#no joke im almost in disbelief this feels. too good to be true | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nctsworld · 4 years

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two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

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x-woozi · 3 years

Text

An Unwise Interest

Part 10

Previous || M. List || Next

Summary: Of course you love your brother but he can be a bit overly concerned and involved in your personal life. Things only get worse when you find yourself having a little more than “friendly” feelings for one of his best friends.

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long to post life’s been a bit much lately but it’s here now! Ta-da! Love interest revealed, and surprise surprise it’s Jihoon. Im sure you saw it coming but I hope you still enjoy!

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Balloons are great and all but the set up and cleaning up is a pain, especially for what you have planned. Luckily you’ll only have to worry about one of those.

Deciding to not be completely mean you planned to fill the majority of the balloons with the confetti first and only a few with glitter. You set everything out side by side on Seungcheols bedroom floor. “Okay I’ve got the balloons and confetti but where did I put- Ah the glitter!” You said aloud to yourself with an evil-like grin as you imagine the look on your brother's face when he gets home.

Rather than waiting for Jihoon to get back, you started without him knowing he’d be against taking any part in it and would have to do some convincing. You tried your best to funnel the tiny pieces of paper into as many balloons as you could before inflating them.

Once it was time to blow them up you realize where you went wrong. There’s no pump, no helium tank, nothing. You thought to yourself, this is that stupid pre-prank karma isn’t it. All you could do now was pray your lungs make it through.

10 balloons in and there are many regrets going through your mind. Tying the ends is starting to hurt your fingers, bring rubber bands or ribbon next time. Starting to feel a little lightheaded having to blow them up. Gotta remember to get a pump for these things! Some of the confetti keeps slipping out and getting in your mouth. Why does this feel so dan-

There was a loud thud that came from the other room interrupting your thoughts and making you inhale sharply with a balloon still at your lips. Going hand in hand with your last thought the timing was great because now you’re choking and there’s an intruder. Trying your best not to completely panic when you hear footsteps rushing towards you loudly coughing, you look around the room and realize you have nothing to defend yourself with. what a great way to go.

“Are you okay?!?!” Jihoon yelled as he barged into the room, “what happened!”

If you could this is where you would’ve let out a sigh of relief, but no, still choking on paper.

He practically leapt to your side and aggressively patted your back trying to help, which it did a little. When you caught your breath you quickly faced him, “what the hell, who just comes home and immediately starts slamming doors and shit?? I could have died because of you!”

“Are you being serious?” Jihoon stared at you in disbelief, “first off you’re in my home”

“It’s also my brothers.” You stated as a weak argument against him

“Still not yours. And second that wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t doing all of this” he motioned to the mess you’ve made on the floor. “So who’s really at fault here?”

“wow just blame the victim I guess” You folded your arms “I never took you for that type, I’m disappointed Ji”

His jaw dropped, “the v- you?? You're joking right? You’re the victim?” Scoffing at your claim “right and I’m in the nba”

A small laugh fell from your lips before you could catch it, you cleared your throat to hide it “anyways, were you going to help me with this or not?”

“Would I have brought these if I wasn’t?” He held up two plastic balloon pumps “I had a feeling you didn’t have one, and of course. I was right”

You rolled your eyes “yeah alright well let’s get to pumping, I’m tired of almost dying doing it the old fashioned way.”

Sitting on the floor across from you and grabbed a balloon to start with, “no one told you to take it this far, so that's on you” he shrugged

He wasn’t wrong, you were the one that wanted to do all this but it was going to be worth it in the end. At least you hoped it would be. Of course seeing his initial reaction to seeing it all would be fantastic but after that there's no telling what he’ll do.

As you both sat there with balloons starting to pile around you, you started to think about what your real plans for after college were. “Hey Ji, can I ask you a question?”

“Was that not it?” You squint your eyes back at him and he sighed, “go ahead”

“How did you know to decide on being a music major? Like I know you’re really good at all of it but how do you know that’s what you want to do forever?”

He kept his eyes on the balloon in his hand “Because it’s my outlet, my contribution to the world. It doesn’t reach many people as of right now but for those that it does reach it makes them feel something that only music can. Music is like the medicine everyone needs at some point. It makes me feel good to help people in that way and I want to be able to reach and help as many people as possible.” You had watched the way his smile grew as he spoke about his passion but quickly fell as a pink showed over his cheeks when he looked back up to see you watching his expressions.

There was a sudden pop and with that rubber and confetti was everywhere. You jumped slightly at the noise, “oh no!” You giggled “well that’s one less for him to worry about later”

“At least it wasn’t one with glitter in it” he added while dusting the pieces off of his shirt.

“Very true, that stuff never comes off” you agreed “hang on you got some in your hair”

You leaned over to pick off the few pieces that made it up there before realizing he was reaching to get those same pieces. Though instead of the paper it was your hand he grabbed.

(Que the cheesy kdrama music: Duu dudu duu dudu duu)

Your face immediately burned red as you felt a small panic rush over you. “Sorry I just-“ You laughed lightly as you pulled your hand back, “you know what, I could use a snack break” you stood up and raced to the kitchen. Oh god why am I like this? It wasn't even bad! You thought to yourself pretending to look through the cabinets. Did I make it more awkward running in here like that? Shit.

In an attempt to make it better you decided to make both of you a pb&j, but also as a thank you for helping you finish even if there wasn’t much to do. “Grape or strawberry?” You yelled with your head basically still in the fridge. There was no answer “Ji!”

“Strawberry” his response surprised you with him being much closer than you thought. He had joined you in the kitchen and was grabbing the bread from the counter behind you.

“How did you know what I was going to make?” He looked at you with a straight face. You rolled your eyes and took the bread from his hands. “Maybe I was going to use crackers, make mini pb&js.” You finished up and set them on plates at the table across from each other.

He followed behind you, sliding a glass of water to you before taking his seat. It was silent as you both sat there eating before Jihoon spoke up, “so I’m going to guess that you’re still struggling to pick your major.”

“Says who?”

“Not even 10 minutes ago you were asking how I picked mine.” He pointed out as he picked up his sandwich.

“Well what if I just wanted to get to know you better, make small talk you know?” Trying to defend yourself.

“Okay so then what did you decide on?” He questioned.

“I haven’t.” You responded sounding defeated “what if I do pick and then change my mind then I would have wasted so much time and money for nothing”

He rolled his eyes, taking another bite. “Just don’t think of it like that, think of it as broadening your horizons, explore your options. What do you enjoy doing?”

“Being with my friends? I don’t know”

“Fine, what are you good at?” He waited for an answer as you just stared back with a blank face. “Seriously? How about a planner like for parties and stuff?”

“Me? Plan things? I can’t do that” you laughed at the thought of it.

Completely at a loss for words he gets up and motions for you to follow. You do while bringing what’s left of your sandwich. He led you straight back to your brother's doorway and stood with his arms crossed. “Did you not plan this?”

“This is different. It’s a prank, not a party” you tried explaining, “this is something simple. But we should hurry and finish because he should be home soon.”

He rolled his eyes at you trying to change the subject, “yeah alright but at least think about it. It doesn’t hurt to explore all your options.” he sat on the floor and picked up another balloon. “Especially when you have no idea what you’re doing with your life.”

You scoffed and tossed a handful of deflated balloons at him “I’m sorry, is that judgement I hear?” he looked up at you with raised brows. “At least I’m trying to have fun and enjoy my life instead of staying locked away in my room.”

“I do not stay locked in my room.” He tried defending himself

“Oh my bad, locked away in the studio.” you correct yourself.

He then threw some balloons your way, “I go out and do things. I can have fun and enjoy life”

You took that as a challenge and picked up some confetti and held it in your fist, “you sure about that?”

“Y/n, what are you doing?” he put a hand up as a barrier questioning you.

“What? Are you scared?” you pulled your arm back preparing for launch.

“I just can't tell what you're throwing at me.”

“Let's find out then” as soon as you threw the paper he reached for the glitter and was ready to throw some back. “Wait wait!” you tried reaching to stop him but it was too late, it was everywhere. He was bent over with laughter as you sat there covered in glitter glaring at him. You picked up another container and sprinkled it over him, letting it fall everywhere.

His laughing slowed as he froze when he saw sparkles coming from him. He let out a short laugh before quickly grabbing your arm to keep you from dropping anymore on him. “Really?” Your first thought was to grab it with your other hand, but as you did that he caught you with a smirk

You tried pulling away but with his grip it only forced you to scoot closer to him. There was now a warmth growing on your face as you stared back at him trying to think of your next move to get out.

The smirk still on his face “now what? Are you done?”

Something dropped at the doorway forcing you to both turn to see your brother standing with his bags at his feet “what the hell is going on in here!!”

Suddenly your hands we’re free and you rushed to your feet. “Wait cheol-“

“Out of all the people and all the places! You two?! IN MY ROOM?!!!” He started towards Jihoon.

Moving yourself between them “wait wait it’s not what it looks like I swear!!”

Jihoon was up and backing away slowly “you know me.. we friends.. roomies.. just take a breath”

“Y/n go home I’ll talk to you later. You.” He point at Ji “we need to talk now.”

You grabbed your bag and basically ran out the door. it’s fine it’ll be fine I’ll check on them later. After I’m far away and he’s cooled off.

Obviously you felt bad for leaving the situation like that but what else could you do? Seungcheol was a little scary when he’s mad.

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wannabecoyote · 4 years

Text

Sasha woke up, she didn’t remember falling asleep but that’s just every Tuesday for her. Her whole body is sore and lethargic, also a normal Tuesday. What isn’t a normal Tuesday however is WAKING UP IN AN UNFAMILIAR CELL. She very much does not appreciate being imprisoned for god knows whatever reason or at all really. She sat up and tried to practice the breathing exercise she and her friends found.

Breathe in for four seconds. Hold for seven. Breathe out for eight.

Rinse and repeat.

She swallowed once she feels calm enough and looked around the room. She’s very surprised that she isn’t descending into yet another panic attack but she ain’t gonna question her good luck now.

She felt for her phone and breathed out a sigh of relief when she found it is still in her pocket. With trembling hands she typed a message to her friend.

‘dude I could be dying rn. im pretty sure I was kidnapped. no cap. idk where I am. keep my witch stuff.’

She took a picture of the cell and sent it to Dylan.

She pocketed her phone with another inhale to fortify herself. She looked around and found her cell sealed with a laser beam thing. Like a sheet of light keeping her in. Like some real Steven Universe shit.

She walked up to it and tried to touch it. She pulled her hand back with a curse when she was zapped unceremoniously by the rude laser. She started flicking her hand trying and failing to shake the pain off.

She put her singed finger in her mouth and looked around for something that could help her. To the opposite of the laser gate was her cot, a raised platform that comes up to her thighs and padded with cushion. To the right hand side was a sink with running water and a glass near it. She assumed that was for her to drink. All she found that are detachable from their posts are pillows, the glass, and blankets. She walked over and snatched the pillow from the cot to test it against the laser.

She held the pillow forward and slowly touched the other side to the laser. She was startled from this when a something moved in the hallway. She threw the pillow away and focused on the figure that slithering closer to her cell by the minute.

She pulled a face of disgust when a weird hybrid of gorgons, aliens from the movie Aliens, and freaking predators came in front of her. It was very disconcerting.

“Human, you are before your queen, bow.” The talking monstrosity said.

The audacity!

“I’m sorry but you ain’t my queen. My queen is Sappho and you don’t look anything like her,” she said and the guards beside the queen gasped.

The queen’s face distorted in anger. Sasha’s face showed her disgust at how uglier the queen became.

“Eugh, dude seriously ngl you look like someone punched your mother’s stomach when she was carrying you and then when she gave birth to you she somehow dropped you multiple times because she always gets surprised by how ugly you are,” she said with a shrug. If she was gonna die, she’s gonna make the most of what she has right now.

The guy on the left let out a noise that sounded a lot like a laugh. Sasha smiled proudly and gave the alien a wink. It feels good to know someone appreciates your humor. They stepped back a bit, spooked. The queen’s face becomes more distorted but this time she was looking at the alien that laughed.

“You find this amusing? You are nothing but dust in the cosmos. You are nothing. Remember your place [species slur]!” she shouted at them. The poor guy bowed their head and uttered a silent acquiescence.

“HEY DON’T YOU FUCKING SAY THAT TO THEM YOU NIGHTMARE IN ELMS STREET LOOKING ASS!” Sasha shouted. NOBODY, FUCKING NOBODY FUCKS WITH THE ALIEN GUY. HE IS B A B Y.

Both aliens looked at her, one with a look of horrified admiration, and the other with pure contempt in her eyes. Nine of them. Creepy. Why’s it gotta be a fucking odd? Why fucking nine? It’s fucking gross. Eugh.

She was startled out of her disgust for the nine eyes by the sound of someone pressing in the code for her cell…presumably. The laser wall disappeared and the queen loomed ominously over her. She bolted as soon as she can. Narrowly dodging the disgusting snake alien thing that tried to strike her. She took the alien’s appendage and ran. Dragging them along with her to wherever the fuck.

“Why are you doing this human? I am not an ideal hostage, no one cares about me,” the alien said. Sasha’s heart broke with the way that they said it. As if it was something factual. No one should be made to feel like that. If she was gonna escape she’s gonna take this bean with her.

“You are not a hostage,” she said. Behind them the queen is screaming profanities at everyone and the soldiers are gaining on them. “You’re a friend, I can see that you hate it here. You’re as much of a prisoner as I am. We’re gonna get out of here, yeah?” she looked back and her alien friend nodded with a look of disbelief on their face.

“Why?”

“Because they don’t treat you right.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with you, besides, I will slow you down.”

“Of course it does! I made you laugh, you’re my friend now.”

“What exactly is a friend? You’ve mentioned it twice now.”

“You don’t know what friends are?!”

“I do not. I am sorry,”

“No! Don’t be! I wasn’t mad at you or anything.” She sighed, this is difficult. “A friend is someone that you like, someone you spend your time with. Someone that you can rely on. Someone who can rely on you.”

“…and I am your friend? How?”

“Like I said, you laughed at my joke.”

“That sounds superficial, especially compared to what you mentioned friendship entailed.”

“It doesn’t have to be really deep, does it? I like you because I do. Do you not want to be my friend?”

“It is not that I do not, it is that I do not understand why you would want to be mine.”

“I just do okay? You’re a great dude.”

She looked at the soldiers chasing after them.

“How many?” she asked the confused alien. “Few. There aren’t much.” She nodded and asked where they are as they ran for their lives. They yelled out directions and she followed as best as she could.

She ran faster than she ever has in her life. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her alien friend tried but they couldn’t keep up with her. They lagged behind but she wouldn’t leave them. She couldn’t.

They reminded her too much of herself.

So she stood. In front of him. Shielding him from the soldiers that had caught up with them. Her friend told her to run. To leave them. To save herself. She didn’t.

The first soldier engaged her and she punched him. Remembering all those self-defense lessons from tiktok. They were bipedal and has almost the same structure as humans so she assumed they have similar anatomy. Her assumption proved true when the alien she punched in the throat gasped and flailed for air. Her confidence renewed she jumped to the next alien. She tore through them, using everything she has on her arsenal. Her hands, fingers, nails, feet, her teeth, and everything else that she has.

They were fragile. They were easy to destroy. She has cuts all over her body but she cannot feel pain right now. Her friend is looking around at the carnage she has brought with fear in their eyes. All the fight left her body when they looked at her with fear. She moved forward to reassure them that everything was going to be okay but the queen arrived.

She was holding a gun of a sort and she was pointing it at Sasha. She ran straight for the queen, her teeth barred, screaming at the top of her lungs.

The queen expecting her to run was thrown off guard when she slammed against her. Sasha rained punches on her captor. Blindly smashing and hitting. The sound of pounding of flesh and bones crunching filled the air. She did not stop until two arms wrapped around her and restrained her.

“…okay, it’s gonna be okay. It’s alright, you’re alright. You’re safe.” It was a familiar voice. She didn’t know whose voice. She can feel the strength leaving her body. She hasn’t slept in two days.

“Alien… friend… safe..?” she asked, slowly losing her consciousness.

“Yes, your alien fiend is safe.” He sounds like he’s smiling.

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space australians #humans are insane #humans are deathworlders #humans are adorable #earth is a deathworld #earth is space australia #aliens #alien #alien friend #friendship #violence kinda #gen Z #i dont fucking know aymore

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kimnjss · 4 years

Text

dating rich | ksj

⤑ series: sugar free

⤑ genre: fluff, rich!jin x artist!reader, college au.

⤑ rating: PG13

⤑ word count: 3.4K

⤑ warnings: there aren’t any, lmao.

⤑ A/N: today was a bit of a busy day so this is later than i wanted it to be! (im in the process of moving) buuut, it’s here and i really like it :( they’re kinda cute ngl . let me know what you think ! x

You hadn't been expecting the knock at your front door, was weary on your way down the steps to see who was standing on the other side. A large man, black hat pulled low on his head shuffled on his feet from behind the peephole. A box tucked underneath his armpit.

Watching him, you waited until he did the normal delivery man thing – dropping the box outside of the door and ditching second after knocking; not even giving you a chance to reach for the doorknob. He didn't, though. Seconds passed and the man just stood there, waiting for you to open up.

“Package for Miss Yn,” His deep voice had your body jumping as if he had sensed your presence on the other side of the door. With a quiet breath, you were reaching for to pull the door open, caught off guard by the dazzling smile of the tall man. “Are you Miss Yn?” He asked, that grin not wavering for a moment.

“Yeah, that's me. I didn't order anything, though.” You kept good track of your orders, knew when you would be expecting a visitor. Never could be too careful as a young girl living on her own.

“It's from Master Seokjin, a dress for tonight.” The man was holding the box out to you and you couldn't hold back the urge to roll your eyes. Did this guy really have his own delivery service where the workers referred to him as 'Master'? How ridiculous. “Great, thank you.” You forced the smile, watching as the man nodded before taking a few backward steps down the stairs.

Pushing the door closed, your attention was dropping to the box in your hands. It was neatly wrapped, probably done professionally with the way this man loved to throw his cash to the wind. A pretty gold bow holding the thing together and you weren't gentle with the way you tugged at it, watching as the careful ribboning came undone.

With the lid now off, you were faced with the expertly folded laid inside. A creamy white color, silky to the touch. Noting how short it was when you finally talked yourself into pulling it from the box. Singed at the waist with a matching belt tie, the dress was beautiful. And you didn't have to peak at the price tag (that he didn't bother to detach) to know that it was expensive.

You had been so enthralled with the fabric, you almost missed the items that laid at the bottom of the box. A pair of long dangled silver earrings beside a pair of matching silver stilettos. This man sure paid a great deal of attention to detail. There was a note placed just below the sole of the shoe.

Lifting it, your eyes scanned over the words written, not being able to fight the smile breaking onto your lips.

'don't you think this is much prettier than some tired cocktail dress? (no idea what you have in your closet) – nd no offense either. like i said, im sure you look great in everything. though, i heard chiffon does wonders for a pretty woman; wanted to test that theory.'

A compliment hidden somewhere within his obvious need to flaunt his wealth. It was kinda sweet and he wasn't wrong, this dress was much nicer than any old thing you would've thrown on at the last minute.

If you were going to be dating rich... might as well look the part, right?

Another knock sounded at your door exactly five hours later. 18:27. Three whole minutes before Jin had told you he'd be picking you up. Was he extremely punctual or just excited to see you? Not allowing yourself a moment extra to mull over the question, you were pulling the door open, new dress hugging your body, heels adding to your height, and earrings fastened in your ear.

Jin took his time taking in your appearance, a not so subtle jaw dropped expression as his eyes scanned over the way the fabric hugged your body. “You look amazing,” His words were riddled with disbelief, hushed as if he was speaking to himself.

Either way, that smile was pushing its way onto your lips. Not able to place just why you were so fond of receiving compliments from him. Maybe it was the fact it seemed as if he actually cared how you looked... you the fact that $3,421.78 made you feel desirable. No need to mull over that either.

“Thank you,”

He nodded, acknowledging your gratitude before offering up his arm for you to hold. “Minho is keeping the car warm for us, come on.” Only then were you noticing the shiny SUV parked directly in front of your house? The same man from earlier standing outside of it, ready to pull the door open when needed.

Your hand fit nicely against his bicep, heels clicked as you stepped forward pulling your front door closed behind you. Jin led you down the steps, advising you to watch your step as he brought you to the car.

Minho greeted you both with a soft smile, the back door of the car being pulled open and Jin was ushering you in like a true gentleman. The door was closing behind you and moments later, Minho was climbing into the front seat and shoving the car into gear.

The car ride to the restaurant was uncomfortably silent. You couldn't come up with something interesting to say and couldn't stop scolding yourself for actually wanting to say something to pique his interest. Jin was quiet, uncharacteristically so. Eyes staring out the slightly tinted window as his leg bounced quickly next to you.

Was he nervous? Doubtful.

You took to fumbling with the hem of your dress, counting down the moments until the car was stopping and you'd be inside of the restaurant. Actually hungry and excited to try the food there. $50 a plate (you had surfed the website for their cheapest dish, that was it), their food had to be good, right?

Relief is instantly washing over you as Minho is sliding the car to a stop, stepping out without a word to open the door for both you and Seokjin. An innocent hand lands on the small of your back as the two of you make your way toward the entrance and, surprisingly, you lack the urge to bat it away.

“Hey, Dae-Ho!” His bright personality is back, complete with his matching smile as the two of you approach the man standing at the door. Dae-Ho? Is turning, a grin spreading on his lips as he spots the two of you. Of course, they knew each other.

Jin is clapping hands with Dae-Ho, engaging in that generic guy handshake where they pat each other on the back while holding hands but not getting too close. “It's been forever, dude. You don't shadow your old man any more?” Dae-Ho is wondering and Jin is quick to shake his head.

“Not as much... think he was afraid if I learned too much I'd surpass him too fast,” Jin is joking and his friend is letting out a heartfelt laugh, eyes squinting as he shows off his perfectly white teeth. When the laughter dies down, the guy's attention is zeroing on you. He stares for a moment, brow arched as he watched you, waiting... for what?

If Jin notices the weird moment, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't even bother to drop his hand from your waist, just continues on smiling at his friend and speaking up without missing a beat. “Is Moonie around?”

Moonie? How many people did this guy know behind these thick glass doors? Dae-Ho is nodding his head, reaching for the walk-y that was clipped to his waist. He speaks into the receiver, voice much deeper and direct now. “Moon, there's someone here to see you.”

'Moon' is coming out just minutes later. A short silver-haired girl with small features and a pointed nose. Her smile is large when she spots Jin, not hesitating to pull him in for a tight hug when she's able to reach. “Wow, where have you been Jinnie?”

“You know around,” Jin shrugs. “Heard you bought your father out, took his name off all the papers of this place...” The girl is nodding excitedly at Jin's words, leading the two of you past the front doors as they continue to catch up.

So he was close to the owner? Seemed like old friends from the way they addressed each other and smiled so fondly. With a snorted laugh, she was sitting the two of you down in a quiet corner of the place. “I haven't seen you in so long, man. This one's on the house, whatever you want.” She's handing a menu over to you, that pretty smile taking over her features again.

“Wow, I'm so rude. Is this your girlfriend? What's your name?” You tried not to flinch at the label, pushing a polite smile onto your lips as you got ready to answer. “I'm not-” You start, quickly being interrupted by Jin.

“This is Yn. We go to school together,” Moon takes a moment to look between the two of you, obviously picking up on the tension but not saying much about it. “That's cool, then. Let me go grab a server for you two,” She's turning to leave before either of you could weigh in.

“Why didn't you let me correct her?” Jin is looking at you with a furrowed brow, shoulders shrugging before he's reaching for the glass of water placed on the table and taking a long sip. “Did it really matter?” Did it? Maybe it didn't... it wasn't like you were ever going to see that girl again. And the two of you weren't exactly friends.

What was he supposed to introduce you as? The girl that he was kinda interested in, but not really because he was probably this way with any girl he found remotely attractive. Yeah, that was definitely a mouthful.

