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simping-invader · 3 months

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FANFIC PART 2 :3

Ok ok so before we jump in a few things bc.. I forgot about them dhdhdhdh

• so I did completely forget about zims disguise and I tried to kind of shoehorn it in so just go along with it 💀

● it makes my life easier if the pac can be removed for however long they want so that can happen

● I am making up organ names as I go..go with it dhdhdhdhh

Ok onto the pt2!

Too hot (pt..2)

Dibs pov:

I held the gate to the pool open for zim, smiling at him, even though all i got back is a sneer as he walked inside, I had a pretty good feeling he was happy to be here in some way. His antennae gave that away. I can't tell the exact emotion, but I know that when they're down like that and curled at the end, it's something good. If he was truly upset, they would be either straight down or pointing up and bending at a pretty sharp angle. Why does he continue to pretend like he hates me, I don't know.

"Is this 'pool' always so..full?" zim complains as I close the gate behind us "on hot days like this, yeah. It might be hard to find some chairs, so keep an eye out for any zim scoffs at me in return."I have yet to see the 'fun.' " I roll my eye at him, noticing 2 empty chairs." Ah! Come one before they get stolen. " i grab his 3 fingered hand, dragging him twords the chairs and ignoring his initial protests. When we reach the chairs, i put the towels down on them, effectively marking them as ours "God I can't wait to get out of this heat." I smile, reaching for the bottom of my shirt and taking it off, folding it up neatly before grabbing my sunblock.

Zims pov:

I find myself staring when Dib removes his shirt, slathering himself with that white cream, which looks similar to the goop he gave me..was I supposed to bring that?.. I can't really care right now, unable to pull my attention away from the human. I probably look like a fool...all because of this damn! Dib-stink!.

"You gonna take off your shirt and boots? Or do you like melting in the sun? " Dibs voice snaps me out of my trance, and I can feel my face heat up from being caught watching him."tch! The great zim doesn't want to expose himself to your inferior eyes. " I spit, my gaze darting away from him. "Zim, don't be weird. It's too hot for your stubborn antics," dib sighs.

I scoff again, hesitantly reaching for the end of my invader shirt and pulling it off, taking great care to fold it up so the logo is clear and proud on the front. Next, i slip off my boots. Luckily, most of the human worm things are too stupid to notice I am missing like two extra digits on both my hands and feet. Nor do they notice I forgot my wig. These weird worms probably believe my antennae are two weird strands if hair. "So what we just..stand in the water?? Doesn't sound very fun to me. " I cross my arms, glaring at Dib, who soon has an odd grin on his face."No, we do things like this!" Before I could even question him, I feel myself being lifted from the ground, and my pac suddenly disconnected. I open my mouth to yell at him, but before I can even try and squirm to get myself down, I'm suddenly hurling into the air, quickly falling down into the water.

Panic fills my mind as I realize I can't figure out how to get back to the surface, nor can I breathe in earth's 'water'. Suddenly, bubbles swish down all around me, and a hand grabs onto me, pulling me back up before my 'lungs' could give out. When my head finally breaches the surface, I gasp out, grasping onto whoever saved me. I'm met with laughter, from whom I realized to be Dib, who was supporting me. How the humans can stay above the surface I don't know. "How dare you laugh at zim!!" I yell, only getting more laughing in response

"I guess I should have made sure you know how to swim before throwing you in." I glare at him. If it wasn't for the fact he was the only thing keeping me above the water's surface, I would kill him . "Let's get you to where you can touch." Before I can question what he means by that, we are moving to the other side of the 'pool', having to dodge other Stinky! Humans and their worm babies. Eventually, I felt the floor against my feet, and when I was able to fully stand, I pushed Dib off of me.

I must admit..the pool is much cooler in the water. "You're lucky I don't harvest your organs for that, Dib stink," I huff, having to stop myself from staring...again. somehow, he looked even better wet. His stupid hair slicked back. The stupid sun reflecting off the stupid water on his stupid skin.. Everything about him just makes me feel all... mixed up and warm.. too warm.

"You're lucky I don't turn you in at the science museum, space boy." Dib says in that teasing tone that makes my squelch throb. "I still don't see how this is fun." I huff lowly "well..you kinda need to know how to swim, I guess." Dib laughs a bit."I didn't think about that part." I start to head tword the ladder, done with this 'pool'. I mainly just want to get away from Dib before I expose myself.. annoyingly, he follows me. "Hey zim, where are you going?" I huff at him."I'm done with your 'pool'. This isn't 'fun'" I reach for the ladder, but dib suddenly grabs my wrist "oh come on! It hasn't even been 2 minutes!" He suddenly pulls me away from the ladder and closer to him. I can feel my face heat up from that, my antennae flat against his chest. "I don't care! I want to leave. " I spit out quick, jerking myself away from him. Dib sighs and once again follows me to the ladder, this time allowing me to climb out, but for some reason, coming with me. "Fine, we can leave." I stop, "we?"

This is bad. I can't get away from him if he won't let me! "Yes we, the pool isn't as fun if it's just me. " he heads over to our chairs ,beginning to dry himself off and once again, making it impossible to be near him with almost drooling."Well..can't you just go home! Leave zim alone. " I snach my towel off the chair, drying myself off as well "because I'm bored. And you can't pretend you hate me, you're antennae are a dead giveaway." I freeze. What does he mean by that.. how does he know!? Does he know?! Did gir tell him! Oh, this was not good. Maybe I can play it off. "Tch, what to you know, you're just a stupid human!"

"Well.." Dib starts, walking closer to Me for some reason. Instead of backing away, I stay frozen. My eyes widen as he suddenly grabs one of my antennae. "Well, when you're actually annoyed, they stick up, and then they bend at almost a 90° angle. If you're sad I've noticed they're more droopy, but right now they're more..curved downwards. And I've noticed that's always a positive emotion..don't know the exact emotion, but I know you're not hating this as much as you claim." He give me that damn smile, and suddenly the sun isn't the only thing melting me. "You- you know nothing! You lie!" I yell. "Whatever you say zim... Anyway if you wanna leave here, then we're going to vibe at your place" he collects our things and begins to walk towards the gate without putting his shirt on.

I have to scramble to put on my boots, following behind him. "w- you're not going to put your shirt on???" Dib shrugs, walking out of the gate."Nah. It's too hot. " it's almost like he knows what he's doing to me. "Well- can I have mine??" Dib stops, looking at me with a smirk?? "Nah, it's fine, space boy. If people aren't looking at you for being green and clearly having antenna, I don't think they'll bat an eye to you being shirtless." What was that look for! Does he know?? All I can do is follow him back to my base and hope he's just...getting lucky.

-end of part 2 <3-

If anyone's wondering I end these when I get close to 1,500 words that's that's my sign to move on to the next part

Part 1 👇

#invader_simp #invaderzim #dib membrane #zim #eventual smut #fluff #invader zim zadr #zadr #fanfic #part 2 of idk #ignore my mistakes im trying #dib #sugestive #writing #sillyposting

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jaywalkingjaywalker · 1 year

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hc post pt1(???);

((im going 2 periodically update this/make more??))

also i project a lot of jay woopsie daisy

-jay is about yay high

-nya and jay grew out (and in jay's case also stopped ironing) their hair after s6

nya rlly hated being compared to delora

-cole hovers around when someone's sick

-cole = bird = shiny things = shiny crystal room

he pick up anything sparkly and stores it. he also collects geos

-dumbass trio(kai, cole, jay) joke about zane having a 'steal rod' bc they're immature 12 yr olds

-cole's jumpidy from constantly being on guard

i mean realistically all of them can b, just it my notes app i specifically said cole

-zane has a detachable head

-jay loves horror but pisses his pants scared

-jay listens to lady gaga; kai is a swifty; cole blasts lana dal ray; lloyd listens to melanie martinez

-the bounty has a junk drawer

there was a prank that went around where someone hid kai's mask in it. and then kai hid cole's. and then jay hid zane's. so on and so forth. they don't know who keeps putting their masks in the drawer but, now whenever they cant find it that's the first place they check

-cole is a stoner. he started using to calm his nerves whenever they're flying the bounty

he gets stressed from being so high off the ground all the time

also bc he fell. a lot

(credit to my friend who i dont think has a tumblr)

-jay and kai greet each other by smacking the other on the head

-lloyd is left handed

-after kai made fun of jay's nunchuck's, they both got into a heated argument/cat fight. as punishment, wu made them switch weapon's. kai doesnt tease jay's nunchucks and jay will never use kai's sword to cut bread again

-nya cuts her own bangs

bc nya has a bit of hair experience; whenever pixal or zane want a bit of a hairdo, they ask her.. also shes a mechanic sooo

they're NOT taking a chance w/jay

-zane has a cook book(cant decide if its digital or not) with notes about everyones specific taste

oh, kai doesn't like tomatoes? he makes a small note on every recipe that includes tomatoes

nya likes her pancakes extra fluffy? zane droughts it down and makes a special batch just for her

he does it instantly after he made the "mistake" so he never makes it again

-speaking of kitchen, jay keeps tinkering around with the machinery w/out telling anyone

suddenly the coffee machine has 8 new options? huh, weird...

-no one knows about nya and jay's left over scares from skybound. i also dn when they find out in my silly little universe

-platonic cuddling is a common sight

-no-one is neuro typical

-after s6, nya started tying her hair back and growing it out. It looks like a little nub

-after s6, jay stopped straight ironing his hair, dying it ginger and wearing a lot of makeup

nya can basically fly when its raining

nya fidgets w/water. like making it take different shapes, splitting it in half and half again, swishing it back n forth(i like swishing noise)

#jays ooc hcs #(im obsessed sorry)#making more of these i just ran out of hcs in this specific note #mayb ill expand on some of these????

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copias-thrall · 3 years

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There’s Something About Mary

A day in the life of our crusty Mr. Goore

Mary POV chapter bc I want to and I can.

⬅️ Previous

*public masturbation, kinda*

Mary wakes up horny.

He must have been having a pleasant dream, because his cock is hard and throbbing where it rests heavy against his thigh. He shoves a hand down into his undone jeans to give his cock a squeeze—just for a moment of relief—and, as the touch wakes him up fully, he realizes he can hear the distinct sounds of sex from one of the rooms. A thump thump thump and a squeak squeak squeak, all punctuated with blatant moans.

Fuck it, he thinks, and he begins to jack it to the sex orchestra going on, not 10ft from where he lies on the couch. Once a place they sometimes took turns on, the couch has become Mary’s de facto room—a subtle punishment for his supposed defection. So, he has no qualms about masturbating in his room, and if any of the other guys have an issue with it, Mary has no problem making his display more public, just for spite.

He pauses only to spit in his hand when his dry palm begins to chafe. It doesn’t even matter when the noises from the other room cease (and later Mary will have to tease them about their staying power), Mary just scrolls through his mental Rolodex until he brings up the memory of his dick in between Suey’s tits, how they jiggled despite being held together, how shiny they became once covered in his jizz, and how she looked up at him as she contorted one to bring it up to her mouth to lap some off.

“Shit, shit,” he exclaims as the memory of her pink tongue lapping up his cum causes him to release. Some shoots up his bare chest, but most of it lands and pools in his belly button. Eyes still closed, his free hand shoots out and fumbles for the box of tissues on the table, encountering instead a stack of thin takeout napkins.

As he does his best to clean himself up with the napkins—whose integrity is suspect—he can hear the low rumble of male voices and a high, feminine giggle from the sex room. Just to be a jackass, he gets himself up so that he can have first dibs on the bathroom.

Making sure to lock the door behind him, Mary turns on the hot faucet, willing the water to warm up sooner than later. He takes the opportunity, while he waits, to piss in the toilet; it’s already open—toilet seat up—even though it’s supposed to put it down when they have guests. They’re out of TP again, so a roll of paper towels rests on the lid of the tank.

Once the water is warm enough, Mary uses a couple pieces from the roll to clean off the jizz drying and to give himself a brief wipe down. His face is still half crusty with makeup, and he’s tempted to just add to it, but he’s learned from hard experience how that can fuck up your face, so—even though it’s a goddamned pain—Mary washes his face. He even uses the harsh Dial hand soap, even though the acrid smell will get up into his nose for hours.

He thinks of the nice-smelling scrub Suey has and her drugstore face cream he sometimes rubs into his skin.

In the soap- and toothpaste-speckled mirror, he starts to apply his “Day Face” (as Suey calls it) from the communal box of makeup (his better stuff is in his backpack): a light dusting of white powder; some eyeliner all the way around; a dull, red lipstick; and black shadow on his cheekbones.

He’s just starting on his hair when there comes a pounding on the door

“Fucks’ sake. C’mon, Goore.”

Mary turns his head upside down in the sink basin so he can haphazardly splash some water into his hair.

“Fuck off, douchebag.”

He starts to work his fingers into his locks, coaxing the glue already in it to activate.

“She’s gotta pee, man.”

He fluffs his forelock in the mirror as his other hand searches for the blood tube in the box.

“We have a kitchen sink.”

A small voice tells him not to take his annoyance with his friends out on the girl, and he sighs.

“Stop being a di—”

The voice cuts off as Mary swings the door open. Brendan's angry face smooths into one of minor irritation. The girl—Lisa?—stands, thighs crushed together, in an oversized kitten t-shirt. She looks at Mary, wide-eyed; her gaze darts to his bare, wet chest before snapping back up.

“Lis,” he says, winking as he saunters out.

Her face crumples a little.

“Lizzy,” she says, and Mary’s stomach swoops a bit when he realizes he’s probably slept with her before.

He makes himself smile as she moves past him to the bathroom.

“That’s what I said: Liz.” He shoots her a finger gun at her as Brendan scowls at them both. When the door closes and Brendan is still glaring, Mary lets out a “What?”

“You sticking around for breakfast, man?”

Mary rolls his eyes. “I’m here, ain’t I?” He starts to paw through the plastic shelving drawers next to the couch for a shirt.

Brendan shrugs. “Thought your pussy-whipped ass might need to get back to that uptown princess of yours.”

He glares at Brendan. “Stop being dick.”

“She’s fucking slumming it, dude. I’m warning you.”

It’s not a new argument, so Mary just ignores him, instead trying to apply a bit of blood to the tip of his forelock using the heart compact Suey gave him.

Titus emerges from the shared room, yawning, in his terrible leopard print robe that’s way too short.

“Morning, asswipe,” he says to Mary as he walks by. “What’re we bitching about?”

Brendan says “uptown girl” as Mary says “nothing.”

Titus sighs.

“Jesus, Brendan. You gotta get over that. That’s Mary’s mistake to make.”

“You know what? Fuck this shit.” Mary starts getting his backpack in order.

“That’s right! Blow off another band meeting!” says Brendan, and Mary spins on his heel to stomp back.

He jabs a finger into his chest. “I’m here all the goddamned time, more than I am at her place. I come to every meeting you tell me about.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you about anything. You should just be here. You should be committed,” hisses Brendan.

“I’m going to make some toast,” says Titus as he swishes toward the kitchen.

Mary rifles through his plastic draws and slams a notebook and loose papers onto the table.

“There’s mine, dude. Lyrics. Composition. Where’s yours?”

Donnie and Jamie wander out of their room.

“Not this shit again. It’s too fucking early,” says Donnie.

Brendan vibrates. “What about funds, man? A social media presence? You think all that happens by magic?”

“So I’m supposed to write, and compose, and do the budget?” snarls Mary.

“Guys,” moans Jamie.

“And our Insta is shit, by the way.”

“Fuck. Can we not?” moans Donnie.

Mary again jabs a finger at Brendan. “Then tell him to can it. I’ve already been exiled to the couch. I don’t need him picking fights because he doesn’t like my girlfriend, who—by the way—has never fucking done anything wrong.”

“You haven’t been exil—” Jamie starts.

“We were supposed to fucking share those rooms,” Mary hisses as he gesticulates. “I pay the same amount of rent, and yet I come home one day to find all my stuff in a pile in the living room. I have to wait for you guys to stop playing video games because ‘this is shared space’ to fucking sleep.”

“We all agreed—”

“No. You guys agreed. I didn’t get shit to say about it. So you’ll forgive me if I’m not too fucking keen on being pleasant.”

They all stand there, glowering at each other until Donnie says, “I need to take a goddamned piss,” and finds the bathroom door locked. At his soft The fuck? the lock clicks, and Lizzy opens the door cautiously.

