretty tonight."

"Thanks, Kook." You know he's one of Jimin and Tae’s closest friends. If you just hang with him until Jimin gets back, you'll be able to avoid the advances of all the weird guys here you aren't familiar with. "I like your boots," you tell him, looking down.

He follows your gaze to his feet. "Me too, I hope no one barfs on them tonight," he laughs, lifting his face back up to yours. The words are slightly slurred but you’re still able to decipher them.

His eyes definitely linger on your cleavage on their way back up. By the looks of it, he's on the short list of people who might end up barfing on those shoes. He holds his liquor well, but if you had to guess you'd say he's had more than he should have at this point in the night.

"So, I was talking to Taehyung recently," he starts with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The rest of his sentence seems to get lost in translation on the way to his mouth.

"And?" You smile at him and realize he’s probably too drunk to have anything of worth to say but you wait anyway.

"He told me something." Jungkook smiles so big his nose crinkles and he giggles like it’s the biggest secret in the universe.

You puzzle for a moment over what could have him so giddy before remembering that Taehyung is intimately familiar with your o-face. You'd gotten so close with him over the last two weeks that the details of your first time hanging out had completely slipped your mind. Jungkook is definitely about to say something crass.

"What did he tell you?" you ask, fearing you already know the answer.

Jungkook leans in closer so he can whisper in your ear. An amused giggle spills from his lips like he can’t contain the punchline to a joke only he knows. Somehow he gets his tone under control and finally speaks. "He told me your pussy tastes like heaven and what a coincidence," he pauses, "I haven't had dessert."

Jimin finds his way back to you just as you've moved to elbow Jungkook off your chair. Unfortunately, the alcohol in your system has your brain a little fuzzy and you misjudge the distance and location. You end up elbowing Jungkook right in the dick. Hard.

A circle clears around you as Jungkook doubles over in pain. Jimin steps up next to you, looking down at his friend and trying to piece together what might have led to you inflicting bodily harm.

Jungkook goes from bending over, to squatting, to laying on his side on the floor. He rolls onto his back still clutching the jewels despite the audience of people who have stopped to observe.

“I’m gonna throw up,” he squeaks out.

“Watch the boots,” you remind him as Jimin leans down to help him up and leads him towards something he can barf in. Through the crowd of people, you can see him just barely make it to a trash can in the kitchen. Gross.

Jimin gives Jungkook a pat on the back as he retches and reaches over him to grab a handful of jello shots off the counter. He returns with the rainbow of little cups clutched in each hand. The crowd seems to go back to their business of dancing and talking amongst one another, the random altercation just a fleeting moment in the night.

"What'd he do?" Jimin asks, holding his hand out to you so that you can make your selection.

"He came on to me." You shrug, picking a blue cup and popping the lid off.

"That's it? You elbowed him in the balls for hitting on you?" Jimin raises his eyebrows in shock and laughs.

"Well, it was kind of an accident. But," you pause to bring the plastic shot glass up to your lips, "he insinuated that he wanted to go down on me." You dip your tongue into the Jello and swirl it around the perimeter of its plastic casing.

Jimin watches you gather all the Jello up onto your tongue with rapt attention. He's growing so hard watching your tongue work like that. It’s driving him insane. He wants to feel it on him instead. He’s also now acutely aware of how badly he wants to swirl his tongue around your cunt, just like that.

"That makes two of us," he confesses with an enamored sigh. His hands are still full of Jello shots but that doesn’t stop him from holding your face between them.

He fiercely smashes his mouth to yours and you cave to the welcome intrusion of his tongue. It presses against yours, curling around it as he sucks the blue raspberry flavor from your mouth. You drop the empty cup to the floor and reach for his belt instead, pulling him against you until you can feel him pressed up against your stomach, hard and needy. He grinds his pelvis against you to be sure you can feel him.

“You feel that baby?” he asks, his tone low and sultry.

You grind back with a muffled hum. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re practically dry-humping each other next to the crowd of other sweaty, writhing couples. While Jimin likes how this feels, he’d like to regain the use of his hands. Jello shots be damned.

He pulls away for a second and looks around, depositing all but one of the unopened cups into the hands of the next person that walks by before he squeezes the chosen red one out on his tongue. He leans back in and presses his mouth to yours again. You can still taste artificial strawberry on his tongue. You're not even sure he swallowed before you started trying to lick his tonsils but you don't care. You want him now. You need him.

His thoughts are much the same as his free hand wanders down your back, dipping lower for just a second to feel the curve of your ass and squeeze. When you gasp he takes a step back and looks at you through hazy lust-drunk eyes. His lips are red from the gelatinous treat. You’d love to try and suck the color right out of them.

"Princess," he pants, his hands grabbing at your hips.

"Jimin," you breathe back, pulling him closer again. "Come home with me." It's not really an invitation. He'd be coming back with you anyway since he's currently living on your couch, but this has a different meaning and you both know it. It’s a plea for him to take you to bed.

You make out on the front lawn while you wait for the uber. You make out in the back of the uber on your way home. You make out on the way up the stairs and you leave a heart shaped love bite on his neck while he uses your keys to open the door. You make out pressed against the kitchen counter, and in the hallway.

Yoongi watches the pair of you act like he’s invisible as you stumble your way around the apartment. He has a spoonful of Fruit Loops half-lifted to his gaping mouth and finally takes his bite when you’ve made it to your room. Thank god you closed the door.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Jimin isn't as shy this time about laying his weight over you once you’ve dropped down onto your bed. You’re warm and he seeks the heat of your body as your hands explore the taught muscles of his chest. They dance around his belt, slipping up over the curve of his perfectly round ass so you can squeeze and pull him against you, inviting him to grind his solid cock into you. Your movements get slower and more focused when you unbutton his shirt. He tugs it off his shoulders and throws it to the floor before helping you pull that tiny excuse of a dress over your head.

You're thanking your lucky stars you had the foresight to put on a matching set, despite how foolishly hopeful it felt at the time. The way Jimin is drinking you in wrapped in nothing but a little bit of black lace is making your head spin, or maybe that's the alcohol.

He sits back on his heels beside you, trailing his fingertips from your throat to the valley between your breasts. He skims over your belly button then side sweeps over your hip and down your thigh, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

"Wanna take those heels off, princess?" he asks, scooting toward them on his knees.

"I can do it," you insist, planning on making a show of dropping what's left of your modesty. You aren't counting on the way the room turns when you stand up too fast. Luckily, Jimin's reflexes are quick and his hands on your hips steady you before you can actually fall. Standing up is also doing something terrible to your stomach. It rolls and clenches and your anxiety skyrockets.

Parties aren't really your thing, and while Jimin might be drunk he is damn good at controlling it. On the contrary, it's becoming increasingly apparent that you are completely hammered.

"You okay?" Jimin asks, concern dripping from his tone. He stands up and turns you both so you can sit on the edge of your bed.

"I think... I'm drunk," you confess, unable to explain why you suddenly feel like crying.

"I think you're right, baby," he agrees, squatting down to unbuckle the ankle straps on your heels. "Let's get you some water."

Your stomach flips again and time slows as you feel the contents of the evening rise in the back of your throat. Panicking, you look to Jimin with wide eyes and a hand flying up to your mouth. He spins around looking for anything to catch what's surely coming and upends your little trash can. Candy wrappers and old class notes fall to the floor. He thrusts the can under your face just as a rainbow of Jello shots and reappears.

"I'm so sorry," you cry between heaves, tears streaking your make-up down your face.

"Shhh," Jimin soothes, gathering your hair away from your face. When he's sure you've finished, he disappears from the bedroom with the offending trash can and you're left with your horrible, alcohol twisted thoughts.

He's going to think you're pathetic and disgusting. Why on earth did you think you could drink that much?

Jimin returns with a glass of water before you can get much further into your self-deprecation.

"You're never gonna fuck me now," you blabber, your filter lost. Your thoughts are a jumble of sadness and muddled lust.

Jimin laughs. "Well, I'm definitely not gonna fuck you like this. I didn't realize you were this drunk," he softly says. It's a caring statement, not even a little bit condescending.

You should be grateful that he wants you sober for sex, but it only makes you cry harder because you really just want him so badly and you're absolutely certain you've ruined your chances beyond repair. So, you do the only thing that makes sense right now and cry harder.

Jimin wraps his arms around you and leans close to your ear. "I want to, you know. I want to lay you down and touch you all over." He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck. "I want to taste you, feel you. I want to be inside you so badly, but not like this."

"Please," you whine.

"Sober up first, okay?" he coaxes. "Can I help you get some pajamas? Brush your teeth?"

"Okay," you sniffle.

Jimin smooths his hand up your back, tracing the black lace band of your bra with the tip of his finger. “Do you want to take this off?”

You nod, reaching behind you to unfasten the clasp while Jimin reaches down to the floor for the button down shirt he discarded. He averts his eyes while you shed your bra, then holds his shirt open for you. You slip into it but don’t bother to button it up before walking to your door. He helps you get to the bathroom but you insist on doing it yourself so you can clean up and assess just how fucked up you really look right now.

When you close the door behind you, he makes sure to quietly apologize to Yoongi, who is still scrubbing the trash bin Jimin brought out earlier. Yoongi reaches into the cabinet for the bottle of Advil and gestures to a glass of water already on the counter.

Jimin waits for you to open the door and when you finally do he's relieved that you haven't fallen asleep. You've washed the makeup from your tear-streaked face and brushed your teeth. You've even pulled your hair back so it's no longer in the way. You look at him through a hazy apologetic lens as he offers you Advil and water. The last thing you want to do is ingest anything but if it will help you in the morning, you'll try it for his sake.

The journey from the bathroom back into your room is a blur. All you can think about is crawling back into bed and sleeping this awful feeling away. You struggle with the covers for a moment until Jimin helps you slide underneath them.

"I'm sorry. Don't hate me," you plead in a weak voice.

"Why are you sorry? I don't hate you," he assures you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He's shirtless. He could have been naked pounding your pussy stupid if you didn't overdo it on the drinks. You hate yourself a little bit for botching this chance, but if he could just put his arms around you again maybe you’d feel okay, like you didn’t blow it.

"Will you hold me?" you ask.

“Of course,” he replies softly.

The light in the room disappears and the mattress sinks behind you. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and his fingers twine with yours.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers when you squeeze his hand.

The heat of his breath brushes against your neck but you don’t close your eyes. You’re too dizzy. Instead you focus on the soothing rhythm of his breathing until the weight of your eyelids wins out against the nausea and sleep finally claims you.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Your ringtone wakes you late, when the sun in your room is far too bright to be any time before ten. The sound is grating and irritating and you pull your pillow over your head to block it out. Jimin reaches for the phone, you can feel his weight shift and the heat of his skin when he hovers over you.

"Hello?" His voice is gruff and coarse with sleep.

Peeking out from beneath the pillow, you look over to him. His eyes are still closed and your phone is laying on his bare chest, speaker on and screen lit up.

"Gimme your bae," Jungkook's voice calls through the phone.

"She's sleeping," Jimin tells him. Looking in your direction, he meets your eyes and smiles.

You vaguely remember him making you drink more water last night, giving you Advil, and tucking you in. It's a very pleasant surprise to find that you aren’t horribly hungover.

"Wake her up," Jungkook whines. "Bro. She hit me so hard."

Jimin laughs. "You deserved it."

"I know," Jungkook agrees. "That's why I'm calling. Can I talk to her please?"

"You're on speaker."

"Hi, y/n. I got your number from Tae."

"Hi Kook," you croak.

"I'm sorry I was a douche last night. I get stupid when I drink whiskey."

"I accept your apology. Don’t do it again. How's your dick?" you ask, scooting closer to Jimin and laying your cheek on his chest. He wraps his arm around you and kisses the top of your head. The gesture makes you feel warm all over. He likes you.

"It hurts but I'll live. Sorry. For real. Do you guys wanna go eat later?" he asks you both.

Jimin answers this time. "Maybe. We have stuff to do first. I'll text you." He hangs up before Jungkook can say more.

“What stuff are we doing, hmm?” you question with a giggle, trying to play coy.

“Depends how you’re feeling, princess,” Jimin replies, leaning over you again to deposit your phone on your nightstand. He lingers above you, prompting the cautious exploration of your fingers on his chest.

Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the awful taste in your mouth. In fact, you feel gross all over. Not exactly the way you want to experience sex with Jimin for the first time.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you tell him, wiggling out from under his body. “You must think I am the worst, most unattractive human.”

“No,” Jimin says with a giggle. “I think you’re sexy and sweet. I really like you y/n.”

“Nobody likes me.” You scoff at him in disbelief.

“It’s rude to call people nobodies, don’t you think? Especially when they’ve just confessed their feelings,” Jimin teases, sitting up beside you.

“Well, let me at least brush my teeth,” you tell him, holding his shirt closed around you while you rise from the bed. You step around the clean trash can that’s been placed at the side of your bed thanks to Yoongi, noting that there is also a neat row of condoms on your nightstand and a note that reads ‘be done by 5 i wanna watch Dragonball Z after work.’

You laugh and quickly take care of your morning bathroom routine in record time so you can make use of Yoongi’s gift.

When you come back to your room, Jimin is watching you. His lips are drawn down in a pout, his eyes are half closed, and his chest, still bare, rises and falls heavily with each breath he takes as he rakes his eyes over your bare legs and up. His shirt hangs open on your body, leaving a strip of skin visible from your throat to your panties. He licks his lips when your fingers drag a slow line up that strip.

Parting the soft fabric further, you let it fall from your shoulders and pool around your feet. Jimin sits up for a better view and you wait for embarrassment to strike. It never happens. Instead, his gaze emboldens you. He looks wrecked already and he hasn't even touched you yet.

“So beautiful,” he whispers.

His assurance pulls you forward, one foot in front of the other until you’re close enough to touch and his hands are on your hips as you climb over him. He leans back under you as you push forward, connecting your lips with a force that borders on overeager. You can feel him smile against your lips and self-consciously, you will yourself to calm down. You have all day, there’s no need to rush.

When your kisses become soft and patient Jimin decides to take the initiative. He has to have you. He wants to be inside you. He sits up and sinks his hands into the flesh of your ass and begins to pull you down so he can grind up against your clothed cunt. When you moan his eyes roll back for a second and he buries his face into your neck to muffle the sound of his own. His tongue works in circles against you, giving you a taste of what’s to come before sucking a spot that has you burying your hand in his hair and grinding yourself down on him with need. He licks a hot stripe to your ear so he can whisper in it. In an instant he’s flipping you around on your back and grinding his pelvis against yours, allowing the dark desire to consume him.

“You like that, princess? You like feeling my cock on that sweet pussy of yours?”

“Yeah,” you whine, circling your legs around his hips. You can’t manage much more than that breathy reply, he is intoxicating and already you are drunk on his fumes.

“I hear it’s the sweetest. Made me so fucking jealous to hear Tae talk about you like that. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?”

“God did Tae just go around telling everyone?” you pause when the friction rubs against your clit just right. “Oh fuck,” you moan, imaging the pillowy soft press of his lips on your more intimate areas.

He chuckles in response. “No,” he assures you. “Just Jungkook and me. Don’t worry,” he says, persuading you with a careful roll of his hips that has his shaft parting your folds despite the layers of clothing between you. “He won’t talk about it anymore, and you’ll forget all about it by the time we’re done here. I’m gonna eat your sweet little cunt until mine are the only lips you remember.”

“Please,” you whimper, drawing him into a needy kiss.

His fingers dip into the band of your panties and he teases and tugs at them until you’re squirming and begging him to take them off. His lips trail wet kisses down to your breasts and he pauses to take your nipple into his mouth as he carefully works your last remaining piece of clothing down your legs.

Nudging your legs apart again, he settles between them, ghosting the pads of his fingers up the inside of your thigh as he drags your nipple gently with his teeth. He switches to repeat the action on the other side and cautiously slips a finger between your folds, parting them and testing your wetness. Much to his delight, he already finds you soaked.

“Jimin,” you breathe out. “Please.”

“Be patient for me, princess. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” He sits back on his knees between your thighs and uses his thumbs to smear your arousal over your lips. He groans something deep and tortured when he spreads them open.

“Y/n, holy fuck,” he whispers. “You’re perfect. So perfect.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at his praise. It feels like some kind of worship the way he looks down at your cunt, watching his fingers disappear inside you. His satisfied hum is like a hymn to the divine way your hot, slick walls squeeze him, a prayer to the mere idea of having that wet heat wrapped around his needy cock.

“Tae didn’t tell me you were so tight,” Jimin admits, looking up at you under his eyelashes.

“He only used his mouth,” you tell him, throwing your arm over your eyes. “I’ll never forget his lips if you keep talking about him.”

That seems to spark a fire in Jimin. His eyes grow dark and wild. He wants to ruin you. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh and begins sucking marks into the soft flesh while his fingers continue to pump inside of you. He slowly works his way down, making sure the red spots he leaves behind are sufficient enough to last for days. He makes sure you’ll have the reminder of his face between your legs every time you look down.

“Jimin don’t tease,” you beg, bucking your hips up to seek the warmth of his breath.

“I’m not teasing,” he chides. “I am savoring.” He curls his fingers and presses his thumb to your clit, making your legs jolt. “Trust the process.”

“Jimin--,” you start again, but you’re cut off by the first touch of his lips. It’s barely there, just the ghost of a kiss on your mound. It’s immediately followed by the flat of his tongue, pressing down as he moves it lower, slipping his fingers out as he descends. His tongue parts your folds instead, circling your dripping hole and then dipping inside it.

“Mmmmm,” he hums. “Fuck, you’re sweet.” He spreads you with his thumbs again and goes back for more, lapping at your wet cunt, swirling around your clit, sucking your folds into his lips. But it’s not just the action, it’s the drive behind it. He’s insatiable, moaning at the taste, bucking his hips into the mattress when you whine for him.

Your fingers tangle through his silver hair, twisting and pulling as he devotes himself to your undoing. He moves with you when you grind up against his jaw, stealing a glance up at your face. Jimin feels his cock twitch at the sight of you; breasts heaving, mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut. He’s leaking so much precum he can feel it soaking through his boxer-briefs. He’s almost afraid he’s going to lose it and cum in his pants.

“You gonna cum for me, princess?” he asks, lifting his face to push his fingers back inside. He pumps them hard, curling and searching for that elusive spot while he presses soft kisses to your clit. He alternates between flicking his tongue and rubbing against it with his lips, pausing every few seconds to whisper encouragements with warm breath puffed over your swollen bud.

“Come on, baby. Do it for me. Cum for me, princess. Let me taste it.”

“Please Jimin. Pleeeeease. I need you to suck it. Suck it harder,” you beg. “Right there. There! Don’t stop! Please! I’m so close.”

Jimin keeps steady for you despite your trembling thighs. He pounds your g-spot while he sucks as hard as you can take. Your mind goes totally blank, consumed by an orgasm so powerful you can see fireworks bursting behind your eyelids. Heat spreads from your core down your legs, up your spine.

“I’m cu— cumming— Jimiiiiin!” you cry, legs trapping his head like a vice. Your fingers leave his hair in favor of squeezing at your breasts as you ride out your orgasm. You buck your hips when he doesn’t let up after you’ve come down from your high.

“Take your pants off,” you pant, shoving at his head.

He finally pops off with a grin, his chin and lips covered in your slick.

“What if I’m not finished down here?” he teases, dipping his head back down to lick a stripe up your slit. Your whole body jumps when he touches your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Oh?” he feigns shock. “Sensitive?” he smugly asks, going back for one more taste.

“I wanna suck your cock,” you tell him, lazily pulling your legs up and turning your body away from him. You keep your eyes on him as you turn just enough to hang your head off the edge of the bed.

“Are you for real right now?” he asks, standing slowly. The tent in his pants is obscene.

“Please, Jimin. Just a little bit?”

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he sighs, tugging the zipper down on his jeans and letting them and his underwear fall to his ankles. He kicks them off and steps in front of you, smiling down at your upside down face, a little dumbfounded to have you wanting and willing to have him like this.

Your mouth waters at the sight of the swollen mauve tip standing at attention. He’s rock hard and so thick you’re not sure you can take him in your mouth, or your cunt for that matter. You’re glad he warmed you up with his fingers because you’re already clenching tight at the thought of that thick cock splitting you in two.

He reaches for the row of condoms as you take him in your hand and give him a few pumps. Just as he rips off one of the packets, you guide him towards the entrance of your mouth. You swirl your tongue against the tip and he drops everything, focusing on the way you tease him instead.

He inhales sharply. “Fuck. Who’s the tease now?”

You run your tongue along his shaft and smile when you get to the tip, giving it a quick kiss. “I’m savoring. What happened to trusting the process?”

He drags his lip through his teeth and clenches his jaw as you put his patience to the test but lucky for him you’re kind. He doesn’t have to wait long. You close your lips around him a moment later, reaching around his hips to guide him deeper, controlling the depth of his thrusts until he learns your limits and leans over you. With his hands on your breasts he rolls his hips. He can feel the tip of his cock bumping the back of your throat. He moans when you gag around him.

“That’s it, princess. Suck it. Just like that,” he praises.

Jimin is careful with his pace, and tender with his touch when he twists your nipples. He thinks he’s in control. He thinks he can take this just fine, despite the fact that your mouth feels fucking incredible. It’s when he watches you part your thighs and slip your hand between them to finger yourself while he fucks your mouth that he realizes he’s got none of the control he was so certain of. His balls tighten and he pulls out quickly and squeezes them, pinching at the tip of his cock and leaving you gasping for the breath you couldn’t catch with him in your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I need a second,” he huffs, eyes closed, standing perfectly still. He breathes slowly and deeply. If you could peek into his brain you’re sure you’d see any number of boring things trying to distract him from the image of you fucking yourself with your fingers while you sucked his cock. It’s futile. He’s certain he’ll see it in his dreams.

“Did I do something wrong?” you wonder, shuffling around so that you’re laying back on your pillows.

Jimin ignores your question. He knows you’re well aware he almost came in your mouth. “I need to be inside you like, now,” he says, picking up the condom again.

You watch him tear it open and roll it on with his one knee pressed into the mattress and his other foot on the floor.