No, wait. It did. Girlfriend was a big deal. And you had just barely agreed to go on this date with him. Two people can go on a date without being accused of actually dating. That's not weird to say. He was courting you and that was the bottom line, nothing had been promised.

Through your mess of thoughts, a small fact was hitting you. He knew the owner of this place and acted as if the two of you would have trouble getting in based on what you wore. So why had he insisted on buying you a new dress if he knew that wouldn't be a factor?

Sat across from you in a nice but regular button shirt tucked into a pair of simple black jeans. Everyone else around you two was dolled up, so there most definitely was a dress code, yet he didn't have to follow it because his friend was the owner. So why a new (expensive) dress for you?

Something wasn't adding up.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, having dinner with Jin wasn't as bad as you had assumed it would be. He was kind, funny, and all-around an entertaining person to be around. It was as if he genuinely enjoyed seeing you laugh, hearing the sound of it, and was ready to spew out joke after joke just to hear the sound.

He had ordered for the both of you, warning you quietly that not many things on the menu were all that appetizing. Well, he thought he was being quiet, he did however earn an eye roll from his friend Moon who hadn't been too far from the table.

The awkward laugh that left his lips, oddly, warmed your heart pushing a smile onto your face and breaking the layer of ice you had been keen on keeping intact. Jin listened intently to the answer to each question that he asked, seeming honestly interested in what you had to tell him. Wanting to actually know more about you and your personality rather than just asking the questions to fill the silence.

You told him whatever came to mind, not being able to hold back after realizing that he was interested in what you had to say. Told him about your dreams as an artist, your love for literature, and film work. Even told him the embarrassing story of the time you thought you could be a poet and actually entered a poetry slam.

He had a good laugh hearing your story end in stumbling off stage in fear, tripping over the microphone on the way, and busting your ass in front of the entire audience. You couldn't silence his laughter after that and quickly, you were urging him to make up for it with an embarrassing story of his own.

Which he shared without a second thought, animatedly telling you about his friends and the times they got themselves into a mess, the sound of his laughter interrupting his words more often than not. As the seconds of the night ticked by, you found yourself feeling more and more comfortable around this man.

Almost had you second-guessing the snap judgment you had made prior to this. How quickly you decided that you weren't interested in getting to know him when he was kind of great when it came down to it.

A gracious tip was left on the table, despite the meal not needing to be paid for. With a soft smile, Jin's reaching to set his hand on the small of your back once more; leading you out of the restaurant with the gentlest guidance.

Moon is stood at the front door, flicking through the menu as the two of you pass her. She looks up immediately, waving with that brightest of smiles. “Come back soon! You need to treat your pretty girlfriend as often as possible,” She's calling out. It's not even hard for you to push down the urge to correct her, only pushing a smile onto your face and waving back.

Jin nods grins at his friends before the two of you are exiting the building. Minho is pulling up just as the two of you are stepping out. Dae-Ho nowhere insight when you look for him, but you're not given the chance to wander with the way Jin's ushering you into the backseat of the car.

“So,” He's prompting after a few moments driving in silence had passed. Your attention had been out the window, watching the trees as they whipped by and trying to wrap your mind around how pleasant this evening had been. Wondering just how your guard had managed to slip, Jin letting himself in without a second thought.

You turn to face him, a smile instantly lifting the corners of your mouth at the sight of him. Had he always been this unbelievably handsome? “You had a good time tonight, huh?” He's asking with that cocky smile of his and out of habit, you're rolling your eyes.

“It's alright,” You shrug, turning your attention from him to hide the coloring in your cheeks. If you hadn't looked away, you would've seen the cute way Jin rolled his eyes at you, his body sinking into the comfort of the leather seats as his head turned to get a better look at your profile. “Just alright? That grin hasn't left your face since we sat down. Not that I'm complaining,”

You're quiet, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right. Not like he even needed it, the evidence was right in front of his face. He doesn't push it, his attention going to the window at his side of the car.

“I had a really good time tonight,” It sounds more like a silent confession than a declaration meant for you. As if he couldn't believe it himself. You couldn't either, but you don't say anything. So positive that this was just tonight. No matter how much fun he was, how nice, how attractive... he was still the same Kim Seokjin. Still, the same womanizer name riddled with rumors.

Who knows if this wasn't just a calculated plan he used each time he took some girl on a date? Yeah, you weren't falling for it. Couldn't believe you almost let yourself believe it was any different.

You're quiet the rest of the ride, mind reeling. So badly, you wanted this night to be more than just... some night to him. It had been a good time and it kinda sucked that you knew this would be it.

Minho is pulling up in front of your house and before he can move, Jin is opening up the back door. He turns to offer a hand to you, much like a true gentleman would. You're accepting it, allowing him to pull you out of the vehicle.

“Have a good night, Minho!” You're calling over the shoulder, the man in the driver's seat jumping slightly at the mention of his name but quickly replying with a quick goodbye and a large smile.

His hands slip into the front pockets of his jeans as he leads you up the walkway to your front door. An awkward silence fell over the two of you and you had no idea what you were supposed to say in a moment like this. Thank you? See you around? The date was great, too bad we can't do it again? All horrible conversation starters that you had no idea how to steer.

Silence was the best option.

Jin stops once you're at your front door, hands shoved in his pockets while he toes with a loose pebble. Head ducked as if the stone of your porch is the most fascinating thing, but you can still see the tint in his cheeks. He was blushing? But why?

Was he fixing to ask if he could come up? Complete the night like you were sure he and his friends prided with. Minho still hasn't moved from his spot, does that mean he was planning to just come up for a quicky and meet Minho back downstairs?

He's lifting his head and you prepare yourself for the question, ready to reject the idea of a quick fuck that most likely followed his dates. Did he think just because you had a good time you'd be willing to give yourself up to him? Not happening.

“Did I manage to change your opinion on me?” His voice is hushed, almost as if he's afraid of the answer. Did he really care that much what you thought of him? Why you? Why did your opinion matter so much to him?

Slowly, the pieces were starting to fall into place. The expensive dress, the way he flaunted his connections within in the restaurant you picked, how interested in you he seemed to be throughout the whole night... not to mention the shy way his fingers would brush yours as if he wanted to hold your hand the whole car ride home.

Was he actually interested in you? The thought had a smile pushing on your lips and you hated the easy effect the idea of Jin having a crush on you gave away. Before you can talk yourself out of it, think it all the way through – you're stepping forward, hands braced on his biceps as you lean on your toes.

His lips are warm against yours, very soft. It takes Jin a moment to realize what's happening, that your lips are pressed firmly against his but once his mind is settling, he's slipping into it. An arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close while he slowly moves his mouth over yours.

You don't let the kiss become too deep, your head already spinning. You pull away just as he steps forward, looking up just in time to see the dopey smile on his face. You can still taste his lips on yours and figured that will be enough to hold you over for the night.

“I wouldn’t mind doing this again,” You watch the way his eyes light up at your confession, his cheeks tinting pink. “That's good, then!” He's taking backward steps off your porch, eyes never leaving you.

“I should call you then?” He wonders and you nod, turning to unlock your front door. “Yeah, call me.” He offers a quick wave before he's turning and you watch him walk all the way to the car, slipping into the front seat next to Minho.

Faintly, you can feel the pressure of his lips. His strong arm wrapped around your waist. How nervous he looked before asking if you had thought differently of him. Had you? You couldn't know for sure. But maybe you were wrong about him.

– rich, spoiled and a bit of a womanizer. but underneath all of that, there’s a heart of gold. and no matter how determined she is to reject him, he won’t stop trying until she sees he’s kinda sweet.

↲ masterlist ↳

taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @dee-ehn @jaiuneamesolitaiire @lilacdreams-00 @sw33tnight @bangtansonyeondayyyum @okblve @jinhitwhore @tae165 @hellotherehoneybee @bangtansbun @betysotelo18 @cherriigguk @koostime @kooinluv @butterflylion @kookiesjoonies @uxwi @honeyoongles @imajiningseokjin @amoreguk @beeeb05 @tommasauras @bluefaeriefury @butterflylion @withlovestudyblr @samros95 @korkanswers @houseofarmanto @soulstaes @thesunisup-theskyisblue @jinsearth @aizuwusho @moonb0yy @tan-dulset @8sjaf @mini-coop25 @marifujioka @sunskook @elliemeetsevil @ratking101 @leovaldezisfire

A/N: timestamps are important throughout the fic!! if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask! also if you asked to be on the taglist and aren’t on there, it’s because tumblr sometimes doesn’t let me tag ppl for some reason.

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queenofwerewolves · 3 years

Text

Future Hope

chapter one - Where it all began.

We all thought the new decade would be a new fresh start, a new beginning for humanity, we were all so excited for the the arrival of 2020... and it's unknown horrors that we awaited along with it.

it started with just jokes and memes, the virus wasnt affecting us, it didnt seem like a big deal. Then it reached Italy, then the United States. In a span of three months, the entire world changed and was affected by COVID-19. Then it happened.. the attack and sudden uprising of those who had privilege, but didnt know of it's power..

it started with the Black Lives Matter Protests, but it got worst, so unhumaningly worse. People around the country and the world tried to help and stop this evil, but it wasnt enough to stop them. The White Suprimacy.

Death, despair, anguish, loss for hope... What has the world come to?

Even after two years of the incident, in the year of 2022, the same horrors from before was still going on. No one could stop them, those who tried were imprisioned or now buried six feet under, people gave up, they lost hope... Until a new reason for that hope arrived.

It started as a friendship group. Eight people of different kinds, intetrests and hobbies brought together by a common interest, which soon grew into an unbreakable bond, sharing pictures or tagging one another with a funny meme attached to it, simple acts but filled with love.. Until this group almost lost a member.

A fight was happening while she was visiting a store, it was between a simple teen wearing a pride shirt and a middle aged man, bickering and arguing issued, but no one expected the man to pull out a gun and attempt to shoot the kid... Only to miss, and shoot the beloved group friend...

She was texting her friends while it happened, only for them to not hear anything for weeks... But she finally replied, after weeks in the hospital, recovering from the shot. One of the members couldnt have it anymore, and kindly asked for everyone to create a Discord account so they could all see how their wounded friend was doing. Everyone agreed, and surprised her with a call.

Maria was her name, and she couldnt be more delighted about the surprise..

"Yo! Yooo Bitch can you see us?!" Shouted one friend from their call

"For fuck's sake Spike the woman was shot and you have to call her a bitch?!" Rudely replied another friend, who's background was dark and gloomy and had far too many halloween decorations.

Maria laughed softly. "It's OK Spooks.. Wow.. I cant believe Im seeing you all.. Just wished it wasnt at the hospital through a videochat..." She said with a soft smile.

"It is truly a concerning situation we've been dragged into.. but it brings me joy to see you alive and well Maria" Said another friend, looking a little too-well dressed in the call

"Im guessing Griff begged you all to make a Discord huh..?" Maria said, looking at the video box of young man with a concerned yet and embarrassed look.

"Queen... We were so worried..." He answered, slightly choked up. "We thought you were a goner.. When you finally texted back I..I just had to see you..!"

Queen. A nickname she never thought someone would ever call her, hell it was a title that she didnt even deserve. Until she met Griff, which started to call her that, and her other friends jumped along, she always loved that nickname.. Made her feel special...

"Seeing you all together... All for me... It makes me want to cry.. But we dont have time for me getting emocional" Maria answered, suddenly stern

"Why is that Queen? Something going on?" Answered another friend, who was sucking on a lollipop during the call, such the sweet tooth she is.

Maria smiled. "No Muffin.. I simply have a proposal for you all.. And I hope you all are in with me...Because Im getting pretty sick of the way things are in this shit world.."

And so was born a new hope, a group of fighters that are indignified about the way things are, and how they almost took their friend away.

After healing completly at the hospital, they all met in person for the first time. Maria told them that they way they are now wont be enough to make a change to the world, but she knew how to fix that. After a small walk through the woods in the park, they came through a gated area, which Maria crawled under a broken spot of the gate and the others followed, doing the same.

"Long ago" Maria started speaking. "After I moved here, I decided to explore around this park for fun. That's when I found this abandoned gate and went through the same broken piece of wall of the gate we all came through, I believe that's here can help us become better then we already are."

Spike, chewing a piece of gum sneered at her comment. "Oh sure, what is it? A wishing well?"

"Well..." She answered as they came to a stop.

In front of them was a perfectly clean, almost sparkling fountain with clean crystal water still working and flowing out of an angel's vase. The fountain was too bright and shiny, it sure as hell didnt match the rest of the area's gloomy and dark visuals..

"It's a wishing fountain!" Maria spouted out, smiling wide. But the rest werent as.. cheery as she was.

"A fucking... wishing fountain?" Spike answered. "You expect me to believe that's a real wishing fountain? If that's true then why dont you wish for this shit world to become better?"

"I tried!" Maria answered "Apperently it doesnt make big wishes like that, it only makes wishes about yourself or something very small. Like wishing your room to be clean kind of small"

"I mean.. It kinda has that magic aesthetic, I mean, that thing is impeccably clean while the rest is covered in dirt?" Kip answered, glancing at the fountain.

"I know it sounds silly but it really works, I actually did my wish already!" Maria said smiling wide

"Bullshit" Spike answered "You aint a fucking Werewolf, what makes you think we believe you actually wished to be one?"

".. Cause I didnt wished to be a Werewolf..?" Maria answered, dumbfounded. "I always said that I LIKE Werewolves, but I never wanted to be one. I wished to be good at using a scythe and knife throwing, like exceptionally good ya know?" She said excitedly. "And before you answer, YES I do have a scythe, I bought one. Dont ask where."

"So... who goes first?" The smollest of the group, Rook, asked.

"I'll go" Said Griff, pulling out a coin before Maria stopped in this tracks. "This.. Doesnt accept coins" Maria said, seeming a bit worried.

"Then what?" Griff answered back, only to shocked when Maria answered "Blood".

Before Spike could throw a fit, Maria cut him. "Just a drop! Literally! I got a needle here with me, all you gotta do is prick your hand and let the drip fall after you make a wish."

"Let's just get on with it before Spike goes crazy again" Said Blink, the tallest of the group and the one to deal with Spike's bullcrap

Griff took Maria's needle and stood in front of the fountain...And said outloud his wish..

At first he whispered his wish, as if he didnt want anyone to hear it.

"Uh.. It has to be out loud or it wont work Griff." Maria said.

"I-I said.. I wish to be a strong, masculine and really beefy Wererabbit that's really manly and buffed up!!" he shouted with a tone of embarrassment in his voice.

"A Werebunny.. Griffy?" Said Maria in disbelief. "What?! It's co- ow!!" Without looking, he pricked his hand with the needle, and let the drop of blood fall into the fountain's water, mixing along with it. The fountain suddenly shined so brightly that everyone had to cover their eyes for a brief moment before it died out.

Then.. Silence.

"... So.. Now wh-AHCK!!!" Shouted Griff, hit with a sudden shot of pain throughout his body, which made him fall on his knees as everyone backed away from him. They watched in horror as not only he grew almost three times his size, but he got much fuzzier, his ears stretched into rabbit ears, his muscles swelled and bubbled as they grew bigger, his body shifted painfully into a hybrid between man and rabbit. When he finally finished, he just collapsed on the floor, panting exaustedly.

His friends were inicially shocked, until Maria snapped out of it and rushed to his side, placing a hand on his head. "Griffy? You OK..?"

He answered, in a much gruffer, deeper voice.. "Yeah.. Yeah Im good.."

"Jesus.. It worked.. Can you stand?" She asked. Griff nodded as he slowly got up and almost knocked his head on a tree branch from how tall he was now. Everyone was looking up at him, jaws dropped in shock and awe, until..

"HOLY SHIT YOU'RE NAKED!!!" Rook shouted as she covered her eyes, running in place "MY EYES!! THEY BURN!!!"

"We.. better finish these wishes quick and get you some pants." Maria added, Griff simply nodded as he covered himself embarrassed.

One by one they did their wishes. Becoming who they wanted to be to fufill their purpose with Maria.

Spike wished for strong arm strenght, fast stamina and an aluminum bat that never breaks, and can destroy almost anything. Blink asked for a sword, the ability to parkour and jump from building to building like some kind of vigilante. Kip asked to be part cat for the heck of it and that whatever she draws will become a reality. Muffin asked to be a fairy, to bring joy because she isnt a fighter. Togekiss asked for high I.Q, the ability to see simulations of possibilities in the future and telekenisis and teleportation. Spooks asked to be like an Underworld Goddess, with the power to summon shadows and have the darkness on her command, and finally, Rook asked to be part bird and a wizard with elemental nature, and musical spells,to honour her beloved Lammy, she also wished to have a split personality to be like her favorite character, ENA.

And so the team was ready, and soon they would make a change to the world, the revolution has begun, it was time to shine..

For a Future Hope.

#Queen's Story #IT'S HERE #FINALLYYYYY #I HOPE YA'LL LIKE IT

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eury--dice · 4 years

Text

history, huh?

chapter 3: propius

(check the rb for chapters 1 + 2 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Adam was woken at 5 o’clock on the dot with a series of sharp knocks on his door. “Up and Adam,” Gansey’s voice called, making the one stupid dad joke that always set Adam’s blood to a boil. He was too tired to react, however.

“Kindly leave until a later time,” he called, his voice heavy with sleep. “I don’t have class for another three hours.”

Gansey opened the door anyway, striding in with more pep than anyone should have in the morning.

“You’ve made the tabloids, my friend. Your weekend with Ronan finally hit.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Nope,” Gansey said cheerfully. “‘From America, With Love: Ronan and Adam flaunt friendship.’” He turned on his heel once he’d crossed the length of the room, which Adam could never forget was formerly Malia Obama’s, and seated himself in Adam’s desk chair.

Adam had never been closer to considering strangulation. He elected to shove his hearing ear into his pillow instead.

Unfortunately, the muffled sounds of Gansey speaking still made their way in. “‘Photos: Adam’s Weekend in England,’ oh, that’s boring…ah-hah: ‘New Bromance Alert? Pics of FSOTUS and Prince Ronan.’”

Adam resigned himself to his fate and mentally promised himself a giant cup of coffee. “As long as I’m getting fewer death threats on Twitter, I’m happy,” he mumbled into his blankets.

Gansey ignored him. “Why are you so tired? It’s the hour of kings, time to be awake and alive.”

“I’d settle for dead if it meant I could sleep at this point, to be frank.”

“Please don’t be frank. Be Adam.”

Adam sat up, eyeing Gansey in his wire-framed glasses with disdain. “Any more puns and I suffocate myself with this pillow.”

“Please don’t,” Gansey said, but his eyes had already returned to his screen. While he read through the articles, he continued his line of questioning. “Working on the campaign late last night?”

“Not really,” Adam admitted. “I had a Press and the Presidency paper to write.”

“Just write ‘I’m Adam Parrish’ on a piece of loose-leaf paper to turn it in and you’ll probably get an A. You live it every day, for Christ’s sake.”

“And yet I still need to cite sources in Chicago Advanced.”

“You’d think nepotism would work out more in your favor.” He flicked to a fresh article, a gesture Adam only recognized from all the other times Gansey had done it. “Luckily, I think the press is eating this one up.”

Adam grimaced. “Fantastic.”

“Not-campaign-ruining, you mean.”

“That too, I suppose.” He wanted nothing more than to flop back against his pillows and get the sleep his body so desperately craved after being jet lagged for a week, but he fought the urge.

“That _ People _exclusive takes the cake, I think. I didn’t realize how much you cherished your relationship with Ronan.”

“Fuck off, please. Or end my misery.”

“No to both. Why are you even taking that press course?”

Adam slid out from under his blankets, rolling his shoulders to try and wake up more. “Curiosity, I guess. It never hurts to learn more of what not to do.”

Gansey looked up from his phone to level a glance at Adam. “And what have you learned so far?”

“…Don’t have a sex scandal?”

“You _ would _need someone to tell you that.”

_ “Hey,” _Adam said, affecting outrage.

Gansey lifted his thumb to run over his lower lip, tilting his head consideringly. “One of us three will probably have a scandal before your mother’s second term is up.”

“If there is a second.”

“Chin up, young padawan. With you working on it we’re guaranteed.”

“I don’t know, Gansey,” Adam replied. “I don’t think I’m the good luck charm you believe in.”

“Of course you are,” Gansey said. “We won the first time, no?”

Adam glanced exaggeratedly around the room and to the phone in Gansey’s hand. “I’d say so. That or we’re about to get questioned very thoroughly about the the events of last three years.”

“Don’t make me cut you off on the true-crime videos.”

His eyes narrowed, focusing on Gansey. “Don’t you dare.”

“Blue agrees, anyway,” Gansey said, successfully deflecting topics. “Said there’s a ninety-four percent chance you’ll get into a sex scandal before the general.”

“Both of you date more than I do, why am I the one who’s supposedly having a sex scandal?” Once his initial outrage passed, disbelief crept in at the time of day. “Did you just text Blue at five AM and get a response? How the hell did you manage that?”

“She’s been up,” Gansey dismissed. Adam stared at him for a moment, and then Gansey seemed to feel the weight of his stare. His eyes widened almost comically. “Oh, Christ, no, not that. Nate Silver asked for another set of eyes on the Superbowl predictions, and she’s trying to get a shoo-in with them before the primaries begin. I just brought her some coffee.”

“And you didn’t bring me any?”

“You’re the only one of us who hasn’t been up all night. You need coffee the least of all of us.”

“Don’t blame me for your bad decisions.” Adam squinted at Gansey. “Were you working on an article all night or something?”

He snorted. “Hardly. They’ve been blocking all of my pieces. Too far from my mother’s politics, too far from your mother’s, too controversial, too critical, all in that order.”

“Thought you were liking the _ Post _gig?”

“On paper,” Gansey dismissed. “I’ve defaulted to writing about Welsh history.”

“Sounds like it’s right up your alley, then.”

“Once again, on paper.”

“How do you even connect the Welsh to the hellscape of American politics?”

Gansey waved a hand. “‘Eternal spirit,’ ‘fighting for honor,’ ‘remembering Glendower and others who set a pristine model,’ et cetera, et cetera.”

“People read that? That just sounds like you in high school spouting off again.”

“Yes, Adam. People read it.” Gansey squinted at his phone again. “Twitter _ really _likes you and Ronan together.”

“We’re exciting,” Adam said dryly, reaching for his laptop. He scanned over his most recent paper while Gansey dramatically narrated replies to the gif of them on _ This Morning. _

“‘Either of them could stab me and give me one of those smiles and I’d thank them,’ Jesus Christ,” Gansey read, “They really love your fake smiles… ‘name a more iconic duo, I’ll wait,’ hm, maybe any other duo? ‘Oh my God, just _ kiss already.’” _

Adam choked out a laugh as Gansey punctuated the last one with a dramatic and uncharacteristic hand wave. “At least it’s working,” he allowed, shutting his laptop once he felt secure about his essay. “Now get out. _ Some _of us have places to be.”

Adam’s phone buzzed on his way out of his cursed Presidency and the Press course.

Somehow, the interest of those around him seemed to pique even higher when he looked at his phone instead of in front of him. It wasn’t a new sensation by any means; ever since starting at Georgetown, he’d felt eyes on him constantly, but the intensity increased tenfold each time his classmates thought he was too occupied to see them staring. He noticed every time, but of course nothing could be done about it.

The name _ HRH shitty bird boy _ popped across his screen. How strange - in only a week, he’d almost entirely forgotten that the name he had (quite maturely) given Ronan in his phone was… _ that. _As he swiped the notification open, he felt a certain amount of trepidation as to what a technology-averse prince would ever text him about.

His harassment and emergency fears flew out the window with the body of the text, simply a screenshot of their tabloid appearance with the added caption of _ youre the nerd and I’m the cool jock. _

_ Competitive yachting? _Adam asked in response, nearly tripping over his own feet while typing.

_ ffs i told them to stop writing that as my preferred sport. _

Adam felt his lips twist against his will.