“I’m sorry. It just. Seemed like you guys were getting into it.”

Brendan sighs. “C’mon, babe. Let’s get your stuff.”

The fight isn’t a new one, and—with no resolution in sight—they all drop the subject so they can get on with the breakfast of eggs on toast Titus brings out and the subsequent band meeting. The Brick—a cheap, overworked laptop—is brought out so they can go over band business: the budget; the van maintenance and parking costs; the gig and practice schedule is outlined so that they can align their work shifts; new merch ideas are bandied about; and they talk about how to improve their digital sales.

Mary’s leg jiggles impatiently.

The meeting breaks nearly 5hrs later; Jamie goes back to sleep because he’s got the night shift at the Quik•Mart; Brendan heads out for his afternoon shift at Target; it’s Donnie’s day off, so he cues up Mario Kart; and Titus decides he’s going to go pound on the drums in the practice space they rent, since his dad pays his bills.

Mary has been saddled with stopping by the local record stores to see if any of their physical CDs have sold to prove he’s “committed,” even though he’s got the closing shift at Sixes & Sevens.

As he’s leaving the building, he encounters Brendan, who is leaning against the brick, smoking a cigarette. Mary’s fingers twitch.

“So you’re not coming back tonight, then.”

“We have band business?”

“No.”

“Then, no.”

Brendan lets out a puff of smoke.

“You think I’m being a dick, but that girl does not care about you. She’s a tourist. Us—the band. That’s what’s real, Mary.”

Mary knows he should keep walking, but even after counting to 10, he’s still pissed, so he spins on his heel.

“You don’t know anything about her or her goddamned life.”

“Neither do you.” He finishes the smoke, then tosses it to the pavement to grind under his combat boot. “We’ll be here when it all explodes in your face, Goore. But you’re going to have to rebuild a lot of bridges.”

And then he’s off down the sidewalk. Mary stands there, seething, waiting until Brendan disappears round the corner since he’s also headed in that direction.

He’s not really in the best of moods when he hits up the first store, but by the 4th, he’s back to his plucky repartee. The owner of his favorite shop intimates that a vinyl version of their LP might sell much better than their DIY CD, and Mary enthusiastically thanks the dude as if it’s the first time such a concept has been considered.

The whole route honestly doesn’t even really take that much time at all—maybe 2 hours—so he chances stopping by Suey’s. Worst case, he’ll take a nap; best case, she’ll be there to bitch at him.

Like everything else today, however, circumstances are just not on his side, and he opens the door to her tiny fucking apartment to find it empty. The mail is bad again, and he rifles through it, plucking out anything that’s obviously junk to toss and anything that looks like a bill to put on her counter. There’s only a bowl in the sink, so he leaves it.

He’s hoping that she comes home before he has to leave—maybe she’ll even give him a blow job—as he wraps himself up in the afghan that smells slightly of her.

She doesn’t.

His alarm wakes him up at 4:15pm for his shift at 6. Groggily, he stumbles to the fridge to see what there is to eat, and finds a pot crammed in haphazardly amongst the other food items. Mary’s not really sure what he’s looking at—Suey tends to just throw shit together when she can’t be bothered, but most of the time it’s edible.

It ends up being some sort of cheesy potato stew and actually isn’t that bad. He eats the whole thing out of the pot before scrubbing it and the lone bowl clean. He waits as long as he dares to watch her come clomping tiredly through her door, but he really does have to leave. He leaves a kiss on her mirror after he reapplies his lipstick. (He should probably redo his face but: eh.)

Work is work. It starts slow—with Mary taking down the chairs and wiping off everything with the disinfectant spray. Sometimes Mary finds this kind of Zen—a time to hum out chords and roll around lyrics in his head—but today he’s just tired. It gets a little better when Mickey and the other bartender show up to do citrus prep. It’s a weekday, so there’s only a moderate crowd, and Mickey leaves them to it so he can do business manager-type things in his office.

And then there are the girls. Most of the girls who come to Sixes & Sevens aren’t the type to be put off by Mary’s whole shtick—and there are obviously the ones who come here expressly to flirt with him—so he has no qualms turning on his charms. Mickey lets him do it because customers are customers, and if girls want to come and spend money on drinks while they purr at Mary, who is Mickey to stop them? Len or Mika don’t give a shit because tips are pooled.

Used to be Mary could have his pick of a warm body for the evening—some girl (or occasionally some guy if Mary deemed him beefy enough) who’d take him to her nice-smelling, clean apartment … who’d let him spend the night on her soft, downy pillows after he pounded her into next year, before kicking him out at dawn. But now he’s got a girlfriend—one who makes sure he eats and yells at him to wash his face—waiting for him in her stale apartment with her flat, polyester pillows, and Mary hopes he’s not fool enough to fuck that up.

Not that his dick has gotten the memo.

No matter how many times Mary tells that fucker that he’s not going to fuck any of these women, his dick still twitches in interest whenever plump lips are wrapped around straws or fingertips trail over his hand. Tonight is especially bad for some reason, and Mary has to stick close to the walls of the bar so that no one can see his semi. A girl in a furry, white shrug seems particularly on his dick, and he does his best to flirt just enough for a good tip, but not enough for a proposition.

When he gets his break, Mary takes it out back in the alley by the dumpster. The air is chill, but it feels good after the humidity of the bar. He was hoping maybe his dick would go down, but it’s like it’s trying to spite him. Leaning his head back on the wall, he can’t help but close his eyes and run his palm lightly over the outline. It’s a fool’s errand—it’s not like he can get off without it showing on his pants—but that doesn’t stop him from touching.

A voice clears, and Mary startles. He’s out here by the rancid garbage so he can be alone, so he wasn’t really expecting to find anyone else.

“I can help you with that,” says the girl with the white fur that may or may not be real. She’s standing across from him, and he can see that she’s in a dress so simple that it must be hella expensive. She’s holding an unlit cigarette.

Mary jerks his hand away from his crotch, shifting so that he can surreptitiously adjust his jeans.

“The fuck are you doing out back here?”

She shrugs. “Needed to get away from my bitches. I love them but: drama city. You got a light?”

He knows it’s a ruse, but he still fumbles out his Zippo because he’s a goddamned gentleman. She, shockingly, takes the opportunity to move in closer to his body as he holds out the flame … close enough to blow the smoke of the first drag in his face.

“So,” she says, eyes darting down to his semi. “You want me suck that?” She gesticulates with her chin, posture nonchalant but eyes hungry.

His dick gives an answering throb, but he shrugs. “Nah. I got a girl.”

She looks at him, assessing, before half crossing her arms and taking another drag. Smoke pours out her nose.

“She’s not here.”

Mary doesn’t respond immediately, not knowing how to get out of this. She hasn’t said anything untrue. He’s horny, Suey’s not here, and she wants to suck his cock.

He reaches his hand up and taps his breast where he thinks his heart is.

“She’s here,” he says, and he’s glad Suey’s not present because hoo boy would she give him shit for that winner.

The girl just tilts her head at him, this time blowing smoke out the side of her mouth after she inhales. It occurs to Mary that he wants her cigarette more than his dick wants to be sucked. If she thinks this is some kind of elaborate game of hard to get, she’s sorely mistaken.

“You got a picture?”

“A … what?”

She gesticulates impatiently. “A picture. Of this girlfriend.”

Mary thinks, then pats around for his wallet, even though he only ever puts it in his back pocket. When she sees the wallet come out, she laughs.

“An actual picture? That’s old school.”

He shrugs as he rifles. “I’m on my break.” He doesn’t tell her that his ancient flip phone doesn’t take pictures. Well, not good ones.

The photo of Suey he has is relatively new—slipped in behind the old, worn one of his mum—but its edges are starting to soften. In the image, Suey stands, hip popped, as she gives him the finger with a snotty look on her face. She’s in one of her weird 90′s outfits—a micro mini and tied up band tee—and the cute pudge of her belly hangs over her waist band a little. Her hair is pushed back from her face because she’s just lifted up her sunglasses—there’s still a little mark on her nose where they were resting.

She hates this picture, but her attitude makes him smile.

“You gonna ogle it all night, Mary?”

Mary’s attention snaps back to the alley. He ignores the intimacy. Carefully, with a stern look on his face that he hopes conveys how much the photo is not to be fucked with, he hands the picture over.

White Fur looks at the picture for a long time. Then she looks up at him. She gives the image one more glance before handing it back to him.

“Yeah, ok,” she says as she crosses her arms again.

Mary tucks the photo back into his wallet.

“The fuck does that mean?” he scowls. He’s just about had it with people insulting Suey today, and some random-ass girl in a back alley is the last person he’d let get away with it, even if she is a fan.

She takes her last drag before flicking the stub in the direction of a dumpster.

“Dunno. You seem like the type to have some scene girl with more legs than brains hanging off your arm.”

Mary thinks that’s a little uncharitable: he’s always been an equal-opportunity lay.

“She seems legit though,” the girl continues. “Makes sense.”

“Uh. Thanks?”

“Yeah, no problem.” She heads for the door, but stops to smirk at him. “Looks like I helped after all.”

As she swings back inside, Mary looks down to realize his hard-on is gone.

Mickey doesn’t cut him early, but he doesn’t make him stay past closing either. Even so, it’s still after 3am when he gets to Suey’s. The bills are gone from the counter, but there are no new dishes in the sink. He opens the fridge to find a pizza box crumpled into the top, balanced precariously on the other items. Mary takes it out and inhales the cold pizza right from the box; he knows they’re all for him because Suey fucking hates pepperoni. (Though it doesn’t escape his notice that she’s put one piece of pineapple in the center to mess with him.)

He leaves the box by the trash (he’ll flatten it tomorrow), and then makes his way to her bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, lest he incur her wrath.

When he finally wiggles into her twin bed in his boxers, he’s bone tired. His dick still kinda wants some action, but Mary thinks he’d probably just fall asleep in the middle, and Suey really would bite his head off if he woke her up for no reason. He wishes she’d just sleep nude, but finding her in one of his well-worn shirts is the next best thing. He doesn’t mean to wake her up, but he can’t help himself from running his hands all over her—this girl who sees him and not his “image.”

“Mare?” she says in a quiet, sleepy voice.

He kisses her head.

“Go back to sleep, baby doll.”

She doesn’t speak again, but she squirms around until she’s sprawled across his chest. He’d prefer to have her caught up in a little spoon, but having her pressed into him—body sleep warm—is nothing to wave a stick at.

This is all he wanted, anyway.

Next ➡️

#mary goore #feral cats fic #gutter punk #mary pov #my writing #original post

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seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana · 4 years

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@megatraven

OKAY SO MY PARANORMAN IDEA WAS THAT:

Like ok my idea is a little conflicted and it’s going to be in 2 parts because I have 2 other versions (or 1 since my 2nd version isn’t making sense and isn’t too thought out) to write and this one is already long. This version goes with the “oh MC went down Hades route and listened to Astraeus and she loves Alex yet she kills all the gods.” So going down that part of the idea is that:

She is in pain. She is scared. She doesn’t know what to do. That one raised hand meant everything to her. And Hades raised his hand,,,and was going to let her die. He was going to witness it. And she was scared. Petrified. And so she listens to Astraeus. It pains her to kill people she does care for, but she doesn’t know what else to do. And when she sees Alex not even wanting to help her (I can’t remember if they turned their back on her? I can’t remember my bad-), she loses it. She listens to Astraeus, takes the clothes he gives her, steals the artifacts, and kills the Gods. However, MC takes a death blow and she’s dying and only Alex is there to comfort her. They swore to always be there for her since they were kids, and they failed before, and they’re not going to fail again.

“MC, I’m so sorry,” they would whisper to her, voice shaking with emotion. They blame themselves but MC smiles at them and places a hand on their cheek. “It’s not your fault,” and then her face turns into an angry scowl, “it’s the GODS’ fault!” Alex winced at the anger in her voice. They’ve never heard it that loud and that roaring, but they still comfort her. They love her and they failed her, and in her last moments they hold her close to them, listening to her heart beat and her words as she speaks, and then she takes her last breath, and they wish they took their last breath with her.

And like,,lets just imagine the funeral happens, and Alex goes home and sleeps one night. I sincerely don’t know how to do the scene where Aggie and Norman meet in the spirit world (In a way???) for Alex and MC so,,they got there by sleeping lol. They’re at a beach and its sunset. They don’t know why they’re there, but they know it’s not a dream, so they look around. They see MC wearing the clothes she wore as she died, and she was standing in the ocean, the water only to her thighs. She’s staring at the sunset and it’s not even hurting her eyes. They walk over to her, not caring about getting wet, and they stand next to her. They look at her beautiful face and see tears streaking down her cheeks. They move their hand to wipe them away and she closes her eyes at the comfort.

“This...this is where Hades proposed to me, you know?” Her voice is shaky and sounds a little distant but they push through and listen to her, like they should have done before. “It’s beautiful here.” They looked at the sunset and it truly was beautiful. If they were to propose to her, they would do it here as well. “We were so happy,” she said, voice getting quieter with every word. Alex knew she truly loved Hades and they knew Hades loved her, and so they can’t understand why he wouldn’t fight for her. Was it fear? Cowardly? Shame? They don’t know, but they can see why she’s in pain. They don’t know what to say to that, anger rising in their chest from all of this mess. They heard the water swish and looked back at MC to see her turning to face them. “Alex...I’m so sorry.”

More tears slipped from her eyes and their eyes became blurry from their own tears. “I was so in love, but was I blinded? Was I an idiot to not see this coming? Why would he do this?” Her questions weren’t directed at Alex, she doesn’t even know who she wanted to ask. Alex would grab her hand and hate how cold it was. She looked down at their hands and saw how Alex’s grip was tight, but gentle. “Why?” Alex was confused for a moment. “Why what?” Her hand began to shake. “Why are you here? Comforting me. Why? I destroyed your family! I got rid of everything you care for.” She didn’t look back up at them, she was scared to look up at them. She loves them and they are family to her, and she has ruined that connection, there’s no doubt about it. However, Alex tilts her chin to make her look back at them.

“Because I love you. You were blinded by anger and I see why. The God’s did a terrible action, not a mistake. I disagree with your actions, yes, but I love you, MC.” Their words were rushed as well. MC finally looked back up at them and she was in shock. They love her? How did she not notice? She’s known Alex since they were both kids and knows Alex better than anyone else (other than their Mother and Nyela), so how did she not notice? “Alex...”. She didn’t know what else to say, so she only said the name of the last person she loves. “I’ve messed up. I’ve done something terrible. I’m gonna just end up in Tartarus and I see why,” she said with a small laugh at the end, even if they know it’s filled with sadness. “I went against everything I promised to never do. I always promised to forgive and help people, not do what they have done to me, but I’m just as bad as the Gods, Alex!” Her voice was now loud with despair.

She believed she was now just like the Gods, even without becoming the Goddess that’s resting under her skin. Well, that was resting under her skin. Alex shook their head. “MC, you did something terrible, but listen to me. You were angry, you were in despair, you didn’t know what to do, and the Gods have done worse. They have killed innocent people in the stories I’ve read so many times that I’ve lost count, and you weren’t going to let it happen again. It’s okay, MC. I promise.” MC still felt horrible, but to see Alex just...here and comforting her brought her a bit of peace. “And I’m angry too. I love Hades and my mother, but they would’ve done something I would never forgive. They would’ve killed my best friend, someone I love more than a best friend, someone I’ve known all my life, and someone I broke a promise to,” their voice got quieter with every word, but they know MC hears it by the way a smile comes to her lips and more tears fall from her eyes.

“Alex, I know why you did what you did, and I still love you.” They know she didn’t mean it in the way they did, but she smiled brighter at them and placed her hand on their cheek. “I don’t know what I feel. I love Hades still, even after what he’s done, but my feelings...are changing? They’re weird, Alex,” she laughed at the end. “Feelings are extremely weird,” they said with a laugh as well. They needed to hear her laugh one more time, and they did. She then began to slowly fade away. She held out her pinky finger to Alex. “Will you pinky promise me that you’ll find me again? That we’ll find each other,” she said with a smile and a choked back sob. Memories rushed back to both of them as kids and Alex and MC promising each other to be always be there for the other. That they’d love each other forever and help each other, and it brought tears to Alex’s eyes once again. Alex linked their pinky with hers and they both smiled at each other. How could they not promise it to her?