"Come on then," you coax, opening your legs for him to crawl between.

He pushes two fingers inside you on his way up, dragging them out slowly and smearing your wetness around your pussy before he lines his cock up and sinks in to the hilt in one smooth press.

You gasp as he fills you, feeling the stretch of his girth, and he hushes your whimpering and brushes his nose against yours. "I'm sorry baby," he soothes. "I'll go slow." He seals the promise with a kiss before hiking your legs up high around his waist and wrapping his arms around you.

He lies still like this, waiting for the green light while he kisses you breathless. He moves to your neck when you break away to inhale, sucking more little bruises in the skin there. "Tell me when."

"Move," you moan. "Move. Fuck me."

Jimin pulls out slowly, leaving just the tip inside. He pushes back in just as slow, repeating the action several times until it looks like you're about to cry.

You need it so badly. It feels cruel to have him rocking so gently inside you when all you want is to be ruined by him. "Harder," you plead.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't make me beg," you whine.

"What if I want you to beg?" he jokes, dropping his hips against you. It's almost hard enough to satisfy you.

"Then I'll beg."

Jimin groans, dropping his head to your shoulder as he sets a brutal pace. He pounds into you, forcing the air from your lungs with his powerful thrusts, rolling his hips like his life depends on it. "You're so fucking good for me, princess. So tight. Feels so fucking good."

"Go faster," you tell him, grabbing a handful of his ass.

Shifting higher on his knees, he picks up the pace. Sweat beads on his forehead and over his lip. It beads in the dip of his cupid's bow and you lick it away before raking his bottom lip through your teeth.

“You feel my fat cock baby?" he asks. You moan in response pulling your legs higher so he can fuck you even deeper. "You like the way I fill you, don't you? Want me to fuck you full of my cum? Take it," he grunts. "You take it so fucking well. You gonna cum for me again, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts.

Jimin pulls out when you start to clench, not quite edging you but stealing the pleasure you were high on nonetheless. You whine at the loss of him, walls fluttering wildly around nothing.

"Can we try something?" he asks, lifting your legs and putting them to the side.

"What did you have in mind?" you wonder. You reach for his cock but he's already moving, nudging at your hips until you turn.

"Up on your knees for me, princess," he instructs. He kneels behind you once you're in position and smooths his hand up your spine, guiding you gently down onto your elbows. “Is this okay?”

“It’s good,” you assure him, wiggling your hips a little to get him moving again.

He teases your slit with the tip of his cock, dragging it through your folds and rubbing it against your clit. Finally, he pushes back inside you, coaxing a fresh wave of arousal with the stretch of his girth. It’s deeper like this and impossibly you feel even more full than you did before.

“Oh, Jimin,” you sigh, dropping your face into your folded arms. “Jimin.”

“Good?” He folds himself over you, pressing his chest to your back and sliding his hands from your hips to your breasts.

You thrust yourself back into him as you answer. “Perfect. You?”

It takes him by surprise but he follows your lead. He drives himself into your cunt while massaging your breasts and kissing your back. “Fuck, y/n…” he moans, letting his teeth drag over your shoulder before he bites down.

You hiss at the sting and he soothes it with his tongue and puckered lips.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous taking my cock like this. Feel how deep I am. You’re squeezing me so tight, baby.”

“Jimin? Jimin, I need—,” you gasp out between thrusts.

“What, princess? What do you need?” he questions, releasing a breast to play with your clit instead. “Want me to pull your hair? Want me to fill you with my cum?”

“I wanna ride you.”

“Oh, fuck.” Jimin pulls back immediately.

He lays down beside you and grabs at your waist, guiding you over his cock and holding on tight as you drop your weight and take him completely. Swiveling your hips, you set a pace slow and steady. Jimin’s thumbs rubs soft circles into your skin as you move.

“Go faster,” he urges, unable to keep his hips from rising to meet yours.

You shake your head ‘no’ and continue with your slow rolling pace.

“Please, y/n. Ride it like you wanna cum with me.”

Smirking devilishly, you slow down even more and lean over him with your hands on either side of his head.

He looks down, watching your breasts sway and the way his cock disappears over and over.

“Fuck, y/n. PLEASE,” he whines, roughly grabbing your hips and pounding up into you.

Your startled laugh quickly turns into desperate cries of his name. His cock hits your g-spot directly. It feels so good you don’t even think you need him to touch your clit to make you cum. But he does. He pinches your bud between his fingers while he slams into you, growling and moaning and begging you to cum with him.

“I’m close,” he grunts, licking his fingers and rubbing furiously at your clit.

“Me too,” you whine. “I’m gonna—”

You don’t have time to finish the thought as he takes you over the edge with him. He slams his head back against the pillows as he pumps his hips and cums to the wild pulsing of your orgasm. Your cunt milks every last drop from him and you cry his name, clutching his wrists and letting your head fall back so you can wail your pleasure at the ceiling.

Jimin gasps, picking up his head to look down at how your pussy spreads open around him. Your slick cum coats the condom and his mouth waters, remembering the sweet tang of your taste. You’ve barely stopped grinding on him when he sits up to push you down on your back.

Pulling out, he kneels beside the bed and pulls you to the edge by your legs so he can gently lick you clean. He exhales a hot and heavy breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up to peel the loaded condom off his softening cock.

“That was… wow,” you pant, staring up at the ceiling for a moment as you try to regain your breath.

He’s already back at your side, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you towards his chest.

“Yeah,” he agrees while softly combing his fingers through your hair. He’s tired.

You smile against his sweaty chest and plant a soft salty kiss against him. Through the corner of your eye you see the row of untouched condoms on your nightstand. “We’ve got a lot left. Wanna go again?”

He hums a deep throaty sound and laughs when your hand falls to his limp cock. “I want to, but I need a bit to recharge. I can make you cum again while we wait. Do you want that, baby?”

“I always want that. But you don’t have to.”

The groan in his throat sounds croaky as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “I want to.”

He reaches down to wedge his fingers between your thighs and your whole body jumps at the sensitive sensation. How dare your body betray you in this moment?

“Seems like you might need time to recharge too,” he teases while nuzzling against the top of your head and squeezing you in a warm embrace against him. “I’m okay with just laying here and holding you.”

“Yeah?” You smile and cross your leg over his to get more comfortable. “Mmm. You can always help me study for the next test while you’re here.”

Laughter bubbles from his throat. “Are you trying to seduce me for answers to the exam? You know I don’t grade them, right.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, barely containing your giggles as you look up at him. “I don’t think I need to seduce anyone for answers. My head feels a little clearer now.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” he prods while playfully ghosting his fingers down your side.

“Because I know I can be distracted outside of class now instead. I mean, if you wanna keep doing this,” you explain while nervously drumming your fingertips on his chest. “I know I’m not anything special, but—”

Jimin lifts your chin and pulls you into a deep kiss. “You are,” he whispers when he pulls away.

You lick your lips and blink a few times. “I was gonna say you make me feel like I am the most special vanilla ice cream cone on the planet.”

His shy, warm smile fills your stomach with butterflies even as he makes his joke. “Want me to lick you up?”

“And so much more.”

It’s a weighted confession. You sit up to look at him so he knows this. He purses his lips and casts his away. He was avoiding this conversation.

“I don’t know how much more I can give you. I want to be what you deserve, but things are so hard right now. I don’t know that I can be someone who’s good enough for you. You deserve to be showered in gifts and taken on dates. You deserve to be given flowers every day. I don’t even have a car to take you somewhere for a vacation. I’m not sure I can be what you want.”

“Just be yourself,” you state plainly, cupping your hand around his jaw. “That’s what I want. So far I like the person I see. I like you, the real you.”

“I like you too,” he blurts, eyes snapping back to meet yours. “But I can’t afford—”

You press a finger to his lips. “I don’t need expensive dates or fancy gifts. I don’t need you to take care of me— well, last night was the exception and you didn’t need money for that. I just want you to be with me. Talk with me. Spend time with me. Maybe have lots of sex? I don’t know, we can figure out the rest later.” You laugh, embarrassed by your own boldness.

“You see everything that I am and you still want me.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing. Now I know for sure you’re too good for me. But,” he pauses and slips his hands into yours, “I want to keep seeing you. I like talking to you and the more time I spend with you, the more certain I feel about the choices I’ve made. No one’s ever made me feel so free. I want to hold onto that feeling. I want to hold onto you.”

You tell yourself not to cry as you straddle his waist and hover above his lips. “I’m yours then. Are you mine?”

He catches your lips between his and buries his hands in your hair. “I’m yours.”

[peachyteez]

lost puppy ≫ DAY FOUR, CONFRONTATION

being abandoned by your owners is never fun. but yunho takes it as a chance to explore the world as his owners were never the kindest people. having wandered around jiyu’s condo, seonghwa discovers the lost puppy and said puppy is offered a second chance at a place to call home

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @choisaniskillingme, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @danibookmarks, @chanyeolol, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha

can’t be tagged: @koasworld

feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to the list! :)

✧ notes: things get a lil intense, oops. she might me a lil lengthy hehe.

✧ WARNINGS: mentions of abuse, whip marks, and blood, indirect mentions of sexual activities, degrading names (mutt, bitch)

back。| next。

"jiyu, it’s eight in the morning on a saturday, why are you up so early?” seonghwa asked as he padded out to the kitchen in his pajamas. he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes as he took a seat on the stood next to jiyu’s at the kitchen island. 

"i’m just trying to see how i can legally remove yunho from his current home,” she yawned. “he may have ran away, but his owners technically still have custody of him.”

the two were engulfed in silence. the only sounds that could be heard was jiyu typing on her laptop. “is that who you were giving the food to?” jiyu suddenly asked.

seonghwa’s eyes widened. “how did you know i gave him food?” he asked. he doesn’t remember ever mentioning about it too jiyu.

“ms. kim saw you a few days ago going out with a bag of food,” jiyu chuckled. “don’t worry, i was just curious. i knew something was on your mind for the past few days, but i didn’t want you to feel entitled to have to tell me everything so...”

seonghwa thoughtfully nodded. “he was hanging around the dumpster alley,” he revealed, making jiyu slightly gasp.

“poor thing, i wonder how long he’s been there,” she mumbled as she continued reading up. she bit her lip as she read. “is he still asleep?” she asked, looking up to seonghwa, who softly nodded in response.

she pursed her lips in thought as she closed her laptop. “i guess we can take him shopping for a few pairs of clothes later today,” she thought aloud. suddenly, she remembered a question seonghwa had asked her a few days ago. would you be okay with another one? was he talking about yunho?

“hey, hwa,” she called out to the hybrid next to her. “were you talking about yunho when you asked me about another hybrid the other day?” she asked.

seonghwa bit the inside of his cheek before meekly nodding. jiyu softly smiled. “i don't mind,” she said, making seonghwa snap his head towards her out of surprise.

“really?” he thought he heard her wrong.

jiyu nodded. “my only concern now is that this apartment might be too cramped for the three of us,” she chuckled. “i think the previous owner moved out of the penthouse last month, and as far as i know, no one moved in yet,” she recalled. “if anything we can just move there if i can get custody of yunho.”

seonghwa’s tail excitedly started wagging as he smushed jiyu into a hug. “i have another friend now!” he cheered as he rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. a smile was spread across his face.

she chuckled as she reached up and scratched his head. “come on, let’s go get yunho so we can get breakfast and shop around, yeah?”

half an hour and five failed attempts later, the three were all ready to go out. yunho had to borrow seonghwa’s clothes again, although he protested and said he could wear his own. jiyu insisted since his old clothes had some holes and rips from his life on the streets.

“okay, let’s go get coffee then we can shop around for some clothes for yunho. sounds good?” she asked the two hybrids in the backseat. 

yunho cocked his head in confusion. “why would i need clothes? i thought you said i can borrow seonghwa’s clothes.”

drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she turned around in her seat to face the two. “yunho, how about you live with us once if i can remove you from your owners’ custody?” she offered. 

yunho blanked out, thinking he was daydreaming. “pardon?”

jiyu softly smiled. “you and seonghwa already seem to have grown attached to each other. plus, i don’t feel right sending you to a shelter after all this is over,” she explained. “we’re not forcing you, it’s just a suggestion so don’t feel pressured to accept. we’ll understand if you turn down the offer,” she said before starting the car. “but you’ll still need some clothes just in case.”

yunho stared out the car window throughout the whole wide to the cafe. him? living with jiyu and seonghwa? can he really do that? can he really risk it to try and live with another owner again? endless thoughts floated around his mind. he was so deep in thought, he didn’t realize that jiyu left the two in the car as she went in to get her coffee. 

seonghwa waved a hand in front of yunho’s face. “earth to yunho,” he called out. 

yunho snapped out of his thoughts as he looked around. he sheepishly chuckled. “sorry, i was just thinking...”

“about our offer?” seonghwa asked.

yunho slowly nodded. seonghwa understood his hesitance. after living with abusive owners for who knew how long, he knew yunho’s reservations and hesitance about living with another human. heck, he had the same thoughts while in the recovery center. 

“she’s different,” seonghwa mumbled as he peered into the coffee shop at jiyu. “did you know she saved me from being put down?”

yunho’s eyes slightly widened in surprise at the revelation. seonghwa humorously laughed. “to be honest, i was like you about a year ago. ran away from my...owners and became a stray until stray patrol found me and handed me over to the recovery center.” seonghwa didn’t know what compelled him to share his life story with the golden retriever, but he thought he could offer him solace if he revealed how similar the two were. “my old owners weren’t the best people either. they used me like a toy for their pleasures and whenever i tried fighting back, they returned the fight twice as hard.”

seonghwa craned his neck and slipped his collar down a little to show yunho the damage. yunho gasped. he noticed a maze of whip marks on the wolf’s neck that snaked down farther down his back. seonghwa sighed as he continued. “sometimes i’d even be stuck laying in their basement bleeding out. if they felt nice, they'd send someone to patch me up. other days...i did it myself.”

yunho went silent. it was at that moment he realized that they were, indeed, more similar than he had thought. the only difference was that seonghwa received the help he needed, whilst he was still wandering around with no destination. 

“that’s why when i say she’s trustworthy, she really is.”

at that moment, jiyu came back. “sorry guys! the wait took a little longer than expected, but i got you guys drinks, too,” she said before handing them each two cartons of banana and strawberry milk. 

seonghwa’s eyes sparkled and his ears twitched in happiness at the drinks, while yunho stared at the drinks as if they were treasure. “thank you...” he gratefully said before glancing at seonghwa, who was happily sipping from his carton. he seemed so different. no one would’ve ever thought that he went through years of both physical and mental abuse from the smile on his face at that moment. maybe there’s a chance for me, too?

half an hour later, they came to a little shopping mall in the middle of the city. yunho’s eyes sparkled with fascination as they walked through the various stores. he sometimes was so distracted that seonghwa would have to come back and drag yunho with him so he wouldn’t get lost. jiyu chuckled. he looks exactly like seonghwa. she noted.

despite yunho’s protests again, jiyu and seonghwa eventually convinced him to pick out outfits. yunho’s eyes bulged out when he read the price, but jiyu insisted it was alright and he was free to chose whatever he wanted. seonghwa and jiyu waited while the golden retriever went to try on the clothes. pursing her lips, jiyu realized that they would really have to find a larger place if she wanted to house both seonghwa and yunho. 

“excuse me.”

turning around and snapping out of her thoughts, jiyu noticed a man and woman standing behind her and seonghwa. they seemed to be a little older than jiyu, maybe late twenties. despite them dressing casually like a normal person, jiyu could recognize wealthy people from a mile away—their haughty aura and tone gave them away pretty quick, not to mention how they both sported gucci watches. 

she plastered a fake smile on her face. she's dealt with plenty of condescending ceo’s and their wives during company parties. “hello, may i help you?”

the woman gave her a sickly sweet smile. “we couldn't help but notice a golden-retriever hybrid you had with you a while ago.” jiyu tensed. yunho.

“does this look okay—”

coming back from the dressing room, yunho froze when he noticed the man and woman talking to jiyu. all color drained from his face, giving jiyu the confirmation she needed. they were his owners. 

the man plastered on a fake smile as he walked past jiyu and seonghwa towards the trembling giant puppy. “there you are yunho! did you know how worried we were about you?” he asked, his eyes glaring at yunho despite his friendly tone. he reached out towards yunho. “say thank you to the young lady and let’s go—”

jiyu lunged forward and smacked the man’s hand away before he could grab yunho. she protectively stood in front of yunho and coldly glared at the couple. seonghwa and yunho’s eyes widened at her actions. “don’t touch him,” she warned.

the man scoffed and glared down at jiyu. “he’s our hybrid and we have the right to take him back home with us. so unless you want legal actions against you, then hand him over right now.”

yunho winced whilst seonghwa started growling at the couple. the woman stared back at seonghwa with disgust. “and learn to train your hybrid better! don’t you know any manners?” she taunted jiyu.

by this point, they were already attracting a crowd. 

jiyu humorlously laughed. “you’re one to tell me about manners, miss. you can’t even treat your own hybrid with care and respect,” she retorted. 

the man grew red with anger. “young lady, unless you want a lawsuit against you for theft of property, then hand him over. we have witnesses, you know,” he smirked, gesturing to the crowd around them. 

jiyu clenched her hands into fists as she felt her angle almost burst at the seams. theft of property? they really view him as an object?! glancing at the people around them, she noticed them whispering amongst themselves while some were recording the whole scene.

the woman rolled her eyes as she gestured to yunho. “yunho, darling, come to us. now.” her tone was hard and demanding. yunho hesitated, glancing at the younger girl in front of him. she glanced back at him with determined eyes.

gritting her teeth at yunho’s disobedience, the woman reached out towards yunho. “yunho, you useless mutt! what did i say—”

at that moment, something snapped in yunho. eyes hardening, he started to growl, making the woman freeze in her tracks. “no.” he firmly stated as he looked at his “owners”. “i’m not going back with you.” he glared. 

jiyu and seonghwa were surprised at his change of character. he was no longer the shy and smiling puppy. he now had the most intimidating glare, his eyes burning with hatred for the couple in front of him. 

the man exploded as he focused back to jiyu. he had enough. “do you know who we are?! we’re the ceo’s of star enterprise, and we can ruin your life with a snap of our fingers—”

as the man continued with his threats, seonghwa protectively stood in front of both yunho and jiyu. he towered over the couple, growling as a warning. the man gritted his teeth, slightly stepping back from seonghwa. 

“star enterprise?” jiyu mused at the familiar name. she remembered her father mentioning to her about how he had acquired their company. she smirked, realizing she had the upper hand. “then you don’t seem to know who i am.”  

the woman scoffed. “excuse me? you’re just a little bitch that—”

“does jiyu hwang ring a bell?”

suddenly, the man and woman’s eyes widened at the name. of course they knew who she was. she was the daughter of their acquirer, hwang enterprises. color drained from their faces at the sudden revelation. 

she walked around seonghwa and stood her ground in front of the couple. “i’ll make this short. i have proof of the both of you abusing this poor hybrid. now, we can make this simple and you can give me custody of him, and i won’t tell my father about any of this,” she smirked seeing their somewhat terrified expression. she knew how much they needed her father’s help in the industry. “unless...you want to wake up tomorrow morning with half of your stocks gone and your names labelled as hybrid abusers on an article. 

the man stumbled back. he had heard rumors of how ruthless hwang enterprises could be if you messed with them. now, he was witnessing it first-hand. unlike her husband, the woman still tried challenging jiyu. she scoffed. “you little bitch. you think you can threaten us using your father’s—”

“shut up, unless you want us bankrupt by tomorrow morning,” her husband hissed.

the woman was flabbergasted. “but—!”

ignoring his wife, he plastered a fake smile on his face as he bowed. “our apologies, we didn’t realize it was you, miss hwang!” 

jiyu fought the urge to roll her eyes at his switch of personality. “it’s fine.”

“although i’m quite unsure about why you want such a useless mutt, we can definitely hand him over. you’ll have the papers by tomorrow morning!” he said, trying to suck up to the younger female after his and his wife’s fatal mistake. 

jiyu plastered a smile. “i’ll be expecting them,” she curtly said before grabbing seonghwa and yunho’s arm to drag them away from the crowd. “and you should know, the hwang’s don't appreciate tardiness or lies.”

she pulled the two far from the whispering crowd and humiliated couple. seonghwa and yunho were shocked. that wasn't the jiyu they knew—it was like she was a completely different person. 

“oh my god, what did i just do?” she squealed when they made it back to the car. she face-planted onto the wheel as the other two climbed into the backseat. “i’m an idiot!” she berated herself.

“u-um...” yunho hesitantly spoke up. “are you okay?” 

she sighed. “yeah, i’m fine. are you okay, though?” she worriedly asked as she peered back at him. her normal, worried self was back. 

yunho nodded as he looked down, fiddling with his fingers. “t-thank you f-for that,” he mumbled. no one has ever done something like that for him. and it made him realize that maybe, just maybe, the universe was giving him a second shot at a place to call home.

she softly smiled before gently patting his head. “of course, yunho.”

“i think...i’ll take up your offer,” he shyly said, making jiyu and seonghwa grin. seonghwa cheered as he embraced the puppy. 

jiyu smiled. “welcome to the family, yunho.”

yunho grinned. “also, please remind me to never get on your bad side.”

seonghwa nodded. “that was cool, but scary.”

jiyu pouted. “i’m not that that scary, i promise!”

as the two teased her on the way home, jiyu gripped the wheel a little tighter. she never intended to show that side of her to them. as a matter of fact, she never intended to show anyone that terrifying side of her. the moment she left the main house, she locked that side of herself away forever, or so she thought.

as much as she hates to admit, she and her father shared many similarities—and their ruthlessness was one of them. she hated that side of her. discreetly glancing at the rearview mirror, she saw seonghwa and yunho laughing with each other.

that was when she knew she was different. while her father used his ruthlessness for money and power, she used it to protect her loved ones. she would do anything to keep them safe, even if it meant showing them glimpses of that side of her again.

“but now we have another problem,” she realized.

the hybrids cocked their head in confusion at her words. she sheepishly chuckled. “we’re gonna need a bigger living space.”