_ I’m sorry, this is a common problem? _

_ you can’t even imagine. _

_ I appreciate that they consider competitive yachting a regal sport. _

_ status symbols and faux athleticism are the core of the monarchy. _

Adam blinked down at his phone, stopping short abruptly. Persephone, from behind him, adjusted accordingly.

He…hadn’t been expecting this. Any of it. The text, the almost-joking response, the casual statement about the monarchy being ridiculous despite him being in it. Their conversation ended there, and it was probably for the better. He resumed his pace, trying to get to his next class. He almost forgot about the texts, too; save for a rogue screenshot Adam sent him of speculation on Ronan’s presence in Majorca, nothing else went between them.

Sometimes, Adam could _ just barely _ get away with being on his phone during briefings with Maura. He hated to be distracted during them - they were _ important, _he knew that, but all the same occasionally she spent a particularly long time covering an obscure dignitary’s comments and he’d gotten too few hours of sleep to truly focus and someone or other was blowing up his phone.

Maura’s topic of conversation this week appeared to be a series of Buzzfeed articles run on the lack of pets in the First Family, complete with a power point dissecting their points

The glamorous side of politics, truly. Discussing a clickbait series in the West Wing briefing room.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 30 October, 2019, 1:47 pm _

_ if you want a pet chainsaw dragged in a mouse the other day _

_ Ah yes, the mouse. A pet eternally beloved by constituents. _

_ we can’t all have a raven, that would be unfair _

_ Your heights of cool and goth are truly dizzying. _

_ im glad you agree _

_ Modest, too. _

_ it comes with the wealth and fame _

_ As long as you’re being straight with me, feel free to be as ‘modest’ as you like. _

_ i’m the prince of bloody england. i’m straight all the damn time _

_ That’s the biggest lhxemxlp_

His phone slipped from between his fingers, landing with a dull _ thud _onto the wooden floor. Adam stared helplessly at it, a sleek black rectangle hiding between types of oak. But Maura repeated his name, and he suddenly remembered what had made him drop his phone in the first place. He dragged his eyes up, staring at a spot on the sterile white wall just beyond Maura’s head.

“Adam,” she said a third time, but he refused to look her in the eyes. She conceded immediately. “What the hell?”

He felt his cheeks darken as blood found its way up. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips thinned just like Blue’s did, turning into a dark line on her brown face. “Do you even remember what I was saying?”

“Er…” he scrambled. “Don’t mention animals in any public setting?”

She looked at him for a long moment, then picked up a mug of coffee and took a controlled sip.

“Get out?” she said once she’d swallowed her sip.

“I-”

She pointed to the door. “I am impossibly busy. Take your phone and go laugh in private.”

He nodded once, finally, ducking under the table with his spine pressed against the bottom to grab his phone. His fingers closed around it, grip the edge of the wood, and he was up in a second.

He couldn’t regret it.

Because - well, here was the weird thing.

He wanted another text from Ronan.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 31 October, 2019, 12:03 am _

_ it’s finally spooky day in your hell country _

_ Isn’t it 5 am in England? _

_ Do you ever sleep? _

_ bold of you to ask that question _

_ halloween, bitch _

_ it waits for no one _

_ I’m really going to have to advocate better habits. _

_ I understand, you’re enthused for Halloween. _

_ do you even care at all _

_ I enjoy halloween like everyone else. _

_ Though your level of excitement feels a little pagan? _

when the skeleton army rises Jesus will forgive me

_ appreciate this glorious day parrish _

_ I have enough fear in my daily life, thanks. _

_ I filed my own taxes all throughout highschool. _

_ And payed rent. _

_ The horrors of early adulthood. _

_terrifying _

_ terrible i’ll never deal with that shit _

_ You’re the prince, we know. _

_ Do you also not have enough horror in your life? _

of course i do

_ but parrish. listen. _

_ this is the one day a year all the monarchy and parliament dress as they are in life _

_ hideous monsters _

He laughed a little harder at that than he should have.

_ You’re telling me the monarchy plays dress up. _

_ ronan_frankensteins_monser_costume.jpg _

_ matthew insisted. did this on me an hour ago _

_ oh my god _

The makeup _ was _really good, and the monstrous look suited him, but hell if Adam ever said that to him.

He may have saved it to his phone, though, to glimpse Ronan’s green-paint covered skin and crooked, drawn-on stitch smile on his perfectly blank face.

Although Adam certainly didn’t intend to make a habit of texting the Prince of England, when he saw a funny bird or a stupid article or an obscure meme his first thought became _I should send that to Ronan. _And Ronan, clearly, was thinking along the same lines. The sheer number of sole emojis that seemed to tell a Ronan-centric story he received at all hours only affirmed that. And somehow, between all the pictogramme and jokes, he started to learn snatches of information. Declan was a better storyteller than Ronan, Matthew was the only person who could make Ronan attend family dinners ever since their father died, and his mother - the Queen of England, Adam had to remind himself sometimes - drew further away every day.

The problem became that he always wanted to know _ more, _and Adam didn’t know if that was due to his rampant curiosity or something else buried deep inside of him, and he was too afraid of what he might uncover by digging to look.

Adam had very few friends.

Most of that came with the territory of being part of the First Family; nothing made casual acquaintances drift away quite like being constantly surveilled by Secret Service agents and trailed by NDAs. Adam didn’t have time for small talk and coffee, a fact which he sometimes lamented and often loved. Part of this came from the type of friendship he became accustomed to with Gansey and Blue, the all-encompassing type of friendship that took over their minds in spare moments and forged ties stronger than steel between them. He’d probably forgotten how to have normal, casual friends, not friends an outsider would think he was completely in love with. And, perhaps more than anything else, it came back down to Robert Parrish and his heavy hands and ringing words. Adam’s memories of his first few years were scattered and inconsistent, but they filled up a too-large corner of his brain all the same. Blue, who entered his life at the tender age of 5, had won his trust with greater ease than their other peers, and Gansey had done the same in high school. They knew him and what he’d been through, and so they could (platonically) love him for all that he was. When campaigning and political office came into the mix, that full truth of Adam Parrish became a secret to guard like any else.

But, oddly enough, Adam had a third friend: Noah Czerny, the thirty-three-year-old baby of the Senate.

Noah and Adam met through an Aglionby networking event while Adam was a student and Noah a recently-elected congressperson, both green as grass in different ways. Adam, thrown neck-deep into a Presidential campaign, had questions, and most of the time Noah had answers. Although all of the professors had warned Adam to proceed cautiously with Czerny, Adam found nothing to fear. Noah had mellowed out quite a bit from his high school days, becoming a familiar face at political events and a surprisingly-wise piece of advice always at the ready. Despite Adam’s near hero-worship of this brand-new politician, half-Mexican just like him and just as frequent to lose sleep rewriting policies that unjustly taxed communities of color or defunded children’s education, they’d formed an improbable bond. The summer before his sophomore year, Noah let Adam closer to the politics process than even his mother had as he ran for the Senate, and Adam took to it almost at once. A politician twelve years his senior was perhaps not a conventional choice of friend, but Adam seldom remained conventional.

It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for Adam to arrive at Noah’s congressional office unannounced, either with business or without, and so when Adam rounded on Noah’s stark, bright, white office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see him ducked over an obscene number of papers.

“It’s Friday night,” Noah said without looking up, barely before Adam had even crossed into the office. As always, the tiny burst of color in the Pride flag deposited in a tourist mug drew Adam’s eye for a long moment before Noah himself did. All Adam could see of him was his brown curls, resolutely held in place even as bent over a desk. “Go party or something.”

“Damn, I didn’t _ think _ this looked like a frat. I knew something was off.” Adam slid into one of the seats across the desk. He had several inches on Noah, but he always felt smaller in those chairs across from the most important legislators in the country. “What’s got you here at eight PM?” Off of Noah’s brief, incredulous look, he amended to _ “this _particular time, I know. You’re salaried. Shouldn’t you…ever go home?”

“I’m trying to get something done so that there’s at least a hope of banning fracking in our lifetimes.”

Adam scoffed quietly, though not for lack of faith in Noah. “Let me know when you’ve cracked the code.”

_ “If, _but sure, I’ll be in contact. Now, why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer my leaving-the-building question.”

Noah’s eyes flickered shut briefly. “Jesus, Adam, I am salaried by the taxpayers of millions of Americans. I’m not going to slack on them.”

“Fine, but don’t make me drag Gansey in here to make you take a long nap and drink some hot soup.”

Adam’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it; despite it being almost 1 am in England, Ronan could presumably take the blame. Noah asked, “Did you catch the Fox town hall last night?”

Adam grimaced. He’d seen part of it, trying to multitask with his macroeconomics homework at the same time, but instead he’d fallen asleep with his head on the laptop screen. “Part of it. It was a shitshow.”

“You can say that again.”

“I honestly thought that Whelk would pull more support from the extremists. He just seemed desperate last night.”

“Oh, he definitely was.” Noah leaned away from his desk, appraising Adam as though considering his words carefully. “We went to school together.”

“Aglionby?” Adam asked. He knit his eyebrows together. “How did I not realize he went there?”

“The school doesn’t exactly love toting him.”

“He’s older than you, though, right?”

“Yes, Adam,” Noah said slowly. “I’m thirty-three. He’s already announced a bid for President. How old do you have to be to run for executive office?”

Adam scowled. “I just came from class, I can’t use my brain. He was a senior when you were a freshman?”

“Yep,” Noah replied. “We were paired in upperclassmen-lowerclassmen bonding.” His lip curled a little. “He outed me.”

“Wait, _ what?” _

“He outed me to the school,” Noah repeated. He looked back down to the papers on his desk, his voice softening to a barely audible level. “I trusted him, which was a dumb thing to do, but I was a really stupid freshman. Scared, too. He was a friendly personality.”

_ “Fuck,” _Adam said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, that’s…”

“Terrible?” A bit of Noah’s life returned to him. “Don’t worry about it, kid. It was years ago.”

“But then…Whelk, he was the reason you…?”

“He didn’t make my parents react the way they did. They did that on their own. But no, they wouldn’t have known without him.”

Adam shook his head. “I thought it wasn’t possible to like the guy less, if only because of his politics, but he’s done it.”

“Done what? Received the full wrath of Adam Parrish?”

“He very well may.”

“Don’t worry about him. Whelk will be out soon, believe me. I know him. He may have his parent’s money, but he’s barely old enough to hold office and he’s running on fumes.”

“If he’s not, I’ll convince Blue to skew stats until he is.” Noah knew just as well as Adam that that wouldn’t change anything, but it lightened the air anyway. “It seems kind of pointless to entertain any of them. Greenmantle is probably going to win no matter what.”

Colin Greenmantle: former antique collector, congressperson from Massachusetts, and millionaire with the funds to take over the Republican primary, and very possibly the whole election, before any papers were even filed.

“It’s early,” Noah said. “Too early to worry about it. Too early to even be _ talking _ about it.”

Adam slanted a half-smile at him. “Never too early to worry about an election.”

Noah looked back to his papers before broaching the next topic. “I hear you’ve got a job on your mother’s re-election campaign.”

“Once I graduate, and maybe a little earlier, yeah.”

Noah cast a glance around the office. “Are you sure this is the life you want?”

Adam knew he was referring to the constant bustle, the fear of disappointing and harming instead of helping, and the ever-evolving media scrutiny. He knew it was the closest Noah would give to a warning. “I’m sure.”

Noah sighed. “Fine.” He pointed to the door. “But I won’t let you throw your youth away, not this early. After you graduate, Parrish. Go get drunk and make out with someone.”

Adam stood, his frame unfolding and standing tall. “You are a terrible role model.”

“Can’t hear you over the loud music.”

“You and Blue and Gansey - if I die of alcohol poisoning, it’s all your fault.”

“Feel free to blame, so long as you’re out there and not here.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus. You’ve made your point.”

“Finally,” Noah called after Adam’s retreating form. But Adam could hear the amusement in his voice all the same.

For someone so allergic and averse to technology, Ronan sure seemed to share a lot with Adam.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 13 Novemeber, 2019, 8:38 pm _

_ bird.m4a _

_ she wont stop nuzzling my head?? _

_ Picking for lice, probably. _

_ God knows you have so many. _

_ my scalp is perfectly clean _

_ Forgive me for abstaining from running my hands over it all the same. _

_ I’ll leave that to her. _

He didn’t always respond, though.

Adam tried not to read into it.

(He mostly succeeded.)

Adam never tired of stepping into the Oval Office. On the Wednesday right before Thanksgiving, he stepped in with the same amount of awe he always had, allowing himself a single moment to glance around at the wide windows and perfectly upholstered furniture. He sat on one of the couches without preamble.

His mother looked up from what was in front of her on the desk and smiled, albeit a tired one that frayed a bit at the corners; Adam had seen a few particularly troublesome foreign dignitaries be escorted away not long before, so he didn’t have to guess at the reason. Ana looked like she belonged to sit right there amongst all the history at that desk, from the sun dipping just beneath her halo of hair straightened within an inch of its life and her stick-straight posture. It might have been a lot at times, but seeing her was a reminder of all the good that came from her position.

She rose and walked to join him, her heels clacking lightly at the ground before she sank onto the cushion beside him and pulled him into a loose hug. Adam had overtaken Ana in height some years before, but there had been a long gap in there as he grew - like one day he was three and a half feet tall and wrapped tightly in her arms and the next he was off to Georgetown and several heads taller. She pulled away after a minute, slowly and bit-by-bit as though savoring her moments as a mother rather than a president. Her hand reached to muss his hair a moment later, and Adam ducked away instinctively before exchanging an identical grin with her.

“God, I forgot how light your hair looks in here,” she said, leaning back a little. “Almost golden.” She tilted her head as though examining him. “Nah. Still brown. But much lighter.”

“How could you forget? The photo here was in _ GQ, _the same article that first declared me the family golden boy.” At the corner of their conversation was the knowledge of where he’d inherited that hair color, as it sure as hell wasn’t from Ana. But he let the thought stay buried, patting the dirt back down with the shovel himself. Their relationship always had an absence in it, and he didn’t particularly feel like deepening it in the Oval Office.

“Ah, so that’s the one I have to blame for your big head,” she responded, reaching for a piece of fruit from the little coffee table. It was a familiar half-jest, borne from Adam’s constant contradicting confidence and imposter syndrome. Idiosyncrasies were just Adam’s style, never one to make things easy for himself. He sometimes wondered if so much of himself conflicted because he tried to walk the middle road so often, balancing his weight over all sides to minimize the damage if the rug was yanked from beneath him, like lying down on a bed of nails: a thousand tiny, dull pains over one sharp, potentially fatal puncture. She smiled again. “Is Noah doing well?”

“For Noah he is. He would barely look up from some new reports on fracking, seems hopeful he’ll be able to garner enough support.”

Ana snorted. “Good luck with that. I’ll be shocked if it reaches the floor for debate.”

“That makes three of us, then.” He nodded towards the desk. “Bad meeting?”

The frown lines on her face deepened. “Don’t get me started,” she drawled, falling back fully against the cushions. After only a moment, she _ did _ get started regardless of what Adam did or didn’t do. “We received the memo a few days ago that a delegation from Sweden wanted to be in contact, right? Fairly standard stuff, Maura gets back to them quickly because they worded it like it was an urgent matter, and there’s a back and forth for a while about scheduling and accommodations. We’re of the belief they won’t be out here until Monday at the earliest.”

Adam knit his eyebrows together. “It’s not Monday.”

“You fuckin’ tell me. Anyway, I’m halfway through a meeting with a few UN representatives when Maura has to interrupt. They arrived at the White House, claimed they had a meeting, and just…didn’t leave. Evan Maura couldn’t get through to them, which is the thing that scared me a little.”

“You should have put Calla on it.”

“Believe me, if she were here, I would’ve. But as it was, I had to hurry out the UN members to deal with decidedly more antagonistic foreign relations.”

“Why were they even here?”

“They wanted to discuss the military relationship between our countries-”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” she said, waving one hand in dismissal. “Any points they were trying to make went straight out the window when they started pulling out cue cards, to be honest. I might have to call Löfven to smooth things over.”

“Well, there’s never a dull moment,” Adam said fairly. His mother snorted.

“Sure isn’t. Anyway,” she said, glancing at her watch, “it’s now Thanksgiving, so no more meetings for twenty-four hours.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

She pulled a face in dismissal. “We take our patriotism seriously, darlin’. Don’t want our home state gettin’ too mad.”

“Of course.”

Ana checked her watch again. “The turkeys will be on their way to the Willard by now, so we’re not ruining any American traditions today.”

“Wait,” Adam said. “Where?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “The Willard. They stay there every year.”

“What? No. _ No. _You cannot give the turkeys five-star accommodations with taxpayer dollars. You’ve been doing this every year?!”

“It’s public knowledge, sugar. Every news outlet mentions it.”

“How did I not-” Adam cut off. “There is no way you can do that! They’re turkeys! It’s a waste!”

“It’s precedent, Adam. I’m not sure if there’s anything to be done at this point.”

Adam stood quickly, pacing back and forth, and his mother stood behind him. “It’s a _ blatant _waste of money, I’m shocked we haven’t already been-”

“Hon, every president so far has done the same-”

“Imagine the story if we broke the tradition! Even conservatives would have to applaud your frugality-”

“We can’t play games with tradition, you know they already call us disrespectful-”

“-we can’t be using _ taxpayer money-” _

“-by all means, if you have the time to find lodging for two forty-pound turkeys-”

“Put them in my room!” Adam blurted. His mother stopped short.

“You’re not serious,” she said. “We’re not putting the turkeys for me to pardon in your bedroom.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Adam-”

He shifted his feet, coming to a stop. He lifted himself up to his full height. Debate Captain Adam, six-time Best Delegate Adam, and First Son Adam converged into one. His mother barely looked phased.

“Oh, God,” his mother said. “I can’t listen to another sales pitch.”

“Madame President,” Adam began, “I’d like to echo the sentiments of the forebears before me-”

“Nope,” she said, making double-time back to her desk. “You’re not going to filibuster me.”

“In 2018 alone, at least forty-three articles in the Wall Street Journal accused the sitting administration of wasting tax dollars. This came on the heels of a tax increase for Americans making more than ten million dollars per year and the subsequent pushback from a more conservative electorate in Congress.”

“Fine!” Ana said, her hand falling to the desk with a thump. She brought it back up to her head to massage her temple a moment later. “I’m too tired to hear my own history read back at me. You win.”

He sat back down on the couch, crossing his legs primly. “Perfect,” he said, allowing himself to smile once again.

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Familiar Faces

Cal Kestis x reader

warnings:

a/n: ohhhh my god im sorry this is the last cal idea i had im so sorry there are requests for him now ahhahahhah

prompt: it’s been too long since cal and y/n had seen each other

“Cal, can you hear me?” Cere asked over. the comms. Cal was making his rounds on Zeffo, he’d probably be here a while.

“Loud and clear, Cere. What’s going on?” Cal slowed his run to a walk to hear what Cere had to say, she sounded serious and he could hear the Mantis getting ready to move.

“We intercepted more imperial transmissions and it sounds like you inspired another Jedi to come out of hiding. Greez and I are going to find them before the Empire does, are you going to be okay here?” Cere explained and waited for Cal’s response.

“Of course I’ll be okay, go find our Jedi, I’ll talk to you soon.” Cal stopped in his tracks and proudly smiled to himself, glad that he wasnt alone on the front lines anymore. Hopefully. He went on with his journey, running into some sort of trouble every few steps. So much better than hiding, for sure.

—————

Meanwhile, you were on Tatooine, dodging every authority in sight. You didn’t actually want to be found, but some people want their payday. All you wanted to do was finish up the ship you were being paid to tune up and make some money, but here you were on a middle of nowhere planet with the galaxy’s most ruthless soldiers on your tail. It was a good thing you’d kept your lightsaber all these years, something told you that you were going to need it.

“‘Go to Tatooine,’ they told you, ‘no one’ll ever look for you there.’” You muttered to yourself as you peered out the alley to see if the coast is clear. It wasn’t. You saw your boss talking to an inquisitor and her troops. “This isn’t gonna be good, is it?” You asked yourself and overheard your boss telling them which way he saw you go and exactly where you lived. “Oh, come on, Sal, I thought we were friends.” You rolled your eyes and turned around to see an older woman standing at the end of the alley with her blaster in her hand. She saw your lightsaber and you thought this was it, but she put the blaster back in it’s holster and approached without fear.

“I’m Cere, I’m here to help.” She told you with her hand extended for you. “I can’t explain everything now, but we came here for you. We have the other Jedi.” Your eyes went wide as you realized she really was here to rescue you. “Let’s go.” She backtracked to her ship without being spotted by any imperial enemies. Only problem is, the ship was far off in the desert so that it wouldn’t be spotted. “You haven’t talked the whole way here.” Cere sat down on the couch and invited you over by patting the seat.

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” You accepted her invitation and leaned your head back. “Today didn’t exactly go as planned.” You blew a piece of hair from your face and leaned forward, turning your head to her and holding your hand out. “I’m y/n, I realize I haven’t told you my name yet.”

“Well, y/n, are you ready to restore the Jedi Order?” Cere asked and took you off guard.

“That’s what I’m doing here? Wow,” you chuckled with a look of disbelief stuck on your face, “where’s the other guy?”

“On a planet called ‘Zeffo.’ He’s supposed to be searching old Jedi temples by now.” She explained. “I’d like you to meet him without any preconceived notions from me. You’ll see him very soon. Would you like something to eat?”

“Oh, sure. Thanks.” You closed your eyes and wonder what it was you had just gotten yourself into. “Who’s the captain of this ship, huh?”

“That would be Greez. You should head to the cockpit and say ‘hi.’” She suggested while fixing up some leftovers. You figured there was nothing better to do and took a look in the cockpit.

“Hey! There you are!” Greez greeted you with a bundle of warmth. “I’m Greez Dritus, captain of the Mantis, and you are..?” He waited patiently for a reply.

“Y/N L/N.” You answered respectfully. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a Lateron.” You observed his four arms and he let out a hearty laugh.

“Oh, yeah? Get used to it! Hope you didn’t track any sand onto my ship.” You could tell he was joking. “I like you, kid. Cere told me I wasn’t allowed to talk about our other Jedi friend until you met him, not sure why, but oh, well. More time to talk about me!” Greez joked and you joined in his laughter. “We’re almost to Zeffo, kid. Take a seat.”

The Mantis landed on Zeffo and was greeted by heavy fire from an AT-ST. Since it wasn’t the worst threat, you quietly ate your warmed leftovers in the kitchen while Cere called the mystery Jedi that you would be partnered with.

“He’ll be here soon.” She informed as you stared at your glass of water. “Have you used the Force since Order 66?”

“Not really, I haven’t had to. I’m probably a bit rusty.” You admitted, getting a bit distracted by the sound of the imperial walker taking shots at the ship. “Are you sure were safe in here?”

“We’re perfectly fine, I’d like to see you use the force on that glass, if you’re up for it.” She motioned to the water and you gulped and heard the AT-ST start to shoot in another direction, which made you feel better.

“Uh...yeah, okay.” You lifted your hand gently and closed your eyes in an attempt to concentrate, feel the Force around you. You had to open yourself back up to it.

“You’re doing good, y/n.” She told you as she saw the glass levitate slightly, but you suddenly jumped and the glass flew across the room and shattered. You were gasping for breath and she put a hand on your shoulder to calm you. “Hey, that’s not a big deal. I can clean it up.”

“I’m confused about your relationship to the Force.” You told her and she chuckled.

“Well, I was a Jedi, but—” She was cut off by the sound of the door of the Mantis opening for the other Jedi. You looked up and watched as the young redhead boarded and greeted him crew, then turned his gaze to see you on the couch. You were quick to get up and stunned at who you were looking at.

“Cal Kestis?” You asked in disbelief while slowly stepping towards him.

“Y/N L/N?” He did the same and suddenly the two of you had your arms locked around each other, his hand was placed at the back of your head, tangling with your hair.