She then faded away and Alex was left to look at the sunset for a few more seconds before they woke up. The ache in their heart is even worse now, but they know she’s coming back. They know it. And they won’t let her face a fate such as this. Whether she ends up with them or not, their love for her will last an eternity, and they will use their divinity to protect her, because they failed her this time...

SO LIKE,,,THIS WASN’T AS GOOD AS I WANTED IT TO BE FIJKDS. I love this idea but I’m just terrible at writing it lol. And this is only version 1. I didn’t put them all together because then it’d be super long, so I’m gonna post 1 more post with this idea. It may contain the other 2 versions I have but I’m not sure. But anyways I hope you like this and cried like I did,,,

There is proof reading but sorry if there is mistakes or typos :(.

EDIT: ALSO MEG!! I’m going to @ you in that fic of Hades killing MC to help relieve her of the pain of becoming Hera (the idea I sent in your ask box awhile ago) bc I’m still crying over that idea,,,and I need someone to read it and cry with me-

#lovestruck #astoria fates kiss #Alex Cyprin #my writing #afk #god I love Alex #they're so amazing and literally love her SO MUCH. That they'd do a childish thing like pinky promise to her...because it brings her a bit #of peace and that's all they desire for her. This wasn't too close to the paranorman scene but I tried-#anyways yh love youuu💙#and as you know I haven't played Astraues (never will-) so if something seems out of character or anything forgive me-

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tyrannoninja · 3 years

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Mayhem at the Menagerie

Egypt, 1345 BC

I crouched at the edge of our woven papyrus raft and peered down at the dark green-blue water, harpoon in hand. Along the river’s edge near the reeds, there drifted a plump tilapia almost two feet long. I licked my lips at the thought of chowing down on its succulent flesh. The fish would feed both Nebet and I for at least one day, if not two.

I stabbed at the tilapia. It escaped by darting over to the reeds, where it vanished. Under my breath, I cursed Sutekh’s mischief for hexing my aim yet again. The aardvark-faced Lord of Chaos had caused me nothing but grief and disappointment since we had set out on the day’s expedition early in the morning.

Nebet, my niece of ten years, held up a line of rope with a hook, a tiny morsel of mutton affixed to it. “You sure you don’t want to use the lure, Aunt Takhi?”

I gave her a half-serious scowl while accepting her lure with a grumble. I would always protect the child with my life, but I had to admit that she had grown into quite the smart mouth over the last few years.

I plopped the hook into the water. “I must have underestimated how rusted my fishing skills have grown. When I was your age, Nebet, I would put all the boys to shame at this.”

“Maybe find yourself a man who would do the fishing for you?” Nebet asked. “There should be plenty to go around, and most of them seem to like you.”

I raised my eyebrow. “How would you know that?”

“Whenever you go by, they always seem to look at you twice. And you know that old Vizier Ay from way back? I remember he sounded like he wanted you for himself.”

The memory of that shriveled husk of a man, that lecherous lackey of the false Pharaoh, flooded the inside of my mouth with a sour flavor. The passage of five years since we last crossed paths had not softened my distaste for him and his minions. I would sooner swim with crocodiles than occupy the same room as him.

“You have seen much more than any child your age should see, my little niece,” I said. “As far as men are concerned, the problem I have isn’t that I can’t attract any. If anything, they like me more than I like any of them.”

“Then maybe you like women more, Aunt Takhi?” Nebet said. “Maybe you could have another woman in place of a man?”

I rolled my eyes with a laugh. “No, no, I prefer men in the way you mean. It is only that I haven’t found a man worthy of our house. Maybe I should consult the priestesses of Hetheru. They might know why.”

For most of my life, it was Sekhmet I served more than any of the other old gods or goddesses. Yet the stories held that Sekhmet, she of the lion mask and blood-stained gown, was in truth another guise of the loving bovine Hetheru. Perhaps calling upon my patron goddess would convince her to shift forms and answer my prayer for love.

“I thought there weren’t any more priestesses of Hetheru?” Nebet said. “The Pharaoh shut all their temples down long ago. Don’t you remember?”

She was right. Too often, my mind drifted back to the better days of my youth, before the false Pharaoh assumed the throne and desecrated everything his righteous father had built and maintained. I had to return to the present, not think too much of the past or future, and get back to fishing.

I checked our hook beneath the water’s surface. The bait had disappeared, yet there was no fish attached. They must have figured how to bite off the meat without getting themselves caught. How foolish I had been to let myself get distracted!

A wave rocked our raft from the side. Over by the far bank, a man screamed while splashing and thrashing his arms in the air. Zipping through the water towards him was the bumpy, olive-brown wedge of a crocodile’s head.

I told Nebet to watch the raft and dove in. Moving my arms in sweeping arcs while kicking my legs behind me, I propelled myself through the warm and murky river after the struggling man. The current kept pulling him away from me, and the crocodile advanced with greater speed.

Another splash. A cloud of blood stung my eyes under the water’s surface. The crocodile seized the man’s arm and pulled him deeper into the river. I took a deep breath and swam after the reptile, whipping out my bronze dagger from the sash around my loincloth. The beast’s swishing tail kept pushing me back with stirs of the current.

I could not catch up to the crocodile, no matter how much I pushed myself through the water.

I had to attack from afar. I threw my dagger into the crocodile’s neck. It released the man in its recoil, and I scooped up the man in my arms. He weighed more than me, but I wasted no time hauling him back to the surface.

Suddenly, sharp teeth pierced my calves. The crocodile dragged me into the depths, stretching the muscles of my leg with every shake of its head. I rammed my other heel into its snout, to no avail.

Then something shot into the space between the crocodile’s eyes. After its jaws released me, it fell limp into the darkness below, the narrow shaft of a harpoon sticking out through the blood that jetted from its wounds. In the distance, the enlarging silhouettes of more crocodiles emerged, all closing in on their injured neighbor. As I made my way to the surface, I could hear their ravenous chomping amidst the gurgle of water.

Once I resurfaced, I found our raft floating right next to me in the middle of the river. “Did you throw that harpoon, Nebet?”

She shook her head. “That would be him.”

The man I had rescued lent his hand to pull me onto the raft. His coppery skin, more typical of the provinces of Lower Egypt much further downriver, contrasted with my own dark umber color by a couple of shades.

“I owe you everything I have for saving my life over there,” he said with a subtle Lower Egyptian drawl.

I wrung the water out of my dreadlocks. “The same for you. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“You guessed correctly, my girl. My family’s from the countryside near Djedet. Matter of fact, I’ve been up here at Waset for, what, only since the last inundation?”

He ran his hand over his shaven scalp and smiled at me with full lips between his moustache and short beard. I had to admit that he was somewhat handsome in a trim and lean way. Judging by the way he ran his eyes along the contours of my figure, he seemed more interested in my own good looks.

“Sorry, forgot to introduce myself,” the man said. “Call me Nenwef. And you are…?”

“Takhaet. And this would be my niece, Nebet. I had to take her in after her parents, well, got into some trouble with the Pharaoh.”

“Takhaet, you say? I’ve heard of you somewhere before. Yes, you were one of the last Pharaoh’s favorite warriors!”

I grinned as I stroked one of the gold fly medals attached to my necklace. “Those were the good times. If only our new Pharaoh would find as much for me to do.”

“Tell me about it. He seems so preoccupied with that whole new god of his that he’s left everything else to the jackals. Which, come to speak of it, is why I left Djedet for Upper Egypt. You’ve heard the whole Delta’s been overrun with pirates and bandits, haven’t you?”

“By the gods, no! Has it gotten that bad down there?”

Nenwef gave me a grim frown. “Believe me, girl, that’s putting it mildly. Some of them come from all around the Great Green Sea, such as the Canaanites, the Greeks, and these newcomer barbarians they call the Sea Peoples. The saddest thing, however, is that some of our people have been going pirate as well, either due to bad influences or simply to make ends meet. Wherever they’re from, they’re all turning Lower Egypt into a mess worse than a den of ravenous hyenas.”

“Excuse me, Nenwef, but what were you doing in the middle of the river, anyway?” Nebet asked.

“Oh, I was out catching some fowls for my evening meal. Then I bumped into some ornery hippos… and you know the rest.”

Along the far riverbank, I spotted a distant herd of hippopotami milling about in the water. Yet I could not make out anything that looked like a capsized raft. Perhaps the gluttonous brutes had eaten the reeds that made up its body.

“I should have a few ducklings stored at my place,” I said. “You’ll be welcome to spend the evening there. Tomorrow, we’ll row you back home.”

Nenwef bowed to me. “Thank you very much again, my lovely lady.”

I felt a warm flush in my cheeks. Behind me, I could hear Nebet’s giddy snickering.

We did not dine on anything grand for our evening meal. I simply warmed up some of the ducklings I had stored, along with a bowlful of bread, in my front yard oven. I took these and three cups of frothy beer on a platter to our hut’s flat thatched roof, where Nebet sat in watch while Nenwef rested on my wooden bed. Blood-stained linen bandages covered the area on his arm where the crocodile had bitten him.

I laid the platter by the bed. He plucked up a duckling with his good arm and bit into it. “Not bad. Almost as good as the ones my old mother would cook when I was a boy.”

I prodded my elbow into his ribs. “Almost as good?”

“Don’t feel ashamed. Not many could even compare to her cooking.”

“Her birds were hand-caught, I presume? Because I bought these at the marketplace a couple of days ago. Small wonder they’d be a step down from whatever your mother could fix.”

Nebet was already polishing off her duckling’s bones. “I bet my mother could cook even better than yours.”

Nenwef laughed. “I’m sure she’d be flattered to hear that, but there couldn’t be any contest between them, believe me.”

“Nor should there be,” I added.

Nenwef got off the bed to stand up and gaze at the surrounding village of huts, dirt roads, and palm and sycamore fig trees planted between the buildings. When he faced the Nile to the west, its waters shimmering in gold from the sunset, he beamed with a contented sigh. He pointed to some alabaster-white structures rising from the treetops beyond the river’s farthest bank. “You can see the old Pharaoh’s palace across the river from here, you know? If only we had such lovely views back near Djedet.”

“It’s all flat swampland outside that city, isn’t it?” I asked. “Though I hear it is quite lush regardless.”

“I suppose it is.”

Nenwef directed his eyes to my necklace of gold flies. “I don’t know if it’s true, but word on the street around here says that you, O Takhaet, fended off a whole pride of lions once. Or was it leopards?”

The breeze blowing over my village, once balmy, had turned cold as midnight. How had he even heard of that incident five years ago? “It…was both. There were only three of them, and they were each a cross between lion and leopard.”

“I see. And they also said you sent a whole herd of gazelles stampeding over the Pharaoh’s men when they were out to arrest you for heresy.”

“That’s true as well. In fact, I later sent those lion/leopard cats after them, too. But how do you know about all that? Ay promised me he’d cover the whole affair up.”

With a sly smirk, Nenwef shook his head. “Oh, I didn’t have to hear it straight from the Vizier. Like I said, it was word on the street.”

I remembered that my whole village had celebrated our act of rebellion against Akhenaten’s henchmen with jubilant drumming and dancing, the roasting of cattle and game, and everyone chanting in praise of Sekhmet. The battle roar I let out in her honor rang within my ears again. I should have known the people of my village would recall that occasion with the same vivid colors.

“Whatever way I came to hear of it, those have to be the most amazing feats I’ve ever heard of,” Nenwef said. “So amazing, indeed, that they’ve inspired me to stand up to the false Pharaoh’s tyranny myself. He can’t go on lazing in that shining new palace of his while the rest of Egypt breaks down with barbarians at its gates. No, I intend to march in there and give him a piece of my own mind!”

I spat out the beer I had imbibed. “You don’t expect he would even let you set a single foot in his great house, do you?”

“He is supposed be Pharaoh, the steward of Upper and Lower Egypt, is he not? He has no choice but to listen to his people at some point, even if what they’re telling him isn’t what he wants to hear. You expect me to do nothing while he lets raping thieves tear my home province apart?”

“No, of course not! What I do expect, however, is that he’ll have you thrown out. Maybe fed to his lions, or whatever he keeps in his little menagerie.”

Nenwef laid a hand on my shoulder with a grin. “Which is where you’ll come in, my girl. Why don’t we persuade him together? His best guards couldn’t restrain a seasoned warrior like you even if they tried.”

I dropped my cup of beer onto the thatching below. “No. Out the question. I can’t leave Nebet here all alone while I go off with you.”

Nebet looked up at me with sparkling eyes, wringing her fingers together. “Then why not bring me with you, Aunt Takhi? I’ve always wanted to see what the Pharaoh’s new capital looks like. I heard it’s magnificent.”

“I heard that too, but you should know it’s all been built on the backs of starving men, women, and even children your age,” I said. “And I would never dare let either Akhenaten or his slavering pack of jackals near you. You should stay where you’ll be safe, little baboon.”

“I wouldn’t assume she would be in danger,” Nenwef said. “Akhenaten might be cruel, but even he should know that hurting a child for the world to see would turn all his subjects against him. Not to mention, he goes out of his way to present himself as doting on his own young.”

“So you think that means he’ll have mercy on the children of his enemies, too?”

“What I mean is, we could use your niece’s presence to temper his wrath. I say bring her along with us. Together, we can convince Pharaoh of the error of his ways.”

He curled his hand into a fist and nodded. “Do we have a deal, Takhaet?”

“You mean all the error of his ways, or simply the error affecting your province back in Lower Egypt?” I asked.

“All his ways, trust me.”

With a shrug, I bumped his fist. “Then we have a deal.”

Nebet clapped her hands. “Yay! I get to see the Pharaoh’s new city after all.”

I gave her puffs of fluffy hair a playful scratch. “And maybe help change the course of his rule for all history to record.”

The sun had only begun to sail up from the east when we walked off the ferry onto the dock, yet the towering entrance to Akhenaten’s new capital blasted us with the brilliant glow of walls a purer white than the limestone casing of the ancient pyramids. Inscribed on each side of the entrance were the painted likenesses of the Pharaoh and his Queen receiving the gold-handed rays of his god Aten with open hands. Flanking them were the relatively miniature figures of their children.

Nenwef hadn’t lied when he said Akhenaten wanted to present himself as benevolent towards his own family. Perhaps he was. Yet the knowledge that the false Pharaoh had conscripted whole gangs of youths and children, some no older than my little niece, to build his new home had dimmed the luster of the architecture.

From beside the entrance’s doorway, two royal guards marched towards us. One of them bowed his head to Nenwef, who whispered something into the man’s ear. I thought that little exchange strange for a native of Lower Egypt who claimed to be a newcomer to all the upriver provinces.

“Welcome to Akhetaten, our new capital,” Nenwef said. “I was, uh, telling the guard that we wanted an audience with the Pharaoh.”

“Will we get to see the menagerie soon after?” Nebet asked.

Nenwef winked at her. “Soon, little one. Very, very soon afterward.”

The guard displayed a cheerful smile full of radiant white teeth. “We’ll be very happy to give you a tour of Akhetaten in all its glory, my lady. First, however, the Pharaoh requests your presence in the Temple to Aten. Follow us.”

The guard’s singsong chime with made me shudder with a chill despite the morning’s rising warmth. Nor did I care for the name Akhenaten had chosen for his new abode. It sounded too much like his own name, except for a hard “t” in place of the “n”. He could only have intended that similarity.

We followed the guards through the entrance and a series of white-walled plazas and alleyways, all shaded with rows of columns and stands of trees and flowers that flooded the place with a natural fragrance. Even the tiled floors dazzled with a smooth polish unmarred by the dirt or grime of a normal city street. Did Akhenaten have his legion of servants wash the entire city every evening? Not even Amenhotep the Third, his nobler father and predecessor on the throne, would be so meticulous in keeping everything in his capital so clean.

Unless, of course, this whole city was nothing more than an overgrown palace for the false Pharaoh, rather than a place for people from all walks of life to call home.

We walked down an avenue bordered on both sides by a row of sphinxes watching us with stoic silence as we passed them. At the end was the entrance to the Temple of Aten, an edifice twice as tall as the city entrance we passed through earlier. Images of Aten, portrayed as a golden disk shooting down dozens of arms like a monstrous corruption of an octopus from the Great Green’s waters, adorned the temple gateway’s left and right sides. So this was the face of the false god Akhenaten wanted to force upon all of Egypt, instead of the gods we had always venerated!