[deepeststarfishsong]

Bet

Written for @helianthus21, @pray4jensen, & @bend-me-shape-me‘s #SPNStayAtHomeChallenge 27/04 Monday 4. Bet.

Cross-posted to Ao3.

This may or may not portray my own sentiments on floral bouquets...

"Yes, Sam. I understand that it is traditional. I still find giving cut flowers as a gift of affection to be counterintuitive.” Cas shook his head in frustration as he watched yet another grainy commercial for a bouquet delivery salon in the little South Carolina town they were currently stuck in. 

Sam laughed, “I’m sure it made sense when it began, but you know how sentimental humans are, Cas. Giving flower bouquets is one of the expectations of Valentine’s Day. It’s how you show someone you love them.”

Dean watched Cas and Sam argue the point, back and forth like a tennis match. Cas sat on the far bed watching the television with rapt attention and Sam laid sprawled across the nearer bed, laptop balanced on his chest while he half-heartedly conducted research. Why this of all topics was the one they latched on to he may never know. He shook his head and did his best to stay out of what was a pointless conversation, returning his attention back to the little table where his gun was disassembled and half oiled. Chuck, give me strength.

“What part of giving flowers do you take objection to, Cas?” Sam was not letting this one go.

“It just seems so bleak,” replied Cas, tilting his head while he considered his answer. “How does one convey affection or love with what are essentially dying flowers.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess you have a point,” Sam shrugged. “According to Lord Google, giving flowers began in the middle ages as representative meanings based on flower types, like a secret language. It says here that Rhododendrons imply danger and that tulips are a declaration of love.”

“A rather depressing secret language,” Cas muttered to himself. “From the moment they are cut, they begin to wilt and die. How does that portray feelings of warmth? Here is a gift representative of my love for you… dying…? I just do not understand the appeal.”

“Well we can’t all have Dean’s positivity when it comes to Valentine’s Day,” Sam nodded towards Dean, giving him a grin. “What is it you celebrate? ‘Unattached Drifter’s Christmas?’”

“Damn straight,” Dean replied more to himself than Sam.

--

“I don’t think I will have occasion to receive such a gift, regardless,” Cas voiced to the car. They had just finished up interviews at the County Sheriff’s Office and were heading back to the motel to regroup. Dean sighed audibly. Here we go again.

“I don’t know about that, Cas. You just have to meet someone special.” Trust Sam to come through with the unwanted Hallmark moment from the backseat where he couldn’t be reached to smack quiet.

“Yes, perhaps.” Dean couldn’t be sure but Cas sounded sad.

Once they reached the motel, Dean had volunteered to go for takeout. Sam had agreed immediately, thoughts already on getting his loafers off and jumping in the shower. Cas followed behind him, the flowers since forgotten and his attention turned back to the case. Dean could hear them spitball theories as he drove out of the parking lot.

--

“You should tell him, Cas,” Sam said as soon as the door was closed behind them.

“Tell who what, Sam?” Cas blinked at him in confusion.

“I know I give him a lot of shit for being an emotionally bankrupt horndog, but behind all of that, Dean’s actually a pretty decent guy. And he cares--even if he doesn’t know how to say it.”

“What exactly am I supposed to be saying to him?” Cas eyed Sam with less confusion than his voice implied.

“The truth, Cas,” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“I have been honest with Dean, even if I chose to limit the aggregate that I tell him. I have not lied.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been omitting something pretty big. I get it, man, I really do. I know you don’t want to risk your friendship, but I really think that he would surprise you if you told him. He cares, Cas.”

“It’s far too great a risk, Sam.” Cas looked defeated. “Dean has no preference for bodies like this… male vessel.” He gestured at himself. “And he certainly has made every declaration towards maintaining an autonomous relationship status.”

Sam wasn’t sure how to get his point across. He was the one that had to sit there and watch the two of them dance around this shit. Sooner or later, something had to give. “Cas…”

Cas’ face fell and he slumped into the chair, hanging his head. “He doesn’t think of me that way, Sam.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Sam lingered for a moment, considering Cas before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

“I am not a gambling man, Sam…” Cas whispered to himself. “There’s just too much to lose.”

--

On his way back with dinner, Dean dialed up Sam and propped the phone in the crook of his neck. “Hey dude. You wanna run up to that liquor store and buy a handle? I’m about outta cash and this card is barely going to clear the room.”

Sam, on the other end, ruffled his still-damp hair with a towel. “Yeah, I can do that. It’s like a block and a half away. I’ll just walk, don’t worry about picking me up, just get back here with the food while it’s still hot.

“Yeah yeah,” Dean replied as he clicked his phone closed. Dean pulled up in front of the motel and killed the engine. He gathered up his duffel and the takeout that the restaurant had kindly nestled into a big cardboard box. Maybe he over-ordered but better safe than sorry, right?

He managed to wrestle the door open one handed and set the food down on the little tabletop. Dean could hear the shower running, Cas must’ve decided to wash off the desert sun. Dean busied himself with unpacking dinner, fighting with cheap chopsticks, and rooting around in his duffle. When he ran out of things to fuss with, he decided to hell with it and grabbed his container to sit down in front of the television.

As Dean got comfortable, the bathroom door cracked open and Cas poured out trailed by a thick layer of steam. “Did you leave any hot water for me?” Dean quipped.

“Yes of course I did, oh,” Cas stopped short when he looked at the bedside table. Next to Cas’ duffle sat a tiny gray and gold ceramic pot filled with living, red tulips. “Dean?” Cas turned to him in confusion.

“You can’t be sad about them since they’re alive, but you’ll probably have to take ‘em out of that tiny pot and plant ‘em when we get back home,” Dean explained, eyes flicking up to Cas’.

“But, I… Dean…” Cas looked back and forth between Dean and the flowers. Dean set his untouched food aside and stood, closing the narrow space between them.

“Do you like them?” Dean gave a tiny smile and Cas was instantly reminded of a small child asking if he did good.

Cas looked back at the tulips again and a smile crept across his face. He looked back to Dean unsure how to convey just how much he loved them, only to find Dean pressing close and running his fingers along Cas’ chin. “Dean…” Cas began.

Dean cut him off with a brush of his lips that began light but intensified as he felt Cas relax into his touch. Cas reached up to wrap an arm around Dean’s neck pulling him closer. Dean countered by sliding an arm around Cas’ waist, holding him steady.

The sound of the door opening startled them and pulled their attention away. Dean reflexively grabbed for his gun with his free hand, but continued to hold Cas close. Dean lowered his gun as Sam pushed the door open with his foot and closed behind him, setting a handle down on the table from one hand, and a case of beer from the other. Sam looked up at them startled, taking in the situation. His eyes caught the red potted bouquet behind the two, and he let out a laugh. He looked at Cas squarely, “About time. Some bets are a sure thing.” Dean, to his credit, ignored the bait and turned his back to Sam to press another soft kiss against Cas’ lips.

[purplesurveys]

1085

survey by -egocentricity-

On Myspace, what was in the last bulletin you posted? I haven’t been on Myspace for well over a decade; and even when I was there I didn’t have any friends added nor did I remember ever posting anything. Friendster and Multiply were a lot more popular.

When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? I took a selfie last Saturday in the dining room. It’s of me holding up the vape pen that Andi lent me for the meantime to show Angela, since she wanted to see what it looked like.

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? I remember being lightly chided once when I was like, 7 – I was leaning on a glass wall of a store in the mall, so the guard from that store nicely told me to get back up to be safe. Overall, I don’t think I’ve ever exhibited behavior in public that should’ve gotten me into trouble.

How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? Definitely not so much these days. I need to keep being preoccupied with work or other things to do/accomplish since my daydreaming always seems to end with thinking of scenarios that now upset me, like, idk, happier times with my ex. I’m tired of letting that happen and always being upset in the end, so I try to avoid getting lost in my thoughts anymore.

What's your favorite thing to think about as you're falling asleep? Idk about you but thinking in general keeps my mind up and racing lol, so when I’m trying to sleep I do my best to black out my mind so that I can doze off.

Is there anything that you want to do, but won't because you're too afraid? So I went to college with this girl - I believe she’s several batches older - who, as soon as she graduated, set out on a hitchhiking journey across the world. She’s been doing it for four years, and I believe she has finally made it to Europe after being stuck in Kazakhstan for a year due to Covid. She’s amazing and her spirit is so fucking beautiful. She has a Facebook page that I actively follow detailing her experiences; but as great as her journey has been, I don’t know and I highly doubt that I can set out for such a demanding, commitment-heavy challenge myself.

Who was the last person to yell at you? My mom is the only person who does that, but she hasn’t done so in a while.

Who gets up the earliest in your household? The latest? My dad, since his work starts the earliest. I will sometimes hear the car engine purring by 5:45 AM. The latest would be my sister, since she stays up the latest as well. I think she’s up by 8 AM, but she doesn’t show up outside of her bedroom until 10 or 11.

Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? No, and I am glad that’s the case because both of my dogs are too big and I fear that they could actually snap my laptop in half.

What political issues do you think deserve less attention/worry? No political issue deserves any less attention than others. Political issues always mean that someone is on the losing end and I don’t think it’s fair to compare and decide which ones can be put on the backseat. 

Anyway, I do believe it’s not so much the issues that should be compared, but the people in politics who are given the spotlight. Here in the Philippines especially, a lot of celebrities want to have their own political careers (and usually win a seat) despite their zero experience and the media gobbles that shit up all the time, which is disgusting. Related to this, I hope the media makes a consicous effort to wipe Trump out of the headlines once he’s out of office.

Which political issues are you most passionate about? I dunno if I can measure that since I’m pretty vocal about a lot of things. What I can tell you is that in the political issues I have a say in, I always side with the marginalized and the oppressed. IPs, POC, LGBTQ+, immigrants, factory workers, jeepney drivers, contractualized employees, activists, student-activists...my heart has always been with them and their cause.

You're going to your favorite foreign country; what landmarks do you go see? I’m not sure if I have a favorite country, but I’m very picky about landmarks in general anyway. I’d rather experience the local life and eat at smaller local places and go to lesser-known beaches and stuff.

What is the longest amount of time that you have spent away from your home? A little longer than a week, and this was usually when I traveled abroad.

Did the last movie you watched have any emotional effect on you? Yeah, so much so that I was unable to finish it and I had to show up at dinner while still fresh from crying.

What motivates you to go to school? Not applicable to me anymore, but I suppose this can be easily rephrased to mean work. Honestly, my main motivation is the desire to have a perfect record at work lol. I’m super neurotic about this and I hate the idea of being absent or late. Money comes second; I rarely buy stuff for myself so I mostly don’t even realize the money coming in to my account every two weeks. Then third is the desire to be good at my job because I do want to get promoted and rack up more positions as I go along.

How much caffeine have you consumed in one day? The most cups of coffee I’ve had in one day is 3, and that was not an enjoyable experience ha. Right now, I’m on my first cup of coffee.

Are you more hyper and up-tight, or laid back and relaxed? I guess it depends on the situation. I can definitely exhibit either, but my behavior will vary based on the people I’m with and/or how comfortable I am in a certain situation.

When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? Around a week ago. My parents were having dinner separately and I heard my name being mentioned in a few sentences.

How did you pick out your last outfit? I wanted an outfit that was chill and easy to carry around, but would still make me look like I put some effort into picking it out.

When buying shoes, what do you look for in the product? I admittedly like brand names, so that’s the first thing I look at. I also like to keep up with what’s trending, so I look at items in a brand’s catalog that I see more and more people wearing. If it matches with my own personal style, then I keep an eye on it/purchase it altogether.

What happened to cause the last mess you made? The last and current mess I have on me is my work desk, which I’ve since abandoned in favor of my bed + portable desk as my new workspace. Idk, over the Christmas break I just ended up stacking up so much shit on the desk until it became a little too cluttered. I’ve cleaned it up here and there to make the space look neater, but there’s still a lot of stuff.

Are you embarrassed to bring people into your bedroom? Not embarrassed; I just find it unnecessary. My bedroom is too small to host guests and the only times I’ve let someone in there is when I had a significant other. I prefer people to stay in the living room.

When was the last children's birthday party you attended? It was my third cousin Isabella’s 7th birthday party at a Jollibee. Her family has been living in Australia for a while, but I guess they wanted to host a party with their Filipino family so they flew back here to stay for a few days. Because she is my third cousin and because she’s been living in Australia all her life, I don’t actually have any sort of relationship with her lmao but I still made an effort to greet her and stuff.

Are you good at reading other people's body language? Yes, to the point that it contributes to my overall anxiety.

If you're sick, do you go to school or do you stay home [usually]? I rarely get a fever so when I do it feels like actual death. For that reason, I usually have to skip the day and focus on feeling better.

Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? I never had it whenever I’ve felt like crap in the past. I don’t really like soup though, so on a personal level I doubt it would have any effect on me.

What is one meal that you like to eat whilst sick? I don’t have a go-to meal because again, I rarely get sick.

Think of the last survey you filled out; did you enjoy it? Sure, it was easy to digest and it’s the kind that you can take over and over again.

Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? I’ve fed bread, but to fish in the sea; not ducks or geese since idk if we have either here other than in zoos. In our trip to Mactan in 2010, I remember how we were allowed to pay a certain small amount to get bread from the resort and proceed to feed the fish swimming around in the beach.

Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a 1-2 year old? Yeah, I definitely feel that way sometimes.

What set the tone for your mood today? Eh, I wouldn’t say I had an overall mood today, honestly. It was a normal day at work, maybe a little more uneventful than other days; and I was on top of my tasks so there wasn’t anything to dread or worry about. I was just concentrated on getting the day over with and wasn’t strongly attached to any emotion.

Have you ever set out to ruin someone else's day? I don’t think so.

Have you ever felt like the whole world was against you? It happens sometimes.

The name of the last video game you played? Mario Kart 8 probably? It’s been a while but it’s all I play if I do play a video game, so it’s a safe guess.

The name of the last board game that you played? We whipped out my old box of Trivial Pursuit last November when we didn’t have electricity and internet because of the typhoon.

What was the last thing that you told yourself? I don’t remember the last time I talked to myself, but like two minutes ago I was starting to feel sad so I silently reminded myself to think of positive things.

How many times a day do you wash your face? At least once, in the morning before I start work. I’ve learned that cleaning myself up, even if it’s just splashing water on my face, super helps if I want to start working in a good mood.

Do you remember your D.A.R.E. officer's name? I didn’t have one of those, anddd I’m sure we didn’t have that program here.

Someone throws hot coffee on you; how do you react? It’s taken me a whole goddamn week to finish this survey, lels. Anywho... I think out of instinct I would scream out in extreme agony first? And I’d probably spend the first immediate seconds to try and process what just happened. I don’t know if I would fight back because I’m pretty sure the burns would be hurting too badly for me to focus on revenge.

Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? I attended one school from kindergarten to college, and I can’t imagine having attended anywhere else. I had one dream university and I ended up attending it.

Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? Yes, both. My parents lived in an apartment for a few months when I was a newborn. From ages 2-10 I lived in my childhood home, which is actually a duplex. The other house belongs to my grandpa’s late sister and her family.

Has anyone ever commented on your weight? Sure, but I care so little about my weight that they don’t really have an effect on me. The most common one I get is to “eat more.”

Where do you stand when it comes to sexual intercourse? Erm not really lmao. Just do it?? Idk. And just make sure consent is mutual and that you aren’t doing it out of pressure.

Name a show from the 90's that you miss? I guess ‘miss’ is the wrong word since I never watched it while it was ongoing, but I do love Friends. I’m excited to see what they have planned for the reunion episode.

Who provokes your sarcastic side the most? Bad co-workers, but luckily I haven’t had to pull that side of me in a while.

Have you ever thought about joining the military? Never.

When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or "different" people? Being a kid, I probably did but never thought anything of it during those times. My mom certainly would’ve whooped my ass if I tried to comment anything mean or be a smartass.

Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble? The one thing that would piss my mom off are my vape pens. I still have Gab-related stuff in my room that I’m too lazy to throw out, but I doubt I will get into trouble from those anymore because there has been no relationship to speak of in the last four months.

Do weather patterns sometimes have an effect on your health? Not on my health, but on my mood.

If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever? It doesn’t, so idk what this would feel like.

When was the last time someone disapproved of something you were doing? Not entirely sure; this hasn’t happened in a while. Admittedly, as a people pleaser, I thrive on doing what people would want me to do lol.

How good are you at getting along with other people? On a scale of 1 to 10, probably a 9? I’m super nice to everyone and in the end it only really boils down to whether I have chemistry with them or not. If I fail to feel comfortable around someone I’m more likely to stay formal, but I do try to be lively and crack jokes with everyone as much as I can.

Do you consider yourself to be approachable? I want to be and I always try to come off as such, but my resting bitchface hurts that chance sometimes haha.

Do you know anyone that's a little emotionally unstable? Uhm, no one comes to mind.

Have you ever felt like you were going out of your mind? Yes.

Has anyone ever suggested that you might need "help"? I don’t recall being told this by anyone before. But with the way I broadcast my anxiety and sadness from time to time, I’m sure people have thought of it.

Do you take offense to things easily? Yeah you can say that. I’ve always been more sensitive than most.

How do you respond to cheesy pick-up lines? As with any pick-up line, I inwardly roll my eyes and move on.

Do you like to give people a taste of their own medicine? It’s such a waste of time and energy for the most part, so no. But if I feel petty, I have no problem doing it.

How was the service at the last restaurant you visited? It was...fine. Nothing to write home about. It was unlimited Korean barbecue and they actually had a system in place where they gave us a link to some internal website they kept, and we could simply order from there to minimize contact with the servers. I will say that I never got the kimchi jjigae I had ordered, but it was fine because I was full by then lmao.

Are you ever jealous of happy couples? No. I mean, I guess I’m reminded of my loneliness when I see couples in public, but I don’t get jealous or angry. I just shake it off and try to focus on myself.

Describe a thought that is sticking with you today? That I can’t wait for Friday.

Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? I’ve been thinking more of my anxieties than certain people, tbh.

In a car: air conditioning, or roll the windows down? Air conditioning. Though sometimes it’s nice to have the windows down, especially when I’m driving within my village or up a mountain.

When was the last time you did anything to your playlist? I made an angst-themed playlist over the weekend.

Is there a new song or band you've discovered? Massive Attack. Hayley Williams did a super great cover of their song Teardrop, so I checked out the original version which I also ended up enjoying. Olivia Rodrigo too, who I found out is part Filipino yay!

Which teacher gives you the most homework? My Journalism Ethics professor will probably rank the highest on this list.

What type of personality do you find most annoying? Idk, condescending ones maybe? There are a million kinds of personalities lol, but yeah I hate those who make you feel dumb, and feel good about doing so.

How did you hear about Bzoink? If my memory serves me correctly, my 10 year old self just wanted empty about me surveys to answer. Bzoink was always one of the first websites to come out if I searched for surveys on Google.

How long did it take you to sign up for an account - if you have one? I don’t think I ever made an account on there since I was too shy to share my answers.

Are you punctual? Yes, very.

Have you ever howled at the full moon? No.

Have you ever seen yourself on camera? Like if I’ve seen photos of myself??? I would be very surprised if anyone can say they haven’t.

Do you give any consideration to what's said in your horoscope? No.

When was the last time you felt like you were being followed? This has never happened before, thankfully.

[disappearinginq]

Yes, me again😳- please can you write something for “ withholding medical treatment” for Bad Things Happen?

Yes, yes I can! Hopefully, this works for your prompt!

He’d never seen Thomas look so pale.

He pressed down harder on the bleeding wound, the overshirtalready soaked through with red. Cold, pale fingers shook as they tried to pushhis away, but every ounce of strength was gone.

“Leave it,” he snapped, ignoring the tremble in thosescarred hands.

His response was so quiet, Rick almost missed it.

“I’m going to bleedout,” Magnum slurred, his head falling back against the door of the Rover. Hischest barely moved, breathing rapid and shallow as he fought to keep his eyesopen, even though every time he blinked, they stayed closed longer and longer.

Rick shook his head. Whether to tell Magnum that, no¸ you most certainly are-fucking-notor to ward off the sudden image of a disturbingly similar scenario, many yearsago on the dirt floor of a makeshift cell block beneath the earth, feeling justas useless as he did now, trapped behind a locked cage door. “No, you’re not.”

“ y’got ‘nother….bullet?”

He wished.

“We have to go to a hospital,” he snarled at the driverinstead.

The young man behind the wheel didn’t even bother to turnaround. He was hunched over the wheel as if it would make him invisible, flinchingwhen Rick raised his voice. “No. You’re a-a soldier. I know it. You talk likeone. You can make do.”

“Look, kid, carjacking is one thing. Shooting someone isanother. Negligent homicide is awhole new matter entirely.”

“Then I guess you best make sure he lives, huh?” thepassenger said, leaning around to point his gun at Magnum. “Unless you think Iought to just put him out of his misery now, huh?”

Rick gritted his teeth. “You shoot him, you better be thefastest gun since Jesse James, because then I’ll be out of reasons to let youlive.”

The man laughed. “You got balls, son. I’ll give you that.But that’s pretty ambitious for someone sitting on the wrong side of a gun,unarmed, with his hands tied together.”

“Ambitious,” Rick conceded in a flat voice. “But not wrong.”

“Lee, maybe we should– ”

Lee turned on his partner so fast Rick was surprised hedidn’t get whiplash, cuffing the kid in the back of the head hard enough thatthe Rover swerved into the opposite lane before the driver wrestled it backonto the right side. “What’d I tell you, dumbass?”

The kid flinched. “Just drive.”

“That’s right. Just drive.I don’t need you getting any smart ideas.”

“If he dies, you’ll be lucky to go down for murder one,”Rick pointed out. He tried not to think about the warmth of the soaked ragbeneath his fingers. Tried not to look at the growing stain on the high-endleather of the Rover’s back seat. Or how cold Magnum’s fingers were. Or the wayhis teeth chattered. Or tried to shift away from him every time Rick presseddown to stem the bleeding.

Lee scoffed. “And if we’re unlucky, hot shot?” The gun remained pointed at Thomas, who twistedagainst the corner of the seat and the door, did little more than glareblearily at him.