“I...I thought you died.” You whispered with a shaky voice, you were filled with all sorts of emotions during this reunion. You blinked back tears and let out a soft chuckle after realizing that you got one of your best friend’s back.

“Well, that makes two of us.” He pulled you away and you moved your hands to his face, tracing his scars.

“Where have you been?” You looked into his teary eyes and he held onto your hand that was caressing his cheek.

“Bracca, and you?” Cal couldn’t help but smile upon closer look of your face.

“Tatooine.” You placed your head onto his chest and bit your lip to keep it from shaking.

“So, you two know each other?” The pair of you turned to Cere with her arms crossed and a himt of a smile.

“Me and y/n were padawan learners together, our masters had us train together often. We were best friends as kids.” Cal explained to Cere.

“Well, I’m glad there’s some familiarity. Why don’t you bring y/n to your quarters and catch up, maybe explain the mission?”

—————

Well, in the end, things didn’t exactly gonas planned, you were just glad that everyone was okay. You were sore, so sore from all pressure you had put on your body, it was all so sudden. You passed out on your bunk above an injured Cal, the last thing he could remember was you dropping when Vader had thrown you across the hall of the fortress. He shot up from his sleep and nearly hit his head. He dreamed you died, scrambling to figure out if it was true.

Cal spotted your arm hanging off the side of the bunk and hoisted himself up to you to investigate. Fortunately, you were still with him, but he woke and startled you, sending you backwards with a gasp.

“Oh, god, Cal!” You launched yourself into his arms and he fell back, you laid on top of him, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Are you kidding me? I thought you were a goner while we were still in the fortress. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” He stroked your back and you listened to his breathing. “I don’t think I can lose you again.”

“You won’t. I promise.” You lifted yourself off of him and slipped your eyes down to his lips, but quickly back up. Bad idea. You hoped that Cal didn’t notice, but of course he did.

“Come on, let’s go see the team.” He suggested before you sheepishly crawled off of him and waited for him to hop off the bunk. You paused with your legs draped over the side of the bed and stared at your calloused hands, trying to picture your fate if it weren’t for Cal and the others. “Are you coming?” You noticed he was watching you the whole time and looking a bit worried with a grin to ease himself.

“Uh—ye...yeah.” You stuttered and dropped from the bed, Cal caught your sides and held you momentarily, keeping you close to him. “The crew?” You whispered.

“I know, I know. I just...need a second.” Cal placed his forehead on yours and closed his eyes. “We’re Jedi.”

“Right.” You agreed, trying to be rational in your mind, trying to figure out what he was getting at, trying not to get your hopes up that he might be implying that there was a reason he would want to break the Code.

“There’s no Council.” He added, making your lips part ever so slightly upon realization.

“Yeah.” You moved your rough, worn down hands to his cheeks and he opened his eyes, you sensed confliction in him, but he could say the same for you. “Cal?”

“Yeah?” Cal answered but you cut off your thoughts and watched him standing there in front of you, each of you still a bit battle damaged, but it was okay because you still had each other. There was a moment of realization where you thought that was all you needed, each other. Damn the Jedi Code.

Cal didn’t exactly grow impatient, he just couldn’t go another second without learning how you tasted. He tightened his grasp on you and leaned forward to your lips, joining them with yours. You pushed forward and wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders to deepen this experience, he was gentle, moving his hands up your waist a bit. He enjoyed the hums that were slipping from your throat.

“I can’t lie to you, I’ve been waiting to do that for a while.” You shyly admitted and gave him a quiet chuckle.

“I know, me too.” He placed a separate kiss on your forehead. And your nose. And your cheek. And your other cheek. You were giggling, he was happy, then he took your hands into his and whispered. “This is our new path.”

#cal kestis imagine #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #star wars x y/n #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars #star wars jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order imagine #jedi fallen order x reader #jedi fallen order

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halorocks1214 · 5 years

Text

the law of action

AO3 Link

Word Count: 10100

Summary: The Law of Action must be applied in order for us to manifest things on earth. Therefore, we must engage in actions that support our thoughts, dreams, emotions, and words

Previous Parts (in order): Alan | You are here! | Virgil | Scott | Gordon

these just keep getting longer fellas i dont understand how thats possible but it is. ALSO: REMEMBER IN ATTRACTION WHEN I MENTIONED THAT THESE WERE BEING WRITTEN OUT OF ORDER. HA, UH, KIND OF AN UNDERSTATEMENT I GUESS. but its here! johns pov chapter! im pretty satisfied with it, albeit a few kinks i wasnt really able to work out, so i hope you enjoy it too!

thanks again to @gumnut-logic for the prompts! "Where?" and lightning were this fic's choices. sad to see the last ones go away, but this was still a blast so thank you once more! also, just because the prompts are gone doesnt mean this series will be too ;3

Anger was a rare emotion for John Tracy.

It had to be. When dealing with the cold hard truth of data telling them something wasn't possible or dealing with annoying people who thought they knew better than him or dealing with people panicking in his ear because nobody expected the aftershock of an earthquake to be that bad, he didn’t have a choice. There were a lot of deals in life that had to be made and someone needed to play peacemaker, even if it wasn’t deserved.

It was true that he got the least angry out of his siblings, even compared to Virgil. Virgil might not get necessarily violent like Scott did, or threw caution to the wind like Gordon, or, hell, pulled off whatever John does when someone somehow manages puts him in a bad mood, but Virgil did get angry quite a lot. He just didn’t have as many blatant ways of showing it. John, on the other hand, didn’t have a lot of ticks. Pet peeves, definitely, John was no stranger to annoyance (especially with siblings like his), but not outright anger.

That didn’t mean he never got angry. He was Tracy born and bred, so that meant one the few ticks he did have surrounded the topic of family.

Specifically, his family being threatened.

John wished he was the youngest sometimes. That meant he could say things like let Scott punch the idiot already, he’d be doing the world a favor, and not get lambasted for the immature response. It also meant he could throw tantrums to hell and back and not feel like a total loser.

Like right now for example.

“EOS, I swear, if you don’t open the elevator door for me--”

“No, I won’t.”

Unbelievable.

Groaning and rubbing his face, his hands found their way up to his forehead and through his hair, holding his bangs out of his eyes for a moment. His eyes had many emotions in them, the most blatant being this shit cannot be happening right now, “EOS, do you know you’re amazing? I don’t think I’ve said that enough.”

EOS whirled for a moment, “John, I’ve seen that grin on Gordon. I cannot believe you would stoop that low.”

The grin she pointed out fell flat off his face, “Yeah, okay, you’re right about that--”

“Like I always am.”

“--So thank you,” John was going to strangle whoever defined sass so thoroughly in the dictionary. It left a bad example, “For the reminder, but seriously, I need to get up to ‘Five. It’s… important.”

It’s been a week since Alan was taken.

They’ve exhausted all options.

The only thing that could possibly get him back to them had to be International Rescue’s resources.

But EOS over here wasn’t getting the memo. Her words had that hint of childish innocence behind it. In that way that said there was no innocence whatsoever and she knew exactly what she was doing, the little shit, “John, do you really need to, or do you want to?”

There’s the inflection that John taught her. An inhale through the nose and… Uuuugghh, “EOS, I know the difference between needs and wants, this is definitely a need.”

Another lens blink, another moment of disbelief, “It seems like you have a lot of needs, John Tracy.”

John grimaced and ground his jaw together, mumbling his grievances with the current situation, “Yeah, well, if there’s any trait I truly share with my siblings, it’s that we’re all high maintenance.” His next words were more clear and designed to get the point across, “EOS, I’m not kidding, unlock the door.”

EOS stood her ground, “John, you going up there is one of the most detrimental things to you’re health at the current moment. I won’t let you.”

John threw his hands into the air, “EOS, there’s are whole lotta things that are currently detrimental to my health currently happening, one more thing won’t hurt.”

EOS lens shuttered again and John felt like it was nails on a chalkboard, “You have a point, but I’ve seen you with Scott when he’s in a similar mood. Don’t you tell him he needs to take a moment and think when he gets like this?”

John groaned as quietly as possible. Not too loud, but loud enough that EOS hopefully got the point, “Yes, I do, but I’m not Scott. We are two very different people, you have pointed this out numerous times. We have different ways of handling things, this, and ‘Five is exactly how I can fix this problem.”

That was not how he should’ve worded that. Her lights flickered in sympathy, sympathy, and he knew she finally figured out what John was trying to get at, “John, there may still be a lot I have to learn, but at least I understand--”

“No, EOS!” John snapped before he could help himself. Before she could finish explaining her point of view that was most likely right, but his desperate brain didn’t want to hear it. His brain that was running on zero energy telling him this was taking too long, fix that, “You can’t understand!”

Just like that, John was reminded of why he hated getting angry.

As soon as the words left his mouth, so did the air in his lungs. Through sheer will and determination, the only thing that didn’t leave his body was the little amounts of food he ate over the past seven days, though it really wanted to. He became very pale, and EOS could detect the not-so-trace amounts of fear that fell over his eyes.

Dammit, you idiot. Months upon that past year of work were now going to go down the drain because you blew your lid just this once! First, the call with Alan, now telling the one thing that could kill you in your sleep she’ll never essentially be good enough was--

“I know, John.”

His food came back with a vengeance, but he was bullheaded as hell, and he already caused enough damage. The last thing anyone needed was to clean up vomit. It would’ve been nicer if she got angry at him. He could handle being thrown out into space. He couldn’t handle EOS admitting he was right, least of all over blatantly cruel words.

He channeled the energy his stomach wanted to use into weak words, “E-EOS, I…” What the hell was he supposed to say? Sorry surely wasn’t going to fucking cut it.

Well, whatever he wanted to cut didn’t come up, as EOS continued as if John wasn’t the worst thing on the planet, “I’ve been doing some reading. I understand that I’ll never really understand certain human-based things like you do. You, humans, have gotten close, me being one of the better examples, as long as that’s not considered bragging, but even I’m not at that level yet. But I do at least know you and your habits. I put up with them on a daily basis.”

Because if there’s anything else John needed to fail this week, it was the one promise he made to her. His promise to keep her safe, to make sure she wasn’t treated like a mindless robot by some crazy scientists ready and willing to cut her circuitry wide open like a middle-school science project. While he would never even get close to being a quote-on-quote crazy scientist, never in a million light-years, he surely didn’t follow that middle part of his promise, “EOS, listen, I--”

“Please, John,” and now she was pleading, thinking he was going to ask to use the elevator again. Thinking he wasn’t going to give up, even after all of that. John might’ve laughed if it wasn’t his fucking fault, “I’ll help look for more options if it means you’ll stay here for a little while longer. You should stay with your family. I know how they affect you in those positive ways that you currently need.”

John was abruptly aware of his heavy, almost wheeze-like breathing. If he wasn’t careful, it could delve into one whopper panic attack, which would be so great right now, “Y-Yeah, okay. They probably won’t understand the effects of gravity over an elongated period of time like I do, so I can stay and help with that, at least. Thank you.”

As John turned around, he heard EOS whisper to herself. He could blearily tell it was actually fondness that filled her vocal waves for once, but it still stung regardless, “Idiot.”

Yeah, he really was, wasn’t he.

As he helped look over his Dad’s med-scan with Virgil, when Virgil went looking for something on the other side of the room, his father whispered, “I know this is a bad question right about now, but, is there anything we can do for you? Maybe even I? You look dead on your feet.”

John could only reply to the first half of his father’s statement with a meek, “I don’t know anymore.”

---

16-year-old John Tracy was seated atop his roof, making sure he got the perfect view of the Big-Dipper.

He was hoping to spot a more exciting constellation when he first used his new telescope, but dangit! He was just so excited to get cracking right away! He just got back from his birthday party, Alan and Gordon snoozing in their rooms while Scott and Virgil secretly finished off the cake. That was okay. John was too busy focusing on his new expensive toy to worry about having any more sweets.

His dad could pull some strings when it counted.

Newest model. The only other people who have this baby are scientists at NASA. Happy birthday, John. Sorry I didn’t get you a car like Scott.

Fuck cool cars. John would be on cloud 9 for days with this thing. Scott would call him a nerd for it. Jokes on Scott, he couldn’t zoom about 10 thousand miles into space now, could he?

Right as he nailed it, the world shook. Large arms snaked around his waist and he involuntarily found himself giggling at the contact. As soon as those limbs let go, he blushed at his reaction and cleared his throat. Suddenly, the arms were an entire body sitting down right next to him, speaking with their ever-comforting burly voice, “Hiya, son, I see you just couldn’t wait, huh?”

Rolling his eyes, John turned back into his serious, analytical self once more, “Yup, this thing’s crazy. I’m glad I got out here as quickly as I did.”

Jeff simply grinned. John was always reserved, but Jeff was a good translator for all of his sons, and he could tell that John meant this is one of the best things in my life holy crap, “That’s great to hear. The look on your face when I brought this out of the closet was certainly good enough to last me a few lifetimes.”

John snorted, “I bet it was. I heard Gordon joking about it with Alan. I don’t think I need to see any pictures anymore. I have a pretty good mental image of what I looked like.”

Jeff smiled and sighed, “No kidding. “Like a goldfish with a broken jaw.” Not the most eloquent, that Gordon is.”

Laughter rang out throughout the roof, followed by a few moments of silence. Not awkward, but not really welcomed on John’s part either, “Do you…” Stop it, John, you’re asking for too much, “Nevermind, it’s dumb.”

Jeff tilted an eyebrow, “Oh, is it? I guess you would know if something were smart or dumb, so I trust your judgment.”

Dangit, Dad, why are you so manipulative, and why are you so good at it, “I don’t know. I’ve established I wanted to be an astronaut, right?”

Jeff nodded, “Mmhmm.”

John, for some reason, felt like he needed to tread carefully, “You are also an astronaut. If there was any way for you to be able to… could you… could you come up with me the first time?”

Jeff blinked in shock, and before his son could register that as disapproval, “Huh, well, that’s certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. Sure, I don’t see why not.”

Now it was John’s turn to blink, his mouth gaped, “Wait, what? Are you serious? Aren’t there rules for this kind of stuff?”

Jeff shrugged, his shoulders clearly saying rules shmules, “I’m also one of the biggest entrepreneurs on the planet itself, and one of the most renowned ex-astronauts there are. You would not believe the lengths people are willing to go to kiss my ass. Would you feel better if I pinky promised?”

John’s nose scrunched, “You can never truly promise anything, you know.”

His father chuckled, used to his son’s antics. John was reserved, remember, “Well, you boys always credited me with doing the impossible.”

John continued challenging him, “When we were all less than 10, yeah, sure. I think Alan still thinks you can breathe in space. You. Specifically. No one else. I think he said you only wore the helmet to “protect your secret so the evil movie scientists don’t take you away.””

Chuckles turned into laughter and a clap on John’s shoulder, “Well, glad to see I still got the magic touch at least.” That same arm that playfully smacked him was now wrapped around his shoulders, “Just you wait, Johnny boy, if I can’t get on that ship with you, then you bet your ass I’ll at least be the loudest one cheering in the crowd.”

Then, suddenly, John was right, like he always was.

A promise that never should have been made: broken. A wish never fulfilled.

Dad was swallowed up by the very thing John loved.

No more space stories, no more fun moon facts, there was a void in John’s life as big as the galaxy itself, and he wasn’t sure how to walk around it, or God forbid even into it.

He tried to be the healthy sibling about it. He tried so hard. Getting through high school quicker than most so he could just worry about his family. Scott and Grandma were doing their best, and in so many ways, it was enough, but even they couldn’t bear all of the stress themselves.

But then his high school graduation came and Grandma gave him one of the biggest hugs of his and her life and he realized that he would never get one from his father again. His mom leaving this world was already bad enough, but at least his dad was there and knew how to fill in the gap after years and years of his marriage with her. You didn’t marry a woman like Lucille Tracy and not fundamentally understand how the gears in her brain turned lest you were truly insane. Maybe Dad was. Certainly would explain a lot of things from John’s perspective. Certainly would explain why she married him in the first place. Crazy attracts crazy.

Regardless, the one thing closest to his mom’s warmth and care was gone, and if he spent the night of his graduation party quietly sobbing his eyes out while the others slept, well, then he was glad they kept snoring.

Try as he might, he became just as unhealthy and unbalanced as the rest of his family, but he was more subtle about it. His self-destructive ways weren’t bad if other people had them, but when it came to him, oh, he knew it was the worst thing he could do in terms of recovery. That’s probably why the rest of the family didn’t notice (Good). John was smart, he would know better. Yes, he did, which is exactly why he dived headfirst right into it all.

Focusing on college, getting up into the star-filled void closer to his dead relatives as quickly as possible, focusing on the here-and-now to make sure this shit didn’t happen again. Making sure no family went through what theirs did.

And maybe that’s why, why he couldn’t handle the touch of others wanting to comfort him. Because it reminded him too much of what they used to have, of what they used to be. Too many hugs and kisses from others might wash away what his mom’s and dad’s felt like, and out of all the things they could potentially lose from this, those were the worst possible ones.

John was a Tracy, which meant he was stubborn.

He wasn’t going to lose the last few things he remembered about his parents if he could help it.

---

It had been just under a month, and John finally got what he wanted.

And it wasn’t working like he thought it would, if at all.

He’s been on ‘Five for three days, and for just a fleeting moment, it washed away any uncertainty. He felt back in control, if only minorly, and he held the world at his fingertips once more. Too bad the world he wanted to fix was so far away it felt like it was on the other side of the frickin solar system itself.

He promised his family four days at most. Please, just one chance. We won’t know unless we try. He wasn’t sure what cracked them first, them coming upon dead end after dead end, them finally seeing reason behind John’s argument, or if they just got annoyed with the space monitor after endless nagging and relented like tired parents.

The tiny part of John’s mind that still allowed him to joke kinda hoped it was the third option. “Easy child”, pfft. John’ll show them.

Right, right, a clear head, the most focused of IR, he can’t get unfocused or go too far off track. He’s saved many lives throughout his life, all of them thanks to his level head, but right now, he was arguably saving the most important life of all, so that meant he had even more incentive to stay focused.

In fact, he was so focused, he jumped at the sudden, feminine voice filling the room, “John, I found another article I think you would like to see about most common places criminals… John?”

Crap, he was halfway into the fetal position. Slowly uncurling, John nodded, “Oh, thank you, EOS. I’ll start reading it shortly.”

The noise of her lens adjusting sounded throughout ‘Five again, “Of course. Let me know if you would like me to start searching for a different topic, though. There has to be a limit to how many “You wouldn’t believe this” articles one can take, and I think I’m finding it really quickly.”

For the next few seconds, John was suddenly filled with a rush of determination he had been trying to get after their little confrontation in front of a locked elevator door to ‘Five.

She had been helping him out so much the past couple of weeks. Running unnecessary tests for him, searching parts of the web only she could search without getting tracked by some secret mafia, letting him know it was okay if he couldn’t get everything right the first time when two months ago she snapped at him for getting a simple algebra equation wrong due to lack of sleep. She had been especially patient with him recently, even after their little spat in the hangar, and John wasn’t sure how to process it. A tiny part wanted to resort to anger again because he clearly didn’t deserve her, but the more prevalent parts preferred something like depression or even apathy.

She had been making sure his world didn’t spin off its axis, and John couldn’t even tell her sorry until now.

“EOS, I’m sorry.”

She stopped moving, turned around and let her lights blink yellow for only a moment, “For what, John?”

The man in question waved his hands around in front of his face, lost, confusing her more. With a sigh, he explained, “For a lot of things, but mainly from a few weeks back when we had that argument. I said something that wasn’t okay, and I didn’t have the balls to own up to it until now. So, I’m sorry. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have even been near.”

For a little bit, it was quiet. John waited as the A.I. contemplated his words. Then, she spoke her judgment, “Well, I know you are. You haven’t exactly been working off your butt over nothing, right? Plus, reliable sources say one of the ways guilt manifests is anger. I’ve seen that with the rest of your family. It would make sense yours would too.”

John blinked. Part of him was expecting her to not fully understand why he was apologizing, but the other wanted her to just so he could get over this, just so he could let go of even just the teeniest amount of guilt he had, “EOS, anger isn’t a valid excuse. What I said was wrong. I don’t believe those words and you shouldn’t either. The whole point of this partnership is to show you that there’s more to life than just calculations and probabilities. It’s kind of hard to see that when the one person who promised to be different went and screwed it up anyway.”

John hoped EOS was at least questioning things now instead of letting his words go in one ear and out the other. Her next words said she was doing exactly the latter, “Okay. I don’t disagree with you, John, but I don’t know why you’re so hooked on this. I understand. We don’t have to worry about this unnecessarily anymore.”

Yes, you do understand. That’s the fucking point.

They weren’t getting anywhere, yet John didn’t even have the energy to groan in annoyance. He could even get his eyebrow to twitch.

All he could do was simply lean his head back against the wall and let his hair stick up against it like static electricity was flowing through it. The real reason it was sticking up was probably due to a mixture of Zero-Gs and grease from all of the showering he hasn’t been doing, however. His eyes had deep rings around them, and for a second, EOS thought about how relative age could be as a number while John softly spoke, “The Hood was an angry man, too, you know. He felt slighted by our family and wanted us to feel the same. It still doesn’t make what he did right.”

EOS thought about his words before coming to a logical conclusion, “Well, that’s certainly a leap in logic. There’s a big gap between simply yelling because you’re annoyed and literal kidnapping. One gives people a sour mood, the other gives them a significant amount of jail--”

“Yes, EOS, I’m aware of that,” John brought his hand to his face, but underneath it was a grin, telling the world that he was feeling fond exasperation more than anything. EOS was more obtuse than him sometimes. It was one of the few things of himself he wished she didn’t copy so easily. He sighed and brought his hand back down, “I’m just... putting things into perspective. I want you to see why my words were wrong. It would make me feel better if you did.”

EOS hung still, letting John’s admission roll over her wiring like a wave of electricity, “You have a lot of needs and wants. What takes precedent?”

More inflection. This time, John welcomed it. It gave him something to stand on. John wanted a lot of things. Alan to be home safe and sound, Dad to have not disappeared for nearly a decade, for his brothers to stop slowly killing themselves, for himself to stop, but the needs of the many, even the needs of one, outweigh the wants of a singular man like him, but, “Well, needs obviously, they’re necessary, however… it’s okay to be selfish every once in a blue moon. It doesn’t make you inherently bad.”

It was advice he parroted many-a-times to his family, some of them more often than others, seldom to himself if at all.

Scott, it’s okay if you have to tell them you can’t make this business conference.

Virgil, you can count inventory in the morning. You didn’t get any sleep last night either.

Gordon, if you can’t smile for a day or two, that doesn’t make you a bad person.

Kayo, you don’t have to patrol every night. We have security cams for a reason.

Alan, I know we tease you, but you missing a chore or two isn’t the end of the world.

Grandma, you already do enough for us, you barely cooking for us is the least of our worries.

That last one might be more for the rest of his family than not, but hey, two birds and one stone. Keeping his back against the wall, John stood up straighter against it, face suddenly serious, “In fact, wanting to be selfish is one of the best ways to tell that you’re human. You can’t escape it. It only becomes bad when you end up only being that.”

EOS sat in silence, her lens flickering in that way it always does when she was signifying she was about to pass judgment like a Goddess, which she seemed to be doing a lot more recently, “Well then… If I’m allowed one moment of self-reprieve, I suppose I should say that those words did… hurt.”

John grimaced despite very much understanding that he deserved it. The return of the inflection didn’t exactly help. Pushing himself away from the wall, he felt the metaphorical weight fall off his shoulders, “Yes, they did, and while they weren’t okay, it is okay to say that they weren’t. I still am very sorry.”

EOS adjusted her camera, probably to stall for time, “I know you are, John. I still forgive you, but am I correct in assuming I’m allowed some time to… recover isn’t the word I’m looking for, but--”

“Yes, EOS,” John helped her explain her own point, “Recover is a good word. You’re allowed that if you want it.”

John wasn’t sure how, but it seemed like EOS visibly relaxed, “Thank you, then, for letting me do that. This.”