We entered the temple and a broad, open courtyard fringed with palm and acacia trees. At its center stood none other than the Pharaoh himself, together with his Queen, Nefertiti.

Akhenaten did not appear much like his statues and wall reliefs. They showed him as a tall and lean man, albeit with a strange paunch on his belly like a pregnant woman’s womb. The man who stood before us, arms crossed and holding the royal crook and flail, was a stout bulb whose enormous gut glistened with oil like a ball of grease-stained mahogany. A devious grin spread across his pudgy face when he laid his beady eyes on me.

His Queen looked closer to my expectation. She was a slender woman with gleaming dark chestnut skin and a tall blue crown like a cylinder, which flared out at the top. The woman stood a head taller than her husband. Behind them stood another, much lankier man with a dreadlocked wig much too black for his wrinkled date of a face. There was no mistaking his smug sneer as that of anyone other than Ay, the old Vizier himself.

Akhenaten spread his arms wide apart. “Welcome home, my soldier Rameses. I knew you’d catch what once eluded my Vizier.”

“And I have to say you dress like a quite convincing commoner,” Nefertiti said. “You could’ve fooled even me.”

The man I had known as Nenwef bowed at the waist before the Pharaoh. “It helped that I did use to be one, before Your Highness lifted me up from my poverty. Though, I must remind you to give some credit to old Ay. The trap was his design, remember?”

I wanted to draw out one of my daggers —except I left all of them at home. They would have confiscated any weapons on me anyway. I could only screech out the worst profanity that came to mind. “How could you, Ay? It’s been five years!”

Ay strutted to me with a vindictive cackle. “Five years was all the time I needed for you to lower your guard, young Takhaet. Or were you foolish enough to think those ‘concessions’ I made, right after your beastly friends had decimated my men, were sincere in the least?”

He handed a bronze sword to Rameses, who ran his finger over its blade with a satisfied look before pointing it at my gullet. “She sure was gullible enough to believe I was a poor and oppressed commoner seeking rebellion like herself, wasn’t she?” Rameses said.

I took one step back, and bumped into the guards’ cowhide shields behind me. “What do you want from me this time? Because I’d sooner die than throw away the gods of our ancestors in favor of yours, you false Pharaoh!”

Akhenaten clapped his hands. “I admire your heroic devotion to the old ways, my subject, but you misunderstand me this time. I don’t seek to change your faith, but that of the one closest to you.”

Nefertiti knelt before my niece and reached a finger to stroke the girl’s chin, but Nebet jerked away to huddle by my side.

“You have to admit, she looks like she’s grown up in poverty,” the Queen said. “And you’ve been raising her all by yourself, like a single mother in the slums. That’s no way for a child to grow up, is it?”

“You’re wrong, you mean lady,” Nebet said. “We’re not poor, and Aunt Takhi has taken better care of me than you ever could!”

“Aw, she thinks I’m a mean lady, does she? Maybe she’ll think differently when I take her in. Unlike you, Aunt Takhi, we can afford all kinds of toys for our children in our big and clean, comfortable home. We even have a whole menagerie of animals from all over the world right here in this city. Wouldn’t you like to see the chimpanzees at least, little girl?”

I drew my hand back to slap the Queen, but Rameses grabbed my hand and pinned it against my body. The cold bronze tips of the guards’ spears dug into the nape of my neck.

“That isn’t going to work, bitch!” I said. “You can try to manipulate her all you want, but nothing you have to offer could ever replace her love for me. Or her mother, or her father. What happened to them, may I ask?”

“They…were every bit as unrepentant as you,” Akhenaten said. “So, I had to address them the only way I could. You need to understand, my subject, that I cannot allow a single voice of dissent to remain if I am to realize my vision for Egypt. If I do, who knows how many dozens might hear that voice? And whom might those dozens speak to in turn? You see how it could lead to my eventual undoing?”

“You would have nothing to fear were you a just ruler, Akhenaten.”

“Ah, but I do see myself as a just ruler. A ruler so just that he wishes to usher in a new age for our civilization, instead of clinging onto the obsolete traditions of our ancestors like cowardly children. Since you, on the other hand, have demonstrated time and time again that nothing I can do can change your mind, I have no choice but to eliminate you.”

“And I know precisely how you should do it,” Rameses added. “Credit where it’s due, this woman did save my life from a crocodile while I was in the river. Let us see how she fares against a whole float of them.”

Nebet tightened her arms on me. “No! How could you do that to her? Leave my Aunt Takhi alone!”

Nefertiti pounced and dragged her into her embrace. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to watch. Like I promised, I’ll take good care of—”

She shrieked as Nebet bit down on her arm. “Why, you little… Let’s see, should I feed you to the chimpanzees, or throw you down into the crocodiles with your aunt instead? I say, the latter sounds more fitting a punishment to me. Wouldn’t you say, Rameses?”

“Agreed. If they love each other as much as they claim, why don’t we watch them die together?”

Everyone around Nebet and I laughed like hyenas on the hunt. Even more so than Akhenaten or the rest of his clique combined, Rameses’ laughter made my legs buckle.

The guards did not withdraw their spears from my neck until they had escorted me into the city’s menagerie. Fences of bronze atop mudbrick foundations enclosed the animals’ living spaces, each of which contained trees, rocks, and at least one waterhole for drinking. I did appreciate that these pens resembled their animals’ native habitats to one extent or another. The hippos got a pool framed with papyrus and tall grass, the lions an expanse of sand and grass with a couple of acacia trees, and the chimpanzees a grove of fig and palm trees like their jungle home in Egypt’s far south.

Akhenaten took better care of his exotic pets than he did his human subjects.

We stopped at another pool. Unlike the hippopotamus pool, the bones of fish, goats, and cattle were strewn around scattered islets of stone, exuding an even more rancid odor than the musty one that rose from the still water. Over the edges of the pool swayed slender eucalyptus trees with white bark that seemed to be peeling off.

“These wouldn’t be like the crocodiles we have over in the Nile, mind you,” Rameses said. “We brought these over from a land very far away to the southeast. They can thrive even in seawater, hence why the natives call them ‘saltwater crocodiles’, or ‘salties’ for short. Aren’t they all beauties?”

I could only see the top of one crocodile’s head poking up from the opaque, muddy water. Even from a distance, it appeared nearly twice as big as the one from which I had saved “Nenwef”. I gulped down a mouthful of air.

“I think they need something to bring them out of hiding,” Nefertiti said. “How about feeding time?”

With a rocking swing of her arms, she tossed Nebet into the pool. I tore away from the guards, hurdled over the fence, and plunged myself into the water. It was deeper than I had anticipated; my entire body sank beneath the surface. Unlike the Nile a few days earlier, I could not see much more than a forearm’s span through the briny murk.

What I did make out was the shrill sound of a child’s scream. I breast-stroked through the pool to the source of the outcry, where the most gigantic crocodile I had ever seen clutched Nebet within its jaws. I threw my arms onto its neck and squeezed, pushing myself against the monster’s tremendous weight.

Another crocodile clamped onto the fringe of my loincloth. I hammered my sandal’s heel into the hinge of its jaw while still shoving myself against the first one. The second crocodile withdrew, a rip of linen in its mouth. Thus freed, I wrapped my legs around the first crocodile’s waist and turned it over onto its back. Flung out of its mouth, Nebet squealed with terror. I swam for her, but another crocodile blocked my way. The other two closed from behind, jaws agape with the stink of rotten flesh wafting out. Grabbing onto the third crocodile’s flank, I leapfrogged over it to Nebet.

A fourth crocodile seized her foot. After punching it in the eye, I inserted my fingers between its front teeth and pulled onto its jaws. I could only pry them open enough to release my niece’s foot before the beast shoved me back with a thrust of its snout. My back smashed against yet another monster’s jagged hide.

The crocodiles had surrounded and locked us in a tight circle of scaled flesh and snapping jaws. Nebet and I had no way to get around them.

We could only go one way. Down.

I hugged Nebet close to me and told her to take a deep breath. Together, we dove straight down into the pool’s salty muck, beneath the crocodiles’ pale bellies. Some of their brethren had already submerged and given chase, their jaws chomping mere inches from our toes.

One of the reptiles slapped us into a column of rock with its tail as it came out in front. It spun around and zoomed in, jaws agape, the cavernous black hole of its gullet wide open before us. As it approached, our lungs were drained of air.

I sank myself beneath the crocodile and shot my fist up into its chin.

We hurried to the surface, gulped in more air, and held onto the stony pillar’s summit, still gasping. The rest of the crocodiles slashed through the water after us as Nebet pointed to one of the eucalyptus trees standing on the reedy bank. “Can’t we climb those, Aunt Takhi?”

I nodded with relief. “Good thinking, little baboon!”

I kicked off from the rock to the pool’s edge, crawled up from the mud and wrapped myself around the nearest tree. Holding Nebet on my back, I clambered up the trunk, ignoring the way its shedding bark poked at my skin.

The tree shook. The crocodiles had gathered by its roots and were beating their heads against its trunk like woodcutters’ hatchets. One of them sprang up and tore my sandal off, forcing me to slip halfway back down. Right beneath my belly, the bole began to split.

The crocodiles kept leaping after us, their weight further knocking onto the tree with every fall. The instant the eucalyptus broke asunder at the waist, we jumped — and landed outside the pool.

The two guards stood over us, the tips of their spears hovering.

“Very impressive performance, I must say,” Akhenaten said. “I should’ve known not to have those trees planted there.”

I coughed out a puddle of salty mud. “At least you made those saltwater crocodiles feel more at home, I presume.”

Rameses drew out his sword, his face dark with a reddish tint of rage. “Since you eluded our crocodiles, you and your little brat will have to go the old-fashioned way!”

He chopped down. I rolled out of the blade’s way, hopped onto my feet, and yanked the spear out of one of the guards’ hands. With its shaft, I whacked Rameses’s ribcage and sent him tumbling into the crocodile pool. This time, I felt no impulse whatsoever to save him while the reptiles ganged up and bit him into pieces. The clamor of rent flesh and cracking bone became triumphant music to my ears.

Akhenaten pointed his flail at me. “Don’t think you can escape this time, my cunning leopard. Get her!”

The two guards charged, one with his spear as the other pulled out his dagger sidearm. I used the guard’s spear to pole-vault away, and then chucked it into its former owner’s face. The second guard threw his spear at me, but I escaped with a sidestep and retrieved it, too.

The surviving guard snarled. “You think you’re so clever, girl? Two can play that game!”

He threw his dagger at me. I raised the spear to parry it, but it split in two when the blade hit. As he pulled the other spear out from his fallen comrade’s skull, I sprinted and pounced towards him. The guard swatted me away in mid-arc, and I tumbled over the fence into another enclosure.

It was another forested pen, but it was not chimpanzees that awaited me inside. Instead, there dashed a stocky cat bigger than any lion I had seen, but without a mane. The black stripes running up and down its deep orange coat blended into the shadows cast by the trees and tall grass. It bared its fangs, its roar harsher and more spine-rattling than anything I had ever heard from a lion.

Nefertiti taunted me from outside the enclosure. She held a squirming Nebet in her arms, a hand pressed over the child’s mouth. “They call that a tiger over in the distant east. While he’s giving you trouble, I’m sure the chimpanzees will adore your feisty little niece as much as I do!”

I shouted my nastiest curse at her and lunged in her direction. The tiger’s claws cut across my back, and I stumbled onto my knees. The cat crouched down behind me, twitching its tail like a housecat about to pounce again. I wheeled around and waved my spear’s severed head in front of my face as a warning to the predator. It launched itself at me, but I somersaulted underneath it and stabbed it in the hip. Under my breath, I begged Sekhmet’s forgiveness for wounding one of her feline children.

I grabbed the branch of a fig tree and swung out of the tiger pen, landing on the remaining guard and knocking him out with a bang of my elbow.

Nefertiti had already reached the chimpanzees and was stretching her arms over the fencing with Nebet in hand. After hollering the battle roar of Sekhmet, I raced over and threw my weight onto her. I hooked an arm around the Queen’s neck, snatched her crown off her head, and tossed it into the enclosure.

One of the chimpanzees, who had been banging rocks together, picked up the blue crown to examine it. The ape hit it with one of the stones, denting the metal, and shook its head in seeming disappointment. Its face lit up again with a smile as it placed the crown top-first on the ground and sat on the lid like it was a stool. Nebet chuckled with girlish delight the same moment the whiff of feces hit my nostrils.

Nefertiti growled with disgust. “That is one vile child you have there, Takhaet!”

I smirked at her, still holding her neck in my arm. “You’re one to talk about others being vile, my Queen.”

Ay and Akhenaten stormed towards me, the Pharaoh brandishing his crook and flail like twin war clubs. “You know I have plenty more guards where those two came, commoner,” Akhenaten said.

I applied more pressure to Nefertiti’s throat. “Let’s see if they can get here before I choke the life out of this bitch you call your Queen!”

The Pharaoh’s eyes widened with horror. “Stop! What do you want?”

“Simple. Pardon my niece and I right now, and the Queen lives. Got it?”

“Fine. I shall clear both of your sentences…on one additional condition. You and your niece must leave Egypt forever. If we catch you returning thereafter, I’ll have you both thrown to the crocodiles. And by then, I’ll have all the trees in that pen cut down. You understand?”

I relaxed my grip on Nefertiti, to carry out my end of the deal. And something else. All my life, I had fought on behalf of my country and its beliefs, even if it meant defying the false Pharaoh once he had taken power. And, as a child of Egypt, were I to die without a proper burial away from its shores, I would never reunite with my ancestors in the afterlife. Instead, I would face an eternity of oblivion.

Even worse, my little Nebet would experience the same.

Nebet knelt before the Pharaoh and whimpered. “No, you can’t make us leave. Egypt has always been our home!” she pleased.

Akhenaten shook his head and pressed the top of his crook onto the girl’s head. “I am Pharaoh, he who commands all of Upper and Lower Egypt. I have already granted you and your aunt the permission to live. Consider your citizenship the price.”

Ay smiled with fiendish glee. “And why not? You didn’t think we would surrender everything to you with such ease, did you?”

As much as I wanted to jump onto the old jackal and hammer out what remained of his pathetic life, I knew he was right. Akhenaten had a whole force of guards he could summon within one pulse of my heart, not to mention his regular army. I could evade and fight back as much as I wanted, but I could never defeat him alone. Not while keeping my niece out of harm’s way.

I knelt in front of the false Pharaoh, drooping my head with a defeated sigh. “I accept your sentence, Your Majesty.”

Akhenaten nodded with a victorious grin. “Excellent. I’ll give you a month to pack up your belongings and then see you at the border, wherever you choose to go. May Aten bless you with good fortune the rest of your life.”

“And may he watch over your child as well,” Nefertiti added.

I dipped my head to them. “I will pray every day that he will, O Pharaoh and Queen.”

I lied. I had no intention of even muttering his false demon’s name again. If there was one thing I would never concede to Akhenaten, it was my faith in the gods of our ancestors.

Nebet ran up to bury her glistening tear-washed face into me. “You can’t do this, Aunt Takhi. We can’t leave home forever.”

I lifted her up in my embrace and stroked her hair. “I’m afraid we have no choice, my little baboon. But it may not be all that bad. If nothing else, we’ll spend the rest of our lives seeing the world together.”

I knew not where we would go. We might venture up the Nile south of the Kushite provinces, into the savannas and jungles and the many kingdoms therein. Or we might sail for the east, visiting the ziggurats of Babylonia, the temples and sacred wells of the Indus Valley, or the burgeoning cities of distant China. We might even head north to the rocky isles of the Greeks and Minoans, or even further into the snowy forests where tribes of red- and yellow-maned, white-skinned men prowled.

All I knew was that we could not remain in Egypt any longer. And that, wherever we did go, Nebet and I would always have each other.

As I walked away from the menagerie, heading for the city’s docks, I gave my niece a wink and a whisper. “It may not all be lost. Maybe we could, say, persuade someone abroad to take Egypt back for us. What say you, my little baboon?”