“No one will ever find your bodies.”

The kid’s fearful eyes met his in the rearview mirror, andRick knew he had his attention.

“Hawaii’s a great place for body dumping,” Rick continuedconversationally. “Volcanoes. An ocean filled with currents that’ll take youmiles out in a matter of minutes and sharks that may or may not be tempted totake a chunk out of you. Rainforests so dense and damp that the only way anyoneis gonna find you is by accident, fifty years from now when the only thing leftbehind is your teeth.” Rick paused, considering it for a moment. “And that’sassuming I leave you with yourteeth.”

“You ain’t doing squat from the back seat of a car with yourhands tied, so sit back, shut the hell up, and take care of your friend beforeI decide I don’t want to listed to him moan anymore,” Lee snapped. “As you justhelpfully pointed out, lots’a places for bodies ‘round here.”

“Or,” Rick immediately snapped back, “you could just let usout at the fucking curb, I’ll lie and tell them this is your car, you took us tothe hospital after we were attacked by someoneelse, and you can drive off at your own pace while shock and trauma robs meof any cognitive memory of what you looked like when the police come calling.”

“Lee – ” the driver tried again, but shut up when Lee raisedhis hand again.

“Why would you do something like that?” Lee askedsuspiciously.

“Because this ain’t my car, and I don’t give a rat’s assabout what happens to it, or you, if you let my friend live,” Rick said. Hedidn’t mention the part where it belonged to a feisty British majordomo whotook her job a little too seriously that would hunt them down later having madeno such promise to leave them be.

He also didn’t mention the fact that the Rover was equippedwith Lo-Jack, they were already two hours late returning the vehicle to theNest, and Higgins was going to wonder what the hell they were doing on thewrong side of the island when she got impatient and looked up their location onthat fancy laptop of hers. He just hoped they were out of the vehicle by thetime the cops showed up, because he had no doubt Higgins was the type to reportthe car stolen if she thought they were off joyriding, and there was no wayThomas was going to survive a high-speed chase.

Lee stared at him, assessing. Rick could see him mull itover in his head, weighing the benefits of not having a murder attached to him,hassle of having to hide a body if he did against the likelihood that Rick waslying about not telling the hospital staff the truth.

“It doesn’t even have to be a hospital for chrissakes,” Ricksnapped. “I’ll take a goddamn vet at this point. A CVS with a pharmacy and aphone, I don’t care, but if you don’tlet us out of the vehicle, I’m going to make your lives a goddamn nightmare for what remains of them.”

“We’ll think about it.”

And Lee turned back around, completely ignoring the two menin the backseat.

Rick forcibly bit the inside of his cheek to keep fromsaying anything, desperately trying to channel his inner Nuzo to keep his mouthshut and not antagonize the bad guys into letting Thomas die out of spite forsomething he said. The hospital was agood option. Lee just had to convince himself that it was his idea, and notsomething he’d been bullied into by a hostage.

Rick just didn’t know if he had that kind of time.

The hole in Magnum’s leg missed the artery, or he would’vebeen dead already, but that didn’t mean he was in the clear. Close range, theexit wound was large and messy, and besides a shirt, Rick had literally nothingfor first aid. If they’d been driving the Ferrari, or even his Porsche, therewouldn’t have even been space for them to be hostages, but that’s what they gotfor doing Higgins a favor and taking the Rover in for service while they werealready in town and she was entertaining another cultural tour of the Nest. Italso meant no first aid kits.

He pressed down harder on the still bleeding wound, thoughthe shirt was already saturated through. Magnum hardly moved under the newonslaught of pain, and Rick tried not to think about the sound he made thatwasn’t quite human. He was conscious, but just barely, his teeth chatteringagainst the cold of shock, but he could do little more than let Rick try whateverhe could to stem the flow of blood.

The car rounded a corner and came to a screeching halt inthe middle of the road, skidding on the tarmac before coming to a stop.

It took all of Rick’s effort to keep Thomas from flying offthe seat, and he cried out as Rick’s full weight came down on his leg, even hashe braced his shoulder against the seatback in front of him.

“Shit, sorry Thomas,” he apologized quickly, risking aglance out the windshield. He half expected traffic, or road work, but healmost laughed out loud when he saw the flashing red and blue lights.

Higgins was more paranoid than he gave her credit for. Ormaybe Katsumoto was a better detective than he thought.

Either way, he owed them both drinks, because he’d neverbeen happier to see half of HPD creating a road block with weapons drawn andpointed at him.

Two more cruisers pulled in behind them, blocking them frombacking up and making an escape in reverse.

This was more than just Higgins being annoyed and vindictiveabout the car going rogue. Someone had to have reported the carjacking, orgunshots, or something, because this was a coordinated response – no matter howlittle Katsumoto liked Magnum, there was no way he would rope half thedepartment into teaching him a lesson about joyriding without the majordomo’s permission.

“This is HPD – step out of the car with your hands in theair where we can see them, nice and slow,” Katsumoto called over the radioloudspeaker. “We have you surrounded. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Rick snickered, though it was probably more nervous reliefthan actual humor. “Ha, ha,” he managed, reminiscent of Nelson Muntz. “I takeback all previous offers. You’re screwed.”

“Am I?” Lee snarled.

Rick didn’t have time to contemplate what the gunman couldpossibly mean before the man threw open his door, using it as a shield betweenhimself and the police, swinging around to rip open the door Thomas was leaningagainst, grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him out of the vehiclebefore Rick could protest or even think to stop him.

The soaked makeshift bandage came loose in his hand asThomas was ripped out from underneath it, hauled up in front of Lee as a humanshield.

Thomas didn’t even scream, and maybe that was worse. Hecouldn’t stand on his own, the only reason he was upright was Lee’s arm aroundhis neck and shoulder, the little color he had absolutely gone, his face ashenand pale. Rick was honestly shocked the abrupt change in position didn’t makecause him to pass out, but dammit all if Magnum was a fighter. Dark eyes keptthreatening to roll to the back of his head as he fought to stay conscious, onetrembling hand on Lee’s arm holding him up, and the other hovering shakily overthe gunshot wound to his leg as he tried to keep his weight off of it.

“I already shot him once,” Lee shouted at Katsumoto. “I’mokay with doing it again. Are you?”

Katsumoto’s face didn’t so much as flicker. That manshould’ve been a professional poker player. “If your goal is to get out of thisalive, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah?” Lee snarled, digging the muzzle of the pistol intoMagnum’s jaw with bruising force. “Well, maybe I got different plans.”

“Your intent suicide by cop?” Katsumoto retorted. “We can dothat. But first, release the hostage.”

“This guy?” asked Lee, his tone suddenly pitching towardsmania. “This guy, right here?” He gave Magnum a slight shake. “Nah. I don’tthink so. I kinda like the sounds he makes.” And with that, he took the gunfrom Magnum’s jaw to shove against the wound in his leg.

The ragged scream barely made it past Magnum’s lips beforeRick slammed into Lee, catching the gunman in the side with his shoulder hardenough he heard the crack of ribs. He collided with such force he actually knockedThomas forwards and away from them, his friend half catching himself with one hand– just enough to not smash his teeth out on the concrete – before collapsing tothe ground.

Rick didn’t see any of it. Didn’t hear the police shouting,didn’t hear Katsumoto order the other officers not to shoot, didn’t hear the goahead for the EMT’s.

His vision tunneled. He grabbed Lee by the hair, twisting itas hard as he could, his nails digging into the man’s skull as he yanked hishead up by the hair only to smash it down against the road with an audiblecrack.

“Shoot my friend, will you?” Rick snarled through gritted teeth, gripping thegunman’s head in his bloodied fingers. “Refuseto take him to a hospital, huh?”He slammed Lee’s head down again. “Maybe I’ll like the sounds you make.”

He wrenched the man’s head up again, with every intention ofsmashing it against the road until it split – and maybe not stopping even then –except…

“Rick.”

He froze, fingers still gouging into Lee’s scalp, halfway toslamming it down again.

“Rick.”

He turned to Thomas, who was currently being fitted to aback board as one of the EMT’s pressed sterile dressing against the entry wound,despite him trying to flinch away from contact.

Thomas was barely conscious. If Rick hadn’t seen the hellthat man could go through, he would’ve been surprised. He could tell that the medicswere – though impressed was probably the wrong word for it. Thomas’s handsautomatically went to the oxygen mask, pulling stubbornly at it the second theyreplaced it, rolling his upper body as soon as they let go of him as they kepttrying to hold his hands down while they strapped him in.

Rick dropped Lee without a second thought, reaching forMagnum’s clumsily flailing hand as it reached for the mask again.

“Leave it,” he ordered, gently placing Thomas’s hand back athis side.

Magnum’s fingers gripped Rick’s sleeve, twisting in the fabric.The mask fogged slightly as he tried to speak, but whatever it was, was lost inthe chaos.

He tried not think how unnervingly familiar all of this was.

At least they weren’t being loaded into a helicopter.

Rick suddenly found himself gripping Thomas’s hand, thesudden sensation of dread that this would be the last time he’d see Thomas aliveso forceful he felt himself stumble.

Maybe that was just because the EMT’s finally lifted himfrom the ground. At least, that’s what he told himself.

A hand on his shoulder had him flinching, jerking violentlyat the slight touch.

Katsumoto held his hands back, palms out in ‘surrender’pose, and it was only then that Rick realized he’d been trying to talk to himfor the past several moments.

“Should I call your friend?” Katsumoto asked. Judging fromthe slight sigh at the end of the question, Rick guessed he must have asked itmore than once.

“Yeah. Sure. Probably.”

The detective raised an eyebrow, then glanced back at the unconsciousgunman. “Normally, the precinct would be your next stop, but –”

“I think I’m in shock. I need medical attention,” Rickrecited hollowly. That was what his uncle taught him to tell the police – or anyoneelse, for that matter – if things ever went sideways. Something close to itanyway.

Katsumoto’s lips twitched in what might’ve been a knowingsmirk, but who could tell? “I’ll take care of it.”

Rick wasn’t even sure what ‘it’ was, but he didn’t care.

Huh. Maybe it wasshock.

Or maybe just relief.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. He let the EMT’s loadThomas into the back of the waiting ambulance, his hand still gripping tightlyagainst cold fingers.

Cold fingers that held onto his just as tightly.

[loveturtlesx]

Bar Musings

Part 3

I’m surprising myself by how quickly I’m writing this.

In the darkness of the car, she began to sober up a bit. Some of the fogginess began to clear, but she was still in no state to operate any vehicle. She was starting to question her decision— it’s a weekday, and here she was drunk with strangers, granted they were both kind and attractive, but strangers nonetheless. Shawn and G were chatting with the driver about the weather and the upcoming holidays. The mundaneness soothed some of her nerves about her decision. She then took her phone out to texted Kate and saw that she had a message from her.

iMessage From Kate: Hey, love! I’m sorry he’s such a dick. You’re wonderful, and we can eat junk and I have wine, and we can do nails. I’m getting off from my shift in 20!

iMessage to Kate: Please. That sounds amazing. I’m out grabbing food with some guys I met at the bar lol... call me when you’re out!

She put her phone in her pocket. They pulled up to the diner in no time. She flushed looking at exactly which diner they had chosen. This diner happened to be her diner. This was where she waitressed 5-6 nights a week, and on her off days or breaks, where she did her homework. Fuck. She silently wished Marco wasn’t working. He teased her relentlessly, and could be a bit much on the best of days.

“I think the coast is clear,” G said from the front seat, probably referring to the lack of fans. He got out of the car first.

“Thank you so much,” she said to the driver and began to dig into her purse for her wallet to tip the man. From the backseat, Shawn shook the driver’s hand and passed him some folded bills.

“I got it,” he lowered his voice to her, and got out of his side of the car. He held it open for her. She scooted over and stumbled out. He steadied her by holding onto her arm. She blushed again.

“I’m normally not this bad, and I swear it’s not still the wine.”

He smiled, “I’m sure.” She wasn’t quite sure if he was agreeing because he believed her or was just humoring her.

They headed towards the diner, where through the slightly steamed window, they could make out G sitting at a table. They strolled slowly towards the door, ignoring the cool air.

“I’m glad you came.”

“I am too.”

He hesitated, “I’m sure the company helps too after your breakup.”

She felt strangely disappointed that the conversation involved Tom in some capacity, “it does, and you and G are funny. He was telling me about you at the bar.”

“Ahh, don’t listen to him.”

“No, no. It wasn’t anything bad.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” he said with a chuckle.

“Well, he was joking around a bit, but it really wasn’t anything to be worried about.”

“So bartending,” she added.

“It’s a lot of fun. I’m not great, but I’m getting better. The first cocktail I made, I got the shaker stuck on the glass, and I panicked a bit and smacked it a bit too hard on the edge of the counter,” he paused.

“Oh no, tell me you didn’t break the glass,” she laughed kindly.

“No, I chipped the counter,” he sheepishly grinned and she almost snorted, “I was learning in my friend’s apartment kitchen, and the counter was made of that compressed wood stuff.”

“Oh my god! What did she say?”

“He was drunk and thought it was hilarious. I paid to fix the counter the next morning.”

They reached the diner doors and he held it open for her. She was disappointed the diner wasn’t farther away, and her stomach clenched at the thought of her coworkers seeing her, but she held her head high and walked inside.

G was sitting at table 18, the large corner table that could seat 10 comfortably. He was alone with a mug in front of him already, and his phone glued to his ear.

She led the way, glancing quickly around to see who was on tonight. No one was in the dining room at the moment. She sat to G’s left. Shawn took his jacket off and hung it on the back of his chair before sitting. While he was, she took a moment to shamelessly look him over. His shirt had opened a button on the ride over, and his chain was more visible. The contrast of his skin and the chain gave her slight chills. His chest and arms were massive, but not in an off putting way. He looked like he could take care of himself if he got into a scrap, though she doubted he would ever need to, and yet he still managed to look so, so completely... cuddly.

She felt warm and needed to look away as he sat down next to her. G tilted his phone away from his mouth and whispered that it was his girlfriend and she was drunk.

Shawn grabbed the small milks on the table for G’s coffee, and began to stack them. She smiled at his antics and then began to help him build a tower. It got quite high and then G blew on the tower, with his phone still on his ear. The tower crumbled. She laughed, and Shawn whined, “dude, not cool.”

Tracy, the middle aged mother of three, appeared without looking up from her notepad, “hi, I’m Tracy. Welcome to Bee’s Diner. Can I get you guys a coffee? Fries?” She had bags under her eyes. She sympathized with Tracy, Tuesday and Thursday evening shifts were always the dodgiest, and add raising teenage sons into the mix.

“I’m okay with water, and,” he turned to her.

“Hey Trace, I’ll have a water too.”

“Oh! How are you dear,” she finally glanced up. She blushed, but knew Tracey meant well. Tracey knew all about Tom. She was a motherly figure who was fantastic at listening and giving advice.

“Uh, good.” Tracey, bless her, didn’t mention anything. She looked over G and Shawn assessing them with new eyes.

“Two waters, and your usual?” Tracey asked with her pen in hand. When she wasn’t waitressing, she was often found in booth 13 with textbooks and her laptop. She’d always order a big bowl of soup and a grilled cheese, and depending on her stress level either a basket of fries or a bowl of fruit.

She smiled at Tracy, “just the soup today.” Tracy smiled, “and for you boys?” Shawn was staring at her like he was trying to figure something out. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

G put his hand over the mouth piece and ordered a burger.

Tracey collected the unused menus from the table, “I’m glad to see you out with someone besides Kate. You’re waiting on a few more?”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” she looked at Shawn for confirmation.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Tracey nodded leaving two of the menus behind, and went to sort out their order with the kitchen.

Shawn turned to her, “Kate’s your—ex?”

She smiled, “no still current, best friend.” He nodded, and brought his hands back to the milks. She went back to helping him, “she’s getting off from work soon actually.”

“Yeah? What’s she do?”

“She’s an ER nurse.”

“That’s awesome. Does she happen to watch Grey’s?”

She laughed, “no she refuses actually. She doesn’t want to start comparing her life to Meredith’s.”

“Do you watch it?”

“I stopped after Izzie’s storyline with Denny. It was too much for my emotions.”

“That’s so early though!”

“I know, I just couldn’t keep watching.” Her phone went off.

She pulled her phone out, “speak of the devil.”

iMessage From Kate: Girlfriend!!!! I hope you’re being smart!! Where are you? What are their names? I’m gonna be a littler late because my boss sucks, but if you need me I’ll leave now.

iMessage to Kate: I am, and I’m okay! We’re at Bee’s. Their names are Shawn and G.

iMessage From Kate: What the hell of a name is G? And last names? What if I need to track one of them down?

She snorted and apologized to Shawn as she typed out her response, “I’m sorry. I try not to be on my phone when I’m with other people, but we’re meeting up after her shift.”

“Oh no worries at all. Does she want us to order her something?”

iMessage to Kate: I’m fine and you won’t need to track me down! Do you need me to fake an emergency so you can leave? They work you too hard.

“Great idea, I’ll ask.” She was surprised again by his generosity, but shouldn’t have been. He had been extremely thoughtful the entire evening.

“She won’t be here for a bit, but I’ll order her pancakes when she’s leaving the hospital.”

He nodded and continued to work on the milk tower.

“Fuck, where?!” G sat up straight. Her and Shawn’s heads snapped up to look at G. “Alright. Breathe. I’ll come to get you. Stay on the phone with me.”

G looked over to Shawn, “your apartment’s a few blocks over? Your car is there right, not at your parents?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“Can you bring me to get C—- what?” G turned his attention back to his phone and urgently added, “we’re on our way.”

“Some creepy guy is there slipping things into drinks. She’s locked herself in the bathroom.” G snapped.

Shawn quickly stood pushing his chair back. He dug for his wallet, “shit, I’m out of cash.”

“I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it,” she stood too and reached for her own purse, “go, don’t worry about this.”

G was already at the door of the diner, “Shawn!”

He looked back at her, “thanks, I-I’ll text you.” And rushed out the door.

She let out a breath and sat down. She hoped G’s girlfriend would be okay.

Then a terrible and selfish thought crept into her mind, he didn’t have her cell phone number...

She looked around hoping he’d pop back in and magically give it to her. Realizing how ridiculous of a thought it was, she sighed at herself. That’s when she noticed he left his jacket behind. She grabbed it off the back of his chair. She held it for a moment hoping it would somehow give her an answer as towards how to contact him. Accepting defeat, she laid it on her lap and pulled out her wallet to pay Tracey. Digging for her credit card, her heart jumped, “oh fuck,” she said aloud.

“What’s the matter? Where’d everyone go?” Tracey appeared with the waters and extra napkins.

“They had an emergency.” She sounded sad to her own ears, and added “and I left my tab open at the bar. I don’t have my credit card.”

Tracey sat down at the table and patted her arm, “it’s alright. I know where you work. Now what’s this about an emergency.”

**

She left the diner with all the food packed up, and a promise to pay and tip Tracey well for the nutty evening. She headed towards the bar to retrieve her card, and silently prayed that no one had taken it or used it in her absence.

The chilly air blew up her thin jacket and made her shiver. Her skin felt icy. She glanced down at his jacket. It was warming the arm it was draped over. She hesitated. He would never know if she put it on, and it was freezing, she talked herself into it. She put the food down on the sidewalk and slid her arms into the sleeves of the denim jacket. Her hands didn’t make it out of the sleeves, she rolled them a bit. She felt small wearing his clothes. Feeling toasty, she picked up the food and continued walking. A big gust of wind blew, and she buried her nose into the jacket. Mmm, it smelled like cologne. Her heart jumped, and she took a moment to inhale the jacket again. Remembering herself, she glanced around looking to see if anyone had watched her. She was alone. This was not even close to how she imagined this evening transpiring. Shaking her head at her actions, she decided to phone Kate to let her know what happened and that she needed to be picked up from the bar.

The bar came back into sight and the lines outside were insane. There appeared to be tons of teenage fan girls waiting to see if their idol was still inside. She walked up to the bouncer and got yelled at by fans waiting in line. She ignored the calls and told the bouncer her dilemma. He called inside to the bar, and then nodded, allowing her back into the warmth.

She went up to the bar and asked the bartender for her card, “there was no tab open. It was just left here.”

“No tab?” She was confused.

“No” shouted the bartender over the music. She took her card and put it back into her wallet. Shawn must not have charged her for anything. She felt strangely guilty and made a mental note to leave a large tip the next time she was back with cash. She wandered over to the window and peered out at the crowd that was slowly disbursing, just then Kate called, “I’m outside, by the girl holding a ‘the Future Mrs. Mendes’ poster. I wonder if he’s in the area because this is insane!”

She laughed and dashed outside to Kate’s beat up Honda. Climbing into the passenger seat, she was immediately assaulted with a hug.

“How are you?” Kate breathed.

How was she? She knew Kate was referring to the Tom situation, but right now all she could focus on was the disappointment of not being able to contact Shawn again.

“I’ve been better.”

[gaycrystalfemme]

Power Couple

Chapter 2: Flashbacks

I can't wait forever.

With that thought, Blue got distracted from finishing the last article of the thick law book she had been studying. She'll be taking the bar exam in a few weeks and getting held up over such irrelevant thoughts were detrimental.

Bzzzzzt!

Her phone vibrated. A message. It read:

"Honey, your whereabouts? I'm at the Stardusk café, currently. Would you care to join me?"

Blue started dialing Yellow's number. Before it was answered, Blue gently cleared her throat and adjusted her voice to a whisper. "Yellow. Yes, darling, I... Oh. Yes, as of the moment, I am at the library. I'd love to join you but what time will you be.. Oh. Yes, okay."

Yellow. She had fancied Yellow for the longest time since they were younger. And yes they were both female, but that did not deter her from harboring romantic feelings towards Yellow.

Not straight, huh? Oh, but there is no other way. There is no one else I'd be with if not my Yellow!

Blue would have this dialogue in her head every time she found herself questioning her feelings for Yellow. A glorious day it was when Yellow finally confessed. It was one of Blue's most prized memories.

~ ~ ~

Years Ago

"Blue, I.. Can we speak after etiquette class?"