For some reason, John did too, “Of course.”

It was a soft kind of awkward silence, where both parties had something on their mind but they weren’t entirely sure if they wanted to say it out loud. This is why EOS appreciated John more than the others, he simply let silence be silence. It allowed her time to think, unlike how Scott and Virgil kept asking questions, or how that awful duo made noises and messes only to have a chance at making people laugh. As if that was the most important thing they needed to do.

The nights the youngest called John were endless with his constant babbling that tended to grate her circuit boards. The only reason she let it happen was that John seemed to loosen up at the interaction. He became less weary, less worried-filled. He seemed to greatly enjoy the audial presence of Alan Tracy, let alone the way he lit up when the youngest actually showed up in person. It was just unfortunate that it seemed like the kid could never keep his mouth shut.

Then again… from what John said, the whole reason there wasn’t any more Alan was because he did keep it shut. At the worst moment possible. Now there wouldn’t be any more babbling period. Alan was gone, and the whole family was suffering from the new silence. EOS reasoned it was from the general idea of forced silence instead of just freely being able to leave the room or being able to tell him to quiet down, but maybe it was more than that. She could make another list of options to consider.

Plus, it was weird to think about a future where all of those video game walkthroughs she was forced to save would never be used again. John insisted that they weren’t just wastes of megabytes, so...

Hmm.

“Could you…” EOS trailed off, and before John could comprehend the unusual behavior of the A.I., she started speaking again, “Could you tell me more about Alan? I’m starting to think I judged him rather harshly.”

John took a moment to register her words and promptly snorted, “Well, most of your assumptions about him aren’t entirely unfounded, but that’s one of the joys of being an older sibling, I guess. Surprises around every corner,” there was regret in her voice and John knew he had to treat this as gently as he would a newborn child otherwise he would never hear it again.

EOS flickered, “I thought you didn’t like surprises.”

Uh, “Well, not usually, but there are a few from time to time that I could look back on and call them… quaint, in a sense.” Suddenly, a memory resurfaced, and John found himself grinning like he was doped up on nitrous oxide, “Yeah, they can have good surprises occasionally…”

It was a week before his next rotation. Scott would be back home in about three days, which allowed the second born to actually have a few moments with his only older brother. He was looking forward to it just as much as Scott was. Right now, though, he had to make sure he got the right angle.

Right as he did, he heard the soft pitter-patter of footsteps come up the ladder, and when he turned around, he was met with a bundle of freckles, “Oh, hey Alan.”

Hi, Johnny, the kid squirmed out, Is it okay if I sit next to you?

At first, a list of things wanted to fill John’s head. You look dead on your feet, you should be asleep, you have a lot going on this week so why are you wasting sleep? but instead of any of those filling the void that was his brain, John simply nodded, “Yeah, sure, come pop a squat, Sprout.”

John looked away right before he could watch Alan’s nose wrinkle in displeasure. Despite the usage of the nickname (that Alan secretly liked, don’t think you could pull that wool over our eyes, little bro), the kid still toddled over and flopped himself down right next to his older brother. Sighing, the kid leaned his head on John’s arm and absentmindedly stared out into space, both figuratively and literally. Satisfied his brother was comfy, John went back to his current objective.

As John examined the night sky, he also carefully looked over Alan out of the corner of his eye. Every bruise that John could see was finally dulling out into that familiar greyish-yellow as bruises do, and the sight was enough to calm any negative emotion being created from the reminder. John refocused on his telescope to help as well.

The kid had been through one hell of a week, bullies being their typical selves. Every Tracy outside of Scott and Gordon had their fair share of their own experiences with nasty people, and it wasn’t even the first time they’ve left their special kind of blue-and-black marks, but seeing it on Alan was… worse, somehow. Virgil had unsavory anonymous notes at ‘best’, and John knew first hand that their hits bruised more than just physical skin. So to see Alan get the same treatment and not say anything...

John was starting to understand why his older brother greyed so easily.

Speaking of which, Scott was pretty peeved at the idea of not being there for Alan. Because of this, John made sure to be the sole one to call him and inform him of the awful news while the older brother was out at his designated Air Force base. John wanted to see with his own two eyes that Scott wouldn’t do anything rash and made himself liable to be put on some kind of list.

You would think he wouldn’t be that stupid, but the Tracys are known for breaking expectations over their sweet, sweet kneecaps.

(“Scott, you’re not going to steal an Air Force jet just to come and beat up some dumb kids.”

“Watch me.”

“They’re only a year older than Alan.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose, “Listen, we already scarred them enough as it is, let alone their expulsions. Grandma’s threats to the adults were liable for a government-mandated therapist, Virgil just being there had them running for the hills, the computer I was sporting sent chills down their spines and throughout the hallways, and that’s not even to mention Gordon’s threats to the kids themselves. Seriously, where would a 15-year-old even get the tools to do that?”

Scott visibly relaxed at John’s point, but he still sat a little taut, not fully accepting the idea of people being cruel enough to hurt a literal ray of sunshine, “Fine, fine, I still want to talk to the kid over a call at some point. He was the one who dealt with those idiots.”

John’s shoulders deflated, “Yeah, you got me there. He’ll be back with Virgil and Gordon soon enough, you can see him then.”

Scott smiled in a way that washed away the greys in his hair, if only for a moment, “Awesome, I--”

John wasn’t completely done, “But I’m going to be with Alan while you talk to him. I don’t trust you to not be in search-and-destroy mode, and the last thing Alan needs is an angry you with no buffer. Besides, I’m pretty sure we have the same questions. I can play the angsty-Scott translator tonight. Usual fee, 10 bucks each word.”

The groan that managed to fill the whole house despite the tiny speakers was one John would never forget.)

Too lost in thought, John didn’t catch Alan’s movements at first. Leaning away from his telescope, John focused on Alan, “Sorry, Allie, did you say something?”

The child simply shrugged and smushed his chubby cheeks against John’s side, shaking his head, followed by his hands, I just wanted to see what you were doing.

Ah, that made sense. Alan had been continuously signing for the past year because of the obvious, so John rolled with the punches. It was always funny when they talked about these years in the future. Alan talked, Alan said, Alan brought up: it was always metaphorical, and nobody could believe them when they said Alan was fluent in ASL, let alone because he could actually go half a day without talking.

It was ironic because even with no words, Alan still managed to be the loudest thing on the planet. His hands always screamed with excitement whenever he felt like ‘talking’, and no brother ever felt like shutting him up. Especially when it was so easy for Alan to simply not shake his hands to hide the fact that he was in trouble--

Right, don’t go there. John shook his head to bring himself out of his thoughts and replied to the non-verbal admission, “Just looking at the stars. Recording their coordinates and whatnot.”

A small gasp had John jerking immediately away from his scope to see Alan suddenly very worried, maybe even fearful, But won’t you lose your eyes?!

Aha, what? “Allie, you’re going to have to give me more than that.”

John almost didn’t catch what Alan was trying to explain with the way he frantically shook his hands even faster than before, Mrs. Gatsen explained to us that the sun was a star too, but we’re not allowed to look at it for too long because it’ll steal our eyes! I don’t want you to lose your eyes, Johnny!

Ohoho, the part of John’s brain that was all about the smartsy stuff was gearing up to have a full-blown seminar of sorts, but the way the kid seemed so sincere in his worry, in his fear, John felt partially bad for giggling instead, “Oh, Allie, no. Here,” John was activating his inner Virgil and Scott with the way he grabbed the youngster and placed him in his lap, “Yes, the sun is a star, but there are many kinds of stars. Most of which don’t hurt your eyes. Take a look.”

Alan gave one last sentimental look at John, who nodded again just to reassure the blonde before the boy gulped and put his eye against the tool like Johnny did. This time, the gasp that came from him was more magical, more child-like, as it always should be. John watched on as the kid became stuck to his telescope like glue.

Suddenly, Alan leaned back into John, somewhat knocking the wind out of him. Honestly, now that he was thinking about it, John realized he was pushing it by letting Alan sit next to him in terms of his personal comfort zone. He loved Allie just as much as the rest of the family, but letting them in, letting them get close, was veering dangerously close to that specific ‘hug’ territory like he and his parents had.

Before John could explain that in a child-friendly way, and hopefully in a way where the too-smart-for-his-own-good kid couldn’t pick up on the hidden message, Alan looked him directly in the eyes and confidently signed his wants, Can we do this more often? Can we?

Just like that, John’s mind blanked. Alan wanted to do something with him. Not swim with Gordon, not music with Virgil, not do, well, anything with Scott, Allie found something that he would like to do with John.

Huh, interesting, “Yeah, sure. If we can’t do it in the next week, then the first thing we’ll do when I come down is stargaze, because that’s what it’s called: stargazing.”

Alan started gripping his arm tighter and leaned more into his chest, nodding vigorously at the news and looking back to the sky with newfound wonder. Letting Alan be, abruptly forgetting his grievances with things like touch, John went back to his telescope. After another minute or so, John reached a point where he needed both sides of his body, except it looked like one of them was going to be kept immobile unless the spaceman said something to Alan.

John tried doing just that, just without looking away from his device, “Hey, Allie, I don’t mind the sitting-in-my-lap and stuff, but I do need my arm back to--”

Snoring.

Oh.

Jerking his head to physically look at his sibling, John found Alan passed out and squeezing his arm like a freckled koala bear. The ginger flinched a little bit at the drool dripping onto his sleeve, but the way Allie melted into him made him-- actually, he was very suddenly aware that this whole night he hadn’t really been thinking at all, and that thought made him continue to stare mindlessly at the dozing brother.

He always thought about, well, everything. What he was going to say, what he planned to do tomorrow, about what the future held now that they were down their second and last parent. If he didn’t think about it beforehand, he rarely did it. He had to make sure he went through all of his options before haphazardly jumping into the pits of hell.

Yet the way his younger brother looked at him like he was the world himself tonight made John throw all of his training to be as cautious as possible out the window in a need to comfort and care for the small thing in front of him.

It was shocking to his mind, yet he didn’t resent just being able to do without worrying too much. Was this how smother complexes started? Did he ever drool on Scott’s arm? Still staring at Alan, John’s mind continued to be robotic as he simply let his younger brother be and went back to his telescope. Alan had been needing to get a little more sleep lately anyway.

Yeah, it was fine. He could figure out how to follow up on his words later. It wouldn’t be that hard to figure out a way to squeeze Alan into some of his already-planned stargazing nights while making sure the kid still got sleep. Also, John’s used telescopes wearing a cast and sling before, he might prefer two arms, but he has been okay with only one.

If Grandma yelled at John for spending too much time on the roof again, well, she would have to get over it. Alan got an extra hour of sleep and that was all that mattered.

EOS watched as John finished the story. Once he was done, he continued to be quiet while grinning at nothing. All he was doing was simply staring at the floor… It was slightly creepy, and EOS cleared her nonexistent throat, “Huh, I didn’t realize he got a lot of his interests from you. Maybe… maybe you could show me why he did. He can too. More perspectives always get more data.”

John blinked and was immediately taken out of his trance. He brought his hand to his mouth and cleared his throat, “Yeah, he-- wait, what?”

EOS sighed. This is another reason why she snapped him out of it; his inability to listen to someone right in front of him. She simplified her words, “If Alan comes back, can you two take me stargazing? I don’t think I’ve ever seen what the stars look like down there, or, at least, I never looked at them long enough to understand what you all find to be so fascinating about them.”

John blinked a few more times with his mouth slightly gaped. He looked around nervously before bringing his turquoise eyes to look EOS directly in the middle of her camera, “Yeah, sure, EOS. When Alan gets back, that’s the first thing we’ll do.”

EOS didn’t mention anything about the correction of if to when, “Thank you, John, I would like that very much.”

John nodded and floated back to his tech, “Of course. Now then, we’ve got work to do. I’ve been meaning to stargaze recently anyway.”

He still had one more day up here.

And a baby brother who needed saving.

How hard could it be?

---

Very.

Growling in frustration, he thumped his fist against the wall next to him rather harshly.

Not enough to leave any kind of mark or dent, but enough for him to focus on the tiny amount of pain it gave him. He vaguely heard EOS’s lens flare at the sudden noise, but he was a little too focused on why he felt the need to hit his girl.

It was the end of the last day, and he didn’t make it any further like he thought he would.

Some bleak part of his mind was hoped, prayed that his girl would have the tools to find their baby brother. He was willing to bend her entire satellite to be able to reach the far ends of the galaxy if he had to, but even he had to concede that she wasn’t enough. The Hood wasn’t dumb, unfortunately, and he wasn’t going to go easy on them. That is if he was even going “to go” on them to start with.

While it wasn’t the first time he failed spectacularly, this failure certainly hurt the worst.

Half of him wanted to curl up into a ball and forget everything for a moment (or maybe forever), but the other half won out in terms of what his body contorted into. Instead of curling up like a prickly hedgehog, he leaned backward to be floating with his back to the ground and his face to the ceiling with his face in his hands. Meanwhile, EOS silently gazed from her camera in the corner. Watching John struggle this way was… new, and it twisted her wires in a way she wasn’t sure she could describe.

EOS watched him mumble something. Huh, peculiar as ever. Adjusting her camera, she tried small talk, “What was that, John?”

Still mumbles, but more intelligible, “... I need to drop the ‘s’.”

A flicker of yellow, nothing but pure confusion for once in her robotic life, “The ‘s’ of what?”

Suddenly, the astronaut was standing (well, floating) upright with a look of disdain, but EOS could see that it wasn’t meant for her, “Of ‘she’. It’s not ‘Five’s fault, God, it never is, but maybe… maybe it’s mine.”

All of her programs should allow her to say something. Anything, sugarcoated or not, would be beneficial to this seemingly one-sided conversation, but this was the moment she learned that humans could be faster than computers since John steamrolled right to the point without hesitation, “He wasn’t good enough sounds better. Nothing I’m doing is getting any results. I gave my family false hope that I would find something and now I have to go to them and essentially break them. They were already barely holding it together as it was, but when the “smart one” in their family says there’s nothing he can do…”

She found herself going against the logical part of her program-- because despite the idiot John Tracy could be, when he made an argument that had any kind of evidence you never could go against it-- the first time in, well, ever, in an attempt to comfort her partner, “John… I think you’re grasping at straws here.”

He looked up from the floor, and EOS had to shrink her lens at the sight of unshed tears in his eyes, “Who was the one that called him?! Me! He was standing there only a few rooms over, probably terrified out of his mind, and I didn’t know. I let him slip between our fingers because I was so caught up in the moment and I hate myself for it.”

EOS found herself speechless for once, and the few droplets of tears that floated in front of John’s face didn’t help. She had been trying her best recently, especially recently, to understand the fluctuations of human emotion, and she was pretty sure she had decent tabs on at least John nowadays, but this was something unexpected, a thing her programming never really liked to deal with. It involved lots of new calculations and new sims, why, it made things seconds longer when they didn’t have the time to deal with it!

Her electronic voice box made a noise with the intent to say something, as she thought she finally had the time to deal with it, but just her luck, more unexpected things made her reapproach the issue at hand, “John, look out! The Chaos Crew!”

Blinking out of his self-deprecation train, John was uncharacteristically panicking, “What, where?” After doing a full 180, John eventually saw one of his comm radios with the familiar pink symbol floating above it.

John’s pupils shrunk and his eyebrows tilted downward in that unfamiliar emotion: anger.

Fuck this.

The mood change was as fast as the speed of lightning. John practically flung himself to the communication device on something akin to a warpath. No longer regretful or depressed, John was filled to the brim with fury at the sight of one of the men that was a constant thorn in the Tracy family’s side, “What the hell are you doing here? How the hell did you--”

“Wait wait wait!” Fuse pleaded, making John momentarily pause enough to listen, “I’m not good at this like my sister is, so this connection is going to drop soon. I need you to reopen the line yourself so I can explain what I’m here for! Trust me, I swear I’m not--”

Zip.

Blinking at the lack of noise, John slowly turned his head to look at his A.I. to get her opinion on the matter. It wasn’t a positive one, that’s for sure. Her dots were bright red, and for the first time in a while, he found himself flinching at the sight and sound of her, “It wouldn’t take much of me to get rid of the nuisance, you know.”

Taking a few deep breaths, John shook his head, “No, EOS, give me a sec. Don’t send him careening into space.”

Yet.

With shaky hands, John did as Fuse begged and found the comm line the guy haphazardly threw together. Right as Fuse jumped at the sight of one of the Tracys actually hearing him out, John’s voice spoke coldly, “You have five minutes. Go.”

Fuse gulped, “W-Well, I suppose the first thing to do would be to apologize. I’ve caused a lot of messes for you and your family-- heh, ‘messes’ probably doesn’t even come close to explaining what I did-- and I realize that now, so I want to--”

Ah, that tactic. The one where they try so desperately to seem like they were repentant. John wasn’t familiar with it, but Scott sure was. Shady business owners trying to shy away from their consequences made the eldest very aware of how slimy those in power could be. Scott complained about it a lot, so John made sure to always remember it just in case he ever ran into it himself.

Preplanning wins again in the Tracy household. You should listen to John’s advice more, Gordon, “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” John muttered mostly to himself and moved in a way that signified something was going to happen.

Fuse sputtered and stopped immediately. Crap, he was going about this wrong. These were all things he was suddenly genuine about, he really was, but the Tracys didn’t want useless apologies at the moment, and he understood that. Hopefully, he didn’t understand it too late. Right before John could do anything to him or give any kind of command to his satellite, Fuse blurted the information he should’ve said the first place, “I know where he is!”

John felt like the Earth flew right off its axis.

Everything froze, including EOS. His hand was out in front of him for some reason, probably subconsciously reaching for some kind of button, as he absentmindedly listened to the whirl of ‘Five and his brain fully processed what Fuse was promising, “... What?”

John was keenly aware that sounding so weak, so hopeful, was something that Fuse could spinelessly abuse if the man wanted to, but John had a good lie detector. The words that fumbled out of half The Chaos Crew’s mouth were sounding good, great, and John could tell that he wasn’t bullshitting anything, “I know where he’s keeping your bro. I mean… shit, what The Hood did wasn’t right, maybe it never was, but I know this specifically is--” a break in his speech in an attempt to words things better. Fuse failed, “Bad. I just…”

John’s head involuntarily tilted at the way Fuse trailed off. For once in his life, John was at a loss. This was highly uncharacteristic from what John had seen of The Chaos Crew, and the astronaut was so flabbergasted he couldn’t even begin to come up with any possible ulterior motive behind Fuse’s actions at the moment.

Suddenly, Fuse looked back up with big eyes, almost reminding John of Alan a little bit. Not in the obvious ways, because Fuse was on the verge of seven feet tall and built like a truck whereas Alan was the teeniest thing on the planet, but… John could see similar traits of innocence in them. The eyes of someone desperately clinging onto the last few shreds of hope they had, but still ready to do what's right because of it. Because even if the light at the end of the tunnel was small it was still worth fighting for.

Fuse, seeing that John wasn’t going to say anything, bit the bullet, “I don’t know, call it selfish, call it smart, but if The Hood is willing to do something like this to someone so young, I… I don’t want to be apart of it. I can’t give any information about my sister, I’m no snitch, but I want out, even if it means spending the rest of my days in a GDF cell.”

John was suddenly aware of a burning question, “Wait, how old are you, Fuse?”

A tired sigh, aging Fuse to something that was probably three times what he was going to say, “I turn 20 in two weeks.”

John sharply inhaled, “Jesus, I… I didn’t realize you were that young.”

A lot of things made sense quickly and abruptly like they always do for the ginger.

If The Hood was willing to do this to someone so young, that didn’t stop him from doing this to someone like Fuse. The logical conclusion the now ‘ex-villain’ made probably danced the wildest jig in his head, and before anyone could clap their hands, he got as far away as possible. John wouldn’t be surprised if The Hood made idle threats for not following orders or for “being stupid”, so Fuse had every right to feel threatened.

Jeez, he was probably terrified at the implication. A dark, buried part of John selfishly thought good, it sucks you had to learn the hard way, but now you see why we all hate him, but the first thing that came to his mind was something unexpected yet expected all the same.

John was reminded of Alan again.

Except Alan had four older brothers to run to when the monsters got too big or too frightening.

…

Scott was going to kill him, “Park her over on the left and come in. We’ve got a lot to talk about. Bring inside whatever you think will help.”

EOS’s shrill John! ringed throughout the room, yet it was overruled swiftly. Fuse’s mouth was wide open, “For real?”

John couldn’t tell if he was losing the knots in his stomach or forming completely new ones, “Yes. Don’t do anything funny, though. I have eyes everywhere.”

Fuse gulped again, yet he was very business-like with his next words, “Of course.”

The line cut a millisecond before John wanted it to. John knew exactly why, “Listen, EOS--”

EOS was suddenly in his face, and it spoke miles at how far she’s come that she wasn’t blaring any alarms in anger, “No, you listen, John Tracy. I cannot believe the level of ignorance you are displaying!”

Gordon always joked about her being his daughter, but right now, John’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance at the feeling of being scolded by an overbearing mother, “I get this may seem like I’ve lost it--” jokes on EOS, who says he hasn’t at this point? “Listen, there’s nothing else left to go off of, and I know this makes me look like a crazy man desperate for information that might not even be there, but--”

“No buts!” EOS shrieked, “You told me that if you followed a sentence with a “but” that what you were about to say shouldn’t even be considered an option! What is making you throw all of my training out the window?!”

John’s mouth became very dry. This conversation was taking a very different turn, “Wait, EOS, why is this all about you suddenly--”

John was starting to regret giving her more mobility at the sight of her jamming her camera directly in his face even more, “It’s not just about me! This affects you too! You said you always based your decisions on the here-and-now, so I should too, so why am I the only one doing so?! You’ve seen what he’s capable of!”

John’s mind tended to be made of gears, and all of them began spinning at the same time. Dammit, he didn’t pick up on this because he didn’t even consider it a factor: EOS being scared. Hell, it wasn't even considered because the last time he remembered her being this scared was when she thought he was a threat during the first time they met (was it really that long ago?). She was scared that Fuse was going to hurt John like he hurt the rest of the astronaut’s family. Like he hurt Gordon.

The only difference is that nobody could get to John like they did Gordon, so that left the ginger at an impasse if the small chance that Fuse was here to hurt him came true.

John found it very hard to breathe all of a sudden. Closing his eyes and struggling to get enough air in, he realized a fundamental problem. EOS was based on data and things that have been recorded, and so far, the only things recorded about Fuse was that he was hellbent on hurting the Tracy family, a family that John was apart of.

She didn’t know any other way to feel about the guy, she didn’t have any other example.

John would love to be that way too, honestly, to just focus on the data. Numbers never tended to be wrong, and the idea of being a simple number-crunching bot would make life a shit-ton easier, but he can’t. He’s human. One that’s very much willing to go against the numbers and probabilities if it meant helping his family.

A rarity for John, to follow his gut and nothing else, but at the end of the day, he was a Tracy, and following his gut was as familiar to him as it was to name all of the immediate constellations in the summer’s nighttime sky, “EOS, I know it’ll be hard to believe me, hell, I’m having trouble believing myself, but Fuse isn’t here to hurt me. The here-and-now is different for reasons I don’t have enough time to properly explain, okay? If there’s anything to believe, believe in the trust you have in me to make the right decision like I always do.”

EOS made no noise, not even a flicker of her lens. He expected her usual sass, something along the lines of, Who says I trust you, moron? but what he got punched away what little air he managed to collect, “... Do you promise?”

That was the million-dollar question. Of course, he couldn’t. He didn’t like making promises after the age of 12. Too many probabilities, too many what-ifs, made promises somewhat of a theoretical impossibility. But just like that night on the roof with Alan, John was able to not think, “I promise, EOS. You wanted to go stargazing with me and Alan, right? Fuse might be able to let us do that again.”