#Takhaet #short story #short fiction #fiction #writing #historical fiction #ancient egypt #egyptian #kemet #african #black woman #black people #poc #woc #woman of color #original characters #ocs #Akhenaten #Nefertiti

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victory-cookies · 5 years

Note

Schneep testing a new serum for jackieboy -only for it to spill on him,! The next day, the doc wakes up with superhuman strength, the ability to fly and turn invisible, etc.!!

A/N: Hey wassup I finally finished! This got a bit longer than I expected, but I was trying to keep it to a one-shot bc another series rn would be far too much. Also, hope you don't mind, but I took a few liberties with the prompt (changed flight to teleportation, changed the next day to right after, and brought Marv in bc why the fuck not, he's a good source for this magic shit) Anyway, enjoy.

"So you are saying that this will make Jackie have more power?" Schneep asked, swirling the bottle he was holding around slowly. He inspected the glowing liquid with intrigue, eyebrows raising as the light flickered across his face.

Marv nodded. “Theoretically… I’ve only dealt in serums like these a few times, but if I’m correct, you can administer this to Jackie and it’ll amp up his powers.” He paused. “Just be careful with it, Hen. Shit like this is unpredictable sometimes. Make sure not overdose him on it… too much magic in an unprepared vessel can be really dangerous... and to be honest, I'm not even one-hundred percent sure I know what this does, so, uh, stay safe with it..."

Henrik nodded and set the bottle down on the counter beside him. “Will do, Marvin. I will prepare it for him right now. Safely, of course.”

“Cool. See you later, Schneep.” Then, with a swish of his cape, the magician disappeared.

Henrik picked the serum back up and flicked the glass. Pursing his lips, he turned around, eyes scanning the room. He need a syringe… where did he put them? Damn JJ telling him to reorganize the lab… He set the glass back down and opened the cupboard below the counter. To his relief, there were a few sitting on one of the shelves. He bent down, grabbed one quickly, and went to stand back up.

“Ah!” he exclaimed as his head hit the edge of the counter. Groaning, he rubbed the now-aching back of his skull and sighed, but then took a sharp breath as he felt something cold and wet drip down onto his hand and neck.

He shot back up to see the bottle of glowing serum knocked over and slowly seeping out onto and off of the counter… and when he glanced at his hand, it was clear where the dripping liquid had ended up.

“Scheiße…” he whispered, righting the bottle and quickly rushing over to the sink to wash the glowing residue off of his hand, which seemed to be quickly disappearing.

That wasn’t good.

He ran his contaminated hand under the water for a minute, using the other to try to wipe off his neck, but it was of no use. The serum was already gone.

Schneep hissed in worry and collapsed into his nearby chair. “Nun, das ist nicht gut,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Sehr nicht gut…”

He sat there for a minute, trying to tell if Marv's special serum had affected him in any way... it didn't seem like it... he felt the same as he always did. Maybe it had just evaporated very quickly, and therefore had no effect on him! That seemed about right! Rubbing his eyes, he tried to ignore the pit growing in his stomach. He'd be fine... right?

He stood up slowly, shrugging. "Jackie!" he yelled. "Come here! It is time to try out the new serum!"

After a second, a muffled "okay!" drifted up from downstairs.

Schneep sighed walked back over to the counter where the bottle and syringe were sitting. He reached out to grab the syringe, but halted as he was hit by a sudden head rush. His vision swam, and he stumbled forward, arms shooting out to catch himself on the countertop. When he glanced down, though, he couldn't see them. "Was zum..." he thought sluggishly. His brows furrowed and he blinked rapidly as the fuzz in his head began to clear, and suddenly his arms were back. He shook his head dumbfoundedly. Behind him, he heard click of a door opening, and he turned around.

"Hey Schne— oh, you okay, dude? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Jackie commented, walking into the lab.

"I am fine," Schneep replied pointedly, turning back around again to grab the syringe. "Have a seat, my friend. I am just preparing Marvin's serum for you now."

Jackie nodded and took a seat. Schneep continued to ready the serum, pulling a small dose into the syringe before setting it back down onto the counter.

He turned around. "Let me just grab something to disinfect with," he muttered, hurrying across the room to find some rubbing alcohol. "Hmm, where did I— AH!"

Another head rush filled the doctor's mind with cotton, but this time it sent a shock of pain shooting behind his eyes. He cried out and stumbled into the nearby filing cabinet, gripping the top of it tightly and hissing in pain.

"Schneep! Are you alright?" Jackie shouted, quickly standing up. He began to run over to where Henrik was standing, but stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a loud groaning noise. His eyes widened as he realized where it was coming from.

Schneep's fingers were digging into the top of the filing cabinet, eliciting a horrible grinding noise as the doctor continued to squeeze the metal tighter and tighter. His eyes were clenched shut, pain still laced within his temples. He began to shake slightly from the ache, and Jackie began to move closer to him again, concerned eyes pinned on the indented metal.

"Schneep, what's going o—" the hero began, but the last word died on his lips as he took in Henrik's shivering form. With every shudder, the younger ego was flickering in and out of sight. "Henrik?"

The fluff in Schneep's mind began to clear. He stumbled backwards, confusion filling his eyes as he noticed the bent metal he had just been hanging onto.

Jackie grabbed onto his shoulders, spinning him around. "Schneep, talk to me! What's going on!?"

Henrik cringed away in fear. "I do not know, Jackie! Something— I think that something is wrong with me! Do not touch me, Jackie! What if I hurt you!?"

Jackie shook Henrik's shoulders. "You're not gonna hurt—" he began, but suddenly Schneep had disappeared from his grip, and was standing against the back wall on the far side of the room. "How did you...?"

Schneep shook his head worriedly. "I— I do not know, but you must stay back... I don't want to hurt you on an accident... something is wrong with me, Jackie."

Jackie took a step towards him. "Schneep—"

"No!"

And with that, Jackie was alone in the room.

#VicFic #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #fanfiction #henrik von schneeplestein #jackieboyman #Marvin the magificent #Vic's favourite trope #this was fun #enjoy

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frickfrackjimin · 6 years

Text

Whiskey on Ice

⇻ Meeting Jungkook at an award show after party leaves a bigger impression on you than you wish to admit.

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Idol!reader Genre: Slight smut (Like, if you really, really squint. Basically just my first attempt at trying to write a make out session in detail bc I suck at writing smut :/ lol) Words: 4.8k Inspired by: “Gorgeous” by Taylor Swift; “Delicate” by Taylor Swift; “Sex” by the 1975 Warnings: Mild language, mentioning of alcohol, mentioning of drugs

You were drunk. So, so drunk.

The drink in your hand was your fifth of the night, something that your cousin, Aura, ordered for you originally. You had no idea what the contents of the drink were, only that it was bright blue and sweet and that you couldn’t get enough of it.

You were enjoying yourself on the dance floor of the club you were at. The bass was pulsing throughout the building as strobe lights lit up during the build up to the bass drop of the EDM songs playing. You could feel yourself letting loose and enjoying yourself for the first time since your ex-boyfriend,Youngjin, pulled that whole stunt last month. You pushed off every guy that tried to dance on you; Youngjin may have been an asshole, but you were positive you did not want to hook up with a stranger in an attempt to get over him. You didn’t understand how people could go home with someone they just met, and probably don’t even know the name of.

Aura approaches you on the dance floor, saying that she was leaving with someone. You look behind her shoulder at the man standing behind her. Did you know the guy? No. Did she know the guy? Probably not, which worried you. You tried following after her to tell her not to, especially since you did not know your way around that well and your phone was nearing 10%.

By the time you reached the front of the club, Aura and her mystery man were nowhere in sight. You yelled out for her, hoping that by chance she was within ears distance and would return to you. When she did not appear, you could feel the tears pricking at your eyes. Your phone is nearly dead; you have no idea where you are or how you are going to get home. What are you supposed to do?

In your drunken stupor, you felt someone grab your hand and start to pull you down the street.

“You know it’s not safe to be walking around the city this late at night by yourself,” a male voice speaks out. You could not see who he was since he was concealed by a dark hoodie. You felt a scream get caught in your throat but in your shock from the situation, could not seem to let it out.

A few seconds later, you both ended up in a run-down restaurant in the middle of the city.

After slumping down into a booth seat, you looked at your captor sitting across from you. Low and behold, it was Jeon Jungkook, in all his gorgeous glory.

A smug smirk sits on his face, fingers intertwined on the table. A grey beanie adorns his dark head of hair that stops at the nape of his neck. You can vaguely see the loop of his grey earrings peeking out from under his beanie. His hair is longer than you remember it being. Granted, it has been two months since you have last seen him. He has a black facemask pulled below his chin, revealing his face. A risky move, considering the fact that he is out in public in a city where someone could recognize him by his pinky finger.

You feel yourself staring at him. Shaking your head slightly, you break your eye contact and begin to look around the restaurant.

“Where are we?” is all you manage to sputter out.

“Not too far from where I found you,” he responds. A waitress appears at your table, putting down two glasses of water.

“You were at Club Zero?” you ask back. He did not look like he was dressed to go to a club. You took a sip out of the water glass in front of you.

“No, I was on my way home when I saw you. Who is Aura?”

“A stupid girl,” you mutter.

“A friend of yours?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“My cousin. She wanted to take me out, something about drinking away the breakup, or the bad publicity, or whatever the hell people are supposed to do when they get their ass chewed out by their famous ex-boyfriend on social media for the world to see,” you reply sarcastically.

It hits you that this is the first time you have spoken to him face to face. At the after party a few months ago, your interactions were brief, but left a mark on you nonetheless.

➵

You walked into the after party hand in hand with your boyfriend, Youngjin, his hand on the small of your back. The environment screamed an industry after party; a hell of a lot of alcohol, the strong smell of weed and whatever other drugs were being passed around, and a heavy beat playing. You saw a few familiar faces of various singers, producers, and even actors that were given access to the after party.

Youngjin and you approached the bar, him ordering a scotch on the rocks and yourself ordering a cosmopolitan. Even though you had just turned 19, the bartenders around here will start serving you at 16 if you are lucky enough to pass off as older. You never got into the drinking scene until you were around 18 like most people in the normal world; in this industry, however, it was practically unheard of.

“Hey _____! Congrats on your awards!” you hear from behind you. You turned around and greeted the face that met yours; Choonhee, a new breakout artist from this year and one of your closest friends.

“Thanks! You too girlie!” you congratulated back.

“Did you come here with Youngjin?” Choonhee asked.

"Of course-" you start, turning around to show that you indeed, did show up with boyfriend. You furrowed your brows in confusion when he was not standing behind you like he was thirty seconds ago. You looked around before realizing that Youngjin was nowhere close to you. Your eyes skimmed the darkened room before seeing him standing on the second floor talking to some men you didn’t recognize. They were more than likely other artists in his genre you didn’t know or producers. Youngjin was apart of the EDM industry and was always collaborating with people you had never heard of.

“Well, I guess he’s ditched me yet again. The big boys snatched him before I could grab ahold of him,” you chuckled, slightly annoyed.

“He’s always pulling shit like this, why are you still with him again?” Choonhee asked.

“I love him, that’s why,” you retorted.

“Right…” Choonhee replied again.

“Come on, stop with the negativity! Let’s celebrate! We are AWARD WINNERS!” you screamed, grabbing ahold of Choonhee’s wrist and throwing it up in the air with yours. The two of you cheered, grabbing little attention from the people around you since the music drowned out your cheers.

➵

It had been about an hour since Youngjin had ditched you for his little work buddies and honestly, you were having an amazing time! A hella amazing time, if you will!

Maybe it’s the fact that you were on your third cosmo, but all of your shyness that came from talking to strangers had flown out the window. You were approaching nearly everyone and starting a conversation about absolutely anything. Thankfully you were still aware of your surroundings and you were only tipsy so you didn’t make too much a fool out of yourself … you think.

You and Choonhee began to make your way to the second floor, drinks in hand. The VIP sections were located up there and you saw people like EXO, Super Junior, and Twice all popping bottles of champagne in celebration. They should all definitely be celebrating, they all went home with a shit ton of well-deserved awards that night.

You were looking around for Youngjin but instead, your eyes lock on a different pair of eyes. From far away and with the terrible lighting, you couldn't tell what color they were. You don’t immediately recognize who he is, but after seeing the people standing around him, you put together that he’s a member of BTS. You can’t remember which one specifically, maybe V? You honestly can’t remember any of them besides him right now.

Holy shit though, you wish you remembered that one’s name. Point blank, he was gorgeous. Suit pants and dress shirt, no suit jacket though. Loosened tie around his neck; rings on his fingers glistening as he swishes his glass in his hand. His dark brown hair is tousled in a way that makes it look like he just had sex, but is still put together.

You downed the rest of your drink, walking to the mini bar to order another one. You looked back over and saw him still staring at you. When you catch him this time though, he slowly turns away.

“Does you know the name of that guy in BTS over there?” you ask, resting your head in your hand as you wait for your drink.

“Which one?” Choonhee asks.

“The hot one,” you reply.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Okay seriously, the one in the tie with the dark hair. That’s not V is it? He dresses too plain to be V, from what I remember.”

“I think that’s… Jin maybe? Or Jungkook? No, it’s definitely Jungkook,” Choonhee confirms, also slightly tipsy.

“Well, that boy got me jungshook, that’s for sure,” you say, grabbing your drink as it’s handed to you.

“He’s hot as hell.”

Choonhee laughs at your bluntness. “Hey honey, don’t you have a boyfriend that you supposedly love?”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate art when it’s put in front of me,” you smirk. She gives you a worried look. “Oh come on, I’m just kidding. Let’s just go say hi. The worst that could happen is that they ignore our existence completely and I have to hide my face around them for the rest of our careers.”

Choonhee gives you a scared glance before following in step behind you.

Once you were in front of the group, you felt seven pairs of eyes on you and you were suddenly intimidated.

“H-hi,” you stammered before clearing your throat. “You guys are BTS right?”

“Hey, yeah we are. _____, right?” one replied back. His presence gave him the feel of a leader. This one must be RM.

“Yeah I am, and this is my friend Choonhee,” you said, pointing to the girl standing on your left.

“You won best new artist tonight, right?” one asked, looking at Choonhee.

“Yes, I did,” she shyly smiled.

“Congratulations. I love your song, by the way. I’m Taehyung.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” Choonhee bowed in appreciation of the compliment. “_____ should be getting credit for it as well. She wrote the song, I simply perform it.”

“You wrote that song?” another one asks you. You nod your head in response.

“Your songwriting skill is amazing. You write beautiful lyrics,” He reaches his hand out, “I’m Yoongi.”

Following that, the rest of the members introduced themselves. Of course, once you reached the last member, he simply nodded his head at you. You noticed that in both ears he had small hoop earrings in. You smiled before averting your eyes. Why did he make you so nervous?

Choonhee began conversing with RM and Taehyung about her upcoming music. Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi started a conversation with you. From your conversation you could tell that Yoongi was immensely passionate about music.

“So let me put a scenario out there," you started. "I have an idea for a song. Would you be down to work with me on it if I sent you some samples?” you ask him. Drunk you should be allowed out more frequently. You often struggle to find other people to work with because you’re so shy.

“Definitely, I have some beats saved in my studio computer, I could see if one of them would work with the vibe you have in the lyrics,” he replies, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. You exchanged emails and agreed to attempt to work on a song together once your schedules both cleared up.

The three boys fell into another conversation about something involving the award show as your attention fell to the two boys behind you who were avoiding conversation with you. Jin and Jungkook were goofing around with each other, pushing at each other and speaking in weird voices. Why won’t they come over and talk to you? You’re more than capable of talking to them. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t really interested at all?

‘Whatever,’ you thought.

“I’m going to get another drink, anyone care to join?” you asked, addressing the group.

“I’ll come,” Hoseok replied.

You both walked back over to the bar where you decided to switch it up and order a vodka cranberry. You felt the presence of a figure next to you as you waited. When you turned your head to see who it was, you saw it was Jungkook. Getting to see him up close in this light, you realized that he was wearing blue contact lenses.

You turned away, blushing slightly at the eye contact. As the bartender gave you and Hoseok your drinks, you heard him ask Jungkook what he wanted.

“Whiskey on ice,” Jungkook replies. You snicker to yourself. His voice sounds so different than what you expected it to. That also didn’t seem like a drink Jungkook would be drinking. He seemed like more of a sex on the beach kind of guy; you were clearly mistaken.