Summer time, it was supposed to be leisure time for normal kids. But they were not normal kids. They were members of the handful elite.

Young Yellow is studying culture, languages, and etiquette over the summer. Her friend, Blue, is also doing the same. They were in different classes though.

They spend the few months at a prestigious academy, known only to the very wealthy, honing and learning new skills. However, what mattered most was their status, their image, the expansion of their empires, their ability to lead. They had to be perfect.

Blue could not concentrate. Ra, La, or was it Fa? She was looking at Chinese characters but nothing seems to click in her head aside from what Yellow left open-ended earlier.

What is she going to tell me? Could it be that she has a boyfriend I don't know about? Did she agree to date the guy who owns the winery? Or the son of the owner of the Yacht club? Or worse, could White have set her up with a groom of her choosing?? Should I confess my.. Oh my lord, what am I gonna do?!

Over the years of befriending and getting to know Yellow, Blue gradually saw her as more than a mere friend. She began seeing Yellow in a romantic light. Perhaps due to their conversations, maybe their shared appreciation in fashion, maybe Yellow's hidden compassion.

One time, Yellow shared her juice box with Blue just because she knew Blue loved that so much. From then on, Blue felt a spark. It's like she's a person and not just some elite being. An equal to Yellow. On other occasions, Yellow would touch her shoulder or her back as a sign of camaraderie, and she'd have thoughts of their hands intertwining. Before she knew it she was secretly pining over Yellow.

By the bench at the school park, Yellow was seated waiting for Blue. She was usually stiff and serious even at a young age, but today she was obviously restless and sweating.

"Yellow, have you been waiting long? Sorry, I just got out of language class. I came as fast as I could."

"It's fine, Blue. Let's.. walk, shall we?"

Blue was nervous herself. Both of them walking side by side but awkwardly. Yet neither could take notice as they were both immersed in their own heads. There was an unspoken presence between them. Doubts, fears, uncertainties, feelings..

"Blue, I.."

They had been walking for a while, perhaps about thirty minutes, until they stopped in an empty and secluded patch in their academy. Since only very few enrolled during the summer, it seemed like the place was entirely theirs. Yellow held Blue's hand and, with all her might, looked Blue in the eyes.

"Blue, I have.." Yellow gripped Blue's hand tighter.

"Yellow? What.. What are you trying to say?" Blue's chest tightened with Yellow's grip. Flutter, uncertainty, confusion: all at once.

Yellow could no longer contain herself. She was always the type to attack. At that moment, she deemed words would be insufficient. She decided, instead, for a grand approach.

With her right hand still holding Blue's, Yellow stationed her other hand at Blue's shoulder for anchor. She pulled her subtly trembling body towards Blue. Their faces had never been this close. So close, she could smell Blue's breath and their noses could touch. Yellow closed her eyes and softly, for the first time, kissed Blue in the lips.

"Blue, I've.. I have feelings for you! And if this.. information would terminate our friendship, then so be it."

"Yellow.."

Blue was undeniably shocked with what just transpired. It took a few moments before she could grasp the situation.

"I feel the same, Yellow. For the longest time! I'm beyond the stars just knowing you feel the same way for me!"

"Blue, would you mind if we be exclusive?"

"I.. I love you, Yellow!" Blue sloppily and ungracefully lunged towards Yellow's face and sealed her response with an inexperienced kiss.

~ ~ ~

At the Stardusk Café

Where the hell is Blue?!

Yellow grew impatient by the second. Her temper was easily thrown off the window. Sometimes it was her weakness, sometimes her strength. She tried her best to manage it though, especially whenever the situation involved Blue.

While Blue was busy with the upcoming bar exam, Yellow was busy negotiating with various clients. She was expanding her business in Asia. And though they had been together for a while, it had become more difficult to see each other. Especially since they were building and expanding their careers.

Yellow's hotheadedness was mainly caused by the excitement and frustration to see her darling, Blue. She wanted to see her, to be with her. But there was too little time.

"Honey," Blue had finally arrived. Yellow's temper melted with the sight of Blue.

"Blue, you took long enough."

"What?! You told me eight. And it's just five minutes before eight! Pearl drove as fast as she could. Anyway, can we eat somewhere? All the studying left me famished."

"Okay, Blue. But I need to get home by ten. Ten thirty at most. I'll be meeting a client early tomorrow. You know, with Mr. Cho. It's a make or break for the company, so.."

"Yes, darling. I get it. I have to be early too. I'll be speaking with the current chief executive lawyer of the firm and review a few contracts so the turn over would be smooth once I pass the exam."

"Yes, of course."

They steadfastly left the café and went to dinner at the nearest fancy restaurant. After dinner, it was already past ten. So in compliance to Yellow's assigned curfew, they decided to go home. Yellow's assistant was driving them as Blue sent hers earlier after dropping her at Stardusk.

First route was to drop Blue off, then to Yellow's house. In the backseat of Yellow's gold car, Blue closed her eyes and rested her head on Yellow's shoulder. Yellow held Blue's hand.

"Yellow, this is becoming more difficult. We barely see each other and when we do it's always in a haste."

Sigh. "I know, darling. But that's how it's supposed to be. We both have huge responsibilities."

"But maybe we don't have to haste every time. Maybe we could still be influential figures to society and still have time for ourselves. Yellow I want to spend more time with you."

Yellow kissed Blue's hair, "What are you suggesting?"

"You might think I'm silly but.. I want to marry you, Yellow! I want to be married to you, I want you to be my wife. I've thought about this and probably we can get to spend more time at least. You would come home to me, I'd come home to you. Life would be.. perfect."

Blue had sounded casual even if she may have wanted to inject more emotion to what she had just confessed. She had began to feel the fatigue of the day's work.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Yellow was in awe with what she just heard. Gently she pulled Blue away from her shoulder so they could face each other. It was obvious in her face that she was blushing.

"Are you suggesting.. we get married, Blue?!"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Of.. of course. That is unheard of!"

"But Yellow, it isn't. You know that. I don't suppose you enjoy our quick dates, do you? And what are we after this? It feels like we're just dating. For the next eternity, will we still be just dating? I want to be your wife! Do you not see that?"

Blue now all fired up with frustration from Yellow's response. She thought Yellow would want the same. It seems otherwise.

"Sorry if I lashed out like that. I'm.. I'm just.. tired," Blue submitted to defeat.

"No, Blue. Don't be. I'm sorry. Please know, I do want to be married to you too. We'll have to plan this, however."

"Yes, I know."

They arrived at Blue's mansion. As they approached the driveway, Blue tidied herself a bit before alighting the gold vehicle. There was a certain weight in the air from what they had just discussed.

She pecked Yellow goodbye but before she could turn away, Yellow whispered softly to her, "Blue, I.. I want to.. touch you."

"Oh. Then, uh, come. Stay with me tonight," she smiled softly but tiredly.

"Pearl, go home. I'll call you tomorrow when I need you. Be up early." Yellow took off with Blue, taking her fancy purse and laptop bag.

"Yes, Ms. Diamond." With that command, Yellow's assistant drove home without her.

"Do you have everything you need, honey? Paperworks? Contracts? Mr. Cho, tomorrow?"

"I believe everything is here," Yellow subtly tapped her laptop bag. "I'll just have Pearl bring whatever I left, if there is any. Perhaps a set of clothes! Is.. is it okay if I stay tonight? I feel like we need to.. talk."

"Pfft! You know it's fine."

This wasn't the like usual nights they'd have. Usually these quick dates would end up where they both go home separately. Occasionally, they'd come home to one's home and spend the night. But when and if they do, it had to be scheduled. Finding time for such an activity weren't as easy given the things they have to deal with on a daily basis.

Yellow suddenly felt the urge for Blue. Perhaps due to the pressure of her company's expansion. Perhaps due to Blue's upcoming bar exam. Or probably due to the marriage bomb Blue had just dropped earlier in the car. She wanted them to connect physically that night.

They both started making out and undressing each other once they reached the master bedroom. They couldn't stop touching and kissing each other. Not being able to do this for a while had its perks. They took a bath together, and, after doing so navigated to the bed.

Now, the only universe that mattered was theirs. They melted into each other's love and smooches and caresses. They moaned and screamed like there was no one else in the world. Blue had particularly felt like being on top was appropriate that night, so she took the role and made Yellow feel ecstatic beyond the heavens. After Yellow reached her peak, she made Blue feel heavenly as well. From the moment they reached Blue's room, it took probably two or three hours before they both finished.

Panting, both now sweating and were facing one another. Yellow cuppped Blue's cheek and softly kissed her.

"Blue. Let's.. get married."

"Yellow I thought-"

"Everything you said earlier in the car, I want that too! To come home to you and you to me, yes, I would love to be able to do that. I've always loved you, Blue. I don't think I can ever be with anyone else! Please, will you be my wife?"

"Yellow, I.. Yes! Of course!" Blue bursted in tears, but that of joy. Happiness she couldn't contain.

Yellow pulled Blue closer to encapsulate her in the warmest most loving hug. "It's settled then. We'll only hire the best."

A wedding was on the way.

Mrs. Diamonds. It sounded perfect for them both.

[sp4c3-0ddity]

Ink on a Page

an Inkheart AU (sort of)

Category:  Gen Word count:  ~3200 Chapters:  2/?

Summary:

Pidge has lived a normal - if unstable - life with her mother for the last fourteen of her sixteen years, but even the fantastical books she reads never could’ve prepared her for the wild twist it takes when an ‘old friend’ of her mother’s appears unannounced at their door.

Chapter Two Summary:

Pidge and Colleen pack up and move cross country.

Read Chapter Two on ao3

Or read from the beginning

Or below the cut:

Chapter Two:

Colleen woke Pidge up early the next day, but when she complained, her mother retorted that it was already nine.

“But it’s Saturday,” Pidge whined, pulling her covers back up over her head. “I don’t have school, and I have all day to finish my homework.”

Colleen tugged the covers away from her face, staring down at her with hands resting on her hips. “I’ve got a new assignment now.”

That shocked her awake, and she shoved her blankets back and sat up. “We’ve only been here for three months,” she pointed out. “How can you have a new one already?”

Colleen sat at the edge of the bed, patting her knee comfortingly though she wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I finished this one quicker than I expected,” she admitted. “I’m sorry, love, but it’s time to go. You can transfer to a new school—”

“This one is still new,” Pidge grumbled.

“—and you’ll pick right back up where you left off.”

“Can’t I be homeschooled instead?” Pidge wondered. “I looked into it already, and you don’t even have to do anything except make sure I’m following the curriculum, and—”

“School is good for you, love,” Colleen said, finally looking her in the eye. “You need to see people, sometimes; you can’t be a shut-in.”

“I’m not a shut-in,” Pidge said, pulling her knees up to her face and wrapping her arms around her legs.

Colleen only hummed in response – which was better than contradicting her, but Pidge knew she wanted to.

“Is it because of Allura?” Pidge dared to ask.

Her mother visibly stiffened, her lips pinched together, but she said, “No.”

Pidge could tell when she lied, but she also knew when she would refuse to alter her answer.

Then Colleen, changing the subject, said, “It won’t be so bad this time, I think. We’ll be close to a place that might interest you.”

Pidge perked up at that. “Where are we going?”

“D.C.”

Pidge grinned. “Really? Can we go to the Air and Space Museum?”

Her mother smiled. “Yes, of course we can,” she said. “I’ll take you there next weekend, if you want, but today we have to pack.”

For once excited about the prospect of picking up and moving – the reason they didn’t have many belongings, aside from electronics and books – Pidge jumped out of bed and across the hall into the bathroom, ready to start the day. And after brushing her teeth and changing her clothes, she returned to her room and began throwing clothes out of her closet and neatly arranging books into old cardboard boxes.

Colleen frequently bemoaned Pidge’s uncanny ability to accumulate clutter despite how often they moved, everything from blank notebooks with pretty bindings to computer parts whenever she tried to build her own (she had yet to succeed without the hardware catching fire). Along with a suitcase stuffed with all her clothes and shoes and a few boxes of just books, Pidge also dropped assorted knickknacks into another box, pens and electronic parts and souvenirs from the places she and her mother lived in, for however little time.

At least they only ever rented furnished apartments, so only the blankets, pillows, and bedspreads were stuffed into the tiny backseat of Colleen’s pickup truck, boxes and suitcases stored in the covered bed. Pidge sorted everything into place while Colleen settled their lease with the landlord, and by Sunday morning they were on their way east to Washington, D.C., a book in Pidge’s lap while she entertained herself on the long drive.

“Why don’t you watch the scenery outside, love?” Colleen wondered as they drove on a winding parkway through trees thick with autumn leaves.

Pidge turned a page and didn’t look up. “There are trees everywhere.”

“You’ll get carsick,” her mother warned.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Besides, I’m almost done with the first chapter.”

Colleen sighed, and when she slowed the car through a curve, Pidge felt the motion in her stomach, faint enough that she could ignore it…and therefore prove her mother wrong. But Colleen said, “Haven’t you read that one before?”

After marking her place with a finger, Pidge turned the book over to stare at the cover of a cheesy horror novel – The Monster in Miami was exciting, if not exactly classy – and the monster it portrayed. “Yeah, but I like it.”

Colleen glanced at her, frowning skeptically, but then she shrugged.

Pidge smirked and said, “I’ll read something else, if you think I should.”

Her mother smiled. “You have another book in here with you?”

“Yeah, I have this one’s sequel.” She nudged her backpack, sitting on the floor between her feet, with her toes. “But…I saw a book on your shelf the other day”—careful—“and I want to read it.”

“Sure, anything you want, love.”

“Oh, really?” Pidge stuck her bookmark into the horror novel and turned to regard her mother, propping her elbow onto the armrest and resting her chin in her hand. “Then when we get to D.C., can I borrow Voltron?”

Colleen slammed on the brakes, and Pidge jerked in her seat as the truck came to a screeching halt. The car behind them honked their horn and swerved wide around them, and Pidge’s heart pounded in alarm, keeping pace with the thrum of the engine. She stared at her mother’s face, trying to assess her reaction, but Colleen kept her face carefully blank.

“No.”

Pidge frowned, hands tightly gripping the armrest; she should’ve expected as much, but disappointment still made her heart plummet. “But—”

“You wouldn’t like it,” Colleen said. The truck accelerated, and they drove in silence for a few minutes, the only sound that of the radio’s speakers playing Queen.

Pidge faced forward, hands in her lap. She stared out the window, trying to admire the view like her mother suggested, but her buzzing thoughts occupied her.

“What’s the book about anyway?” she asked, voice quiet.

To her surprise, Colleen replied, “It’s about a war.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow. “That’s…that’s it?”

“Basically.”

“So you don’t want me to read it,” Pidge guessed, but before Colleen could respond, she suggested, “Maybe you could read it to me?” She couldn’t remember her mother ever reading aloud to her, though she had told her bedtime stories when she was younger.

Colleen tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and said, “That’s not much better.” Without waiting for Pidge to contradict her, she reached for the volume knob on the radio.

‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ succeeded in distracting Pidge from her pressing questions, at least for the moment.

They arrived at the apartment complex late in the evening, and Pidge waited in the truck while Colleen went into the leasing office to pick up their keys. She read from The Monster in Miami by streetlight, eyes glued to the page despite knowing she approached her least favorite part of the book.

Her mother opening the door startled her, and she reluctantly closed the book when she started the engine and drove into the complex towards their new apartment. “We’re in Building G, Apartment 5,” said Colleen, handing Pidge a key once she parked outside the right building.

Pidge took the key, thumb smoothing over rough pastel green paint. “G for green?” she wondered.

Colleen chuckled. “Maybe.”

They got out of the car, unloading as much as they could hold, and climbed up the stairs to the apartment door. Pidge glanced around the complex, taking in as much as she could in the low lighting, while Colleen unlocked and opened the door.

Exhausted, Pidge dropped her backpack and the box she held and collapsed face first onto the worn-looking brown sofa. She heard the flipping of a light switch, but the room remained dark to her, her eyes closed and face pressed into a rough couch cushion.

“Come on, love,” Colleen told her, patting the leg that stuck up in the air. “We need to unload everything before we can sleep.”

Pidge groaned but allowed her to convince her to follow her back outside and to the truck.

Afterwards, they made turkey sandwiches for dinner, and Pidge started unpacking her bedroom. She sighed when she realized the bookshelf in this room was too small for all her books, despite the whole space being larger than her old bedroom.

Pidge gave her favorite books shelf space and left the rest in a box. She dropped her current read on the bedside table, and set up her computer on the desk. Ignoring her suitcase of clothes for now, she booted up her computer and logged into the Wi-Fi.

A click later, the cursor blinked, waiting for her to type a query into a search engine. She tapped her finger against her mousepad, and after a glance at her closed bedroom door, she reached into her backpack and found the notebook she’d started compiling notes in. After flipping to the relevant page, Pidge searched for a local public library, navigated to its online catalogue, and typed ‘Voltron’ into the search bar.

No results.

Pidge raised an eyebrow at it; so it wasn’t a very popular book? She returned to the search engine and looked Voltron up from there, but to her surprise she found no related results with that.

“This is so weird,” she muttered. She scanned her notes from the night of Allura’s visit and searched ‘Zarkon’, and when that turned up nothing, she looked up ‘Allura’.

Still nothing.

Pidge sighed and shut her laptop. Maybe she could sift through Colleen’s books when she was out. But considering how overprotective her mother was, even staying home alone would be difficult.

[hennessy-jacen]

Jacen Hennessy (Pre-Henneson)

Basic Facts.

What is Your Character’s Name?

Jacen with a "c", Denver like the city, Hennessy like the brandy.

How does the character feel about his or her name?

I like it well enough. It's a great conversation starter.

How did he or she get this name? Was it passed on from a family member, or did the parents read it on the side of a cereal box the day the child was born?

My parents wanted to be unique? Just swapped an "s" for a "c", an "o" for an "e"? They met in Denver and my dad is super

Irish

. Like embarrassingly Irish.

What is the meaning of the name?

It comes from a Gaelic name that sounds similar but is spelled with more vowels than I can fit in my mouth.

What culture did the name originate from?

Irish.

Super

Irish.

What regions of the world did the name come from?

Ireland. Like many Irish things.

What connotations or stereotypes does the name have?

I'm an alcoholic from Colorado named Jason?

_____________________________________________________________________________________

How old is your character?

25

When was he or she born?

October 5, 1991

What events were happening locally, nationally and globally the year your character was born?

Terminator came out. My parents got into a fight cause my mom insisted on watching it in theaters six months pregnant. So basically Arnold Schwarzenegger is to blame for everything that's wrong with me.

What is the zodiac sign?

Libra

Does his or her zodiac sign have any bearing on their personality traits?

My mom says I have great patience like all good Libras.

What Chinese Horoscope year were they born in?

The year of the great goat lol

How does this influence their personality traits?

I make b-a-a-a-a-a-ad jokes?

How does your character like to celebrate his or her birthday?

Like it was any other day. It's a treat to be busy and have consistency in my day to day life. I'm fine if no one knows or cares.

What does your character look like?

Like a pasty hobbit?

Is your character Athletic or Overweight? Tall or Short?

I'm 5'9 so reaching for things is a struggle but they made sure I could lift three times my weight if push came to shove during paramedic training so I guess I have that going for me.

Hair color and length?

I used to have blonde hair when I was a kid but it got darker real quick. It's pretty brown now and I like keeping it short-ish. Just as long as it's out of my way, I'm good.

Eye color?

Bl...ue? I think that's what my license says.

Any scars or birth marks?

A couple of scars here and there just from getting scraped up on the job. Nothing serious.

Does your character have a physical disability?

No, thankfully and luckily, considering how easy it is to get bent out of shape in my job.

What actress or actor would you have play the role of your character if it was a movie?

Haha, maybe if I was more photogenic, tall, and muscular, Ryan Gosling. Basically, if I wasn't a pasty hobbit then Ryan Gosling.

What style of clothes does your character wear?

I like being comfortable. But I also like looking good when I don't

have

to be comfortable. I own a lot of flannel plaid, a couple of leather-ish jackets, a ton of jeans, a lot of t-shirts and a lot of sweatpants. Not very inventive.

What clothes would he or she wear every day on a casual basis?

All the plaid in the world. And then some.

For a night out on the town?

I own slacks. Somewhere. And some button-downs that aren't plaid. And cologne.

To bed?

Shorts or just my boxers.

Does he or she wear any special jewelry or accessories?

Can't really wear jewelry to work at the risk of it ending up on the ambulance floor and at that point it's gone forever.

What type of shoes does your character wear?

Sneakers for days. All the Dr. Scholl's you can handle is under my feet, day in, day out.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Where does your character live?

Girard Estates, South Philly.

Is it an Apartment? House? In the backseat of his car?

It's the second floor of a house so it's pretty comfortable.

How does your character feel about the current living arrangements?

Pretty comfortable lol I've been there for a while, I like it, it's home.

Does your character live with anyone else? Who are those people?

Not anymore.

How does your character get along with his or her neighbors?

My downstairs neighbors are pretty cool. Their dog shows up on my doorstep sometimes so that's cute, I guess? Who has a dog door on their front door and not the door leading into the backyard? Anyway, they're a couple, they're cool.

What is the view outside of your character's window?

Trees, hedges, sidewalk, some cars. Most people park in their garages or driveways though.

What items do they keep next to their bed?

My phone, my Fitbit, a lamp. A chapstick when it decides not to roll off on its own accord.

What is your character's most valuable possession?

I value all of my material things with the same amount of indifference lol I don't have anything crazy valuable. I guess I'd be mad if someone stole my TV or laptop or headphones but that's just cause they were expensive, not cause they're sentimental valuable. Unless you meant monetarily valuable cause then definitely my TV. The thing cost an arm and a leg.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

What does the character do for a living?

I'm a paramedic.

Do they find this work enjoyable?

Yeah, it's rewarding even though it's like 80% organized chaos and 20% escorting highly inebriated people to the drunk tank to sleep it off.

What is your character's dream job?

I guess I'd like to properly go to medical school someday, get my degree and all...but I also feel like I procrastinated it for too long. I'm 25, by the time I go to school and get into the practice I'll be ancient...I dunno. Maybe one day. I love it where I am though and I don't know if I'd miss the energy if being a paramedic if I was confined to a building all day.