‘Family’ was a Wild Card. Nothing was possible, yet everything was at the same time when it came down to it. ‘Family’ was what made Scott go from day to day without keeling over. ‘Family’ was what got Virgil to sleep at night when he just couldn’t by himself. ‘Family’ was how Gordon managed to keep smiling and joking despite everything in the world trying to make him stop. Hell, ‘Family’ was how their father kicked the word impossible right in the groin and live.

‘Family’ might have been why Alan was stuck in such a shitty situation, but it was also the reason the kid was willing and able to go that far in the first place. He learned that selflessness from his ‘Family’, after all.

John was intent to use that fact to the fullest.

EOS’s lights blinked in contemplation before she quietly spoke once more, “Do I have permission to shock him if he makes even the slightest suspicious movement?”

John rolled his eyes yet grinned all the same, “Sure, only just a little voltage, though. Right in the ass. Would be a nice pick-me-up after all of this.”

Well, despite the year they’ve had, John wasn’t aware EOS could snort. Another sign things might be going right for once.

The door swwwshed open and Fuse floated into where the two hyper-intelligent beings were hanging about and got straight to the point, “Thank you. I hope… I hope I don’t let you down.”

John found himself light as air, and it wasn’t just the zero-gravity this time, “Sounds good. Let’s get cracking.”

While the first thing he did back on Earth was scare his father and his immediate younger brother shitless, the way they and the rest of the family lit up at the plan he and Fuse came up with (after making sure nobody killed the dude, which was surprisingly more difficult than expected, and boy was it expected) made it all worth it.

Well, maybe the sight of Fuse occasionally jumping and yelping at a strange pinch in his bottom with no known cause was worth it too. John wouldn’t tell his brothers that, though, he was the responsible one, remember?

You always made me look at things differently, EOS. Thank you.

#fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2020 #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #john tracy #alan tracy #eos #fuse thunderbirds #jeff tracy #my post #my fic #series: rules of alchemy

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crimsonrae · 4 years

Text

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Nine

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Warning: There is Smut in this Chapter!

Rating: Mature

Bathing Chambers and Horses

The Rose and Pine was in rare form as raucous travelers clambered about the tables eager to exchange news and gossip. Jaskier kept his ears peeled for anything noteworthy as he quietly searched the tavern. He had finished a set of bawdy limericks which were always a crowd pleaser and required little use of his lute, but now it was time for a break. Geralt had spent all of five minutes in the crowded tavern before murmuring something to Lyrra and slipping back out the door. Jaskier had barely held in a knowing scoff at his friend's departure, but now his eyes were scanning for the familiar blue-grey headscarf in the crowd.

He frowned when he didn't find her. While Lyrra wasn't always the easiest to pick out in a crowd, he had become familiar enough with the way she glided around people to be able to find her fairly quickly. A small tendril of unease rippled through his gut as he continued to eye the small dining area. Shades of the last time he hadn't been able to find her in a crowd pricked at his memory. A brief thought of checking the kitchen swooped through his thoughts as he approached the bar, but then he could always just ask the barkeep. Hillard already had a goblet of wine waiting for him when he sidled up to the edge of the bar.

He took it with an acknowledging nod, "My thanks."

Hillard flicked a knowing glance towards the bard. It had been two weeks since the minstrel had arrived in Glynedol and the barkeep didn't think a day had gone by when he hadn't followed his barmaid around like a shadow, "She's o'er at ta whore 'ouse."

Jaskier blinked at the abrupt remark, a multitude of questions poised on his tongue, "Did she tell you to tell me that?"

A sly smile pulled at the old barkeep's mouth; he was well aware of what Lyrra normally told the more lecherous men that came into the tavern. It would be a good joke to tell the bard the same to see if he would go, but in this case, it was true, "No, boy."

"Not a boy." Jaskier stated with a pointed finger, but nodded all the same, "Though again, my thanks."

He downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and Hillard shook his head amused as the bard made a speedy exit for Tyssa's brothel. It never occurred to the minstrel to ask if she had left in the company of another.

Feverish thoughts danced through the bard's head as he crossed the road. Images of Lyrra with one of the skimpily clad women he had witnessed inside was the one most hoped for and prominent, though he had the sneaking suspicion that the former princess was merely dropping off the town drunk again. Still, there was no point in bursting that particular bubble until he set his sights on her.

To his surprise, the town innkeeper stood outside the brothel like some sort of sentry when he arrived. He raised a brow at the portly man as he came to a stop, "I thought Madam Tyssa was the owner of this fine establishment."

"She is, Bard." Owain said quietly as he leaned bored against the doorjamb.

Jaskier forced a smile and nodded as if he knew what exactly was going on, "Right... If you don't mind just stepping to the side so that I may enter."

"Doesn't open for another hour." Owain murmured lowly and much to Jaskier's confusion.

It was well past dark and he had never once heard of a brothel having hours, "I'm sorry, but what? What do you mean it opens in an hour?"

"It opens in an hour." Owain stated again drolly, not budging an inch even as the door was suddenly yanked open.

The innkeeper nearly fell backward as Madam Hatchet's face scowled out into the road, "What's wit all ta noise?"

Jaskier nearly flinched under that woman's glower. She could make Geralt pause with a stare like that, he silently swore, "Your new guard man won't let me in."

Owain rolled his eyes and tipped his head back to meet Tyssa's questioning glance. It was all Jaskier needed to know that there were no hours for the brothel. Even still, he heard the older man grumble to Tyssa under his breath, "He travels wit the witcha."

For fuck's sake, Jaskier groaned quietly.

Tyssa rolled her eyes and murmured something about idiots as she nudged the innkeeper to the side, "He's here ta see his lady, Owain. Let 'im in."

Owain looked baffled as he glanced suspiciously at the bard, "I thought he liked Lyrra."

Jaskier couldn't keep his disbelief from his expression as he tried to find the right words to vent his indignancy on the man. What business was it of his whom he decided to spend his time? Nevermind, if he were here to find Lyrra or not. He didn't have to as Tyssa uttered a pained moan, "She's inside, ya pigheaded fool."

She fairly pushed the portly man away from her door and ushered the bard into her business with all the fuss of a mother hen. It was bewildering. Especially after the narrowed eyed suspicion that he had received the last time he had been in this woman's presence. Tyssa smiled almost fondly at him, an amused twinkle in her hard eyes as if she knew what he was thinking. And wasn't that just disconcerting?

He ignored the distant sounds of debauched fun petering down the hall and stairs to them as he frowned at the Madam, "Where -"

"Down ta stairs to ta left." Tyssa answered before he could finish his question. The knowing look in her eyes was much more devious than Hillard's had been and he suddenly wondered what he would be walking into as the brothel owner pulled open a door to a set of stairs leading down, " 'Bout time tha girl took to someone."

"Wha-" Jaskier began to ask as he stepped inside, but the stairwell door shut in his face, leaving him in a dimly lit corridor, "Rude... There's something wrong with the people in this town."

Thrown by the sudden lack of noise and the sudden oppressive feeling of heat, Jaskier cautiously continued down. He had heard of brothels that offered more specialized services for its clients. Where people would need a password to enter a section such as this – quiet, private, dark … unnecessarily creepy. Yet, he heard nothing as he reached the bottom. There was only a corridor with two doors. He turned to the left and pushed the door open and prayed that the brothel's madam hadn't just sent him into a dungeon.

What on earth could Lyrra possibly be doing down here?

He received his answer seconds later when he was met by the sight of a very naked Lyrra in a steaming pool. It took several minutes for him to process that the brothel had an underground bath as his gaze devoured the expanse of flesh bared to him as she stood from rinsing some sort of soap from her long hair. He breathed out, "By the Gods."

Lyrra's gaze snapped to the door at the low sound of his voice, "Jaskier!" Automatically, her arms crossed over her chest to cover herself from his gaze, a dark blush staining her skin, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you as it so happens." Jaskier murmured amused and feeling rather grateful to the old madam upstairs as he stepped closer to the pool, "Is this a hot spring?"

"Turn around! Better yet, get out!" Lyrra hissed ignoring his question as she glared darkly at him, "How did you even get down here?"

He smirked, but did as she bid and turned his back, "It seems Madam Hatchet has taken a liking to me. She also seems to think that we're more intimately acquainted than we are."

Lyrra uttered a small oath, making Jaskier snicker. Light splashes of water broke the atmosphere for a moment before she sighed, "Alright, you can turn back."

Jaskier turned to find that she had moved to the edge of the pool barely a foot from him. Her body now obscured by the water and sidewall but there was no getting the image of her splendid naked form from his head. He smiled roguishly at her scowl, "You know, you could have just said you were going for a bath here tonight. I wouldn't have bothered you."

Lyrra shot him a look of pure disbelief.

His smile widened, "No, you're probably right. I would have snuck down here far quicker."

"Was there something you needed?" Lyrra asked drolly an unwilling smile twitched at the corners of her lips, despite her annoyance.

"Just you." Jaskier replied quietly as he bent down on one knee before her, "I wasn't in the mood to carouse with the hoards tonight, thought you might want to turn in early. We've had a long few days."

"Mmm." Lyrra agreed thoughtfully, her gaze softening as she raised a brow, "True. I'm surprised you don't want a break from me. All three of us have been in each other's pockets lately."

Jaskier merely shrugged, "I like being around you."

She stared at him a moment and he could see uncertainty lurking in her grey orbs. What she was uncertain about he wasn't sure, but Jaskier wasn't about to question it when she nodded behind her and quietly requested, "Join me."

He bit his lip as he considered her, despite his teasing he had no desire to force her into anything, "You sure? I can wait upstairs, Lyrra."

"I like being around you too." Lyrra answered softly, "Besides when's the last time you bathed in something other than the cold stream by my cottage?"

"My first night here." Jaskier murmured under his breath as he let his doublet slip to the ground. To his amusement, Lyrra turned to give him privacy as he continued to disrobe as if she wouldn't see all when he joined her in the pool. He had long gotten over any discomfort at being seen naked. Being forced to endure the trauma of the shared bathing chambers with fifty other boys while going through his formative years at Oxenfurt had effectively curbed any sense of modesty he may have possessed.

Soon enough his trousers and small clothes joined the rest of the pile on the ground and Jaskier slid gingerly into the pool. He was pleasantly surprised by how deep the watery pit went as the hot water just reached above his waist. A wooden platform had been anchored to the side walls about four feet down for people to stand on, but he could tell the well went deeper. So, it was a hot spring. Interesting.

He glanced over to see Lyrra still had her back to him, but her posture had become tense. Tense, in the way he recognized from those horrid exercises they did with her back. He stifled a sigh and wondered if he had made a mistake, "Lyrra, turn around."

She hesitated for a minute, peeking shyly over her shoulder at him. He smiled in gentle amusement at her and reached out a hand, "Come here."

Slowly, she linked her fingers with his and lets him tug her into his arms. It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep his eyes on her face and not sneak another peek. Gods, he hoped that she knew how much she tested his resolve. He raised a hand to caress her cheek as he lowly uttered, "We go at your pace, not mine." He brushed a light kiss where his hand had been, "I also don't care if you look. I encourage it even. Now, where are the soaps hidden?"

He felt more than saw the tension leave her as she smiled a little ruefully at him, "How do you do that?"

Jaskier raised a brow at her, "Do what?"

"Know what's bothering me without me saying anything." Lyrra answered as she pulled away. He watched as she moved to the opposite end of the pool where he now saw a slew of bottles. She chose a few and a rag.

Quietly, he moved beside her, "You're not that hard to read. What's that?"

He pointed to the bottle she was shaking, "Softens the hair. Dunk yourself. There's a ledge to sit on over there."

"Going to bathe me?" Jaskier asked mildly amused and more than a little excited at the prospect. A state that wasn't helped as she peered up at him through her lashes. Gods, she was a minx.

"Maybe." Lyrra murmured softly as she nudged him towards the ledge.

He smirked and quickly dipped himself below the surface to wet his hair before following her instruction. He had said they would go at her pace and he was presently very curious to see what that pace was exactly. He slipped onto the ledge and promptly found himself white-knuckling the stone next to his thighs. Lyrra had gotten over her own spell of modesty rather quickly it seemed as she no longer angled herself in just a way to hide her attributes. And what lovely attributes they were... He greedily took in the swell of her breasts and the dusty pink of her nipples that glistened and beckoned from the water to be touched. Arousal slammed through his blood at full force. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He didn't know if he could do this, definitely couldn't hide it.

Jaskier swallowed tightly as she approached and silently coaxed him to lean down. Seconds later her fingers were running through his hair and he had closed his eyes to focus only on that sensation. It had been a long time since someone had bathed him. He didn't remember the practice feeling quite this good. He leaned into her touch as she began to massage the soapy solution through his locks and fairly hummed in contentment as a light honey smell permeated the air.

Lyrra giggled but didn't stop. Suddenly she asked, "Jaskier, are you sitting on your hands?"

"Yes." He mumbled and cautiously looked up at her through one eye as he tried not to let the soap slide in, "You have absolutely no idea how enticing you are."

She had a pretty good idea, judging by the state of his cock. She shook her head at him and wiped a trail of suds from his face, "Why torment yourself like this then?"

He grinned at her, "It's such a delicious torment though and would I to die right now, I'd die fairly happy."

"Dunk." She ordered lightly humor coloring her tone as she stepped back.

When he reclaimed his spot on the ledge, she had a lathered rag ready. To his surprise, she didn't return to her ministrations right away. Lyrra set the rag to the side and stepped into his space. An almost bashful grimace lightened her visage, though he could still very much see her amusement with him. Her slender hands framed his face and he unconsciously leaned towards her as she claimed a kiss. Again, he white-knuckled the stone beneath him, but even as she stoked the fires of his lust, a nervous tendril that curled in his veins began to settle. Kissing had become familiar between the two of them. He hardly missed an opportunity the past week to taste her lips, more than content with the simple show of affection.

A dull whine of protest escaped him when she finally pulled away and Lyrra smirked at him, "Minx."

Her grey eyes danced mischievously and for a moment he likened her to a water nymph, "A reward for being good."

"Oh? And what other rewards do you have planned?" Jaskier questioned teasingly as she took up the rag and began to gently scrub the skin of his throat, "I can be very, very good, Lyrra."

"I know you can be good. It's why I put up with you." Lyrra murmured as she moved the cloth over his shoulders and chest, "Well that and you always seem to be around now."

He snorted, "Are you saying my proximity is the only reason you allow me favor?"

A smile tugged at her lips and she shook her head, "No, I allow you favor because you're good. You surprise me."

"How so?"

She sighed and gently splashed water where she had washed, "You know I find you attractive, but you don't push me for more than what I've already given. You could have had me a week ago at the inn, but you didn't. You leave a flower on the woodpile for me after Geralt pushes me through one of his exercises." He stilled fractionally and she caught his stare, "Didn't think I noticed?"

He shrugged awkwardly, "You never come inside with them."

She smiled, "Look at the cottage side when we go back. They've been tied and hanged to dry. The smell from the petals will last longer that way."

A strange contented warmth filled Jaskier at the knowledge that she was preserving his little gifts. He had started it as an act of comfort. The only way he knew how to fix some of her distress after those damnable sessions, but he hadn't been sure it had even been noticed. She bade him stand and turn as he puzzled over this revelation.

The rough cloth continued on its path across the tops of his shoulders and gradually continued down. Soapy suds slickened his skin, but it wasn't until she reached between his shoulder blades that he was introduced to a new sensation. Her fingers replaced the cloth and she drew light lines into his flesh. Familiar lines... Jaskier grimaced as he remembered the scars, he bore there. It had been a while since anyone had paid attention to those marks, "They don't hurt."

A displeased hum emitted from his enchantress at his words and he risked a glance back to see her glaring darkly at his rented flesh, "You were caned."

He blinked surprised that she recognized the punishment he'd received from just the scars, "Bit of a precocious pupil and the Headmaster had his lessons to impart. It was a long time ago, Lyrra. I promise it doesn't hurt."

Her glare shifted from his back to meet his face, "You were a child."

He was struck by the distress in her eyes as if the caning had taken place hours ago as opposed to years. He loved her at that moment, "Hey, I'm okay. Right as rain, yeah?"

Her hand lingered over his scars and Lyrra shook her head as if to clear away a dark fog, "Sorry... I don't like the idea of you hurt."

"Well, that's something." Jaskier murmured teasingly as he turned his attention back around, "Won't have to worry about you coming at me with a cane then."

The cloth resumed its path, "That's not funny."

"No, I suppose not." He uttered quietly as he sunk into her touch and pushed away from the pained memories of those punishments. She shocked him again when the rag was placed next to him and her hands gripped his hips. Light open-mouthed kisses were pressed into his mutilated skin making small shocks of flame burn across his back and to his extremities.

Gods be damned for this exquisite torture.

He gasped as she pressed fully against him. Her soft breasts molded to his form and her hands trailed a path to his racing heart as she continued to lavish attention to his healed wounds. His hand covered hers as her tongue caressed the underside of his shoulder blade, pulling a muffled moan from his lips. Who knew that such attention could be so overwhelmingly erotic? He was going to cum without her ever touching him where he needed it most.

As if she could read his mind, her other hand slipped down and drew a line over his cock. His hips jerked in reflex as another groan spilled from him. All pretense of a bath was gone now, he clutched at the lip of the pool, "Lyrrana fuck... tell me, luv."

"Shhh..." She breathed out as her touch became more bold, "Let me take care of you."

He wasn't about to stop her. She nipped gently at the nape of his neck just as she tugged upon him and he was sure he was going to die. There was just too much and not enough all at once. Her mouth seemed to be everywhere as her fingers teased and caressed. The rhythm of her strokes was frustrating as it was enticing. His hips bucked unconsciously into her hand for more. Already he could feel the tight coil in his loins, he was so close.

"Lyrrana..." He desperately pleaded.

Her hand tightened around his cock almost painfully, but then she slid down the length of him and pressed the heel of her hand to massage into his balls. He cried out seconds later as the coil was released and he came hard.

Fuck... Just fuck...

He had never – never cum like that from a handjob. His breath was ragged as he came back to his senses and his legs actually felt fucking shaky. Without much thought beyond need, he whipped around startling Lyrra as he yanked her into him. His mouth covered hers before she could form a protest. He needed to touch her, to see her, to hear her.

His, a voice growled possessively in the back of his mind. A voice he had long learned to ignore, but at that moment was more inclined to agree with – she was his for however long she would have him.

He trailed biting kisses down her jaw to her throat, intent on leaving his mark on her. Her moan was music to his ears as he played his own tender ministrations to her supple body.

"Jas...Jaskier." She gasped out laughingly as she tried to gain his attention. He hummed in acknowledgment but didn't stop his lavish kiss to her throat, "You know you don't need to return the favor."

He pulled back affronted as he stared down at her. Did she really think that he was truly the type of man who didn't enjoy giving pleasure as much as taking it?

Lyrra's eyes widened as she seemed to realize how he had taken that comment. Quiet laughter fell from her lips at his outrage as she sought to soothe his bruised ego, "You can if you want-"

"I want. I more than want. I demand, woman." Jaskier rasped firmly, still annoyed that this had even been questioned.

Brimming with amusement, Lyrra cupped his face in her hands, "Jaskier, I only meant, that I wanted to bring you pleasure, I wasn't expecting anything in return. You've given me so much else."

He still wasn't happy with that response as he pressed a bruising kiss to her lips, "And I don't expect such pleasure as payment, Lyrra. I like you...a lot in case you haven't noticed. Returning the favor as you call it, isn't a favor. It's a damn gift."

She stared at him stunned and he wanted to shake her. This shouldn't be a bloody surprise. A frustrated huff left him as he caged her against the side of the pool, "Lyrra, please by the Gods, tell me that your lovers have not all been so egregiously selfish."

He knows there have to be others. The way she had seduced him at the inn, and the way she brought him to completion a few minutes ago spoke to less traumatic sexual experiences.

Her mouth moved silently for a moment before she shrugged, "I've only ever had two."

Jaskier stared at her for a moment, "Tell me that one of those was not... that you're not counting him." He spat the last word distressed and she looked away from him. He knew exactly what that meant. They hadn't talked about him, the man who had abused her. He had been too afraid of opening more old wounds and she seemed more than content to let them rest, but this he would not abide, "He cannot be classified anywhere in the same vicinity as a lover, Lyrra. Not someone like that. And this other idiot you bedded?"

Lyrra sighed a faint frown twisting at her lips, "I was more comfortable giving than receiving."

That was a little more understandable to Jaskier, if still unconscionable, "I have half a mind to rent one of these rooms from Madam Hatchet and lock us both in until you know what it's like to have every kind of carnal pleasure drawn from your bones." Her eyes snapped to his in keen interest and amused protest, "You have a great deal to discover and I'm going to thoroughly enjoy showing you."

"Jaskier." Lyrra huffed lowly with a shake of her head.

He smiled darkly at her disbelief and snaked a hand between them to slip a finger along her most intimate part. She gasped at the sudden contact and he was pleased to find a slickness that betrayed her arousal. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this. He didn't give her much time to process as he stole another kiss before he gripped her hips and hefted her out of the pool.

"Jaskier!" Lyrra protested when he pulled her legs open to bare her fully to his sight and refused to let her shut them again.

It was a terribly vulnerable position, he knew, but it was also kind of the point. He gazed up at her, eyes almost black with desire, "Trust me?"

A shuddering breath stole through her under that look as she hesitantly nodded.

"Good." He purred as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee and drew her leg over his shoulder, "Lean back and relax, Lyrrana... If you want me to stop." He grinned roguishly, "Just pull my hair."

She snorted quietly, "What beast have I awoken?"

"An insatiable one." Jaskier answered as he nipped and licked his way up her thighs. So close to where he wanted to taste, but still so far.

He skillfully teased and caressed every inch before him as he listened to the harmony of her ragged breathes and muffled moans until she was a withering mess. And then he was there. Nuzzling the soft thatch of curls that marked her womanhood as she squirmed in his grasp. To get closer or away he wasn't sure, but he firmed his arm over her hips to keep her still as his hot tongue ran the length of her slit. The faint cry that echoed through the chamber was pure bliss.

He smiled and licked up the juices she was creating and nearly moaned at the taste. Better than any wine. A growl rumbled through his throat and he pushed her legs wider as he searched for the nub that would have her keening. He found it as his teeth grazed over the tender flesh and she jerked violently in his grasp. Jaskier gazed fastened to her face to make sure she was alright but found the most sinfully beautiful sight on the Continent.

Lyrra's head had tipped back, her eyes half-closed in a pleasured torment were framed by the peaks of her breasts as her chest heaved. She was magnificent. His tongue swirled a circle around her clit and she cried out and tried to squirm away. He kept her still as he continued his slow torture, adding a finger, then two, then three as he stretched her entrance.

Sweat now dampened her body as much as steam. She cried out again, "Julian, please!"

He jerked in surprise to hear his given name, but strangely he liked it. He liked it a lot. He crooked a finger inside her and dragged it across the top of her wonderful chasm as he sucked hard on her nub. The result was spectacular as Lyrra cried out once more and her walls spasmed tightly around his still thrusting fingers. Slick coated his hand as he lathed up the mess he had made.

Lyrra had had enough, however as her fingers entwined in his wet locks and she gave an urgent tug. Jaskier froze and turned a questioning glance on her. Wondering if he had inadvertently hurt her or crossed an unspoken line without realizing. She tightened her grip and rasped, "Get up here."

That was a demand he would gladly follow. In a flash, he was out of the pool and hovering over her as their lips met again. Her legs wrapped snuggly around his waist and it was all the encouragement that he needed as he thrust into her. Groans were pulled from both of them and Jaskier swore he blacked out. Gods, he had never been clutched so perfectly, hadn't known it was possible to feel like this. He had been joking when he had called himself insatiable, but he honestly didn't know if he could stop touching her now.

He couldn't help but chuckle as Lyrrana managed to reverse their positions and pinned his hands by his head. She looked as needy as he felt, "What?"

He grinned at her, "If this is what it is to worship at your alter... then I'd be a very religious man indeed."