He places his hands on the edge of the bar, one of them covering your right one that was placed in a similar way. You looked at him, shocked that he was being so bold.

There was no way that was an accident.

He grabs the drink from the bartender before sparing you a glance. He had a look on his face that was hard to decipher. Before you could question him, his hand slid off of yours and he turned to walk away. You shook your head, taking a deep breath before following behind him with Hoseok to rejoin the group.

“Hey _____, isn’t that Youngjin?” Choonhee asked, pointing behind you. You turned around to look, and sure enough, your boyfriend finally decided to show face.

“We should probably get going,” you say.

“It was great getting to meet you guys, we’ll definitely keep in contact,” you smile.

You heard a chorus of “Bye!” and “Nice to meet you!” and “Don’t forget to email me those samples!” from the group as you and Choonhee walked away. Choonhee began to walk down the stairs, but you stopped her, saying that you wanted to grab Youngjin first.

He was standing at a small table overlooking the first floor, another scotch on the rocks still in his hand.

“Hey, where have you been this whole time?” you asked him, putting your hand on his chest.

“Talking to some producers. You know, business talk,” he responds. There was a bit of a condescending tone when he said "business talk," but you chose to ignore it.

“What have you been up to?” he asks instead.

“I met BTS. They’re really cool, actually; I got one of their emails so we can try to collaborate on a song together. How cool is that?” you ask, excited.

“Super cool," he says in a bored tone.

“They were all super nice too. Except for one, Jungkook. He didn’t talk to me the whole time. The only time he said anything near me was when we ordered drinks at the bar. He sounds so different. You’d expect him to have a deeper voice,” you laugh, the alcohol starting to really affect you now.

“Um, _____,” he says, glancing behind you.

You turned around to see Jungkook standing there, looking at you. You can’t decode the look in his eyes, you instantly feel bad though.

That guilt went away when you see him smirk at you, glancing between Youngjin and you before turning and walking away.

“What was that about?” Youngjin asks.

“I’m not sure, let’s go though, it’s getting late,” you reply back, grabbing his hand and walking down the steps and out of the club.

➵

Aside from that basic introduction, no words were actually exchanged between you two. You only snuck glances and he practically held your hand. You would think that you would be a bit more nervous talking to someone that looks as amazing as him; the alcohol must, once again, be giving you the confidence to hold a conversation.

He breathes out a laugh through his nose, rubbing his thumb against his bottom lip. You could feel your mouth go slightly dry at the sight. You took another sip of water before you continued.

“She ditched me for some guy in the club. I don’t venture into the city much aside from going to work. You would think that she would have enough common sense to assume that I don’t know where the fuck I am or how to get home.”

He cocks his head to the side a bit. “Where are you staying? I’ll give you a ride,” he offers.

“No thanks, I’ll just call a cab,” you say, rifling through your purse for your cell phone. Unfortunately, when you retrieve it from the depths of meaningless receipts and gum wrappers, it is dead. You sigh, rubbing your hand down your face, disregarding the fact that you definitely just ruined your makeup. Honestly though, it was probably already ruined from the sweaty nightclub.

You slowly meet Jungkook’s eyes, sparkling with amusement.

“Problem?” He cheekily asks, peering at you from the top of his water glass as he takes a sip.

“Can you call me a cab?” you ask.

“Now, let’s look at this logically,” he starts. You roll my eyes.

“Why would I, a gentleman, let you, a pretty young woman,” he pauses, glancing up and down my body. You can feel a blush appear on your cheeks.

“Call a cab in the middle of the night, costing you roughly 500,000 won, when I can just give you a ride for free? It will ensure the safety of you and your wallet’s well-being.”

You know he makes a good point. It is not exactly safe for someone to be catching cabs this late at night, and you really don’t feel like spending more money than you already have tonight.

You groan in annoyance. “Fine.”

➵

Twenty minutes and a plate of fries later, you are both approaching a dark van parked outside of the restaurant. Jungkook’s hand is guiding you towards the vehicle, resting on the small of your back. Dangerously close to your ass, you may add.

“This is yours?” you ask, hesitancy in your voice.

“The band uses it. I called my driver to come get us.”

“You woke up your driver in the middle of the night? I told you I could have just taken a cab.”

“He wasn’t asleep, he was dropping the hyungs at the dorms. I wanted fresh air so I decided to take a walk before going back home,” he explains, opening the back door for you.

“You know it’s not safe to be walking around the city this late at night by yourself, Jeon Jungkook,” you tease in reply. He plasters that infamous smirk on his face as you slide in, careful to not let your dress ride up. You didn’t particularly feel like flashing the passerby’s.

“You may be right, ______, but ask yourself this; if I had not taken that walk, where might you be now?” he questions as he hops in the car behind you.

Even though you scoot all the way to the other side of the van, Jungkook sits in the middle, right next to you. His jogger-covered left thigh is touching your bare right one. You are so distracted by the fact that he is sitting so close that you nearly forget to give the driver your address. After he puts it in his GPS, he puts up the divider between the front and back, for privacy, you guessed.

“You live in the suburbs?” Jungkook asks.

“My parents do. I’m staying with them for a while,” you respond, looking out the window.

“Ah, too much drama back in Seoul?” he assumes, throwing his arm around the back of the seat behind you. You are all too aware of the fact that you can practically feel the tips of his fingers on your left shoulder.

“You have no idea,” you utter out. “Everyone thinks I’m some pretentious princess that only dated him for publicity.”

➵

Last month is when shit hit the fan.

You had started to get a bit tired of always being put on the back burner by Youngjin. Even when he was not promoting, he always seemed to be filling his schedule up with other things. Whether it be interviews, rehearsals for a comeback that was still months away, or hanging out with his friends from his label that he sees all of the time anyway. He was constantly blowing you off for any small reason it seemed. When you approached him about it, he got defensive.

“You’re overreacting like a child, as per usual,” he rolled his eyes.

“As per usual? What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you are still immature. You don’t know what it takes to be in this industry and quite frankly, you don’t have it. That’s why you clung to me like glue after the one time I flirted with you all those months ago, to grow your career,” he scoffed.

“What are you talking about? I responded to your flirting because I like you as a person! How dare you think I did this for my career? I am perfectly capable of building a name for myself without you!” you nearly screamed.

“Oh yeah? Prove it,” he sneered.

“Fine. We’re done,” you said adamantly as you grabbed your coat off of the arm of his couch. Walking towards the door, you stop right in front of his face.

“Watch me.”

Turns out, ending things on negative terms with a pissed off ex-boyfriend who has a high status in the media wasn’t the best of your plans.

You may or may not have released a cover of an English song, “Sorry Not Sorry” onto your SoundCloud just days later. Rather than just letting the bit of shade slide, Youngjin decided that he needed to rebuttal.

He did a V Live, indirectly telling the world that someone close to him betrayed him for their own personal gain. It was the biggest load of horseshit you had ever heard, but the fans somehow connected the dots and practically overnight the entirety of your country had seemingly turned on you. That is why you had to move out to the suburbs to live with your parents, and why you had gone into a sort of hiding and social media cleanse.

➵

“I don’t think that’s true,” he says. You can feel his hot breath on the side of your face. You’re too nervous to turn and look at him.

“I think he’s the pretentious one, and he’s an idiot for doing that to you. He wants sympathy for a situation nobody is sure actually happened.”

“Well, at least somebody is on my side,” you whisper, glancing at him for a second before looking down at your lap. You feel his hand that’s not around your shoulders play with the end of your dress.

“By the way,” he says in a low voice, his mouth so close to your ear you can feel his lips on your earlobe. “Black lace really suits you.”

Your eyes widen and your heart rate begins to increase as you realize he must have seen your underwear when you got in the car, despite your efforts to make sure that did not happen.

Instead of feeling mortified like you should have, you felt powerful. Maybe it was the alcohol taking affect on you, but your mood went from upset to almost… lustful?

“Does it now?” you questioned back. He hummed in reply and you could not help but let a breath out of your mouth when you feel his teeth graze the cartilage of your ear.

“Sexy,” is all he murmurs. Your thighs involuntarily tightened closer together at the simple word that fell from his lips.

You gazed up at him for a split second, seeing his eyes full of lust.

Next thing you knew, your lips were on his.

His hand on your shoulder moved to behind your neck as your lips hungrily meshed together. Goddamn, his lips are softer than you thought they would be.

There was no questioning whether or not this was right or wrong, no devil on your shoulder telling you that you barely knew the man tangling his tongue with yours. The only thing your mind was telling you right now is that you needed more of Jungkook, and you needed him now.

Your hands slid up his chest, lightly gripping onto his black hoodie. You felt his free hand resting high up on your leg with his thumb rubbing slow circles into your inner thigh. You tried withholding a moan, you really did, but it slipped out anyways. His grip on your leg tightened at the sound. You lightly bit his lower lip in approval before pulling back for air.

Holy shit, he’s an amazing kisser. It has been so long since you’ve kissed someone like that.

Jungkook took that opportunity to move his lips to your neck. He brushed your hair back before letting his tongue trace up from your neck to your earlobe, gently biting down. You could feel your desire for him building by every hot breath in your ear, every movement of his tongue on your neck, every purple mark he left.

You grab the back of his head, gripping onto his brown locks before pulling them away from your neck and reattaching your lips with his. His hand that was on your leg has moved your dress up and dangerously close to the band of your underwear. One more inch and he would probably be able to feel how badly you want him right now.

Instead of letting him get that close, you swing your leg over his until you are straddling him in the backseat. Your hands go up to his chest and your forehead rests on his briefly before you go back to kissing him. You feel his hands tightly grip your hips and in that moment, you wanted your dress off.

A knock on the divider is what pulls you away from each other.

“We’re here Jungkook. Say goodnight,” his driver says from the front seat.

“Let me walk you up,” he insists. From the way he looks at you, you know he’s not giving you an option.

You swing your legs back over to your seat before you adjust your dress and open the door. You wait for Jungkook to follow you. He shuts the car door before signaling “one minute” to the driver. His hand returns to the small of your back just as it did earlier as you approach your parent’s front door.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say nonchalantly.

“Same to you,” he boldly replies. “We should do it again sometime.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, holding it out to you. You go to his contacts and put your information in before handing it back to him.

“Well, goodnight,” you state, putting your hand on the doorknob. You begin to turn it before you’re pulled into Jungkook’s chest, hand being ripped away from the door. His lips crash down on yours hard, kissing you for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Goodnight.”

Before you could even open your eyes from the kiss, he is walking away and back towards the van.

Standing there stunned, you take a minute to compose yourself before you reach for the doorknob again.

“Oh, and _____?” you hear him yell.

You peaked over your shoulder at him, standing by the open van door.

“Purple suits you as well,” he smirks, motioning to his neck. Your mouth drops as the reality of his words sink in, and you instinctively reach towards your own neck. A small hiss escapes your mouth when you feel the ache of the numerous marks he littered on your skin. You look back up at him with a small glare, to which he cracks a smile and gets in the back of the van. You watch the vehicle drive down the street, turn left at the intersection, and off into the night.

Walking into the house, you shut the door quietly behind you before leaning against the dark wood. A sigh escaped your lips and the only thing you could think of was how utterly screwed you were.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #idol jungkook #jungkook bts #bts drabble #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts #ffjwrites #jungkook x reader #idol!jungkook

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svtntntn · 6 years

Text

on the rocks;)

bartender!seungcheol

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR LEADER!!

so let's get down to business

seungcheol first got into bartending when he was deemed the bartender at parties, pouring drinks for everyone in the kitchen as to keep an eye out for who was drinking too much and needed to stopped

basically mr. responsible

he decided to look up actual cocktails and mixed drinks and tried doing it at home, that's when he decided to go to bartending school and actually be a licensed bartender

works at this place called ‘the underground’

seungcheol usually wears a black t-shirt with plain black slacks and nonslip shoes behind the counter

sometimes he'll break out his black button-up with one and two buttons undone at the top and slick his hair back;)

he usually works on the same nights as hansol, wonwoo and mingyu, as wonwoo and hansol are v quick and detail-oriented when making drinks, and mingyu’s great at spotting customers who need drinks as well as getting their attention

flirts with customers from time to time, but only bites his lips and sends them a couple winks if they're into him—nothing more

seungcheol works his night shifts until the morning, choosing to be the last person to leave to make sure everything is cleaned up and locked up at the end of the night

lowkey has the respect of a manager but is still on the same level as everyone aka mr. de facto leader:)

you first see him across the room when your friends wheein and yongsun leave to get the first round of drinks, watching them talk briefly before he prepares their order

seungcheol's eyes catch yours across the room, but he focuses on making drinks instead

bc he's on duty and you're probably with your s/o or your friends and you probably just want a night to relax

you don't need some bartender like making googly eyes at you the whole night

but you're doing exactly that to him

hyejin notices you staring at the bartender the whole night, "(y/n), you should go flirt with the bartender"

"wHAT? me?" you shake your head, pulling your gaze from the handsome man, "no no no no no"

"do it! here, I'll help you!" hyejin pulls you to your feet and to the bar counter, smiling at the cute bartender while twirling her hair around her finger, "hi! could we get a couple drinks?"

"of course, what can I get for you ladies?" under the lights, his smile twinkles, like actually sHINES

your eyes dart over his chest for a name tag, but there's none to be found and when you look back up at the bartender's eyes, he winks at you

"my friend, (y/n), actually wanted—what did you want again?" hyejin turns to you to answer, but you're drawing a blank, "one, uh—water please?"

hyejin’s jaw slackens in disbelief as the cute bartender chuckles and nods, "one water for the beautiful lady then"

just as he leaves, hyejin slaps your arm, "(y/n)! what was that! water? you could have asked for any other drink on the planet!"

"but-" you're about to mention how the cute bartender did call you 'beautiful' but hyejin mumbles something about needing her drink and goes back to the table when seungcheol appears with said water for you

"one water for the beautiful lady, (y/n) was it?"

"yes, and thank you so much! uh I was—" you're about to say something else when someone pushes by you and snaps their fingers at the cute bartender, barking out a list of drinks to him

seungcheol holds in his anger at the insensitive customer and politely excuses himself to fix their drinks

you tap on the shoulder of the rude man, "excuse me, you don't have to snap at the bartenders like a dog. they're fixing your drinks, so be kind and patient with them, will you?"

you leave with your water before the man can say anything else and avoid looking back at the bar

when hyejin raises her eyebrow at you, you shake your head and join in on the conversation with moonbyul and yongsun, momentarily forgetting about the handsome bartender and the rude customer

towards the end of the night, one of the taller bartenders rings the metal bell positioned over the center of the bar, saying something about last call for drinks

your friends mention they're about to leave after the large crowd of ppl do when the bell is run again but with a different announcement, "would someone by the name of (y/n) come to the bar! your wallet is with one of the bartenders! thank you!"

you're confused bc you do have your wallet on you?

you pull it out as moonbyul and wheein all stare at you while yongsun and hyejin push you towards the bar

this had to be a misunderstanding, right?

you wait by the bar counter for a bartender to come by and the one with light brown hair stops by you, "oh you're (y/n)? seungcheol has your wallet, let me get him"

"wait, no! that's the thing, I do have my wallet" you hold up your own as proof

"oh," hansol scratches his head bc seungcheol just told him he had a customer's wallet, but you seem to have it so okay then, "oh sorry about that, enjoy the rest of your night! sorry for the misunderstanding"

"it's all good! you too" you end up leaving the bar without the cute bartender's name or number:(((((

guess you gotta come back:')))

meanwhile seungcheol is cleaning up around the bar and in the backroom when everyone strolls in after locking the front

"hey hansol, did anyone named (y/n) come to the counter?"

hansol's grabbing his headphones from his bag, "(y/n)? oh yeah, she did!"