What is your character's financial situation?

I'm doing good, I'm comfortable. I can get nice things that I want without having to think too hard about it so it's a luxury I feel like I'm lucky to have.

What does your character spend most of his/her money on?

I spend a lot of money on food. It's dumb, I like to treat myself to nice meals. That and recreation, I like new experiences a lot so I don't mind paying for like scuba diving lessons and stuff.

What would your character do if he or she won the lottery?

I'd probably help some people out, like pay some medical school bills for some friends. I know some really good people who help others out a lot that are drowning in crippling debt cause they made the decision to help others out and that's not fair. And then I'd probably get myself a really good steak.

W

hat is your character's highest level of education?

I have a bachelor's in health science.

What things do they wish were different about their current profession?

I wish there was a little better support from administration sometimes. I wish equipment wasn't updated once in a century. My hospital isn't one wealthy or high enough on the radar to get trial equipment so we have to wait the years it takes for licenses, patents, and mass production to roll out things to us that could save lives today. It's frustrating to know there's knowledge and equipment out there that's reserved for the richest, the best in politics, and so forth.

...Is it too late to say don't get me started?

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Who are his or her parents?

My dad is Caden and my mom is Angie. Hennessy.

Does he or she have any siblings?

Nope, they decided I was trouble enough. Kidding, I think they tried but it just didn't pan out before or after me.

A spouse or other romantic partner or love interest?

Not at the moment.

How about children?

The only person I figured I'd have children with left me so...no.

Other family? Aunts? Uncles? Second Cousins Twice Removed?

I have like 15 cousins. My parents both have a lot of siblings and a lot of them have kids who also have kids. Family reunions are kind of nutso.

How does your character feel about family functions and events?

Speaking of... lol They're okay, really. It's a lot of people but we usually rent out big parks or places where we can all exist without getting on too many nerves and there are ample hiding spots. The kids are cute and there's always good food and my parents always spoil me a bit hoping I don't get annoyed and stop showing up one year so that's nice too.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Who are your character's closest friends?

Mostly people I work with. I spend a lot of time with my squad so they really know me better than anyone else.

How did your character meet his or her best friend?

Work. I guess if I really had to pick someone I'm closest to on the squad it would be Jackson. I've known him since my first day on the squad, we started together.

What do they value most in friendship?

Fun, good naturedness. I like being able to relax, it's really important that I can just be myself around the people I hang out with.

Does your character make friends easily?

I guess. I don't get on people's shit list easily, I don't think.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

What was your character's first romantic encounter like?

Um embarrassing and in college? Also not totally sober? I went away for college so being away from home for the first time was an experience lol

How does your character display affection?

Uh...I like being close I guess? Like in proximity, I just like having people close and comfortable with me. I like holding hands and stuff. I dunno, just your generic stuff.

What is your character's idea of a perfect romantic date?

Something that makes us both really happy. Something meaningful. I like having a purpose when I go places, discovering things is so much more worthwhile with another person.

Has your character ever had his or her heart broken?

I mean, yeah.

What qualities does your character look for in a romantic partner?

The same stuff I look for in a good friend, I guess. I just want someone I can really be myself around. Someone that can make me smile and someone that I can make smile.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Does your character have any pets? What type?

Nope, I'm really not home enough to have a pet.

What are your characters favorite animals?

I like cats and dogs. I think it'd be kind of neat to have a ferret or a bearded dragon but I think I'd feel bad about keeping a bearded dragon in literally a tank all day.

How many times has your character visited the zoo?

I used to go a lot as a kid. My parents would bring me or I'd go with my cousins. Once for school, that was cool. I bought my parents a stuffed monkey from that trip and they still have it so I guess that's kind of important to me or whatever :')

_____________________________________________________________________________________

What are his or her favorite foods to eat?

I like a lot of things, food is literally my favorite. I like ramen and lamb and a lot of roasted greens. This is a hard question, I like a lot of things a lot.

Does he or she enjoy to cook?

Yeah. I get really ambitious and it isn't always excellent but I like to try.

Any food allergies or sensitivities?

No, thankfully.

What foods can he or she not stand to be around or eat?

My dad's family has a pallet for some things I don't love. Irish baked goods are just not that great and I don't get the hype about black and white pudding I'm soRRY I SAID IT YOU CAN KICK ME OUT NOW.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

How does your character spend a lazy Sunday afternoon?

Lazily lol I don't get up too late cause I know it'll throw off my routine but I like to make myself breakfast at my own pace and watch whatever I've been meaning to catch up on for days. Maybe make a trip to the grocery store and peruse the aisles at my own leisure. Come home and play some video games? If I'm gonna have a lazy day I'm gonna commit to total leisure.

What are their favorite places to go when alone?

With friends?

I like going to the park alone. Walks are nicer with a podcast to think about. I can be a part of society without actually bothering myself, it's basically perfect. If I'm with friends I like to get a drink or go play board games at someone's house, that's pretty neat.

Where would your character like to travel?

Anywhere! It would be great to take a break and just have the incentive to go somewhere and enjoy something new.

How does he or she want to get there?

Driving, flying? By boat. I don't care. I haven't found a mode of transport I've hated yet.

Does your character have preferences on types of lodging?

Not gonna lie, I'm not a roughing it kind of guy, I don't love fending for myself. I like somewhere with running water and internet at least. And no bugs. Don't like bugs.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

What are your characters favorite movies and TV shows?

I guess I like hour-long shows that I can really get invested in. Like Peaky Blinders and X-Files and stuff. I like getting immersed in the stuff I watch, which is a lot more TV than movies.

What are their favorite actors and actresses?

I like a lot of people. Peter Dinklage, Gillian Anderson, Sam Neill. A lot of people have a lot of talent. I have a fucking huge crush on Emma Thompson. That's embarrassing but she's literally so fun.

How often do they watch movies and/or television?

I usually watch TV to turn my brain off after a long day so often. Almost every evening? I usually watch something over dinner.

What genre of music would you find your character most likely listening to?

My iTunes is mostly rock, I guess.

When do they listen to music? In the car? While working?

When I'm working out. Or we play music in the ambulance sometimes when it's empty.

What artists and bands does your character enjoy listening to?

I like the Arctic Monkeys and The National and stuff like that. Stuff that I can really appreciate on noise-canceling headphones. If it can get me in my feelings I'm there.

W

ould your character go to a concert and enjoy it?

Yeah! I used to go to concerts a lot more often before but I do enjoy the experience if it's for the right band the right atmosphere.

Does your character play any musical instruments?

No. I used to play guitar when I was a kid but I lost interest ages ago.

What are his or her favorite books?

I don't read as much as I should...but I do like reading books of movies and TV shows after I watch them. When I can't get enough of the world it built it's nice to fill in the holes with the book.

What books are on his or her bookshelf at home?

A lot of my college reading material to make myself look smart to my dust bunny house guests. Plus all those movie and TV show books.

What titles does he or she borrow from the library?

I don't really go to the library. If I'm not sure enough about a book to order it online I usually don't get it at all.

What genre of books does your character enjoy reading?

Romance Fiction? Non-fiction? Thriller Crime Novels? Historical Fiction? Self-help? Poetry?

Historical fiction, post-apocalyptic, sci-fi, basically any kind of fiction really. I'm here for a good, gripping story.

What is your character's favorite quote and why?

“If not us, who? If not now, when?” ― John F. Kennedy

[omnical]

I Sing the Body Electric... (3/?)

( Previous - Next )

Summary: We find out a few things about Detective Fareeha Amari. (Previously titled Dead Bodies)

Genre: AU (Supernatural, Cyerpunk-ish elements).

Characters/Pairings: Fareeha, Pharmercy; minor: Angela, Lucio, Hanzo

Rating: T, mentions of third party violence and rock music

Links: AO3

Detective Fareeha Amari dug for her coat’s collar underneath the scarf wrapped around her neck, taking care not to jostle her injured arm.

Looking out into the pouring rain, she stepped through the medical examiner’s office entrance, its sliding doors closing behind her with a hiss of cold air. Fareeha carefully fumbled down the marble steps which lead to the sloping sidewalk, her shoes getting drenched from the wet pavement once more. She contemplated what to do next.

The roads outside were sleek; watery reflections of white streetlights and holographic shop signs dancing and glistening on uneven asphalt and dark bricks. The pavement was lined with a layer of fog, not quite thick enough to hide the gleam of her shoes. It rolled across sidewalk cracks, curling between lampposts like smoke from a cigarette. Under the cover of rain, the streets felt like a liminal space; the urban sprawl quieting down to a whisper. It almost felt like she was walking in an old 1980s music video. Fareeha bunched her shoulders up, rain falling on her like big fat pellets, plunging her in a world of filtered gray and blue. She pulled her collar further up her face with a careful tug, hoping to warm her cheeks.

But this is real, she thought, slowing her brisk march when she reached a flickering streetlight.

She looked up at the dented torch, squinting from the rain falling on her face. Fareeha leaned her shoulder against the post, and tapped a knuckle against its metal surface twice. Light shortly surrounded her like a hundred watt spotlight. Fareeha wrapped her arm around herself, and waited.

The commercial district in Bishop Street usually bustled on a normal weekday, full of grim-faced crowds too busy and harried to slow down. Today, however, Fareeha only saw a handful of strangers huddled in their own coats; different colored umbrellas casting shadows over their heads, trying to keep themselves away from the worst of the weather. Along the roads were several lined coffee shops and quiet novelty stores. Closer to the horizon, a sky bridge hovered a few blocks away near a car dealership and a vehicle maintenance office, where she could see faraway headlights gliding across the bridge.

Fareeha inhaled, filling her lungs with the city. The smog, the food wafting from diners and eateries nearby, the hot biofuel from passing cars. With her eyes closed, she imagined the good Dr. Ziegler waiting under the bus stop after a work shift, sitting on a greasy wooden bench, protected from the elements by a layer of dirty glass and metal bars…

Fareeha hated the rain. Not for the first time, she questioned her year-old decision of moving to a place which had an overabundance of it.

Rain felt oppressive, heavy and menacing; hiding the gloom, with time frozen at the tip of a decimal point. Cairo’s streets never had the problem of crime persisting under unrelenting weather, but here in King’s Row, criminals would come out like earthworms crawling out of the mud, rising as if exposed to an electrical current; ready to take advantage of lone wanderers, darker alleyways, and abandoned vehicles. While her old security job in Cairo kept her busy, criminal statistics here in King’s Row was another level altogether. It found Fareeha sleeping in her car’s backseat most nights, too exhausted and emotionally drained to drag herself back to her flat. She spent most of her wages buying fuel, and eating street-food out among her miserable fellow city dredges.

But now, as an endless row of dark and heavy clouds rolled across the sky, Fareeha found there was another malevolent side to the city. People often said that fear came from the unknown. Fareeha argued that knowing, sometimes, is worse than not knowing.

As if possessed by a desire to do something with her hands, Fareeha turned her wrist and read the time on her wristwatch. Her hand was shaking, but it was not from the cold. Two thirty-five P.M.

A red double-decker bus swept past Fareeha, its sides covered in blinking neon advertisements of current web celebrities, dwarfing her easily as it turned left. She watched it go, warmed by its hot engine as it passed.

A number of cars followed after, heading for busier highways. Their windows were black, leaving behind the sounds of humming engines and the break of wind speed as they glided towards their destinations. Her eyes idly watched as they all disappeared around the next turning signal.

Fareeha perked up when a familiar shape of another vehicle soon came into view. She stepped closer to the edge of the street to meet it.

Her car’s headlights appeared like two bright eyes in the dark as it approached its owner, the Raptora’s bulky form cutting through the curtain of rain. Its engines roared, then slowed to a stop in front of her. She gave its hood a fond pat.

“You’re late.”

Fareeha opened the car door and quickly gathered herself in the driver’s seat, the ends of her coat bundling up over her lap. Her hands already felt numb from the cold, and water from her hair trickled down to her back. Fareeha shivered. It wasn’t the best weather for a visit to Dr. Ziegler, but she had come anyway. It was sensible, even necessary, to keep everyone informed, was it not? Of course, most of their communications were through screens and encoded channels. Meeting a few times a day in her office, fascinated by the way the doctor’s mind processed information. Dr. Ziegler was… different. Good different.

What an odd woman.

She gripped the wheel and felt around its ridges for the fingerprint scanner hidden behind it. After finding the smooth glass panels, she allowed the module to scan her prints.

The vehicle’s inner-systems hummed to life, its dashboard lights, overhead LED’s, and the windshield display blinking like the eyes of a creature forced into wakefulness.

Vehicle status…

GPS…

Radio box…

She waited a moment, allowing Raptora to scan their external surroundings.

'Welcome back, Detective Amari.'

“Thank you, Raptora.”

‘There is currently nothing urgent pending, and there are no alerts from nearby city districts.'

“Good to know.” Fareeha said with a grunt, struggling to pull the seatbelt over herself with one hand, jamming it in her haste.

‘You are scheduled for an interrogation with Mrs. Eileen Finnegan at 1600 hours. No new reports for Case File: 712, 649, 447, 328…’

“Not so good to know.” She grumbled, clicking her seat belt into place after much difficulty.

With a sigh, Fareeha relaxed into her seat and reached under the passenger dashboard. She unlatched the car’s built-in laptop from underneath, pulling its sturdy metal tray towards herself. Fareeha rubbed her fingers together before opening its lid, and pressing the blinking, yellow button at the corner of its keyboard. She began to type a few keys.

‘You have a non-urgent callback from your Tracker. Patching him through.’

She chuckled. “With Hanzo? It’s always urgent.”

“Amari.”

Fareeha grimaced.

He must have heard that.

“I thought we were on first names basis now, Shimada?”

She bit the insides of her cheek, trying to stifle a laugh as Detective Shimada went silent, the grating radio static successfully expressing his displeasure.

Fareeha could almost see him glare at her from the other side of the frequency.

“Tell me.”

“We have the results from our tech’s video analysis for Case 765.”  He said, his keyboard clicking. “Quoting her report: ‘If I have to check this dumb video clip again, I will eat my equipment’. I believe her report strongly confirms she has found no further evidence of anything out of the ordinary.”

Fareeha cursed, her fingers raking through her hair. “Any good news?”

“Got a call about the wife, that Finnegan woman.”

“Eileen?”

“She cannot come for the interrogation today. I have just deleted it from your task list.”

“That’s not good news, Shimada.” She gripped the steering wheel tightly, drumming her fingers on the rim. “What happened?”

“Got the call thirty minutes ago. Neighbors and apartment staff reported she did not come home last night, and has been gone since yesterday.”

“Think she ran off before we got to her?”

“I am checking all nearby airports and train stations as we speak.” Shimada said, “Might be a good time to pay her a visit.”

“What is her address?”

Another minute of loud typing.

“I sent you the coordinates.”

“Appreciate it, Shimada”

“Don’t get shot.”

Shimada cut the audio on his side, leaving her alone with the sound of rain pelting the roof of her car, loud and cacophonous like the static of a dead television channel. Fareeha’s smile fell.

She pressed the back of her head against the leather headrest of her seat and exhaled, slow and steady, watching in a daze as her car’s wipers went back and forth across the windshield.

Stretching her numb fingers, she reached for the round metal knob of her radio and turned it on. A slow song began to play.

 Welcome, my son, welcome to the machine...

 The little girl woke up to the sight of a forest zipping by.

Her superhero posters and the toys on her desk were gone. Her desk was gone. Every morning she woke up to the sight of glow-in-the-dark stars hanging over her ceiling; her blinds half-open, allowing the morning light in. This looked nothing like her home.

Instead there were trees, yellow signposts, and guard rails blurring together into blotches of dizzying color.

She blinked, rubbing cold knuckles over her eyelids. For a moment, the girl had to take in a few seconds to remember where she was. Looking now at her surroundings, the girl’s mind caught up to her recent memories. They were not home anymore. They were so far away that girl did not know what this country was called anymore.

And there were so many trees.

The young girl did not wish to know what existed beyond the verdant landscapes; or beyond the faded blue mountains, which crested up into the sky like giant pointed specters. The view made her feel nauseous after staring at it for too long, and she had to look away, shaking her head. The girl supposed spending many days and nights riding a moving car for hours on end would make her stomach feel hollow and full of acid.

Up in the sky, the weather cast was blue and sunny from where she could see. It also looked windy, and pleasant, a good day. But the girl was starving, and she wished she could play outside with the children from back home instead. She imagined orange sunsets, drinking tea, and eating figs and nuts with her parents outside on the sandy balcony.

She hunched in her seat, watching thickets bearing spaces no wider than an inch or two apart whip past them as they drove far, far away. They have been driving for a long time, and she still did not know what day it was, or what time it was.

She hated traveling.

“We’re almost there, little one.”

The young girl frowned, looked down at her lap, and remained silent, fiddling with the hem of her jean jacket. The plastic yellow decoder ring around her thumb from yesterday’s cereal box was still sticky from the sugar and milk concoction she ate, but she found comfort in its weight. The girl took it off and worried it in her palm, turning the dials and trying to read a few random letters on the face.

“Still mad at me?” her mother asked, her voice rough from disuse. She sounded tired, and wary, but it was comforting for the girl to hear the familiar language again.

The girl said nothing. She pressed her head against the cool glass.

“I know you are, and I am sorry.” Her mother sighed. “I am so, so sorry. But we need to keep moving.”

“I want to go home.” the girl said, her voice soft, the hum of their vehicle drowning it out.

“We can’t, little one.”

“I want to know where ami is.”

“We’ll see her again soon.” her mother paused. “I know you’re afraid and confused – “

“I am not scared.”

“But you need to do exactly as I say. Okay?” The girl decided ignore how her mother’s voice shook. “I need to protect you now.”

“Thank you, but I can take care of myself.”

Fareeha slammed the car door shut, and looked up at the lush residential building.

It was an old and ancient structure, surrounded by well-trimmed trees and square hedgerows along the sides, separating it from the road. Its stern and sturdy form was unlike the grandiose arching designs of today’s modern architecture. It had stayed in the same place years after its construction in the mid-millennium, and Fareeha presumed it will stay in another twenty. Around the ancient building were newer structures, taller with narrower roofs reaching high into the sky; colorful hologram logos blinking and turning above every shop entrance. Talco Machinery. Jotunn Co. Kenwood Electronics.

Detective Amari felt out of place amongst the crowd of flashy local residents, their drab business suits and dresses well-starched and angular. Some were waiting for their valets, while the equally well-dressed residential staff kept their clients’ coiffed hair and makeup dry, lifting wide umbrellas decorated with a bright yellow logo above their heads patiently.

The well-dressed omnic who had approached Fareeha, holding up a dainty hand as if asking permission to collect her wet coat, nodded politely. “Very well, detective.” They lowered their arm. “Welcome to the Evergreen Complex.” The omnic opened an umbrella over her head with a flourish, and patiently waited for Fareeha to get out of her car and lock her vehicle. “We did not expect you would arrive this early.”

“Thanks… Mister, Miss…?”

“Mister Samwise-57, your loyal Residential Concierge, detective.” He nodded. “At your service.”

“I am Detective Fareeha Amari, King’s Row Constabulary. I believe you have spoken to my partner an hour ago?”

Samwise’s blue oculars blinked. “It has been most distressing.” he said, deflating visibly. “Especially considering what had happened to her husband. We are happy you came, detective. Please follow me.”

After making sure the Raptora was safely patrolling around the city district on its own, Detective Amari followed Mr. Samwise-57 to the building’s wide and golden entrance. Its well-kept exterior built with flared bricks fanning out in complex patterns, which made its design look rustic in its odd geometry. Rainwater gushed in mini-waterfalls from the white and yellow awning above its main entrance.

The door panels and curved handles were also colored gold, its surface was clear glass.

Another omnic opened the glass door and welcomed them with a small bow and an exaggerated sweep of an arm, their square jaw quirking as they smiled, and kindly told her to be careful of the slippery floors. Fareeha nodded back and mumbled a quick thank you in return. The lobby floors were spotless, and the carpeting was dry.

Warm air greeted her, and she shivered from the sudden shift in temperature. Her shoes squeaked over the shiny marble floors, sliding and squelching as she walked awkwardly to the reception. Miraculously, she did not slip.

The apartment’s lobby was a wide space, sparsely decorated, with minimalist sofas and a lingering smell of oranges. Two security guards sat behind a wide desk a walk away, watching her approach apprehensively. Detective Amari tugged her coat over herself, her hunched form making her look like a drowned castaway among the richer folk.

“Nice place, Samwise.”

The omnic perked up proudly. “Our staff works very hard to keep things going like a well-maintained machine, you could say.” He said.

A few of the tenants watched her, some murmuring about the detective’s sudden unsightly appearance. Some were sending her dirty looks as Detective Amari dripped puddles everywhere. Other, likely smarter individuals, noticed the embroidered badge and patch on her shoulder which read: ‘King’s Row Constabulary, Criminal Investigation Department. Nevertheless, they gave way to her tall presence, too busy reading the daily newspapers from their tablets, or hurrying to do their own businesses elsewhere.

“Do you happen to know Mrs. Finnegan in person, by any chance?” Fareeha asked, combing drooping strands of wet hair away from her face.

“She spoke to me a few times.” Samwise stuck his umbrella in a fancy copper bin nearby, which was already full of used wet umbrellas. “Lately to ask about her husband, but not much else.”

“Not a happy couple, I take it?”

“She wanted to make sure we caught her husband with a girl around his arm.” He said.

Once they approached the front desk, she signed her signature for the visitor’s record book, showing her badge to the security officers on-guard.

The elevator ride to the 54th floor took a while. Fareeha spent it in silence with the cheerful omnic by her side, who bounced along with the elevator jazz music.

In her mind, she was busy imagining Mrs. Finnegan’s daily routine. Retracing the woman’s journey every night, after coming back home from work.

The elevator was fairly spacious, and wide enough to fit ten people in. It was clean, the smell of perfume and cigarette smoke prominent, sticking on every surface. The wall behind them was covered in a large mirror, not a smudge marring its pristine surface.