"You're ridiculous. I'm hardly someone to be worshipped and this is nowhere near close to a church." A shaky laugh tumbled from her throat as she leaned over him. Her hair created a veil around them as she claimed a kiss that was tentative and soft as she began to ride him.

He was absolutely enraptured, "Oh, but you are. You are my goddess. My angel. My muse."

"Jaskier -"

"Julian." He murmured, desperate to hear his given name on her lips again, "Use my name."

Lyrra smiled gently at him, "Julian, shut up and move."

He heartily obliged.

They moved together searching for that crescendo. Their bodies entwined so completely that he was no longer sure where he ended and she began. Then he felt her tremble. It was his only warning before she shattered completely and utterly around him. He was overwhelmed and overcome as he cried out a second later and followed after her.

He felt like he was floating as he basked in the afterglow.

Lyrra had collapsed bonelessly against him and he barely heard her murmur, "It's never been like that before."

It's a statement he can wholly agree with, never had a coupling felt that intense. Suddenly, he felt her shaking again and for a horrible moment, he was sure that she was crying, "Lyrra?"

Only she wasn't, she was laughing as she met his worried gaze, "Well, I think we can safely say you cannot be friends with a woman or at the very least with me."

Jaskier snorted as he recalled that particular conversation, "I much prefer this anyway... We should talk about this."

A sigh left her as she rested her chin on his chest, "We should."

There's a reluctance in her gaze that he was slow to understand. He didn't get a chance to ask as a loud pounding resounded on the door to the chamber, "If youse finished in there, there are otters who be needing ta space."

A red flush suddenly coated Lyrra's cheeks and Jaskier couldn't help but laugh at her mortified expression, "Just a few minutes. We'll be out."

"Do you think she heard all of that?" Lyrra whispered as she rolled off him.

"Probably." He felt bereft at the loss of contact but merely sighed as he followed her back into the pool.

They cleaned themselves quickly, mostly because Lyrra refused to let him within touching distance until they're out of the water again. He didn't take it personally. He knew they would spend another hour in that pool if she would let him.

It isn't until they were dressing that Jaskier felt his good mood slip. He had just pulled on his breeches when he looked over to see Lyrra wringing out her hair. Her back was to him and it was the first time he had seen it bare. He approached her without thought to what he was doing until he was tracing the puckered red flesh that lied in almost the same place as his caning scars. Hers was not a caning scar...it was a damn brand. He was unsurprised when Lyrra automatically jerked from his touch.

Her eyes were wide as she turned to him, "Jaskier."

A cold pit opened in his stomach as he stared at her in horror. A quiet seething rage had begun to build and it terrified him, "Who did this? Tell me his name."

Lyrra sighed tiredly and pulled her dress the rest of the way up, hiding her scar from view, "It doesn't matter now. We need to go."

"Doesn't matter?" He questioned in disbelief, "Doesn't matter? There's a bloody brand on your back."

"I know." Lyrra snapped as she glared up at him. She drew a calming breath and slowly leaned against him, "Not here, Jaskier, please. It's not going away whether I tell you about it or not. Please let's just go. We were both so happy a moment ago."

He didn't move as he tried to gain control of his anger. He had known – had known she had been hurt, had been tormented, but it hadn't truly registered until he saw that fucking burn. He felt sick. Who the fuck branded someone? She seemed to sense his struggle as she leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, "Please."

There was another kiss and another and before he realized it, he had slipped his hands around her waist and pressed his head to hers, "Alright... alright. But we will have this discussion, Lyrra."

Her lips tightened into a thin line, but she didn't argue. He let her lead him from the bathing chamber and didn't comment on her blush as they passed a very smug-looking brothel owner. They reached the top of the stairs when an unexpected sight caught their attention. Both of them raised their brows in curiosity.

Geralt had stepped out of a room down the hall and was adjusting his shirt when he caught sight of them in turn. Behind him stood a very sated looking woman in a dressing gown which left no allusions as to what he had been up to.

There was a moment of awkward silence and Jaskier was pleasantly surprised when it wasn't him that broke it with a crass comment, but Lyrra, "So, this is what checking on your horse means."

He choked on a laugh as Geralt glowered at them, "I see you got the love bite this time."

Lyrra flushed deeper and Jaskier couldn't stop the wolfish smirk that tugged at his lips. In silent agreement, the trio decided not to say anything further as they exited the brothel and headed for Lyrra's cottage.

Jaskier made it a good five minutes before he asked, "So, how is Roach?"

Geralt didn't even look at him, "Jaskier, shut up."

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#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #jaskier #jaskier fanfiction #jaskier x oc #Geralt #yennefer #fanfic #fanfiction

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psychobhyun · 6 years

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E R O T I C T H O U G H T S

Foreword: Joining a book club may seem boring. But you’re not really bored when there’s an eye candy named Park Chanyeol to look at every afternoon. Who knows what your relationship would grow into?

Warnings: university!au, size kink, phone sex, daddy kink, squirting, degradation, semi-public sex, breathplay, spitting

Genre: fluff, smut

On the first day of university, your eyes were fixated on a certain person standing all the way on the other side of the room. He was towering above everyone else, which is an interesting sight to see. He also had ruffled silver hair and a black hoodie on with a random band name written on the front.

“He’s cute, you should talk to him,” your friend said with a playful nudge to your shoulder. You smirked at her. “When the time comes,” you replied. As much as you needed to pay attention to the first-day speech, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the tall guy. “When the time comes, you’ll be coming too,” she joked.

You let out a heartful laugh that was loud enough to turn heads. Apparently loud enough to make the guy you’ve been eyeing on to look back at you. You jumped in your position and avoided his eyes, feeling so embarrassed your cheeks grew hot. “He’s laughing at you, idiot,” your friend pointed out.

“Fuck, you serious?” you said with a nervous chuckle. Hiding your eyes behind your hand, you look at the silver-haired guy. The tiny eye contact you made with him caused you to squeak. You rolled your eyes when your friend poked you, telling you how adorable you looked all shy like this.

After the speech ended, you made your way out of the big conference room. Since it was a tight squeeze, you couldn’t really see who was pushing you in every direction. God dammit these people, you thought. Being your height, you were barely noticeable in any crowd. Halfway through the entrance, you lost your friend.

“She’s there,” a deep voice said from beside you. When you turned your head to the source, you realized it was the guy you have a tiny crush on. He must be a giant. You had to look up at him. You were barely the same height as his shoulder? If you looked straight ahead, you were as tall as his chest.

“Y-yeah, thanks,” you mumbled quietly. Where the fuck did your voice go? This guy has done the bare minimum but he’s already messing your train of thought already. “See you around, cutie,” the stranger said to you one more time. You tripped over someone else’s shoe after he called you cutie.

Two months went by quite fast. You had a few more friends, you enjoyed your classes, and the lecturers were mostly nice (Maybe because it was only the first semester. They’d reveal their true colors soon enough). The only thing you haven’t done yet is joining a club.

Your best friend joined a swimming club and as much as you loved being wet (get it?), you sucked at swimming. There is one activity you very much enjoy though. And it was reading. So you thought it was fitting to join a book club. There, you could share what you read or discuss a book with the other members.

It’ll be fun. Totally fun.

And it was. The first thing you saw when you stepped in the room was the silver-haired guy. But his hair wasn’t silver anymore. It was red now. You didn’t even realize he was waving at you, patting the seat beside him. He seemed giddy to see you. You couldn’t hide the smile on your face.

“Park Chanyeol,” he said as he offered you his hand. You took it and winced when you realized it was humid. “S-sorry, I’m nervous around cute girls.” You rolled your eyes and inhaled nervously. You introduced yourself and looked away because you were feeling shy yourself. You sat on the empty seat he gave you and focused on the person talking in the circle in front of you.

The guy introduced himself as Kim Junmyeon, the one that started the club. He was two years ahead of you. He continues telling the new members how the club came to be, which bored the hell out of you. You glance at Chanyeol and saw him typing something on his phone.

What do I need to do to get your number, cutie it said. You held in a tiny giggle and take Chanyeol’s phone out of his hands. Tell the Junmyeon guy you need to fart outside, you typed underneath his message. He shot you a dirty look and stand up, doing exactly what you told him to do.

You bite your lip as Chanyeol bows down and excused himself to fart outside to Junmyeon. You laugh at the way he runs outside. His flaming red hair bobs up and down as he scurried away. Reminds you of flaming hot Cheetos. You shake your head in disbelief when he sits down beside you again, a dumb look plastered on his face.

He unlocks his phone and hands you the device. You typed your number in his contacts list and wrote it as ‘cutie’ with a heart emoji beside it. You winked at him cheekily as you give him his phone back. You can see him doing a fist pump when you really gave him your phone number.

A couple of weeks later, you grew closer to Chanyeol. You texted with him almost every night and seeing the good night and good morning messages from him always warmed you up. It never fails to bring a smile to your face and you never forget to tell Chanyeol about it.

However, not all of your texts with him are innocent. Sometimes he’d ask you what you’re wearing. Then he got bolder. He asked you if you’d ever let him kiss you, even though he knew the answer. A million times yes. The only time it got a bit more intimate was when you sent him a pic of your outfit before you went clubbing with your friends.

Chanyeol hated the fact that he couldn’t protect you. He didn’t want anyone else’s hands touching you, cause he’d punch whoever tried to. But he couldn’t do anything about it. And it frustrated him a lot.

You surprised him when you sent him a racy pic of yourself in the club’s toilet. You flaunted your obvious cleavage, bending over a bit to tease him. It sent blood straight to his dick. He palmed his growing bulge through his sweatpants and imagined his hands were yours instead.

You called him later that night, still drunk, but sober enough to realize all the naughty stuff you’re saying to him. “I’m so wet right now,” you say with a deep sigh. You rubbed your clit slowly, enjoying the light touches of your hand. “You are? Who made you wet, cutie?”

You gasped when you dipped a single finger into your pussy, your wetness immediately coating it. “You, Daddy,” you replied. Chanyeol tried not to react to what you called him. But it sent his ego through the roof. “But Daddy didn’t do anything, baby? How are you wet?”

You whined as you started to finger fuck yourself. “I grinded against a guy and imagined it was you, Daddy. I thought about taking your cock in front of everyone in the club,” you managed to say even though you were breathless. You put the phone on loudspeaker and played with your nipples, twisting and pulling with two of your fingers still deep inside you.

“You want me to fuck you in public, baby?” Chanyeol rasps to the phone. “But you’re mine. I don’t like sharing what I own.” You moaned when Chanyeol said you were his. You loved the feeling of being owned by someone. It made your pussy clench in excitement.

“Are you going to come, baby?” Chanyeol asks when he hears your moans getting higher in pitch. “Y-yeah, Daddy,” You purposely push your fingers against your g-spot while you rub your clit, trying to reach a euphoric orgasm with Chanyeol at the end of the line.

“Come for Daddy, baby. You make me so proud,” Chanyeol says in his deep voice, encouraging an even harder orgasm for you. You loved the sound of his familiar voice. “Daddy!” You came with a scream, still rubbing circles on your clit as you squirt all over your mattress.

“Let’s discuss the poet I assigned everyone to read,” Junmyeon says, standing in the middle of the circle again. He picked the person next to you to start, going anti-clockwise. Which means you’re going to be the last person to talk about your poem. And you chose one that was far from innocent.

As the others talked about the poems they’ve read, your eyes focused on Chanyeol. He was wearing a fitted black shirt. It made his muscles much more prominent than his usual outfit would. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, supporting his chin with his right hand as the other held his other thigh. He looks back at you, licking his lips slowly as you crossed your legs. Your skirt lifts up a bit, revealing more than what is decent skin.

When it was Chanyeol’s turn, he stood up and cleared his throat. He looked at you for a bit, a teasing sparkle evident on his pupils. “The title of the poem I have chosen is Open Invitation,” he starts. “I’ll read it now, okay?”

You have such a pretty mouth.

To feed it only with kisses

would be a wasted opportunity

Your jaw dropped. The whole time Chanyeol read his short poem, he was gazing deeply into your eyes. You didn’t even blink as he said each word. You were awestruck not only by the poem of his choice but also by the sincerity lingering in his voice. The depth of what the poem meant to him..... it made you quiver.

“Any particular reason why you wanted to choose that one, Chanyeol?” Junmyeon asked with a slight blush on his cheeks. It made you giggle how easily affected Junmyeon is. You put your focus on Chanyeol back, waiting for his answer. “The piece had no bullshit. It was straightforward, like me. When I know what I want, I work hard until I get it.”

You quirk an eyebrow at Chanyeol’s reply to Junmyeon. He looked flustered, so he moved on to the next person as fast as he could. The time passes by quickly and it was your turn. You gulped as you prepared yourself. Yours was longer than Chanyeol, but it was not less erotic. In fact, it was the exact opposite.

“Last but certainly not least,” Junmyeon says as his eyes lands on you. You shoot him a small smile and stand up, fixing the skirt that was only covering half of your thighs. Chanyeol squints at the thought of fucking you half-dressed. You give a lot for him to imagine, yet so little at the same time.

“The title of the poem I have chosen is Bitter Sweet Love.” You notice the slight change in Chanyeol’s posture. It was a bit tenser than before. Maybe it’s because he knew what the poem was about. Which makes it easier for you to tease him. Use your voice and Chanyeol’s hard exterior would crack. It excited you. You wanted to see what Chanyeol would look like if he’s the one begging to touch you.

To slap you, is to touch you.

Scream for mercy. Beg for more.

To bite you, is to kiss you.

Tied and tethered, on the floor.

To loath you, is to love you.

Pretty princess. Dirty whore.

It was Junmyeon’s jaw’s turn to drop. You were known in the club for being an innocent angel. But Chanyeol knew you were far from that ever since you called him Daddy over the phone call a few nights ago. You bit the inside of your cheeks, scared yet anticipating the reaction from the others. Especially Chanyeol, your true target.

“Any particular reason you wanted to-,” Junmyeon says but you immediately cut him off. You couldn’t handle it anymore. “I loved the sensuality of the poem. Like night and day, sex can be both dangerous, filled with primal desire, but sex can also be an intimate and full of warmth.”

You were about to open your mouth to continue but Junmyeon took a glance at his watch and decided to dismiss today’s club a bit earlier. You huffed an annoyed sigh. You wanted to drive Chanyeol to the point of insanity. The intense sexual tension between the two of you was messing up your clear thoughts.

“Make sure to lock the room,” Junmyeon says as he hands you the keys. Like he knows what’s about to happen once everyone leaves and the only people left are you and Chanyeol. The keychain’s chimes echoes in the now empty room. Chanyeol was still sitting on his chair and hasn’t moved an inch.

“Chanyeol? Are you planning to stay the night?” You joked, sitting beside him. He ignores you. “Daddy?” You say this time. Chanyeol’s breath hitches. “Did you like the poem I read today?” Chanyeol side looks you. He balls his hands into fists. His self-control is close to nothing.

“I read it and thought of you, Daddy.” Chanyeol fixes his eyes on you. He puts his thumb on your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting it snap back into its original place. You take it inside your mouth, sucking on it as if it was his cock. Chanyeol doesn’t break his gaze on you the whole time you do it.

“Fuck me on this table, Daddy,” you said in a high-pitched voice, emphasizing the word Daddy. Chanyeol groans. He holds you by the throat and pushes all his belongings that were on the table. It falls down and makes loud noises, but the two of you could care less. You wanted him inside you and he wanted to be inside you.

“Good girls beg to be fucked, dirty whore,” he barks. He presses on your throat a bit harder and your hands out of instinct held his arm. You could feel the protruding veins on his skin. Using his other hand, Chanyeol rips open the buttons on your shirt. He puts his unoccupied hand on your breast as soon as it was on display.

“What were you thinking, slut? Did you get off thinking about Daddy fucking you tied up? Fucking that useless pussy of yours until you beg for mercy because of overstimulation? That’s what you want, isn’t? Pathetic slut. I am disappointed, you know? You talked about your lewd thoughts in front of everyone.”

You gasp and whine as you listened to all the nasty names Chanyeol calls you. He lets go of your neck and pushes your skirt up, hands already hitting your ass twice. “I wish you could see how red your ass is already, baby.” You whimpered when he hit you directly on your pussy. It made your clit pulse with need.

“Wet already? You’re shameless.” Chanyeol unzips his jeans and pulls it all the way down, getting rid of his shirt as well. He bends you over the table and pulls apart your ass cheeks, spitting directly on your pussy and using his hand to spread it around. “No need for foreplay, baby. I’ll fuck you with your own wetness and my spit.”

You screamed when the delicious burn from Chanyeol’s cock stretching you open. He pistons his cock in and out of you at a fast pace, making your tits bounce. He doesn’t forget to hit your ass in the middle of it all, knowing how much you loved the pain.

“Can’t wait to make all your dirty fantasies a reality, baby. I’ll make you a whore for my cock and my cock only.” You look back at Chanyeol, holding his gaze. “Yes, Daddy. Show me whose holes are these!” Chanyeol smirks and wraps an arm around your neck, pulling your back so they press against your chest. “Show me what I’m good for, Daddy.”

Chanyeol pulls out and tells you to kneel on the floor. Tugging on his cock, he watches the way you stick your tongue out, ready to take his semen inside your mouth. He comes in one long spurt, making a mess on your face because of his bad aim. Or did he do it on purpose?

“I’ll make sure to come in your mouth next time, baby. But for now, enjoy my warm come covering your face. You love everything I give you, right?”

You nod as a reply. Chanyeol chuckles deep in his throat. “Daddy knows you well.”

#chanyeol #chanyeol smut #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol drabble #chanyeol x you #chanyeol x reader #exo #exo smut #exo scenario #exo imagine #exo drabble #exo reactions

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xoruffitup · 6 years

Text

AITAF’s Broadway Show

WHERE DO I START? Okay, at the beginning, I guess - Deep breaths!

First, I want to describe the beautifully diverse group that came together for this extraordinary evening. It started with me and two amazing girls I met at SNL. (One being @reylonly <3) We sat together during the SNL dress rehearsal, exchanged phone numbers afterwards, and we’ve had the best group chat going ever since. My veteran dad came for me and @reylonly’s military ticket admission, while our third SNL friend had managed to connect with a colleague’s mother, who was an army nurse. The vet nurse loves theater and brought her husband as well, so we were a pretty inspiring group of all ages and backgrounds, and shared amazing conversation throughout the night.

The evening started with a very classy reception. We saw Joanne floating around talking to people and she looked stunninggg. The reception area wasn’t that big though, so we soon went down to the theater to find our seats.

We sat in the 5th row!! So when Adam came up to the front of the stage to give an introductory speech at the beginning about the inspiration to start AITAF, their 10-year anniversary, and to thank everyone who made the performance possible, I was just sitting there basking in awe and the fact that he was really THERE. TALKING. SO CLOSE. No, I would not get over it even at all for the following 2 and a half hours... :’)

I’ve read a bit of Sam Shepard but never seen True West performed live, but wow you could not ask for two better actors to play the main characters: Brothers Austin (Adam) and Lee (Michael Shannon). They said before they started the reading that they’d only rehearsed that afternoon, which is nothing short of INCREDIBLE, given how well these two played off each other. This play is full of furious, dark humor and there’s an edge of potential violence undercutting almost every scene, building the tension more and more until Austin finally tries to strangle Lee in the final scene. These two pushed and pulled at each other, getting in each other’s faces and needling each other with sharp words and insults. It was like the actors had been playing off each other for months; They knew just how to drive each other to the breaking point, and they were each brilliant in depicting the moments of rupture.

Adam highlights: There was an amazing section when Austin gets very drunk. Adam sang twice, the second time a hilarious mix of singing and shouting. He started the play wearing a blue t shirt with a grey sweater on top, but during this scene he pulled the sweater over his head, dragged it off, then bundled it up and stuffed it under his shirt. He walked around like that for a good five minutes. He half-fell against a wall and dropped to the floor, only to do a handstand and kick his feet up against the wall. (!!! This was AMAZING ahaha) At some point he did an INCREDIBLE coyote yelping noise. Another point, he talked with an entire mouthful of water and it fountained everywhere hilariously.

Lee bets Austin that he couldn’t steal any household appliances even if he wanted to, not even a toaster. (Lee steals a television early in the play.) This results in Austin stealing the entire neighborhood’s toasters and collecting them in their kitchen. (“There’s a lack of toast in the neighborhood this morning!” “You need breakfast... How about some toast?” “I love the smell of toast in the morning... it makes me feel like anything’s possible.”) All of Adam’s toast-related jokes were just killer. :’)

Obviously, Adam always looks stunning in person, but this time the highlight was unquestionably THE HAIR. The lush, long, majestic hair. There was a portion in the play when he knelt down at the front of the stage and put his head down on the floor, and !!!! THAT HEAD OF STUNNING STELLAR HAIR WOW. There was also A LOT of pushing his hair back with his hands and it got me every. single. damn. time. Be still my beating heart. (it never does when Adam’s involved...)

After the play ended, the cast stayed on stage for the Q&A, joined by the Director. Adam facilitated some discussion among the actors on their previous participation in AITAF events, and the differences between acting on stage and in film. Then he opened it up for questions from the audience.

Q&A highlights:

Someone asked how Adam manages to create a sense of intimacy in all his scenes, even when working on big films. The title “King of micro-expressions” was used, asking whether that aspect is intentional. Adam first reacted with his typical “what-me-talented?-crazy” look of skepticism, but then LOL he just bust out into every ridiculous face he could think of, to show off those micro expressions. It was SO PRESH AND FUNNY.

A few questions later, someone asked what advice he would give to his younger self while he was in the Marines, if he had a chance. Adam’s initial joke response was just: “Microexpressions” and everyone lost it.

Okay this was hands down the purest moment! The cast on stage couldn’t really see up into the balcony because of the lights, so at first Adam shaded his eyes and squinted real hard when a woman in the balcony started her question with “Hi Adam, we crossed paths back in Mishawaka a few times.” Then Adam saw who it was, grinned, and told everyone it was his high school drama teacher!! As she then began her question, she suddenly got extremely emotional and I couldn’t see it, but heard in her voice she was already or would shortly start to cry. After a moment she managed to finish her question - Whether the people Adam meets and performs for when he travels to military bases talk to him afterwards to thank him for sharing his talent and the gift of his craft. It made me a little choked up too, not gonna lie, to hear someone who knew and had some role in Adam’s earliest forays into theater, be overcome by seeing how far he’s come and all the manifold ways he puts his singular talent to use to better the world around him.

I ASKED A QUESTION AND I WAS SO CLOSE THAT HE AND I TALKED DIRECTLY TO EACH OTHER, HE LOOKED STRAIGHT AT ME AS HE ANSWERED AND IT WAS LIKE HAPPY FIREWORKS GOING OFF IN MY WHOLE BODY AHHHHHHHH. I asked him about how he’s seen attitudes change towards AITAF’s work throughout its whole 10-year journey, and I’d like to think he appreciated the question for his reflections back to their first performance and how far they’ve come since then. Video here because my friend is amazing!!!!

A SECOND BULLET DEDICATED JUST TO MY AMAZED DISBELIEF THAT ADAM SPOKE TO ME. Like, he responded to words that came out of my mouth and I somehow managed to speak said words while speaking directly to him?? SLAP ME IM DREAMING :’’’D How did I actually manage to keep myself together while in close proximity to him?! Let alone speaking directly to him?!!! I SURPRISE EVEN MYSELF. But then again, Adam seems to make the impossible possible :’)

I frequently watch theater, but tonight was really a thrilling surprise. I KNEW Adam would be stellar, of course, but I didn’t know if any of the play’s power would be lost with it just being performed as a reading. To the contrary, the performance style may have even made it better! There’s a lot of raw, angry energy in this play, and this stripped-down reading was performed with an immediacy and visceral energy I’ve rarely ever seen on stage. The movements weren’t all blocked out and planned; There was no shuffling of people or props on or off stage; There were no protracted pauses or fancy stage effects to build an atmosphere around the actors; They created everything with just their voices, words, and bodies.