"wait—she did? what, why didn't you tell me!" seungcheol groans and slumps over into a pillow on the backroom's couch

"she told me she had her wallet, so she left… am I missing something?"

seungcheol runs a hand over his face, "I wanted to get her number before she left, that's why I said I had her wallet"

"but you didn't... oH!" hansol makes an apologetic face, "sorry"

"it's okay, she'll probably come back" seungcheol remains hopeful and guess what??

you do come back!! albeit a couple weeks later, but you come back!!

but this time, it's for a blind date ripppp

wheein and hyejin had an idea of setting you up with a colleague of theirs from work for awhile and they set you up to meet this guy at the underground club/bar

so you're dressed to kill in a hot outfit with your hair all done up and when you walk into building, no one can take their eyes off you

you take an empty seat at the bar counter and there's tons of ppl asking to buy you a drink, but you shake your head and tell them you're waiting for your date

and when seungcheol overhears this, he gets kinda pouty bc he’s lost his chance with you:(((

but it doesn't mean he can't talk to you or serve you

you're warding off another stranger trying to buy you a drink when seungcheol swoops in, "excuse me miss, is this man bothering you?"

"oh no, I was just asking him to leave, thank you" you give the stranger a pointed look and he gets the message, putting his hands up innocently and obeying your wishes

"thank you for helping me" you're a blushing mess bc the cute bartender is back and you're suddenly v conscious about how you look

"nope, that was all you" he fiddles with his clean rag on his side of the bar, "(y/n), right?"

"you remember me?"

"well yeah," seungcheol shrugs, "you looked really really pretty then and you look really really pretty now, how could I forget?"

seungcheol's surprised he managed to get the words out as you blush and look down at your hands

"plus you defended me when that one guy snapped at me, not many people do that"

you and seungcheol end up talking more and more and he just wants to be with you one-on-one and not at work, but wonwoo and mingyu call him out on being distracted by you

"seungcheol, could you help out with some orders? I get you want to talk to the pretty woman, but we are on-duty here"

seungcheol sheepishly smiles and winks at you, "sorry guys, lemme make her a drink real quick"

he makes you his favorite drink but before he leaves he slides over a napkin with his number, "I forgot to introduce myself, I'm choi seungcheol"

your smile is as wide as can be and you decide to act a bit more confident once you see the number on the napkin, "perfect, I can finally stop calling you 'the cute bartender' in my head"

"I wouldn't mind if you continued calling me that" seungcheol has this satisfied smirk and he's biting his lip and—

"seUNGCHEOL"

it's wonwoo who calls him this time

"sorry sorryyyy" he's caught by the guys again and he excuses himself to help other customers at the counter

you grin to yourself as you hold the napkin bc you finally have the cute bartender—seungcheol's number

you fold the napkin to put in your purse when there's a tap on your shoulder and there's the guy you're supposed to be set up with aka your blind date, "excuse me, but are you (y/n)?"

you stand up to greet your date, "yes I am, you must be hyunwoo? you work with wheein and hyejin?"

"I do, yes! sorry to keep you waiting, it took me awhile to find this place, I don't really go out to clubs and bars much"

hyunwoo's super sweet to you and he seems like a genuinely nice and amazing guy the more you talk to him, but you're just not feeling him?

maybe bc your heart's already taken by the cute bartender

and hyunwoo thinks the same of you—super kind and wonderful in every which way, but you two just don't click together romantically

and that's okay!!

hyunwoo and you both recognize that and part on amicable terms, wishing each other a good night and luck in the future

you smile wistfully at hyunwoo's departing figure when seungcheol meekly walks to your side of the bar, "(y/n)? are you okay?"

seungcheol's been staring at you and hyunwoo the whole time he's been on his shift, only interrupting to ask if you or him needed a refill but other than that, he's been staying a respectable distance from your date

"huh? yes, I'm fine! thank you seungcheol," you're swishing your drink in the glass and seungcheol is confused by what just happened bc you and him were smiling and stuff so...

"bad date?" he’s really confused and he just looks so damn adorable when he’s confused

"oh no! no, he's a good guy, we just didn't click well"

seungcheol's awkward as he doesn't know how to change the conversation, "sorry about that"

"no it's alright, this night isn't a complete failure" you hum positively, just when seungcheol asks why is that

you pretend to think for a moment before answering, "well, the cute bartender I've been thinking about for weeks remembered me from the first time I came in here, and he told me his name finally, and he made me a really good drink, and he gave me his number, and he really wants to take me out for breakfast or coffee when his shift is over"

seungcheol finally catches on and he grins, "he does?"

"I don't know," you playfully ask, "does he?"

he really does;)

#Seventeen #choi seungcheol #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol au #s.coups scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #choi seungcheol scenarios #choi seungcheol imagines #seungcheol imagines #s.coups imagines #s.coups #my work #gosh I hope the ending is okay #gosh I hope there's no typos or anything

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theclaravoyant · 6 years

Photo

AN ~ for #FitzSimmonsWeek Day 3: trust, and also for @buskidsburgade who asked me to continue this literally a year ago, here we are at last. I think I know what I want to do with it now in terms of tone etc. so I’m happy to consider writing more if people have ideas, prompts etc.

for now though, here’s the next part. it does get a bit angsty at the beginning bc Jemma’s in for a major shock to the system, but the second half is more positive I promise :)

Rated T. FitzSimmons, Bus Kids. Read below or on AO3. I highly recommend reading Part I first, but what you really need to know is,

A freak accident in the field has given Jemma explosive new powers that have left her terrified to open her eyes for fear of releasing another deadly pulse of light and heat. Whilst she was initially worried about what it meant for her team, she now must start to face what it means for herself.

(Let Me Stand) Next To Your Fire - Part II

“Trust me,” Fitz said, his voice crackling a little over the comms. “Everyone is perfectly safe. We’re behind two layers of polymer and radiation glass, just like you asked. Okay?”

Jemma nodded. Then, realising he probably couldn’t see her from that far away, hoarsely whispered; “Yes.”

Fitz swallowed hard. His fingers twitched on the keyboard of the computer through which they were all watching her – standing small, scared and alone in the middle of her cell. The duct-tape glasses he had made for her lay abandoned on the bed. Prototypes for the new, ‘power-proof’ model were scattered across his desk. He tried not to think about them too much – tried to hope that they would not be necessary – but Jemma had not opened her eyes in three days out of sheer terror and that was a pessimism difficult to overcome.

Daisy put a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed the button to speak to Jemma.

“We’re with you,” she promised. “No matter what, okay?”

Behind them, Elena had a fist clenched around the crucifix at her neck. She hadn’t disclosed what exactly she was praying for and nobody had asked. Mack was quiet, as usual, but his shoulders were tense. May and Coulson stood close by each other, eyes fixed on the tiny Jemma on the screen with concern.

“Are you ready?” Fitz checked.

Jemma squared her shoulders. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose. No use standing around all day, is there?”

She took a deep breath, and Fitz found himself doing the same. Across the crowd – across the whole base, it seemed – breath was held.

Then Jemma opened her eyes.

Black.

Jemma reached out her hands, feeling unsteady. Feeling like she’d just fallen into water. A little dizzy, disoriented, because she had her eyes open and nothing had changed. She looked around. Nothing but black.

“Fitz?” Her voice trembled as it left her throat.

“Yeah?”

The tension flooded out of her chest for a moment. She could have wept if she weren’t so wired.

“I’m here,” he said gently.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” he explained. “No flash. No heat. Nothing dangerous at all. You’re fine.”

“N- no,” she stammered, heart beginning to race again, throat beginning to close over. She tried to tell herself, remind herself where she was. She’d been in this room any number of times before. White walls. A desk. A large television screen. A vase of yellow daisies.

Not this.

Not black.

“Jem?” Daisy checked. “Are you okay?”

Nononononono.

She curled up, crouching down, huddling her knees to her chest until she felt the end of the bed against her back and used that for support instead, collapsing into the floor. She pressed her hands to her eyes – to protect herself, or to clear them, or just as a comforting habit after all this time? She didn’t know. She couldn’t decide. All her thoughts were scattered. All of a sudden she felt so unprepared for this. All her optimism and bargaining and reason splintered in the face of world-altering fear.

What am I going to do?

The door slid open and her heart clenched. Footsteps.

Fitz?

She looked up.

Black.

New disappointment, new fear. A whimper escaped her throat. The hot stinging feeling of tears on her cheeks was strange without the blurred vision to accompany it. The footsteps echoed in her ear; the shifting air pressed in as Fitz knelt down before her.

“Jemma?” he asked, his voice so beautifully, painfully clear in person, and bleeding with love and concern. “…Can you see me?”

She shook her head, over and over, as all the overwhelming emotion - everything she’d had too much time to ponder these last few days - crashed in on her like waves. The weight of her altered future. The knowledge of the things she might never see or do again. All of it, spinning out of control, like her life was a car somebody else was driving, and had crashed, and she couldn’t breathe and -

Jemma gasped and gasped, sobbing and hyperventilating and trying to speak all at the same time. As calmly as he could, Fitz enveloped her in his arms and cradled her against his chest, waiting for the panic to subside. He remembered the terror of first becoming aware of what had happened to him not so long ago; of wanting something, expecting something, and having it within reach but beyond control like some kind of sick joke. Like a nightmare. His stomach churned at the thought that Jemma had to endure it too, but he kept his breathing steady. She would make it through, just like he had; they just had to ride the rollercoaster out.

“We’re gonna be okay,” he reminded her. “We planned for this, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” she choked, hiccupping with sobs – “I didn’t want – I didn’t want to be scared. I wanted to be brave, like you – ‘n D- Daisy but I –“

Holding her tighter, hoping the physical pressure would stop her from spinning out mentally, Fitz rocked a little.

“Just breathe,” he reminded her. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s not your fault. But we’re all safe, okay? That’s the important thing. You’re not going to hurt us. It’s all uphill from here.”

Jemma nodded, trying to absorb it. Her chest unclenched a little with every reassurance. Her breathing began to steady, matching Fitz’s, and she thought of how far he’d come. If he could do it, maybe she could too.

Eventually, with a deep breath, she pulled back from him a little. She heard him hum quietly, and smiled to herself, envisioning the little frown of concern that would crumple his face. Tenderly, he touched her shoulders, her neck, her cheeks, and wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. He let his hands linger there, until Jemma raised her own to touch them, hold them, and lower them down again. In this simple, quiet moment, she felt herself begin to steady.

“Well.” She rubbed his hands with her own, experiencing the texture, and realising just how much she’d missed their intimacy in these last few, long days. “What now?”

“That depends on you,” Fitz said. “I could try and make something - an implant or something – that could give you your sight back. But since we don’t understand why it’s gone…”

“You don’t know where to start,” Jemma finished. “That is something. The time and energy is another. And the surgeries. And – what if the radiation does something to it? Or leaks? Or what if my powers have something to do with it?”

“Powers?” Fitz frowned. “You have powers?”

“I assume so. Don’t you?”

“You didn’t radiation-bomb us just now, so I’m not sure what to think.”

“Well, maybe it’s like Daisy’s powers. Maybe it only happens when I’m feeling certain things. Maybe I’m recharging. I don’t know. But I’m not banking on it being a once-off.”

“That’s smart.”

“I do try.” Jemma smiled a tight-lipped smile, not feeling quite the same buzz of confidence she usually got with this sort of bantering praise, but glad for a little lightheartedness now that the worst – she hoped – was over.

“Knock-knock.”

Jemma’s smile widened at the sound of Daisy’s voice. Fitz helped her up – she was getting more used to feeling, rather than seeing, the movement of her tangle of limbs – and she walked forward with arms outstretched until Daisy filled them. They lingered in their embrace for a moment, like in so many near-death experiences before, until Daisy pulled back to offer Jemma something.

The gift felt odd in Jemma’s hands. Plastic, with holes in it. Something that could be plastic or glass. Small. Smooth surfaces. A few ridges where surfaces joined. Oh, hinges! And suddenly it made sense.

“Those are the latest glasses,” Fitz explained. “They should refract light, retain radiation, all that.”

“But if your eyes start hurting, tell someone,” Daisy warned. “Don’t pull a Daisy, okay? Skulls are a lot harder to fix than arms.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jemma promised, though she was a little distracted, feeling her own face and trying to coordinate the ends of the glasses’ arms with her ears and hair. Laughing, she dodged it here and there before Daisy caught on and helped her slip them on more smoothly.

“I gotcha,” Daisy promised, fixing Jemma’s hair over the glasses. “Not the greatest fashion statement, but you make it work.”

“It’s just a protoype,” Fitz insisted, a little defensively. “I can give different styles a whirl once I’ve worked out what I can do with the materials.”

“They’re fantastic, Fitz,” Jemma interrupted, before Daisy could jibe him again. “I really appreciate it. I feel much safer now, and hard as it was… is… I’m glad we did this. I’m glad I know. Well, something, at least – there’s always plenty more that needs figuring out and muddling through.”

“Ah,” Daisy agreed, nudging her playfully, “but that’s the fun part!”

“Would you like to come and help?” Fitz invited. “Daisy’s set you up an office near the lab.”

“Also brought you this,” Daisy added. She tapped it on the ground so that Jemma could hear it, then passed it over; a leather handle - which felt a bit like a golf club, only lighter - and a long, thin titanium rod. Jemma swished it around a little, getting used to the feel of it, and heard it thwack lightly against Daisy’s cargo pants.

“Woah!” Daisy cried. “Hands and legs inside the vehicle, please.”

Obediently, Jemma dropped the tip of the cane to the ground and kept it there, swinging it lightly across the floor with one hand and the keeping the other interlocked with Fitz’s arm as Daisy led the way out and down the hall. It was the first time Jemma had ventured out of her room since she’d demanded she be locked in after the incident, and she was surprised to find that she could walk tall, even if what her cane was telling her didn’t make much sense yet.

She heard the sound of a door unlocking, and they slowed as Fitz and Daisy bundled her into a room. Her office. She smiled.

“The daisies are in here, aren’t they?”

She imagined that Fitz and Daisy smiled to each other in the moment of silence that passed, before Daisy launched into the tour. They went around her desk, a TV screen, a bookshelf –

“And here, this thing will read out to you what it sees. Check it out.”

Daisy pushed a round object, about the size of a cricket ball, into Jemma’s hand and eagerly held up a book cover. Jemma scanned it.

“The Biophysical Properties of North American Soils, by Jacob Lane,” read the friendly automated device. Jemma grinned, and Daisy held up another:

“Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, by J K Rowling,” read the device.

“Cool, huh?” Daisy pointed out. “I’ve also put your computer on text to speech. That one’s robot voice is super annoying but Fitz and I are working on it.”

Jemma shook her head, awed and humbled.

“This is fantastic,” she praised. “Honestly, it’s such a gift.”

“There’s also a private tea tray and a fridge in the corner,” Fitz explained. “I know I found… public displays of inelegance… really awkward at first, so if you’d rather eat in private, you can.”

“Oh, stop it!” Jemma waved her hand, choking up again. “You’re going to make me cry. Gosh, today has just been too much.”

“Our pleasure,” Daisy insisted.

“Can – sorry,” Jemma began again. “Can I have a moment?”

“Of course!” Fitz agreed, and slipped carefully free of her arm. “Call if you need us.”

Jemma agreed, and the door clicked closed as they left her to it. She felt her way over to the chair and sat down, overwhelmed in a whole new way. She straightened and pulled the chair in as best she could, and set about exploring her desktop setup, only to find that Daisy or Fitz had left a webpage open. As she listened, it started to read:

Once, there was a star...

#fitzsimmons #thefitzsimmonsnetwork #fsfic #aospositivitynet #jemma simmons #bus kids #clara's fic tag #fitzsimmons week

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omgpourquoi · 7 years

Note

heaven in hiding

Can’t Be Happening: The Playlist Fics

Song: Heaven In Hiding by Halsey

Dex watched him from the counter. He was staying at Nursey’s for spring break, while Nursey’s mom was on vacation with her girlfriend. Nursey had been invited, but he figured Cara and his mom deserved a romantic get away. He also figured he and Dex deserved a romantic get away. Thus, they were in his empty brownstone in Manhattan, alone for the week. Nursey had already decided it was the best week of his life and it was only Tuesday.

Nursey poured the mac and cheese noodles into the pot and gave it an experimental stir before reaching down to set the timer for 10 minutes. Forgetting mac and cheese was a tragic mistake he’d made before. After making sure that his midnight snack would survive, Nursey turned around…and proceeded to practically slip on his socks. He caught himself on the counter.

Dex sat on the island. His freckled, muscular legs went on for miles, swishing back and forth as he leaned back onto his splayed hands. He was wearing Nursey’s navy t-shirt —which incidentally paired nicely with his hair— and striped baby blue and white boxers. That was enough to cause Nursey’s heart to stop for a minute, but what literally almost floored him was the way Dex was looking.