Fareeha imagined Mrs. Finnegan fixing her make-up and hair in front of them every morning, every night.

The side walls were covered with a few LED display screens, which proudly advertised one ridiculously expensive product to another. Cheerful, multi-language voices from the ads rung out: perfumes, wristwatches, a fancy laundry service for the residents, and a ‘New Royal Mall on the Queen’s Walkway Boulevard! … Visit us today!’.

Fareeha lifted her eyes up, and saw a security cam overhead. Its small, red light blinking above its dark lense. She set her mouth to a thin line.

“You wouldn’t mind if I acquired copies of your security vids, would you?”

“Of course not, detective. Please feel free.”

Detective Amari mumbled a thank you, and grabbed a device from inside her coat, which looked like it could have fit around her wrist perfectly if one of her arms were not broken. It was as large as her hand, and it fit perfectly in her palm nonetheless. The front panel of the device split and slid apart, revealing a small glass screen. A few settings and actions appeared in blue letters. With difficulty, Detective Amari pressed a few keys on its panel with her thumb, sighing in annoyance when she found her fingers too short to work the device properly, but she managed to finish uploading the files to their database nonetheless.

The elevator dinged once it reached the 54th floor.

A long, and carpeted hallway greeted them. Fancy, seashell-shaped light fixtures hung in a precise row over the walls of the narrow hallway, each of them placed between an apartment door. The air was stale, and it smelt of leather, carpet shampoo, and – at one point, while passing room 5409 – the strong hint of brewing coffee.

Fareeha was also beginning to smell the stench of her sweat, fresh rain, and the streets hovering over her like a noxious aura.

They turned left.

“Mrs. Finnegan’s room is at the very end of this hallway, detective.” Samwise said.

“Didn’t expect this place to be huge.”

“Evergreen Complex is one of the oldest buildings in the district. Made of sturdy stuff, and recently renovated fifty years ago.” He said. “Quite close to the airport, with a train leading to the central hub a stop away. It is why most of our tenants never think about leaving.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to sell me a room.”

“Only if you can afford it, detective.”

“Ha.” Fareeha rubbed her nose with a finger, hiding her amusement at the omnic’s blithe response. “How long has Mrs. Finnegan been staying here with her husband?”

“Almost five years.”

“Do they have enemies? People they had an argument with that you know of?”

“Not to our knowledge, no.” Samwise paused. “They’re a quiet folk. Like to keep to themselves, not until their ‘domestic dispute’ reared its ugly head, at least.”

They reached the end of the hallway. The door facing them – room 5420 – seemed like any other door from the complex. Smooth lacquered wood, painted dark brown.

Fareeha reached for the doorbell and buzzed the room, hearing a musical bell jingle play inside. She waited, but heard no other sound. Fareeha’s eyebrows curled low in thought.

She turned to her guide. “May I?”

Samwise nodded, and took a few steps back, allowing her some space.

Detective Amari reached behind her ear – eyes taking in the sight of the door – and turned her virtual interface on, which filled her natural vision with a slight orange tinge and the glow of augmented reality. As the smart interface kicked in, it shortly began to scan her environment. A few details blinked in and out of Fareeha’s peripheral.

A collection of dirt and grime on the couple’s welcome mat.

Four different fingerprints on the doorknob, two from the husband and the wife.

The contents of the vase nearby had a layer of used cigarettes collecting at the bottom. Fareeha wrinkled her nose. It seemed like the local residents were not as disciplined as they liked to appear on the outside. She took note to check the discarded cigarette butts later.

Detective Amari waved away details she deemed unimportant with her hand, deciding to file them all in her memory banks in case they needed further inspection, and buzzed the doorbell again.

No sound, no movement. Not even a bio signature.

Damn. “She’s not here.”

“Our staff would have known anyone coming in or out of the building.” Samwise said, his computerized voice carrying a baffled tone. “Just like every morning, without fail, Mrs. Finnegan left for her workplace yesterday carrying nothing but her purse. She mentioned nothing about coming home late, or staying someplace else. None of our staff have seen her since.”

Detective Amari gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, her nose flaring as she exhaled.

“Thank you, Samwise.” Fareeha pulled the front of her coat down over herself. “You’ve been a great help.”

“You are welcome, Detective Amari.” Samwise said, angling his body away from her by a polite inch. “I hope you wouldn’t mind, but I must go back to my duties. Please do feel free to leave any time you wish. I believe you know your way to the lift?”

Detective Amari nodded, still staring at the door long after the omnic turned around and left, the sound of his loafer shoes muffled by the carpet.

Her brain was screaming.

Fareeha stretched her hand out and pressed the pads of her fingers a few inches below the eyehole.

“No.” Fareeha narrowed her eyes. “It can’t be.”

She froze. Fareeha took a peek behind her in case someone else was watching. She traced something on the wood.

Fifteen minutes later, Detective Fareeha Amari left Evergreen Complex in a hurry, her face gaunt and set in stone. The back of her coat flying behind her as if she was being chased by a ghost she did not wish to see.

Her mother held out her hand. Her eyes tired, dark, and yet still full of love.

The young girl bit her lower lip, but relented. She turned in place from where she sat on the hood of the car, and dropped the plastic decoder ring in her mother’s open palm.

“You like this cartoon?” Her mother asked, her slim finger tracing the grinning cartoon dinosaur decorated along the ring.

“I have never seen it before.”

After driving long into the evening, crossing strange red and purple landscapes which beheld giant loping shapes, they finally stopped under the protection of the glowing moon and the shade of black sky. Her mother had parked the car behind a large sign which, the girl presumed, showed directions to places she had yet to see. For now, her mother thought they were safe enough, and so they sat, and waited, and listened.

Her mother held out her palm again, as if boasting her novice showmanship, showing the girl where the ring was placed in the middle of her hand. She closed her hand into a tight fist, and with a twinkling eye, her mother twisted her wrist and waved her other hand over it. A genuine smile teased the woman’s lips, which finally replaced the lines of worry etched prominently on her face for weeks now. The girl perked up and reached for her curled fingers, prying them open. The ring was gone.

“Where did it go?” The girl asked.

Her mother chuckled.

She reached behind the side of her head, and as if plucking it from her ear, revealed the toy ring and its grinning dinosaur. Its shade now a powder blue. Her favorite color.

The girl bounced where she sat. “How did you do that?”

“Magicians never reveal their secrets.” Her mother smiled, booping her nose. “But I can make an exception for you, little wonder.”

“You will teach me someday?”

Her mother wrapped an arm around her daughter, rubbing her back. “I will, when you are ready.” She said, pressing a kiss in her messy hair.

“Mama…”

“Look at you, you have dirt all over your face. We need to find you a cozy room with a big tub, huh?”

“Mama, I’m sorry.” the girl said, ducking her head. Her mother fell silent, but the girl felt her chest hitch, making her wince. “I’m sorry that I got angry at you. I don’t hate you.”

“It’s all right, my dear.”

“I’ll be good next time.” The girl wrapped her heavy arms around her mother in a tight hug, sniffling. “I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Her mother caressed her cheek. She smoothed out the knots from her daughter’s black hair, feeling the front of her shirt grow warm from freshly spilled tears.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed to feel afraid, habibti. Your ami and I are sorry you had to go through all of this.” She enfolded the girl in her arms. Draping them desperately around her, as if trying to shield her away from the world. “Especially me. This is all my fault.”

“It’s not, mama, it’s those men…”

“Hush, don’t think of them again.” Her mother’s voice wavered, choking through her words. “Ami will come back, and the three of us will be here together, like before. Won’t that be something?”

The girl nodded, her tears burning her eyes and cooling her cheeks.

“I will always be with you. And I will never abandon you, Fareeha.” Her mother said. “I will do everything in my power to keep you safe…

“No matter what.”

Detective Shimada jumped when a paper bag almost toppled the steaming cup of tea on his keyboard.

He glared at the offending object, its lower half translucent from an unholy amount of grease seeped into the paper, while something savory and spicy wafted from the crinkled opening. He looked up at the newcomer, and raised an eyebrow. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” A sniffle. “You look great, by the way. Got you samosas.”

“You should follow Morrison’s advice and take a few days off.” Shimada said, curling his lip at the mess of rainwater she dripped all over his desk. He wiped them away with the bottom half of the greasy paper bag. Shimada took off his earpiece, and pushed his keyboard to the side, making small room for lunch amongst his stack of organized files. “Want some?”

“Go ahead. Already ate my share.”

He ripped the paper bag open wide, and grabbed a cold, poorly wrapped pastry. It smelled like spiced potatoes and peas.

“You forgot the chutney again, didn’t you?”

Amari grunted in reply.

She headed for her own desk, opposite his larger work station fit for a Tracker, dripping rain water and spreading puddles everywhere she went. Her leather chair squelched as she sat.

“How was the – “

Amari released a watery cough, holding her fist firmly in front of her mouth.

Shimada shook his head. “Take some time off.” He slid his tissue box over to her desk. “Make it a week. I don’t want to catch whatever you have.”

“I can feel your love and concern emanating from here, Shimada.”

Her partner muttered angrily at her in his language, before continuing to type up their report with one hand, while guiding food to his mouth with his other.

“Did you get the vids I sent you?” Fareeha asked, taking a tissue paper from the box to blow her stuffy nose with.

“Nothing there.” Shimada said. He looked up from his work, peering at her above one of his many monitors. “Unless you wish to add ‘indecent public displays of affection’ or ‘public nudity’ as one of our cases?”

Amari didn’t reply. She sat in silence for a while, her nose and eyes flushed red as she stared at her own station front of her. Her desk was sparsely decorated compared to her partner’s collection of figurines and pictures from his home life, but Fareeha supposed she preferred it that way. She had a coffee cup full of used pens at the corner, and a tray where all her memory bank chips were organized into a collection of stacks.

“I didn’t find anything, either.” She said. “No new witnesses, nothing. Her co-workers said she left early. No one else saw her.”

“Our job just keeps getting easier, no?”

“How about you, how’s your search going?”

“Still waiting for confirmation from a few airports in the country.” Shimada said, pausing to chew his food. “Otherwise, I have found no trace of her, so far.”

“Hope it’s not another dead end.”

“Morrison might throw a fit.”

Fareeha snorted.

He swallowed another bite. “What are you doing here, Amari?” He asked. “I thought you weren’t coming in until later?”

“I have to make a call.”

Shimada narrowed his eyes and made a face. He leaned sideways in his seat, tensing when he got a better look at his partner, and realized how her eyes were bloodshot and dull. He whispered. “An encrypted phone call?”

She sent him a look over one of his monitors. Shimada didn’t reply, and wisely decided to look focus back on his work while finishing his food.

Fareeha stared at the phone next to her workstation. She nibbled her lower lip and – after a moment’s hesitation – grabbed the phone and dialed a long number. Nobody answered, but she was not surprised. The call switched to voice mail.

“Hey, Jesse.” Fareeha cleared her throat when it cracked from a rising cough, and definitely not because she felt nervous. She licked her lips, turning her chair away from Shimada’s curious look. “Been a while. Listen, call me back. It’s urgent.” Fareeha swallowed and felt her chest seize up, but she managed to keep herself calm and continued to speak. “I think there’s going to be a ‘family reunion’, or something like it. Not sure if your ‘dad’ is coming. He just sent me a message, earlier. I hope he will come this time.” She doesn’t. “Anyway, call me back. Please. And not a week too late this time, or I’ll kick your ass.”

Fareeha hung up. She leaned back in her chair and grabbed the orange stress ball from inside  her coat.

“Hm.” Shimada grunted, his eyes going back to his workstation. “Family shit?”

Fareeha exhaled, and allowed herself to relax once she realized Shimada wouldn’t push her to speak. She knew they both had their fair share of secrets. Things Morrison and the others didn’t need to know, especially. She appreciated that.

“Yeah.” Fareeha said, falling into her chair, pushing it as far back as she could. She closed her eyes. “Family shit.”

A/N: ok so here’s the thing, we did not expect to give this story some cyberpunk-ish elements. This was supposed to be a one shot set in modern era with some pretty basic mystery stuff, but I guess here we are? After planning the story further along, plotting out the bits and bobs and doodads, we decided welp. Hey, why not add more and make our job a tad bit harder?

Angela will return again in the next chapter, so prepare for more dead bodies in  chap 4!

And yes, Fareeha’s Raptora is a cop car… I’m totally not thinking Knight Rider ha ha what’re you talking about…..

(also, yes, we finally decided to change the title.. did a little bit of a fic renovation, so to speak… hopefully my writing partner won’t kill me :D)Lastly, I would like to thank my writing partner in crime, best brother Tobe for his awesome help as always. (you’re the best I love you dude)

[rebelmeg]

65 Questions You Aren't Used To

(I know, it’s an ask meme, but... I just kinda want to do them all.  I LOVE this kinda stuff, it’s like writing a nifty journal entry for people that suck at journals, like me.)

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?  Um, no... they’re right there.

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?  1.  I’m very comfortable in the dark.

3. The person you would never want to meet?  Donald Trump was the first to spring to mind.

4. What is your favorite word?  Popcorn.  (Because it visually appeals to me, and it feels nice to say.  I know, that made literally zero sense.  I know.)

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?  I always fancied myself a weeping willow, but there is literally nothing willowy about me.  Ooh, ooh, can I be a fruitless pear tree?!  They turn every color from yellow to purple in autumn and they’re so pretty!

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?  Probably something like, “Ew,” or “I need to shower,”.

7. What shirt are you wearing?  It’s cute!  It’s a gray tunic with a deep V in the front with lacing, and the words, “I’d Rather Not.”

8. What do you label yourself as?  Writer.

9. Bright room or dark room?  Bright when I’m working, dim when things are winding down, dark as sin when sleeping.

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?  Same thing I’m doing now, screwing around on Tumblr when I should be finishing up and going to bed.

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? 17 was a good year for me, I found the other half of my heart.  Everything before and after was basically a crap shoot.

12. Who told you they loved you last?  My daughters.

13. Your worst enemy?  Probably myself.

14. What is your current desktop picture?  It’s doing a slideshow through my saved file of New Years pictures.

15. Do you like someone?  Romantically, just my hubby.  He’s awfully cute.

16. The last song you listened to?  Listening to “U and Ur Hand” by P!nk right now.

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?  No one wants me to have this responsibility.

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? I could prepare a list...

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?  Oh geez, I have no idea.  Who wants to be my slave and clean my house?

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)  My eyes!  I have pretty eyes.

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?  I’ve got no idea what I’d look like, I’ve got too much boob and hip going on.  I’ll be honest, I’d have to have at least one orgasm, because I’ve always wondered what the difference is.  

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?  Secret?  Not really, I’m pretty open with all my talents.  

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?  Family members dying.  I’ve never had a close family member die, and I’m like... ridiculously afraid of that (especially my husband and kids), especially since I’m deeply religious.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.  The #11 at Jimmy Johns, plus bacon.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?  Probably on something stupid.  Discount Christmas shirts (I only have one), stuff on my wish.com list and Amazon list, that kind of thing.  Takeout from Arby’s.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?  Europe!

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?  Um... yeah, I don’t drink so... maybe the rarest, most expensive liquor known to man.  I’ll sell it and be rich.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?  No littering.

29. What is your favorite expletive?  I can’t say, I’m trying to quit.  (And it’s a bad one.)  If we’re doing PG rated expletives, I’ve taken to using “son of a nutcracker” and “oh my honk” pretty frequently...

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?  LAPTOP.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?  I know what it is.  But I’m not telling all y’all because it’s horrifically embarrassing.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!  SCOTLAND.  It only gets, like, into the 70′s there in the summer.  I can dig that.  I’m a freaking polar bear.  (Do I get to pick the celebrities I get to fictionally sleep with, because I’ve prepared a list...)

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?  Like, for a visit, or for permanent?  Because that’s different.  If it was for a visit, I’d bring back one of my two grandparents that have died.  I have QUESTIONS.  If it was for permanent... if an early term, miscarried baby counts, I’d bring back mine.

34. What was your last dream about?  I only get dreams when I’m in that weird “not 100% sleep” state, and man are they bizarre.... and I rarely remember them, but you can trust me that it was weird.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?  Yes.  Yes I am.  Exceptionally.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?  Several times, yeah.  Most of them for baby things.  (I had the baby, I was not the baby.)

37. Have you ever built a snowman?  Oh yes.  Not yet this year though, not a really awesome snowfall yet, just a few inches.

38. What is the color of your socks?  I’m wearing neon pink and navy blue Black Widow socks that I got from my hubby for Christmas!

39. What type of music do you like?  Most of it.  Seriously.  Country, rock, pop, oldies, alternative, instrumental, show tunes, classical, movie scores, Disney, Celtic and Irish.... seriously.  Most of it.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?  Sunsets, sunrises are full of tiredness.

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?  Depends on my mood, really.

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)  I... don’t.  I’m not a sports person unless the Olympics are involved.

43. Do you have any scars?  Lots, yeah.  Biggest is my c-section scar(s), my favorite is the one on my middle finger from when I sliced it open trying to set up a trampoline.  Pro tip, wear gloves, because those springs can slice your finger open when pulled back and loosed.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?  I’ve already graduated (high school, never went to college and I don’t regret it), I wanted to be married and happy.  I’ve mostly succeeded.  Still chasing happiness, but I get the golden moments enough that I can call it successful.

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?  Probably body size, mostly because they don’t have a lot of cute clothes in my size and I have no power to change that sad standard.

46. Are you reliable?  Almost 100%, yes.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?  How does Infinity War and Avengers 4 end?

48. Do you hold grudges?  Big ones, yes.  Little ones, not so much.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?  Panda peacock.  Because a cute, cuddly panda with peacock colors?  Best.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?  Someone trying to goad me into participating in one of their infantilization fantasies that made me feel extremely uncomfortable.

51. Are you a good liar?  I’m an excellent liar.  I shouldn’t be proud of that.  I am.

52. How long could you go without talking?  Does talking to myself count, because I do that a lot...

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?  The awkward between-phase after I did a shoulder-length bob and needed to grow it out again after my perm started to lose strength too.  Poof.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?  Tons of times.  I made my own birthday cake this year.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?  I do a pretty decent British (a few dialects), I can pull of Australian, Irish, Scottish, New Zealand, French, and occasionally Russian or German, as long as I get a good audio clip first to jump off of.

56. What do you like on your toast?  Butter, or butter with jam/jelly or cinnamon sugar.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?  A terrible sketch of Marty the zebra from Madagascar for my three year old.

58. What would be you dream car?  A big honking pick-up truck with the full backseat and excellent gas mileage and fuel efficiency.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.  Okay, the way that is worded is hilarious.  I do sing sometimes, when I’ve got music going, but I am pretty quiet since neighbors.  I don’t usually do anything unusual, except sticking my loose hairs to the wall so I can wad them up and throw it all away rather than it going down the drain and clogging it.

60. Do you believe in aliens?  Not in the traditional sense, but I know we’re not alone.  It’s based in religion.

61. Do you often read your horoscope?  Rarely.  When it pops up in magazines from last year or whatever.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?  M, probably, for my name.  And, fun trivia, M is the 13th letter of the alphabet, which puts it smack in the middle.

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?  DRAGONS.  I’d have a dragon as a pet if I could.  Hagrid and Charlie Weasley would be over all the time.

64. What do you think about babies?  They’re cuuuute.  Most of the time.  Mine were cutest.

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.  If anyone thinks of something, do ask me.  I seriously love this stuff!

[superwholock-marvel-images]

Through time and space 10

When you and your siblings run into your dad again he says that he thought vampires were extinct. “Yeah, they’re not even close to extinct.” You say readjusting yourself so three people can sit comfortably in the backseat. “Well at least in the UK.”

“What do you mean?” Your dad asks.

“First of all, I’ve had my fair share of running into vamps. Secondly, my flatmate Sherlock unintentionally brought one into the flat.”

“Are you meaning the head in the fridge?” Dean asks looking at you through the rearview mirror.

“Yes, but seriously that isn’t the weirdest thing that has happened within the walls of that flat.” You lean your head on Katie’s shoulder. “John and Sherlock fall into their own column of crazy.”

You’re awake long before the rest of your family, mainly because your phone went off… Mycroft was calling- and since you didn’t want to talk to the British government, you hit the reject button. “Morning Dad.” You say looking up from your laptop when your dad walks out of the bathroom.

“Morning kiddo.” Your dad replies. “How long have you been up?”

“Since about 4:30 this morning. I already made a breakfast run if you’re hungry.” You gesture to the paper bag next to you. You then return your attention to your laptop screen, taking a sip of lukewarm coffee. “Since I didn’t know when everyone else would be up I just got myself some coffee, sorry about that.” Your dad just chuckles… that is the closest thing to a laugh you’re going to get.

You and your dad sit in silence, the only sounds that can be heard is you typing and the radio doing the police dispatch. Your dad stands up and grabs his coat. “Sam, Dean, Katie let’s go.” He says slapping the foot of both beds waking up your siblings. “I picked up a police call.”

Sam sits up with bleary eyes. “What happened?” He asks.

“A couple called 911, found a body in the street. Cops got there everyone was missing. It’s the vampires.”

“How do you know?” Sam is half out of bed by now. Your dad says to follow his lead as he walks out of the room.

“Breakfast is on the table if you want it.” You say putting your computer in your bag before throwing your bag over your shoulder and following your dad. Sam grabs your wrist stopping you in your tracks.

“What has gotten into you Squirt?” He asks. You furrow your eyebrows together.

“What do you mean?”

“For one thing you’re on edge.” You brother points out. “You’re also being Dad’s perfect soldier, normally when you get an order you ignore it or at least do it your own way.”

“I’m on edge? Have you seen yourself recently Sammy, you’ve been wound up since we bumped into Dad.”

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

“Someone is going to get hurt if you two don’t knock off this fucking bullshit!” You exclaim shoving your dad and Sam apart. You throw each of them a glare before walking away from both of them and pulling out your phone. You’re almost done typing in Rose’s number into your phone when someone places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t leave please.” Dean says. His candy apple green eyes look at you pleadingly.

“What else can I do De?” You ask in response.

“I’m not sure kiddo, but running away will only create more problems… besides, you know how the Doctor is. He tries to bring you back to the same time you left- sometimes you can be gone for a minute upwards of a year.” You let out a dry chuckle.