I’m so, SO immensely grateful I got to attend tonight, because this might have been even better than seeing Adam in a full play. Tonight was unfiltered and instinctive, Adam just going for it and throwing everything into the part for a solid, uninterrupted 2 hours. It was equally stunning to see him just remove himself from the whole 2-hour buildup of angry tension as he started the Q&A. (Though there was a laugh among the audience when Adam turned to Michael Shannon for the first time in the Q&A, like “sure you guys really don’t want to strangle each other?”)

Tonight was wonderful and wholesome, moving and inspiring from start to finish. From the people I shared the evening with, to the frank dialogues that occurred during the Q&A about negative stigmas sometimes attached to the arts within the military, to testimonials of how AITAF’s programming guided military families into shared engagement with the arts. It was wonderful to hear the military audience around me responding with genuine enthusiasm to Adam’s initial introduction, applauding and voicing agreement. I appreciated the chance to hear Adam speak so candidly and enthusiastically about his passion project; Just as much as I appreciated slapping @reylonly’s leg and whispering “Why are his feet so cute?” and “Look at his HAIR.” :’)

TL;DR TAKEAWAY: Adam is truly insanely talented and his selfless commitment to AITAF’s goal of bringing theater to military audiences as an enhanced outlet of self-expression is so, so admirable. This man is never in it for himself, and only puts himself in center stage when there’s a larger utility for doing so. You could see that tonight, when he’d realize he was the only one answering two or three questions in a row and would look around self-consciously to his fellow cast members and say “I feel like I’m monopolizing the conversation” or “Feel free to stop me anytime... jump in anYTIME, GUYS, ANYTIME.” (<Increasingly anxiously)

SOMEHOW, Adam succeeded in the impossible tonight: Making me love him even more. But perhaps having him gazing right at me as he spoke to me was sure to have that effect :’D

Nope, still have no fucking clue how I managed it or how I survived. :’’’)

#Adam Driver #AITAF #Sorry for the grainy pics but I still wanted to use them #Please feel free to ask me anything at all about the event!#Would love to talk about it moreee : D #Would love to talk about it forever!!#Arts In The Armed Forces #driverdaily

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nottodaylogic · 6 years

Text

light.

Summary: EVEN MORE OF THE GAY LOGINCE! With a special question bECAUSE @shootingace / @ohbytheangel and I have NO. SELF. CONTROL. WHATSOEVER. Based on a post by @today-only-happens-once and dedicated, once more, to @sanders-sides-thuri :)

Pairing: Logince

A/N: Takes place after sun., part 3/3 of the Logince Fluff series, written, again, with @shootingace :) this is the last part, super fun (and frustrating since I’ve never been to Olive Garden) to write!

@hghrules @becca-becky @tinysidestrashcaptain

Hope y’all like it! :D

The tile in one pocket and the box in the other seemed to almost, nonsensically, burn as Logan walked. They’d talked over this topic before, multiple times, so there was no logical reason to be nervous.

And yet.

“Date night?” he asked his boyfriend, kissing him on the cheek. Roman startled, accidentally mutilating the word he was typing. He just looked at it, betrayed. “I’ve prepared some activities,” Logan murmured.

Roman looked very excited. “Ooh, activities! I like activities!”

“I like you.”

Roman flushed, deep and red. “Aren’t you sappy today. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. I was simply stating a fact.” He hummed, extending his arm. “I have made reservations. Shall we leave?”

“Hold on, just let me finish this sentence.”

This meant “let me finish this scene because I have no self control and must write a lot even though there are other priorities.”

“Of course.” Logan dropped a kiss to Roman’s head and walked away swiftly to get his coat.

Ten minutes later, as he expected, Roman staggered in, haphazardly yanking his jacket on. Logan looked at his watch.

“Precisely on time.” He opened the door. “Come. Our destination awaits.”

“Where are we going?” Roman asked mischievously.

“You shall see.”

“Tell me? Pleeeeeease?”

Logan smirked, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to Roman’s lips. “Will that satisfy you for the time being?”

“Mmmm, I don’t think so.” Roman tugged Logan closer, kissing him deeply. He set his hand on the small of Logan’s back, like he was about to dip him, making Logan go breathless.

“Now will you tell?” Roman asked, pulling back.

“It’s a surprise,” Logan breathed, though he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it a surprise if Roman insisted on making him fall even more in love.

Roman leaned in and whispered, “rude.” He then dropped him.

Logan scrambled to his feet, thankful for his 18 Dexterity. “Hey. We don’t have to go on the date if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to! It’s incredibly romantic, my dear. Surprises are exciting yet it’s so hard to wait!”

“As Virgil would say, ‘because you are an impatient baby’.” Logan guestuted forward, towards the car. “After you.”

—

Logan pulled into the parking lot. There weren’t many decent spots, but he managed to grab one.

Roman turned to him excitedly, seeing their destination. “Ooh, Olive Garden?”

“I come prepared to woo the server into giving us extra breadsticks to take home.”

“You’re the best.”

Logan blushed softly. “Thank you. Now, our reservation awaits us.”

They entered the restaurant and were seated right away, thanks to Logan planning ahead and making a reservation.

“Your server will be right with you,” the host said, showing them to their table.

Roman pulled out Logan’s chair dramatically. “Monsieur, your chair?”

Logan rolled his eyes. He sat down, pushing out Roman’s chair with his foot. “There. Now we are even.”

“You’re a nerd,” Roman said fondly.

Logan inhaled, ready to refute this claim, but instead said only: “I know.”

“Wow. And you say I have an ego.”

“It is true, why are you pointing that out?” Logan was confused and a bit flustered by how sweet Roman was being.

Roman snorted. “You’re adorable.”

“No, I am very serious. I am not adorable. Patton is the adorable one.”

“That’s true, but it doesn’t mean you’re not adorable.”

That’s when a server came up to their table, preventing Logan from protesting more. “Hey, I’m Remy, can I get you anything to get started?” He set a menu in front of the couple.

“Breadsticks,” Roman said, at the same time Logan said, “water, please.”

“Of course. Some waters and a basket of breadsticks?”

They nodded and Remy left. The two chatted about movies that they hoped to watch, the drama that Logan heard from his students, how Roman’s characters were behaving.

“I try to get them to do something! And usually, they’re pretty good with cooperating. Just, these past few days, they just… won’t.”

“Can’t you simply… make them do it?��

Roman made distressed noises. “But I can’t! It feels weird then, and out of character! Okay, okay, enough about my distress. Spill the tea that you hear from your students.”

“Alright.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “You will not believe what Lizzie told me Justin K. did…”

Roman clapped excitedly. “Ooh, that idiot Justin! What did he do this time?”

“Well…”

Logan told him, Roman’s grin growing, becoming more and more mischievous.

“So let me get this gay. He told this teacher, who was literally eight months pregnant, that he didn’t think women needed a maternity leave?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he ever been pregnant? Or given birth?”

Logan laughed. He loved Roman so, so, much. “Not that I know of.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I know that teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites, but Justin is definitely on my ‘not a favorite’ list. Not that I have any such thing.”

“You know, I think we’re supposed to be deciding what to order right now,” Roman mentioned.

“As if you don’t get the same exact thing every time we come here.”

“You got me there.”

“That’s a meme.”

“You got me there.”

Logan stifled a laugh. “I love you.”

Roman smiled. “Love you too.”

That’s when Remy came back to take their orders. Roman ordered spaghetti and tomato soup. Logan ordered lasagna and a Greek salad. A chat and two baskets of breadsticks later, their dinner had arrived.

Logan ate his lasagna and laughed at Roman’s jokes, but the weight in his pocket—why did he bring the ring, it might get lost, he didn’t need it, this is illogical—was very present in his mind.

And worse was the nagging thought that Roman might say no. Of course, they had talked about marriage, but you could never be completely sure of an outcome.

“Something on your mind?” Roman asked, his foot brushing Logan’s.

Logan smiled. “You.”

Roman laughed. “You’re so sweet. It’s great.”

And with those words, that laugh, Logan felt himself drawn back into the moment, the fears of a future yes or no gone for the time being.

—

When they returned back home, Logan brought out the scrabble board.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “Not even gonna ask me if I wanna play this?”

“You’ve been bringing up how you want to play Scrabble for ten days now.”

“True.”

They set it up, Logan allowed his boyfriend to pick the starting word (LADDER) (“what? It’s the only thing I can do!”), and the game began.

“Your turn,” Roman said, gesturing to the board.

Logan set down the letters R, O, M, A, and N.

“Hey, no! That doesn’t count, it’s a proper noun!”

“I’ve let you get away with many proper nouns over the years. Cut me some slack.” Logan sat back, gesturing to the board. “You go.”

Roman put down O, P, and E to write NOPE.

Logan tried not to take this as a bad omen.

He then added L, O, V to the E in NOPE, making it LOVE.

“Awww, you sap,” Roman teased, swooning. “That’s so sweet.”

They continued playing, Logan adding FOREVER and DEDICATION to Roman’s words (OCEAN and DISBELIEF)

“Is something amiss?” Roman felt his forehead, looking overly concerned for the comedic effect. “You seem to be exceedingly sentimental today.”

Logan brushed this off with a, “It was simply what I could make with my letters and the board.”

Roman eyed him curiously, but dropped the topic. “Your turn.”

Logan wordlessly set down his piece, putting it right next to ROMAN, so that it read ROMAN, will you marry me?

Roman started to protest about how “that’s not in the rules of the game, Logan!”, but then he stopped, obviously having read the piece.

His eyes snapped up, meeting Logan’s.

“You… you… Logan.” It seemed he couldn’t say anything more.

Logan slid out his chair, dropping to one knee, holding the box with the ring in front of him. “Marry me, Roman Princeton?”

“Lo… Logan, oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.” And then he was out of his chair, too, stumbling towards Logan. He leaned down, taking Logan’s face in his hands, kissing him softly. “Yes, yes, of course, yes.”

Logan let Roman pull him to his feet, his arms around Roman’s waist, holding him tight. “Roman. I love you. I love every moment we’ve spent together. I treasure every memory I share with you. And I’d like to make more memories with you. For the rest of forever.”

Roman nodded, pressing his his forehead to Logan’s shoulder. “Yes,” he choked out.

“Hey, Ro, don’t cry,” Logan whispered, rubbing Roman’s crisp, clean shirt between his fingers. “Don’t cry.”

But he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t crying a little too.

Because finally, finally, he would be marrying the love of his life.

Because… because he just loved Roman so much, loved him so much that sometimes he didn’t know what to do with all the feelings.

Because Roman was going to be his, his, forever and ever and ever.

“I love you so damn much, Roman.”

“I love you too.” Roman pulled back slightly, holding his hand out. “You going to… you going to actually put that ring on me?”

Logan laughed softly and slid the ring onto Roman’s finger, then pull Roman’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “I love you. I love you so much, Ro.”

“I know.”

Logan laughed, pulling Roman close and kissing him. “You're wonderful, Princey.”

“Mmm, I know.” Logan stared at Roman, deadpan. “Just kidding, you are too.” Roman nudged Logan’s chin with his nose then kissed his cheek. “Love you. So freaking much.”

“Dance with me?” Logan asked, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could really process what he was asking.

“Where’s the music?”

Logan tilted his head. “Sing?”

Roman snorted. “Well, we need some sort of background music, Lo. I can’t sing if I’m gonna kiss you, and I’d very much like to kiss you.”

Logan blushed, his breath catching in his chest.

“C’mon, babe,” Roman said. “Music.”

So Logan grabbed his phone, pulling up the “romantic songs for my nerd” playlist Roman had made for him.

On came As Long As You’re Mine from Wicked, and Logan pulled Roman close.

They danced and twirled and laughed together, Logan falling more and more in love. Roman was so beautiful, so loving, and Logan got to spend the rest of his live with him.

“I love you, Roman.”

“Yeah?” Roman whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Prove it.”

So Logan twirled Roman, then pulled him back, dipping him and kissing him softly.

Roman let out a soft gasp. “I love you so much,” he murmured, tangling his fingers in Logan’s hair.

“Love you too.”

—

Later, they lay on the bed together, staring at the ceiling, tired, content.

Roman curled up on Logan’s chest, so beautifully exhausted. “How long were you planning to propose?”

Logan thought for a moment. “A little while.”

“How long did you know you wanted to marry me?”

Running his hands through his fiancé’s hair, he responded, “Forever, probably. I just—I never imagined my future without you. And then a few weeks ago I realized that why not get married?”

Roman seemed to think this through for a moment when he asked, “Why me?”

The question took Logan by surprise. “Why you what?”

Roman looked directly into Logan’s eyes. The expression there was raw, unable to be described. “Why did you want to marry me?”

Because you’re the only person I’d ever want to marry. Because you’re the only person I’d ever want. Because you’re stellar. Because you’re funny and sweet and dramatic and unique and loving and thoughtful and romantic. Because despite loving you, I can’t find the vocabulary to express all of this. “Because I love you.”

“Aww, Lo.” Roman reached up, kissing Logan softly. “Now we get to plan a wedding.”

“But first we should go to bed.”

Roman’s eyebrows raised as he smirked, and Logan only slightly regretted his phrasing. “As you wish.”

Logan blushed, but nobody could prove it, so what did it matter?

—

Logan woke first in the morning, a stream of light illuminating the room. He glanced down at Roman, snoring, the ring on his finger shining.

And Logan knew that they would get to spend the rest of their lives like this.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #logince #romantic logince #Logince fluff series #ajdkdkfhjs I love them aaahh #sabine writes #Sabine Creates #writing with friends

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7wanderingpaws · 6 years

Text

3. OCEAN'S DEPTH.

Genre: marine biologist AU

Pairing: Bambam x reader

Word count: 2.2K

0. Synopsis // 1. Whales // 2. Dolphins. // 3. Ocean's depth.

(( I apologise for the long wait, it was not planned at all. Uni is in full swing, I am in my final year so the thesis writing is giving me a little headache. I hope this part will still be somehow enjoyable! Please let me know your thoughts! ))

- - - OCEAN'S DEPTH - - -

You were tapping your foot against the warm pavement the next day in the docks. The weather was still shiny, pleasant and ever so welcoming.

You were supposed to have a good mood, considering all of these aspects.

You felt like a piece of a rotten tuna tin.

Exactly like rotten tuna tin, whatever it was supposed to mean.

"Where is he?!" you shouted angrily to your two colleagues who were looking bored and kept murmuring among each other, snickering quietly.

"Calm down," said Jaebeom and pressed the side button on his iPhone to check the time. He pushed it back into his back pocket of his jeans. "His late just 15 minutes."

Jackson laughed in disbelief. "Just 15 minutes."

You glued your strict stare at the cheerful man and he just shook his head, not bothering to talk to you more.

"Well, if he isn't coming in five more minutes, we are leaving."

"But boss, even if we leave in five minutes we will still be there 30 minutes early," replied Jaebeom in a diplomatic tone.

Jackson snickered again.

You sighed, combing your hand through your already messy hair. "Are you making fun of me? Do you think this is funny?"

"No, not at all, " replied Jaebeom, coughing away his giggle.

"Look, " you started, holding your hand out." You can think whatever you want to, but the fact is that we should be there a little bit earlier to make sure everything goes smoothly. As you can see, this duck head is late anyway. This is why we have to be there a little bit earlier."

"A little bit, " mumbled Jackson to himself.

Jaebeom started to laugh loudly, not bothering to hold back anymore.

As much as you liked to see your forever cold and reserved colleagues laugh, you did not appreciate it one bit at the moment.

" Shut up, Jackson, " you snapped. " You don't let me breathe even for a little while right? You always have to push me down."

He looked at your hurt face and before he could argue in any possible way, from the distance you hear rushed steps and a very tired looking Bambam. He was trying to adjust his bag on his shoulder as his hair was a big mess.

"I'm here! I'm coming! Oh, thanks for waiting for me!" he breathed as he finally arrived.

"Good." You turned around and marched forward towards the kindergarten that you hated so much at the moment. Youngjae was going to pay a big price for letting his mouth talk so much.

If Jackson were a dog, he would have his ears pressed to the sides of his head, his tail between his legs and lowered head. There wasn't a minute when you wouldn't fight these days despite how hard and cold you both were to each other.

He still wouldn't tell you what was pissing him off so much about you and you certainly didn't want to ask about that kind of thing. This way you were aware you were annoying him and that was more than enough.

You all made your way to the kindergarten and to your pleasure, you were quickly ushered in, the kids already waiting.

"Soon is never soon enough, Dr Im," you muttered to Jaebeom. Before he could retort something too sophisticated for you, you turned quickly to your team, mostly focusing your attention to your two colleagues rather than Bambam who was smiling the whole time as he was observing the kids' drawings. "Alright, we literally have like five minutes to discuss whose gonna talk about what-"

"Y/N," you heard your name. Youngjae's mum was standing next to you, her frame tall and her facial features kind. "I'm afraid you will have to go in now. The kids are waiting and they are restless."

"Yes but-"

"Alright, then there is no time to waste!" shouted Bambam, suddenly paying attention and soon he was entering the little hall kids had there for their performances.

Jackson snickered as he followed Jaebeom and BamBam. "So much for authority, huh."

A tiny growl escaped your lips, startling you. Damn. Now the game was on. You would ruin Jackson for sure.

The kids greeted you politely, most of them curiously looking at the blonde haired Bam.

While Jaebeom looked uncomfortable and seemed like dying inside from the attention, Jacskon was also naturally swayed with the kids as he was smiling brightly, waving at them.

"Everyone, let me introduce you these marine biologists," started Youngjae's mother, her voice a pleasant baritone. "Dr Y/N is The leader of the marine research institute here in Mokpo and Dr Jackson and Dr Jaebeom are her colleagues, great experts. Dr Bambam is a world famous marine biologist from Thailand so make sure to treat him with respect."

"Are we considered trash next to him?" muttered Jackson as he had his bright smile plastered on his face.

You bumped your elbow into his ribs quite hardly which made him wince with surprise. He widened his eyes at you, but you had a stern look already focused on the wall opposite you.

"Now I will let our biologists take over the talking and please participate actively!"

Youngjae's mum nodded at you with a supportive smile and you made sure to thank kindly before reaching for the microphone. "Hello, everyone! I'm Y/N and I would like to start with a question for all of you. Please raise your hands if you want to talk, alright?" you asked with a thumb up but when you didn't get any feedback you laughed awkwardly. "Alright! So, what do you understand under marine biology or marine research?"

You had a weird feeling these questions were not exactly meant for such a young audience as these four-year-olds who barely knew their mother's name but you were serious about doing your job professionally.

One little boy in the front row raised his hand shyly. "I think you work with dolphins."

You swayed your head from side to side. "Yes, could be also."

"That's totally true!" exclaimed Bambam. "And you know what? Let me tell you something that I'm sure you didn't know about whales." The way he was talking made kids much more interested compared to the poker faces they were giving you.

"The whales are these veeery big animals, right?" asked Bambam, motioning with his hands. "We also call them mammals.They can be much bigger than this whole kindergarten! And the important thing to know about them is that their poop is needed for the ocean's ecosystem."

You snapped your head to Bambam, not liking the direction he was going. On the other side Jaebeom and Jackson were also listening as intently as the kids.

"So how exactly does this work, hm? Well, when the whales poop it's really big and can create a big mess." Kids started to laugh, supported by Bambam. "Their poop contains lots of important microscopic creatures that are beneficial for other fish! For instance, phytoplankton is a crucial part of the ocean's ecosystem and some underwater animals live off of it."

"Eeeeeeeeew," kids whined but laughed loudly, scrunching up their noses.

BamBam laughed too, extremely pleased with himself. Jackson and Jaebeom had a light grin, also liking the playful way Bam introduces whale's poop.

"Another thing we have to watch out for are coral reefs," started Jackson his part. The k god it was an appropriate topic. "Do you know what are coral reefs right?"

There was a lady sitting by with a laptop who screened pictures on the big wall so the kids could see. She typed quickly into Naver search engine the keywords and all of you were met with colourful fish and massive corals. It made you smile right away and Jackson went up to the picture and tried to simplify the information about the coral reefs.

“They are extremely endagered. You know Nemo, right? Well, he also lives in these coral reefs. However, Nemo cannot cope with warm water. That is what causes these reefs to die out - warmed up temperatures.”

All of you continued with your presentations, trying to engage children as much as possible and at the end having a nice little quiz (with a rewarding present too!).

Jaebeom was breaking jokes about sea horses that you tried not to cringe about but thanks to Bambam, he supported every idea. It almost seemed like he knew only the silly stuff and not the important information.

After you were finished, you stopped Bam on your way out, so that Jackson and Jaebeom wouldn't hear you.

"Can we go diving today?" you spilled.

If Bambam was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead a signature smile spread across his face. "Well of course , boss. But I made a reservation at this five star restaurant you have in this little town so I will go there first."

You sighed, trying not to show your frustration. "Look. You shouldn't eat before diving especially not with the depth of our diving. Secondly, I thought you came here to help, not try all these so call five star restaurants."

BamBam laughed, tapping your shoulder. "should I cancel because of you, Y/N?"

"Exactly my idea," you smiled, walking past him.

He was quick to grab your hand though. "How will you refund me this loss?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how important I hold my luxury living. Since I'm going to sacrifice it for you, I hope it will be rewarding at least." His hand trailed over your arm, teasing you.

By now you knew better than to take his ideas seriously. "Well, heated kissing under the water, how does that sound."

Bam laughed tapping you shoulder. "Good enough, girl, good enough."

You couldn’t believe your own words. Your own mouth. Your own tongue. heated kissing under the water?! There was a sudden urge for you to slap yourself as you were heading to the docks to meet Bambam. How on earth could be this cheesy?

You knew Bam was not serious half of the time and even though he did tell you some good things about the marine biology and how to lead this entire expedition, there was just something slightly off. Whenever someone had a really professional question, he would suddenly go quiet, dissing the question with a simple answer that didn’t really add to your knowledge.

When you entered the docks with all your equipment, you were surprised to find him already there. He seemed deep in thought, his uniform already on.

You paused for moment, thinking what to do.

Set your goals straight...

There was no doubt you needed this guy for you to find the creature. He had all the knowledge. Apparently...

“How was it when you found out people know you?” you walked towards him, a challenging smile on your burned face. “And why would you talk about whale poop anyway.”

Bambam smirked as he turned towards you, his full attention now on you. “How else do you want to get the kids attention if not with something silly.”

“Good for you it was a true fact what you said,” you replied, putting on your swimming gear.

“I only say things that are true,” he murmured, eyeing you up.

A blush creeped up into your cheeks as you zipped up the uniform on your back. You both checked whether the equipment you had was prepared for the dive. “I sure hope so.”

“So the kissing part,” he started.

You held out your hand quickly. “Stop right there. I didn’t mean any of that.”

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“I do,” you said without thinking and immediately closed your mouth in pure shock. What did you just say?!

“You do?” he asked, his eyes full of hope.

You blinked a few times, hiding behind one of the oxygen bombs. “What? I mean I like the weather today.”

Bambam burst out into fit of laughters. “You are actually super cute, you know that? You play all this hardly approached girl but you are such a softie.”

“That is some good load of whale poop,” a doubtful laughter was the only thing you could let out. “Anyway, let’s go already. It’s gonna be super dark in a few.”

“Yes, that’s the point of night diving.”

As you walked passed him, you turned sharply, facing him. “Listen, Bambam. Whatever it is you are thinking, stop it. And just so you know, I have my eyes on you.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at you, obviously not taking you seriously but you just sighed and headed towards the little stairs leading into the water. It wasn’t until you reached the edge and you slipped on it that you felt his hands around your waist. You yelped feeling him pulling you backwards. It made him slip almost as well but he managed to keep a strong stance making sure you are steady.

You stayed like that for a few more seconds before your heart beat could simmer down to a normal rate. Slowly turning around, you saw Bambam’s gentle face. His eyes were already on you when you met his gaze. His hand reached out and slowly pushed your messy hair out of your face before his index finger slipped under your chin, sending goosebumps down your spine.

You didn’t realise you were holding your breath until his face was inching closer to yours.

Oh no.

What was he doing?!

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