((kinda saucy™ under the cut))

As cliché as terms like “bedroom eyes” and “eye-fucking” were, Nursey had no other words for the hungry look Dex was giving him. The air, which Nursey had thought was cool before, suddenly felt warm and thick around him.

Nursey cleared his throat. “Well, well. Aren’t you looking nice and sweet over there?”

Dex smirked slowly, tilting his head. Nursey was having trouble swallowing. Dex opened his mouth lazily to answer.

“You know how you’re the confident one?” he asked, voice as lethargic as his movements.

“Am I?” Nursey feigned disbelief, leaning against the counter across from his defense partner.

But Dex wasn’t wrong, exactly. Nursey was just better at “faking it ‘till he could make it” or whatever. Dex wasn’t unconfident, he was mostly just shy. Nursey found it endearing though, all those soft blushes and small smiles.

Dex rolled his eyes before answering.

“You know you are, asshole.”

Nursey shrugged and moved forward to frame Dex with his arms. “Sometimes.”

Dex reached forward to wrap his own arms loosely around Nursey’s waist.

“Hmm. Sometimes,” he mocked, opening his legs a little to allow Nursey to drift closer. His eyes now issued a challenge. Nursey never could refuse a challenge from Dex.

While Dex in the bedroom was a pretty…liberated... Dex in general, this was different. Nursey was unsure where this surge of confidence was coming from, but the tables had definitely turned. Nursey got with the program, more than willing to let that happen. Dex held him lightly— oh so feather lightly. And everywhere his fingers lingered left electricity in their wake. Nursey leaned forward to kiss him, but Dex kept his lips firmly shut.

More, Nursey thought, surging forward to try and deepen the kiss. Nursey licked at his mouth impatiently, but Dex pulled back. Nursey chased his mouth.

“Hmm, Derek Nurse that’s not very chill of you,” Dex was practically purring.

Nursey’s head swirled as desire — hot and biting — wound through him. Dex grasped the back of Nursey’s head with force, pulling their lips together. Dex made him wait for it, but after a minute or two he opened his mouth completely. The kiss was all Dex— teasing with his tongue as Nursey tried to put up a fight; But this was Dex’s show now. Dex teased him, pushing his hands under his white tank top, sliding a finger just under his waist line. Nursey pulled at his navy shirt.

“Want my shirt back,” Nursey managed, pulling at the fabric. Dex laughed.

“Nah. I think I’ll keep it, thanks,” his voice sounded fucking filthy.

Nursey started to protest again, but the sound became a moan on his lips.

Dex kissed down his jaw, tongue soothing fast bites that would definitely leave marks. Nursey’s eyes fluttered.

“If I knew this is how you would react, I would cook more often.” Even as he said it, Nursey struggled for breath, gripping Dex’s thigh with one hand and the island with another.

“Nursey,” Dex grumbled against his neck, “Mac and cheese is not cooking.”

He tugged at Nursey’s hair and Nursey held on for dear life, surrendering to Dex completely. Dex set the pace, sliding one strong hand into Nursey’s hair and spreading the other over the tattoo on his ribs. Nursey was shaking with want. Dex’s lips found his again, his tongue teasingly toying with Nursey’s. Nursey pressed into the counter. Dex was too far, too far, too far, too far. He tugged, trying to pull his boyfriend closer.

“Impatient,” Dex growled, but he dragged himself forward all the same, closing any of the remaining space between them.

The heat was sending sparks right through Nursey. Dex wrapped his leg around Nursey’s waist, pulling them flush. They were obviously going to need to move this to the bedroom soon, or maybe the couch, because—

A loud beeping sound interrupted Nursey’s thoughts. Dex, tragically, pulled away. Nursey tried to catch his breath.

“What—“ Dex started to ask, before the timer goes off again.

“Fuck, whyyyy,” Nursey complained.

He looked back at the boiling pot unhappily. And he was—unfortunately— brought back to a world that wasn’t all about this ginger-haired hidden heaven sitting on his counter in striped boxers.

“Don’t move,” Nursey warned, as Dex dropped his leg.

Dex smirked, and Nursey leaned in to catch it with his lips. Another angry beep had him grumpily pulling away to drag the water off the heat as quickly as possible. He wasn’t very interested in pasta anymore.

The Rules™ 1. You send me a song from this playlist and I write a Nurseydex ficlet about a word, lyric, feeling, etc 2. You can also suggest songs that you think should be on the playlist. I’ll add it if I like it and write the fic. 3. I can’t write that they’re just singing the song more than let’s say…three times? Bc that’s just cheating.4. Y'all can send suggestions with the songs but it’s okay if I don’t use them. I most likely will though

Other stuff:- Probably won’t get super smutty just cause people I know might see it? But also some of these songs are saucy™ so maybe?- Generally, I don’t do AUs. Not my cup of tea most of the time. But again, some of those songs super lend to it so, no promises either way!

Find the rest under the tag “the playlist fics”

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granteares · 7 years

Note

Parswoops swoops meeting kit! Shenanigans of him bribing her to like him bc she's Kent's baby

slowly but surely i am working through the 3 parswoops prompts i got when i asked for them… here is the first one i wrote up! anon, i hope you enjoy; thank you for sending this to me!! (i rewrote it about 5 times before i settled on this version, r.i.p.)

The first time Jeff came over to Kent’s condo— alone, because team-bonding events didn’t count— they had been hooking up for five months and Kent hadn’t had a good excuse not to let Swoops over considering it was the first time he’d actually asked. Normally, they could get away with going to the small house that Jeff shared with Hale, and that had been fine with Kent. Letting Jeff over felt like a step toward changing hooking up into something more like a relationship.

Kent had just been about to hop in the shower when the doorbell rung an hour and a half earlier than the time Jeff had given him. With a curse, Kent had turned the water off, thrown his clothes back on, and wandered to the front door. Sure enough, it was Jeff standing in his doorway.

“Your shirt’s on backwards,” Jeff said in way of greeting.

“And you’re an insane amount of time early,” Kent pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Still gonna let me in, though, right?” Jeff raised his eyebrows, smiling lopsidedly.

“Is making you wait out here an hour and a half an option?” Kent smirked back.

“No! It’s hot as fuck out, c’mon.” Jeff nudged Kent aside— not that Kent really fought him on it— and into Kent’s condo.

Kent shut the door behind him, then pulled Swoops into a kiss: short and light. When he pulled away again, he said, “I’m going to shower now— and no, you’re not joining me. But make yourself at home, I guess.” When Jeff agreed, he went back upstairs to his shower.

In retrospect, he should have warned Jeff to watch out for Kit. She wasn’t really a social cat, and even Kent hadn’t been immune to her claws when he had adopted her; it had taken months of injuries until she had finally realized he was trustworthy. It was another reason he didn’t generally bring guys home with him— it was far more trouble than it was worth, and Kit was the most important being in Kent’s life, anyway; he’d pick her over a guy any day of the week. Normally, when he had teammates over, Kit would find a hiding place and refuse to come out until everyone had left and Kent was tidying up.

When Kent got out of the shower, had toweled off and thrown a change of clothes on, he went back downstairs and found Jeff sitting in his living room: him cross-legged on one end of the couch, facing Kit who sat warily on the other end, ears pointed back.

“Tempting fate, huh?” Kent posed, standing in the threshold to the living room, smiling.

Jeff jumped, then looked over and Kent and nodded. “Guess so, yeah.”

“I’m amazed she hasn’t killed you yet.”

“She did scratch up my hand,” Jeff admitted.

Kent frowned, and walked to where Jeff was sitting. “She did? Lemme see— is it bad?” he started, reaching out for Jeff’s hands to examine the damage.

“Dude, it’s just a cat scratch, it’s fine. I cleaned it already.” Jeff held out his left hand anyway, as if to appease Kent, and Kent took it, looking it over. “No need to panic.” Kent frowned again, then let the hand go. He wasn’t wrong: it didn’t look bad. “C’mon, let’s order Chinese and watch a movie?” Jeff offered. Kent nodded, because that sounded like a great idea, even if their nutritionist would hate them for it.

_/ x \_

The second time Swoops came over, Kent had been half-asleep on his couch. It was an off-day for the Aces and he had taken the opportunity to tidy up his condo because it had been a while. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so when the doorbell rang, he jumped enough that it made Kit— curled up by his side— jump as well, then get off the couch and patter away somewhere. He pushed himself from the couch and to the front door.

“What the fuck, Swoops,” he muttered when he swung the door open. “You gonna keep showing up at my house unannounced?”

Jeff was smiling that lopsided smirk he used when he knew he was being an asshole. “You want me to leave?” As if he would, he took a step back.

Kent rolled his eyes. “No. You’re here— come on in, I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out of the doorway, locking the door behind Swoops when he’d stepped inside.

“What’re you up to?”

“I was sleeping… I don’t even know what time it is, honestly.” He rubbed at his eyes, trying to feel more awake than he was, now that he had company— especially since said company was Jeff.

“It’s like, dinner time.”

“I see a theme here,” Kent teased, and watched Jeff shrug his shoulders. “Well, I actually have food in the fridge today. I’ll whip something up.”

“I’ll help,” Swoops offered.

Which found them in the kitchen not long afterward, various pots and pans and ingredients set out on the counters and stove top. Kent had had no idea that Jeff knew how to cook, but once everything was set out, he looked like a natural, multi-tasking prepping vegetables with talking Kent’s ear off as per usual and gently hip-checking him any time he walked by. It felt good to be in the kitchen with him, Kent thought, then immediately tried to dismiss that thought, because what.

After they had gotten everything cooking, and just had to wait, Kent noticed that Kit was peering around the entryway to the kitchen— still wary of Swoops, probably, but also fighting against the smell of chicken and knowing it was dinner time. Kent walked over to where he had Kit’s food and water dishes set out, and grabbed the empty food dish. The water bowl looked like it could use freshening up, as well, so as he straightened up and walked over to the cabinet where Kit’s food was kept, he glanced at Jeff. “Would you mind refilling Kit’s water bowl?” he asked. “Just— empty what’s in there and put new water in.”

“Oh, yeah— sure,” Jeff agreed, and a moment later Kent heard his sink running. Meanwhile, Kent had grabbed a can of cat food from Kit’s cabinet and was emptying it into her dish. Kit had walked into the kitchen at this point— she always did as soon as she heard the tell-tale sign of a can being tabbed open, or anything that sounded like kibble chunks rustling in a bag. She was standing by her placemat on the floor, mewling impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kent argued with her, “I’m working on it, see?” He glanced up at Jeff. “You can go ahead and just put that down,” he instructed, realizing he was standing a little ways of with the full water dish in his hands. With a nod, he approached, and bent over to put the bowl down. Kit mewled at him, nudging his hand a moment, then turned around back to Kent when she realized that it was not actually the food.

“Wow, rejected,” Jeff said with a laugh.

Kent rolled his eyes, and handed the food bowl to Jeff. “There, go ahead. Win my cat over.” It was ridiculous the way that Swoops’ face lit up at that, and he took the bowl from Kent’s hand and then placed it down in front of Kit on the placement after she continued her demanding mewls. Her tail swished happily as she immediately dug in, and Kent walked off to wash his hands.

There was still some time to wait on the food to cook, so he proposed they might as well go through the process of deciding what on earth to watch already, so they wouldn’t have to debate over dinner.

So they found themselves in the living room, sat next to each other on the couch with Jeff’s arm hooked around Kent’s shoulder. Kit padded in not long after, apparently satisfied with her dinner, and Kent watched her hop onto the back of the couch, walking over until she was curled behind Kent’s head. Jeff tensed for a moment as Kit laid a paw on his arm, but when she made no other moves, he relaxed again. Kent raised an eyebrow, then mentally shrugged it off. At least Kit wasn’t attacking him. It felt almost more like an ‘I’m still not sure I like you, but you fed me, so I’m giving you a chance, don’t fuck it up.’

_/ x \_

The third time, Swoops had actually warned Kent he was coming over and he’d bought groceries to cook Kent dinner. It was Saturday, and they had played an early-afternoon home game against the Aeros, so Kent really had no reason to protest since the game and following obligations— press time, mostly— had ended and he had been home vegging on his couch and going through his social media for an hour already. Besides, they had lost, and Kent certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea of a homemade meal and some feel-better cuddles after.

He had unlocked the door ahead of time, and shot Jeff a text to let him know he could let himself in. So he wasn’t surprised when he heard his front door opening and the rustling of plastic bags, and a familiar voice shouting “Yo, dude!” in greeting. Kent uncurled himself from the couch, and wandered into the entry hallway with a grin.

“Hey— Holy shit, what did you buy?” Jeff was laden with five or six grocery bags.

“Enough food to feed two hockey players who just burnt off a shit-ton of calories,” Swoops replied easily. “Fish sound good?” He looked sheepish for a moment, until he saw Kent was nodding.

“Fish sounds amazing,” he confirmed. “C’mon, I’ll help out.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Just remind me where stuff is and relax, Cap.”

Kent raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “If you’re sure— okay.” He led him to the kitchen, helped him in gathering what he asked for— pots and pans, cutting boards, measuring equipment, mostly— then sat one of the bar stools at the island and watched Swoops work.

After a while, Kit wandered in, and hopped up on the island. Kent was too busy focusing on watching Jeff move to protest like he normally would have, instead running his hands through Kit’s thick fur absently as she nuzzled his hand and purred.

When the fish was done cooking, Jeff gave the pair a look, then tore off a few small pieces from one of the filets. “Is it okay?” he asked Kent, glancing at Kit.

“Oh— sure, yeah. I do all the time. Go ahead, I’m sure if anything will make her appreciate you, it’ll be fish.” He laughed quietly, then watched as Jeff walked closer. He held a piece out in his hand toward Kit, looking somewhat nervous, like maybe he wasn’t sure if Kit would bite his hand off instead (as if Jeff’s hand wasn’t two times bigger than her head). She barely even hesitated before nibbling at the proffered piece of salmon. He offered her the couple other small chunks he’d brought over, and started petting her as she finished the last one.

“Well, she probably officially loves you now,” Kent assured with a laugh. “Congratulations, you bribed my cat into liking you.”

“Success!” Jeff cheered gleefully. “I think that means I am approved to date you, now.”

Kent would have choked, if he had been eating or drinking anything— thankfully, he wasn’t. “Excuse me?” he sputtered.

Jeff looked at him with eyebrows raised. “Uh… date you? Like, officially? If… you want to… We’ve been doing this for months… I just thought…”

“You’ve been making my cat like you so that you could date me?”

“Yes?” Jeff looked so meek, so nervous— smaller, somehow, like he was trying to make himself shrink into the floorboards— and Kent felt a pang of guilt overwhelm the panic. Jeff wanted to date him. After five months of fucking him and two years of playing on the same hockey team as him… Jeff had seen just how much of a pain in the ass and how much of a mess Kent really was and he still wanted to date him? He wanted to date him bad enough that he had decided the best way to do that— and he wasn’t wrong— was to make Kent’s cat like having him around first.

“I— uh— okay.” Because no one should let the tabloids fool them into thinking that Kent ‘the V stands for Victory’ Parson was smooth, clearly.

“Okay…” Jeff echoed, then smiled, and let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” Kent said back.

“Great.” Jeff smiled wider, then closed the distance between himself and Kent. He leaned in, and Kent, still sitting on the bar stool, tilted his face up so that their lips met. The kiss was soft, and felt different somehow than the kisses they had shared previously. Kent only pulled back when Jeff did, who said, “Dinner’s done, so, uh, we should probably eat that… Like, before it gets cold. Or before Kit does.”

“Right, yeah,” Kent agreed, laughing himself now.

He pushed himself from the bar stool and got out silverware as Jeff dished dinner out onto two plates, throwing a couple more scraps onto the floor for Kit, who weaved around his feet and mewled excitedly each time he did.

#parswoops #troyson #kent parson #jeff troy #swoops #omgcp #omgcp fic #check please fic #cp fic #omgficpls #what awkward dorks someone help them #i'll post this on ao3 later!!#anonymous #answer #wow i posted this on the wrong ask first lmaooo #so that other prompt will be answered without the ask oops #but i will get it up

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