“Fair enough.” You look at your phone then hit the cancel button. “So what now?” Dean glances over his shoulder and lets out a sigh.

“We’ll figure out something.”

“We always do… race ya back to the car.”

“You’re so going to lose.”

“I highly doubt it.” With that you and your eldest brother race back to the Impala where Sam and Katie are waiting.

After the ordeal with the vampires, your dad is reluctant but he knows the five of you are stronger as a family then apart. While looking for this yellow-eyed demon, your dad gets a call from someone letting him know that Pastor Jim was just murdered.

“You’re kidding!” You exclaim. “Who would kill Pastor Jim?!”

“A demon would.” Sam bitterly replies.

“Whoa hold up, I thought we had the hallowed ground talk before Sammy…”

“Ghosts…yes. Demons…no.” You throw your brother an unconvinced look.

“Ass.” You mutter, Sam laughs lightly.

“Dork.” He playfully retorts.

The five of you split up to cover more ground. You pull your psychic paper out of your bag and shove it into your back pocket. While walking you accidentally collide with someone- and that someone just happens to be Rose Tyler. You also hit your head when you collided with her. “That was one of the more painful ways of saying hello.” You say rubbing your now throbbing forehead.

“Sorry Y/N.” Rose replies. “You alright?”

“I will be… give me a minute though.” Rose chuckles as the Doctor walks over to the two of you on a brown pinstriped suit, converse, and a trench coat. “Nice outfit Doc.”

“I could say the same thing about yours.” The Doctor replies, causing you to laugh. “So what brings you here?”

“Demon, what about you?”

“The TARDIS.” You snicker. While you and your friends are talking someone scares you half to death when they put a hand on your shoulder. “Jesus Christ, Katie!” You exclaim when you see that it’s just your sister. “Trying to give me another heart attack?”

“No.” Your sister answers. “Everyone except you is already back at the motel…”

“You’re here too, so not everyone is back yet.” 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -The Doctor’s POV- Something is a little off as the Winchester girls walk away- for one thing, Y/N left her bag that has her laptop in it. I pick it up and set it on top of the control consul in the TARDIS. Because I want to return my friend’s bag to her, Rose and I end up slightly stalking Y/N and her family.

Everything seems normal, well for the Winchesters until the four siblings leave town and head to the house of Bobby Singer. Y/N has mentioned him a few times, she’s also shown me a few photos. That is how I know who this man is. “I don’t understand why did they flee?” Rose asks.

“My guess is as good as yours.” I reply.

“Calling her won’t do much good… it will inform Y/N we’re following her.”

“I’m not too worried about that, I’m more concerned about Y/N and her family doing something dumb enough to get them all killed.”

The way how Y/N and her siblings work together to get their dad back is rather impressive. The five of them once again flee to an out of the way place. Rose and I decide to go visit Y/N and return her bag- although I forget to unplug her laptop from the control consul and put it back in her bag. When Rose knocks Y/N opens the door and she has a gun pointed at us. When she sees it’s us she quickly shoves the gun into the waistband of her jeans. “Holy shit you guys don’t do that!” She states.

“Y/N?” I hear Dean ask, Y/N looks back into the cabin.

“It’s just the Doctor and Rose, Dean.” She says to her brother. Dean says something in response, Y/N nods slightly then invites us in then shuts the door behind us.

“Here, you left your bag in Salvation.” I say handing Y/N her bag. “We kind of had to follow you guys to return it to you.”

“Huh, I was wondering where I put this thing.” She then opens it up and notices the lack of laptop. “Where’s my computer?”

“Currently in the TARDIS, charging. Sorry forgot to grab it.” I answer. Y/N laughs. “Want me to go get it?”

“No!” Y/N, Katie, and Sam say in unison.

“Why not?” Rose asks sounding shocked.

“At the moment it is too dangerous for any of us to be out there.” Katie explains.

“Katie has a point, besides I seriously don’t want to go through that regeneration crisis again.” Y/N adds in.

Rose and I can’t do anything, except stare when Dean starts coughing up blood. Rose and Katie actually scream when the demon possessing John Winchester pulls the gun out of Y/N’s waistband and shoots her dangerously close to the heart. That’s when John starts fighting back. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -Baker street, no one’s POV.- Within the walls of 221b Baker Street, a heavy cloud of worry engulfs the flat. John nor Sherlock have heard from you for an entire week. The last time they heard from you was when the Doctor first regenerated and passed out in one of your motel beds. “Y/N is more than likely traveling with the Doctor and she lost track of time.” John says trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t know and I really don’t like knowing.” Sherlock replies. He then turns to look at the mantle of the fireplace. Right next to his beloved skull is a wooden picture frame, and within the frame is a picture worth more than a million words.

The picture is of you, Sherlock and John, standing with your backs to the Thames on a somewhat foggy day. All of you are laughing and blushing a little bit. The reason for the blush is mainly because you kissed both Sherlock and John on the cheek just before the picture was taken. The laughter is just the aftermath of you kissing two of your best friends on the cheeks.

“Sherlock are you seeing clients today?” Mrs. Hudson asks walking up the stairs, with a man in a brown pinstriped suit, converse, and a trench coat.

“No.” Sherlock sulkily replies.

“Well guess it is a good thing that I’m not a client then.” The man answers walking into the flat. “I’m the Doctor, and I believe we have a mutual friend.”

“And who would that be?”

“Y/N Winchester.” Sherlock stops dead in his tracks.

“Is she okay?” John asks getting out of his chair and walking over to the strange man.

“That’s why I’m here.” The Doctor runs a hand through his hair. “A hunt went horribly wrong.”

“What happened?” Sherlock demands.

“A demon shot Y/N in the chest.”

@the-third-winchester-warrior

@flannels-and-rocksalt

@always-keep-writing-spn

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@caroldanversinatardis

@spnkisum

@thewinsisterchronicles

[cursivesugg]

Brighton || Joe Sugg

Requests are currently [ CLOSED ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 2.2k+

A/N: This is a request from a while ago that I could never find inspiration for but now here it is, better late than never huh?? Remember, requests take longer to write because I like to make them 100% and a lot longer than my usual imagines, so if you have requested an imagine please be patient, I promise It’ll be posted at some point xo

"M'so sleepy." You mumble, mostly to yourself but partly toward Joe as you walked into his office with the duvet wrapped around your shoulder and your bottom lip jutted out.

He turns his vlogging camera toward you and throws his head back in laughter at the state of you. "Oh my god, you look like Dobby the house elf."

You roll your eyes and tug the heavy quilt closer to your body, grabbing the iPad from his desk before sitting down on the floor with your back against the wall as he continued to explain to his viewers what your plans for the day were. You turn the screen on and go onto the Tumblr app, already logged into your account seeing as Joe wasn't active on his; both a blessing and a curse. You'd pay to watch him scroll down the 'thatcherjoe' tag.

"You wanna tell the viewers what you're gonna be doing this morning, gorgeous?" Joe asks, and you look up from the screen with your face scrunched up. "I'll take that as a no." He chuckles amusedly, turning the phone back to himself and rolling his eyes. "See what I have to put up with every morning guys? Madness." He declares, smiling at the camera for just a second longer before he covered the lens with his end and stopped recording.

You look up from the iPad screen when he stands up to readjust his green screen, biting your lip curiously. "What're you filming?"

He glances down at you and shrugs. "Well, there's finally a new episode of The Walking Dead out for me to film, and then if I've got time I'll probably film another Sims video." You hum in understanding and let your eyes follow him around the room as he begins to set up his equipment. He glances at you over his shoulder and grins. "You staying to watch, love?"

Biting the skin on the inside of your cheek, you nod and push your head into the comforting duvet. "Maybe for a while, but then I need to go pack."

He nods and flicks on one of his umbrella lights making you mean and look away with a wince, only looking up when he crouches down in-front of you and cups your cheeks in his hands, brushing his lips against your and smiling. "Goodmorning, pretty."

"Morning, handsome." You mumble, pulling away from his lips before kissing him quickly once more before he stood back up and walked over to his gaming chair, turning on the camera and his microphone before slipping his headphones onto his ears and filming his intro.

You only managed to stay in the insanely bright room for around twenty minutes before you abandoned the duvet and proceeded to walk around the apartment in just your underwear, which wasn't so much of a rare occurrence as it perhaps should've been. You contemplate whether or not to make food, but breakfast had never really been your forte anyways so you eventually decide not to bother and instead head up to the bedroom to start packing.

Joe was done within the next hour or so, which meant you could finally stop attempting to pack what he needed and instead leave him to sort his own things out as you finalize everything you needed for the day. By the time you were done and had made a quick smoothie for you and Joe to share, the Uber had arrived to take you and Joe to Tanya's, where she was waiting to give you both a life into Brighton.

Luckily Tan only lived around twenty minutes away, and so the uber ride was relatively short, but still long enough for yourself and Joe to have a quiet conversation about the movie you'd both watched the night before as you shared the green smoothie. You pull up to Tanya's house and thank the driver before jumping out and walking up to the front door, knocking twice and sharing a silly look as you waited for the door to be opened.

Tan opens the door with a wide smile on her face as she squeals and pulls you both into quick hugs before beckoning you inside and apologizing for Martha, who was barking at your feet, excited to see you again after what seemed to have been forever. Seeing as you were already slightly late, you can only spend a small amount of time at Tanya's, which was mostly spent having a playfight with Jim on the living room floor which you were ninety-eight percent sure Joe had captured for his vlog.

Soon enough you found yourself sat in the back of Tanya's car with your laptop open in your lap, drafting up a few emails and laughing at Joe as he made a stupid joke before pulling our his phone and holding it up.

"Is this an instagram story or a vlog?" Tanya asks quietly as she watched Joe hold up his phone from the corner of her eye all whilst checking her mirrors. They'd stopped at a red light, and joe had taken that as his chance to continue vlogging.

"A vlog. So we're on route to Brighton." Joe says as he holds the camera higher and Tanya begins to wave. "Tan is at the wheel! We've actually made it, well- I mean, how far into the journey actually are we?" He asks, though before either of the girls could answer he works it out himself. "Like an hour into the journey almost."

"Half an hour." Tanya corrects and Joe nods.

"Half an hour into the journey, and we're still here." He grins, fist-pumping the air as he glanced out of his window for a split second as tan began to talk.

"We're still alive." She smiles widely, tilting her head towards the camera as she spoke.

"Which is surprising since Tan hasn't driven in a bloody long time." You pipe up, closing your laptop and putting it on the seat next to you before leaning forward and smiling at the vlog.

Tan laughs and shakes her head. "No- oh and, also, are we going to get to any big roads?"

Joe nods. "Well, yeah. We're actually gonna be going onto a motorway at one point."

"Do you think we actually will though?" She asks, a frown on her face as she tried desperately to stay positive about the whole situation.

You laugh and nod, causing Joe to tilt the camera toward you. "I'm pretty sure we will, yeah." Tan sighs and chuckles a little when you eye her suspiciously. "When was the last time you drove on a motorway, Tan?"

"About four years ago." She replies, turning back to face the road as you share a look with Joe before sinking back into your seat and smiling to yourself as your boyfriend continues to tease the driver on camera and you proceed to continue writing up a few emails that you'd been ignoring for the past day or so.

The drive was full of laughter and groaning as you got stuck in traffic in Croydon, though you managed to make it through the entire journey without complaining once that it was taking too long, something Joe grinned and praised you on when you arrived at the Zalfie household, much to Tan's amusement.

There was a flurry of hello's and hugs and happy birthday's before everyone piled into the bigger car, Joe, yourself and Tan in the backseats as Zoe and Alfie sat in the front. The two Sugg's both began to vlog at the same time and you couldn't help but laugh when Joe gave up and held his phone down, frowning grumpily as Zoe continued to vlog. "So we've got Joe and (Y/N) in the back, Tan." She draws out Tan's name. "You're like our three kids."

"Incest!" You yelled out in amusement at the exact same moment as Joe yelled, "I'm an astronaut!" Equally as loudly making you groan and cover your ears and nudge him softly. He laughs and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head as Alfie begins to back out of the driveway.

You arrived at the hotel in no time, and checking in proved hardly any trouble compared to a few other times you'd had to check into a hotel just for one night. But luck seemed to be on your side that day.

You and Joe walk hand in hand up to the room, having parted ways with the rest of the group in the lobby once everyone had acquired their room keys.

Walking into the room first, you grin widely and place your luggage down onto the queen sized bed before you started checking out the place. Satisfied, you sit on the bed with your legs crossed and a smile of content on your face as you open up your handbag and bring your phone out.

"Tell you what guys, I have made t to my room here in the Artist- oh, what was it called?" He furrows his brows in confusion as he shows the vlog parts of the room.

"Artist Residence." You remind him, your voice soft and a small smile on your face as he glances back at you with a grateful wink.

"Artist Residence, uh, in Brighton. And all this reclaimed stuff looks incredible. And they have Joe's tea, um, 'welcome to the Artist Residence in Brighton. Have a few drinks on us', smiley face." He pans the camera down on the handwritten note as he reads it aloud. "And two drink vouchers. But everything about this room, like, I love the finish. Like this whole vintage type of stuff is incredible."

"It really is beautiful." You add in agreement, nodding your head as Joe turns the camera toward you. "Have you showed them the view yet?"

He shakes his head and clicks his fingers, walking over to the window and beginning to talk about the view and the I360 that was perfectly centre in the view from the window.

Later on that day, you and Joe were walking down the streets of Brighton, your jacket pulled tightly around you and Joe's hand entwined with yours as you walked the short distance from the hotel to the restaurant where everyone was meeting for Zoe's birthday meal.

"I love this place." You say quietly as you walk down the cobblestone path, looking up at Joe as he looked down at you and smiled. "Look how beautiful everything is." Your words are soft as you look up and around at your surroundings, in awe of everything you were seeing.

"Yeah, me too." He nods, and you smile at him gently, tightening your grip on his hand as you use your other to tuck a piece of hair that was tickling your nose behind your ear.

The meal was wonderful, you finally got to catch up with Poppy and Mark after way too long of not seeing them both, and you managed to sneak your present to Zoe inconspicuously under the table. She'd been confused at first, but when you quietly insisted that she just put it into her bag and open it up later on, she gave up asking.

It wasn't anything bad, but you didn't want it to seem like you'd only got her the gist you did just to make yourself seem better in front of others. Instead, you wanted it to be strictly between you and Zoe.

A real silver charm bracelet with Cartier diamonds sat in the velvet box, with five charms hanging from the chain. One representing Nala, a little pug. One representing YouTube, a camera. Another representing your friendship, that one being a single rose. The last two were just as special, and all in all you were proud of the present you'd spent so much time thinking about over the previous few months.

Joe knew that you'd bought her it, of course, and had reassured you so many times that he knew she'd love it, which had calmed your nerves slightly. But when Zoe stood up to go to the bathroom and returned a few minutes later and sat down next to you with a smile, she waited until nobody was looking before leaning in and giving you a quick hug and whispering in your ear. "Thank you so much, (Y/N). I honestly love it."

You couldn't seem to stop smiling, and neither could she, and when you glanced over at Joe, he simply winked at you as if to say 'I told you so' before going back to eating his food and having a conversation with Alfie.

When the meal was over and done with, you all decided to walk down to the beach; which, seeing as by that point everyone was at least a little tipsy, probably wasn't the best of ideas. But nonetheless, when you arrived and almost immediately tripped face first into the pebbles only to be caught by Joe who couldn't help but laugh at your expense along with the rest of the group, you couldn't help but laugh.

You spent a relatively respectable amount of time on the beach, shoving each other towards the water and popping into what felt like at least twenty different vlogs.

The walk back to the hotel you and Joe spent walking behind the others, or well, Joe did anyways. You'd bribed him into giving you a piggy back, and so now you had your legs wrapped around his waist and your chin resting on his shoulder as you breathed softly against his jaw.

"Hey Joe?" You hum, and he turns his head to look you in the eyes curiously. "I love you."

"I love you too, pretty." He grins, and you lean around to kiss him quickly before squeaking and tightening your grip on him as he sped up to catch up with the others. "Hey guys, wait up! My little legs are carrying another pair of little legs now too!"

[falsealchemist-blog]

Chapter 2.1 - Highway to Hell

Six months after Argent knocks on ash’s door.

“You’re fucking CRAZY,” Ash half screamed, clinging desperately to the safety handle in Argent’s car. In response, Argent started cackling, then stuck his head out of his window. The reason for Ash’s distress was quite apparent- They were currently speeding down a freeway at upwards of 90 miles an hour, with several vehicles in pursuit. oh, and they were going against the flow.

“huh” Argent remarked, half to himself. “Ya know, Usually the Elswain family doesn’t chase alchemists this far away from there territory. I wonder why...” Ash fixed his mentor with a steely glare. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you broke into their estate and stole a fucking briefcase! You said you were going to teach me how to gather pure Vermilion Ore! Not rob a freaking crime syndicate!” He let out a high pitched squeak as Argent cut across three lanes, barely missing an oncoming semi. Argent didn’t break from watching his pursuers. “that’s what I’m doing right now. and don’t call the Elswains a crime syndicate- They get touchy about that.” Ash stared at him incredulously. “Touchy? You STOLE something from them, I don’t think they’ll care whether or not we used the proper terminology when they break our kneecaps.” Argent frowned, thinking, then made an ‘ahh’ sound of realization as he maneuvered through a narrow gap between a minivan and a sports car.. “oops. I forgot to explain. Ash, this IS how to harvest vermilion ore- the only way, in fact.” “Right.” Ash said, fixing argent with the patented ‘you must think i’m stupid’ look of his that he’d spent his entire life practicing. “theft is the ONLY way to get the ore. And I’m Gandhi.” Argent squinted at his mirror, worried. why hadn’t the Elswain broken off pursuit yet? “ha, ha. Jokes aside, yes, theft is the only way to obtain vermilion ore from the source... kinda.” He took a moment, dragging his thoughts in order. “Right, so you asked that one time how alchemists could get away with harvesting specific materials from creatures considered sentient, and that had signed onto the Escalation treaties, yeah?” “yeah, but what does that have to-” Ash cut off with a panicked yelp as argent swerved off to the side to avoid a pack of bikers, kicking up a cloud of dirt from the shoulder of the road. “This. This is the workaround.” He gestured back at the pursuing vehicles. “Alchemists can harvest from any sentient species on the list, provided that they obtain prior permission, follow proper protocol, and if needed, provide reparations, usually healing and regeneration elixirs.”

Seeing Ash’s confusion, he continued. “The Elswain family is the only producer of vermilion ore, and are a distant to relation to dragons. I called ahead to obtain permission- this is proper protocol to obtain it.” “Wait” Ash said, thinking. “They wanted you to steal it?” Argent nodded. “Yes. well, technically, they want us to earn it. Many of the Escalation species, as we call the treaty signers, follow a similar line of thought, and challenge ingredient gatherers to various types of trials. ours was a simpler one- if you can grab it and get away, you can have it.” He looked at his rear-view mirror. “Though, they should have pulled off by now.” He frowned, concerned. “Check the briefcase, would you? make sure It has my name on it. I might’ve grabbed the wrong one.” Ash gave him a startled look, but then shrugged and glanced at the road. seeing that they were finally clear of oncoming traffic, he unclipped his seat belt and clambered into the backseat.

There, he found the source of today's troubles- A gleaming silver briefcase, about the size of a large laptop and only and inch or two thick. seeing nothing marking the front, he flipped it over. “Found it!” he called up. “there’s a small plate of metal, upper right corner, initialed A.C.” “Those are my initials alright. Although, the metal plate is fancier than I’m used too.” He mused out loud. “they usually just slap on a strip of duct tape with my info on it.” “why’s that” asked ash, clambering back into the passenger seat and buckling his seat-belt, case on his lap. “A sign of casual contempt.” remarked argent. He sighed in relief when he saw the pursuing vehicles fade out of sight. Turning, he looked at ash’s shocked face. “what?”

“Casual contempt? And you’re okay with that? You want everyone to like you!” Argent gave him a droll look. “I don’t want EVERYONE to like me, just those that I personally like. And I’m informed that their dislike of me is a thing to be proud of. It means they like me enough to hate me, if that makes sense. which, know that I think about it, kinda does. they usually treat everyone politely, but impersonally.” He nodded to himself, proud. Ash just shook his head. People are weird, he thought to himself. At that moment, the car gave off a small series of clicking noises. Argent chuckled, snapping out of his reviere, and patted the dash board.  “Thirsty? Don’t worry girl, I’ll fill you up when we get back.” Ash shook his head again. And Argent's the weirdest of the lot, he thought to himself. As he drifted off to sleep, a small corner of his mind noted that the seats of the car, which had at first seemed to be uncomfortable pleather, on second glance was actually real leather, soft and supple. before he could ponder that further, however, sleep took him. ******************************************************************************************* A- Well, that was a wild ride. M- Really Asterion? Puns? A- While I didn’t actually mean to make that pun, I will gladly take the credit for it. However, I’ve got to ask- Why the skip? There was a whole six months of of shenanigans that you just... glossed over! M- While a lot of interesting things did happen then, Argent and Ash didn’t really start bonding until around this point. sure, they opened up to each other a bit, but not in any real way. they both are still hiding behind their shells. Also, the whole six months thing is honestly better suited for a series of short stories, not the main novel. and finally, This is where events start to click into place, and where fate begins to reveal his plots. A- Yeah, yeah. You make a lot of points, but I know your true reason- Captialism!!! M- Asterion! *the sound of something being thrown echos* A- Ack! Sorry, I was joking! .... please don’t make me sleep on the couch. M- Your puppy dog eyes don’t work on me, Asterion. And don’t joke about the book. I don’t know why, but it’s gotta be this way, and nitpicking at it is gonna make me feel bad about it. A- ... technically, they’re little bulls eyes. M- *chuckles quietly*

A- Sorry boo. I forgot that this is your first book out in the open, and that i’m kinda forcing you into it. M- Hey, saving another Reality to set events in motion to protect my own is one hell of a way to get over writers block... and I forgive you. A- No couch? M- No couch.